#i am dirt and bugs and rain

[orange-sunshines]

i think i’m sad because i’ve been called inside from playing in the dirt

[great-art-and-a-purple-tongue]

Reasons to have a porch:

1) place for a rocking chair and to socialize with neighbors

2) avoid the shower of bugs

[poproccks]

John Dory Headcannons!

★ Glove is a compression glove for an old injury; a major burn scar that lines his fingers, palm, and paw pads on his left hand. (Inspired by @teaOwOstache’s comic – I am currently writing a one-shot for them based on their amazing comic.)

★ Has about an inch of white hair from the sheer power of Crimp’s vacuum. I, personally, believe that the vacuum’s power accelerated the talent-leaching tremendously and caused physical effects to show sooner. (Also shown on Bruce and Clay)

★ Various scars from his years of camping, foraging, cooking, hunting, and other things related to the nomad life.

★ He is the third tallest of his brothers, being almost the same height as Bruce. Second shortest of Brozone.

★ He was left-handed before the burn incident – and had to reteach himself how to write with his right hand instead since his left hand shakes too badly to write properly now. His handwriting, while improved, still isn't as good as it used to be.

★ Has nightmares occasionally like Branch. I like to imagine they bond slightly over that fact once they do get closer – obviously, it's still nothing like Branch’s and Floyd's relationship.

★ Building off the last point, JD tries not to feel too bitter about the close relationship they have. He realizes that the fractured relationships he has with all of his brothers are his own doing. He’s doing his best to get to know them all now and learn about their interests and hobbies. JD still walks on eggshells around them all about 60% of the time after a few more major blow ups between them. He is John Dory, however, so he still crosses lines many times by accident.

★ Thickest and fluffiest tail of Brozone (more of a general HC but, tail hair/fur can move like Troll head hair/fur.)

★ Very active, and regularly takes walks, runs, etc around Pop Village to keep up his fitness.

★ Found Rhonda when he was in his early 20’s and she was a much smaller bug bus. (Inspired by @ohposhers) She grew rather quickly after that and they became inseparable. John Dory handles all of her repairs and anything to do with her healthcare. He becomes very anxious when he has to pass that responsibility to anyone else. Branch took care of an ailing Rhonda once because he was the only one in the village with the needed materials and ingredients for the medicine. (“Who's crazy now? Me. Crazy prepared,) The dull-toned troll basically had to beat John off with a stick to get him to listen/let him help the poor bus, basically like a Helicopter parent. I genuinely believe without her, John Dory would absolutely crumble. Troll dust.

★ Stay’s in Branch’s bunker the most of the four others, besides Floyd who decided to move to Pop Village. When he’s feeling especially bad or wants to be alone, he will still retreat into Rhonda. She is basically an oversized security blanket.

★ Smells like either dust, fresh dirt, or rain. Definitely smells like something naturey. Branch smells like things similar, but it’s noticeably different.

★ Usually ALWAYS has something stuck in his hair or tail, no matter how small. Dust bunnies from exploring or helping clean, leaves, branches (ha), and other miscellaneous things.

★ Usually has the following in his hair pocket dimension; 2-3 bandaids, an extra glove, chapstick that he always loses, granola bars, and a small thing of water; just in case. Oh, and treats for Rhonda.

★ Carries an old family photo of his brothers and Grandma Rosiepuff from right after Branch hatched. His parents were also in it, but have long been torn out.

★ His goggles, past and present, were from his father (Also inspired by @teaOwOstache) and so he takes begrudgingly good and meticulous care of them.

★ Definitely a victim of parentification/older sibling syndrome. (I’m not projecting, you are.)

★ The order of brothers he bonds or reconnects with the easiest to hardest; Floyd, Bruce, Clay, Branch.

★ Suffers from aches and pains when it's cold or rainy out. He refuses to admit it is because of age.

★ Self soothes by pulling at his jacket, running his fingers along the zipper teeth, or adjusting his goggles when anxious.

★ If he doesn’t want to make eye contact or is crying or about to, he’ll pull his goggles on. It’s easier to hide than to explain. He gets better about talking about it but emotions are always a sore subject and difficult for him.

★ Like most Trolls, John Dory can hiss, growl, and purr.

★ Dark blue paw pads, with blunt nails with chipped polish.

★ When he went back to the troll tree pod, after mourning what could have been, he collected mementos of his brothers and his grandma; Branch’s old baby blanket, Floyd’s old plushie, Bruce’s old hoodie, One of Clay’s old books and a blacket Rosiepuff knitted long ago. They’re hidden in a box on Rhonda.

[dujour13]

Owlcatober 3. Shelter

---

When the Worldwound weather blew into Kenabres you wasted no time going to ground. Big, sticky droplets hit the cobbles and you hit the nearest shelter before it turned into bugs, eyeballs, or even intestines like that one time—best not thought about.

Woljif ducked through a broken window into the basement of an abandoned tenement and stood in the musty darkness peering out at rapidly forming puddles of viscous crimson. Fed up with this place. When he managed to scrape up the funds he was on a boat to Katapesh and never looking back.

“You found me!”

He nearly jumped out of his boots. “What the—”

He whirled. It was the crazy elf beggar, clapping her hands and laughing like some kinda mad fey.

“Oh. It’s you.” He peered suspiciously into the darkness over her shoulder. “Anybody else here?”

“Just Soot.” The crow hopped about on the floor, pecking at things.

He relaxed a modicum. Be no good getting caught in here with some of the characters he rubbed elbows with around Kenabres. She might be loony but she wasn’t dangerous, at least. He slumped against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, tail weaving, and sullenly watched the blood course between the cobbles.

But she wasn’t giving up.

“Now it’s your turn to hide!”

He glanced her way briefly and then back out at the rain. Those scars weren’t fit for looking at. “I ain’t a kid no more.”

“I know. But at least now your Gran can’t get you in trouble for playing with me.”

This evoked unpleasant memories of pinched ears. He sighed in annoyance, tail beginning to twitch. “I got more important things to do.”

“Grown-ups always say that. And then the important things they do just make them and everyone around them sad. I don’t understand.” She came closer and sat down cross-legged on the packed dirt floor with her rags and her filthy bare feet, and looked up at him with those uncanny liquid black eyes.

“I ain’t sad. Anyway the important stuff I gotta do is gonna make me rich. And when I’m rich, I’ll be happy.”

“Rich people aren’t happy. There’s a Count I see sometimes in the city square. He’s rich and handsome and he has lots of friends. He laughs loudly, but he’s the saddest of all.”

“Well, I can guarantee you when I’m rich I’ll be laughin’ for real, and you can bank on that.”

A thump from overhead made him start up and stare at the ceiling, from which a soft rain of dust sifted down. He cocked his head, trying to listen over the splashing of the blood rain.

“It’s just—” the beggar girl began.

“Sh. Is there people here?”

“Yes.”

“I thought this place was abandoned.”

“I see people come and go sometimes,” she shrugged. “At night.”

“At ni—what kinda people?”

“I don’t know. They wear hoods.”

“Cultists.” He turned his head and spat. “We gotta get outta here.”

“What’s wrong with cultists?”

“They’re dangerous, that’s what’s wrong.”

“Cultists, crusaders, they’re all the same,” she said.

Shit. She was right. No sense arguing with a nutcase. He reached out for her hand. “Come on.”

“But it’s still raining.” She got to her feet anyway, maybe just because it was nice to hold his hand for a moment.

He pulled it away. “I don’t care, we gotta hightail it. Now.”

“I’m not scared.”

“Neither am I! I just—I just think we ougtta find somewhere else nicer.”

“You can go if you want. I’ll stay here.”

Woljif sighed. “Aright listen. I’ll play hide-and-seek with you. But you gotta hide somewhere good. Not in here.” Indeed, the place was barren but for scattered broken glass and splintered boards. No hiding places.

“I’m gonna count to ten and you—”

“Twenty!”

“Aright, twenty. You get goin’.”

He kept counting, muffling his voice with a hand so she wouldn’t realize he followed her to the window and watched her run off down the alley splashing through puddles of blood and laughing, her stupid crow gliding after her.

When he was satisfied, he too crept out the window and headed down the alley in the opposite direction.

“Loony,” he muttered to himself, shaking his head. “Musta cooked her brains.” But he had to admit if he had to get caught in a bloodstorm it felt strangely… cozy to end up holed up with someone who wasn’t trying to rip him off or push him around. Someone familiar and harmless. Someone who knew what it was like. He glanced back over his shoulder, and then shrugged his jacket up around his horns and hurried off.

also on AO3

[puzzledcretin]

Mystic Mojo

(written for @tmnt-write-fight for @eyesoftheholder)

Fandom: Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Prompt: (Post ROTMNT movie) An exploration into Mikey’s mystic powers and the possibilities that come with it. Word Count: 2,376

Read On AO3

The sun was still high up in the sky, though it was angled toward the west. In an hour or two, it would be beyond the horizon and out of reach. For now, the golden glow cascaded among the blades of grass. 

It was warm here. Wherever here was. 

Among the tall blades of grass, some just as tall as the young turtle as he sat amongst them, were flowers. Sprinkled in clusters, wild flowers blotted the green all around him. An array of reds that faded into purples that faded into blues. Spread out as far as the eye could see. The flowers stood out, ranging from the smallest buds to the largest petals. None of them seemed to be particularly the same species, all unique, all different. 

Fox tail ferns disrupted the usual monotony around him, along with bushes and clusters of wheat. 

Despite the warmth radiating down on him, it smelled like rain. It smelled fresh, like life itself was bursting forth from the buried roots of the Earth. It flourished through the plants, dancing around in the wind. The wind itself sang a song, calling out to everything that was graced with its presence. Brushing against every surface as a reminder of  “I am here, I am here,”

So was he, wasn’t he? Here in this field. Away from everything that ever bothered him. 

He sucked a deep breath in, taking the wind into his heart. Nothing more than a brief detour, bringing life in just to breathe out a part of himself. It joins the wind, flying away into the sky and melding with the dust and leaves that tumbled along the breeze.

His gaze turns downwards, away from the unyielding rays of the sun. 

Stones and pebbles, clusters of dirt, maybe some bugs that were on their way home from a long day of.. Being bugs. But instead of your usual ground activity, there were glowing orange cracks in the Earth. They shined, almost as bright as the sun itself. And it wasn’t stagnant. It shimmered, it shifted. Much like the wind, it danced along to its own song.

His hands came down to touch it, but as he did, those glowing orange cracks suddenly burst up along his arms. They flared, angry and dangerous. The deep lines buried themselves deep into his flesh. Pain followed, sharp pains as his skin was ripped apart before his very eyes. Flakes broke off from the edges, burning up into ashes as they rose up into the air around him. 

The particles floated around him, they almost looked beautiful. Like thousands of fireflies, they circled his head. His eyes widened. With some effort, the turtle tried to pull his arms away from the ground. The urge to touch these small particles- pieces of himself- was just too much to ignore. But, his hands were gone. Merged into the same energy that burned the ground. 

The embers around him grew brighter and brighter, heat searing his skin. Then, before he could gather his bearings and figure out what was happening, the embers shot out in every direction. Their range was impressive, falling down into the blades of grass to hide from view.

Like sparks among dry brush, there was no way to stop the eruption of flames that occurred in that beautiful field. And the flames weren’t small, they towered up amongst the grass. It tore apart every blade, every petal, every leaf and threw them all up into the air to mix their ashes with the cascade of debris. Thick, dark gray clouds covered the sky. The warmth of the sun was blocked out, replacing everything with the cruel heat of the flames. Smoke filled his lungs in an instant, suffocated him with unrelenting plumes as the flames consumed the wildlife around him. 

“Wait- Wait, stop! Stop it!” 

His words echoed back to him, bouncing around his fiery chamber. They loomed over him, repeating over and over.

Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!

The cracks along his arms crawled higher and higher. He looked down, watching the trenches engulf more and more of his skin. It ate him, throwing up embers. The embers flew through the flames. He didn’t know where they were going. But beyond these walls, he wondered how much of the field survived. 

Tears streamed down his cheeks. Trails tracked along his face, innocent expressions of fear and remorse that stood contrast to the world around him. He choked on the smoke, his body bending forward as the golden glow attacked his shoulders. He coughed, trying to force it back out. 

Slowly, heat built up in his throat. A wretched burn worked its way up to his mouth, it settled on his tongue and ate away at the saliva that accumulated there. 

His lip trembled, the last barrier between him and whatever lies beneath. 

For the first time since he entered this hell, he wished he could go home. He craved the soft, pillowy feeling of being surrounded by his family. Lines ran deep into his body, searing him from the inside out. But he grit his teeth, clamps down.

Silently, he begged for forgiveness. 

The world wouldn’t know, and he believes they would never know, that this was his fault. He was going to burn up and disappear, destroying everything in his wake. 

And yet, and yet. All he could imagine was his brothers. His sister. His fathers. He hoped they were safe, far away from all of this. He could imagine them now, laughing in the lair. They were oblivious, they were having fun. He could imagine what they’d say. 

“I wonder where he is.”

“I wonder if he’s coming home soon.”“I wonder if he’ll bring home pizza.”

A grin cracked at his lips. The stretch of his lips split the flesh. Beneath it, the same orange glow that corrupted the rest of his body. He clamped down with his jaw, breathing through his nose as the cracks started to spread across his face. 

He couldn’t hold on, he wasn’t strong enough.

“I’m sorry..”

The cracks exploded across his body as he finally let go. Flames rushed along the dry grass in order to join their origin once again. He screamed as he gave in, his body pulling apart at the seams. 

Mikey woke up with a choked gasp. He coughed, rolling onto his side in his hammock in an attempt to clear his throat from the spit that attacked him. 

He pushed himself up. Trembles raked through his body, the aftershocks of the earthquake that rocked his very core. His hand moved up to lay against his plastron. With the hard plate between him and his heart, he couldn’t feel his heart racing with his hand. But he could hear the pounding in his ears. 

That dream felt too realistic, phantoms of all the burns prickled around his body. His eyes flickered down to his hands, expecting to see the eerie orange glow. But all he saw were the light colored scars that still haunted him. But that was it, he was safe. 

Mikey fell back into his hammock, looking up at the ceiling of his room. He tracked the bright colors that formed circles and spirals. He let out a slow breath, his lungs deflating in his body. 

He laid there for an hour. His mind was slowly reeling with the memories of a dream that were burned in. Usually, dreams would fade away. No shackles to hold you in a single place, no trap to keep you stuck in bed. But this was fresh and powerful. 

Eventually, Mikey pulled himself up to his feet. 

The young turtle had a lot he wanted to get done today, especially after Leo came back with some new canvases. They were unused, but not completely clean. Spatters and stains along the bright white fabric. It was imperfect, but Mikey could see the inspiration.

So, the teen was set about getting all his other tasks done. He buried himself in what he had to do. He had originally planned on making something small like cereal for breakfast, but it felt too fast. A full meal was in order then, pancakes and bacon and juice and toast and scrambled eggs. 

Then, he took his focus onto the dishes. Donnie had built a dishwasher, he could be using it, but instead he took to hand washing them. And well, it would be rude to just leave them drying on the counter, so he dried them too. Then, since the job was already two thirds of the way done, he put the dishes away too. 

Mikey was on his way back to his room when Raph pulled him aside and asked if he were interested in sparring at all. How could he say no to that? Clearly, he couldn’t. He focused on the fight intently, filling his head on which strike or duck he was going to do next. It was almost a blur, what happened. 

In fact, a lot of it was a blur. 

Yes, Mikey knew he did things. He knew he made breakfast, he knew he had washed and put away all the dishes, he knew he had sparred with Raph. 

And yet, if you had asked him any specifics, he would draw blanks. His mind was busy. 

So, despite his brother's calls to join him in the living room to play games, Mikey found himself walking to the small corridor where he kept most of his art supplies. It used to all be in his room, but when they were cleaning up the lair after the Kraang’s failed invasion, Mikey had moved a lot of it to what he called his studio. 

He had outgrown the space, he had claimed. He was a blossoming artist who needed to spread his wings. 

As he walked into his space, the familiar scent of disinfectant and paint filled his nostrils. The walls had been cleaned recently and his paints were all scattered about. His acrylics, his pastels, and his oils. Mikey moved to sit in the center of the room. He gathered up some nearby supplies and stared down at his blank canvas. 

With a deep breath, he got to work. Recently, he has been working with a lot of abstract concepts. Colors in broad strokes across a canvas, pushing expression into nothing and everything all at the same time. One of his last paintings was a real whirlwind of color. He chose greens, blues, reds, purples, and oranges. All sharp lines, all bouncing along the surface, but aimed down towards the cluster of pink and gray at the bottom. 

Mikey proudly hung that one up on the wall, he had named it To Rise Above. 

This painting, however, was proving to be rather difficult. Mikey let his heart guide his hands, reds and oranges and yellows force themselves onto the page. Sharp angles that erupt from soft curves, contradictions in forms. There was chaos erupting on this canvas, all surrounding a little black blob in the middle with two glowing orange eyes. 

Mikey paused as he took a step back to process what he saw. 

Just like his dream, he was surrounded by fire. 

His hearing tunneled, his eyes unfocused. He dropped his brush to the floor, the orange paint splattered lazily against the concrete. 

“I see,”

Mikey jerked himself back to reality, turning his gaze up behind him to catch Draxum standing behind him. The goat man had his hands tucked into the sleeves of his robe, eyebrows drawn tight together but his focus was on the canvas. 

“Tell me, Michelangelo, what does this depict.” Draxum asked, using his foot to lightly push Mikey’s paint palette out of the way before slowly sinking to sit criss cross beside him. 

“It..” Mikey’s expression tightened for a moment. His dream  had been a vision of terror, it felt too real to be just a dream. It almost felt like a calling, a promise of what was in store for him. 

A purple clawed hand came to rest on his shoulder, his thumb brushing against the tension that laid beneath the surface. 

“I had a dream last night.. That I did this..” Mikey spoke softly, letting the canvas drop to the ground. His head fell into his hands, smearing colors against his face. “I guess it’s just sticking with me… I remember how it felt and it.. That energy felt a lot like when I used my mystic mojo to open up that portal,”

He shook his head, laughing softly, “But that’s stupid, why would I feel like that? I can make portals, portals shouldn’t make fires like that,”

Draxum hummed in response, “No, they shouldn’t,” He responded, pulling his hands into his lap, “Meditate with me, Michelangelo,”

Mikey looked up at Draxum for a moment, watched as the elder closed his eyes and straightened his posture. The young turtle followed suit, folding his hands over his lap as he felt his eyes close. 

“You have very powerful abilities, Michelangelo. Very unpredictable abilities. I’m sure they scare you, do they not?” Draxum questioned. 

Mikey stayed silent for a long moment, before nodding stiffly, “It hurt.. A lot. Making that portal.” Mikey’s fingers brushed against one of the old scars, “I don’t want to hurt anyone else, not like that. But I don’t know how..” 

Silence grows between them. Mikey wonders if he’s said something wrong. Is there a chance he said something wrong? Surely so. He was a monster for even considering that he would have the ability to hurt someone. He was going to destroy the world-

“I know. Strong abilities are a blessing, but they can only become that with extensive training. With exercises that hone your energy into something productive, not destructive. You have nothing to fear, Michelangelo. You just need a helping hand.” Draxum responded, “I know, I had fears of my own once.”

Draxum’s hand fell back onto Mikey’s shoulder, lightly tugging the turtle to face him. Mikey opened his eyes to find his more recent father figure offering a reassuring smile that looked just.. So out of place. Mikey managed a smile of his own in response.

“You’re going to be extraordinary, Michelangelo. Just have confidence,”

[disciplesofthelamb]

"Greetings, fellow loyal cultists, as many of you already know, our great leader, The Lamb, has been very busy. But do not fret, I, Silas, have been left in charge as their loyal disciple-"

"Correction, WE were left in charge."

"Have some manners Briar, I am speaking."

"No, because you always do this! Why are you acting like you're better than us?!"

"AHEM, anyway... Like our dear friend Silas was saying, we were left in charge in the case of our leader being unavailable, so we will be happy to answer any queries you may have!"

"Thank you all for your attention, have a blessed day. Remember to praise The Lamb!"

Art I was gifted (Thank you!)

Silas and Dotty by @bididoodles: here.

Briar, Dotty and Silas by anonymous artist: here

WARNINGS

⸸ This blog may depict sensitive topics that may be triggering to some, and although I do try to put content warnings when needed, I often forget.

⸸ This blog is a work in progress, things are subject to change.

⸸ NO NSFW, suggestive asks are fine.

⸸ English is not my first language, please forgive any mistakes. 💔

⸸ Not all asks are answered.

⸸ Specify which character your ask is meant for, otherwise I will choose at random.

[About the characters under the cut!]

ABOUT THE CHARACTERS

[Silas, Briar and Dotty are my own cult of the lamb ocs! Here are a few things about them:

Briar is diligent and good at keeping things in order, but she struggles with properly communicating and sympathizing with others, so she can often come off as blunt and insensitive. Due to this, she has learned to mostly keep to herself. Despite that, having a strong sense of justice and not a lot of patience means that she often gets into arguments with other cultists (Something she is trying to work on.)

☾ Briar (She/Her) : A rescue from Anura, she was found by the lamb along with Dotty in the ruins of their old village. She became a disciple becase she complimented the lamb when they were having a bad day and just happened to be level X.

She enjoys working in the lumberyards.

Likes: Painting, Anything pumpkin-flavored, Rain, Napping, Woodcarving, Watching the sunrise, Stuffed animals, Jewelry, Carpentry, Dotty.

Misc info: Tries to avoid conflict (fails). Prefers to stay indoors. She just wants some peace and quiet frfr. I lied before, she probably would yell at you tbh. Has a terrible case of RBF. Perfectionist?? kinda. She doesn't actually hate Silas, she's just overly critical of everything he does because he's an asshole + she likes making fun of him.

Voice claim: Lady Redundant Woman/Beatrice from Wordgirl

Follower traits: Zealous, Ascetic, Hot Tempered

Pinterest board:

✭ Dotty (Any pronouns) : A rescue from Anura, she was found by the lamb along with Briar in the ruins of their old village. She became a disciple because she refused to work without Briar.

Dotty is cheerful and energetic, she can be a bit of a pushover since she doesn't like seeing others upset or holding grudges. She always tries to see the best in people, which can sometimes make her seem gullible as she has a hard time believing people may have ill intentions. Some may say that they have seen her sneaking around in the dead of night, but there's no way someone as sweet as her would have anything to hide!

She does a little bit of everything around the cult, but farming is where she's most comfortable.

Likes: Walks in the forest, Bugs, Berries, Arts and crafts, Foraging, Sewing, Strawberry jam, Diced apples, Stuffed animals, Briar, Puzzles.

Misc info: She has like a billion hobbies and she loves all of them. Very fidgety for seemingly no reason. Collects rocks. She will make you a friendship bracelet a day after meeting you. Addresses people by pet names when she can't remember their name. Prolly ate a lot of dirt and sand as a child. Veryyy clumsy. Dotty is just a nickname, her real name is Dorothy, but she never tells anyone that.

Voice claim: Raggedy Ann from Raggedy Ann & Andy: A Musical Adventure

Follower traits: Unrepentant, Strong Constitution

Pinterest board:

✦ Silas (He/him) : A rescue from Darkwood, he was found as he was about to be sacrificed in Leshy's name. After his rescue he swore to devote himself to the lamb for the rest of his days, yet he was the first to dissent when faith got too low. He became a disciple because the lamb "Thought he was cute."

Silas can often be unpleasant and uncooperative, and after his brother's passing he isolated himself completely, refusing to give anyone he wasn't particularly interested in the time of day.

Silas does not enjoy working. After becoming a disciple he completely gave up on doing most of the tasks around the cult. When he does decide to work, it's either cooking, praying, or refining materials. He was banned from working at the drinkhouse because he kept taking the drinks for himself.

Likes: Formal clothing, Journaling, "Research" (reading YA romance novels), Tea, Writing, Scented candles, Silver jewelry, Fountain pens, Red wine, Overpriced cigarettes.

Misc info: Manwhore, terrified of commitment. Chronically jealous. Calls himself a "hopeless romantic" but his standards are too high to actually date anyone. He'll tell you that he likes old literature but if you ask for recommendations he won't have any. Acts confident but is actually rlly insecure. Thinks that writing shitty love poems is peak romance. Knows how to play chess, but he sucks at it. Cares a lot about his appearance. Lazy, refuses to do manual labor (he might chip a nail :C). Had a younger brother named Mylo (which he asked the lamb to rescue not long after joining himself) they drifted apart soon after he became a disciple.

Voice claim: Ashton Fox from Fantastic Mr. Fox (placeholder)

Follower traits: Lustful, Materialistic, Poet

Pinterest board:

⸸ Playlists for all three can be found here

⸸ Additional info: Briar is a snowshoe hare, Silas is a striped hyena, and Dotty is a raccoon.

Silas is the oldest of the group, he joined the cult before the other two.

Silas is 6'1 (185 cm), Dotty is 5'4 (162 cm) and Briar is 5'2 (157 cm). I have no idea if those measurements are accurate idk how feet work.

Briar and Dotty are dating, they have been since before The Lamb indoctrinated them.]

"Briar speaks like this."

ROLEPLAY INFO

"Dotty speaks like this."

"Silas speaks like this."

Actions look like this.

[Moderator speaks like this.]

Others

@askacultleader (My other blog!) and @no-less-than-a-lambgod As our glorious leader

@ask-theredcrown As our Lord, The One Who Waits

@ask-thegreencrown and @he-ofhavoc As Leshy

@askthe-yellowcrown As Heket

@ask-thebluecrown As Kallamar

@ask-thepurplecrown As Shamura

@ask-thepurplecrownbearer As The Goat

Mortals/Miscellaneous entities

@askthe-littlepoet As... Who's this one again?

@the-sleepydragon As Imora

@tomb-the-god As Tomb

@keni-the-moth As Keni & Candy

@askdennycotl As Denny

@the-followers-of-them As other cultists!

@helob-the-spider As Helob

@terrorofthetarots As Clauneck

@ask-kudaai-the-weaponsmith As Kudaai

@ask-thefox As The Fox

[Hello everyoneeeee it's me Zip again, I made another blog :3

@follower-of-the-old-faith As Ratau

This is purely to indulge myself because these guys have been infecting my brain for a while now.

If I forgot to add you in my pinned post or if you would like to be removed please tell me!!]

[larissa-the-scribe]

Terrarium Lights

Part 1 of 3 for @inklings-challenge

An older lady befriends and adopts a ghost she found in her garden

Next part >>here

Michael Goffrey bid his wife farewell as he left for his next shipping job, and Gail Goffrey was once again faced with the fact that her house was cavernously empty.

She had expected the house to feel empty after her children grew up and moved on with their lives; that was the sort of thing one always heard about from the mothers and wives left behind. However, everyone seemed to stress the loneliness—not the rather more intense boredom.

Gail had always preferred quiet and alone time, so she did not take issue with the solitude. However, though she still had to cook and mend and clean and tidy and all the other tasks, it was one thing to do so for six people and quite another, shorter thing to do so for two. It was even less of a thing to do so for one, since Michael had been promoted to first mate and now had to accompany the airships personally, no longer simply loading and unloading at the cloudends as he once did.

Empty and meaningless. That’s what it felt like. With her family, she had people to help and care for. With just herself, she felt as though she were wasting time walking in circles for no other purpose than to exist.

She made it to the second day without any significant issue.

She was out tending to the herb garden when it happened—a bug wandered in front of her. That shouldn’t have been a problem. Bugs were some of her favorite creatures. But after the first smile, it hit her that she hadn't seen a new kind of one in months—this one already had three sketches in her notebook.

She’d run out of garden bugs to document.

Bugs, of all things. Bugs were everywhere, bugs had never-ending variations, bugs were constant. And she’d run out of them.

Stabbing the trowel into the earth perilously close to the offending bug, she sat back on her heels and looked up at the sky.

"Well, Lord, I reckon you put me on your good Earth for a reason. And I don't think it was just to sketch bugs." She smoothed her apron out, flicking bits of dirt off of it. "I also doubt I'm done with what I'm supposed to do down here, otherwise I wouldn't be here. But if you don't mind me saying, I'm awfully bored of where I am, though I do love my house and my husband and my town quite fierce. But I have all the time in the world, and I'd like to do good with it, if I could. So if you could show me what to do where I can—give me eyes to see as who I can do good towards—then I would appreciate it mightily."

Gail had prayed similar prayers before, with varying regularity. She knew the good Lord had heard her, as he always did. And if he answered with more solitude and time and boredom, then she supposed that was where she was meant to be for the moment. But she dearly hoped there might be something new this time.

So, really, she shouldn't have been surprised to see someone under the loquat tree. But then again, it had been raining since before dawn, so no one in their right mind would have been outdoors. She should know, since she herself had been out gathering moss for terrariums and hadn't heard a breath from anyone all day, even near the city.

Her first impression was that the lad was quite young. Younger than her youngest, in fact, who had not too long ago started her career as a professor at the nearby university. Looked perhaps like he could be one of her students. Very slight of build, as though he needed to eat more, and small looking as he sat hunched in the rain and letting the wet drip down his messy hair, full of loose ends that had gotten free from his ponytail.

Gail stood at the edge of her garden for a moment, resting her pail of moss against the stone border as she observed him.

He didn't move, just sat there with his face turned towards the soil, and didn't seem to see her. Part of his shoulder seemed stained, perhaps with mud. With the house not a few feet to the left, she wondered if he'd tried to knock and not gotten an answer, what with her out and about.

Well, unexpected or not, there was really only one thing to do.

Gripping her pail handle resolutely, Gail marched her way through the garden paths and stood in front of him. He shifted at the sound of her approach, turning his face up towards her—his eyes were pale, as if someone had sketched them on and not bothered with paint. What's more, up closer, the brownish stain on his shoulder looked rather like dried blood.

He tilted his head, as if trying to tell where the sound had come from.

"Well then," she said after a long moment of trying to figure out what to say, "who might you be?"

"Oh." He looked more directly at her, and somehow the eyes looked a bit more colored in, like they remembered they could be brown. "Dreadfully sorry, ma'am. I seem to have gotten lost in the rain. I hope you don't mind me taking a few moments here under your tree?"

He hadn't answered the question, but he seemed more surprised than shifty. "Not at all. Unpleasant weather to be lost in, for sure. If you'd like, you can wait it out under a roof."

"Oh," he said again, and looked to his left; this time it seemed like he understood what he was seeing. "I suppose that would be nicer."

"Well, you're welcome to my roof, if you’d like," she said. She wondered how long he would take her up on that.

He awkwardly stumbled to his feet before she could offer her hand. "That's very kind of you, ma'am."

"Would you like anything to eat?" She went ahead and led the way to the kitchen door.

He hummed thoughtfully. "Thank you ma’am, but I don't think I'm hungry."

She didn't think he would be, but, well, it wasn't like she had experience with this. Which concerned her—she had no idea what she was supposed to be doing. At least he didn't seem to be wicked. She supposed he must need a helping hand and, while she needed to figure out what that help was, he was still just a boy; she would do him the courtesy of treating him accordingly.

The porch and floors, old and creaky since long before she and her husband and infant son had moved in decades ago, greeted them with typical fanfare as they trudged over the threshold. She dripped her way over to the stove, where she put the kettle on; it was unlikely that her visitor would want any, but she most certainly did. Setting her pail of moss by the stove to deal with later, she glanced back to see the lad standing in the middle of the space, staring up at the roof.

Gail wondered if he noticed that he wasn't wet.

"Say," she said, carefully pulling teacups out of the cupboard, "what did you say your name was?"

He looked at her sharply. "I… I don't think I did."

"Hmmmm. Well, how should I call you, then?"

He stared at her.

In the background, the rain continued on.

"Should I just call you ma'am, then?" He said, smiling faintly.

Gail squinted at him. "Now then, young man, are you dodging the question deliberately, or do you just not have an answer?"

"Oh." He glanced around the kitchen, then back to her, and blanked. "Sorry, what was the question?"

Gail rested back against the counter. She picked up her glasses from where she'd left them this morning, and stuck them on, pushing the temples through her sodden mess of hair. "I was just asking what your name was."

His eyes widened. "I… don't… Didn't I answer that?"

"Not as I can recall."

"That… that was rude of me, then, wasn't it?" His eyes were still wide, and the brown was fading.

Maybe it was rude of her to keep pressing the matter. He seemed not to know. Gail pressed her glasses firmer on her nose, trying to reach some kind of decision—but whatever was going on with her guest had been set in motion.

"What is my name?" He asked, his voice rising. "I can't remember my name."

"That's alright, dear," she said, trying to distract him, calm him down. "Do you remember where you were before my garden?"

It had the opposite effect.

He stepped back, towards the door, and glanced around with eyes that no longer understood where he was. "No… I-I can't remember… where am I? Do you know my name?"

"I'm afraid I—"

The kettle shrieked into the space between them with a rush of steam.

The lad cast a wild glance in its direction, stepped backwards. Gail, startled into motion, scrambled to shut the thing off.

When she turned back, the space where he had stood was dry and empty. She and the rain and her pail of terrarium moss had been left alone again.

Next

[b-blushes]

hello i am here with slug facts! so!

slugs are super cool i love them a lot! most species live for a few months to a year, they hibernate during the winter. like a lot of bugs that survive winter, they rely on leaf litter to keep warm! the decaying of the leaves keeps them warm enough to not freeze.

their daily life mostly consists of trying to find food and sleeping. slugs have absolutely atrocious eyesight, they can basically only see light and dark and some general shapes, so they find food based on smell. they smell with their bottom two antenna things! (i forget the scientific name but like. the average person doesnt know it anyway so.) most slugs are primarily herbivores and eat various fruits, vegetables, decaying plant matter, and fungi and mold. but, like snails, there are a few species that eat other slugs! and pretty much all slugs will eat dead slugs and nibble on other dead animals sometimes.

slugs and snails both need a lot of calcium, snails need more than slugs because they need to maintain their shells, but slugs also need some because they have internal shells!! it shields their organs from damage if they are attacked. their main sources of calcium are rocks, bones, and eggshells. they eat with this thing called a radula, which is basically like a tongue covered in tiny teeth! it lets them scrape bits off their food so they can eat it.

slugs are mainly preyed upon by birds, and things like lizards and frogs. they cant outrun predators, and they dont have protective shells to hide in like snails do, so they use other tactics to get predators to leave them alone. slugs have really strong "feet" (the muscle they use to crawl along the ground), and can grip whatever theyre on top of really well, which makes it hard for predators to pull them off and into their mouths. they also can ooze a special slime when startled, that is more liquidy and tastes extra gross so predators leave them alone. a lot of slugs are various levels of toxic as well.

slugs need to stay damp all the time, theyre mostly water and can easily dry out and die. they usually live under rocks or logs or leaf litter because of this, and tend to stay in dark or shaded places out of the sun. they dont have a regular sleep schedule like people do, but because they cant be in the sun they do tend to come out more at night or when its raining. slugs just sort of sleep whenever, and it varies from slug to slug. they basically just sleep whenever theyre not eating or looking for something to eat, and when theyre somewhere safe like under a rock or log. they sleep usually in periods of a few hours at a time.

slugs arent exactly social animals, but because they lay eggs in clusters that range from a dozen to a few hundred and because they cant travel far due to being so slow, they often live in groups. theres also anecdotal evidence that being in groups affects their behavior, ie slugs realizing its time to hatch from feeling other slugs crawling over them.

slugs have both sets of genitals, and any two slugs of the same species can mate. they have really intricate mating rituals its very interesting to watch. if you look at a slug closely you can see a little hole open up near their head, that hole does basically everything. it's how they breathe, and inside there are their sex organs, those come out when mating. they also poop from there and lay eggs from there. their eggs are jelly-like, similar to amphibian eggs, and they lay them either buried slightly in the dirt, or under logs or rocks. they lay a few clutches of eggs in their life, usually one in spring and one in summer.

i hope you enjoyed my ramblings about slugs, and i hope this answered any questions you had!! if you have any follow-up questions let me know, i can probably answer them!

YES thank you chaos this is so interesting!!!! I've always known slugs as little friendly guys from my garden and been curious about them but have never for example kept any as pets so never really was able to figure out what their days look like! I'm also familiar with slug eggs from discovering them in the garden too!

i was just looking at anatomy diagrams and it's so wild to picture them with hearts and organs 'similar' to us! (not like, similar similar but you know, like they're so small and the variety of 'insides' that various bugs and invertebrates and molluscs have! like of course it's not all just goop in there!) Truly so magical how many creatures are living all around us with daily lives so similar and so different to ours! Thank you again for sharing slug facts with me :') OH AND ALSO the context in which i was asking, Slug Mode Saturday, had three main tenets which were go slowly, focus on nourishment, and cosy (although it was mostly vibes more than strict rules :P) and i feel like they are similar! so slug mode saturday returns!!!

[bittybat28]

Ghoul HEAD CANNONS

(SOME NSFW stuff 18+)

(Warnings: some sex stuff, mentions of blood)

(I am surprised that people seemed to like my last one so here’s another because I have so many floating around in my brain!)

SWISS: Swiss is like that older brother who likes to trick others into believing things he’s made up. Like one time when Phantom was newly summoned he asked why they used to call Copia, Cardinal and Swiss told him Copia was actually a bird and would fly away during winter. It ended with Copia being very confused and consoling a devastated ghoul. Swiss got in trouble later on but he still thought it was hilarious! His favorite movie is Footloose and he knows all the moves! He can become overwhelmingly hyper to the point it’s hard to control himself and if he’s like this during sex, well you won’t be walking the next day, that’s for sure! He’s very affectionate and playful but there are times when he just wants to be completely alone. Swiss is always dancing. It doesn’t matter where he is or what he’s doing, those hips are moving!

SODO: Sodo is often times grumpy but like Swiss, he can get overly hyper in a pretty rough way! He especially gets like this during heat and he gets feral! He likes to perch on the couch like a gremlin especially when he’s interested in a movie they’re watching, especially if it’s one of his favorites like nightmare on elm street! He’s been afraid of thunderstorms ever since his transition from water to fire but his ego keeps him from telling the others so he spends nights like that in his closet curled up. His stuffed animal collection is very important to him and they all have to be positioned just right on his shelf. He’s been caught eating cigarette’s before by Copia and the two just stared at each other until Copia just backed away. He loves the smell and taste of blood so he’s got a definite blood kink in bed and will often times be rough enough to cause some bruising and bleeding!

Rain: Rain is pretty reserved compared to the others but that doesn’t mean he can’t be wild. If you let him outside while it’s raining, he runs and jumps like he hasn’t seen the outside world in years. He listens to ocean sounds at night and sometimes sleeps in the bathtub when he can’t get comfortable in bed. Aqua Marine is his comfort movie, I don’t make the rules! He loves doing puzzles and it makes him even happier when the others join him. He goes feral if his horns are kissed and if you play with his tail, he’s taking you right then and there! He suffers from migraines, especially after a long practice and he will submerge himself in the bath for hours. He may be a quieter ghoul but when he makes jokes, he has the other ghouls (even Sodo!) rolling with laughter!

Mountain: Mountain is like that one person who doesn’t say much but when they do, its the wisest shit you’ve ever heard. He gets achy because of how tall he is, always scrunched or bending down so if you want to show this ghoul some love, massages are the key! Forget-me nots are his favorite flowers, loving how tiny they are in his hands. He loves the Dark Crystal movie and will watch it over and over again. If you ask him what he wants to watch he’ll say it’s whatever you want but he’s too polite to say he wants the Dark Crystal. Choose it for him, he will be so happy! An angry Mountain is a very scary Mountain. Everyone quickly learned not to mess with him when he was having a bad day and Sodo ended up hurdling across the room like a discarded toy after scorching one of his plants during a spat with Mountain over dirt getting all over Sodo’s side of the couch. He is a cuddle bug and one way to rile him up is to straddle his lap and if he’s shirtless, trail kisses from his tummy, upward. He loves the feeling of your lips on his body!

PHANTOM: goth boy! Phantom loves old vampire movies, often stealing them from Copia. It seems like the majority of us agree that he loves bats and he has a big collection of books about them. His favorite is the black mastiff bat because they’re funny looking! He also loves being in the cemetery, a place he was often found hiding in after being newly summoned. He struggled and still sometimes struggles with his appearance due to his scars but words of affirmation and kissing his scars perks this guy right up! He loves being read to, especially when it’s Edgar Allen Poe stories. Phantom is very touchy. He wants to kiss and touch you all over every chance he gets. Tug on his shirt collar or pull him close by his belt loops and this ghoul is yours all night!

[thalwhore]

Homesick

Once again writing for skyrim followers lmao, been rotating this idea in my mind since I picked Gore up in Rashiids save. Inspired by the fact that Gore is around his brother, Ja'Rojaros age!

The lad belongs to @goredev and you should absolutely go download him👀

"Blood, if somethings bothering you, you know you can tell me, right?"

The constant tossing and turning of the Pahmar was growing irritating, constantly in Gore's sightlines and paired with the rustling of the fabric.

Rashiid sighs, sitting up in his bedroll. "Just restless is all, this one is sorry if he has disturbed you."

"Hey, I'm supposed to be on watch anyway, you're hardly disturbing much- well, maybe the bugs nearby."

The khajiit huffs a laugh at the comment, shifting over to make room in the (admittedly quite small for him) bedroll as Gore takes a seat beside him.

"So, what is it? I'd like to think I know your usual restlessness well enough, and this? Its nothing like that, blood."

"I am that transparent? It is a good thing this one has no interest in subterfuge, or in card games, for that matter."

There's a silence between them as Rashiid mulls over his thoughts, the campfire crackling nearby as his tail gently thumps on the dirt.

"It is...rather embarrassing, this one must admit. I...I miss my brother."

"That's nothin to be embarrassed about, he's your blood. And from the way you've talked to me about him, you two sound close." Gore responds, leaning on the Khajiits large shoulder, basking in the warmth. "I think you might be homesick too, from the looks of things. You look at the caravans leaving like a kicked puppy- or, kitten, I guess?"

"It is family this one misses more than anything." He laments. "The caravans are their own families, and this one misses his- Mother, Father, brother, sister. Even our distant relatives who came to visit." Rashiid recalls. "Our home was always full of life and noise, a crying kitten, a drunk aunt, the purring of my siblings in their sleep. Now...the wilds of Skyrim do not have the same feeling to them."

Gore turns to look at him, having to raise his head just to lock eyes. "We can start staying at inns if you'd like? We make plenty on the road, 10 gold a night is hardly much for some comfort and peace of mind."

"No- I would not deprive you of the wilds, this one does not mind, truly-"

"Nonsense! Besides, I'd be lying if I said I enjoyed getting rained on most nights- or waking up to a spider in my lap, or a snail leaking goop into our packs, or-"

"Alright, alright. Your point has been made."

Gore can't help but chuckle at him. "Is that really what's been bothering you? That it's too quiet outside?"

"It is part of it, yes."

"What's the other part?"

Rashiid balls the bedroll in his fists, the mood suddenly a lot less light.

"This one misses sleeping beside his brother. Rojaro was never very brave, so he would always sneak away from his bed during the night and join me- it chased the nightmares away, he said." The Khajiit sighs at the memory. "Eventually we just shared the bed all the time. He was like a very long stuffed animal, and Rashiid...it just feels wrong, to not have him here. It feels as if with my arms free, I am no longer able to protect him."

Gore looks down in thought, brows furrowing.

"It is stupid, this one knows. Like I said, y-"

"I could start sleeping with you."

Rashiid looks bewildered, taken aback by the statement.

"Not like that- you dirty cat!" Gore jokes, playfully slapping his arm. "I mean like you and your brother did. Its hardly new for grown men to sleep together for warmth, and I...I trust you, blood. I know it's not really been that long, but I know you'd never do anythin bad to me in a position like that."

"You...you are really offering such a thing?"

"Why not? If it helps you sleep at night, I'm all for it. And we're going to start sleeping at inns anyway, so it's not like I'll need to stand guard anymore."

"I...this one would like that, if you are sure about it?"

"I'm positive. Besides, who would pass up a free, fur blanket that hugs back?"

"Do not push it."

[imsogayyippee]

playlist anon back again here's the highlights

Butch 4 Butch - Rio Romeo

I Love You Like An Alcoholic - The Taxpayers

Laplace's Angel (Hurt People? Hurt People!) - Will Wood (you ever see those videos of cosplays where one person is sitting on a chair and the other person is walking around them kinda pushing them around while this plays? Yeah that.)

Baby Hotline - Jack Stauber

Trees II - McCafferty (this is just vibe but I think it makes sense)

Choke - I DON'T KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME (my friend says this is THE timlex song)

505 - Arctic Monkeys ("I'd probably still adore you with your hands around my neck" / "or I did last time I checked")

Milk Carton - Mercy Necromancy

GAHHH sorry im gonna yap about butch 4 butch n more gay shit i hope youdont mind.

this song is SO FUCKING ENTRY 54 TO ME. AUGHGUHDUSHGS.

"My sweetheart's piano is rat filled/And mine is infested with bugs/The music we make is unnatural/But it sounds just like falling in love"

DO YOU GET ME. CAN ANYONE HEAR ME.

"Tomorrow we'll dig through the garbage/And we'll fish out all kinds of neat trash/And when we go back to my apartment/She'll probably kick my fucking ass"

"I sing her songs in my garage/And make her fall in love with me/And once we're done/The sun is gone/We both just sit so nervously/I talk real slow/And speak real low/Hoping she'll lean into me/But we just laugh cause/What was that/We can't take ourselves seriously"

"She makes me go weak in the knees/But I can't let her see me swoon/Or else she will think I am sweet"

IM SICK IM SICK AOAIUAHGU THEY MAKE ME SO SICK.

--

anyways. i love you like an alcoholic

"Cast that first glance: your smile, my veins"

entry 84. it was love at first sight btw. yeah im right it's canon.

"Kissed that first night/And then the rain opened up the sky to get"

RAIN??? LIKE ENTRY 54? 😦😦😦😦

"I need you like I need a broken leg"

adding this cause it's funny

"Some handsome dark stranger/You were standing there on the corner/You had those compelling magnetized/Eyes you must have lost when you got older"

um. what role did alex immediately give tim when they met. yeah

"Seven blocks in, my fingers brushed your hand/I blushed and you laughed/But you seemed a little sad/I ain't one to jump a ship/But I absolutely knew/I was six steps in when I fell into you"

I HATE THEM I HATE THEM I HATE THEM!!!!! /nsrs

--

anyways i listened to laplace's angel (i didn't remember which song it was even if i had heard it bfore. btw no i havent seen those videos sorry 😭😭) and um. kills them with my mind

"Could you take a look at me?/Am I bad, am I bad, am I bad, am I really that bad?/And now we're singing, ooh, whatever you think of me/If you were in my shoes, you'd walk the same damn miles I do"

PARALELLS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

"It doesn't take a killer to murder/It only takes a reason to kill"

AUGHGHSH THEY MAKE ME SICK. ALEX FUCKING KRALIE.

"The only ones in need of love are those who don't receive enough/So evil ones should get a little more"

I THINK I HAUVE COVID.

"If you were in my shoes, you’d see I wear the same size as you"

FALLS HITS MY HEAD AND DIES.

--

sorry i would talk about baby hotline but the kind of lyrics it has are kinda hard to "analyze" like im doing with other songs 😭

--

"Cute guy, nice face/Wrong time, wrong place/I knew in a matter of a minute/His face was smashed/His skin was burnt/His shirt was torn in the dirt"

oh. ok then,dies

"I need you more than you need me/You're beautiful and smart and kind/While I am ugly, full of lies" "And I can't be with you anymore/I can't live like this anymore/I can't hold your heart anymore/I need you to go on without me"

.🙁🙁

--

read the lyrics of choke um. yeah i see it. all i have to say is toxic old men yaoi except theyre not old

--

"I'd probably still adore you with your hands around my neck/Or I did last time I checked" "But I crumble completely when you cry/It seems like once again you've had to greet me with goodbye"

.🙁

--

"When you put a knife to my neck/My stomach doesn't fill with dread/It's fill with butterflies instead/And when you threaten to do things to me/I don't scream"

ANON WHEN I GET YOU. /VPOS

anyways. that's it i hope yuo liked me talkig about gay peopel like and subscribe for more!!!!!!

[casual-tarot]

Pick a Pile: What You Need to Hear Right Now

Pile 1

So immediately I'm hearing, "You don't need to do this all on your own." You refuse to accept help when need it, and refuse to acknowledge the people around willing to lend a hand! Things are overwhelming for you, I know, but sometimes even talking about it can lift some if the burden. You're stressed, you're overwhelmed, but I promise that letting someone else help you carry those crushing burdens will do wonders for you. There is always someone willing to help, even if you don't think you see them. They are there, I promise. Ask for help, it will help bring things back into balance.

Signs, Symbols, and Phrases; Tornados, storms, dirt and cobblestone paths in nature, clocks, compasses, 10, 40, 9, 6, 666, Mercury, Jupiter, The Sun, waning gibbous moon, big poofy clouds, rivers and bodies of water, Gemini, Aquarius, Leo, Libra, Air Signs in general, wolves, fireflies, crows, crocodiles, message in a bottle

Extra advice: You see your emotions as a burden to others, but it's not, you're "holding yourself together" but you dont need to be. If you have to cry, then let yourself cry. Stop shootings yourself in the foot and let yourself do that creative project you've been holding off, don't dampen your creativity and imagination just because the world thinks you should. Talk to someone you, new or not, you might make a new friend or you'll have a good time with a loved one.

Pile 2

You are bright, worthy, and creative person, but I think there is something throwing you off, something that you may be guilting yourself about. Or maybe you're frustrated at someone else. It may have to do with your job or a creative pursuit. Either way, a certain person or mindset is holding you back and preventing you from getting that done. If you had a disagreement with someone recently, or felt that they were putting their input where it didn't belong, talk to them! Tell them what is bugging you and confront them. It doesn't need to be another argument, although sometimes those are inevitable, it could also just be a discussion. You both sit down and have a talk about it. Why was it so frustrating to you? Why did they feel the need to give you their input in the first place? Listen to both sides of the story and you may come out with a stronger relationship because of it. If this is an internal struggle, know that any insecurities you have about your performance are false. Like I said before, you're creative and passionate, if you really want to, you can accomplish anything! Sometimes asking for help from others is just what the doctor ordered. Or you may need to stop focusing on the what if's and just go for it! Don't let your fears stop you from accomplishing greatness, because that's what you are. Great. Don't beat yourself up over your insecurities, let them exist and prove them wrong! It will lead to great things! Don't throw a pity party for yourself either, being down about ideas of failure that hasn't even happened yet will get you nowhere(harsh as it may sound)! Remember; You can do this! You can accomplish great things!

Signs, Symbols, and Phrases; Fairies, magic, evening skies, strong women, the full moon, night skies, stars, large or antique clocks, "ghostlands," sheep, the color blue, messages from past loved ones, soft flowing clouds, acres, farmland, single trees on their own, big random patches of grass, 2, 17, 29, 51, 12, 1212, 21, 7, waxing gibbous moon, Rain(especially at night), Neptune, Mercury, North Node of the Moon, Fire, pentacles, pentagram's, Ares the God of War and Courage, Aries, Cancer, Capricorn, Owls, Bats, Nocturnal Animals, Turkey Vultures, Vultures in general, Lone Wolves, Whales, Blue Whales, Mountain Goat's, Fireflies, Skunks

Extra Advice: Stop boxing your productivity and/or creativity in! Just let it out! Let it do its thing! You're good at what you do I promise! Some of you may be experiencing a broken heart of some sort, maybe a loss, I am so sorry and I feel like those loved ones lost ask me to tell you to look for them in the sky. In the stars and the clouds, the moon and the sun, the planets and everything else in between. They are there, they are watching over you, and they love you, so so much. Some of you are not putting in as much work into other facets of your life that need focus too, go check on those and do what needs to get done! Ask some friends for help, there are some always willing to help you get something done. Some of you need to be weary of some people in your life, they may aim to harm or sabotage you in some way. Take that last message with a grain of salt, it is not for everyone. If you do take that message, look out for ringing in one of your ears, as it may be a sign. Stop putting your energy where it doesn't belong, and by that I mean Stop overworking yourself and/or procrastinating! Do what needs to get done and take a break when you need it, you will thank yourself later. Break away some bad habits, stop eating so much junk food, get your sleeping schedule back in order, take time to check and plan for your calendar, check on friends and loved ones, and send that damn email! Another fairy popped out for me, so keep an eye out for images and mentions of them, they may be very important for you.

Pile 3

This wasn’t in your cards, but my cat just came to cuddle with me, so immediately I'm hearing, "cuddle with your cat!" Or spend time with any pets or animals you have. I have a feeling you might be stressed and could use the company and comfort. Now, on to the rest of your reading!

You may be defensive and/or closed off. You might also think all of this is bullshit and needed someone to acknowledge that thought in order to gain confirmation. That message is only for some of you. Anyways, you may also be in denial of something, likely your own emotions. You feel that if you let your guard down, you will get hurt. You think that pretending to be emotionless like this means that things can't and won't hurt you. But in doing so, you are only hurting yourself. You miss out on all the opportunities of making new friends, spending times with loved ones, and enjoying outings with other people. The hard truth is this, things will always hurt you. You cannot stop the world from being the world, you can't stop humans from being humans, and you can't stop yourself from experiencing inevitable things like death and reality and so much more. And that's ok. Life is meant to be lived, and you can't live life without getting a couple scratches and bruises along the way. Let yourself experience life! Let yourself open up a little more and live. You will be so thankful, so happy, that you decided to let yourself out of your shell, even just a little bit. One step at a time, not everything needs to happen at once, not everything needs to be rushed. Go at your own pace, but just remember to go. I also get the feeling that you are used to carrying other people's burdens. You take on their problems as your own, you wear their emotions like a cloak. I get the feeling that, despite being so harsh and/or closed off, you are a very empathetic person. My back started straining when I realized that and I think that empathy puts a lot of strain and pressure on you in many ways. In some ways, you strain yourself by taking on everyone else's problems. In other ways, it's simply because you feel so strongly. I'm going to suggest something I heard another tarot reader once say, swap your empathy with compassion. Empathy is taking on the emotions of others and feeling them as if they were your own. Compassion is understanding others emotions and being there for people, but not at your own expense, you don't take on their emotions, you simple see them. I think you may think of your empathy as a weakness in some ways, but it's not. Being empathetic is so important to you and to the world. Let yourself feel. The world needs more hearts like yours, hearts that care. Just don't let it burden you, don't take on too much. Set emotional boundaries. You don't need to be there for everyone and that's ok. And if the people around you can't understand that, then you need to spend a little less time with them as a whole. Now I'm not saying you need to cut people out(some of you might I'm sure, take what resonates), but you may need to distance yourself from people who are draining to much of you. Some of these people need room to grow and they can't do that with you coddling them. I don't mean to sound harsh, but taking on their emotions, being their major or only support system, not letting them stand up on their own, it only does more damage. These people may need help at times, sure, but they are also not your responsibility. They need to grow on their own and figure out how to heal themselves as well. Help them if you must, but remember to step away when it's important. Things need to change. Now I feel like our last message here is saying simply this; do these things and your life, your relationships, will thrive. You will have so many more and better opportunities and relationships. You contemplate too much in your mind and don't act, don't live. Go, live life. You will have such a great one. I promise.

(Ps. It stopped raining at my house after I wrote all this, I feel this is signs for a brighter, clearer future for you. Good luck!)

Signs, Symbols, and Phrases; Angels, fairies, blue fairies, the color blue, daydreams, the words "sad" and "embrace," giraffes, couples, "rescue," flamingos, animals that mate for life, unity, birds, butterflies, hearts, crowns, balloons, nature, hot air balloons, stars,clouds, the night sky, a bright full moon, waterfalls, pyramids, the world, towers, big, wide, and/or tall trees, telescope, explorers, floating islands, mushrooms, pretty leaves, art, abandoned homes and places, sneaking in, redheads, little kids, bows, white, small Bunnies, orange leaves, nature taking back, doors, double doors, grand doors, golden doors, doors with intricate designs on them, pillars, sadness, helping others, vertigo, mazes, flying, wings, carousel, porcelain horses, toy horses, 8, 16, 25, 41, 45, 3, 33, 333, 7, 2, 5, growing plants, sprouts, Jupiter, Neptune, North Node of the Moon, Waning Crescent Moon, Virgo, Cancer, Gemini, Pegasus, horses, Bats, Fireflies, Mountain Goat's, Otters

(Lots of symbols for you Pile 3!)

Extra Advice:

Potential love may be in your future. A good unity you will trust. New relationships in general. For some of you, this will not be forever, but that's ok. These relationships will come and go and teach you things along the way. Do not mourn them. For others, these will be strong relationships and could have a big impact on your life and even be forever. You may find your future partner, a best friend, or a new job via new coworkers or new boss! Your heart us healing, it was broken in the past, for any number of reasons, but it's finally healing. That dark shadow you felt in your chest if finally dissipating. You are encouraged to put your energy into new ideas! New creative processes, hobbies, relationships, or even your job. Feeling sad again is inevitable, and when you feel it creeping back up, I suggest writing a little note or a letter to yourself, talking about everything under the sun and especially about how you feel and your problems, and doing one of two things with it; either put it in a bottle or time capsule of some sort and open it later on(could be hours, days, weeks, or years, it's your choice) OR write everything down, and then destroy it. You could tear it apart(angrily if it helps), burn it, soak it in water, anything really. Just get it out there and then destroy it. I also think you should check up on a few friends(remember, set boundaries emotionally) or tell people you trust about how you're feeling. Rant to them, I feel you feel guilty talking to others about your problems, but your loved ones will lend an ear, I promise. Do not make things work that can't or won't work, let them go and focus your attention on something else. Don't let go of your creative ideas, leave them be and let them grow! Do not mourn the loss of friends who never cared about you, let them leave and feel yourself heal because of it. I mean that in a more, metaphorical sense, of course you can mourn the loss of a friendship/relationship, but know it was for the best and that you will only grow because of it. Nowhere to go but up!

[notknickers]

tma fears and könig

(i have incorporated my headcanons and my interpretations of könig with this: it's not like we are given much canon material to work with, anyway. just warning about it, because if you see me belabour a point with iron confidence, but cannot place where that came from, the answer is simply "from my head".)

@eyerotyourbrain : the intersection between different types of brainrots that affect the tma girlies (gender neutral) and the cod girlies (also gender neutral) with specific regards to jared hopworth and könig may remain a mystery, but the intersection between könig and the fears isn't anymore. not to me, no sir, it never was!

it has been revealed by yours truly under the cut, if you're still interested.

(i sincerly hope you are, because this thing took me three days!!! 😂)

first, however, mandatory self-identification: i am wholly of the stranger, with just a bit of flesh. it would be nice to know who i am dealing with, in turn.

(please, don't be yet another eyevatar 😭)

the buried: könig is no stranger to poverty and crushing debt, or at least, his younger self was acutely aware of this. squalor, negation and absence were young könig's everyday reality for years. the way it has left a mark is how, once he managed to dig himself out of penury, the toll those years took on him still manifests in his preoccupation with keeping afloat, insisting on living way below his means even though he doesn't need to anymore.

the way this fear manifests in könig is twofold: on the one hand, as stressed by his choice for a job, he will do anything for that paychecque, to keep the money flowing; on the other, the spartan lifestyle free of self-indulgence and frivolity, contrasted by a tendency towards hoarding what few possessions he has, until, one day, perhaps his tower of junk will collapse and bury him whole.

if he were an avatar of the buried, his distinctive feature would be the dirt under his chipped, bloody nails that coats his fingers no matter how many times he washed his hands and a sense of unease and preoccupation he exudes, which turns to crushing despair everytime he stands too close to anyone.

the corruption: still due to the aforementioned poverty, filth was another thing that characterised könig's childhood: rotting food, crawlers and vermin attracted by it, dirty clothes, infrequent grooming and those fleeting moments of joy and distraction, playing with worms in the mud, picking snails after the rain or poking nests with a stick...

not an entirely negative thing, as living communally in barracks with many others, breathing the same air, sharing the same space and learning to be self-sufficient and resourceful while making do with what the military allowed is not for the weak of stomach.

the effects are still visible today, in the man könig has become: the loathing towards filth still manifests in a usually impeccable presentation of his person and his military quarters at the base, an exemplar of order, tidiness and cleanliness.

only for könig to fall into utter disrepair the moment in between deployments, when he is in his small, claustrophobic flat, full of hoarded possessions untidily piled in every corner, with countless roaches and other bugs raising generations of egg spawns, a mould-infested shower he rarely uses, as he barely keeps himself clean, and also infesting other fixtures in both loo and kitchen, such as sink and fridge. the squalor from which he fought so hard to escape always claims könig, drags him back in its unsanitary clutches the moment no one is looking.

however, the real mark the corruption left is könig's tendency towards obsession. if the somewhat unhealthy relationship he has with his job were not enough to show this, paying attention to the way he conducts his interpersonal relationships will.

even here, the ways he behaves are very disconnected, going from keeping to himself for fear of ceding to his instincts, to obsessing over a friendship or romantic relationship to the point of stalking - breaking and entering without a sign (unless he wants to leave one) is a joke for someone of his skills.

he is deathly afraid of abandonment, a thing that might come across as surprising, considering how independent and self-reliant könig is. but once he finds the unconditional care and the gentle love he craves, even the threat of that being taken from him affects him deeply and has him behaving irrationally. not overtly violently, as he worships his lovers with all of himself as the loyal puppy he is, but he will beg and cry not to be abandoned, clinging to that person both bodily and metaphorically for all his emotional needs. if that fails, that's when he will start imposing his presence where he is not wanted, until he finds a way to let go and disappear for another long bout of being on his own, lest his worst, most needy traits come out again.

love of any kind has been so scarce in his life, when it takes hold of him, it's like a parasite planting its roots in his flesh and sapping him of all sense as it grows and grows, leaving könig a pliant, clingy, but unpredictable husk.

if he were an avatar of the corruption, his eyes would always be bloodshot and his sclera an unhealthy, yellowish hue.

the dark: brackish water, when unpaid bills led to cut utilities but thirst hit all the same, is nothing könig did not already experience. and survived.

neither is the darkness of the wardrobe könig's parents confined him in as a child when they decided he was being too much, adding hours for every whimper and sob they heard coming from it, then, often, forgetting and just leaving him in there until little könig took it upon himself to risk further punishment by breaking out.

wardrobes, lockers, niches of every kind... places of fear and torture that, with time, turned to comfort and solace. somewhere könig could hide from shouting and bullying, find the peace and quiet he needed. the shroud of darkness as a mother's caress.

now, as a grown man, (besides the occasional pang of horror a flashback brings along, pulling him back in that wardrobe) fear of the dark is the furthest thing from his mind. dark is a friend, a cherished companion.

whoever tries to use it to their advantage against könig should be more afraid for their lives, than the other way around.

if könig were an avatar of the dark he would envelope his chosen victims in sightless, feelings-less darkness out of mercy, hoping for them to tap into their inner strengths and emerge more resilient.

in his spare time, he would totally hang out with the sandman and the beast that killed robert montauk.

the desolation: under the detached, composed, even careful exterior to the point of avoidance, something burns, powerful enough to scorch the earth all around and ensure nothing ever grows again.

for könig, this rage and resentment found the constricting touch of discipline in the army, at first, and in the years that bring calm in hindsight.

yet, subdued at great cost though it may be, that voracious flame still hungers and finds release on the battlefield, where, as far as könig is concerned, anything is allowed.

he knows the fire is as dangerous to his targets as it is to him and he is not afraid. one day, that terrible heat will turn inwards and engulf him whole in self-immolation and he won't return.

if könig were an avatar of the desolation, he would be driven less by spite, than need. but he would make for quite the herald of self/destruction for self/destruction's sake all the same.

the end: it's not that hard to believe that könig, still in his prime, is actually rather surprised to still be alive. between parental abuse and bullying that earned him the kinds of beltings and beatings he thought would kill him as he endured and all the hell he has been through as a soldier, not to mention the kind of health issues that come with his size), he hasn't known a moment in which he hasn't felt like he was on borrowed time.

like the clock meant to measure his life broke and when he didn't simply ceased, a rather different one with impossible hours took over and when its invisible hands join on the designated sign one last time, he will be no more.

if he were an avatar of the end, that pocket watch would be his artefact and he would use it to those who call to him, knowingly or not. in the meantime, he will have to settle with sending as many lives to crush through the end line with more mundane means, but with the same zeal as the most devoted acolyte.

may every life he takes fuel his own, instead of consuming him more.

the eye: quiet and unseen. that is what avoiding to make himself a target has always entailed. failure still marrs his face and body in hideous, disfiguring scars. making noise, being noticed at the wrong moment - which, it seems, for young könig the moment was never right - has never paid.

but to avoid something, one has to know it well and that is what könig perfected: knowing, learning, observing, hiding.

just because he doesn't always hold the gaze of his interlocutors, or his eyes wander while he speaks or listens, it does not mean he isn't paying attention to every word, every detail. and when you turn away, you will find his eyes boring holes through you, going through every piece and scrap of information he has at disposal to assemble and make sense.

and with his education being spotty, as his formative years were spent surviving, observing as learning has been an invaluable tool. a testament to it, his being a highly valued asset.

if he were an avatar of the eye, the fear that unkind eyes might once more lay on him would be driven to full-on paranoia of being watched and known and bared open and he would do anything to prevent that. he would probably be a very violent avatar who would soon leave the eye for something that better suits his need for protection, as his mind just couldn't take it.

the flesh: what hasn't this man's flesh known? perhaps gentleness, something he could use more of, something he certainly longs for.

it has known brutality, of which it still bears the marks.

it has known change, as the beastly god in man form könig is now was once rather different. a memory of a softer, scrawnier, gentler past self he keeps locked, clinging to it as he rejects and hides from it.

it has known the harrowing of being remade anew, whilst still being trapped in its confining form, the form of what he was and, in part, will always be.

if to tom haan meat is me, to könig, meat is weapon and barrier, honed and perfected to its use and through its use.

if könig were an avatar of the flesh, he would be too busy having nasty, disgusting, bloody sex with jared hopworth in my fics, for him to have time for anything else. sorry not sorry.

the hunt: for someone who spent years of his life being prey, only two choices were available: surrender to death, or upgrade to hunter. könig is still alive, so you know what choice he made.

studying his targets, learning their habits, navigating their environment, calculating escape routes to bar or exploit, forcing to a corner... that's a huge part of his job.

and the killing, of course.

the beast in him is there, pulling, tearing, stirring, wanting out. and it does come out. merciless, ravenous, bloodthirsty. once it smells blood, that part of hunting that is all about patience, strategy and calculation is eclipsed and the berserker beast takes over, dipping claws in eyesockets, tearing limbs from cores, digging in viscera and delighting in the screams.

feeding. filling. quenching.

until next time.

if könig were an avatar of the hunt... who's to say he isn't already? one thing is certain, however: he will never be prey again.

(although, care to sink your teeth in monster!könig? brave - or lustful - enough to let him do the same with you...?)

the lonely: isolation to the point of alienation.

from being denied counting on anyone but himself, to dedicating his existence towards never needing anyone and engaging fully with his killing business, the only place that exists for him in civil society is the one he carves with bloody claws... and, by now, the interest wanes more than it waxes.

he has been forsaken too many times. betrayed by those supposed to love him and barely given a chance to love the company of any, after that.

a little, unchoked spark for connection still exists there, but it's only a matter of time until it won't anymore. still, how nice it would be if it manifested... perhaps, in the solitude of his mind, he even dreams about it and the many forms it could take. perhaps he is not so far gone. yet.

would it even be possible, now, when avoidance and compartmentalising are all he has known?

if könig were an avatar of the lonely, i don' tknow that he would much care for peter lukas and his ilk...

the slaughter: how do you feel about those scenes of extreme, brutal, senseless violence set to brautiful, haunting and entirely out-of-place music? because i think that's what könig sees and hears when all that makes him human, all that makes him who he is has shrunk so far, deep inside that all is left is an amorphous amalgam of pure... what can you even call that?

the broken child is gone, so is the reserved, quiet man. no trace of the disciplined and strategically adept colonel.

yet, something that holds all three in spirit and shows all through könig's untamed and implacable, instinctual frenzy. second nature.

and it's music and movement and dancing to that gory tune that drowns out all but the screams and tender flesh turning to wet pulp, and he knows the everchanging steps by heart.

if könig were an avatar of the slaughter, he would long to hear the piper one last time, only to be denied.

the spiral: könig has stopped being afraid of losing his mind because he knows he went mad long ago. whatever emerged is what is left. what will always be.

one thing he does not fear and trusts unconditionally are his thoughts and his senses, however. himself. that self he has earned at such high cost. whatever his self might be. what is a self, after all, if not a reflection on the mirror of circumstances?

no matter. whoever he is, he knows he can confide in. at least, on the well-navigated path of war-making. as for less certain terrrains...

but that is enough.

if könig were of the spiral, i don't think he would be aware of his... d̸̡̯̼̗̦͓̹̝̖̫͛̍̽̀͌̇͘͘͝ì̶̛͖̞̯̠̟̥͉̺̈̑̾̒͂͝ͅs̵̨͓̲̮̳̖̣͈͑̾t̷͙͈͍͌̅̾͛̔̌̚̕͝͝ŏ̷̱͔̱̱̜̗͒ͅŕ̷̟̬͊̒͂̇͐͒́t̶̨͎͊͋̄͛̈̀̚͠͝i̷̛̠̗̯̾̽̅̾̽̕͘̚͝o̷͎̞͉̺̝̍͐̐̊͘n̷̢̩͉̥͕͓͈͈̳̽̀̐͜

the stranger: who's to say who lies under that mask? he must be human, of that you are sure. what else, otherwise? yet, how many have had the chance to make sure?

how many masks would they have to lift, before finding something at least resembling the expected? and would that be him? the real him? are you sure?

inhuman proportions. inhuman temperament. always hiding in plain sight.

at least from a distance, as, sometimes by choice, sometimes by necessity, unknown is all he really will ever be to most.

if something took his place, could you really tell? would you even care?

one thing is sure: he could teach you the insides, if you were willing to learn. but would you like that?

if könig were of the stranger, the entity known as Ⴆɾҽҽƙσɳ αɳԃ ԋσρҽ would instead be known as ɮʀɛɛӄօռ ǟռɖ ɦօքɛ ǟռɖ ӄöռɨɢ. nothing would be different, otherwise.

(would love to see the ragtag team of institute assistants and avatars of the slaughter try stopping another unknowing. we would all be nameless dolls. no doubt about that.)

the vast: if there is someone aware of his insignificance, that is könig. when you scream loud and often enough, but no one comes, it is easy to get the message and surrender to how obvious it is that you don't count. something he seems to have accepted. a pawn in a bigger game that he is willing to be part of, as long as he is rewarded for it.

if war doesn't kill him, the uncaring universe will and he has made peace with that fact a long time ago.

until then, he'd rather avoid open, unending spaces that leave him vulnerable in conflict. cramped, tight quarters are always preferable.

if he were an avatar of the vast, he wouldn't be able to stand simon and his carefree, playful attitude. give könig a couple of centuries and he might reconsider.

alternatively, he would be the titan in fallen titan.

the web: hm, the mother... könig sure loves whimpering for his mummy with tears streaming down his cheeks and desperation in his eyes, if you catch him at the right moment.

(at least, when i'm writing him, he does... >.>)

otherwise, growing up the way he did, könig probably developed a natural aversion towards scheming, even when lies to protect himself were his only, often unsuccsessful, option.

being averse to schemes is not the same as being incapable of recognising them. but, at some point, anything can look like one and isolation becomes the only defence.

unless the scheme is grand enough that playing his role in it will benefit him more than it doesn't. for the right pay and a chance to walk away when he wants, there isn't much the man won't do.

if könig were chosen by the web... he would finish what was started and bash annabelle's skull in once and for all.

the extinction: what horrific creatures humans could one day become has always been under the surface and könig knew it in the past, as much as he sees it now, in what he does, how he does it and how other mirror his actions without regrets.

technology only makes it easier, but it's a tool in greedy hands. whatever animates those hands has always been there.

and the military has taken ample advantage of it: advances in media technology, for better means of propaganda, advances in weaponry, from the atomic bomb to drones, to make killing many as easy as pressing a button: no boots on ground needed.

this man clad in kevlar like second skin knows it well: he is part of it and has no strong feelings either way and no intention of quitting.

distopia is now, luv, and it makes. him. hard!

factions rising, factions falling. faces changing, but their spirit always the same and könig will be alongside them, exacting his pound... or his euro, his dollar, his ruble, his yen, his bitcoin, his ethereum...

he is prepared. he will survive and he will thrive and then he'll cease and nothing will matter anymore.

fatten his bank account, pump him full of secret military drugs and point him in the right direction. that's all he knows. that's all he asks.

if könig were an agent of the extinction, he would enjoy bringing about annihilation quite a lot.

[butterflies-and-roaches]

Butterflies and roaches are types of bugs

You know what else is a type of bug?

✨worms✨

(saying this just in case, I am lu-lus-duckies)

Ok i have 3 things to say to this:

1. Yes you are correct (and no worries i recognised you)

2. I believe in butterflies supremacy (have been since i was 3 and going strong still)

3. Love worms, used to poke them with a stick and see how they'd react, slimy vulnerable creatures, THEY NEVER HAD A CHANCE

Coming out of the dirt when it rains to slide on the wet concrete and FOR WHAT??

JUST TO BE SQUISHED UNDER BOOTS AND POKED WITH POINTY STICKS >:]

(k that escalated quickly oops :3)

[possum-quesadilla]

Here is the official chronological playlist for LoopJuice! I can’t link the ones I made because they have my name attached to them, so I suppose typing it out is the next best thing! It goes chapter by chapter and even goes through to the end of Time’s Arrow, so uh. Spoilers I guess for the vibes beyond the current chapter! (And for the possible Part 3)

Time is a Flat Circle:

Chapter One; “Go through the emotions again and again” (The Heroine by Unwoman)

- Rain by Jack Stauber // Hansel by Sodikken // Friends In Low Places by Worthikids // Soft Fuzzy Man by Lemon Demon // Eighth Wonder by Lemon Demon // Charlie’s Inferno by That Handsome Devil // Nothing Man by Sodikken // Mirror Man by Jack Stauber // Is Anyone There by Jack Stauber // Buttercup by Jack Stauber // taixu by lasah/sasakure.UK

Chapter Two; “In heaven, everything is fine” (In Heaven (Lady in the Radiator Song) by David Lynch)

- In Heaven (Lady in the Radiator Song) by David Lynch // A Human’s Touch by TWRP and McKenna Rae // Look Who’s Inside Again by Bo Burnham // Burn Him Down! By Kitsch Club // The Sword of Damocles from Rocky Horror Show

Chapter Three; “I’ve tasted dying and it tasted good!” (Dinner Is Not Over by Jack Stauber)

- Mama’s Boy by Dominic Fike // The Wolf Song by Amanda Palmer // Loved by FEiN // Class of 2013 by Mitski // You’re at the Party by Lemon Demon // Hard Sell by The Crane Wives // Home by Cavetown // Sweet Hibiscus Tea by Penelope Scott // Any Day Now by Bo Burnham // Dinner Is Not Over by Jack Stauber

Chapter Four; “Falling doesn’t feel so bad when I know you’re falling this way too” (Deviltown (V2) by Cavetown)

- Oh Klahoma by Jack Stauber // The Moss by Cosmo Sheldrake // Devil Town (V2) by Cavetown

Chapter Five; “Try to hold the breeze within your fingertips, it’s hopeless” (So Long by Tokyo Elvis)

- So Long by Tokyo Elvis // A Mask of My Own Face by Lemon Demon

Chapter Six; “And this time I actually feel them” (The Heroine by Unwoman)

- I Guess by Mitski // Pale Machine by bo en // My Time by bo en // There’s Something Happening by Jack Stauber // Fighter by Jack Stauber // Choice by Jack Stauber // I Deserve to Bleed by Sushi Soucy // Poor George by James Supercave

Chapter Seven; “And I don’t want your pity, I just want somebody near me” (Nobody by Mitski)

- Curses by The Crane Wives // Nobody by Mitski // Shapes by Alec Holowka // Icarus by Bastille // A Sadness Runs Through Him by The Hoosiers

Chapter Eight; “I know you have a little life in you yet, I know you have a lot of strength left” (This Woman’s Work by Kate Bush)

- I’m Your Man by Mitski // Goodbye, My Danish Sweetheart by Mitski // Achilles Come Down by Gang of Youths // Last Words of a Shooting Star by Mitski // Pearl Diver by Mitski // Coyotes (alternate vocals) by Modest Mouse // Goodbye by Bo Burnham // Never Love an Anchor by The Crane Wives //I Am Damaged from Heathers // This Woman’s Work by Kate Bush // Skeleton Song by Kate Nash // What If Tomorrow Comes from Black Friday

Time’s Arrow:

Chapter One; “There’s some kind of burning inside me, It’s kept me from falling apart” (Goodbye, My Danish Sweetheart by Mitski)

- Leopard by Jack Stauber // Dog Nightmare by Jack Stauber // Good Kid from The Lightning Thief musical // Abbey by Mitski // Cop Car by Mitski // The Moon Will Sing by The Crane Wives // Francis Forever by Mitski // you smell of dead flowers by vslush, cover by Cliesel // Tongues & Teeth by The Crane Wives

Chapter Two; “Digging like you can bury something that cannot die, We could wash the dirt off our hands now”

- Mt. Washington by Local Natives // I Bet on Losing Dogs by Mitski // Dead Weight by Jack Stauber // Bug Like an Angel by Mitski

Chapter Three:

- Darren by Jack Stauber // Everything Stays from Adventure Time // Lemon Boy by Cavetown // Ghosting by Mother Mother // Parrot by Stepdad // Snail by Cavetown

BEYOND CURRENT POINT:

- Moonsickness by Penelope Scott // Today Today by Jack Stauber

- I’d Rather Sleep by Kero Kero Bonito // Ain’t It Fun by Paramore // Furniture by Owen Pallett // My Alcoholic Friends by The Dresden Dolls // Hey, Little Songbird from Hadestown // butch 4 butch by Rio Romeo // Harness Your Hopes (Sped Up) by Pavement // Me and My Husband by Mitski // Yr the Best! By carpetgarden // maggot belly by awfultune // Racehorse: Get Married! By Jordaan Mason // No Children by The Mountain Goats // Gross by Penelope Scott // Loving Man by The Little Stevies // Feel Better by Penelope Scott // Good Luck, Babe! By Chappell Roan // All 2 U from Helluva Boss // Woke Up from Adventure Time

- She by Dodie // Just Some Guy from Dead End: Paranormal Park // Green by Cavetown // Jealous by Eyedress // Stray Italian Greyhound by Vienna Teng // Sweet Tooth by Cavetown // Sunflower by Post Malone // Hidden In the Sand by Tally Hall // Washing Machine Heart by Mitski // When He Sees Me from Waitress // I Won’t Say (I’m in Love) from Hercules // She Wants Me (To Be Loved) by The Happy Fits // Strawberry Blond by Mitski // Linger by The Cranberries // I’d Like To Walk Around In Your Mind by Vashti Bunyan // Dear Arkansas Daughter by Lady Lamb // From Eden by Hozier // The Good In Me by Jon Bellion // Like Real People Do by Hozier // In The Middle by dodie // Ultimately by khai dreams // Samson by Regina Spektor // Monster from Adventure Time // Love Like You from Steven Universe

- Two Time by Jack Stauber // Estranger by Jack Stauber // That Distant Shore from Steven Universe // Cosmic Love by Florence + The Machine // Love Love Love by The Mountain Goats // Dog Days Are Over by Florence + The Machine // Bugbear by Chloe Moriondo // Lost by Amanda Palmer // Die Anywhere Else from Night in the Woods // Putting The Dog To Sleep by The Antlers // Zombie by The Cranberries // A Deer Mistaking Candles for Headlights by Crywank // Fading Kitten Syndrome by Roar // Neighborhood #2 (Laika) by Arcade Fire // Cheeseburger Family by Jack Stauber // Lonely from Bee and Puppycat // What Did You Do by Jack Stauber // Our Word from 36 Questions // Just Take My Wallet by Jack Stauber // Lima Bean Man by Jack Stauber // Running Up That Hill by Kate Bush // Love Will by Jack Stauber // That’s Not How The Story Goes from A Series of Unfortunate Events // The End by Jack Stauber

[jedi-bird]

A vent post about house repairs because I need to get it out before I start screaming at the walls.

Before we got married, my partner's family decided to renovate their house. Partly because it had never been finished when they moved in (concrete slab instead of floors, broken and missing tiles, one bathroom unusable, shitty electrical, no central air or heat) and partly because a pipe broke and why just fix one thing. In the planning stages, they asked if I had any opinions. I told them a few things to watch out for that they were considering. Don't use sensor lights the house. Don't use tiles with lots of little parts in bathrooms. Don't get glass sinks for the bathroom that's going to need a lift bar. And only hire licensed people.

I was told, after helping them look for months at options, that my opinions didn't matter because I was never going to live there. My partner and I were engaged at this point. So I shut up and said nothing.

Surprise, surprise. Guess where we now live? And guess what problems there are?

First off, mother in law could not be convinced to not hire none licensed crews. The plumbing that they replaced? That they were supposed to level off for the downstairs bathroom since the pipe was for some reason angled up? Most of it was replaced except the bathroom, which still doesn't work right. The electrical? We're currently dealing with no working lights in the master bath, no working plug in the upstairs bathroom, two of four sockets shorted out in the office and at least one in our bedroom, the socket never worked in the laundry room, and no additional plugs added to the garage like they paid for.

The upstairs floors were not leveled so things tilt (I get very bad vertigo in two specific places while walking). Floorboards were not the ones ordered and are already wearing out pretty significantly. Tiles not level in the shower. Doors and doorjams not fully painted. Several plugs painted over completely. Cracks in the walls and ceiling. Broken glass cabinet. Mismeasured counter tops so a very expensive sink couldn't be used after already being purchased. Air conditioner broken because they moved it and then hit it. Trash left all over the yard and buried under the dirt from the replaced pipe (which they didn't cover so water leaks into the house every time it rains). A jet tub that mother in law wanted and was never properly installed so the jets never worked. Dimmer switches that immediately broke (properly part of the short). Windows that can't be opened in two rooms because they were installed wrong.

They eventually got so fed up with nothing getting done that they fired the construction people, who then threatened to sue despite getting paid in full at the start of the project (another thing I said not to do). It took another very large payment to get them to leave. So now, not only do we have all of that that's wrong and still never been fixed, we also have two large gaps in the walls that apparently only I noticed and care about (because bugs keep getting in) and now a broken downstairs toilet leaking everywhere because it too was installed wrong.

I'm pissed. I'm so very very pissed. I'm the one who has to clean this place and half of the choices make it harder than it should be. The bathrooms all have fucking sensor lights that can never tell when I'm waving at them so they turn off and stay off. That first broken cabinet in still in the upstairs of the house, shoved into a box that no one will let me get rid of. We currently have a water damaged wall full of mold and a broken roof that desperately need to be fixed (hopefully before this winter).

I'm so very fucking tired and have resorted to repairing small things myself because I know how to do some of it. Which makes the others mad but we can't just ignore it! Yes, the house is safe and livable. But why leave it with problems? Why can't we just get the big stuff done?

Rant over for now. But yeah, I'm very frustrated and still am not allowed to have an opinion despite living here and taking care of things.