#of a friday night
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maybe i came too early, maybe i came too late
i’m waiting in the shadows of the scaffolds of the old cafés where you told me to wait
#megatron#impactor#transformers#maccadam#megaimpact#megaimpactor#hiiiii transfans……. ermmmm…………. i’ve definitely been drawing at all#and just prepping a bunch of art to post hahaha….. totally……… anyways.#this was for rarepairing fest but im impatient so youre getting it now#who knows maybe they’ll rb anyways im not god i dont know the future#anyways can anybody give me some fucjing megaimpactor. please. dear god.#uhhh this is inspired by four things. nighthawks the painting. of a friday night by anais mitchell. skin&bones by cage the elephant.#and of course hlm!#other titles were#of a friday night#meet me at the bar#(<- yes thats a reference to MassEffect leave me alone)#and last but not least#where did the old poet go? i asked around. nobody knows#set in the continuity ‘totally not idw1’#literally can never stop thinking about these two
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“horror movies of the 1980s exist at the glorious watershed when special visual effects finally catch up with the gory imaginings of horror fans and movie makers. technical advances in special effects (animatronics, liquid and foam latex) meant the human frame could be distorted to grotesque new dimensions on screen. 1980s horror movies delivered the full colour close-up, look-no-strings-attached, special effect in a way that previous practitioners of the art could only dream about. everything lurking in the shadows in older horror movies was now dragged into the garish light of day. the monsters were finally out of the closet.”
#horror#horror movies#horror decades#80s horror#horroredit#moviesedit#filmedit#cinema#horror cinema#friday the 13th#the thing#the shining#a nightmare on elm street#re-animator#child's play#gremlins#the fly#the return of the living dead#demons#evil dead#ghostbusters#night of the demons#the lost boys#hellraiser#basket case#videodrome#near dark#possession#scanners#an american werewolf in london
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✨⚔ The Veilguard 🛡✨
#Dragon Age#Dragon Age: the Veilguard#DAtV#FanFriDAys#Neve Gallus#Bellara Lutare#Taash#Davrin#Warden Davrin#Assan#Lucanis Dellamorte#Lace Harding#Scout Lace Harding#Emmrich Volkarin#Fanart#was feeling insane last friday night and now here we are~#and of course new trailers get released and i find out I've drawn everyone's shit wrong :)))))#ahhhh well I've given it my best and i was probably gonna end up taking some liberties somewhere anywayssss#I can't WAIT to meet all of the in October i'm so excited i'm gonna be sick I'm Already Throwing Up
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weekend 1 be like
#fnf#friday night funkin#fnf pico#fnf darnell#idk when else im gonna say it so ill say it here:#darnell got hammer shaped haircut
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The Van Has Officially Declared It Spooky Season
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I've got my parent's van for the week and it seems determined to establish my status as The Local Cryptid by terrorizing an innocent 7-11 clerk.
...I might need to back up a bit.
My mother is an eminently sensible woman who knows herself well, and when The Plauge hit, she knew she'd need some sort of mentally and physically engaging craft project to keep herself from going insane and massacring the local zoning and water management boards (even if they have it coming). So she and Dad acquired a utility van and converted it into a camper van because while they love camping, they're past the age where their joints and immune systems will tolerate sleeping on the cold ground in a nylon tent.
They did a terrific job of it and my mom taught herself woodworking and carpentry and now the van has it's own cabinets, fold-away dining table, and removable queen-sized bed with memory foam mattress. My Dad was already a computer engineer, but he learned the dark magics of automotive software and electronics to install after-market backup cameras, a media player that would take a terabyte hard drive and a solar-powered battery and outlet so they could wake up and just turn on the kettle and griddle for breakfast without having to exit the van into a cold morning on an empty stomach.
Truly, the height of Camping Luxury.
My parents are both in their mid-seventies and my primary life goal is to be at least half as cool and hale as they are when I get old.
Anyway, they take it out at least a dozen times a year and it works fabulously, but, being as I am on good terms with my parents and also finishing the process of moving house, I've been borrowing it to move large and cumbersome objects that will not fit in the back of my equally lovely but minuscule Honda hatchback.
It's a Great Van. Very easy and comfortable to drive. Stunningly good MPG for it's size. The best cruise control I've ever had in a car.
It's just also. Quirky. Mischievous, even.
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If this van has a fault its that it bears the unfortunate affliction that all lightly used white utility vans have in that the combination of an utter lack of branding features and the large dent/scrape I accidentally put on it while trying to escape a Denny's last Thanksgiving means that this vehicle is one addition of a Badly Spray-Painted "FREE CANDY" on the side away from being the sort of vehicle you see in an edgy horror movie.
It's got the same issue that Doberman Dogs have where they look like the sort of creature that likes to snack on toddler's faces whilst actually having personalities made of marshmallow fluff. This vehicle is unnecessarily menacing and I think nothing short of an airbrushed Epic Van Wizard will correct this. People see this van pull up and lean over and squint suspiciously at me when the driver's side door opens, and then look moderately confused when, instead of Charles Manson, a small, potato-shaped creature with neon purple hair and a statistically unlikely assortment of dogs emerges.
My own two dogs, Herschel the Hanukkah Goblin/Corgi and Charleston Chew The Taco Dumpster Dog, Do Not Like The Van. Even with the bed in it, they have a tendency to slide and roll around in the back, and both WILL chew through dog saftey belts or other attempts to secure them in there.
On the other hand, my house mate's dog, an exceptionally tall standard poodle whom we lovingly call "The Creature", loves the Van because SHE wears her doggy seat-belt with only mild complaining and gets to sit up in the passenger seat like A People.
Also like A People, The Creature likes to stand and walk around on her hind legs. It doesn't hurt her and it's entirely voluntary, but every so often I will feel a hand on my arm and instead of my husband or friend, it's a canine that's taller than I am on her hind legs who wants to stare at my face with soulful, concerned eyes. The Creature's favorite thing is that she is exactly the right height for me to hold her arm in Genteel Fashion and walk around the pet food or hardware store with her like I'm a count escorting a debutante around a royal ball.
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As it stands, I am set to inherit this vehicle whenever my Honda gives up the ghost, and I fully intend to paint an Epic Van Wizard on it when that time comes.
The other peculiarity of The Van is that while Dad did manage to successfully install all his after-market electronics, not all the electronics get along. Sometimes, they fight for Dominance. The Terabyte Music Player and the Backup Camera have a particularly contentious relationship, and turning on the music has about a 25% chance of turning on the backup camera as well, and turning on the Backup Camera is equally likely to turn on the music.
Firthermore, The Van has a favorite song.
I am not kidding that Dad filled an entire terabyte hard drive with music and the software to sort it via the radio controls, but of all the Early Boomer Dad Rock (Kingston Trio over The Eagles) and Irish Folk and Symphonies and the entire discography of Weird Al Yankovic, The Van's favorite song- The one it picks to play as victory music every time it beats the Backup Camera at their weird electronic game of rock-paper-scissors -is The Liberty Bell March by John Phillip Sousa.
You all know this song already.
...but in case you've forgotten the tune:
youtube
Yeah.
The Van's favorite song is the goddamn Monty Python's Flying Circus Theme Music.
It does not play this song at a normal volume.
Every time I turn on the Backup Camera and it manages to turn the music player on as well, The Van insists on absolutely blasting this nonsense on at the maximum volume it's physically capable of producing, which I know is loud enough to be heard from the Denver International Airport's Pickup zone when they Van decided to start playing it from the economy lot about half a mile away.
Perhaps it's The Van's way of honoring the aesthetic sensibilities and sonic enthusiasm of Mr. Sousa.
...I can't help but wonder if the purpose of an Epic Van Wizard is to control this sort of faerie-like malarkey, and channel these chaotic energies into things like Spell of Don't Break Down In Nevada or Enchantment Of Always Have Good Parking.
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So last Friday the 13th, I get a call from my friend and housemate, at said airport.
It's roughly 11PM at night, and I have already retired for the evening. I am in the exact minimum of clothing required to be a decent housemate and not scandalize the neighbors should I happen to walk by a window. My feet are up. There is a cat in my lap and fictional British people murdering each other in highly inventive fashion on the tv. -But my friend has returned from her friend's wedding,and either American or United Airlines has managed to lose her luggage, including, among other valuable possessions, the keys to her car. ...So she cannot just drive home as originally planned.
There are, as luck would have it, her spare set of keys not eight feet from me.
Being a good and decent person, I agree to bring the spare keys to her so she may get home before daybreak and not spend a semester's worth of tuition on an uber across the greater Denver traffic jam.
Being also that she Loves Activities, and it's her mom we're going to pick up, I elect to take along The Creature.
I am primarily focused on remembering how to get to the airport and not leaving my friend's spare keys on the counter, so I throw on a pair of flip-flops, step outside, remember that it's AUTUMN and my minimal evening attire is not sufficient thermal protection, step back in, grab the first coat in the closet I lay hands on, pull it on, check that I have her keys again and leave.
The trip to the airport is largely unremarkable, save that it becomes necessary for me to put on sunglasses to drive, despite it being nearly the witching hour and almost entirely darker than the inside of a cow.
It's necessary because this blissful darkness of night is violently punctured by a startling number of cars that seem to have installed miniaturized but no less powerful lighthouse bulbs in where their headlights ought to go so the oncoming traffic and sports cars that insist on tailgating me in the slow lane alike illuminate the road and my mirrors with the kind of radiance I'd normally associate with the arrival of a Seraphim.
I arrive at the distant highly discounted airport car lot where my housemate is waiting, deeply apologetic. It's nothing. I say. Once I see that your car starts up, I'm gonna go to that 7-11 across the way that I parked in front of, get a slurpee or something and I'll see you at home.
While she is retrieving her vehicle (an equally eccentric but much more stately Subaru that is old enough to be elected to congress) I rifle through the loose change in the glove box and discover that I have exactly $6.66 in small bills and coins. The Subaru, continuing it's long voyage into vehicular immortality, immediately starts up.
Upon her return, we all remember that my friend had all her camping gear in the backseat of the car and there is no room for The Creature to ride home with her parent, so I again assure her it's nothing, and will just take The Creature into the 7-11 with me. She is trained as a service animal and needs the practice after the plague.
I wave my friend off and turn to enter the 7-11.
I promptly trip over the jutting back bumper of The Van and fall, cartoonishly, face-first onto the sidewalk.
Fortunately, I have a lot of practice falling on my face, and have learned not to throw my hands out but instead cover my face, so my unexpected self-inflicted attempted curb-stomping lightly scrapes my hairline and nothing else -my sunglasses even stay in place- and I get up and resume my quest for a slurpee.
It's well known that the airport is a lawless place, and the 7-11 across from the discounted airport parking at the stroke of midnight is no exception.
I know it's the stroke of Midnight because there's one of those Audubon society bird-call clocks that makes bird noises, and my arrival is heralded by the twittering call of a Summer Tanager. I am almost charmed enough by the unusual choice of chronological device to excuse the exorbitant Airport-adjacent mark-up of Slurpee prices. I stand at the machine for some time, trying to decide on a size for the price and guess what the fuck "Blue Lighting Blast" is supposed to taste like.
The Creature is being Very Polite but is somewhat agitated, I assume because she *just* saw her mother for the first time in three days and then she LEFT with no explanation, so The Creature is on her hind legs, staring woefully into my eyes, asking to be escorted around the 7-11. Even though that's not what she's not supposed to be doing, there's nobody else in here, so I let her hang off my arm and discuss various Slurpee Flavor options with her.
We eventually decide on an experiment in which I try a Small Blue Lightning Blast, and discover it tastes a bit like licking a nintendo cartridge but in a pleasantly satisfying way.
I go up to pay and realize something is amiss.
The Cashier is a young man staring at me with wide eyes, one had over the register and the other wrapped up in his rosary.
I look down at myself.
In my haste to reunite my friend with her spare keys and service animal, I had left the house in the following accoutrements:
Flip Flops. Not matching. It's below freezing outside. That last part is not particularly odd footwear for the weather in for Colorado, but it's an important detail for the rest of the ensemble.
Assorted scrapes, bruises, cuts and welts on my arms and legs that come with doing outdoor work and living in a house with three dogs and a fully-clawed cat that all want to be in my lap all the time. It's cold out, so vasoconstriction has pulled the blood away from my skin, a trait that served my ancestors well during the last Ice Age, but leaves me with pale skin to contrast the various wounds and I look like a corpse that fell out of the back of a pickup truck.
The black Bootyshorts with "CRYPTID" painted in bright red gothic font across my ass, that @theshitpostcalligrapher gave me for my wedding present.
A peculiar but extremely comfortable garment that straddles the line between "Lacy Camisole" and "Industrial-Strength Sports Bra" like the Ever Given straddling the Suez Canal. It is also Bright Red. with black accents.
The Jacket I had grabbed out of the closet, which is in fact, a black Velour Dinner Jacket.
The Tokyo-Ghoul inspired reusable anti-covid mask a friend made me with the set of Coyote Teeth.
My sunglasses, which are shaped like a Halloween Bat. The lenses are the wings and the body is the nose bridge. It is ALSO bright red.
A Very Large and remarkably Humanoid Poodle that I have been audibly affectionately calling "Dear Creature" who is hanging off my arm like she's my Prom Date.
The Very Large and remarkably Humanoid Poodle is ALSO dressed up in a black Dog Sweater that has white bones printed on it to look like its an X-ray jacket showing off her skeleton.
I look like I am taking my Very Fancy Werewolf Girlfriend to a particularly casual Dinner Party for Vampires, but the thing that's really selling it and probably alarming the kid the most is the fun accessory I acquired in the parking lot not five minutes earlier:
The "Small Scrape At my Hairline" is actually a painless but PROFUSELY bleeding head wound that I had somehow entirely failed to notice covering my face, neck, decolletage and magnificent cleavage with blood like a Tarantino Film Extra.
This does explain why The Creature has been delicately trying to use her bodyweight to push me down onto the floor for the last ten minutes. So I don't injure myself while we wait for the paramedics she hoped this kid called to arrive, you see.
The Creature has such a High and Naive Opinion of humanity.
I decide this social situation is already fucked, and the only way out is through, and with haste, before I start dripping on the floor.
"Hi there!" I say cheerfully, to indicate this is a visually alarming but not terribly serious situation. "Just a Small Slurpee!"
The Cashier has entered the relevant code into the register before I finish the sentence. His gaze flicks off me just long enough to look at the total, and he grips his Rosary harder.
$6.66
"Oh cool! I have exact change!" I say, taking the money out of my as-yet-unsanguined pocket without looking and slap it down on the counter. "You have a good night and be safe out there!" I wave, leaving.
I get in The Van, mortified, buckle The Creature up, and as I make to leave, I have to put it in reverse, which automatically turns on the backup Camera.
It also turns on the music player.
I make eye contact with the cashier as the dulcet tones of John Phillip Sousa boom from the van hard enough to make the windshield and the windows of the 7-11 rattle for the nine-and-a-half seconds I have to wait to be able to turn the volume back down. Not knowing what else to to, I give him a thumbs up, and leave.
Anyway, now I know what my Future Van Wizard has got to be dressed like, and what their familiar is.
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#Family Lore#Dogs#It's Halloween babey#friday the 13th#blood mention#I hope that kid had a good night and at least one of his friends believed him#Long post#Video
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10 Movies From The 1980s To Consider For October/Halloween
#Horror#Filmedit#Horroredit#An American Werewolf In London#Beetlejuice#Evil Dead 2#Friday The 13th Part 3#Hellraiser#Killer Klowns From Outer Space#The Lost Boys#A Nightmare On Elm Street#Night Of The Demons#The Thing#CHB#10 Movies To Consider#I am not saying that these are the best or that they are my favorites.#Just 10 movies that I think are worth watching for the season.
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Jade Cargill - Friday Night SmackDown 08/11/2024
#wwe#wweedit#jade cargill#wwe gifs#smackdown#women's wrestling#wwe smackdown#friday night smackdown#stuff i made
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It’s so funny when religious people are like “I can’t do/say/wear/eat XYZ because god told me not to” and you just have to be like. Ok.
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Vibing to her own beat
#black girl aesthetic#black girl blogger#black girls of tumblr#pinterest#black girl joy#black girl magic#soft life#black girl beauty#luxury#soft girl era#black girl#melanin#all shades of black#hot gurls#big mama#big latto#megan thee stallion#beyonce#kelly rowland#solange knowles#black is better#black people#friday night vibes#vibing#90s music#wine#polaroid pictures#pintrest girl#tumblr girlies#blessed
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I want the fnf plushies so bad 😢...
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A Perfect Friday Night. 💜🖤
#peaceful#intimate#cozy#connection#rain#thunderstorms#life is beautiful#gorgeous#my thoughts#lovers#books#wine#friday night
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throws these at you
#marvel cinematic universe#xmen movies#xmen#xmen apocalypse#charles xavier#erik lehnsherr#do i tag it cherik. of course i do#cherik#snap sketches#i have once again failed to draw erik's plan outfit from dofp cjWALcjkalkc#TOMORROW. or friday. i want to draw it at some point ..#idk how i ended up here. think i just wanted to draw bald charles. and the wheelchair...#thats why i gave up when it came to coloring and shading vklejalkj just a quick thing !!!!! ill make something epic soon. maybe. <-lying#anyway i have to decide if when i draw that outfit it will be another cherik thing or just a solo. might do the latter lest i go mad#for now good night !!!!!!!!!!!!!! i have class in seven hours and i need to sleep !!!!!
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William Afton request <3
#peack's art#william afton#fnaf fanart#five nights at freddy's#digital art#artists on tumblr#fanart friday
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Gaz and you having a little free use roommate situation so you can both relieve tension without having to worry about the stress of using apps or dating while trying to juggle a career. especially since Kyle is away so often. and you both know that it's just casual - no strings attached, no expectations. if Gaz comes home in a mood, you know he's allowed to drag you into his bedroom and use your pussy for a couple hours until he's cleared his head, patting your ass before rolling off the bed and taking a quick shower while his come leaks from your puffy hole. and you're allowed to crawl under his desk and suck his cock for a bit when you're stressed about work and just need something to take your mind off your latest assignment. that's just the way your arrangement works.
only he finds himself getting irked when you mention in a text that a coworker asked you out for drinks after work, so you'll be home late. he came home expecting you to be sitting on the couch waiting for him to put on a movie so the two of you could fool around. now he has to make himself something to eat and sit on the couch by himself watching the clock, his temper rising more with every hour that you stay out. it's going to be rough for you when you finally get home. if you have any sense at all, you won't show up at the door with the guy you just abandoned Gaz for, because he's in the mood to make you take his cock down your throat the second you unlock the apartment door, regardless of an audience.
#he's not jealous though that would be silly....you're not dating#he just expected that the two of you would spend your friday night together because you always do#gaz x reader#gaz x you#ceil writing
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