#rosscore

[sysba]

thank you @cashweasel and @likesomethingblooming for the tag xoxo this was super hard bc if it was not clear i go through tv shows like one goes thru underwear and i v easily become obsessed lmao let's say these are Besties ig,,,, you might notice common themes (found family, gays, siblings, gruesome murderers babygirlies) lol also honour mention to queer eye, vanitas no carte and 9-1-1/my babygirlie buck,,,

everyone probably got tagged already so feel free to ignore but @night-triumphantt @magesmiths @khiita @leondaltons @lavampira @stephschoices

[jametartt]

just how many oldest siblings ruined me to this day,,,,

it was Nani and Murtagh and Itachi and then Jack Frost and Katniss and i can't believe i'm saying it but Tony Elliot and Sesshomaru,,,,, Bellamy.....and THEN, Tadashi! until it came down to Han Seojun and Vanitas because of course and Sun Bak and chonces Tyril and UGH A Du Mortannie and Akiteru and Rio Diaz and Jenny Shindanai and Flavio and Arcane Vi plus goddamn Choso LET ME LIVE I AM BEGGING ENOUGH WITH THE ELDEST SIBLINGS ENOUGH

[b0rateen]

Freaking love mint chocolate chip ice cream

[ohh-fiddlesticks]

i think me (‘me’ in this case meaning ‘my s/i’) and ross would have such an interesting friendship cos like. on the one hand ross kinda sucks in general and would probably be a fair bit prejudiced against me at least at first, but on the other hand i think we’d definitely bond over a shared interest in science especially since none of the other main cast are remotely interested in science. like id genuinely love to read over his palaeontology lectures or whatever… i feel like science would be a bit of a bridge to actually getting along for us

[crossover-enthusiast]

Obsessed with the favt that this person has a whole Pinterest board dedicated to this specific frog on a skateboard btw

FR

Rosscore

[whatwewrotepodcast]

The first time I saw her, she was sitting on the wharf, her legs crossed under her, a book propped open on her lap. She was wearing a knitted cap over her long, thick black hair, and a chunky cream scarf was wound around her neck against the cold air. I wondered how long she’d been sitting there. It seemed too cold to be reading outside. It was a strange place to sit and read. There was no beauty in the spot today. Low, grey clouds hung over the choppy, cold water, and every now and then a few icy spits of rain came splattering down. It was a damp, unpleasant sort of day, the sort of day you only ever got in the British isles. A grey sky over a grey sea, a landscape permeated by grey. I stood and watched her for a while, curious. She only moved to turn the page, flipping it over with small, delicate fingers. After a while, I shook my head and walked on, leaving her to her strange pursuits.

The next time I saw her was a watercolour day, a brief respite from the rain. A watery sun threw its warmthless light over the soaked green fields. The sky was washed out, as if all the colour had been wrung out with the rain. She was still wearing the knitted cap, but she’d traded the scarf for a battered looking hoodie. She wasn’t reading this time, just looking out over the water, a vivid slash of colour in the otherwise pale day. I was in a hurry, and didn’t linger.

The next time I saw her, curiosity got the better of me. She was lying on her stomach on the end of the wharf, heedless of the damp that must have been soaking through her clothes. Her hands were held out over the salty waves, and I had the perverse impression that she was trying to summon some creature of the deep, some malevolent water spirit to wreak revenge on her enemies. It was a fanciful notion, but something about the intense set of her features unsettled me.

“What are you doing?” I asked as I approached her. She showed no sign of surprise at my voice, as if she had expected me to speak to her. Perhaps she’d just heard my footsteps on the boards. She stretched downwards, leaning even further over the edge of the wharf until her fingertips could brush the surface of the water, as if I supplication. I resisted the urge to grab her by the back of her shirt and pull her away from the edge, lest she fall in.

“Waiting for him to come back to me.” She said as if it were the most normal thing in the world. I considered that for a moment. It would be logical to assume she meant someone on a ship – a father or brother or lover? Sailed away to fish, or fight, or travel? And yet somehow, with the way she peered so intently into the depths, I had the odd feeling that wasn’t it.

“Who?” I asked. She didn’t look up, her long dark hair nearly touching the water as she exhaled, stroking the water again.

“Oh, he doesn’t have a name. But he’ll be here, soon.” She said, and then she did turn to me, a wide smile curving her mouth, “Soon.” She repeated. Something about her expression filled me with a sharp, nervous jolt, and I found myself turning and walking away before I even knew what I was doing. I was unsettled to my very core with no idea why.

According to the newspapers, the girl – her name was Emily Rosscore – disappeared that night. No one ever saw or heard from her again. I never told anyone of the conversation I’d had with her. I was only half convinced I hadn’t imagined it. The official line was that she’d fallen in the ocean and drowned, but for some reason, I could never quite bring myself to believe it. I hoped whoever she’d been waiting for had come back for her, and swept her away from this humdrum world.

[chainsawgirlfriend]

I hope St. Agatha City gets popular enough that there are character playlists on Spotify for me to browse. Denver would love this song. This is so Rosscore, you get it. Pixy would never listen to this.

[nowthatswhaticalllosing]

Now That’s What I Call Music! 7

Preface: Hi internet! I belong to a fantasy football league with my friends from college, and I lost this season! I received my punishment for placing last of the 12 teams, and I am required to listen to all of the Now That’s What I Call Music! compilations that currently exist (70 as of May 2019), review them (by rating each song on a scale of 1-10/10), and (at the end of this descent into madness) create my definitive power ranking of each album.

Album: Now That’s What I Call Music! 7

Release Date: July 31, 2001

Track Listing and Awarded Scores:

Average Score: 6.63/10

The Good: 

Hey guys! [Name redacted] here! Just getting ready for a regular routine post about early 2000s music and how depressing this is and OH MY GOODNESS WHAT’S GOING ON

IT’S A GUEST POST FROM OUR PAL MITCH! Take it away.

Hi everyone, Mitch Kiper here. When I'm not reviewing fake football teams with voodoo math, I take breaks to join my pal [name redacted] on road trips and listen to Now compilation albums.

Now 7 was experienced months ago, on a trip down to the famous, known-by-all Santa Ana Observatory. The reason you're only hearing about it now is because [name redacted] fancies himself a bit of a Gandalf who can ride in whenever he damn pleases. But we all know this scrubs-wearing scrub is a Radagast at best. Amirite?!  

*Plays custom crickets rap air horn*

Anyways, we listened to Now 7 on the way to Santa Ana to see the Lonely Island in concert, and while nothing can match the musical stylings of Jack Sparrow, not to mention the opportunity to sing it in a crowd and not be judged, NOW 7 was pretty dang good. My ratings are as follows:

1. Survivor - 8

2. All for You - 7

3. Baby Come on Over - 7

4. In My Pocket - 6

5. Play - 5

6. The Call - 10

7. Playas Gon' Play - 5

8. Ride Wit Me - 8

9. Danger - 6

10. Fiesta - 4

11. Let Me Blow Your Mind - 6

12. What Would You Do? - 8

13. Don’t Let Me Be the Last to Know - 3

14. This I Promise You - 7

15. Never Had a Dream Come True - 7

16. Hanging By A Moment - 4

17. Jaded - 5

18. From My Head to My Heart - 5

19. Flavor of the Weak - 8

These total to a starter %ile of 76%, a Bench % ile of 69 (nice), a RosScore of π^i and a Grade of B+. Well done Now 7. And thank you, [name redacted], for this invigorating guest post opportunity.

Mitch Average Score: 6.26/10

The Good (cont’d): Special thanks Mitch for the input. My other follower is going to go bananas when he sees this. 

These albums are all starting to blend together. And no, it doesn’t help that I’m taking my damn time going through these. 

High points include “Survivor,” “All for You,” the delectable bhangra-sploitation of Mandy Moore’s “In My Pocket,” and “The Call” - arguably the single greatest BSB song/video combination ever. Please check out the video, I’ll place it below. Despite coming out in 2001, the lyrics “my battery is low, so you know, we’re going to a place nearby, gotta go” remain to ring true to date in the high pressure world of dating while being an internationally renowned boyband and not sleeping with literally everyone. 

^Directed by Francis Lawrence - absolute fucking legend of a video. WATCH IT

The Bad: The album doesn’t seem to peter out quite as badly as others, unless you’re Mitch in which case it DEFINITELY did that. I for one was particularly offended by Britney Spears’ “Don’t Let Me Be the Last to Know,” but it’s one of those songs that’s just so meandering and pointless that I have nothing quippy or interesting to say about it. I will post no link to it, she is awarded no points, and may god have mercy on her soul. 

Potpourri: FUCKING MYSTIKAL. DANGER! 

Song’s a red hot banger. Does it drag out about 2 minutes longer than it needs to be? Yes. Is it still culturally relevant? Just ask John Oliver or Carlos Danger. 

Guy made his rap career yelling random things. Whether it’s shake yo ass (or “shake it fast” depending on who had cool parents or not) or DANGER(!), this song will stand all tests of time. 

Takeaways: Eh it’s fine. There are good songs and okay songs and one bad song. This is hard. 

NEXT IS NOW 8 WOOOOOOOOO

Current Power Rankings:

Now 4 (7.72/10)

Now 6 (6.89/10)

Now 2 (6.67/10)

Now 1 (6.65/10)

Now 7 (6.63/10) (Mitch score = 6.26/10)

Now 5 (6.58/10)

Now 3 (6.22/10)

[sysba]

Thank you @leondaltons bestie for tagging me, i've been so bad at games lately so this time i'm not skipping! 💖

Lockscreen: just, some random theme pic from my phone's options lol don't want random people to know anything about me just because i gotta check the time in public

Homescreen (and glimpse of last song I listened to): as we all know, or well we should ALL know, it's Ted Lasso season!!!! so yeah picked the Jamie/Jules/Dani commission i got from beloved @/night-triumphantt 🥰🥺😭💕 Last song is one i cannot stop listening these days....

please listen to this and Dum Dum by Jeff Satur 🛐

Last pic: my sibling got into manga (not a twist ig lmao) and here's a pic of the latest buy djsdlksd

Tagging the last few people in my notes but as always no pressure/feel free to ignore mwah: @chargeortega / @queerbrujas / @mydemonsdrivealimo / @syfynjavall

[jametartt]

Tumblr knows that I love toxic romances but only when they're actually good<3

[playgroundsmarkings]

Kindergarten Playground Markings in Rosscor #Kindergarten #Play #Area #Designs #Rosscor

Kindergarten Playground Markings in Rosscor #Kindergarten #Play #Area #Designs #Rosscor

— Playground Markings (@playgroundmrkg) May 2, 2019

[tj-the-nonbinary-alien-blog]

Callout

@rosscores doesn't know how to drink fucking milk this nerd

[crossover-enthusiast]

This beanie is so Rosscore

[whatwewrotepodcast]

Waiting

The first time I saw her, she was sitting on the wharf, her legs crossed under her, a book propped open on her lap. She was wearing a knitted cap over her long, thick black hair, and a chunky cream scarf was wound around her neck against the cold air. I wondered how long she’d been sitting there. It seemed too cold to be reading outside. It was a strange place to sit and read. There was no beauty in the spot today. Low, grey clouds hung over the choppy, cold water, and every now and then a few icy spits of rain came splattering down. It was a damp, unpleasant sort of day, the sort of day you only ever got in the British isles. A grey sky over a grey sea, a landscape permeated by grey. I stood and watched her for a while, curious. She only moved to turn the page, flipping it over with small, delicate fingers. After a while, I shook my head and walked on, leaving her to her strange pursuits.

The next time I saw her was a watercolour day, a brief respite from the rain. A watery sun threw its warmthless light over the soaked green fields. The sky was washed out, as if all the colour had been wrung out with the rain. She was still wearing the knitted cap, but she’d traded the scarf for a battered looking hoodie. She wasn’t reading this time, just looking out over the water, a vivid slash of colour in the otherwise pale day. I was in a hurry, and didn’t linger.

The next time I saw her, curiosity got the better of me. She was lying on her stomach on the end of the wharf, heedless of the damp that must have been soaking through her clothes. Her hands were held out over the salty waves, and I had the perverse impression that she was trying to summon some creature of the deep, some malevolent water spirit to wreak revenge on her enemies. It was a fanciful notion, but something about the intense set of her features unsettled me.

“What are you doing?” I asked as I approached her. She showed no sign of surprise at my voice, as if she had expected me to speak to her. Perhaps she’d just heard my footsteps on the boards. She stretched downwards, leaning even further over the edge of the wharf until her fingertips could brush the surface of the water, as if I supplication. I resisted the urge to grab her by the back of her shirt and pull her away from the edge, lest she fall in.

“Waiting for him to come back to me.” She said as if it were the most normal thing in the world. I considered that for a moment. It would be logical to assume she meant someone on a ship – a father or brother or lover? Sailed away to fish, or fight, or travel? And yet somehow, with the way she peered so intently into the depths, I had the odd feeling that wasn’t it.

“Who?” I asked. She didn’t look up, her long dark hair nearly touching the water as she exhaled, stroking the water again.

“Oh, he doesn’t have a name. But he’ll be here, soon.” She said, and then she did turn to me, a wide smile curving her mouth, “Soon.” She repeated. Something about her expression filled me with a sharp, nervous jolt, and I found myself turning and walking away before I even knew what I was doing. I was unsettled to my very core with no idea why.

According to the newspapers, the girl – her name was Emily Rosscore – disappeared that night. No one ever saw or heard from her again. I never told anyone of the conversation I’d had with her. I was only half convinced I hadn’t imagined it. The official line was that she’d fallen in the ocean and drowned, but for some reason, I could never quite bring myself to believe it. I hoped whoever she’d been waiting for had come back for her, and swept her away from this humdrum world.

-Emma

[yourlongjumpukk]

Long Jump Pit in Rosscor | Specialists #Long #Jump #Sand #Pit...

Long Jump Pit in Rosscor | Specialists #Long #Jump #Sand #Pit #Rosscor https://t.co/q77LpxIJ73

Long Jump Pit in Rosscor | Specialists #Long #Jump #Sand #Pit #Rosscor https://t.co/q77LpxIJ73

— Long Jump UK (@longjumpukk) October 16, 2017

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[footdarts]

via Premium Inflatables