🎵, 🧸, 🌴, and 🎤?
thank u iz!!!! i wrote way too much for this whoops
🎵 Last song you listened to?
Nitrous Gas - Frightened Rabbit
(i would say dont psychoanalyse me from this but i was switching from my FR playlist back into my everything playlist only to immediately skip around and stop on two of the most miserable FR songs so. maybe you can judge me a little)
🧸 Favorite place to nap?
my bed for sure!! ha i dont usually feel comfortable sleeping anywhere else unless im sick. love getting under the duvet and curling up. id stay there forever if i could, honestly. ive got like, 5 semi decorative blankets on my bed to complete the Nest vibes. ideal.
🌴 Desert island item?
oh well you Know its a sewing item of some kind! i mean ideally id take a whole sewing kit but if the parameters are narrower than that, a pack of needles! i could figure out how to make threads and fabrics and all that but needles would probably be significantly harder! my one little luxury.
(if we are talking something that has to have no practical purpose- first of all, lame, who would i be without sewing? but i guess! my childhood teddy bear. he is such a great comfort to me in life :) )
🎤 Is there a song you know all the lyrics to?
ha well i know all the words to the aforementioned nitrous gas- id say i know at least most of the lyrics to their songs.
there are Definitely other artists i know most the lyrics to also, if ive listened to a song enough times and the lyrics are clear, i know them, but theres also no other obvious examples come to mind! probably some the amazing devil stuff, the mountain goats etc etc.
also a lotta. the stuff ive been hearing for years in the background of my life- pink floyd, meatloaf, all kinds of more 'classic rock' my parents listened too. just. sorry this is such an extensive answer but music is so important to me! remembering lyrics is one of the few things my brain actually cooperates on consistently so i know! so many lyrics even if i forget when the song isnt playing
~ 💖 ASK GAME 💖 ~
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Welcome to the great donkey contest of 2024
I must confess that I, once again, forgot the date of the yearly donkey contest, so I had to leave early (I had a restaurant reservation in another town) and have no idea what was the jury's verdict on each of these donkeys. Therefore, you are the jury. It will be heartbreaking, but I will ask you to vote at the end of the post, setting aside the known fact that all donkeys are the best donkey.
There were Poitou donkeys, Berry donkeys, Bourbonnais donkeys, Provence donkeys, Andalusian donkeys, and common donkeys who seemed to have no distinguishing features other than being acceptably donkey-shaped. I can't possibly post all my photos, so I have chosen 4 noteworthy contestants (or 3 and half, one is very small) for you to vote on. I'll add that I only stayed long enough to watch 2 donkeys demonstrate their skills, so in a spirit of fairness I will not mention anyone's job. You won't be voting based on how good they are doing their specific donkey job but on how good they are at being a donkey.
Donkey #1 — CHEWBACCA.
Chewbacca is big, and he has ears. These are his most salient characteristics. Each one of his ears looks like a separate fluffy ferret-sized mammal attached to his head, gently twitching or napping. Chewbacca's hooves are the diameter of a medium pizza and he looks very formidable but he is extremely kind. I know the most pressing question is "Can I scritch Chewbacca's ears?" and the answer is yes, but then he will immediately appoint you ear-scritcher in chief and will look very sad when you walk away to meet other donkeys.
Chewbacca's ears on their own could be enough to let him win Hairiest Donkey in any contest—but he is mixed breed, and there were purebred baudets du Poitou in attendance. Their entire identity is "the hairy one", and giving the Hairiest trophy to another donkey would result in massive spread of existentialism among Poitou donkeys.
(He is not a contestant, as I didn't have time to get a good aperçu of his personality.)
(Same for this shiny black donkey, pictured here canoodling with a Poitou lady—unfortunately I don't have photos of him in motion, but believe me when I say he was the glossiest donkey I've ever seen. When walking or trotting he shone in the sun like a freshly-polished dress shoe.)
Back to our contest.
Donkey #2 — UGOLIN.
Ugolin (who seems to go by "Glin") is a shaggy, gangly teenage boy whose main characteristic is being utterly love-starved. Left unattended, Ugolin would wander about the donkey contest, stopping in front of every child or adult he encountered, hoping someone would love him.
I was initially the only human Ugolin did not want cuddles from, because he was scared of Pandolf and seemed to think of me as his minion. Then I tied Pandolf to a tree and crouched down a few metres away from Glin, unsure if I had a chance now—and after hesitating for about 2 seconds he came over to kiss my forehead. My friend was so touched by this moment that she (somehow) got her phone to turn her photo into an impressionist painting.
"Can I scritch Glin's ears?" Yes. He is desperate for someone to pet his ears.
Donkey #3
—no, sorry, it's Ugolin again. It's very hard to get rid of him.
Donkey #3 — THE BABY.
The baby has no name. The baby has no skills. The baby is not good at anything other than being tiny enough to walk under her mum's belly. In the absence of any other qualifications she was happy to show off what is possibly the most low-effort limbo dance in the world.
"Can I scritch the baby's ears?" No. Big point against her, here. She will, however, come over if you say "awww le petit ânon <3" and let you pet her tiny nose. (More nose photos in this post if you missed it)
Donkey #ah no wait here's Ugolin again
He actually overcame his intense fear of Pandolf to come trap us in his forcefield of infinite neediness! I'm proud of him.
Donkey #4 — MYRTILLE.
Myrtille is in her mid-thirties, and did not come to the donkey fair to demonstrate any particular skills or be admired by us, but because she likes to meet new donkeys. She was not tethered to the rope and yet did not wander around to mingle with humans like other untied donkeys did; she shuffled from one end of the rope to the other like a friendly pensioner at a continental breakfast buffet, making small talk with everyone. It was hard to approach Myrtille (as a human) without feeling like a third wheel.
I don't mean to gossip, but she spent quite a while flirting with the glossy black donkey.
I love her. She's my favourite. I was not able to pet her or take a good close-up photo of her but that's okay. Myrtille is like a tempting rollercoaster at an amusement park that you are barred from by the sign that says "You must have ears THIS long to go any farther." I wish her only good things.
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now i've watched a fair amount of d&d i've started to pick up on the differences between dm style i think
like brennan IS all the bad guys. every game he dms is brennan vs the players. he makes npcs and battles that make his friends throw things at him and he smirks the whole time. he makes them tell him their worst fears and then he makes them do it. and it's awful and amazing and really funny
matt IS exandria. his characters and battles never feel written or constructed, they just feel like things that already existed in the world. it's all about verisimilitude with him, and he's amazing at it. he tends to fade into the background and let the players react to the story and it makes everything he does incredibly cinematic
aabria dms like she's just another player at the table reacting to the story, right up until someone gets lulled into a false sense of security and tries to fool around and THEN she throws a curveball by making them deal with the consequences of their choices. she's like oh you think that's funny?? then i'm about to be hilarious, bitch. and she keeps getting away with it bc she's just that good!
basically, brennan's an evil bastard, matt's the world, and aabria's the queen of consequences
or:
brennan - fuck
matt - around
aabria - find out
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Having depressing Steve Harrington Whump thoughts this sunny Sunday morning.
I usually headcanon Steve's parents as being neglectful and absent given their lack of screen presence in the show and thought about Steve grappling with this throughout his childhood.
Being left alone for days and eventually weeks at a time, starting much younger than was appropriate, but it was the era of latchkey kids and Richard and Darleen Harrington assumed Steve was capable enough to not really need watching. The house never burned down.
Their son was fine.
And Steve would be the first person to agree, to smile wanely while the migraines pounded in his head, a parting gift from Billy Hargrove and the and Russians. He was fine.
It was fine.
Until the spring of 1986 when all Hell literally broke loose.
During the last events of the Upside Down and the earthquakes that almost decimated Hawkins, the Harringtons finally come back to town, horrified to be called in from Indianapolis by the charge nurse at Hawkins General Hospital.
Their relationship does get a little better after nearly losing their only son. They don't talk about it, the lost years of quality time, but Steve has made begrudging peace with it and is happy to have them around now for family dinners and the holidays.
They are even fairly good about his relationship with Eddie once he finally comes out. Richard takes a little longer to warm up to the idea, but Darleen seems determined not to lose Steve again.
And things are fine for awhile, the four of them have found an equilibrium amongst each other. Richard busies himself with offering to help with repairs around their house as needed, the leaky sink in their guest bath or the backdoor that was never hung correctly. While Darleen is always quick to bring over a new recipe for them all to try at the next family dinner.
They don't talk about the fact that this is the most home cooking Steve has ever experienced in his 30 years of life or that he didn't know his dad even owned a screwdriver.
But it's fine.
They manage.
It's only after the adoption of their daughter that Steve begins to notice the changes in his parents in a way that makes his chest feel tight.
"I just, I don't get it," Steve says quietly to Eddie one summer day. Richard and Darleen are out in the yard with Abigail, playing in the sun. Abigail shakes a flower from the garden in Richard's face while he pretends to sneeze exaggeratedly, making Abigail break into peals of laughter.
Eddie frowns at Steve, watching as he crosses his arms tightly around himself.
"There has to be something going on, it doesn't make any sense how they're being with her," Steve bites out eventually. He lifts a trembling hand to his hair and tugs harshly at the roots.
"Okay woah woah," Eddie says slowly as he stops forward and gently coaxes Steve's hands away from his hair, "Stevie, sweetheart, I don't understand".
Eddie watches as Steve's gaze travels out the window once more to see Darleen lift their giggling baby girl above her head before lowering Abigail to pepper kisses all over her cheeks. Eddie smiles at the sight but it quickly vanishes as he looks back at Steve who is looking longingly at his mother.
"Because," Steve says, his voice catches on the growing lump in his throat, "if they were always capable of this, of being there, then why couldn't they do that for me?"
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