#township plays

[vitiateoriginator]

Birthday keroppi time B)

[pipsavedmylife]

BUT I NEVER ADDED THE POLICE STATION TO MY TOWN

[lunarianbeams]

was working solo on pit today (and also kinda on bar) and kept the timer under 1:30 for most of it 😌

[punkbarbarian]

first arc 2 session was very normal. will threatened to murder the god of chaos and death

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

""FOUND-IN" TESTIFIES TO 'PHONE BET SYSTEM," Toronto Star. March 7, 1934. Page 3. ---- Two Men and Woman Elect Jury Trial on Wager Charges ---- Facing charges of keeping a gambling establishment, Lew Kendall, 31, Vaughan Rd., Frank Burroughs, 45, Mimico, and Margaret Walker. 24, New Toronto, appeared before Magistrate Keith in county police court today. All three elected trial by jury.

The three were arrested by provincial police following raids on a New Toronto bowling alley February 27. Burroughs, Kendall and Miss Walker each face a charge of keeping a common betting house. Kendall and Burroughs face jointly two charges of recording bets under section 235 of the criminal code. Arthur Slaght, K.C., appeared for Kendall and Burroughs.

Reginald Meehan, 45, charged with being found-in, gave an address on Filmore Ave., New York city. He had given police the name of Murphy, he admitted.

"How did you happen to be there?" questioned Crown Attorney Frank Moore. "I met Kendall in the Roxy theatre on February 19. and he invited me to come out to New Toronto," answered witness. "What did you find?" "A bowling alley and a large office."

"What did you do there?" "I placed two bets and then drove home."

"Who did you place them with?" "Kendall."

"What horses?" "I'd have to see the list of horses running that day," answered Meehan.

"What happened the next day?" "The same thing as on Monday."

"And the next day?" "Same as before, except that I shot some pool."

"How did you place the bets?" questioned the crown. "I told Kendall and he spoke over a telephone."

"What kind?" asked the crown. "A French 'phone, we call them in New York," said witness.

"What tracks were your horses on?" "Hialeah and New Orleans."

Shown a racing paper, witness said he couldn't "just remember" what horses he played.

"Who did you give the money to?" "Kendall put it in his pocket."

Meehan swore that he visited the establishment on subsequent dates, "till the place was raided on Tuesday. February 27."

Woman Answered Telephone Mechan told the court that he had placed a "telephone" bet on a day he was unable to get out to the establishment.

"What number did you call?" asked Mr. Moore. Witness gave a Junction number.

"Who answered?" "A woman's voice."

"What did you do?" "I gave a series of numbers."

"Which meant that you were placing a bet?" "Yes."

"How did you know whether you had won or not?" pressed the crown.

"Kendall apparently received in- formation over the phone." said witness, adding that Kendall "announced" what he had heard.

"Did Kendall ask for a number when he called?" "No."

"Was the receiver off when he went to the phone?" "Yes."

"Did you hear Burroughs say anything?"

"He commented on the lack of betting going on among the customers," replied Meehan.

Crown Attorney Moore objected when Mr. Slaght pressed Meehan to reveal his occupation.

"Why are you here in Canada?" asked Mr. Slaght. "I'm here on a confidential matter," answered Meehan.

"What is your occupation?" "Do I have to tell that?" witness asked the court.

"He does not," ruled his worship.

"I never knew a man to be ashamed of his occupation," remarked counsel.

"Are you an investigator?" asked Mr. Slaght. "I have done investigating." said witness, adding that he "was in Canada properly."

"Are you here to get evidence of supposed wrongdoing?" queried Mr. Slaght. "On a confidential matter."

"A stool pigeon." commented counsel.

"You have no right to make that statement." decreed the court.

Meehan said he had spent five and a half years in a Washington hospital as the result of war wounds.

"Did you make reports of your activities?" asked counsel. "Yes."

"To whom?" Witness did not answer.

"How did you make out?" questioned counsel. "I lost, on the whole, a total of $180."

Taunted Armed Boy "One of the other boys told him he couldn't hit a barn door so he fired the gun off," testified Harvey Mundil, 12, when Gordon Mundil, 17, appeared on a charge of having an air gun.

"It struck me in the leg." explained witness. "It was a small cut," added the boy's mother.

Young English, fair-haired and short for his age, pleaded that he had fired the gun from a distance of 125 feet.

"I didn't know it would shoot that far, English declared.

"The parents ought to be prosecuted," commented his worship. "The old-fashioned playthings are being taken away from the youngsters of to-day, observed the crown.

English was remanded for sentence and the air gun confiscated.

Andrew Logie, 45, pleaded not guilty to a charge of drunkenness, expressing vigorously a desire "to clear himself."

"He was drunk and taking up the whole sidewalk," testified a York township police officer.

"Why do say he was drunk?" asked the court.

"He was unsteady on his feet and talking to everybody he met," said the officer.

Accused explained that he had been visiting a friend in the city and had taken a couple of drinks of beer. Questioned by the crown accused said he was living at a hostel on Sherbourne St. and receiving relief from York township.

"How long since you worked?" queried the crown. "About 18 months."

"My instructions are that you haven't worked for years and have been going on like this for a long time," said Crown Attorney Moore.

"I've been living on the money I earned in the bush in Haliburton county." answered Logie.

"What did you do on the way from the hostel to York township?" "I stopped to watch the centennial celebration at the city hall."

"Where did you get those drinks of beer?" "I won't tell because I don't want to get some poor innocent fellow into trouble."

Police produced a bottle of liquor which they alleged Logie had left on a lawn when he saw the police car. "

This liquor is dangerous stuff and it should be analyzed," stated the crown.

"I don't know anything about it," pleaded accused.

"Maybe your head is not clear." remarked the bench, remanding Logie to March 9.

[creacherkeeper]

hello bitch. it’s sleepover time. because you are fucked up and evil would you like to share what you’re most excited about in the upcoming lost sessions?? and also to steal from hollis what is bo thinking about kai at the moment 👀

hello bastard!!!!

i am very excited for a couple things. one, for the continued and new use of a few magic items on the table rn. two, for yall to learn some more about the blasting company npcs!! :o) and three, for yall to find out more about what the company is up to and annalise's plan <333

as far as bo ... i think he's just feeling so grateful for kai. like it was sooooo scary for him to admit he fucked up but like. not only did kai seek Him out because he didn't seem well, but listened and didnt judge him and comforted him and talked him through it. that just isnt something he's ever really had and with everything being so messed up and confusing both at the library and now in the feywild he's just so glad he has like. one safe thing. his safe person. but i also think he is still very scared being in the feywild and he's the most worried about kai who can be a little. impulsive <3 and bo doesn't want to smother him or make him angry but he's also really concerned kai is going to get themself in trouble without any of them necessarily knowing how to help. so. grateful. Concerned. and nervous as bo always is

[vishalinfragroup]

2BHK Flat Hingna Road Nagpur

Today Vishal Infrastructure is the talk of the town for successfully completing KANCHANGANGA a mega township comprising 1100 apartments and bungalows. Thousands of customers speaks volumes about our creation as we could provide their dream home at a very affordable price. Visit KANCHANGANGA and experience the difference.We the persons behind Vishal Infrastructure are known for commitments and ethical values. In all odds we delivered more than what was promised – security wall, security gates, pavers on roads, 24×7 water supply, garden and play area, bus stop, etc., speak about our commitment for commitment is the key word at Vishal Infrastructure. The blessings from our satisfied and happy customers inspired us to go for another creation.KANCHAGANGA – 2 is taking shape. It is very much within the city and is surrounded by reputed schools, colleges – Engineering, Medical, Dental, – banks, malls and hotels. It is one of the best destinations to live in, Welcome KANCHANGANGA -2. Investment at right time, with right people paves way to prosperity. In India, Nagpur is one of the best city to live in due to its geographical location and various other features. Imagine Nagpur when more jewels in the form of MIHAN, METRO RAIL, IIM, TCS and other prominent I,T, Industries, Tiger Capital, Tourism, SEZ are studded to its crown. We with same commitment and ethical values, welcomes you KANCHANGANGA family.

[sadlazzle]

‘it’s probably not boss fog, i don’t need to go and cash in my souls’ i say, as i enter the boss fog, immediately getting my ass handed to me

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Down Home 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as non/dubcon, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: The world's most famous heroes walk into a small town diner and change your life.

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers

Note: Because of this.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3

Love you all to Jupiter and back. Take care. 💖

It’s a slow day. Every day is slow out in Tumble Down. The township’s name tells the whole story. Everything there is in decline. It’s hard to imagine there was ever a time when the people weren’t tiny and forgotten in the hubbub of the bigger world. Since the mines closed and the canning factory was outsourced, it feels even smaller. 

Smaller isn’t so bad. It’s simpler. You all know each other’s names and faces. You say hi and how are you and do what needs to be done. Simple is, simple as. 

You here there isn’t much to do in most small towns. Not for fun or for work. You’re one of the lucky ones. You got a job down at the diner in your sophomore year. It helped pay for your daddy’s new engine and since then, it keeps you all afloat in the rising waters of disparity as they close in on Tumble Down. 

You hum to the old radio that sits on the shelf you make sure to dust. The speakers crackle from time to time and the signal gets wonky in storm season, but the music’s never bad. It’s the classic stuff that always played in your mother’s kitchen. 

You wipe down another table. Not because it needs it, just because it’s something to do. The day has been long and listless. Even the breakfast rush was lower than usual. 

Darnell, the cook, whistles along from the back. Everyone knows he isn’t as mean as he looks. He just likes his space. 

As you go back to the counter and lean on it, staring at the ticking clock, a roar cuts through the distance. You blink and look up, narrowing your eyes at the dusty country road outside. Wind rustles through the tall wheat in the field opposite and the noise rumbles closer and closer. 

A man pulls in a motorbike. He’s going so fast that he has to circle the gravel lot before he can slow down. It’s not Lenny and his prized Harley but another man on a more modern-looking mount. Not far behind, another motorcycle zips through and the riders straddle their bikes as the survey the restaurant. 

You narrow your eyes. You probably need glasses but you make do. The last time you got your eyes checked, you didn’t have enough for the frames. 

The one man wears blue and red, an odd helmet on his head. Not a helmet at all but a sort of mask. The other man has dark hair to his chin and a beard to match. He’s all in black but his left arm shines with gold ripples. Not a sleeve, an arm, made of metal. 

“Oh my lord,” you murmur in shock, “Darnell!” You holler over your shoulder, “you’re not gonna believe this.” You turn to the window as he pokes his head around, “not sure I do myself. Tell me my eyes aren’t lyin’.” 

He looks above your head, an easy task for the mammoth cook. He hums and swirls around his spatula. “Thems those boys on the news. The one that was in the old war. Grandad’s battle.” 

“I’m not going crazy with boredom?” You bubble. 

He snorts. It’s as close to a laugh as you get from him. You spin back and hurry around the counter to grab a pair of menus. Still, you don’t want to seem too eager. You put down the menus and fiddle with a napkin holder instead. 

The bell over the door jingles and swipe up the menus and turn. You really can’t believe it’s them. Yet, as Captain America removes his cowl, you’re certain. They look just like they do on the TV. Even with your sight, you can tell. 

“Hello, fellas, how are you doin’ today?” 

The dark-haired one, the Winter Soldier, glances at the other, his cheek dimpling, “well... we’re... uh...” 

“We’re doing great,” Steve Rogers answers brightly. “Starving. You guys serve bacon? My buddy’s dying for some.” 

“Um, yes, sirs, yes. Can I sit ya down?” You ask, hugging the menus closer. 

“Please,” the Captain accepts as the other man stays silent and pensive, his eyes wandering down to the coffee stain on your apron. 

“Just here,” you sweep away and wave them on with you. You stop beside the nicest booth and lay down a menu on each side, “have a seat.” 

They do just as you bid. The blond puts his cowl on the table and unhooks the shield from his back to lay on the far end of the seat. He smooths back the sweaty strands of hair as his companion stretches his metal fingers. You sway nervously by the table, twitching as you remind yourself how to do your job. 

“Well, can I get ya started with coffee? You look beat from the road.” You beam with the smile Mr. Welk says could outshine the sun. 

“Not just the road,” the dark-haired one mutters as he rolls his shoulder. The one that connects to his real arm. “I’ll take one, please.” 

“Can I get an orange juice, please,” the Captain asks. 

“Course ya can. I’ll be right back. You have a look at the specials and give it a think,” you bounce and spin around. 

You go to pour the orange juice and a cup of black coffee. Darnell lingers by the window. He only ever really appears to put a plate up but he watches the new arrivals. 

You bring their drinks and step back, clasping your hands behind you. 

“Did ya need cream or sugar for your coffee, sir?” You ask. 

“Black’s fine,” he assures. 

“No need for the sirs. Steve, Bucky,” Captain America insists, “we’re off duty.” 

“Right, sorry about that, ssss...Steve,” you correct yourself. “You need some more time?” 

“Think I’m decided,” Bucky intones, “what about you?” 

“Set,” Steve confirms, “I’ll have the sunny side up with toast and sausage. Can I get some fruit on the side as well, please?” 

He hands over the menu and you take it as you hold your smile. Your cheeks ache. Not because you have to force it but because you can’t stop. This is the most exciting thing to happen in Tumble Down ever. If Darnell wasn’t there, no one would believe you. 

“Overeasy, bacon, extra bacon too, and some french toast, and uh... home fries.” Bucky offers up the second menu, “please and thank you.” 

“Alrighty,” you preen, “I’ll put your order in.” 

“Got it,” Darnell growls over the empty diner. 

“He’s got good hearing,” you giggle nervously as you look between the men. “Ummmm, sorry, I’ll leave ya be.” 

“You’re not bothering,” Steve assures. “I can see you’re dying to ask.” 

He gives a gentle smile. 

“Nah, oh, gosh. I’m sure ya get it all the time. I don’t wanna be one of those,” you put your hands up. “Really, you all look like you could use the peace and quiet.” 

“Well, actually, I’ve been stuck with this meathead for days,” Bucky scoffs, “so please, I’d love to hear someone else’s voice.” 

You laugh again. They’re funnier than you expect. They always look so serious on the TV. 

“What... what are y’all doing here in Tumble Down? It’s a bit far from... anywhere.” You ask sheepishly. 

“Tumble Down? Is that what it’s called?” Steve scratches his neck above his stained collar. “Well, we couldn’t get a signal so we’ve just been riding through. Saw the sign down the way and figured we’d get a bite.” 

“He’s lying. He was falling asleep on his bike,” Bucky teases. 

“Sure,” Steve shakes his head. “Only ‘cause I’m tired of you.” 

You giggle again, “I thought y’all were friends.” 

“Friends, partners, cursed with each other, have your pick,” Bucky snorts. 

“He’s playing,” Steve says. “Look, we’re boring. Despite what you think. We’re a couple of old men bickering with each other. What about you? What about Tumble Down?” 

“Ah, nothing really, sir. Steve,” you squeeze the menus tight at the edges. “Nothing going on since the coal law and that. Everyone’s all but run out. All but us.” 

“Just you? Your family?” Steve wonders. 

“Jesus, Steve, nosy much?” Bucky says over the brim of his mug. 

“Sorry. He’s right. Like I said. Crotchety old man. I talk to the pigeons.” 

You laugh again, “oh my, you are a hoot!” You slap your thigh emphatically, “I’m still my ma and pa. It’s just the three of us. They need help with the animals and that.” 

“Animals?” Steve wonders, his posture shifting towards you. 

“Chickens, cows. They got a farm. Was my grandpa’s. And his ma kept it going after he didn’t come home from... well, you’d know more about that time than me, I think.” You give a forlorn look to the floor. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry about your grandfather. Great grandfather,” he corrects himself. 

“Lotta good men gone,” Bucky mulls grimly. 

“Yeah, my great granny said as much. I wouldn’t know though, but I heard the stories,” you dare to look at them again. “Sorry to bring up the bad memories.” 

“Nah,” Bucky waves you off casually. “I got this nifty arm outta it.” 

“And I got a shield so, you know, not all losses,” Steve chuckles. 

“I s’pose,” you agree. “I’m gonna check on that food for ya. You good with your coffee?” 

Bucky raises the mug, “delicious.” 

You nod and turn with a swish of your skirt. You go up to the window and look over the ledge. “How’s it going, Darnell?” 

“Going. I’m happy it ain’t Raylene here. She’s got a mouth on her, don’t she? Them sort don’t deserve that trouble,” he tisks. 

“They’re nice. And Raylene is too. She’s just... Raylene,” you say, “can I help with anything?” 

“I don’t wanna be rude but I’m tired of tellin’ ya to stay outta my kitchen. You know the grill likes to spit,” he shakes his head. “You go, I’ll let ya know when it’s ready.” 

“Alright,” you back away and turn back. 

Steve and Bucky lean over the table, their voices low as they chat. As you move around behind the counter, they both sit up and the former clears his throat. You smile as you take the cloth from your apron pocket and wipe the already clean counter. 

As the radio buzzes, you hum without thinking. Stevie Ray Vaughan’s smoky voice mingles with the emotion plucked through electric strings. Your dad’s a big fan. He has old tapes with concerts on them and even went to one himself. 

The bell rings and you nearly jump out of your shoes. You turn and scoop up the plates as you thank Darnell. He grumbles that he’s going out to have a smoke; his code for having a Tootsie Pop by the backdoor. 

You bring the meals over to the table and set them down before the men. Their gazes make you sweat. It’s all a little more intense with no one else there. 

“Thank you,” Steve says and Bucky echoes him. 

“Not at all. Anything else? Water? Ketchup?” 

“It all looks great as is,” Steve says, “you got a nice voice.” 

“Oh, really? Ha, I was just humming out of tune. Sorry if I was too loud.” 

“Not at all,” Bucky picks up his fork as he leans forward. He tilts his head. “You know this one?” 

“Sure do. It’s Fleetwood Mac,” you answer. “One my all times.” 

He grins and nods as he looks at Steve. Steve watches you with a smile of his own. 

“Do you sing?” He asks. 

“Me? Only in my shower or to the chickens. They usually hide in the henhouse then.” You tinkle with laughter. 

“Ah,” Steve nods. 

“But if... if ya really wanna suffer, I could try it,” you smile, “but uh, you know, Stevie Nicks, she’s one of a kind.” 

“I’ve had worse,” Steve says. 

You look between him and Bucky. You chew your lip and think. You follow the song as you try to recognise which verse it is. You squint and perk up as you catch your place. 

“You just let me know when you’ve had enough,” you say before you start. Not only can you tell your pa that you met the super soldiers, you can tell him you sang for them. It’ll be a nice bit of excitement for the dinner table. 

[enviedear]

Okay but Billy with an innocent reader>>>>>>>> LIKE HES SO PROTECTIVE OML

billy + innocent!reader

stop i love this. this should be an au hell i may just write more for it

tw— for use of a gun, toothrotting fluff

request

"go ahead, honey. pull the trigger." billy's voice is sweet against your ear.

your face morphs into a coy apprehension, "and you're sure this won't send me flying on my rear?"

he chuckles, straightening your arms a bit, "m'right here, i won't let that happen."

your eyes focus in on the three rusty cans in the distance, set atop a dry rotting log. you know there's no way you're going to hit them all. you'd be lucky to hit one.

but billy is adamant in both that you need to learn how to shoot, and that you’ll be a ‘natural’. his driving objective, however, being that since he can't be with you from sun up to sun down, he'll have to settle with teaching you how to fend for yourself.

it's not unlike him to behave this way. in the months you've known the gunslinger, you've come to find that his urge to protect you is enormous.

his protection isn't reserved just against the infamous wild men of the west, but rather, anything and anyone. if it could possibly do you harm, physically or mentally, he's there to guard and defend.

like a knight out of the princess tales your mother used to tell you.

you let out a harsh breath before your finger begins to press into the trigger. too soft at first, the metal remains in its' spot, you muster up all your courage and pull the trigger. your eyes are screwed shut as the bullet whistles away, and you quickly turn into billy.

his arms ensnare you, wrapping you tight, "what're you hidin' for? you hit it dead center, sweetheart!"

you lift your head, staring unabashedly into his blue eyes, "did i really?"

he hums, using his dominant hand to steer your gaze away from him and toward the target. sure enough, the can on the left side has a small hole right in its middle.

billy chuckles, his chest rumbling against your back, "told you, my girl's a natural."

you can't help but grin, the tension releasing from your shoulders, "or i've got a good teacher." you tease.

he gives you a squeeze before letting go, gesturing toward the cans, "c'mon, let's see if you can do it again."

emboldened by your first success, you square your shoulders and take aim. this time, you focus a bit more, remembering the sensation of the recoil and trying to replicate it. the shot rings out, and you open your eyes to find another can hit.

billy lightly claps you on the back, "see? just like that, sweetheart."

as you reload, you can't help but appreciate the way the afternoon sun plays on his weathered hat, casting thin rays upon his lips, "m’not as hopeless as i thought."

he grins, a mischievous glint in his eyes, "do i e’ver lie to you?”

you ignore his sly remark, focusing back in on your targets. with newfound confidence, you continue to practice, the rhythmic sound of gunshots filling the air. as the sun begins its descent, casting a warm glow over the landscape.

the sounds of gunfire continue, each shot feeling more controlled and confident than the last. with every successful hit, billy's pride in your progress shines through his loving stare. he stands by your side, offering guidance and encouragement, a quiet guardian in the backdrop of your learning.

as the sun dips even lower, casting a dim hue over the landscape, you catch a glimpse of billy watching you with a softness in his eyes. he often got this way, completely lost in you. especially when you're doing things his way— not in the way you'd normally feel inclined. you're rather tame and harmless in comparison to billy, the entire west, really.

growing up away from the fast-growing townships and travelers, when you met billy he completely flipped your world upside down. you gave him all your firsts, shooting his pistol only adds to the expansive list of firsts you've given him.

you go to take aim again, eyes closing as you shoot, still too frightened to keep them open— your bullet flies past your targets, missing entirely. you've grown used to the sound of a hit and when you open your eyes to find the miss, you groan.

billy's safeguarding nature becomes even more apparent as you meet his winsome eyes, his gaze lingers on you, subtle worry etched on his features.

he knows you're inexperienced, a stark contrast to the harsh realities of the world he's accustomed to. he knows it isn't, but if this were a shootout, that big of a miss would have cost you your life.

the mere thought of you in that situation is something he's not willing to entertain.

"you're doing mighty fine, sweetheart," he reassures, a tenderness in his voice that speaks volumes, "but remember, there's more to this than cans and targets. gotta keep those pretty eyes of yours open, alright?"

you nod, appreciating his concern and the earnest care he extends. it dawns on you that learning to shoot isn't just a practical skill— it's a testament to the depth of billy's affection. he's arming you with more than just a handgun— he's giving you a piece of his own resilience and determination.

as the sun sets, casting long shadows across the landscape, you take a moment to stand side by side with billy, appreciating the warmth of his presence. the sky paints hues of orange and pink, a picturesque backdrop to the bond that's been forged between you.

"thanks, billy," you say, sincerity lacing your words. "for teaching me, for being patient."

he smiles, a softness in his expression that contrasts with the rugged exterior, "my pleasure, sweetheart. always want you to be able to take care of yourself."

with the last rays of sunlight fading, you holster the gun, feeling a newfound sense of empowerment. billy wraps an arm around your shoulders, guiding you back towards the homestead. as you walk together, the echoes of gunshots in the ears serve as a reminder that you're not just learning to shoot— you're learning to navigate billy's world, and with his protection, you're sure you'll do just fine.

—reblog and like if you enjoyed, let ur local writer know you like her work !

[thelesbiancitizen]

something that is a big concern to me is women's issues in rural areas. I live in a rural area. and it's not even that rural. there are many communities near me that are very very small, less than 1000, less than 500. and how do these women get help if they need it? If you live on an island with less than 50 people on it, and your husband is beating on you every night, and everyone in town loves him, and people know what's happening but are looking away, what do you do? If you're pregnant, and the nearest hospital with an OB/GYN is more than a few hours away from you? If you are raped? If you need an abortion? If you just need emotional support from other women? I don't even know what issues these women face. but I so worry about them. I so worry about girls growing up in these places, so vulnerable to exploitation, if they went missing, who would notice or care? Who could even do anything about it? Lots of feminist research and activism is based around women living in cities or near cities. But what about women in villages and rural townships? I don't know but I need to do something to make sure they are okay.

A woman was shot in the head by her ex-husband in my town not too long ago. And it honestly barely made the news and nobody ever talked about what it all meant. And outside here, people really idealize villages and small town life and island life and act like it's so beautiful and idyllic. And I just shudder to think of the secrets these places are hiding. People love to sensationalize and romanticize places like this and it's like. People really live here and there are women here and they really have very few choices and very limited freedom. When you live in a small town, everyone knows you and you are being watched all the time. There is no anonymity like in a city or even a suburb. You have to play the part you're born into or else. And each little community is so peculiar and particular that you can't generalize about the dynamics; they're all a bit different. I don't know what to do! All the women here have such sadness on their faces. They are overburdened and I see it in the way they walk and hear it in their voices. I could leave, easily. I have had several opportunities to leave. But I just can't. I am always drawn back. This is my home. I want to help, I want to help. But what can I do?

[schluttforschlatt]

Bartender Reader x Patron Schlatt

You’ve had your fair share of working in shitty dive bars, having been in both big cities and small towns

The patrons were always predictable, their life stories printed in the creases around their eyes and mouth

The bigger cities attracted a younger crowd, while the smaller townships collected middle aged farm hands and dock workers

You were currently working two part time jobs: waiting tables at a family owned diner in the morning, and bartending at a sleepy tavern in the evenings

You had your regulars at both establishments, but the bar goers definitely tipped better than the diner guests

Of course there were sleezeballs trying to feel you up at the bar, but you were desperate to make rent and didn’t mind an extra $30 for a light tap on the ass; men are simple creatures after all and you were able to brush it off by the time you were clocking out

However, every Friday night you noticed a solitary young man, gruff expression and wild facial hair with uncharacteristically soft eyes, tucked away in a booth occasionally sharing banter with other bar crawlers

You’d heard stories of him tipping measly dollars to your coworkers, the other bar tenders always disappointed after he would close out his tab and walk out the door

But when it was you cashing him out, he’d slide you a crisp $50 with a subtle wink, and you’d blush whispering a “thank you” every time

This would go on for a few months, him slipping you $100s closer to holidays. The first time, you pleaded with him to keep the money and use it for his own needs and care, but he smiled down at you and shook his head, muttering “you’re too sweet for this place, doll. Tips all yours.”

You came to eventually know him as Jay, who would slink in and order a top shelf whiskey or bourbon, then seat himself in a booth in the far corner of the bar. He would only speak when it came time to pay his tab, unless it was you

He would ask you about your life, what you were studying and why you were passionate about it. He’d ask about your hobbies and interests, offering input if it was something he was familiar with. And of course, he loved it when you’d sit in the booth across from him, scrolling through pictures of your cats at home.

On one occasion, you’d had an actually deep conversation about working two jobs and studying, struggling to find a balance between the three while maintaining a social life and personal interests

You’d become acquaintances with him, and just as you opened up to him, he would open up to you, sharing pictures of his own cats (“I don’t trust someone who doesn’t like cats, there’s just something untrustworthy about it.” He’d say to you one night) and his travels across the states and abroad

One night in particular, he asked about a tattoo you had on your left forearm. You said it was from your favorite video game, which launched the two of you into a passionate conversation about console vs PC, then building your own PCs and rigs

He pulled out his phone and opened the Steam app, eagerly asking to add you as a friend with the possibility of playing together, which you happily obliged

He tipped you $250 that night, his bill originally only $45. That was the largest tip you’d received. There was no physical contact made, nor did he try to feel you up at any point, unlike other reoccurring patrons

The next time he sauntered in, he gave you a shy wave before ordering a whiskey neat, then retiring to the same dim booth. You’d taken notice of his messy hair, the usual Yankees cap missing this evening, and the stressed look on his face

On your break you made your routine appearance at the booth, scooting in with a warm smile. His eyes seemed distant this time, almost anxious. You opened the conversation joking about his missing hat, to which he let out a soft chuckle and cracked a half smile. He indulged about his current woes, how his job was weighing on him and he felt like he was hitting a wall

This was the first time you’d asked about what he did for a living, and suddenly the larger than average tips made sense.

He prattled on about running multiple successful YouTube channels on top of owning several smaller business ventures. He opened up about the podcasts he was apart of, and explained how Patreon patrons were the backbone of his multiple communities. It was endearing to see someone young, close in age to you, express the realities of burnout despite loving your craft

As your lunch conversation came to an end, you boldly asked for his number, if anything just to continue the discussion after your shift

However, he’d do you one better and invite you over to his place after your shift to talk shit about life and play old Nintendo games. He’d still given you his number, of course, but he’d also filled out his contact information with his street address, email, and had taken a silly selfie for the contact photo and poster

As you clocked out that night, he waited for you outside the entrance, scrolling through Reddit

You told him you couldn’t stay too late, as you worked your second (well, first, technically) job in the morning and needed at least a good nap before you’d have to get ready

He was more than happy to offer for you to stay the night at his place, and so you two made the walk to your apartment (you said you were fine to go by yourself, but he insisted on making sure you got to your destinations safe and sound). You opened up the door and invited him in, introducing him to your three cats and leaving them in the small living room while you packed an overnight bag. You could hear needy meows through the hall of your youngest cat, begging this new kind stranger for treats. Once she started, the other two kitties joined in, a chorus of

“I don’t know where your mama keeps them! But if I find them you’ll all get some!” You’d heard him whisper yell, smiling at the thought of this new found friend bonding with the most important things in your life

Once your bag was packed, you locked your bedroom door and waltzed into the cramped kitchen, pulling out a bag of cat treats and handing them to Jay

“I spoil them so give them each a small handful,” you smiled at him, handing the bag over. “But be careful of Mellie, she’ll bit a finger for a treat.” He chuckled and offered a smile back, eyes brighter now than they were at the start of the night

After getting the cats to settle down, you’d scuttle down the stairs of your apartment, and begin your trek to Jay’s

Coincidentally, he only lived a few blocks away, no more than a 15 minute walk. It was brisk outside, and you were hoping the pajama shorts you packed would keep you warm through the night

Once arriving at his condo, he unlocked the door and let you in. His own cats came skittering to the front door, immediately begging you, now the stranger to these cats, for treats of their own

“Guys, leave our guest alone, I know your feeders went off less than an hour ago,” he’d bent down to pet one of his cats, an orange one you recognized as Jambo, before throwing a mouse toy into the hallway, both cats running after it

“Did you want to change? The bathroom is down that hall to the left,” he informed, pointing you in the direction. “I’m gonna get the Wii set up in the living room, so take your time, Doll.” That was a pet name he’d use for you often, and you never thought anything of it, only that he was a nice guy who essentially paid for your groceries and gas in his tips

You smiled and nodded, taking off for the bathroom while he took off his jacket, draping it over the arm of the loveseat

It was a nice condo, you thought, colors fitting together charmingly. Blues and browns accented the walls, along with framed awards and trophies. It wasn’t braggadocious, you thought, but rather cute

You found the bathroom, which was also put together nicely, and began your nightly routine. Once you were changed out of your sticky uniform and with a washed face, you made your way to the living room, socked feet making gentle padding sounds to announce your presence. He turns and smiles at you, a gleam in his eye

“Here, lemme put your bag in my room,” he offers with an extended hand, and you gladly let him store it for later

You plop down on the couch, picking up a Wiimote and securing the wrist strap. You hear heavy steps from behind before a “You really use the wrist strap on these things? Pft-“ he joins you on the couch, you, player two, on the right side, and he, obviously player one, on the right

“Your place looks nice, and I don’t have the money to buy you a new TV if I go too hard in Wii Sports,” you quip back, earning a small laugh from the larger man

He continues to set up Mario Kart, turning back to see if you approve of his choice

“Ain’t worried ‘bout the TV, Doll,” you blush at the use of the pet name again. “Only worried about kicking your ass in Moo Moo Circut.”

It wouldn’t be long until both of you were shit talking each other, subconsciously scooting closer to each other, shrieks and laughs echoing through the room

Jambo and [Redacted] had found their places next to you and Jay, and something about this made you feel at ease, allowing you to loosen up a bit and sink into the comfort of his couch

A few hours had passed, and a handful of circuits had been played before you sheepishly asked for a blanket. He obliged, standing up to grab a giant plush blanket, draping it over your lap, then pulling the slack over his own after sitting back down. He’d throw a sheepish grin your direction after knocking your knees together

He’d subconsciously reach over and rub the spot under the blanket, causing you to gasp at the contact of his cold hand. He’d apologize and withdraw digits, refocusing on the TV screen, but you could see a faint blush begun to crawl up his ears

Another hour or so had passed before you were ready to head to bed, your need for sleep making its presence by intense yawns dragging themselves out in quick succession to one another, then contagiously spreading to Jay

Standing up from the couch and stretching, you’d follow behind the large man, with the cats following behind you, to a decently sized bedroom with a neatly made bed

“Beds all yours, I’ll take the futon,” he’d declare, causing you to blush, and insist he take the bed, and you the futon, but he’d stand firm on his decision. “‘S probably gonna be the only time you’ll sleep on a bed this nice, when you come over, y’know?” The smirk on his face told you everything you needed to know, so you’d nod and climb into the California King, feeling like the distance to himself on the futon was several zip codes away

The bed was indeed comfortable, but you tossed and turned because of how unbelievably cold the room was, the sheets feeling like blankets of ice and snow

Desperate to feel warmth you decided to slink over to the man on the futon, placing a freezing hand on the back of his neck. He jumped at the contact, a string of expletives leaving his mouth, before looking at you with concerned eyes. You bluntly said you were cold, and wanted him to either turn the AC off and give you a few more blankets, or join you. In the bed. The one bed. He gave a dopey grin

“All you had to do was ask, Toots.” And he came, pulling him onto the bed with him. And God, that was the best sleep you’ve ever had

~ lmk if anyone wants like an actual fic of this bc I fear I have motivation ~

[d20-lesbian]

AFTER AN OVERWHELMING WAVE OF SUPPORT AND ENCOURAGEMENT, I'VE DECIDED TO POST THE WILL WOOD ESSAY!!!! it's below the break !!!!

I would like to really quickly state though that this essay is my property, I put a lot of time and effort into this, so please don't claim it as your own !!!! thank you <33

I will be analysing Will Wood’s song ‘Suburbia Overture / Greetings from Marybell Township! / (Vampire) Culture / Love Me, Normally’. which, for simplicity, most fans refer to as simply ‘Suburbia Overture’. This song is the first on his first solo album entitled ‘The Normal Album’, which came out in July 2020.

This song, in the most general possible terms, is a criticism of modern suburban life, how it is advertised as “the perfect life”, and how this advertising is incredibly false unless you fit the picture perfect standard that these facets of society seem to require.

The song itself is split up into 3 distinct sections, "Greetings from The Marybell Township!", “(Vampire) Culture” and “Love Me, Normally”. I'll be tackling each section one at a time in order to properly break down what each means, what different analogies they use, how they all relate to each other and the intended end result of the song and the message it intends to convey.

Let's begin with 'Greetings from The Marybell Township!'.

This section of the song uses a lot of analogies that compare suburban life to a warzone, the first line of this section being “white picket fences, barbed wire and trenches”. This section also focuses heavily on the concept of the nuclear family, and it often literalises the term and uses analogies based around radiation and nuclear warfare. Such analogies can be found in lines such as “the snap crackle pop of the Geiger, camouflage billboards for lead lined Brookes Brothers”. Now there's a couple of terms that require definitions in this line. The first of course being “the Geiger”. A Geiger counter, which is what this lyric is referring to, is a tool used to measure levels of harmful radiation. This, paired with the concept of billboards advertising “lead-lined Brookes Brothers” when lead is a material used to deflect radiation, and the knowledge that ‘Brookes Brothers’ is an American vintage style clothing brand, this line really paints a picture of a seemingly post apocalyptic/post nuclear war but still consumerist and capitalistic suburban society. The last line in that verse is “buy now or die”, which ties back to the concept of safety equipment being advertised on billboards, while residents of this town have no choice but to buy the products. This all relates back to the hyperconsumerism that plagues our society, and runs particularly rampant in middle to upper middle class neighbourhoods. The very same neighbourhoods that are often referred to as “suburban”

In the second verse of this section there are a lot of hard hitting lyrics that to me really show that this perfect idealised life is far from perfect or even good, so we will work through them one by one because I feel that they all deserve proper analysis.

The first line that i want to point out from that verse is the line “takes a village to fake a whole culture” which is clearly a rip off of the phrase “it takes a village [to raise a child]” but it also references the fact that usually suburban towns are incredibly monotonous in both residents and architecture, and so it takes the collective effort of the entire population of the town to pretend that there is an actual culture to it.

The next few lines I'll speak on all come in quick succession of one another, essentially blending them into one line.

“Your ear to the playground, your eye on the ball, your head in the gutter, your brains on the wall.”

So let's break these down. This line is easily split into 4 distinct phrases, and all of these phrases have a few things in common, which I will point out later.

“Your ear to the playground” is a play on the phrase “ear to the ground” which essentially means that the person with their ‘ear to the ground’ is attempting to carefully gather intel about something. Someone having their ear to the playground simply reinforces the idea of this suburban “paradise” being. Not as paradise-y as one would hope, seeing as the people who use playgrounds most of all are children, so this line is demonstrating that the picture perfect life that this suburban town offers is actually corrupting children so young that they are still on the playground.

The next phrase is “your eye on the ball” isn't a play on anything and is in fact in itself a common phrase. To have your eye on the ball means to be entirely focused in and paying attention to something, and not allowing anything to divert your attention. Given the last line this line very well could be another reference to the corruption of the youth and the idea that their every day play has already been tainted with the hostilities of modern life usually reserved for adults.

Following this is another well known saying “your head in the gutter” which, as most know, someone whos head is ‘in the gutter’ is someone who will see some sort of innuendo or otherwise vulgar/inappropriate meaning in something that was intended to be entirely innocent, leading to others in the interaction telling the perpetrator to ‘get [their] mind out of the gutter’

And finally, in my opinion the most hard hitting phrase in this set, “your brains on the wall” which is clearly in reference to the notion of ending your own life with a shot to the head, which would lead to, well, brains being on the wall. These last 2 phrases come in stark contrast to the seemingly picture perfect life that suburban towns offer and advertise, the concepts of suicide and perversion are not concepts one expects to see or hear when imagining this idealised form of life.

There is one main similarity in each of the 4 phrases, that being that each phrase has some body part being on something else, your ear to the playground, your eye on the ball, your head in the gutter, your brains on the wall. This similarity almost offers a body horror aspect to the song, which when paired with the concept that this is written about a seemingly post nuclear apocalyptic town presents an interesting idea of possible mutation, but i'll be the first to admit that may be a little far fetched. However that's not the only similarity that these 4 phrases share, another is the fact that they are all directly, or only slightly modified versions of already well known phrases, a similarity that is found in many lines over this entire song, through all 3 sections.

I want to analyse a few more lines before we move on to the second section of the song.

This next line comes directly after the previously analysed line, and it goes “home is where the heart is, you ain't homeless, but you’re heartless”

Sticking with the theme of using already existing and commonly used phrases, “home is where the heart is'' is once again a phrase that you could likely find as a cross stitch hung up on the wall of any of the homogenous houses you could likely find in this idealised suburbia. But what Wood is saying in this line is that home is where the heart is, and that while people in this town may not be homeless, they are certainly heartless, meaning that they in fact don't have homes. They have houses. Rows upon rows of houses that all look the exact same in the horrifying monotony that is suburban living.

Following this line is the lyric “it's the safest on the market, but you still gotta watch where you park it”. These lines seem to be in reference to buying a car. The car being the "safest on the market" is likely in reference to the fact that it may have a lot of safety features. But this is immediately negated by the fact that you “still gotta watch where you park it” meaning that the safety features could be a reason that the car gets stolen, rendering all the safety that those features offered useless because in the end it made the car and the owner less safe.

In the third verse of this section, you immediately hear the line “so give me your half-life crisis” which partially is a play on the term ‘mid life crisis’ wherein which one realises that they may have wasted their life up till that point and they're already halfway through, but the use of the term “half-life” instead of ‘mid-life’ is very intentional, as the term “half-life” can also be used to refer to the half-life of an isotope, which is the amount of time that isotope takes to lose half of its radiation, which ties back into the theme of radiation that we see mentioned a lot in this section.

Later in the same verse is the line “if it's true that a snowflake only matters in a blizzard”, which is interesting in a few ways, first, it brings up the idea of a singular individual means nothing on their own and that they only matter when they’re part of something larger or a larger group, but i also think that the use of the terms “snowflake” and “blizzard” instead of something like ‘raindrop’ and ‘storm’ is very intentional in the fact that snowflakes are known for being individual, none are alike, every single one is different. So saying that a snowflake doesn't matter unless it's in a blizzard is yet another hit at individuality, essentially implying that in this town individuality means nothing and is essentially rendered useless.

The final line in this verse is “everybody's all up in my-” repeated thrice, and on the third time the sentence is finished to say “everybody’s all up in my business” and before the word “business” can be finished its overlapped with the beginning of the chorus, the first word of which is a very loud “SUBURBIAAAA!”. I believe this is reminiscent of the fact that in towns like this, everyone cares so much about what everyone else is doing, they’re all so interested in everyone else's business, and i think that sentiment being stated and cut off by the word “Suburbia” is essentially saying that ‘this is the norm, this is just Suburbia, this is how it works around here.’

After the final chorus of this section, in the final verse, you'll find the line “chameleon peacocks are talk of the town” which particularly interests me because if you know anything about chameleons or peacocks you’d find that they seem incredibly different as animals. Chameleons blend into their environment in order to stay safe, whereas peacocks are known for parading around bright colours to make themselves look better, but if you think about it the term “chameleon peacock” actually makes a lot of sense, a person who blends into their surroundings in order to make themselves look good. This sentiment seems to perfectly describe the homogeneity of the people that live in these perfect towns, they're all the same, they blend in with one another in order to make themselves look good, or perfect.

Another line heard shortly afterwards is the phrase “he cums radiation”, rather vulgar, I grant you, but it's important because it is yet another literalisation of the phrase ‘nuclear family’. It could also be a reference to the general toxicity of this societal norm.

The final line in this section of the song is “the dog bites the postman, as basement eyes dream of a night at the drive-in, with an AR-15”. Which is another use of juxtaposition, intended to cause a kind of whiplash in the listener and reinforce the idea that while in this place there is scenarios that would happen in a hollywood movie esque picture perfect neighbourhood, like the dog biting the postman, there's also horrors that lurk below the surface. (although clearly not TOO far below.)

Now let’s move on to the second part, ‘(Vampire) Culture’.

If you listen to the song, you’ll immediately be able to recognise where 'Greetings from The Marybell Township!' ends and ‘(Vampire) Culture’ begins, due to the insane juxtaposition between the two. Where 'Greetings from The Marybell Township!' is soft and sort of reminiscent of the 1950’s, ‘(Vampire) Culture’ is loud, jarring and grotesque, complemented with much raspier and strained sounding vocals compared to 'Greetings from The Marybell Township!' ’s soft and melodic ones. The tone for this section of the song is immediately set with much more graphic lyrics, the very first line of this section (after the opening scream) is “i dropped my eyeballs in the bonfire, we fucked on a bed of nails” which absolutely sets the scene for how different this section will be to the previous.

This song immediately jumps into using cannibalism as a metaphor, with the first line after the jump start opener being “I caught kuru from your sister, and I'm laughing in jail”. While this line is written to sound like the concept of catching an STD from an act of adultery, Kuru is actually a disease only found in human brain tissue, meaning that you can only contract this disease by eating a human brain, and what's one of the symptoms for this disease? Uncontrollable laughter.

This use of cannibalism as a metaphor is used again immediately after in the line “smell those screaming teenage sweetbreads on that 4th of July grill”, ‘sweetbread’ is the term used to refer to the pancreas and thymus gland of an animal, usually a lamb, but in this particular case it is in reference to the human teenagers that supposedly lived in The Marybell Township, or a least they did before they were dissected, cooked and served at a neighbourhood 4th of July barbeque hosted by the same people that were once referred to as their neighbours.

This line adds an interesting level of patriotism to the song and criticism of how America utilises patriotism and their love for their country as means to justify harming the youth, however a 4th of July neighbourhood barbeque is also commonly associated with white picket fence gated community America, which ties us back to the base criticism of that style of life and how it is seen as the “proper” and “perfect” way to live.

These cannibalistic sentiments are followed up with the line “smile and wave boys, kiss the cook, live laugh and love, please pass the pills.” which brings us back to the repeated use of commonly known sayings being taken directly or modified only slightly to remind the listener of the setting were in, that being a seemingly 1950’s era tight knit neighbourhood.

Phrases like “live laugh [and] love” or “kiss the cook” are both phrases that could easily be seen in a setting like this, especially “kiss the cook”, as this is a phrase commonly associated with aprons worn by grillmasters at neighbourhood barbeques, not unlike the cannibalistic 4th of July barbeque that this particular neighbourhood seems to be hosting.

These phrases being immediately followed up with a sentiment such as “please pass the pills” serves to entirely undermine the pleasantries that, until a moment ago, seemed to be plastered all over the faces of the people living in this fictional town that Wood has created. I think that final phrase brings the listener back to the realisation that not all is right here, quite the opposite in fact, and drags them from their momentary paradise.

Circling back very quickly to the phrase “smile and wave”. I felt the need to point out that this phrase has been used for centuries as a way to say “stop talking and act normal” which once again reinforces that these people are pretending to be something they’re not in order to fit in.

We enter the next verse with the repeated phrase “it's only culture”, after that line is repeated three times we hear “sulfur, smoke and soot”, which could either be a reference to how dirty and disgusting the ‘culture’ is, or it could be a different way of saying that this culture and the people participating are going to hell, as per the common phrase ‘fire and brimstone’ and the fact that sulfur is another way of saying brimstone, and smoke and soot are both byproducts of fire.

The last line of this verse and the first line of the chorus blend into each other, so I’ll speak on them both.

First, the last line of the verse. It goes “you cocked and sucked your lack of empathy, pulled the trigger with your foot to prove you've got-”

Putting aside the clear innuendo, this line refers to the idea of ending one's own life with a long shotgun. According to the media, by the time the gun is cocked and the barrel is in your mouth, you're not able to pull the trigger with your hands due to the length of the barrel. This line instead presents the solution of pulling the trigger with your foot to end your life.

So this person “cocked and sucked” the gun (cocked the gun and put the barrel in their mouth) before pulling the trigger with their foot to prove they’ve got-

And here's where the verse blends into the chorus.

Because the first line only consists of one word.

“Blood”.

The person who was shooting themselves with a shotgun only to prove that they bleed. Which is where the title of this section comes in. “(Vampire) Culture”. This section seeks to portray either the people in this culture or, the more likely option, the culture itself, as metaphorical vampires, who aim to destroy those around them. This knowledge makes the next line “didn't they want your blood, so why apologise for being blue and cold” make a lot more sense. After all, if these culture vampires have drained you of your blood, is it not their fault that you’re now “blue and cold”, as bodies tend to be if they lack blood flow. However, if you look at synonyms for the words “blue” and “cold”, you could also interpret this phrase as meaning “sad and apathetic”.

A sad and apathetic person doesn't seem to be the kind of person this ‘culture’ seeks to enlist however, and so one who is “blue and cold” is shunned as an outsider.

What Wood is getting at is that if this culture is the one who made you sad and apathetic, then you should not apologise to it for being so.

The next verse is short, and like the previous one, also blends into the chorus in the same way, by having the last line of the verse cut off right where the chorus would finish the sentence with the word “blood”. However in this verse, there's an interesting line. “It's only culture and it's more afraid of you than you are of it”, which is a sentiment usually used by adults to attempt to subdue a child's fear of something, usually insects. However it's interesting in the fact that it brings up the idea that this culture that has caused so much damage and harm is actually incredibly fragile, and would, in theory be very afraid of the concept of the individual, because if this ‘culture’ is only being held together by the silent agreeance that everyone will simply pretend, then the idea that there is people who refuse throws the whole idea into jeopardy.

This line is followed up however, by the line that blends it into the chorus. “Go on drink that-”, clearly intended to be finished by the first line of the chorus, making the full line, “go on drink that blood”.

This line is in reference to the phrase “drink the kool-aid” which essentially means to pledge your undying loyalty to something, a concept, a person, a god, etc. and it derives from an infamous mass cult suicide where over 900 people drank poisoned Kool-Aid and subsequently died for the cult. It is not a far cry to believe that this event and this phrase is what the line is referring to, as it's something that Wood has referenced in other songs, so it only makes sense to believe that this is what he means here.

After that chorus we move on to the bridge, which begins by listing 3 pairs of names, all famous or semi famous, and each pair being similar in one right but opposite in another, the line goes as follows; “were you Nabokov to a Sallinger, were you Jung to Freud or Dass to a Leary”, so let's break down these pairs one by one.

First “Nabokov to a Sallinger”, these names belong to Vladimir Nabokov and J.D. Sallinger, both authors who wrote famous books that both surround the theme of innocence, but in very different ways. Nabokov’s book “Lolita” is a story told from the perspective of a grown man about his sexual obsession and attraction to a little girl, and his desire to ruin her innocence, exploring the theme of innocence in a grotesque and frankly horrifying way, which is in stark contrast to Sallinger’s book “The Catcher in the Rye”, which explores the topic of innocence through the main characters desire to preserve their little sisters innocence, and in that desire displays hesitancy at the idea of sex themself. Both books explore the topic of innocence, however while one seeks to preserve it, the other seeks to destroy it, two sides of the same coin.

The next pairing is “Jung to Freud”, meaning Carl Gustav Jung and his mentor Sigmund Freud, who once again are similar in one right, but opposite in another. Jung and Freud both had theories on the nature of the human mind, but where Jungs was all about the concept of spirituality and how that ties into the collective unconscious, Freud's approach was much more focused on the individual unconscious and the concept of sexuality.

The final pairing is “Dass to a Leary”. both psychologists, both at the forefront of the ‘Harvard Psilocybin Project’ (before they both got dismissed from harvard entirely following controversies around the project) Richard Alpert and Timothy Leary were both psychologists and eventually authors who studied the effects of psychedelic drugs on the human mind, and while they were co workers they ended up with pretty conflicting views. Dr. Richard Alpert, who apparently ‘died’ and was ‘reborn’ as spiritual guide Ram Dass, centred his teachings heavily around the concept of living in the moment, (in fact his best selling book, written in 1971 was titled ‘Be Here Now’) and he believed that psychedelic drugs were not needed and that a permanent version of the same effects could be achieved through meditation. Whereas Dr. Timothy Leary advocated heavily for the use of psychedelics, believing that LSD specifically had great potential for therapeutic psychiatric use.

All of these pairings and examples utilise the concept of duality and speak on how every coin has two sides, which can easily be tied back to the idea that the picture perfect suburban life is just one side of the coin. This idea is then reinforced by the next line, “were you mother, daughter, subject and author?”, The use of the word ‘and’ here shows that it's possible to be two sides of the same coin at once, just like how this town, which is perfect on one side of the coin, is still terrible on the other side of the coin. The line is stating that it's possible to be both at once.

The very last line in this section is; “you don't make the rules, you just write them down and do it by the book you throw around”. This line combines a few relatively well known phrases. The first being of course ‘i don’t make the rules’, which can have two distinct meanings. The first is to express a kind of sympathy for someone being punished, and the second is to absolve yourself of the blame for that person being punished, a sort of ‘don't shoot the messenger’ situation.

The ‘rules’ that are likely being referred to here are the societal norms and expectations forced upon people who reside in these towns, the standard for ‘perfection’.

However, following this sentiment up with the phrase “you just write them down” is essentially saying that while it's not the fault of the people in these towns, they didn't create the norms, they still enforce them. They expect everything to be in line and perfect at all times, they follow these ‘rules’ to a T, and they shun and punish anyone who doesn't fit the standard and/or refuses to follow these ‘rules’, which is where the line “do it by the book you throw around” comes in, doing something ‘by the book’ means to follow rules strictly and to the letter, nothing out of line, and to throw the book at someone means to punish them as severely as possible, usually used in the legal sense to mean punishing someone for their crime as severely as the law will allow. So in all, the lyric “you don't make the rules, you just write them down and do it by the book you throw around” ends up meaning ‘you didn't create these norms but you still enforce them by following them to an absolute T and punishing anyone who doesn't.’

With that we enter the third and final section of the song, entitled ‘Love Me, Normally’, a title it shares with another song on the album, but of course this song is partially meant to serve as an overture for the whole album, meaning it shares some similar lyrics with lyrics from other songs on the album, so sharing a title isn't all that surprising.

The first lyric in this section is “do you know the difference between blazing trails and slash and burn?” which is another instance of duality in this song. Trailblazing or being a trailblazer means doing something no one has done before, paving the way for other people to follow in your footsteps, it comes from the literal act of creating a trail in the woods for people to follow, usually by creating notches in trees or setting small fires, hence ‘blazer’, as blaze is another word for a fire. However “slash and burn” is a method of deforestation that involves cutting down and burning a section of forest to create a field. Both examples include using fire to change something, but where one is seen as progress and positive, the other is negative, and seen as a means of destruction. Once again, two sides of the same coin, innovation and destruction.

This is followed up with the line “going against the grain and catching splinters”, which is a line i particularly like because while it is something that literally can happen, if you run your hand along wood in the opposite direction to the grain, you're more likely to get a splinter because you're essentially pushing your hand against the chips of wood, but it also is another metaphor for the dangers of not being the same. Going against the grain in this instance means daring to be different, not going the same way everyone else is going but instead the opposite of that, and in this example splinters are the consequences one would face for being different, especially in a setting like this perfect town, where everyone is the exact same as everyone else.

A little bit later you hear the line “well Lot he had his lot in life, Job his job and i guess you’ll too, and die”.

Lot and Job are both figures found in the Bible, whose names both share spelling with common English words, but are pronounced slightly differently.

Job, from the Book of Job, was a man that was tested by God, made to suffer to test his loyalty, his ‘job’ was to believe unendingly in God and see Him as always correct no matter what.

Lot, from the Book of Genesis, was a man who went through a lot, and the phrase ‘my lot in life’ is a phrase commonly used by people to write off/explain why they don't have it as good as others, they say it's simply their ‘lot in life’.

The end of this line “i guess you’ll too, and die” i believe refers to the fact that everyone will have their own job and their own lot in life, and then everyone in the end will die.

This theory is solidified by the fact that the next line is “The Lord looked down and said ‘hey, you're only mortal’” which is a play off of the phrase ‘you're only human’. Wood himself said that the phrase ‘you're only human’ has always felt weird to him, he says, “cause like, of course I am, aren’t we all? How is that fact supposed to help? I still feel bad. What does being human mean to you?”. He follows this up by saying that the idea of God saying "hey, you're only mortal" offers the same kind of sentiment, but in a “cosmically condescending” sort of way.

The following line reads “giveth and taketh away, till things come out a certain way, leave you wondering when they might go back to normal… leave you wondering why they can't have just been normal”.

This line presents a sort of hopelessness in the realisation that things are constantly changing, nothing is any more ‘normal’ than anything else, there's no such thing as ‘normal’, which is an overarching theme found throughout the album. Once again bringing back the fact that for all intents and purposes this song is an overture for the rest of the album.

To conclude, ‘Suburbia Overture’ is, in my opinion, one of the greatest criticisms of suburban, middle class, gated community, nuclear family life i've ever seen, it highlights the problems in that life and showcases how this kind of lifestyle in its incredibly rigid and restrictive standards is incredibly harmful to the very concept of individuality, because the expectations and unspoken rules set in communities like this and the widespread idea of forced normality seeks to crush any individuality before it even has a chance to blossom.

The use of metaphors and phrases that are well known and are likely to be seen in settings such as this gated community suburban town that Wood has created really paint a subconscious picture of what this community looks like, the use of duality, how every story has another side, and how nothing that is seemingly perfect from the outside is actually perfect on the inside.

Will Wood is an incredible lyricist and the fact that he was able to cram so much symbolism and such a powerful message into a song just over 6 minutes long is genuinely incredible.

Thank you for listening to my/reading my autistic hyper fixated rambling, i hope i didn't melt your brain too badly <3

[cuppajj]

Neo Beast Head cannons?

WOOWOO

✨Saint Vanilla Cookie

He’s the only one who goes wherever he wants. The other beasts are pretty stationary for the time being, but Saint’s on a mission and he will show up literally anywhere

Still loves animals and thinks they’re incapable of sinning, so they don’t get the purifying touch. It’s why raisin’s crows are still alive

Speaking of raisin, he does miss her but he thinks she’s in a better place. Calls her his martyr and talks about her like she’s still alive

He has tea every morning

It’s unknown where he sleeps when he’s traveling the world

He keeps Crepe’s headset extra clean for the day they meet each other again

❤️‍🔥Dragonberry Cookie

She is still the same old Hollyberry who loves drinking berry juice like there’s no tomorrow. She even brings pints to Neo beast meetings

Even though her pride has given her a massive superiority complex, she still views her family and even Pitaya rather fondly, though it doesn’t prevent the latter from being spared any sort of pain. She sees everything as playful until it’s not

Does frankly miss Tarte Tatin and Royal Margarine even though one or both of them has Snapdragon, who she’s trying to get her hands on

Snores

❄️Frigid Cacao Cookie

Rarely speaks but when he does it’s usually to give orders, and half of that time he asks for food

His incense always remains lit

Alongside the cookies left, sometimes the licorice sea monsters that now roam his halls act as his servants. He can also use the licorice ooze to do wacky things like teleport from one place to another

Sometimes he appears in the fog of the snow like an apparition, something you can barely see but know he’s there. It’s one of the rare sightings of him outside

Another thing he does when outside is stare at a frozen Cacaoian. Sometimes he touches the icy surface, maybe kneels. Who knows what he’s thinking?

☀️Celestial Cheese Cookie

A lot of her mannerisms are akin to white diamond from steven universe, she was actually one of the main references I used for her design

She can summon as many golden arms as she wants and they operate on hydra properties. Cutting one will grow two

Despite this, she doesn’t have the legit Midas touch where everything she touches turns to gold, she can be selective. Which is good when she wants to pet jackals

Her growing kingdom is full of converted desert inhabitants and travelers, maybe a handful of townships, and it’s remarkable how she’s been able to grow a lot from nothing. She does get a bit of an inferiority complex when comparing herself to the likes of Dragonberry, but it motivates her to conquer more

🥀Midnight Lily Cookie

She picked up playing the harp after she became queen, and she plays often. The silver fae like to gather around to listen to their queen perform, and her harp can be heard across the kingdom

She’s grown more accustomed to speaking like the silver fae as well at times, her voice songlike despite how neutral it sounds. She’ll sing as she plays the harp as well

Despite being a beast, she’s the least accepting of that name for lack of a better word. She doesn’t see herself as being corrupt, only staying true to her decisions and her sovereignty, what she believes is right for herself and everyone. It just so happens that it enables the bad to do worse, but it’s not her problem anyway.

Her kingdom is still strict to outsiders, probably on the same level as cacao. You might need an invitation inside or risk the silver fae being free to do whatever they wish with you

As I mentioned previously they operate similar to the fae (unseelie in aesthetic) so you don’t want to bother chaotic neutral creatures

The only one allowed without invitation is Saint Vanilla, who has a habit of showing up in her garden to lay among the flowers. Lily can only imagine what he thinks of when he sees her

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Holy SHIT! Speaking of "you never know what's going on inside a house," here's the home of avid maximalist collectors. You can't see the interior b/c of all their stuff, but it has a pending sale. It's a nice looking 1968 Mid-century modern tri-level in Ada, OH. 5bds, 4ba, 2,692 sq ft, $355k.

Hello. (Oh, it's already decorated for Halloween, too). Are those giant stuffies really necessary? (Note the Indian Chief statues on the left.)

Very large, long, living room.

The dining room is ready for Halloween, unless it always looks like this. You know, I live alone, maybe I should get a skeleton to sit at the table, for company.

There's a lot going on in the kitchen. But, as you can see it's very large.

They tried to update the dated cabinets by painting them 2-tone, but the hardware and design are a dead giveaway. I wonder if the bright red tool cabinet conveys.

So, this is a bedroom. I guess it's pretty big, by the looks of all the furniture in here.

I don't know what this is.

Looks like a sewing room or craft space in this bedroom.

OMG. Do these people intend to pack all this up and take it w/them? I would just light fire to the place and call it a day. I see a fireplace. So, it's a rec room.

I wouldn't even consider buying a house like this, even though it's big and cheap- you can't see if there are any problems. The carpets are so dirty. They never clean around this stuff.

This is nuts. These are the bedrooms. Look at the little village along the bottom of the bookcase and cabinet.

Here's a nautical-themed bath.

They made this M&M bedroom into a laundry room I think that's a w/d in the closet.

This is crazy. Most of the bedrooms are unrecognizable. This table isn't even for a train set- it's just some kind of a scene.

Clearly, they don't use this bath.

There's a large deck.

And a narrow deck continues around the house. Looks like a pond next door.

Under the deck, a narrow patio area.

Play area.

Garage and shed, plus a fire pit area.

Oh, there's the pond.

The triangular property is 4 acres.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/8096-Township-Road-90-Ada-OH-45810/97144687_zpid/