#we’re the tunnel snakes | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

greedyhoneyz · 1 year

Text

We’re Doing Just Fine

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･pairing: neymar jr x reader

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･synopsis: when emotions are at an all time high, it’s time cool down and take in everything.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･cw: fluff.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･authors notes: I don’t think this is one of my best efforts so i might revamp it a bit but enjoy! there are many requests waiting to written so please be patient with me. 😁

The gentle patter of footsteps crept along the hardwood floors as (name) busied herself around the house. She swept up around the kitchen, fluffed the pillows on the couch and lightly wiped the walls all whilst soothing herself with a warm glass of milk.

Setting her glass on the coffee table, (name) ran her hands down her shirt, pressing through its creases and stared attentively at the front door just meters away from her.

She could hear the muffled roar of Neymar's car as it pulled into the driveway, followed by his shuffled footsteps alongside the cobblestone floor after he slammed his car door shut.

There was a moment of silence shared between the interior and exterior of the shared home as Neymar’s keys rattled and clicked against the front door.

The front door opened, Neymar’s shadowed figure glinting grimly under the front porch’s bright lights as he stepped into the mansion. In his hand he lugged a gym bag, his keys rattling around his pointer finger.

Dropping his bag on the floor, Neymar let out a heavy breath. He rolled his shoulders and paced his hand around the walls, searching for the light switch.

(name) crept slowly towards her boyfriend and called for him softly, her back pressed against the wall as he flipped the light on. “Ney….”

The overhead light, beaming above Neymar, tunnelled across the entryway. His eyes followed the light trail until it stopped at the end of the hallway, where (name) stood.

“Meu amor," Neymar whispered, a sparkle glimmering in his eyes. With extended arms, he walked towards (name), and a wide smile crept upon his face.

(name) stared at her boyfriend curiously, her gaze switching from his hands to his face as he stepped closer and closer to her.

Raising his hands, Neymar held her face between the palms of his hands. He bore his eyes into hers as a low chuckle escaped between his lips.

Confused, her brows knitted together, and (name) breathed. “What?”

Bursting into a fit of gleeful laughter, Neymar wrapped his arms around (name’s) middle and lifted her.

Perplexed and taken aback by her boyfriend’s reckless actions, (name) yelped.

He spun her round and round, the world around twirling as he cheered. “Nós ganhamos!” (We won!)

It took a while for (name) to return to Earth, her gaze stood distant and dazed as her head hung off her neck.

Blinking slowly, she raised her head and peered up at Neymar with a squinty glare, the grin painted across his face almost blinding.

Cupping her cheek, Neymar gently set (name) down. His tattooed hand grasped hers, their fingers intertwining together. He dragged her to the living room, (name) stumbling behind him and settled himself on the couch, pulling her onto his lap.

He embraced her tightly, his single hand brushing against her arm as he smiled manically, kicking his feet.

After a while, Neymar noticed (name’s) hooded eyes and a lazy smile. He frowned, his eyebrows furrowing. “Você não está feliz?” (Aren’t you happy?)

“I am.” (name) retorted softly, nuzzling her head into the crook of his neck. “Estou feliz.” (I’m glad.)

Inhaling deeply, (name) swallowed Neymar’s scent through the fabric of his shirt, her hand pressed to his chest. She snuggled into him, her arm wrapped around his neck.

“Por que você está tão quieto?” (Why are you so quiet?) Neymar asked softly, his thumb rubbing her tender cheek.

“I’m just tired.” (name) shrugged, propping her chin on his shoulder. She ran the tips of her nails along his neck as he snaked his hand underneath her shirt and stroked her back, his other hand gripping her thigh.

Blowing a breath of air, (name) spoke quietly. “Então, quando é sua próxima partida?” (So, when’s your next match?)

“Na próxima semana, não me lembro quando.” (Sometime next week, I don’t remember when.)

“Okay….” (name) droned slowly. She fidgeted in Neymar’s lap, her hold around his neck growing tighter and closed her eyes. Her breath settled, her chest rising and falling as her body began to shut down.

“Meu amor.” Neymar whispered. “Você está cansado, devemos subir?” (You’re tired, should we go upstairs?)

Shaking her head, (name) squeezed Neymar even tighter and reclined the side of her head against his. “No…I want to stay here with you.”

“Ok…” Neymar smiled softly, soothing his hand across (name’s) back. He embraced her solidly as her relaxed breath blew against his shoulder, tickling the hairs on his skin. Her arm eased around his neck as (name) slowly fell into slumber, leaving Neymar awake in their soundless, cosy home.

#neymar jr x black!reader #neymar jr x reader #neymar imagine #black!reader #football x reader #football imagine #football fanfic #football fanfiction

686 notes · View notes

dancingdonatello · 1 year

Note

Hello ! I hope I'm not requesting in a wrong time ! I like more platonic stuff so platonic one shot with the four bros united (rise bros)

Reader is the youngest sibling.

So I had this idea :

How about the rise bros helping their youngest sibling who's scared of the loud noises from a big thunderstorm ⛈️ like it hurts Thier ears and they are hiding under Thier bed crying because they're scared.

I love fluffy comforting big fictional bros 🥺💕

rottmnt x sib reader

There was nothing worse than thunderstorms.

The way it echoed through your underground home was terrifying. It bounced off the tunnels and became a deafening incomprensible roar. Usually, you were too caught off guard to even think of the chance of it being a thunderstorm. You usually would think it was something terrifying making that hurtful noise so you would go hide before you thought it completely through.

Mikey was usually the first to find you. He’d peer under your bed to see if you were there—which you always were. Then he’d join you, just chilling as you two waited for your three older brothers to come. He’d tell you about the art projects he wanted to do or if this was in the middle of the night, he’d tell you about the dreams he was having.

Then Leo would barge in and forcefully drag you out from your bed in the most traumatizing way only an older brother could manage to do. Luckily, Raph would pull you away from him and wrap you with a fluffy blanket. He’d set you on the bed just in time for Donnie to march in with your old and busted speaker.

“Turtle pile!” Raph flopped onto the bed, making you bounce with his weight hitting the bed beside you. Mikey and Leo would climb in to join and then the four of you would watch Donnie fiddle with the speaker.

“It won’t work?” Mikey yawned out and leaned against your back sleepily.

Donnie had placed it on the ground to inspect it, grumbling and complaining about how old and old tech it was.

“Kick it,” you told him, your first words since they all stormed into your room.

“It’s not going to turn on it you kick it, that’s be preposterous.” Donnie hesitated for a moment, clearly considering your words before he gave in and kicked it. It turned on. “Stupid old thing… Could totally make you a brand new one but you always refuse…”

“Poor wittle baby,” Leo cooed, pulling you into a hug. “Scwared of the storms…” You squirmed in his hold, displeased at the teasing.

“Do I need to bring up how you wouldn’t look at cucumbers for years because you were convinced they were snakes?” Raph asked in a fake sweet voice, the threat clear underneath his tone.

Donnie climbed onto his back, joining the pile. “I would love for you to bring that up.”

“Hahaha, no need, hermano!” Leo pulled you closer, as if trying to hide behind your body or use you as a shield. Mikey laughed a little too loudly for Leo’s liking. “Hey, Miguel, remember when you hid in your shell for days because of a clown horn noise, dear brother of mine?”

“You wouldn’t dare…” Mikey glared.

“Okay, okay, enough blackmailing each other with things we’re scared of!” Raph reached over and shut the lights off. “Let’s sleep until the storm is over. Mad Dogs… lights off.”

“You don’t say, ‘lights off’ when the lights are already off, Raph.”

They were arguing again. At least you couldn’t hear the thunder over their shouts and your crappy music speaker.

#rottmnt x reader #tmnt x reader #rise tmnt x reader

197 notes · View notes

antisocialpanda · 3 months

Text

Snowbaird Arena AU fic idea I’ve been thinking about for weeks now but don’t have any writing talent to make it come to life so if anyone out there wants to take this on please do!

In this AU Coryo doesn’t manage to escape the arena when he’s sent in to get Sejanus. Sejanus does get out (because this fic is about Snowbaird and I don’t want Sejanus to be third wheeling the whole time lol) but maybe Coral’s pack corners Coryo and he has to take a detour through the tunnels and Lucy Gray hears him and leads him to safety. Gaul couldn’t care less about getting him out because if he dies at least it’ll be off camera and everyone will be none the wiser.

The majority of the games will play out the same but this time Lucy Gray won’t be alone, when Jessup becomes rabid they bolt into the arena together to escape and that’ll be when the viewers see for the first time that one of the mentors is trapped in the arena (Gauls probably been going around telling people Coryo is off with the flu - Clemmie will be the only one who suspects something shady is at play since that was the same excuse they used for her). Everyone in the Capitol is up in arms about one of their own students being in the arena (Crassus Snow’s son no less!)

Lucy Gray and Coryo survive the games. I know in this AU he’s not around the drop the handkerchief into the snake tank but he’s been with Lucy Gray in the arena the whole time - and maybe to keep her warm at night he’s leant her his blazer (I know in the book he wasn’t wearing it but let’s say’s for this story he is) - so his scent would be on her and when the tank explodes and the snakes reach them they don’t attack. Lucy Gray still sings still because that song slaps and maybe this time Gaul is the one to suggest the singing is calming the snakes because she can’t exactly say “yeah they’re not attacking because they already know Snows scent from that time I used it to test my students honesty which resulted in one of them getting bitten multiple times and almost dying lol” it’s already bad enough that one of the students is in there, can’t let the Capitol know she’s using them as test subjects for her mutts too!

They’re out of the arena and Gauls stuck between a rock and a hard place because she can either tell people she willingly sent a Capitol student into the arena mid-games and left him there to fend for himself OR she can say Coryo broke in himself to protect Lucy Gray because young love blah blah which she’ll absolutely hate but may not result in her getting fired so that’s the story she goes with.

Dean Highbottom will actually for once try and do something decent and sees this as an opportunity to potentially end the games for good by playing up the Capitol Boy/ District Girl in love story blah blah look how District and Capitol can work as a team blah blah we’re not so different you and I blah blah Gaul wants everyone to believe that all humans are inherently monsters but look how these too worked so hard to protect each other…you get the idea.

The games are cancelled, Gaul probably still gets fired (Sejanus and Strabo probably corner the President and tell him “listen, you need to fire this bitch, we all know what really went down”), Snowbaird have their happy ending, there’s an emotional reunion between Coryo and Tigris, the Grandma’m is actually relatively pleasant to Lucy Gray since she saw how hard they protected each other in the games, maybe the covey come to the Capitol and perform and Plubris’ nightclub.

Anyway, that’s pretty much it. If anyone wants to adopt this baby, please do and let me know where I can read it. It would be much appreciated ☺️

I have read Saving Each Other by flipflop_diva (which I’ll include a link to, I definitely recommend you read) but if anyone knows any other similar fics please message me!

#snowbaird #snowbaird fic #coryo snow #coriolanus snow #lucy gray baird #lucy gray x coriolanus #fanfic ideas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #sejanus plinth

25 notes · View notes

sweeter-innocence-fics · 7 months

Text

106 (Butch Deloria First Kiss Drabble)

Word Count: 905

The Lone Wanderer burst out of Vault 106, coughing and spluttering. She took two steps out into the sunlight, and then collapsed onto her knees. Behind her, she heard Butch gasping for air. She closed her eyes.

It had all felt so real. Butch had come at her, swiping at the vulnerable, tender flesh of her throat with Toothpick.

She trusted him with her life. She wouldn’t be travelling with him if she didn’t. But it was a hard image to shake.

“Nosebleed?”

It was an old nickname. It reminded her of a younger, angrier, crueller Butch, but still, it was oddly comforting. The mean Butch of the past might’ve been a thug, but he wasn’t a murderer.

His hand landed on her shoulder. She was pretty sure he was about to help her up, but she couldn’t help the way she flinched.

“Hey, hey…” He said her name almost tenderly, pulling his hand back. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Feeling her strength return, she pushed up off her knees and stood.

For the first time since they’d exited the vault, she looked at Butch. He was looking worse for wear. His eyes were red. His normally perfectly sculpted hairdo was sticking up in places. Loose locks of hair were curling down on either side of his forehead. In all honesty, she kind of liked it. She knew that if she told him what state his hair was in, he’d fix it, so she didn’t.

“We need to get out of here,” she said. “We’re too exposed.”

The sun was setting by the time they found the unoccupied ruins of an old house. There was a bed that still had a mattress, and the mattress wasn’t mouldy, so it was good enough.

The previous tenants of this place had made a makeshift firepit, so she busied herself building a fire. The roof had a gaping hole in it, which, in this case, was actually good for ventilation purposes.

As she was heating up a tin of pork n’ beans, Butch said “Are you gonna tell me what you saw in there?”

“I’m not sure you wanna know,” she said, not meeting his eyes.

“Ever since we left that place, you’ve barely looked at me! You didn’t even let me help you up earlier! So yeah, I guess I kinda wanna know what’s bothering you.”

She stared into the firepit. “You first.”

Butch let out a defeated sigh. “Okay. Alright. I saw my ma. She told me what a disappointment I am, of course. And then I saw her… I saw her…”

She looked at Butch. He wasn’t looking at her. He was looking up at the sky, but not really seeing it. Given how how frightening he found the sky, that was quite something.

“She was dead,” he said at last.

Feeling a little guilty for pushing him, she shuffled closer to him. He looked away from the sky and back at her. Their eyes met. She felt a familiar warmth inside her that she’d spent the past few weeks trying to ignore, but it was getting harder and harder.

“I saw my dad,” she started. She hadn’t intended for this to be the hard thing to talk about, but as soon as the words were out of her mouth, her lip wobbled. In spite of her best efforts, a couple of tears escaped.

Butch was watching her face carefully. When she seemed unable to get any other words out, he said, “Nosebleed, I’m so-”

“That wasn’t it,” she said, silencing him. “I also saw you.”

He frowned at her. “Me?”

“You and the other Tunnel Snakes. You tried to kill me.”

His brow creased. “That’s… I mean… You know I would never-”

“I know,” she said. “But it scared me.”

“Well… I’m sorry.”

That drew a laugh from her, surprising both of them. “What are you sorry for? It’s not like you actually tried to kill me.”

“I know, but…” He sighed. “I’m an asshole, right? You know that. I know that. I know I hurt you a lot when we were kids. I don’t want you being scared of me.”

“I’m not scared of you.” To demonstrate her point, she shifted closer to him. Her arm brushed against his. “If I was, I wouldn’t be here.”

“Well… Good. But you should know that I would never hurt you again. Not on purpose.”

“I know,” she said. She was leaning into his space now. His eyebrows shot up, but he opened his arms to let her get closer.

When she kissed him, it felt like something clicked into place. Tentatively, his hands fell to her waist. She wrapped her arms around his neck, drawing him in closer.

When they separated, she was practically in his lap. He expected her to pull back fully, but instead she settled herself there, arms draped loosely over his shoulders.

“Hi,” he said, looking more flustered than she’d ever seen him.

“Hi.” She smoothed a lock of his hair back into place. She expected him to object, but was pleasantly surprised when he didn’t. “Just so you know, I know I don’t have to be scared of you. If it came to fight, I’d win.”

“Yeah? You think so?” He had a mischievous glint in his eye.

“I know so.”

“Wanna bet?”

She let out an undignified squeak as he tackled her to the floor.

Masterlists.

Taglist info.

#butch deloria x female lone wanderer #butch deloria x lone wanderer #drabble #butch first kiss drabble

25 notes · View notes

neonponders · 1 year

Text

Part 36 for @wrecked-fuse ‘s pocketverse ~

( A special honorable mention to @akioukun for this one 🦈 )

Part 35 (main plot)

Part 31 & 32 (werewolf!Billy chapters haha)

( pt. 7′s art 🎩 ) ( pt. 9′s art 👀 ) ( pt. 14′s art 💨 ) ( pt. 19′s art 🦇 ) ( pt. 20′s art 🍳) ( pt. 27’s art 🦦 )

~ on ao3 ~

• • •

Little Steve slumped against Billy’s shirt pocket, giggling himself into a stupor as they made their way through the sea lion exhibit. Small Billy looked up at his bigger self and worried, “Is he brwoken?”

“Yeah, what’s going on, chipmunk? Don’t lose your nuts.”

Big Steve’s brows stitched together at that, but then his little gulped air to say, “The sea wions look wike you, Biwwy. So sweepy and handsome.”

The bigger Steve’s eyes blew wide and he put a finger over his lip. “It’s the mustache. I get it.”

Billy’s features flattened, making him look like an annoyed sea lion in the headlights while his smaller self laughed but scratched his hairless upper lip.

They saw everything the aquarium had to offer - minus the crabs. Chrissy grabbed Eddie’s hand and marched right through that exhibit. Little Steve and Billy cooed and awed at the various dark tunnels with brightly lit enclosures. It was less easy to keep small Eddie confined when some of the rooms were designed to look like enclosures themselves.

“Is this wreal?” he asked, flying up to touch a wall that looked like rock and moss. “Metal! Firwst goth shawrks, and now we’wre the animals! This place rocks!”

Bigger Eddie’s nostrils flared, but Chrissy gently intervened, “Eds, can you sit on my bun? It’s gonna be a while before we have lunch.”

He swooped through the darkness to use the topknot on her head like the back of a chair. With Eddie mollified, he could better focus on small Chrissy. He cupped his hands, lifting her up to better see various animals. It didn’t take long for small Eddie to join the higher vantage point, but he seemed just as pleased to flutter his wings behind him, feeling the air without exhausting himself.

They arrived to a room with walls of fish as well as a central pillar of glass and tropical fish. Steve walked a lazy lap around the room before approaching Billy with the idea to give their littles a similar, higher view, but as soon as his mouth opened, he went quiet. Billy held a hand over his pocket as he silently gazed up at the pillar of colorful coral and striped fish. Little Billy and Steve held onto his forefinger, but the latter had an arm around small Billy, brown hair nuzzling blond.

Steve smiled softly, watching the blue veins of light wander over the little guys before he saw how the same light glowed in Billy’s water-blue eyes. Long lashes blinked sharply when Steve stroked the back of Billy’s other hand. “You want to hit the gift shop and grab some food?”

“Yeah. Take the guys, though. I’m gonna buy an overpriced coffee from concessions.”

“Make it two?”

Billy smirked in his sleepy way at him. “Six sugars?”

“No,” Steve groaned as the littles switched from Billy’s pocket to his own. “...Just two. And a cream.”

Billy snorted softly. “I know how you take your coffee. See you in the gift shop.”

Steve and the others meandered to the contrastingly bright shop while Billy went to the small cafeteria. Steve expected the little ones to be dozing in his shirt, but upon arriving at shelves upon shelves of animal plushies, they proved very much awake. The gasp from his shirt made Steve look nervously down.

“They’wre - they!” small Billy exclaimed, head swiveling between the turtles, snakes, and whales.

“Hold on,” Steve stymied. “We’re not taking all of these home.”

“Why not?” small Steve clipped.

“Because they’re not all for us, and frankly, I can’t afford all of them.”

“But otterws! ” his little argued, pointing to the shelf of them in various sizes.

“I know. This is where I got the one you sleep with. Let’s just relax and breathe for a second. We’re not grabbing anything until we take a lap.”

“What for?” small Billy interrogated.

Thankfully, Chrissy came to his rescue. “So we can see everything and make sure you’re getting the best thing.”

By some miracle, the store clerk was elsewhere, possibly on lunch break. So when small Eddie pulled out a shark plushie and the ensuing shelf following suit, he had a small audience. The weight of the shark pulled him right down, but he had a soft landing.

Eddie might be the rigid one in the pair, but he proved surprisingly gentle as he picked his smaller self up and supported his wings. “Hey, butthead. You okay?”

“I think I pulled a wing.” His tiny bottom lip pushed up like he might cry.

“Nothing Wayne’s bacon mac can’t fix. Just take it easy.”

“The mac ‘n’ cheese with the stawrs?”

“I don’t know if we have the star pasta, but we’ll get some on our way home.”

“And Coco Puffs?”

“You’re milkin’ me dry here, man.”

Chrissy giggled. “I’ll cover the Coco Puffs.”

On Steve’s side of the store, Billy arrived and handed him a small coffee. He eyed the menagerie of toys on the floor. “What’s going on?”

“Just a minor injury,” Steve said as he risked sipping the hot coffee. “Thanks.”

“Biwwy.” The man looked at little Steve, who posed, “We’wre taking a shawrk home, right?”

Billy blinked and clarified, “A toy one. Not a real one.”

The small guys stared at him and then pivoted to murmur to each other as if that hadn’t even occurred to them -

Steve interjected, “Not a real one. We’re not putting a shark in the pool.”

Steve didn’t realize he might have walked into a trap until little Billy pointed and said, “Then that one!”

A shark plushie about the size of their otter hung off the shelf, almost a victim of little Eddie’s mess. Steve picked it up and tested the soft, pliant toy. But right next to them were much smaller versions of animals that could fit in his hand. He held two sharks in his hands and reasoned, “You already have the otter to sleep on. Do you want a shark you can hold or a shark that can hold you?”

This was not the right thing to say.

The littles went very quiet. Steve peered down at his shirt and saw his littler self with big, sad eyes and confused, upturned brows. Like he couldn’t understand why they had to make a choice.

Little Billy was silently having a meltdown. The whites of his eyes went pink as they slowly filled and filled with tears.

Steve quietly interpreted, “Both. Okay, okay. You’re not in trouble. I’m just trying to not take home the whole store. You can have both.”

He looked to large Billy for input or just plain help, but the man stayed quiet. If anything, he looked uncomfortable and ready to leave -

“Stevie?” small Billy asked.

“Yeah?” small Steve answered.

“Would you sweep with me on the shawrk? Or stay on the otterw?”

Big Steve’s eyes flicked between them, trying to understand what the real question was.

“I’wll sweep with you anywhere, Biwwy. Shawrk or otterw. You’wre my Biwwy.”

The tears slipped over his chubby cheeks and he said. “I want the smawll shawrk. I wanna hold him. Stevie can hold me.”

Big Steve stood frozen in place, unsure what just happened and totally overwhelmed. Billy finally did something and took the larger black-tipped reef shark out of his hand and carried the smaller version to the register. Steve mutely followed, busy trying to get a tissue package out of his jacket pocket to clean up small Billy...

A loud clatter jerked his eyes up to a small, bronze-looking otter figurine keychain. Billy looked around at the vacancy of a store clerk and said to nobody in particular, “Should we shoplift?”

Steve didn’t answer that and instead asked, “I thought you’d have gone something shark-themed, too.”

“I already have one.”

“One what?”

“A shark.”

“Really?” Steve puzzled. “Where? I didn’t see anything in your room.”

For a moment, he wondered if he’d said the wrong thing again, because the muscle in Billy’s jaw bulged. “He was in the laundry room when you were over. He doesn’t get to come out all that often.”

A cashier finally arrived, speed walking behind the counter. “Hi! So sorry, I hope you weren’t waiting long.”

“Slow day,” Billy said indifferently, but promptly ripped the tags off. “I don’t need a bag.”

They got out of the way for Eddie and Chrissy to make their purchases, and Billy opened his jacket to insert the shark into his breast pocket in front of the littles. “Tuck in, Snorkels.”

“Snorkels?” Steve overheard with a snort.

“That’s Mr. Snorkels to you.”

“Mr.,” he blurted but then recoiled at the severity on Billy’s face. “Wait, really?”

Billy didn’t answer. He prowled his way out of the aquarium, into the balmy afternoon after so much air conditioning as Steve followed behind him.

“When can I meet him?”

“Excuse me?”

“You know my stuffed animal. Why can’t I know yours?”

A smile cracked on Billy’s face. “Oh, you want to meet my shark?”

“I already met him. I want to meet Mr. Snorkels.”

Billy made a pfft sound as he worked on putting his new keychain on his keys. Whatever the attitude he gave Steve, the small brass otter had to be a good sign...right?

“You promised me food.”

Steve took that for what it is, an end to the conversation. Rolling his eyes, he surrendered, “Sandwiches or burritos?”

#harringrove #wrecked-fuse #neonponders #akioukun #pocketverse #pocket!au #like magnets

71 notes · View notes

mable-stitchpunk · 6 months

Text

Dazed and Amused- TADC fic- Teaser

It was a typical day in the Digital Circus.

Everyone had just gotten finished unclogging the pipe maze of an infestation of surprisingly aggressive gummy worms. A fantastic adventure that was clearly just Caine giving them busy work that he didn’t want to do himself.

“Excellent job in snaking those drains! And in record time too! You should allll be proud of yourselves. Look at Bubble, he’s thrilled! He’s so happy! He’s… Bubble, goodness me, STOP. Whatever you’re doing, please!"

Bubble turned to face a cringing Caine with a mouth overflowing in half-chewed gummy worms. Them slowly sliding out of his mouth as he replied.

“Sowwy boss.”

“Ahem, in any case…” Caine turned back to the others with a little spin of his cane. “I think you all deserve a just reward and a day out, soooo… We’re going to the DIGITAL CARNIVAL!”

There were some mixed reactions amongst the group, but one was very vocal.

“Really?! Hurray!” Gangle cheered, clapping her ribbons. Her comedy mask still stuck firmly to her face. It was a wonder with how lost she had gotten during their excursion.

As a matter of fact, it was the longest Gangle had gone in a while without breaking that mask. So, instead of her typically sulking self, she was overflowing with excitement, bouncing in place.

And it was all because Jax too had gotten lost in that stupid maze. He gave the masked tangle of ribbons a slightly irritated look.

“Ugh,” he groaned in exaggeration.

He made a show of it but, much to his continued displeasure, Gangle took absolutely no notice of it. Someone else did though, the ragdoll standing directly to his right who quickly chimed in.

“Well, you’re the one who’s always claiming that everyone’s too gloomy. You should be happy she’s happy,” Ragatha whispered to him.

“I said she was being a drag. I didn’t say I wanted her to become annoying,” Jax clarified.

Ragatha rolled her eyes from him to Pomni. Giving her a ‘are you hearing this?’ sort of look.

Pomni looked back with a visibly uneasy look replacing her tired one from a few moments ago. That was right, Ragatha realized. Pomni hadn’t gotten a chance to go to the Digital Carnival, and she could only be wary at Caine’s enthusiasm.

“Don’t worry, Pomni. This is going to be fun! The Digital Carnival is great, really,” Ragatha assured.

Before Pomni could even reply, Caine literally inserted himself into the conversation by popping up in between them. It made Pomni jump and even Ragatha took a partial step back in surprise.

“And now it is even better!” he proclaimed. “I have updated it with more rides, more attractions, more prizes, and plenty more bug fixes!”

“Bugs?” Kinger snapped his head over with a confused blink.

“Oh yes! The, erm, minor issues from last time are a thing of the past! For example, the roller coaster- the cars no longer fly off the track!”

“Aww, but Caine, that was the best part! Coming down at breakneck speeds and then fl-ying off at the turn and breaking our necks,” Jax mockingly complained.

“I’m sorry, Jax. I know you like the thrills, but safety is this park’s number one concern!” Caine insisted, Jax’s shtick flying right over his head. Caine then leaned in and whispered behind his hand- loudly, mind you- “We also have a tunnel of looove~.” He winked.

“Oh that’s…” Ragatha said back with an awkward smile. She stole a look to Jax and saw the absolute look of offense and disbelief that was now on his face. She squeezed her hands together. “That’s great.”

Jax looked at her with just straight-up disbelief now.

“It is! Especially for any love birds tweeting about,” Caine hinted. If that wasn’t obvious enough, he then nudged Pomni repeatedly until he was sure she got it too.

Ragatha only kept smiling to cover her embarrassment.

“I think you’re tweeting outta your- Wait, if we’re going… Shotgun!” Jax suddenly cried. He thrust an arm up in the air as his face broke into an eager smile.

Ragatha pursed her lips as she realized what she had inadvertently let happen again.

“Why, you eager beaver you! Of course you can drive, Jax! I appreciate the initiative,” Caine complemented.

The others weren’t nearly as thrilled. Gangle was making sure to hold her mask on, Kinger got a downright dazed look, and Zooble gave a loud groan.

“God, Jax, didn’t feel like giving anyone else a chance?” Zooble asked.

“Nope! You snooze you lose, Picasso,” Jax said, strutting by.

“What just happened?” Pomni asked for clarification.

“Jax is driving again,” Ragatha sighed. She rubbed her arm. “He’s… a little bit of a leadfoot.”

“…Wait, we have a car?!”

Ragatha laughed a little. “You could call it that… but I wouldn’t.”

“…That doesn’t bode well!” Pomni said with a tense smile.

#The Amazing Digital Circus #fanfic #Dazed and Amused #Ragatha #Jax #Pomni #Caine #Bubble #Gangle #Zooble #Kinger #Please for the love of God Bubble stop that #Caine is unsubtle #God help them once they get in that car

20 notes · View notes

shadowqueenjude · 7 months

Text

Lucien finally loses his shit part 8

Lucien is panicking in the wake of the recapture of his friend! Lucien couldn’t sit idle.

He couldn’t sit idle while his friend had been captured by an evil death god. He had to do something. “I’m going to face Koschei,” Lucien said.

“Are you mad?!” Feyre said incredulously. “He’s incredibly powerful! You’ll die!”

Lucien snorted. “Thanks for the vote of confidence. But I’m not planning on going alone. I’m going to gather some allies. Anyone who might be willing to help us.”

Nesta appraised him. “What about your brother?”

Lucien stiffened. He knew exactly which brother she referred to. His eldest brother, who had apparently allied with the Night Court now. He wasn’t sure if he was desperate enough to ask for his help. “No.”

“If you don’t want to talk to him, I can,” she offered.

“That’s extremely dangerous,” Lucien warned.

Nesta stood up. That otherworldy fire flew into her eyes again. It sung to something in his blood, that look. “I can handle myself,” she said.

“I don’t doubt that,” Lucien said carefully. “But my brother is a snake. He will strike you when you’re at your weakest.”

Nesta smiled grimly. “Then it’s a good thing I’m the same.”

Lucien sighed. It seemed the Archerons all shared the same utter stubbornness that couldn’t be stomped out by anything. “Ok, but only if Feyre teaches you some magic and sword-fighting techniques.”

Nesta’s head turned to Feyre’s, then back to Lucien. To his surprise, there was no protest from Nesta.

“I’m coming with you too,” Jurian said.

Lucien glared at him. “You’re a human. You’ll just be a liability.”

“Try and fucking stop me,” Jurian said through clenched teeth.

Lucien rolled his eyes. “You’re an idiot.”

“And you’re a nerd.”

“Moron.”

“Smartass.”

“Ladies, ladies, you’re both beautiful,” Nesta said. Lucien and Jurian both turned to her and managed a genuine laugh.

“What are you still doing here?” Lucien said, gesturing to Nesta. “You may be Lady Death, but you still need to practice your magic.”

“You may be a smart red fox, but that doesn’t mean you need to boss everyone around all the time.”

Lucien laughed again. “Fair.”

Elain glanced between the two of them, saying nothing. Lucien caught every slight shift she made though.

“Since when are you two friends?” Feyre demanded.

“I, too, would like to know,” Elain said a little quieter, but with a hardness in her voice that Lucien had never heard before. Her feelings tunneled down the mating bond, and Lucien jolted. Something bitter green, almost like…

“My lady Elain, are you jealous?”

Elain stood up abruptly. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she snapped, and she stormed out of the room.

Jurian had a shit-eating grin on his face now. “She’s 100 percent jealous, Lucien,” he whispered.

Lucien grinned back. Even Feyre had a wide smile on her face when the two males focused on her. “I think I might know someone who will help,” Lucien said. He hesitantly put a hand on Jurian’s shoulder. “We’re getting her back, ok?”

Jurian nodded; determination set on his face. “Yes. We are.”

Lucien was standing before the High Lord of the Spring Court.

Tamlin was a far cry from what he had once been. A twinge of pain and guilt flowed through Lucien at the thought. But now was not the time for sentiments. His friend was missing. He’d go to the ends of the world to bring her back.

The male was defeated and broken. Lucien couldn��t blame him. His formerly bright green eyes were heavy and dull, his claws permanently out of their sheaths. Lucien knew it wasn’t merely losing Feyre that rattled him, though that certainly didn’t help. Lucien only knew too well what it was like to lose the love of your life. Jesminda had been the one light in the darkness of the Autumn Court. Fitting that he had left the court as soon as she had died.

No, the Spring Court was a far cry from the glory days. And a lot of the reason for that was Feyre herself. Lucien still harbored resentment towards Feyre for what she had done to those innocent people. His home. But he would not dwell on it now. Like it or not, he needed Feyre right now. Just as he needed Tamlin now.

“Tam,” he said quietly. Tamlin looked up at him. No emotion lay there. “Tam, I need your help.”

He snarled. “Ask someone else.”

“Tam,” Lucien said again. “Please.”

He paused, waiting for Tamlin to snarl his dismissal again. But Tamlin only slumped. Lucien took that as an invitation to speak. “Vassa is in danger.”

Tamlin dragged a claw across the table. “And what am I to do about it?”

“Help me get her back. Me and a group of friends… we’re going to go get her back. From Koschei.”

“That’s a suicide mission.”

Lucien didn’t relent. “You’d once said that against slavery, against tyranny, you would gladly go to your death, no matter whose freedom you were defending. Vassa is a slave to Koschei. Does this not apply to her?”

“Do not try to guilt trip me- “

Lucien stared Tamlin down. He let Tamlin see and feel the power that had slowly grown since he was a boy, and continued to grow even now. The power he had been afraid to acknowledge even to himself, the most important reason why his brothers had hunted him down from a young age. “I speak nothing but the truth. Tamlin, I served you all these years because I believed in you. I believed in that male, that radical who would fight against all of that. It’s why I’ve risked everything to defy Rhysand-“

“What did you do,” Tamlin said abruptly.

Lucien took a deep breath. “I broke the mating bonds of Feyre and Nesta.”

“Why would you do that?” Tamlin demanded. “I wanted her to be happy.”

“She wasn’t, Tam. No one can be with an asshole like that.”

Tamlin sighed. “I’d hoped she’d be. Since she clearly couldn’t be with me.”

“Yes, she can, Tam. You were made for her.”

Tamlin just stared at Lucien blankly. “I’m not her mate,” he said after a beat. “Rhysand is.”

“It is possible for a female to have two mates, you know.”

“What are you saying, Lucien? You know I cannot deal with your riddles.”

Lucien took a deep breath. “You are Feyre’s mate too. Since I broke the Rhysand mating bond, you are her only mate.”

Tamlin’s eyes widened for a moment before that dull expression returned. “It doesn’t matter. I won’t force myself on her, no matter what bond we may have.”

“So, don’t. Don’t do it for her. Do it for those principles. The ones you said were greater than any love you may have shared.”

Tamlin scowled. “Fine. I’ll do it for my principles. And also, for you.” He added softly, “Consider this my apology. For being a terrible friend these past months.”

Lucien’s heart hurt at that. “I just kept reaching my hand out. I knew you were still there, somewhere, Tam.” Tamlin shook his head. “You’re a better friend than I ever deserved, Lucien.”

#lucien vanserra #pro lucien vanserra #band of exiles #jurian #vassa #jassa #elucien #pro elucien #fanfic #anti inner circle #tamlin redemption

23 notes · View notes

antlerjay · 7 months

Text

when we read a prequel, we usually expect it to explain things from the main material. reading (or watching) the ballad of songbirds and snakes, once we find out snow’s the main character, we expect it to be some kind of explanation of his evilness. and, yes, it may show how he articulated in a explicit way his ideology, but i don’t think he changes that much from the beginning to the end; it’s his situation what changes, allowing him to bloom what was already latent.

on the other hand, we get an explanation for the hunger games. why are they like that? why are they a show? why are there sponsors? mentors? training? most of that questions aren’t thoroughly answered if we have katniss’ games in mind due to the huge time lapse. but you can see the seed.

in the trilogy, the inside of the games is really important, what’s going on katniss’ games is an immediate issue for her so we are completely immersed. In tbosas, it’s what’s going on outside the games what’s important. how they’re being made, how they’re impacting the lives of snow and his equals (clemmie, sejanus, his dead classmates…). we aren’t following this story with the tributes, but with the gamemakers. that’s what not being able to see the tunnels or hear most of the tributes’ conversations is highlighting. we’re following snow, so we have a distant relationship with the arena unless he’s there. the tributes aren’t important, but rather their impact on the capitol’s residents’ lives or on the gamemaking itself.

i think suzanne collins had a point to make when we can’t hear marcus’ last words, or when we can’t see what’s going on with lucy gray. we’re supposed to be beside snow the whole time, even if there isn’t a first person narrator. i think that this distance between us and the tributes contributes to their dehumanization and allows us to understand the games as a cold instrument of oppression -instead of a hot instrument of torture as we experience it with katnids-, as well as it feeds the suspense and anxiety for the reader, who’s going to be on the same page as snow.

this is something the film should have respected: we live these games as gamemakers, not tributes, we have to see the making, when the horrors are in disguise and not as explicitly horrific as in the games as the tributes live them.

#the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games #suzanne collins #coriolanus snow #katniss everdeen

16 notes · View notes

iavenjqasdf · 5 months

Text

⚠cleaned out🧼

“We’re going to clean you out now” are maybe the last words you typically wanna hear from someone holding a bottle of drain cleaner in one hand and a funnel steady inside your asshole rectum in the other, but here we are I guess.

I guess a bit of explanation is in order. I work in a law office and the main guy, the one whose name is on the building and everything, everything he says goes, and if it doesn’t, he has the laws of physics rewritten to make it go, and the time he spends waiting he bills directly to god.

He’s also really conservative, at least in terms of language and formalities and such. I don’t know about his politics, but I’ve seen other people wear rainbow things at office parties and stuff, so I think he might actually be pretty cool on that front at least.

But it probably was not the best idea to send me to deliver him a bunch of really big important fancy legal documents regarding the Fuchs case, mere minutes after my hardcore bong sesh in the company restroom to make my job as a human file explorer manageable for another 20 minutes, and expect me to NOT say something kinda regrettable.

But what do I know? I just used to work there.

Anyway this dude has this weird, almost like, S&M-ritual type way of doing things going on, because after I said my dumb shit and we got into a bit of a yelling match about whose orfices would be receiving elements of the “Fuchs” and how, exactly, he frowned and said he’d had enough of my filthy tongue, and had one of his private security guys grab me hold me down and another one unbuckle my belt and remove my pants and comical weed leaf print boxer shorts, and then he said something about cleaning my mouth out end to end and that’s when the funnel entered the equation (of my asshole).

So now we’re all caught up, and there they go, tipping an entire jug of drain cleaner into my bowels. Bottoms up!

I kinda don’t feel anything at first and I’m about to say that this whole bit kind of sucks, but then I feel an urge to burp, so I do, and it’s the worst most burning sensation I’ve ever felt rising all up along my throat, and then there’s another, and another, and another and another and another and the pain starts to get really bad and tears start coming outta my face and I start kicking my legs around to say “hey cmon man this isnt funny anymore” because my actual vocal cords are too busy panicking, and then he shoves (well, more like has one of his goons shove) a finger into my asshole right beside the nozzle and pull the rim out a bit to let more air in, so the cleaner drains into me faster and now I’m really starting to feel it mapping my guts out inside me in tunnels of fire, passages of hell snaking densely through my thorax region, everything is awash in burning agony and I start throwing up all sorts of things (mostly liquids) in an entire rainbow of colors that I didn’t even know I had inside of me, but again, here I am.

I’m really glad I took that bong hit because I’d probably be freaking out way more right now, otherwise.

Another mouthful of liquids, some of which used to be solids and also inside me just a moment ago, floods from my mouth onto the cold marble floor, sizzling and popping on the clean white stone as I cough and sputter and try to beg for mercy (still in a funny endearing stoner kind of way) but my entire throat and vocal cord area seems to be offline now so all I can make are wheezy gurgling wet sounds before I throw up another mouthful of #00ff00 tinted gut soup and GOD, godgodgod no fuck please no joke it hurts it reallyreallyreally hurts it huts real bad, it feels like there’s a hole a foot wide going all the way through all the parts of me that have all the important lifegiving bits and through the radiant glow of unending suffering and I guess they’re out of cleaner because they take the funnel out and let go of me and I fall on the floor where I will soon die, drowning and gasping in all the filth that’s draining out of me.

I actually last quite a while like that; the guy just sits back at his fancy mahogany desk and even puts his feet up on it like some asshole, his private baliffs or guards or whatever those goons are called return to his side like well-heeled dogs, and they all watch me in silence, flopping around in the caustic fluids trying to speak, trying to breathe, like a stupid dying fish, my insides melting out at each end, leaving me hollow.

I think at one point a secretary or another file clerk or someone walks in, and I stare up at them with my big pleading eyes, begging them to remove the stuff that’s melting me out, but they don’t even make eye contact, their dress shoes just step carefully around the puddles and rivers of gore I’m leaving all over this nice room as they attend to their business in a professional manner.

My dying gaze fixates on a hole in the ground right by my head. All those times I’d been up here before, I’d never asked why there was a drain in the middle of this office, but now I’m finally starting to understand.

It’s for cleaning up after people like me.

[AO3]

#📝#guro #ero guro #nsft #chemical cleaner #i hardly even know er!#standalone

11 notes · View notes

atomicbird101 · 5 months

Text

Happy Birthday, Butch.

Butch DeLoria x Lone Wanderer | 1,210 words Content warning: alcoholism, CPR mention

"Happy Birthday to me," Butch sarcastically cheers with a bottle of his mother's vodka to his lips. Another year of only two gifts from his best pals – a pack of cigarettes from Wally and novelty flask with the Tunnel Snakes logo etched onto it from Paul. All of his other "birthday presents" were given to him two days ago, (one of the many great things about being born so close to Christmas) and his mother is too drunk to even function, much less have prepared him a gift other than a halfhearted apology and a pat on the back. Birthdays are always so depressing for Butch DeLoria, and his sweet sixteen is no exception.

He's startled out of his night of drinking on his own, however, when he hears a knock on his door. Maybe one of his pals left something behind? However, he answers to find Robbyn Brake, the goody-two-shoes Poindexter herself at his doorstep with her hands behind her back.

“What do you want, Nosebleed?”

Robbyn instantly recoils at the stench of alcohol on his breath.

“Yeesh! Banner year, huh?”

“Yeah, well, unlike some people ‘round here, I don’t exactly get shit handed to me on a silver platter.”

She grits her teeth in annoyance at his instant hostility, as well as his presumptuous and condescending statement – however cruel his comment was, it at least got him out of seeing that expression he so hates: pity. And man does he hate seeing it from her.

“...I… know it’s your birthday, and, y’know, doing the math, it must not be the most wonderful time of the year – what with it being right after Christmas, and your mom, and–”

“Lemme stop you right there, geek. I know what you’re gonna say, and I don’t wanna hear it, so you can fuck off with that shit.”

“But I just–” Robbyn stutters an incomplete counter argument as she brings a freshly baked sweet roll out from behind her back and holds it out in front of her, causing Butch to freeze in his tracks.

“Is that a sweet roll?”

“Uh, yeah…?”

“Why?”

She’s caught off-guard by his question, but she quickly scrounges up a lie that Butch doesn’t believe for a second.

“I, umm, I made it, and there were too many, and, well…”

He raises an eyebrow at her, rolls his eyes, and says, “I know you’re full of shit, but I’ll take it anyway. Better not suck.”

She rubs the back of her neck as he takes it, and she decides to spill the truth after a relenting sigh.

“Look, I know we’re not friends or anything, and I don’t know why you hate my guts, but I do know you’re a miserable son of a bitch who’s more than likely alone on his birthday, and maybe nobody needs to be alone on their birthday. Not even pricks like you.”

There it is. That fucking pity in her eyes.

“I don’t need your God-damned sympathy, so cut that shit out.”

He takes a bite of the sweet roll, and much to his disdain, it’s fluffy, buttery, and overall incredible.

“Listen, man, I’m not asking you to bask in my sweet, saintly glory or whatever, and I’m not here to judge poor Butchie. I’m just dropping off a baked good and fucking off so you can jerk off or whatever it is you do on your birthday,” she says as she turns towards her own dorm.

Butch is savoring every bite of that delicious sweet roll, but pride forbids him from confessing that it’s the best damn thing he’s ever tasted.

“Whatever. Thanks for the pastry, loser.”

She lets out a curt sigh and turns back to face him.

"Y'know, I know you're angry – and don't get me wrong, you have a lot to be angry about – but I don't know why you always have to be such a dick. I know for a fact that you're not always a complete asshole. And I'm praying to God that you're too drunk to remember any of this in the morning, because if I'm being really honest, I kinda miss the Butch from three years ago. Not whoever this is." Her hand gestures all over the douche in the leather jacket before she shakes her head and starts to walk away again.

Butch freezes. His brow furrows and he suddenly looks extremely uncomfortable as he realizes exactly what she’s referring to – the time he gave her her first kiss. He's never brought the lip lock up before, but now she's dropped it, and she says she misses it? He isn't sure how to respond, and his prolonged silence causes her to think that he doesn’t remember, but he remembers that kiss – he remembers it well, since that was his worst birthday by far.

He had just turned thirteen and his mom had had to get her stomach pumped, and despite all the shitty things he'd done to Robbyn, she stayed outside the clinic in the hall to comfort him while her dad was administering CPR. She held his hand and gave him tissues, and as they were talking to keep his mind off of his mother's dangerous alcoholic binge, it came up that Robbyn had never been kissed. After all the kindness she showed him (not to mention her adorable eyes and freckles) he volunteered to be her first kiss. She was taken by such complete surprise that she couldn't do anything but nod her head and let him kiss her, and he held her like glass. This boy who used to pull her hair and push her around touched her so delicately, like he was scared of accidentally breaking her.

The way he held her that night still confuses the hell out of her to this day. They've literally fistfought numerous times since then, but she still thinks back to the time his touch was soft and hesitant, and she can't explain this ache in her chest when she thinks about it, but she knows she misses that tenderness. In all honesty, it was the first time she felt like she could be loved, and she's never been able to make sense of that feeling because it came from her damned bully.

Now she stands at her own door, entering the code to get into her apartment, and he's staring at her, no longer chewing the sweet roll she baked. He doesn’t get this girl. She’s the only gal who’s thought to stick up for him and be nice, but she’s also tough on him and kind of a brat. He’s racking his brain for some kind of witty remark or comeback, but all his sloshed ass can think of is finishing the roll and letting out a small belch.

She scoffs in disgust, then disappears into her dorm – and, if Butch listens very, very closely, he can hear a frustrated growl travel through her living room window. As he gazes after her, he starts to get overwhelmed by various emotions swimming in all that vodka: anger, confusion, and something…sadder. He doesn’t know what she means to him, but she means a lot, and he’s not sure he’ll ever be ready to tell her.

#fallout 3 #butch deloria #lone wanderer #butch deloria x lone wanderer #fallout #Robbyn Brake

19 notes · View notes

love-elizabeth · 1 year

Photo

What do animals do during prescribed fires? 🔥 This is a question that I’ve gotten several times when talking about how important fire is for the environment. 🐢 I am often talking about how important fire is for the plants in fire-adapted habitats, and I think people wonder if we’re helping the plants while hurting the animals in the process. 🐢 But the animals in these habitats have also adapted to live with fire! In fact, many species of animals start to decline without fire, and their populations improve when fire is reintroduced to the landscape. 🐢 So how do animals survive fires? Many of them are able to run or fly away from the area that is burning. 🐢 Then there are the animals that don’t want (or are unable) to flee the scene of the fire, and that’s where the gopher tortoise comes in, like the one pictured that I saw at @boktowergardens 🐢 Gopher tortoises build burrows underground, where they live and spend most of their time. But they aren’t the only animals who occupy these tunnels. 🐢 The number continues to increase as we learn more, but the most recent number I’ve seen is that 350-400 species use the gopher tortoise’s burrow. So when a fire comes through an area, you may find anything from rodents to snakes to owls hiding out with the gopher tortoise. 🐢 Like storms, flooding, tree fall, or any natural disturbance, there is always a chance that some animals may not survive. (Even a simple rain that brings life to most of an area may still kill an insect or two.) However, the overall goal is to make sure that an ecosystem has its overall needs met so that the life within it stays healthy and balanced, and fire is an incredibly important component in habitats that have adapted for it! 🐢 🔥 🌲 #wildlife #explorida #roamflorida #outsideisfree #tortoise #gophertortoise #turtle #lakewalesridge #pureflorida #florida #lovefl #nature #boktower #boktowergarden #floridascrub #fire #prescribedfire #polkproud #visitcentralfl @visitcentralfl (at Bok Tower Gardens) https://www.instagram.com/p/CpTqpD0uHUT/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#wildlife #explorida #roamflorida #outsideisfree #tortoise #gophertortoise #turtle #lakewalesridge #pureflorida #florida #lovefl #nature #boktower #boktowergarden #floridascrub #fire #prescribedfire #polkproud #visitcentralfl

34 notes · View notes

thebowerypresents · 10 months

Text

Queens of the Stone Age Keep Rock Alive on Saturday Night at Forest Hills Stadium

Queens of the Stone Age – Forest Hills Stadium – August 12, 2023

It was a fitting match for the old tennis grounds of Forest Hills, the Queens of the Stone Age in the heart of Queens. Saturday night brought along its summer best calm-before-the-storm weather, frontman (and rock elder statesman) Josh Homme giving the gathering crowd a queen-like wave, with a new gray beard that comes to a fine point. The greeting followed a welcoming kickoff run-through of the now classic “No One Knows,” the buoyancy of its impish guitar riffs setting the stage for the performance to come.

It's hard to position Homme’s charisma without pointing out how lacking it is from other rock bands, especially of late. The man is equal parts performer and musician, as apparent as ever on “Smooth Sailing,” Homme channeling the song’s lurching drive and launching an angular guitar solo as if he were wrestling a snake. The stop-and-start drive of “My God Is the Sun” felt like someone driving a car with one foot on the gas and the other on the brake. With wind gusts picking up around the same time, the thick smoke coming from machines was pulled into a tight breeze running across the stage. “Sometimes you love and sometimes you lose, and that’s OK,” said Homme, introducing “Emotion Sickness,” off their latest, In Times New Roman…. The tune put all three guitarists to work with dueling guitar riffs and three-part harmonies.

The best Queens of Stone Age songs come with heel-turn shifts in momentum. “If I Had a Tail” began pop-flavored before getting sucked into a noise-rock black hole. On “I Sat by the Ocean” Homme pulled out a glass slide, making it sound syrupy. The band’s current iteration is thick with guitar heavy hitters — and put to good use: A breakdown at the end of “The Way You Used to Do” sounded Allman Brothers-eque with guitars doubling up on each other and harmonizing. Homme polled the audience to see which new song, “Made to Parade” or “Time & Place,” they preferred, with the former eking out the win. It featured some of his best soloing of the night, hard to believe it was left to audience democracy on whether it would be played. The slow-burning QOTSA classic “Better Living Through Chemistry” followed, pausing before dropping and plowing through a final path of destruction. Next, the hard-hitting new single “Paper Machete” served as something of a resurrection.

Homme conducted a sensual sing-along for “Make It wit Chu,” having groups of the audience trade off the chorus before blues-riffing the song to a climax. “We’re not doing a fake encore where we make you clap for us, we want to stay out here with you,” he said. Forgoing the traditional encore, Queens of the Stone Age remained for three more: After “Little Sister” and “Go with the Flow,” the frontman offered, “Wait ’til you see what we have for you” as an introduction to “A Song for the Dead.” It brings such a relentless take-no-prisoners momentum, one would think the band would have welcomed a break to catch a sip of water before launching into the finale. One would also hope this song is exactly what dying feels like, with the brain spilling out every feel-good chemical it has as it sends the soul through an all-encompassing tunnel of sound and light. With the stage lights barraging the venue with flashes of white, the track deteriorating into noisy guitar feedback, it was a perfect end to the show. Rock ain’t dead — and even if it’s dying, being near death happens to sound fucking awesome. —Dan Rickershauser | @D4nRicks

Photos courtesy of Silvia Saponaro | @Silvia_Saponaro

#Allman Brothers Band #Dan Rickershauser #Dean Fertita #Jon Theodore #Josh Homme #Forest Hills Stadium #In Times New Roman #Michael Shuman #Photos #Queens of the Stone Age #Review #Silvia Saponaro #Troy Val Leeuwen

9 notes · View notes

wolfshadowhill · 5 months

Text

*during sex, puts it in*

We’re the the tunnel snakes that’s us we rule!

#fallout #tunnel snakes #meme #random #classic quotes #ineffable dumbasses #truly unhinged #these Words are not in the Bible #greasers #grease #fanfic #fallout 3

6 notes · View notes

kellshaw · 10 months

Text

Heads Up 7 Up

Tagged by @mthollowell-writes. You can find their original post here!

Soft tagging @saltwaterbells, @minutiaewriter, @valanke, @repressed-and-depressed, @missaddledmiss, @ladywithalamp @blackrosesandwhump (no obligation) and anyone who would like to take part!

Rules: Post 7 lines from your current WIP and tag seven people.

I’ve sent my of book two of my Revenant Records series to the editor for copy-editing! We’re nearly at the end of the writing tunnel. Time to celebrate with this tag game.

1 – Lukie Carpenter raced through the darkened streets of the Thunderhead Ward towards her father’s house, working out what to say to him after being dead for twenty years.

2 – “Look, I’m doing this all wrong. Can we start again? Please. I’ve come back from the dead. I’m a revenant. Like a zombie, but more awesome. I’m still me, and—”

3 – You’re a soul-sucking undead monster. Everything you touch turns to shit. Look at what you did to Dad.

4 – Life doesn’t work that way, sunshine, her patron’s voice echoed within. You don’t get do-overs. If you do, you’re in a death loop, or psychic mind trap and you’ll have worse problems to deal with than trying to perfect your existence.

5 – “The supernatural is like fire. It burns you and leaves scars you can’t get rid of. And yet people keep wanting to play with it.” A scowl marked his face. “Stay away from it for as long as you can.”

6 – A rent to Stonerise opened in the same place where Lukie had attempted her initial assault. The spectral storm wailed in Lukie’s mind, and a seething vortex of gray mist oozed from Tenebra into living lands. Beyond, the true shape of the realm manifested: a sanguine sky, a castle carved from pure darkness, and a sea of twisted, heaving, suffering bodies, torn apart by feral beasts.

7 – The cobbled path ahead snaked through rows of neat headstones, and the night breeze dislodged the thick heat that had hung over the suburbs during the day. Trees rustled, answering the wind in a secret language.

#tagged!#heads up seven up #writeblr #tumblr writing community #writing #urban fantasy #revenant records #fantasy writing

6 notes · View notes