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betterskatethannever · 1 year

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2022 best of

best parts

Nick Matthews - Venture x Uprise / Nike x HUF

Mason Coletti - RIGHT HERE FOR PABLO . Deep Fried Pescado

Eddie Cernicky - Deep Fried Pescado . RIGHT HERE FOR PABLO

Tiago Lemos - Primitive DEFINE.

Gustav Tønnesen - SOUR SOLUTION III

Leonardo Bodelazzi - Leozinho

Juan Virues - Hotel Blue pro ‘penthouse suite’

Cyrus & Max - Limosine Promaster . “Toes Down” . i just took a bite of dirt

Diego Todd - Hockey X

Braden Hoban - emerica Emerge

Tristan Funkhouser - Baker 420 . Deep Fried x Baker

Nyjah Huston - Need That . Shine On . “DISRUPTION”

Tyshawn Jones - “Play Dead” . KINGDOM COME . ‘The General’

Carlos Ribeiro - Primitive DEFINE.

Gilbert Crockett - DENIM CAR

Grant Taylor - Fantastic Voyage

Will Marshall - Alltimers You Deserve It

Lucien Clarke - LAUST IN TRANSLATION

Shaun Paul - DC ‘NorthUnda’

Noah Nayef - April

Elijah Odom - Alltimers You Deserve It . Andrew RASCAL

Brian Reid - Brian, Brandon & Will . DGK Zeitgeist

Shin Sanbongi - adidas

Jordan Trahan - Ace ‘Fais Low Low’

Bobby de Keyzer - Bobby

Brian Delatorre - Live & Direct

Vincent Milou - SOLO: You Changed

Jaakko Ojanen - Manana . E.S.P. vol. 2

Ryan Lay - DR in Color . Sci-Fi Fantasy

Myles Willard - Bones Bearings . ”Myles and The Machine”

Will Mazzari - Brian, Brandon & Will . DGK Zeitgeist

Marcello Campanello - Maxallure pro

Heitor da Silva - Vice Versa Love

Jake Wooten - Big Sky

Felipe Gustavo - CODE

Ishod Wair - REAL

Ish Cepeda - AD ASTRA

Louie Lopez - As You Wish . “Honor Roll” . FA, Again & Again

Danny Renaud - Brass Tacks

Silas Baxter-Neal - Portland Public Skating 3 . Burrow

Brian Delatorre - Habitat Live & Direct

Keiran Zimmerman - Jenny x Emerica

best full-lengths

Polar - Sounds Like You Guys Are Crushing It

Antihero - Fantastic Voyage

GX1000 - RIGHT HERE FOR PABLO

The Sour Solution III

Primitive - DEFINE.

Hockey X

Supreme - “Play Dead”

Alltimers - You Deserve It

Shake Junt - Shrimp Blunt

Bronze TV Channel 56

Element - E.S.P. vol. 2

Deep Fried - Pescado

Cafe - TENOR

Rassvet - “I Missed You”

Homies - Fun Raiser

DGK - Zeitgeist

Plan B - CODE

Emerica - EMPOWER

Bleach USA - “SPIKE”

Foundation - Splendor

best breakout parts

Vince Guzaldo - Bleach USA “SPIKE” . Immortality Research

Davide Holzknecht - Baglady. Pack Light . Hélas

Arthur Ribeiro - Vento Bravo

Blake Norris - FULLER HOUSE

Alan Bell - be honest

Johnny Cumaoglu - Mind How You Go

Joe Campos - Hockey X

Brian O’Dwyer - She’s Cheating

Shane Farber - CONS One-Star Pro x RIDING A HORSE NAKED

Jake Yanko - “MOSQUITO”

Christoph Friedmann - LOBBY DREAMS

Donovan Wildfong - Glue ‘wick & spit’

Marley Humphrey - “DIME BAG”

Jason Nam - carousel

Sam Fairweather - Indy Raw Ams

Shogo Zama - MAGENTAPES

best women’s parts

Breana Geering - Spitifre

Nelly Morville - Limosine Promaster . “Toes Down” . i just took a bite of dirt

Mariah Duran - Thunder

Adrianne Sloboh - Krux

Mami Tezuka - Blood Wizard “Destiny”

Nicole Hause - REAL

Reese Nelson - Birdhouse welcome

best independents

Tim Savage - Brian, Brandon & Will

Fritte Söderström - Jante 5:33 x Jante 11:00

Tor Ström - Is This The Place?

Gray Area: Push Button to Destroy the World

Mettz Quest 2 (nyc)

Eryk Burton - THE TALE OF A TOXIC KING (nyc)

Harry Bergenfield - She’s Cheating (Philly)

Nicolas Marti - be honest (nyc)

Neema Joorabchi - limp x okay then (nyc)

Jeff Cecere - Mind How You Go (nyc)

Felix Soto - “ANGEL” (LA)

Calvin Millar - THE SQUAD (Austin)

Emilio Dufour - MAL CIUDADANO (Uruguay)

My Favorite Things - 31 (Helsinki)

Andrew Meyer - flinch (Philly VX)

Widdip - RIDING A HORSE NAKED (ATL)

Viktor Kretsis - Down Low (Manchester)

gang international - WITH ALL DUE (DC)

Chris Mulhern - [untitled] 006 (Philly)

Leando Chocho - HANDYCAPS_2

Tyler Bamdas - V3

Alex Doyle - CLUB BANGERS 3 (Vancouver)

Portland Public Skating 3

DUPLEX 3 (West Palm Beach FL)

HITTIT 3 (Kopenhagen)

Tristan Warren - MONEY TIME (LA)

Zach Fuller - FULLER HOUSE (SF)

Get Lesta - Darling (UK)

James Morley - GOD BLESS (Toronto)

andres garcia - MILO (LA)

James Cruikshank - SENSIBLES (Paris)

Brian Hunter - SLANG (Long Beach)

Daniel Dent - faith in bro (LA)

best promo / medium-length / squad

Limosine - Promaster . “Toes Down” . i just took a bite of dirt

Free x Vans - Full Circle

The Union Square Video

Game On - Mark Suciu SOTY Trip

Chocolate - Upper Cruster

Primitive x Independent

Austin Bristow - LAUST IN TRANSLATION

eS Terminal 002

Bronze x DC What If God Said

Pangea Jeans - POCKET DIAL

adidas - The Sky Ain’t Falling

Pass~Port Nike

Internet Birthday ep.1

Thunder: Pleather Jacket

SCREWLOOSE - EXILE

Last Resort AB - Alv’s Angels

Thrasher Germany Vacation

RACKZ Gallery - Pandora

adidas Australia - Light Years

Sunday Hardware - LUV YA LOTS x x

Baglady - Pack Light

HUF x Thrasher Brazil

Sk8land Skateshop - Veinte

Cowtown - TWENTY FIVE

Am Scramble 2021

Girl - ‘Desesh Mode’ Euro Tour

CPH OPEN 2021

Poolroom - RUNNER UP

Brick & Mortar - Autumn

Maxallure “INT CIRCLE” . “Beautiful Thoughts”

Dime comp vol 7 - Alexis Lacroix

SLP - KARI

Vans - Scandis

Kadence - DAIS

WKND - BOTTLE NECK SEWAGE . Street Fighters 2 . Alan Gelfand High

WORBLE III: Rough & Tough

Tree skateshop x Delivxry Buenos Aires - TREENIDAD

THE VIOLET PROMO

Stussy - Car Pool

Frog x Thunder

another massive year in skateboarding. hope things are good in your world. tell your friends you love em & let’s persevere to make 2023 even better

extended youtube playlist here

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imagines-for-earthbread · 8 months

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preeeettpety petretyy pleaseeee give me lattefort....make them be nice and happy together idc give me a nice fluffy scenario

Roguefort came to her like the shadow of a wind, passing from window to window with the slow, meticulous ease of a stalking cat. To any attentive eye who saw them, they'd seem to be prowling, peering into one window after another with the intention to rob the homeowner of all that she had. They'd hate to inform them, then, that they had already stolen that which was most important to them.

Eventually one of the windows was cracked, the light was on: Roguefort clung to the trellis of vines that climbed near to the roof, leaning over to gaze in.

The bedroom was fairly lit, illuminated by both a candle on the nightstand and a lamp in the corner, providing fair reading light for the woman inside. She was dressed in a cozy-looking silken robe, the sleeves of soft pajamas peeking out of them, hair tied up in a loose bun behind her head. The side table she sat at was occupied with paperwork, likely from her professorial duties at the Parfaedia Institute of Magic--but instead of the papers, she read a book instead, her expression soft in the fairweather light.

Her smile brought a smile of their own to their face.

Carefully, Roguefort positioned themself, slinging the plastic bag onto their arm as they moved to rap lightly against the glass window. Latte Cookie looked up from her book at the first knock, smiled back at them on the second, and rose to her feet on the third, sliding a bookmark between the pages. She came up to them, posture loose and relaxed, and raised the window.

"Oh, goodness," she said, perching her elbows on the window sill and looking up at them, her eyes as sweet and loving as a doe. "To think that I'd be visited by Phantom Bleu themself at such a late hour. Oh, whatever am I to do? I've nothing of value to my name..."

"Nothing of value?" Roguefort teased, their heart skipping a beat in their chest. "My, that's such a shame for you to say that. Simply looking at you, I can firmly declare that to be an outright lie."

"Whatever do you mean?" she asked, tilting her head to the side.

The stars were out tonight, the moon full and bright. It shown down upon her, striking against her hair, giving it an unearthly, angelic glow that formed a halo of light all around her. Angel, they thought.

"A beautiful young lady--such as yourself--has much more to offer than merely trinkets and money. And certainly, you have something that I desire very, very much in this moment."

"Why come to my window, then, dear?" she asked: "Surely, you could have snuck inside some other way?"

"I couldn't." They shifted slightly, flexing the arm supporting their weight, easing some of the tension it held. "For I see you have it in your possession right now, as we speak. I've already stolen some of it: I intend to take much more, if you will allow me."

"And what might that be?"

"I've stolen some of your time, dearest one to my heart." Roguefort said this softly, leaning closer to the window, closer to her, leaning down. "If you would let me, I plan on stealing even more."

"You silly cookie!" Latte giggled, a pleasant sound that shivered in the air and left trills of delight singing through Roguefort's body. They felt the smile on their face lighten, easier now, the laugh inspired from her rumbling out of their chest in answer. "You've already stolen my heart, and now you're demanding my time!"

"Not for nothing, of course," they pointed out, lifting up the bag of food they've been holding onto. "I always leave my calling card, after all."

"Come inside, Roguefort, won't you?" Latte asked, stepping away from the window to make room for them, inviting them inside, so willing and trusting. "I'd hate to see you fall. Not when you've my heart still with you."

And inside they went, first passing over the bag of food to her, then easing themself inside first with their feet. It was slow and deliberate--there was no need to rush, no fear for the consequences of being caught. After all, his presence was already very much known, and if the look on her face when they stepped toward her and closed the distance was any indication--the way she lifted her head expectantly, closing her eyes as they leaned in--they would be welcome for many more visits to come.

They kissed her, soft and sweet. They always enjoyed doing this, stealing these kisses, even though they knew it wasn't really stolen so much as it was given. Just like the time that they 'stole', and the heart that they 'took'--all of it was given to them freely, under the one, sole condition that they take care of her heart as if it were their own.

When they parted, Latte lifted up her hands, taking their hat from their head and setting it on her own with a playful giggle. "You look beautiful tonight," they said, brushing a stray strand of hair hanging over her forehead.

"And you look enchantingly mysterious," she answered. "And very thoughtful, bringing me food. You're very sweet. I hope that you brought enough for the both of us, because I've been hoping to dine with you for some time."

They weren't intending on it: The food truly was mostly for her, so that she'd have some leftovers to bring with her to work for the next day or so. Exam season was fast approaching, and they heard that during this time of year, teachers were under much more stress than usual.

"You'd like me to dine with you?" they asked, putting a thoughtful hand to their chin. Latte hummed, nodding her head, eyelashes fluttering expectantly. "Very well, then. What kind of gentlecookie would I be to refuse the offer of a beautiful lady like yourself?"

"Now I'm the one stealing your time," she teased, her smile so wide that they crinkled the edges of her eyes. "Aren't I?"

#mod dark cacao writes #lattefort #latte cookie #roguefort cookie #latte x roguefort #roguefort x latte #fluff #romance #cookie run #cookie run kingdom #happy birthday

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cayden-grayson-mitchell · 1 year

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Well This Is New And Cute

Summary: When Carter Grayson gets badly Injured by Olympius in an intense battle and ends up Regressing to about 4, and the other Rangers stumble upon it completely by accident, will everything go well or will Carter Suppress his Regression or will he accept (I've never written a story like this one I'm about to do so please tell me if I did good with that)

Carter Grayson looked down at his right wrist as he felt it hurting. He was in the Aquabase Training Room, in front of the punching bag, wailing away at it, trying to dissolve the anger radiating off him from today's battle. Olympius had decided that it'd be funny to chuck him into the wall of the building on the corner of East Main Street which made him de-morph instantly, groaning in a bit of pain, he walks back to the Rescue Rover with Chad, Joel, Kelsey, Ryan and Dana, or rather limping because when he was chucked into the building so hard that his right foot got bent backwards and unfortunately was broken pretty badly, but Carter didn't seem to even register what happened as he limps into the training room, managing to convince the other Rangers, Ms. Fairweather and Captain Mitchell that he just landed wrong and was going to train to be able to strengthen his right foot up a bit. Dana nods, looking over at her Teammates, Father and Ms. Fairweather as he says that. "Okay. We'll be here if you need anything." Carter nods, limping off to his Quarters, going into his room, walking over to his closet, pulling out a gray zipper storage bin, (4th Image), pulling out his outfit (6th Image), changing into it, popping the blue Pacifier in his mouth while tugging on his socks, playing with his Blue Bunny (Dunno what Character that is. Lol), pulling out a pair of red Noise Canceling Headphones (4th Image), putting them on, pulling out his red LCD Writing Tablet (1st Image), drawing random stuff on it, giggling up a storm, wrapped in his fleece red snowflake blanket (6th Image). "Wook 'Look' Fuzzy. I dwew 'drew' ma team! Dey da bestest." He says, not hearing Ryan walk in to check on him. "Hey Carter, I was wondering if..." He trails off as Lil Carter turns around, eyes widen, a scream flying from his throat, hiding underneath his snowflake blanket, shaking as soft crying whines are heard. Ryan; confused on what's happening, runs out to get his and Dana's father; Captain William "Bill" Mitchell. "Dad. I. Um. Need you to come with me. It's Carter. Once you see it; I think it'll be easier for you to understand what I'm trying to tell you." He says, leading Will to Carter's room (Will knows about Age Regression because he's helped a few people out who are Regressors.) Walking into Carter's room, Will smiles softly, walking over to Carter. "Hey bud. What's got you so upset there? It's okay, it's me Captain Mitchell." Carter sniffs a bit, telling him what happened. "Ahh. I see. Stress from the fight, you're hurt and scared. Well, that's okay, I think we'll be able to fit you in at the MedBay and see if we can have Dana take a look at you, okay? After that; you might need a cast for your leg, but it'll be okay. I'll let the Rangers know what's going on in case Lil Carter makes more Appearances." Carter shyly nods, packing his stuff into his Little backpack that kinda resembles the White Bunny Stuffy that he has, Blue Pacifier still in his mouth as he hops off his bed, walking with William to the MedBay to where Dana is as Will explains what's going on to Dana. Upon hearing this, Dana smiles, helping Carter onto the table, taking a look at his foot. "It's definitely broken. I'll need to put it in place to cast it up. Carter, I'm going to give some medicine to help you sleep so I can fix your foot up. But if I do it and you're awake, it will hurt a lot, so I need to put you to sleep so it won't hurt. Don't you worry; Ryan and Dad will be here, it'll be okay." After getting a Non-Verbal okay in the form of a nod; Dana gets the Anesthetic Gas set up, gently placing the mask on Carter's face, placing his Pacifier on the clip of his shirt so it's not lost when he wakes up, counting from 10 to 0; Carter's now fully asleep for Dana to place Carter's foot back in the correct place in order to cast it up properly.

Time Skip to after the Surgery because I'm not good with writing Surgeries in Stories and the Other Rangers and Ms. Fairweather were Informed of Carter's Age Regression by Captain Mitchell

After a while; Carter wakes up, strongly coughing due to a very sore throat. Not seeing anything or anyone due to there being a curtain pulled over; Carter starts accidently giving himself a Panic Attack; softly screaming and crying.

Upon walking past the MedBay and hearing Carter crying; Joel runs in, seeing Lil Carter in the Bed, screaming, Crying and coughing, he gets a small cup of water and cough medicine, helping Carter take the medicine, he also helps Carter drink from the cup, calling Dana on his Morpher to tell her what's happening. A few moments later, Dana walks in smiling. "There's the brave Fireman. You stayed asleep the whole time and I fixed your foot up good as new. I was making sure everything was able to accommodate to your wheelchair seeing as you're a bit too little to use crutches right now. I'll check you over and see if we can get this icky IV out and maybe if you are lucky; Uncle Joel will bring you to the Rec Room." Joel can't resist being called Uncle Joel to Carter; reaching out, holding the Little's right hand as Dana's checklist is done as she goes to remove the IV from his hand (I've had it happen but luckily I was out for the IV going in so I didn't feel it, which is how Carter got it in his left hand)

Dana nods, hearing Carter's soft pained whines. "I know it hurts sweetie, I'm sorry. But I've good news; it's out and I added a cotton ball to the hole so you don't have to see it. And once we get you into your wheelchair you need a seatbelt on, just to be safe." Joel smiles, hugging Carter. "Guess what Little Man? You were so good, that I think Blue's Clues is on TV. The one with Joe. I'll see if we can get there in time for it to start." He said, helping Carter get in to the wheelchair, buckling him in, wheeling him into the Rec Room, smiling as he sees Chad and Kelsey already there, the TV on a Blue's Clue Channel and it paused so it doesn't start yet. "Aww. There's our Lil Red Leader. How'd it go? He good?" Chad asks as a smile forms on his face, seeing Carter Regressed in the wheelchair.

Dana nods. "He's feeling a bit better. All casted up and excited to be with his friends."

Carter smiles, as Kelsey helps him out of the wheelchair, sitting on the cushion, propping his leg up on a pillow, gasping in awe at how he curls up to her, giggling. "Hewwo big Sissy!" Kelsey softly lets a whine of awe out as she's just been chosen as Little Carter's Big Sister and she loves it. Looking at Dana and Chad, he grins. "Big Broda!" Turning to Dana, he smiles more as he says "Aunty Dana!!"

#dana mitchell #ryan mitchell #william mitchell #Chad Lee #Joel Rawlings #Angela Fairweather #carter grayson

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iamthepulta · 2 years

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🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹!!

‘Relief’ was the wrong word to describe how Westlie felt after a week of living with Lizzie on their own. A weight had been lifted from her chest, but now she was seeing for the first time too. It was like she’d put on magic glasses and the world was suddenly full of roses with thorns. She was still stuck walking through the briars. But she could touch them. She could see them. There was no Arthur trimming off the flowers whenever she got close; no Mary to tease her about every invisible cut and tear. When she scraped a thorn, she bled- and she could feel the pain now, watch the blood run down her arm, feel the determination course through her to reach the rose again. Challenges didn’t seem like they’d be freeing, but she was making the choice to chase them, she was the one in control; the world had moved on from the events of last week and she was left a changed woman in an unfamiliar city; the chains were gone, she was just… Westlie.

The first day of her new job, Westlie woke up, dressed, and started to pull up her hair up from habit when her arms hesitated. There wasn’t a mirror in the little apartment, but she could imagine herself as she stared at the wall: slender, pale, nervous, a curl of red hair over her right cheek; the vest, the skirt, the defiant chin; frightened eyes, sister-less, a guardian, a runaway; free. She wasn’t Westlie from Fairweather anymore and she didn’t want to look it. Free. Westlie’s arms ached a bit, but she didn’t move, just holding the word in her heart.

She was free, wasn’t she? That thing, that word she’d worked to secure for Morgan her whole life- that dream she’d fantasized for Lizzie- she was free to decide whether they should stay or move, free to work for Jamison or any other company, any other goal. She could be a navigator if she wanted. She had the license. She could do it. She could try.

Old-Westlie, the woman in the mirror with the long curls, the hand with the hairpins, with the practiced, ruthless efficiency- that was the person she had been. Westlie made her way over to her carpet bag in a haze. She had a little travel sewing kit with thread scissors. She took them out and raised them to her hair, chopping a curl off at neck length before she could process what she was doing.

She immediately saw herself in the mirror again, caught in the act, scissors raised like a shield, lop-sided, frightened, new. Like a sculpture she couldn’t see the final form of, even in her mind’s eye. She didn’t want to be the same, but it was terrifying to change. Old-Westlie was a coward, she thought to herself. Old-Westlie might still be with Arthur if she hadn’t run with Lizzie; angry, sulking, bitter, but there. It was Morgan who bought their freedom this time. ... Where was Morgan? Westlie hacked at her hair until it was all the same length and she looked in the imaginary mirror again.

Short, curly, red, pale; brown eyes, chewed lips. … she didn’t feel free now, she just felt… she felt… Not-Westlie, and she didn’t know if that was good, or bad, or wrong, or right, or if she was just a woman trying so hard to grab the roses she saw, she didn’t care how many thorns cut her skin.

Arthur would say she looked unprofessional. Westlie swallowed and tucked a curl behind her ear. Arthur would say she wasn’t worth the work she did. … But Arthur wasn’t here, was he? He was gone and the no-longer heir to Fairweather was left standing in shoes she didn’t know how to fill. She could do it though. Westlie whispered confidence to herself in the imaginary mirror, trying not to think of the shoddy apartment and the stench of honey she’d never be able to get out of her nose. She could do it because she had a new job and a new employer, and she would find Lizzie a new apartment and she was going to make it wonderful because Lizzie should be free. And it started here; it started now, with New-Westlie.

New-Westlie took a breath, softly tapped Lizzie’s nose while she slept in, and stepped out into the musky, London briars to gather some roses.

-=-

Really want to thank you for this one because it kicked my butt into adding to Chapter 17. I’m stuck on getting started, lol. This helped get me into the headspace. :)

#liztlie au #westlie #ask #Loved this! I don't really know how it'll fit into the larger chapter but it's a start. Also I'm sorry if you were hoping for different #characters #Couldn't really get into the headspace of the others at this moment #Jamison would have been interesting #but idk how to work his narrative in #this chapter is technically simple; I just need to introduce Jamison #his goals #show London dissolving into chaos; show westlie and lizzie's new life #show westlie's new job #show Lizzie searching for Morgan #and it's totally achievable all in one chapter lol #maybe I do need to break it down lol #I feel bad that it's not a continuation of Landlady Rowe because Rowe SHOULD get more screentime but that was supposed #to segue into Morgan... doing... something... that Rowe sees #but I'm not sure what that is and if I want it. But it would just be narratively cool and I love the idea that Rowe is just minding her own #business and the Faire sisters are tearing down London in the meantime and Rowe looks at little Lizzie like- Do you want a sweetmeat?#I'm in love with characters who exist as narrative framing #I guess lol

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a-chihuahua-named-poopoo · 3 months

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PooPoo was a highly intelligent, well mannered, adorable, amusing, CrAzY, A.D.D., 😇+😈, happy, playful, energetic, loving, kissy, CrAnKy, naughty, fairweather, Tit-Bag, NO FEAR, people hating, spoiled ass rotten Chihuahua that lived in Dallas TX. He is probably best known for being "the most angriest dog in the world", there's no doubt everyone at some time has seen the memes other people made from a pic grab of him somewhere.

PooPoo had 2 brothers, whom you'll see here, his "Big Fat" older brother, GanKster, who lived to be 15, an his adopted brother, Chippy Cornelius, who is now not only the dominant Alpha in the fam, but is now 18 yrs old as well! Chippy battled with a years long depression after PooPoo's passing, so I brought him home a new "friend" to bond with, Flash. Although Flash is the sweetest boy ever, Chippy was not interested, more offended if anything... It was a very sad thing to bear, because when I lost PooPoo, I lost Chippy too. But sometimes, things just happen outta nowhere for a reason, and it wasn't long after that the world bestowed upon me a 5 week old crackhead of a Chihuahua, whose mother refused him. As much as Chippy fought his caretaker urges, he succumbed to them and took it upon himself to watch over, teach and protect this new little baby... who after a few days of his mighty screaming, had earned the name BanChi. Chippy starting the healing process and came out of his depression as all his attention was now on this super hyper baby he had to raise. The two of them are a bonded pair, and it is now BanChi who watches over Chippy! If he sneezes, he gets up immediately to check on him, he doesn't leave his side when they go outside, making sure he is safe and makes sure he doesn't get lost and he even snuggles him when he's cold. Chippy has accepted Flash, but it's nothing more than tolerance, LOL. BanChi and Flash play together all the time and are more playmates than anything. So, that is the whole story. I started this Tumblr for PooPoo, when he was 13 at the time. I've kept his Tumblr active as a way to memorialize the legend that he was & to keep him and his memory alive. Since his passing, I've entered him in various photo contests and to my surprise, has placed in the top 3 and even won the cover photo placement for a magazine! My angry little boy still lives on, he has to, because he was... IS, my EVERYTHING, and he is what still keeps me going. I do from time to time, post throwback pics or vids of him, or some I forgotten about and find by accident... He was such a weirdo... But BanChi ranks right up there with him, he's like a PooPoo 2.0! And honestly, at times I can't help but wonder how is it he is soooo much like PooPoo...

Please scroll thru the OLDER CONTENT as there are many EPIC pictures & videos of him in costume, acting out, arguing with himself under a blanket, dancing and talking!!

THANKS FOR VISITING!

👍 🔁 🔎

#dogs of tumblr #chihuahuas of tumblr #chihuahuas #dogs #cute dogs #dog life #cuteness overload #dogs are people too #rainbow bridge #dog story

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lastchancevillagegreen · 1 year

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Saturday, 8 April 2023:

Good Shave Baby Bird (no label, self released) (released in November 2022)

The UK is able to mail out of country once again (a ban was enforced in November just as this album was being released by Stephen Jones) which means this album finally lands in the US.

Stephen Jones, the abbreviated version, mind you, is the man once upon a time known as Baby Bird (not to be confused with the band Babybird which was also Jones only with a band), a master of lo-fi and the Bedroom Sound. From 1995 to 1997 he released self released five albums that were the pinnacle of lo-fi (discounting another master of lo-fi Guided By Voices who reigned prominent in the 90s for this record lover): I Was Born A Man, Bad Shave, Fatherhood, The Happiest Man In The World and Dying Happy. This was before the internet exploded and I bought at least two of these five lo-fi jewels through chat rooms for exorbitant prices. I paid $80 for Bad Shave to be shipped from Paris, France, wondering if I would actually see it arrive, after all Paypal didn’t exist and debit cards had not yet been birthed. I sent a money order (I was King of the Money Orders in the 1990s) off in hopes it would pay off and of course, it did. Before the internet, people didn’t rip you off and they followed through because a record collector was a record collector was a record collector (insert eye rolling whistling emoji here).

Today, the internet destroys lives and it enhances lives (see A Tale of Two Cities) and for Stephen Jones, he can actually almost make good money on the music he makes in his bedroom by going directly to those fans who love his music. No longer relying on kind hearted collectors in Paris, France I can dial up Stephen on bandcamp, tell him what I want, send him the money through the magic of the modern world and presto chango it arrives in my mailbox! What could be simpler? For fans it is a heaven that actually exists, for musicians like Stephen it is a never ending job. Not only must he write the music, record it, produce it and mix it (maybe) he must also design the damn digipaks, put them together, buy an endless supply of CD-Rs (and in some instances actual pressed silver CDs), have plenty of packing envelopes, go to the post office, mail this stuff (and spend a fortune on postage for the entire world, because he has a generous supply of fans worldwide). For the likes of Mr Jones this is a never ending job. Remember when you wanted to be a musician? It sounded so perfect: make records, sell records, drink too much, drug to much, have too much sex and live in Heaven. But the internet giveth and the internet taketh away. Today’s musician must endlessly bust his tired exhausted imagination especially if he is a self contained industry like Stephen Jones is.

And then he has fairweather fans such as myself who don’t buy everything he puts out. And trust me, this guy never stops. He’s like a never sleeping shark, he must be glued to his social media and laptop. He sends out 40 tweets/messages a day and he must put out an album a month. In 50 years when virtually everyone reading this tumblr is dead and gone, who will tend to Stephen’s discography page? How messed up and full of errors will it become?

Good Shave is a companion album to his 1995 Bad Shave album. The songs, according to our man, come from the same grab bag from which he chose to compile Bad Shave from: all demos, all lo-fi, all composed and performed and sung by himself. No one else is reissuing these albums so Stephen might as well make his house payment and his daughter’s tuition however he can. I do not begrudge the man one thin dime. I just can’t buy everything he does. (Today I counted 303 releases on his bandcamp page! 75 rows of four albums plus one row of three albums. The man is a machine.)

Above you see the cover and the back cover. Below, check out the gatefold taken in two shots. The first shot is the left hand side of the digipak as it would appear when it is opened up. The second photo is of the inlay tray on the right sans the CD which would normally sit in said inlay tray.

The next photo is of the CD itself. Keep in mind this is a CD-R which means in about a decade or less, if it is like my Dylan bootlegs that came out on CD-R, they will stop working and I’ll have nothing left but the memory of this music. Isn’t modern life full of miracles?

I am going to be on those people who foul up poor Stephen’s discog page because he included a bonus CD with Good Shave. It is obviously not his work since the title is Not Stephen. If I recall correctly, a fan made an album of covers and sent it to Stephen who liked it so much he included it as a bonus disc here. At least I think that’s how the story goes.

Below you will find photos of the original Bad Shave album from the cover to the gatefold to the back. Remember, this once lived in Paris, France, a place I can only dream of.

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irvinenewshq · 2 years

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SA URC groups elevating customary of attacking play and athleticism Ospreys coach

Ospreys coach Toby Sales space. (Picture by Chris Fairweather/Getty Pictures) As his facet prepares to host the Stormers in Swansea on Friday, Ospreys coach Toby Sales space believes the South African groups have improved the standard of the United Rugby Championship (URC). All 4 SA franchises are within the prime half of the 16-team URC desk, having gained 10 of their 12 matches towards European opposition within the 2022/23 season. Defending champions, the Stormers, have bagged most factors after securing late bonus factors of their respective victories over Connacht, Edinburgh and Zebre. Sales space’s Ospreys lie ninth on the desk with one win and a draw from 4 video games, so they’re bracing for a tricky outing on Friday night time. “I believe the involvement of the South African groups and the best way they play means you’ll be able to’t get away with sure issues that you just most likely received away with [in the past] and you have to be higher at sure facets,” Sales space instructed the official URC web site. “They’re elevating the usual of, for instance, attacking play and athleticism. So I believe the problem for us all is to try to meet and match that as a result of they are going to have good set-piece, they are going to be defensively sound and the best way they’re arrange lends itself extra to an attacking recreation. I believe the inclusion of the standard of these South African groups has definitely meant that everybody has received to embrace that kind of type and be higher at it themselves.” Sales space added that it was welcome to see some high-scoring encounters to open the season. “I believe folks have positively needed to be optimistic. Chatting with coaches, I get a basic sense that individuals wish to be optimistic, so I believe there is a mindset component to it. It is not simply in our competitors, if I look throughout completely different competitions, there have been excessive scoring video games.” He did, nevertheless, categorical concern on the involvement of the tv match official (TMO) that has seen matches drag on. “I believe folks need the sport to hurry up, which is why the largest animosity I hear in several circles is round size of time on TMO choices, stoppages and groups that wish to gradual the sport down. “We’ve got to just accept that we are attempting to supply leisure and pleasure, not simply play a recreation of rugby, and which means making the sport faster, with much less stoppages in it and preserving tempo. “We’ve got had a few first halves which have gone near 55-60 minutes in precise period. In fact, a few of that’s damage and you’ll’t legislate for that, however there’s nonetheless quite a lot of useless time within the recreation and the extra we will quicken it up the higher. “The perspective of the groups appears to be extra edging in the direction of that approach and I believe we are going to get a greater product, higher video games and in consequence higher leisure.” Friday’s Ospreys v Stormers conflict kicks off at 20:35 (SA time). Originally published at Irvine News HQ

#Irvine News HQ

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queerwrock · 2 years

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Wrock serving queer vibes

Bathroom Reading by Ariel Factor Birdoff

Being Me by Totally Knuts

Geek Out by The Weirdos Are Out

Happy Birthday, Tom! by Undesirable #1

Happy Dementor by Pottörhead

Hide No More by Luna’s Ceiling

HufflePride (ft. Dandy Decadence) by Ariel Factor Birdoff

I’m A Wizard by RiddleTM

I’m In Love (With a Gryffindor) by Luna (Not) Lovegood

Living For by Tonks & the Aurors

Longbottom by Tonks & the Aurors

Lost and Found by Lauren Fairweather

Love Cannot Be Sorted by Ashley Aisyah Hamel

Love Will Get Us There by Hawthorn & Holly

Magical by Hogwarts Therapist

Phoenix Song by Totally Knuts

Protego by Totally Knuts

R-E-S-P-E-C-T by Gordie and the Lachances

Surprise Party by Love Wrocks

The Bathroom of Requirement by Pottörhead

The Love You Seek is All Around You by Potterwatch

The Weapon by Harry and the Potters

Under the Stairs by Mopey Merope

What’s Under the Bag by Ludo Bagman and the Trash

Where I Belong by Kwikspell

Masterlist

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atomicwrongs · 2 years

Photo

OC exercise: their Signature Scents!

AKA: Mentally sniffing my characters for 10 minutes

(ID: An assortment of characters, with notes beneath each one listing how they smell, mixing both positive and negative elements of their scent. More description is under the readmore. End ID.)

DULWITT: Cedar, citrus, and antibacterial hand soap. Slightly woody but very clean and sharp.

TORI: Jasmine, coffee, ylang ylang and bergamot. Almost unbearably delicious; smoky, sexy and not subtle.

FAIRWEATHER: Pavement, rain, ozone and mango. Very natural and slightly nostalgic.

LEGS: Smoke, ash, black pepper, leather. Hearty and deep, but not cloyingly smoky.

ALUCIN: Posies, lillies, and hospitals. Floral and delicate, but with the cool undertone of medical supplies.

RUFFLEZ: Parma violets, spraypaint and tangerines. Artificial and powdery, slightly chemical, but with a citrusy backnote.

AMITY: Wet fur, cleaning supplies and green apple. She’s trying to smell her best, but she is a big chemically-mutated rat.

RED: Blood, sweat, milk chocolate. Emphasis on the blood. She smells STRONGLY of dried blood.

SONIA: Juniper, brown sugar and new car seats. Dry, fresh scents, mature and slightly playful, far from overwhelming.

FINCH: Wildflowers, fresh cut grass and whiskey. She mostly smells like a book of pressed flowers; natural and peaceful, with warm heartnotes.

SPARKY: Chlorine, peppermint and grapefruit. A zesty, weirdly fresh tone beneath very artificial ‘laboratory’ smells.

POISON PEN: Rose, geranium, sweat, poison and ink. A very strange blend of sophisticated floral scents, heady hot notes and the caustic sting of chemicals.

IDOL: Metal and banana-flavoured chalk. Mostly metallic, with hints of joint lubrication, but with a bizarre afterscent of dry faux-fruit candy.

KILLICK: Salt, seaweed, grilled fish and lime. The restaurant’s smell clings to him, and it’s not all bad. Very coastal, slightly citrusy.

KIBBY: Oak moss, cinnamon and blackboard duster. Dry and a little powdery with mature woody topnotes.

HAZEL: Praline, pear and zesty blackcurrant tart. Intensely playful and tasty, with suggestions of classy feminine perfumes.

PRESTO: Fireworks, cumin, frankincense and marshmallow. Mostly sweet and a tad smoky, with fragrant spicy tones. A mixed bag that can be a little nauseating.

#thoughts.txt #ocs tag #tabletop tag

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mchalowitz · 4 years

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the woman is the king

summary: a throughline of the matriarchal scullys; be they ethereal, sharp-witted, and ill-omened.

this is a revamped version of my unfinished wip chain reaction. some of it will be familiar but don’t worry, there’s plenty that’s brand new. it’s been a minute and i wanted to give the idea what it deserved. i’m hoping to post a new part every friday for the month of october! so with that we have

part 1: melissa

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Her door is barely open enough for a hushed conversation.

“It’s Friday night, Mulder.”

Scully keeps attempting to have a separation between work and home. After the underwhelming experience with Rob, she is sure Mulder is aware of this; that she wants to have a semblance of a personal life, even if she is dedicated to their cases. He is making it prove difficult, with his work and his interests so intertwined. It never ends.

“I know, but these reports just came through,” he insists. “You need to see them before…”

A cacophony of flatware and curse words comes from the kitchen. Scully continues to stare up at him, unperturbed, but Mulder’s eyes flash upward over her head. Behind his eyes, he is creating a story; putting together puzzle pieces that do not exist.

“Got a date in there, Scully?”

A female voice, its volume raising in comparison to the muttered expletives, calls, “Dana, is that the pizza?”

“My sister,” she corrects.

Scully has seen Mulder reserved in the face of criticism, but he seems sheepish, maybe even embarrassed, at the idea that his obsessive nature was exposed to this audience. She finds the bashfulness radiating from him to be endearing in a boyish sort of way.

He gives her the stack of papers held together with a binder clip. Not one of the small ones, no, one of the big ones meant for thick analysis that will take an entire weekend to sift through. “Just look them over when you get a chance,” he tells her.

She nods, and when the door is shut, Melissa appears behind her like a graceful apparition. “Working on a weekend,” she marvels. “Sounds like someone else I know.”

“Shut up.”

“Are you going to ask him out?”

Scully turns away, retrieving her wallet from her purse, and starts counting out bills for their soon-to-arrive dinner. “It isn’t like that with Mulder, our relationship is professional,” she babbles. “I already got caught up dating in the bureau before and people that really matter in the FBI are finally starting to see my value after two years of paying my dues at the Academy, I’m not going to jeopardize my future by consorting with my partner.”

"Consorting?” Melissa retorts. “Come on, Dana, be honest. If he were just a guy on the street, would you?”

She thinks. Mulder is ambitious, brilliant, and has an unrivaled sense of humanity. His dedication is frighteningly thrilling. It gives her an enthusiasm to strive for more.

Scully realizes the list could go on. Mulder’s positive qualities are more than can be said about most of the men she’s been involved with and in only a short amount of time knowing him.

Yes, she probably would. If he were just any guy.

The doorbell rings.

“No.”

Exiting the elevator, Mulder has anticipation in his step. His keys are already out and he hopes he’s beaten Scully to the door. It’s her first day back in the office.

And after interviews, and doctor’s approvals, and signatures, she’s been fully cleared to be back in the field. Fearing desk duty or reassignment, both of them are quietly ecstatic that they can pick up their work.

He nearly jumps when he sees a flash of copper in front of the door. Damn. But then he notices it’s attached to an unfamiliar head on a taller body. It’s Melissa.

“How did you get down here?” he asks, no introductions. Melissa steps aside so he can unlock the door. He invites her in with a wave of his hand.

“You would be surprised how far you can get with some kind words and a good explanation,” Melissa says. She runs his hand over the books on top of a filing cabinet. She looks over her shoulder at him. “Something to consider for the future, Mulder.”

He continues to stare.

“I told security I had an appointment with you. No one argued,” she smiles, almost amused with herself. “Dana tells me we’re very similar. With all of our ‘wild ideas.’ You know what wild ideas I have, Fox? The concept that my sister can go to work and no one has to worry that they’ll never see her again.”

Scully knows the risks of the job, Mulder wants to say. Do you really think I get a vote on the decisions she makes?

“I care about Dana.”

“Then you’ll go easy on her.”

He nods, even though it’s a lie. He wants it to be the truth. The question isn’t whether he’ll go easy on her or not. He already knows, and he believes Melissa does too, that Scully will only push harder if he tries to lighten her load.

When Melissa leaves with a warning glare, Mulder shuffles papers until Scully arrives with Dr. Pierce. He promises himself that he will not be compelled by whatever this guy presents to him. Above all else, they will not take this case.

Listening to the tale of something possibly wandering around in temperatures of 130 degrees, he repeats not interested to himself, even though he is really, really interested.

“I want to work.”

He reminds himself of his conversation less than an hour ago.

Lead investigator is not a title Mulder takes that seriously. He has never been able to successfully sway Scully in her beliefs and pulling the authority card doesn’t seem like a tactic that would go over well. And while it’s a fact he will keep to himself, in her absence, he sees how utterly incompetent he can be without her.

He’s got an angel and a devil on his shoulders, two dueling Scully sisters. He suggests time off anyway.

“I’ve already lost too much time,” she replies. Oh, that guts him. She knows how easily convinced he can be with some good poetic phrasing.

It won’t be a very intense case. Probably just watching that same footage, giving some opinions on the evidence. It’ll end up being something they can toss to another, more equipped agency. The explanation soothes him enough to not block the door when Scully leaves to pack a bag.

Lying in a month-long quarantine, he has a lot of time to wonder by what means Melissa Scully will kill him.

Mulder toes the line between agnosticism and fairweather judaism; a fact that Scully has always respected, and never pushed back against.

He normalizes empty pews and suspicious clergymen. The sea of mourners for Melissa Scully is a foreign sight.

Guilt feels like a target on his back and he hopes no one will shoot the proverbial arrow, hoping for a bullseye. Or maybe he does.

He sits right behind the reserved row and his eyes follow Scully as she walks gracefully up the aisle. She once described her sister as ethereal to him, a gossamer darling, but in her sorrow, it is she, it is Dana, that is the diaphanous messenger of all that is holy and light in the dark.

Scully doesn’t acknowledge him as she sits. He averts his eyes when he briefly meets the eyes of Mrs. Scully. Behind her crow’s feet and unwaveringly maternal gaze, he sees Dana, he sees Melissa.

The priest tells the legend of Melissa Scully that Scully never divulged to him. She studied anthropology at Brown and spent two years on an archeological dig in Peru. In her thirty-three years, she lived in four different countries, but felt a special connection to her teenage years in California. It is possible she cared more for her community than for herself, she appreciated art in all of its forms, and she loved writing letters to her beloved sister, Dana, while she was away at medical school.

Almost imperceptibly, Mulder sees the sharp raise of her shoulders, the sudden intake of breath. Her hand covers her mouth. He reaches forward and places his hand on her shoulder. She lays her hand over his.

“The dynamic presence of Melissa Scully is a gift to the Lord,” the priest finishes. “Let us bow our heads in silent prayer.”

Mulder wonders how Scully even allows his presence in the same space as her, allows him to breath the same air when they both know he is the reason her sister is dead. This stupid, this idiotic pursuit of his, that ruins lives with no remorse, and yet he remains powerless to surrender.

#the x files #xf fic #fox mulder #dana scully #melissa scully #i'm so nervous to post this!!!!#if i'm being totally honest

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justjessame · 3 years

Text

Starting Over Chapter 12

“Brooke?” I shook my head when I heard Connie’s voice on the other end, the sounds of cartoons playing in the background told me she was home. “Are you alright?” The worry in her voice made me feel guilty for not calling more often, or checking in at least.

“I’m fine, worrywart.” I settled into my spot on the couch, smiling as I caught a whiff of Bucky’s scent. “I -” I took a deep breath and bit my lip. “I’m sorry I haven’t -”

Connie shushed me. “Stop,” I closed my mouth, worried that she was going to tell me that she didn’t have time for fairweather friends and that she had a family to take care of now. “You don’t have to explain anything to me, Brooke.” It felt like my heart restarted. “I can’t imagine how you must have felt coming back.” I heard a rustling in the background and then the noise that had sounded like cartoons went away and it got quiet. “Sorry about that, Bryn wanted to watch Tangled again.”

I smiled, my goddaughter, or she would have been if I’d been here to do the honors was three years old. “Tangled is a good one.” I was happy that Connie was willing to talk to me, that she was willing to make time, even if I’d pushed her away. “Is that her favorite?”

Connie laughed and I was happy to hear that it was as familiar to me as my own. “She likes all of the princesses. Joey is thinking we’re going to have to push up the trip to Disney by a year.” I was grinning at the thought of Joey Amoruso playing girl daddy through the Magic Kingdom. “Don’t worry, I made sure she got to see Beauty and the Beast, too.” That got a laugh out of me.

“I can’t help loving Belle,” I argued, and listened to her snort. “How’s your mom?” Connie worked at her mom’s beauty salon, she’d started as soon as she was tall enough to reach around a customer’s head into the sink to wash their hair and after high school didn’t blink about going straight into cosmetology school.

“You know Mertle,” her mom’s name was Ismerelda, but some hard of hearing old lady had misheard it once and called her ‘Mertle’ to our forever hilarity. I laughed. “She makes me do Mrs. McGillicutty’s hair now, every damn week, just because she got tired of doing the same style over and over.” I remembered Mrs. McGillicutty, she was a sweet lady, but a little dotty. “Today was my half day, Bryn’s preschool runs a half day every other day.”

“Who keeps her on the off days?” I got up to grab a drink and listened as Connie told me all about the nightmares of finding childcare, even with an extended family like hers. Falling back into the type of conversation that two friends have, if one had gone away for a while. I grabbed a glass of water and my eyes landed on the flowers that Bucky brought me, a smile finding its home on my lips again, I sat down at the table and talked to Connie while I pulled the vase closer and played with the petals.

Before we said our goodbyes, a good hour and a half after we’d started talking, Connie finally asked the question that I knew she had to have been burning with since she saw my name appear on her phone screen.

“Not that I don’t LOVE hearing from you, Brooke, but what brought this on? Why now?” I’d wandered back to the living room, curling into the chair that Bucky sat in, letting the residual scent of him cradle me.

“I met someone,” she squealed, causing a tiny mimic to happen from the background and I chuckled. Good God, she had a mini me. “You’d know him, actually -” I bit my lip. “EVERYONE knows him or knows of him.” I squinted, shit, should I tell anyone?

“Tell me EVERYTHING.” But then I heard a male voice, Joey her husband. “Shit, the conquering man returns.” I snorted. “You are NOT off the hook, Brooke. I expect details and a NAME.” I promised she’d get both and then we said goodnight.

I’d missed a text while I was on with Connie. Another attempt at a selfie, this time it had part of another person that I found out was supposed to be Sam when I read the accompanying text message. “See UR cuter.” I was grinning, but the next message made me sigh. “Stuck w/ Sam. :(“

Sad face emoji indeed, I thought. Contemplating what type of reply I could send to a 106 year old without pushing him away or over a cliff, I went back to the kitchen where his flowers were still holding tight. Thinking about how creative I felt like getting, I found the largest bloom, went to the bathroom and brushed out my hair. I tried to remember what the women from Bucky’s younger days might have done to look tempting. Dramatic eye, red lip, then putting the flower behind my ear I hoped like hell that I didn’t look completely ridiculous before clicking off a shot and sending it.

“Too bad. Sam’s a lucky guy. :*”

I was washing off my work and thinking about reheating some more leftovers for dinner when my phone chirped. Glancing down I was left smiling by his answer.

“No, I am.”

Dinner, a shower, then bed. Well, after a LONG staring contest in the mirror where I did my own personal pre-bedtime mantra. It was rote, and I did it with the same vigor that I’d done it with every other time. And I was just as certain that it would work as well.

Without Bucky, I had my bed remade and I was settled back on my pillows. The soft blue glow of the television had been a nice addition, so I flipped it on. Turning the volume down so it was the same murmur that was soft enough to not keep me awake, I hoped it would work as a surrogate for the anchor that Bucky’s presence seemed to be.

The flashes came red, blue, unnameable colors. The feelings of pain and suffering, darkness and terror creeping closer and trying to pull me back. I still couldn’t see what caused it, where the pain came from, what was so terrifying that I felt trapped by it. What or who was trying to drag me back to wherever I’d been was still as unknown as it had been when Thanos snapped his gold encased fingers and after the Blip the answers were still unavailable. I didn’t feel as pinned down or as in danger or being yanked away from home, so I was still tethered to reality. I just had to wait through it, to survive the feelings that I couldn’t figure out, until the flashes of colors came to let me know the end was coming and I was waking up - coming home again.

I woke to a text from Connie.

“It’s McGillcutty’s day. Come visit me. PLEASE.” I shook my head at the plea, but it wasn’t like I had plans or a job to get to. I hoped she knew I wasn’t planning on spilling ALL while she was cutting hair and styling the neighborhood ladies, because I hadn’t been gone so long that I’d forgotten how fast gossip travelled.

“Fine.” I hit send. I got ready and grabbed some toast and a bottle of water. My bag with a book, my earbuds and a charger for my phone, just in case, and I was out the door and heading to Connie’s mom’s salon.

I was at the salon by the time both slices of my toast were finished and most of my water was gone. Tossing the napkin I’d wrapped my breakfast in in the trash when I walked in, I almost missed the hush that fell over the entire room when I entered. Almost. Shit. Standing up I realized that all eyes were on me. Great.

“Brooke!” Connie beckoned to me from her station at the back of the shop, one she’d picked out when she was still washing hair. “Put your eyes back in your heads,” she rolled her eyes. “It’s JUST Brooke.” I shook my head, only Connie would try to brush off the fact that I just walked into the neighborhood hen coop after steering clear of it for a full six months, and I looked five years younger than I SHOULD.

Her mom grinned at me and called out a “looking good, Brookie” as I passed, getting a little red added to my cheeks, but aside from that Connie had shamed most of the clucking hens into at least pretending that they weren’t amazed by the very sight of me. I made it to Connie’s station and found that she’d prepared for my visit by grabbing one of the waiting area chairs and brought it back so I wasn’t stuck leaning against the wall or counter.

Plopping down, I watched as she went about styling Mrs. McGillicutty’s hair. After I’d said a polite hello to the elderly woman, of course. It was almost mesmerizing, watching Connie wrap each curler with the blue washed thinning hair of the bird thin woman. And as she wrapped she talked.

“You remember how Tawny and Sam were planning on getting married the year after we did, right?” I told her I did, and she snorted. “Yeah, that went south so quick.” I heard Margaret Andrews pipe up from two chairs down that it wasn’t all that surprising.

“They were on again and off again so much growing up, I’m surprised either of their mamas let them make that much of a plan.” She offered up. I bit my lip, the hen house was raring to go.

Connie’s eyes met mine and I could see them sparkling with mirth. And we were off, the mission seemed to be to get me back in the swing of things and she’d brought the troops.

I got another ‘selfie’ in the middle of my visit with Connie and I glanced at it and bit my lip. It was marginally better. Bucky was at least visible and discernible this time. I couldn’t tell where he was, but the message wasn’t optimistic about my odds of seeing him soon.

“Baltimore w/Sam.”

A sigh escaped and Connie glanced up from where she was cutting Kelly Taggert’s hair. Since Kelly was someone who wasn’t exactly in our sphere prior to leaving school, much less before the Snap, Connie held her curiosity at bay. Too bad Kelly didn’t get the memo.

“Bad news, Brookie?” I glanced up, thinking about reminding Kelly that very few people had the privilege to call me that, and she most definitely wasn’t one of them, but held back. This was Connie’s place of business after all.

“Not really. Just spam.” Fuck it, why give her any grist for the mill? Connie could smell my bull from a mile away, but Kelly didn’t know me from Adam.

“I hate that, there should be a way to input a block for those automatically -” and she was off. I grinned at my phone as I typed a reply to Bucky.

A selfie was out of the question, not with this crowd. “I’m socializing. Willingly.”

Kelly was still telling everyone, because her voice could pound a nail into a wall it was so fucking loud and annoying, all her ideas for dealing with spam texts, emails, telemarketing calls and on and on. I almost felt bad about setting her loose. Until my phone chirped and I got another selfie from Bucky looking shocked in answer to my text.

Tucking my phone away, I set back and let Kelly rant until Connie finished her hair.

I stayed until closing and it wasn’t as bad as I’d thought it would be. Connie told me that her sister-in-law was keeping Bryn after preschool, and we had some time to just relax and chat. I had a feeling she made those specific plans after we talked on the phone, she was just that freaking curious.

She grabbed two cans of soda from the breakroom and plopped into the swivel seat her customers usually sat in while she played fairy hair godmother. “Spill.” I rolled my eyes as I cracked open my can.

“You only invited me to hang out today to ply me for information about my personal life, didn’t you?” I squinted over the top of the can as I took my first drink. She grinned and nodded, not the least bit shamed. Swallowing, I dramatically sighed. “Fine.” I couldn’t stop the smile that started growing at the thought of Bucky. “Do you remember when Mom and Dad took us to the Smithsonian?”

She was staring at me like I was crazy and didn’t know where I was going to go with the trip down memory lane, but she nodded as she opened her own drink. “Yeah, we were like ten.”

I bit my lip. “We were,” it had been a fun trip, just Connie, me and my parents. For Connie who had siblings and me as an only child - we both had a blast. “We went to the Captain America exhibit.”

“God we went to ALL of the exhibits it felt like, your dad was gaga over the Air and Space one -” she stopped, suddenly HEARING what I said. “Wait, the -” Her eyes met mine and went wide. “NO.”

“I bumped into him,” my hand went to my chest, still a little bit tender. “He’s - he’s amazing.”

Connie leaned forward and looked almost exactly like she had when we were 15 years old and I told her that Todd Garrison kissed me behind the bleachers during the pep rally. Wide eyed and excited, she bit her lip. “Is he -” she looked like she couldn’t quite decide what to ask first. “Tell me EVERYTHING.” So I did, within limits, sort of.

#bucky barnes/oc #the falcon and the winter soldier #slow burn #eventual smut #fluff #humor

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wschorong · 3 years

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( ㅡ FAIRWEATHER. ) @seojunws

A harsh crinkle formed in between Chorong’s brow the longer she stared at the clock. Her gaze flickered between the digital time on her phone and the ticking one hanging on the wall. There was no need to describe how out of place she felt within the walls of a company building she didn’t belong to. Nothing like discomfort, but she felt the eyes on her, speculating whether they knew her face or not. She lingered around the cafeteria for as long as she could get away with. After all, practicing for dance covers with her YS trainee friend built up quite the appetite. ( Was it unfair of her? To indulge while the others were on diets? )

The phone in her other hand buzzed with a message that quickly prompted a disappointed pout. No amount of cutesy stickers and She mumbled under her breath as she typed a reply to her friend. Something along the lines of: I can’t believe you ditched me. You’re dead to me for a whole day.

With an exasperated sigh, she drifted toward the entrance, bag of snacks already open for the long journey back to her dorms that she knew she would have. Or, what she thought was the entrance. Yuseong’s building was far bigger than Wishbone’s ever could be. One had to wonder if they purposely built a maze of hallways to deter trainees from getting too off track. ( And potentially trapping ones from other companies so they would be assimilated into the Borg called YS Entertainment. )

It didn’t take Chorong long to give up her sense of pride and ask for directions. She eagerly tapped a young man on the shoulder. As far as she knew, he appeared to be a trainee. He certainly wasn’t wandering around looking lost like she was. “Excuse me. Can you show me where the exit is? I forgot...”

#t / fairweather #seojunws

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ahoncc · 3 years

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Daraitan part 1: the descent

We planned the day ahead of time and it had the makings of an epic adventure. Daraitan, right where the Tinipak River starts. Four riders. Coffee. And a whole bunch of good vibes.

Initially, we had thought of biking all the way. Marlowe, Ara, and I were, after all, used to climbing the Sierra Madre. Trasienne, on the other hand, had never done it before and was not mentally prepared to grind her way up to Sierra Madre hotel and then some, all the way to Daraitan.

With that in mind, we decided to drive to and park at the hotel, and descend to the river from there. It was a good plan for people who had nothing to prove and just wanted to have a good time in nature.

My alarm rang at 4:30 AM on Tuesday morning, but I actually woke up before it did. Having showered the night before, I changed into my riding clothes, made sure I had all I needed for the trip in my Chrome bag, and rode out to Marlowe's place (which we refer to as the Budol Bahay). In less than half an hour, I was being greeted by Graham and Gracie, Marlowe's dogs. Enne arrived soon after.

We loaded our bikes in the bed of the pickup and drove to Tanay to pick up Ara. The sun was rising and it felt a bit strange to head to Rizal in an automobile, but I didn't let that bother me. Excitement built up in me as we got closer to our destination.

Ara and her bubbly energy lifted our moods even more. With grapes and bananas from the vendor on the sidewalk, we drove up to Sierra Madre hotel. Upon arrival, we took everything we needed and packed them in bar bags and saddlebags. Fruits and tools in Marlowe's pack, and coffee brewing equipment in mine. Soon we were good to go.

Descending to Sampaloc is always a joy. Usually, we'd be relishing the speed as a reward for crushing our legs on the way up, but there was none of that at this time. Instead, I was itching to run into some gradients. I was not disappointed, after consecutive descents, we finally ran into some good ol' walls on the path toward Daraitan. What used to be a dirt road was now paved; perfect for bikes.

I tackled the climbs like second nature, keeping an eye out for how Enne would perform. She was a real trooper. She stopped to rest once but pedaled her way up like a champ. Maybe we should have biked all the way?

When the pavement vanished and turned into dirt (or light gravel), I was very excited. It was time to test the capabilities of my Fairweather for CX tires. Unsurprisingly, they did great. Probably one of the best bike upgrades I've ever made.

Marlowe's gravel bike had no problems with the climb and terrain, obviously. Ara's had problems with her rear brake. Thankfully, she made it down safely. Enne was riding on skinny, 25c road tires, so she had to be careful on the dirt. But I had no doubts that she'd have no problems, simply because those skinny tires were the toughest road tires you can find: Continental Gatorskins.

Eventually, we reached Daraitan. We were greeted by the view of the river and the mountains behind it. It was enough to get our hearts pounding. Instantly, I felt freer. Away from the city and the stress that comes with living in it. For the next few hours, there was only peace and joy.

Photos by Ara Custodio (sorry you're not in any of them :c).

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