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bitten-fruit · 2 months

Note

price….. in a.. a.. cowboy hat

girl... you have no idea what you have done to me with this ask. Cowboy Price!?? I had so much fun with this, I might even do a part 2! I'm sorry this took me so long - I really hope you like it!!! ♡

18+ mdni - cw: chasing, spanking - 3.2k words

John Price owns the ranch that neighbours your father's. You've got a habit of climbing the fence between them, snooping around Mr Price's property and leaving traces of your misbehaviour behind. This time, he catches you.

Here’s part 2!

Daddy had warned you about wandering onto Mr Price’s property. The lichen-coated fence that separated his land and your father’s spanned miles; carving through tall dry grass, through woods of oak and pine trees, over a bumbling shallow creek. It was easy enough to climb over, but there was one little gap in the barrier, where the splintering planks had fallen from their fastenings. Tucked under a towering cottonwood tree, hidden by the grass, it was easy to wander through as if it were more of your own land on the other side.

Mr Price was a reticent man. An arguably shadowy figure, who you might occasionally see on horseback up on the hilltops of his ranch, tan cattleman hat bowed as he surveyed his acreage. You had met him, once or twice, as a girl. Then, he was in his early twenties, tall and aloof. Eldest of three sons, all three of whom had enlisted and served, sent to fight a war whose nature you were oblivious to in your innocence. He had been absent for years, and once his father was taken by whatever cancer he chose not to treat, John was the only one of the three to return.

His father you had known, vaguely, only as a man that your father despised with an unwavering passion. Some daft rivalry, dating back long before you were born. Whatever enmity existed between old men had not quite been passed on to the last remaining son, it seemed – where there might have been out-and-out conflict, existed only cold disinterest.

Thus explained your intrigue. You found yourself strangely captivated by him, in a nosy sort of way, once he had finally come home. Suddenly bearded and jaded, no longer the bright-faced young man you had distantly remembered, he had picked up where his father had left off. He lived alone, as far as you were aware, in his inherited six-bedroom farmhouse, atop a five-thousand-acre piece of natural splendour. Don’t bother the man, daddy would tell you, he’s not our friend.

But you had always been at the mercy of your impish curiosity. You couldn’t help it. It was an impulse, a compulsion, to stick your fingers where they didn’t belong. You would habitually explore his acres when you came home from college. You’d peek into his empty old shacks, pet his mooing cattle, pick handfuls of wildflowers from his unkempt fields.

Sometimes you’d sneak into his stables. You’d coo at his horses, stroke their velvet snouts, feed them the flowers you had plucked with a smile. They had grown to like you, his sweet horses, you wished you could know their names. They probably liked you more than him, no doubt, the mysterious little neighbour that would sneak in at dusk and feed them treats.

But your most regular habit – one that had gotten you into trouble before – was your proclivity for picking bunches of glossy red cherries from his rows of fruiting cherry trees. The orchard was under-loved and weedy, but those glimmering little baubles of ruby were just too delightful to let fall to the grass and rot.

He had caught you, once, while your arms were stretched far above you, reaching among the droopy branches and floppy leaves to pick the brightest sun-ripened cherries. You had heard him yelling;

“Hey! I see you in there, missy!”

Lips stained red, slick with sweet juice, you gave him a puckish grin before you ran off like a rabbit and hopped back over the fence.

“There’ll be trouble next time I catch you over here, little lady,” he had roared after you, watching you clamber over the oaken planks, “You hear me?”

It didn’t stop you, of course, whatever threat he threw at you. If anything, it emboldened you. Now you meandered down the rows of cherry trees like they belonged to you, picking the prettiest ones, popping them behind your teeth and meticulously nibbling the flesh from the pit, spitting them into the grass as you moved onto the next.

You left a trail wherever you ventured. Little wet pits and green tooth-pick stalks in piles around the place; in stables, along pathways, among the cows. Sometimes you’d leave juicy red fingerprints on doorframes, on the planks of the fence, on horse snouts – perfectly incriminating.

Today was no different. You wandered in scuffing sandals along an old dirt road, green sprigs of grass almost covering it entirely. Some old route that settlers may have followed state to state, spotted occasionally with two-hundred-year-old milestones, ignored just enough to have been spared from crumbling to dust.

Shaded by a cottonwood, humming to yourself, you created a little tipi with your cherry stalks on the flat top of a mile marker. Balanced them carefully as you licked the fruity flesh from your teeth. And when a gentle breeze blew it over, scattering your creation, you leaned over the stone to pick them from the dry gravel around its base.

One, two, three, four…

At the familiar rumble of a truck trundling over dirt, you straighten your spine, palms resting on the edge of the milestone as you look over your shoulder. A dusty Chevy square-body had already coasted to a stop behind you, red paint faded and matte after a decade or two of proper use and neglect.

There he was, the enigmatic man, hanging his elbow out of the open window. Mr Price squinted through the glare of the afternoon sun, crow’s-feet pinching, eyes barely shaded by the cattleman he wore even inside his truck. Your throat bobbed with a swallow as you caught his eye; the flitter of adrenaline buzzed in your chest, toeing the line between nerves and excitement.

With a disapproving suck of his teeth, he grumbled at you, “What’d I tell you about catching you back here?”

Plucking the short skirt of your cotton dress downward, to cover where it had ridden up, you spun around to face him demurely.

“You said there’d be trouble,” you answered with a simper, shyly scratching the back of one hand with the fingernails of the other.

“Mhm,” he grunted in agreement, tapping the metal door with his palm. He flicked his head in gesture for you to make your way around to the passenger side. “Get in.”

A crease pulled between your brows as you frowned at him. “What for?”

“I’m takin’ you back to your daddy,” he barked, irate and impatient, “I’ve got some words for him, too.”

You absently kicked the rocky dirt with the heel of your sandal, pouting at him. “What words would those be?”

With a snort, he rocked his head to peer out of his windshield, then back to you. “To keep a fuckin’ handle on his daughter.”

“Don’t think there’s anything you could tell him that he hasn’t already tried,” you mumbled, attempting to subtly flick the handful of cherry stalks you had collected to the ground.

He chuckled at that, breathy and hoarse, a hint of frustration in his throat. “I believe that,” he scoffed, “c’mon. In. Don’t make me ask again.”

You chewed on your lip, squinting in challenge as you stood up straight. “Or what?”

Glowering at you for a moment, his nostrils flared in frustration, as he seemed to swallow what must have been an inappropriate retort. Instead, his arm retracted through his window, and following the thud of the handle he swung open the door with his forearm.

With a hop he landed in the dirt, dust rising from under his well-worn leather boots. You hadn’t seen him up close in as long as you could remember, and Christ, how he towered over you. It may well have been the looming shadow of his sizzling anger that made him seem so daunting, so delightfully thrilling. You felt the shiver of gooseflesh tingle down the nape of your neck as you tilted your head to look up at him, sheepishly watching his steady approach.

“You’ll be in more trouble than I will if you lay a hand on me,” you spat, with a faint curl in your lips, almost daring.

He gazed down the bridge of his nose at you, wearing a snide and thin smirk, curled under his dense beard. But as his gaze raked you up and down, his sneer shifted quickly into a pout of disapproval, eyes caught on your chest.

“Care to explain this?” He queried severely, wide hand reaching for you; you leaned back further against the milestone behind you as if it might evade him. With his fingers he pinched the cream linen of your blouse, and for a moment you feared he was peering down the gap - brazenly inspecting your bare breasts underneath.

But, no, he instead curled the fabric between his fingers to show you the bright red stain dribbled down the front of your dress.

Oops. Your gut reaction was to giggle, yet unsure whether to admit guilt or feign ignorance.

As you parted your lips to speak, his judging hand suddenly moved to your face; a hold of your chin with a thumb and hooked finger. Piercing glare glued to your lips, his eyes sunk into a defeated ire, shadowed under the brim of his cattleman.

Your tongue writhed behind your teeth, heart thumping in your throat; as he tilted your head up and to the side. He used his other thumb to wipe your bottom lip, pointedly slowly, from the corner to the centre.

“You’re a little thief,” he gritted, dropping your head and peering at the red smear of juice on the pad of his thumb. “Aren’t you.”

Were you scared of him? It was hard to distinguish your fluttering heartrate between terror and thrill – perhaps a touch of both. Because you didn’t know him. You couldn’t trust him. You had no basis to assume he wouldn’t club you with a closed fist and throw you in the back of his pickup. But you felt the tingle his touch left behind on your lip. You got stuck on his pinched blue eyes, the glare of the sun reflecting off your dress illuminating them like they glowed from within.

“No I’m not,” you muttered, readjusting your dress after he left creases in the low neckline.

“And a liar?” He scoffed, as he grabbed one of your wrists – lifting your hand to reveal the sticky burgundy juice under your fingernails, red drips dried in your palm. “You’re covered in evidence, missy.”

Snatching your hand from him, you crossed your arms in petulance. “It’s not stealing if you don’t use it.”

“The fuck it isn’t,” he snapped, hooking his hands onto his hips. “Now get in the goddamn truck.”

“I can walk home,” you grumbled, “you’re not the boss of me.”

Huffing in anger, he leaned forward – looming over you with a domineering lour. “While you’re trespassing on my property – yes I am.”

Glaring up at him from under your brow, you nibble at the inside of your lip as you pouted at him. “What’re you gonna do if I don’t go with you. Kidnap me?”

He tilted his head, shrugged his shoulders. “I’ve got some rope in the truck,” he gruffly warned, “you gonna make me use it?”

Did you imagine the glint in his eye? Did you make up the lascivious quip in his tone? Whether or not it was dreamt, it plucked a coy smirk in your lips.

He was daring you, wasn’t he? Goading you to challenge him.

So with a glistening smile you reached for his cattleman hat – plucked it from his head, and swiftly placed it on your own. Too big to sit properly, you perched it on the back of your head so that you could still see out from under the brim.

“Hey!” He barked, lunging to snatch it back from you – but you bolted, kicking off your sandals, ducking under his arm and sprinting across the dirt road. Through the field of grass and dry wildflowers, you bounded like a deer. “Fuck’s sake.”

Holding his hat in place, you peeked over your shoulder in your escape, and he was swiftly in pursuit.

“God dammit, girl, you get back here!” He roared – already closing the distance. You hadn’t expected a man as bulky as him to sprint as fast as he was, charging after you like a grizzly.

You only giggled, leaping over fallen logs and stray planks of wood, weaving between the tall white oaks that littered his prairies.

“If you get so much as a dent in that hat I’ll fuckin’–”

“You’ll what?” You squealed through a grin, holding the skirt of your short dress in a fist against your hips, to allow your legs to sprint in full stride.

You heard him grunt, close to a growl, as he encroached on you. “You’ll be in big fuckin’ trouble!”

Breathless, panting, you failed to think of any witty response as you dashed towards one of the many stables on his expansive property – this one devoid of horses or livestock, simply a storage building for stacks of haybales and racks of tools. You’d perused it before. He might have found more discarded cherry pits in there.

He was behind you already, as you barrelled through the ajar stable door, stumbling into the centre of the dishevelled space. Illuminated only by the cracks of glowing sunlight that broke through gaps in the plywood boards, you stood amongst dust and scattered hay. You turned and faced the entrance, watching in anticipation as he steamed in after you.

Face burning red in fury and exasperation, he jabbed two angry fingers in your direction. “Give me the hat,” he ordered, throaty and severely – no longer joking.

But stubborn as you were, overly enjoying the needless chase, you were not going to capitulate that easily. You stood poised to dash, and with hunched shoulders, he prepared to hound after you.

“I like it,” you puffed, exhilarated, purposefully impudent. You pinched the brim, pulling it down with a disingenuous hat-tip. “It probably looks better on me.”

“Even if it does,” he chided through teeth, out of breath, “it’s not yours.”

You snickered girlishly, pursing your lips. “Maybe it should be.”

“Give it to me.” He thundered, hand outstretched, your heart flipped in your ribs at the sudden eruption of stern rage.

So you spun on the ball of your bare foot, before flitting hastily towards the rickety ladder that led up to the hayloft. Clambering up it like a spider, the old wood and rusted nails squealed in dispute of being used for likely the first time in decades.

But he was blindingly rapid in his chase, and before you made it even halfway up the ladder, his heaving forearm scooped around your waist, hooking you by the stomach.

“C’mere,” he growled through a clenched jaw, as he peeled you from the ladder; hoisting you like a small animal, holding your back to his chest with a constricting arm, leaving your feet dangling high off the ground.

You writhed and kicked, bucking like a goat, still holding his hat tightly to your head to prevent him from snatching it back from you. “Let go of me!” You squeaked, still giggling.

“No,” he snarled, “I’m taking my fuckin’ hat back, and then I’m taking you back to your daddy so he can knock some goddamn sense into you.”

You whinged, clutching his thick forearm in an effort to loosen his grip; nails digging into his bronzed and hairy skin, corded with veins bulged from the exertion of keeping you contained. His body burned like a furnace, pectorals stiffening underneath you as he flexed them, while he hauled you towards the exit.

“It’s just a hat,” you whined, “you’ve probably got heaps of them.”

Your obstinance was aimless – no particular interest in the hat, and no true understanding of why you fought so desperately to keep it. Maybe you just wanted to see how far you could push him. Wanted to see what would happen.

“It was my father’s,” he griped, anger approaching a boiling point as you continued to squirm around in his grip.

You groaned in dispute, still holding the leather cattleman tightly to your head. “Well he won’t be needing it, will he?”

That was a step over the line.

You knew it immediately, quick to bite your tongue after the words spat from your lips.

And his retaliation was sudden and severe; dragging you closer to the exit, he tossed you unceremoniously, almost tumbling down with you into the pile of block-shaped haybales that sat by the stable door. You landed face-down against the bale, winded, a squeak jumping from your chest with the impact; and his hat toppled from your head, rolling out of reach.

He kneeled beside you, with his forearm weighing against your lower back - you were flustered and confused by his haste. Skirt hitched up by the fall, he suddenly swung his free hand down with an open palm, smacking against the bare skin of your ass with a thunderous whack.

“Ah!” You squealed, a shriek, followed quickly by a breathless whine that slipped from your lungs outside of your control. The explosive clap rang in your ears, echoing within the bowels of the stables, loud and shrill. And the sting was sharp, hot and prickling like a brand, no doubt the raised outline of his hand was quick to form in your shivering skin.

A silence followed, pregnant and heavy, and you dared not move nor breathe too loudly – you inhaled and exhaled with trembling breaths, lips parted and wet, eyes wide as you stared into the packed hay.

He was dead quiet, too. Panting throatily, he kept you in place; grip of you not easing, though he stayed utterly still. You thought he might apologise, might express some remorse, might beg for you not to tell your father what he did. But he was silent. Like he had even surprised himself.

You tilted your head slowly, peering at him doe-eyed over your shoulder. “I’m sorry,” you whimpered, close to a whisper, dripping with pleading humiliation.

“For what?” He growled; his glower potently intimidating, a glimmer of voracity in his shadowy eyes, strained like he was suppressing greater hunger.

With a whine you turned your head back, facing ahead into the shack wall, you spoke quietly and nervously. “For taking your hat.”

Followed another swing of his arm, wide hand colliding with your rear in another deafening crack, forcing a laboured squeak from your chest. But there was something more than pain in your throat, wasn’t there? A whisper of thrill, a yelp of delight in your subsequent gasp.

And he must have heard it, took it as encouragement; as you felt the hand of his arm that pinned you down curl into a fist, balling the fabric of your dress tightly in his palm – lifting up the hem even further, you felt the cool air of the stable bite at your stinging skin as your ass was entirely exposed.

“Yeah?” He rumbled, gritting teeth, huffing like a beast. “What else?”

#bet his handprint is the size of a dinner plate #john price #call of duty fanfic #john price x reader #john price x female reader #captain john price #cod fanfic #john price x you #captain price #captain price x reader #captain price smut

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lost-creatures · 1 month

Text

Cannulation

When cattle eat too much high protein forage they can develop bloat. If left untreated for long enough, drastic measures are necessary to prevent losses.

Reader Discretion Advised: woundplay, veterinary medicine, bloodlube, cowgirls, t4t, yuri

I found her in the field. Laying there in the dew laden clover, curled up clutching her gut. She was in agony, weakly mooing. It was damn near 9 in the morning and who knows when she got out. She doesn't know why she can't be out here this long. She just hates the silage and wants to be outside. She is pitiful. Writhing. She bites her lip and her eyes are pleading as I approach her flank. I'm not sure she understands what has to happen. I slide a steel cannula over the trocar in my right hand.

She's misread me. She bucks her hips slowly as I straddle her and run my hand down her ribcage. My palm brushes the soft side of her belly as I reach the final rib. I trace the tip of the trocar over her until I'm halfway between the rib and her iliac crest. She whimpers as I press the tip into her side. The flesh yields, red beads at my tip and I drive sixish inches of steel through her gut and into the offending organ. I trap her waist between my thighs and hold her at the wrists to stop her squirming as I remove the trocar and leave the cannula held in place by the tightness of her newest hole. A thin trickle of blood from the wound trails down her belly. If I move too slow, she'll self lubricate these walls and the trocar will be forced out by the gasping breaths she's taking as she struggles under me.

I pour PDMS Solution into the cannula and wait. She tucks her head between her arms and pleads with me to pull it out.

Nothing, she's still fucked up on high protein grasses. The foam in her gut's too thick and the gas boiling off in her gut still can't find its way out.

Fuck. I gotta tie her up.

I pull the cannula out and get her to her feet. She hates this. She wants to throw up but can't. The bloodstain around her hole grows as gravity pulls her in a new direction. Staggered, we walk over soggy clover to the pole fence. I pin her up against it with my full weight. I tie her legs together, then her arms. Still struggling, she hasn't given up yet. She makes a good cow. A few passes over her head and a harness takes form. I let up my weight a bit and she falls to her knees. I smash her head into the fencepost and bind her to it while she's dazed.

Okay, one long cut along a langer line centered on the new fistula. I open that portal to her gut into a wide fresh slit. She comes to as I slide my hand knuckle deep into her new pussy and spread her open. I'll be honest, there's less blood than you'd probably think. Out of this part of her, her blood is dark like an onyx syrup and flows like a slow curtain. She spasms a little and tears well up in her eyes, but she realizes pretty fast she doesn't want to move right now. That thick protein foam bubbles up from within her bound organs. I might have left this one alone too long.

"This is really really bad for you, girl."

She's fully crying at this point, kinda moaning like she wants it around the bit of her harness.

"Well shit, you're already tied up. Why not huh?"

I slide my other hand between her fat thighs and cup her taint in my palm. She moans and shakes her hips as I slide up over her plush soft balls and softly twitching clit. I play my fingers across the thicker hairs leading up to her belly and slide back down her soft member. She tries to throw her head back but can't. I can't really tell if those are moans or sobs. She's really sensitive right now; she's still pretty new to all this. The skin along her shaft has gotten so soft it almost feels like velvet. Her soft weight in my hands like an old toy. She shudders under my fingers as I find my way just below her tip. She forces me out of her abdomen, spasming as I start jerking her off. She's really throwing her hips back now.

Out here in the field, girl? Good thing we got all this blood.

I wrench my shit out of my jeans and get it slick with my blood covered hand. I don't even have to warm her up. One slow stroke and I'm hilted in her. I bash right up against her prostate and put my weight into it.

She starts choking something out "Nau'. seau. 'ar." she trails off as she starts sobbing again. Drool soaks through the rope bit between her teeth.

I leave her barely hard clit bouncing and slide my arm down her hip into the cleft between her belly and thigh. Leaning so deep into her, its impossible to miss the stink. Boiled nuts and fenugreek. I breathe deep, getting light headed off her girlsmell. I move to cup her belly as I start bouncing off ass that goes up to my tits when I've got her like this. I slide my other hand back into her spearwound and spread her wide open again. All this motion did her some good. Finally, I see some relief on her face as I hold her open, the gaseous build up trapped inside her finding its way out of the hole in her side. She starts breathing deeper.

"Hahahaha, you actually like this don't you?" I can't hold back "Jesus, girl. ffffuck"

Her whole body vibrates as she comes around me. I pull out of her guts and then back my dick out of her ass. She tugs on me, begging me not to leave when I pull back. She grips my fingers as hard as she grips my shaft. Slamming back in, she feels me throb against her still twitching prostate. Knuckle deep in her guts I tease the hole in her intestinal wall like an unbroken cunt. I shoot hilted in her. Each shot ricochets off her back walls and I feel it wash back over me as she milks me dry. Each clench timed with a shot, gasping as she finishes. I take a moment to steady myself. I get off her and retrieve my knife to cut her free. She goes completely slack once the ropes fall away. She slumps off the fencepost and lands right back in the clover.

I gotta go check the fence on her pen. I don't think she'll survive the next one.

#₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎

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ailendolin · 9 months

Note

Happy upcoming birthday!

For the prompt: Ho-Tan (Vextan also good!) with the prompt of 10 - Moon and stars

Thank you so much for the prompt and the birthday wishes! 💙 Today's the day and I'm happy I can celebrate my birthday with a little Vextan fic. I hope you enjoy it!

List of prompts is here. Filled prompts are here, here, here and here on AO3.

Prompts are closed.

————

The Key

“What’s this?” Ho-Tan asked when Vex handed her a small blue box that felt surprisingly heavy in her hands.

“A gift,” Vex explained – which wasn’t much of an explanation at all, Ho-Tan thought. “And before you ask: yes, I know it’s not your Name Day or one of our anniversaries.”

Intrigued and more than a little curious, Ho-Tan glanced down at the box. “Then what’s the occasion?”

“I’ll tell you after you’ve opened it,” Vex smiled secretively.

Ho-Tan huffed out a laugh and gently tugged at the ribbon that was tied around the box. When it finally fell away, her heart began to beat a little faster in anticipation of what Vex had gotten her. A new quill, perhaps? Or maybe one of those ancient scrolls she’d been trying so hard to acquire for months now?

In the end, no amount of guesswork could have prepared her for what lay inside the box. Her fingers shook as she opened it, and when she looked inside, her eyes went wide with shock. A key, the size of her palm and very familiar despite its altered shape, glinted up at her from a small blue velvet cushion.

“Is that–?” she asked in awe.

“A copy of the Chamber’s Key?” Vex smiled. “Yes.”

Ho-Tan’s gaze flicked up to the original hanging around his neck. “But – that’s not allowed, Vex! There must only ever be one Key.”

“Pep, pep, pep,” he said and took the second key – her key – out of the box by its blue string. He looked at it for a moment before he ever so gently draped it over her head. When he let go, the key, flat and wide where his was round and narrow, rested just below her heart. “There. Perfect.”

“Vex,” Ho-Tan began, not quite able to let the argument go just yet. The rules were there for a reason, after all. But then she looked down and noticed the intricate engravings on the key’s surface, and whatever she had been about to say fled her mind. The empty box fell from her hand, forgotten.

“Remember when we stood in Debbie’s garden and you were missing our home?” Vex asked softly. He cupped his hands around hers so they were holding the key between them. “I can’t promise you something like that won’t ever happen again. I sincerely hope it won’t but if it does, this way you’ll always carry the most important parts of our home with you.”

Ho-Tan’s breath caught in her throat as he began to list all the things that mattered to her the most in life and pointed them out on the key: the night sky with the three moons, her favourite constellation and the Red Star on one side – “So you will always find your way back home.” And an apple blossom and butterfly – “To remember you are loved,” next to the names of their children on the other – “So you’ll always have them close.”

Tenderly, Vex closed her fingers around the key and pressed it against her heart. “It’s meant to remind you that you’ll always have a home to return to, no matter where life may take us in the future.”

“Vex,” Ho-Tan whispered in awe. “This is–“

She shook her head, unable to put the magnitude of his gift and the gratitude she felt into words.

“I know,” Vex said. “It’s okay, Alfie. Come here.”

Helplessly, Ho-Tan tipped forward into his waiting arms and buried her head in his shoulder. His soft laughter rang in her ears as his arms came up around her, holding her close, keeping her safe, grounding her – just like he’d done for most of her life. And just like the key would now whenever they were parted.

“I hope these are happy tears, my dear,” he murmured softly into her ear.

Ho-Tan nodded and felt him press a kiss onto the top of her head before he tightened his arms around her. They stood like this in her room until the sun gave way to the moons. When her favourite constellation twinkled into existence in the night sky, they curled up under the blankets and Ho-Tan fell asleep with Vex’s head on her chest and the weight of the key resting just beside it, warm and reassuring.

#scribe elder ho tan #wise elder vex #vextan #yonderland #my fic #birthday prompts 2023 #ask game prompt ficlet

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alex-just-vibing · 2 years

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Cookies of Darkness Incorrect Quotes Because No One Can Stop Me

Licorice: Though I admit I don’t know much about you, I am feeling pretty confident in my assessment that you are probably some sort of sick deadly fuck. Red Velvet: Who told you my secret?

Dark Choco: What happened to Licorice? Red Velvet: She died. Dark Choco: They what? Red Velvet: They died, but she's okay. Dark Choco: …Can you please clarify? Licorice: Clarification is for the weak.

Dark Choco, texting group chat: What flavour of ice cream do you guys want? I’m at the store so be quick! Licorice: Moose Tracks is good! Strawberry Crepe: What the fuck is that!? Licorice: *Gasp* How dare you insult moo- Strawberry Crepe: No. No no not that. What the hell. Why do you spell flavor like flavour. It’s like you have flavor but then this guy shows up and is like “Oui Oui Would you like chocolate flaVOUR or vanilla flaVOUR. Dark Choco and Licorice: what? Strawberry Crepe: I don’t get it why add the EXTRA u when it’s PERFECTLY FINE AS IT IS!? Dark Choco: You done now? Strawberry Crepe: Yeah ok. Dark Choco and Licorice: ... Strawberry Crepe: ...Can I have the Mint Chocolate chip flavour?

Pomegranate, talking to Dark Choco: If looking good was a crime, you’d be a law abiding citizen.

Licorice, washing the dishes: Who the fuck used this pan?? Licorice: Wait. I the fuck used this pan… Red Velvet: It was you the fuck. Licorice: It was I the fuck… Strawberry Crepe: Who cooks rice in a pan? Red Velvet: They the fuck.

Poison Mushroom: Do dragons fart fire? Licorice: I don't know. Poison Mushroom: I thought you went to college.

Licorice: The risk I took was calculated but, man, am I bad at math.

#cookies of darkness #licorice cookie #dark choco cookie #pomegrante cookie #poison mushroom cookie #red velvet cookie #strawberry crepe cookie #cookie run #cookie run incorrect quotes #cookie run kingdom memes #cookie run memes #I love gay people

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mooifyourecows · 8 months

Note

hi moo!! today is so exciting because my best friend just got accepted to her dream college!! as you may know, i love to bake, so since the colors are white and purple i wanna do a purple velvet (basically red velvet but purple instead of red) mini cake with purple cream cheese frosting and then do in white frosting the little symbol on top! im also going to make zucchini bread because we grew zucchini this year. i’ll send photos when i make them, i probably won’t do it until tomorrow or saturday but i am so excited i’ve wanted to bake so much recently but it’s been so hot

Congrats to your friend! you cake plan sounds great, i hope it turns out well 🌈

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kkurades · 1 year

Text

about me !!

☆ IM SASHA !! she / her , intp , leo , film student , europe , slavic , bisexual , cat lover , yuzuru hanyu brainrot

☆ STAN !! NEW JEANS hyein , LE SSERAFIM kazuha , (G)I-DLE miyeon , BLACKPINK jisoo , RED VELVET seulgi , ITZY chaeryeong, TWICE mina , IVE wonyoung , AESPA ning ning , BTS namjoon , STRAY KIDS changbin , ENHYPEN ni-ki , TXT yeonjun , ATEEZ jongho , P1HARMONY jongseob , SEVENTEEN scoups , SOLOIST bibi , KARD j.seph , ZEROBASEONE ricky , XIKERS sumin

☆ CINEMATOGRAPHY!! BETTER DAYS xiao ALL OF US ARE DEAD nam-ra , SWEET HOME hyun-soo , ALICE IN BORDERLAND usagi , MY NAME jiwoo , THE UNCANNY COUNTER mun , THE GLORY dong-eun , VINCENZO chayoung , ALCHEMY OF SOULS dang-gu , JUVENILE JUSTICE eun-seok , KINGDOM moo-young , JUJUTSU KAISEN megumi , BUNGOU STRAY DOGS ranpo , BLACK KNIGHT 5-8, THE SILENT SEA dr hong

#✩ ° ｡ about kurrades

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slowlydifferentbluebird · 1 year

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Idol dream part 2

(I see you choose SM to be closer to Red Velvet AND Aespa, you’re so greedy🥰😉)

The Management found your choices interesting and decided to move on to the next step.

You ended up choosing B, C, D, F and I. Based on these choices, the group’s biggest strengths are rapping and dancing

Group Roles:

You: Leader, Main Rapper, sub-dancer, Face of the group

B: Lead Vocalist, Lead Dancer

C: Main Dancer, sub-rapper

D: Lead Rapper, Lead Vocalist

F: Lead Rapper, Visual, sub-vocalist, Center

I: Lead Dancer, Main Vocalist, Maknae

(The given names of everyone is based on their letter so it’s easy to keep track, mixed group is an interesting idea🙃)

B= Kim Bo-yeon (girl)

C= Han Chul-Moo (boy) stage name: Leo

D= Shin Da-Hye (girl)

F= Sato Fumika (girl)

I= Chisaka Ichigo (boy)

The company has assigned the group a dorm, it has 3 rooms so each room will have 2 people. They advised you all that while they make the final preparations all of you should get to know each other a bit better and maybe think of a group name.

As the staff take you to the dorm, he explains that as Leader, it’ll be your responsibility to assign the dorm rooms to the members and you should also make sure everyone gets along.

A few minutes later the rest of the group arrives. Although everyone has been a trainee for quite some time now, none of you really knew each other very well. There’s awkwardness in the air and everyone is looking at expectantly.

(Noooo, Anon, what are you saying? I'm not choosing SM because I love Red Velvet and Aespa, no no👀 But actually I'm a big SM Stan, because I love ALL their groups)

Oh fuck, I'm leader, I wanna quit and it's still the first day😩

So, I look at my members and I read the awkardness on their faces, so I don't lose time and I start with an improvised discourse.

"So, guys and girls. I know that you are all nervous and maybe a little scared, but today is the first day of the life you dreamed about. We're finally becoming idols after years of training and hard work, so I want to congratulate to all of you", I say, happily smiling at them.

"Today we're making history, as the first mixed group of an agency of the big 3. I'm sure that everyone here is familiar with each other, but there will be time to get even closer between us, just remember that we all are on the same side, ok?" I continue looking at everyone of them with a stern yet secure look.

"Now, about the rooms: Leo and Ichigo, you will be in the room together. Same for Boyeon and Dahye. Fumika you are with me. Now, go leave your things in the rooms. If anybody has answer can ask to me. We'll see each other again here in One hour. Now go", I conclude, starting to take my things in my room.

Zazá

#ask me anything #kpop

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ohctranscripts · 2 years

Text

Naughty Till New Years: Firstly, The Janitor

Narrator: In a barn, deep in the country, as night falls upon the Earth, the animals turn their expectant gaze towards a small radio mounted on the wall.

[Animal noises, mooing in the background, clucking]

Radio announcer: Exercise number five - the curl! Arms skywards, clench your fists. Ready? Begin!

[Music starts]

Radio announcer: One… two… three… four… five… six… seven… eight… nine…

Narrator: And in the farm houses, children rush until their homework is done.

[Pencil scratching]

Child 1: This is gonna be the best show ever, isn’t it?

Child 2: Hurry!

Child 1: Done!

Child 2: It’s gonna be on in seconds!

Radio announcer: One… two… three… four… five…

Narrator: And college students hurry home from their evenings out, some alone, some in pairs, holding hands and glancing at the clock, they hasten their pace. Everywhere, hands on dials, hands on dials!

[Clicking of dials, radio static, music fading in and out]

You see, on all of these radios, we are moments away from the appearance of a very special new star.

[Fanfare sort of music, light saw notes]

Whose capturing of the public imagination can be likened to nothing since perhaps a group of Beatles went on the Ed Sullivan show… Life has stopped, and as all goes silent, people realize they will someday ask each other where they were at this moment.

Person 1: Hey, you gonna listen?

Person 2: Yeah, they got a radio around back, a bunch of us are gatherin’ around.

Narrator: It’s nice, isn’t it?

[People chattering in the background]

And even backstage at the grand theater from which the broadcast will come, the crew glances around, hoping to catch a glimpse of the star! And chief stagehand Laeticia Saltier, running the whole show, can’t help but get swept up in the excitement as she gathers her crew around her.

Laeticia: Allo, Bernard! Hey, you can’t watch here forever, no, because they’re going to exit this way. I’m going to talk to everyone in five minutes, okay? By ze loading dock. Oui!

[Footsteps]

Richard, hey, I’m going to talk to everyone.

[Incoherent protests]

I know but you can come back, you can come back, I’m just going to talk to everyone now. Ja.

[Footsteps]

Allez, allez!

Narrator: Five minutes later, at the loading dock…

Laeticia: Okay, everybody, come close, come close, come close, come close [chuckling], a little bit closer. I know you are worried about, uh, getting too close, but don’t worry, not tonight.

[Muttering]

Okay, stagehand, this is it, huh? We waited a long time for zis, and, er, it’s here now. And, er… you know, I am—I know I am often a little bit tough on you, but you deserve it. [Laughing] You do! You do! Truly, I want you to know zat, er, I’m proud to work with you, and, er, I’m… proud of ze work zat we do ‘ere. Er… you are ze best crew zat I know. If I could choose a group of people to go into battle with, it would be… it would be you. And, er, I might end up dead, but, you know, I would be ‘appy about it.

Narrator: But what brought us to this remarkable moment? It all started with a song.

[Singing saw music]

A song sung on that very stage, just a little song, sung by someone of so little importance that their even trying to sing was… well… touching. You see, it made us feel that if someone so small, so insignificant, could raise up his voice and find happiness, so… could… we.

[Buzzing, a cat meowing]

And so we, in our rooms, reach for our radio dials.

Girl: I’m trying to dial it in! [Mutters] The stupid antenna’s broken.

Dad: You want me to help you with that?

Girl: Dad, get out of my room!

Dad: Okay.

[Girl sighs]

Girl: I’m gonna miss this whole thing…

[Radio static, music starting up]

Narrator: In the grand ballroom, at the top of the Eiffel Tower, the red velvet curtains part, and suddenly, the giant On-Air sign above the stage lights up!

[Opening music]

John: Broadcasting from the top of the Eiffel Tower, the Orbiting Human Circus of the Air!

Friends, in the audience, friends at home, it is so good to be here with all of you.

[Applause]

Now, you all know there is someone very special in the building.

[Applause, cheering]

Oh-okay, get a hold of yourselves, calm, settle. Well, it is appropriate that we who brought you tap-dancing mice and aerialist bovine cannonballs should at last bring you… a certain someone who sang you a certain song…

[Applause mounting]

But! Before we bring him out, first, with their very own version…

[Singing saw music starting]

Of the song that started it all, I give you the Orbiting Human Circus Orkestral, featuring Romika, the extraordinary singing saw!

[Music, bells]

Narrator: And so, the saw’s song rings out, filling the ballroom at the top of the Eiffel Tower, and out into the night, reaching radios!

[Mooing]

Radios!

Child 1: Do you like it?

Child 2: I love it.

Narrator: Radios, the world over!

Girl: Dad?

Narrator: But, there is one lonely soul who is not listening on the radio at the back of the stage, behind the singing saw, behind the shimmering backdrop, tunneled into the brick wall beside the fuse box…

[Groan]

A heating duct. And, curled deep inside this heating duct, claustrophobic and alone, hides… Julian, janitor here at the Eiffel Tower!

[Bang]

Julian: Oh! My head… I hit my head.

Narrator: Who… hit his head.

Julian: It’s okay, I’m not bleeding.

Narrator: And who’s okay because he’s not bleeding!

[Music swell]

Inside the heating duct, through which he’s most accustomed to sneaking into the theater, and from which he can hear and just barely glimpse a world so beautiful, it could only exist in his dreams, the broadcast ballroom. But, why does he seem so incredibly nervous?

Julian: Oh, god, oh, god, oh, god… listen to the size of that audience.

Narrator: Good heavens! Why, his heart is pounding.

Julian: [Breathes in] Oh, I’m so excited. Okay, calm down, calm down…

[Breathing heavily] Sing.

[Music builds]

[Singing] And now we left…

Narrator: Oh no.

Julian: [Singing] And now we know, and now we laugh together…

Narrator: He can’t sing!

Julian: [Singing] And who alone…

Narrator: They’ll hear!

Julian: [Singing] Sang how we sing, knew how we know, and all we’ll ask forever, is may we go… Oh, we’ll be old and weary friends. God bless that all this never ends.

Narrator: But that singing… he does sound very right singing that song, almost as if it’s his song.

Julian: [Singing] And now we left, and now we know, and now we laugh together, and who alone, sings how we sang, knows how we knew, and all we’ll ask forever, is bring us to, oh…

Narrator: And yet, there are certain songs we like because we feel it’s really us singing. And it’s true that he’s not the only one singing. In the wings of the stage, at the broadcast ballroom, stagehand Jacques is singing as he works.

Jacques: [Scatting]

Stagehand: Ah, you sing like a fish.

Jacques: Thanks.

Narrator: And backstage, even chief stagehand Laeticia Saltier running the whole show, sings along.

Laeticia: [Singing] And all we sang together…

Crew member: Sing it, Laeticia!

Laeticia: [Laughs] Wh—what? Oh, it’s so good, ah?

[Footsteps]

Narrator: As she walks to our host John Cameron’s dressing room door, behind which we find him… fixing an uncharacteristic drink?

[Bottle cap unscrewing, knocking]

John: Come!

[Laeticia humming]

John: Please, don’t sing that song, Laeticia.

Laeticia: Sorry.

John: What is it, time? I can’t believe I have to go on stage with him. This night of all nights, our first show back!

Laeticia: John, pull yourself together. We’ve got to go. Allez, allez!

Narrator: Meanwhile, in his heating duct…

Julian: [Singing] And all we left, and all we know, and all we laughed together, and who alone, sings how we sang, knows how we knew, and all we’ll ask forever is bring us to… Oh, we’ll be old and weary friends. God bless let all this never ends. Oh, we’ll be old and weary—ow!

Narrator: What’s the matter?

Julian: Something bit me.

[Music quiets]

Narrator: While on stage, the song ends.

[Singing saw music]

And John Cameron prepared to make the introduction the whole world waited for.

John: That was the Orbiting Human Circus Orkestral, featuring Romika, the singing saw!

Narrator: I only hope he doesn’t start in with the short jokes…

John: And now, ladies and gentlemen, I give you a young performer who is short… of everything except inspiration!

[Applause]

Narrator: Oh, no.

John: Here to debut a brand new song is an artist of whom I could say so little, so little…

Narrator: John Cameron, no, no, no!

John: Easily overlooked, a talent so atomic in its scope that he needs no introduction! Ladies and gentlemen, I say to you, here! He! Is!

[Applause, music swells, fanfare]

[Silence]

[Laughs] Here… he… is!

[Applause, music swells, fanfare]

Here he is!

[Music swell]

[Audience getting upset]

Is he here? Oh god.

Narrator: John Cameron seems to have fallen!

[Soft bang, microphone feedback]

He appears to be crawling around on his hands and knees.

John: Oh god, I don’t ask much of you…

[Soft pounding]

Where are you? Bloodsucking bastard…

Narrator: Perhaps one short joke less and none of this would have ever happened. With the whole world listening, there is nothing but the most dreaded sound of all—dead air!

[Rhythmic clapping]

The stagehands run to and fro, looking all over, but our star performer is nowhere to be found, because he’s hiding in—in—in… a heating duct? Now, let’s not jump to any hasty conclusions. I know the fact that he’s hiding in the heating duct seems to narrow it down greatly. Let’s think clearly. There doesn’t seem to be anybody else in the heating duct. Hm… and the janitor does look rather small, especially curled up that way. We know that his biggest dream is being on stage. Is it possible that he is the small soul that the world has so waited for? Let us go back in time and listen to him singing once more, because there lies our answer.

[Music swell]

Julian: [Singing] Oh, we’ll be old…

Narrator: You’ll remember this.

Julian: [Singing] and weary friends.

Narrator: It was a few moments ago. He’s in the heating duct, he’s singing, and…

Julian: [Singing] God bless that…

Narrator: Yes, it’s just as I thought.

Julian: [Singing] all this never ends…

Narrator: He’s pestered by a clingy distraction as he sings. And, nobody is quite as critical of vocal interpretation as a song’s own author…

Julian: [Singing] Oh, we’ll be old and weary—ow!

Narrator: Especially when he hasn’t had his blood feast. You see, the soul the whole world is waiting for is… a flea. A musical flea. Which, is hiding in the janitor’s sock, unbeknownst to him. I know. We’ll need a moment to process this. There is an explanation. But let’s stay with the janitor right now. Here, exactly as he is…

Julian: [Singing] God bless that all this…

Narrator: Because this is the feeling that the janitor loves so much.

Julian: [Singing] never ends.

Narrator: All of us gathered together, the joyful presence of a crowd.

Julian: [Singing] And now we left, and now we know…

Narrator: And isn’t it when we’re dreaming that we’re closest to our dreams?

Julian: [Singing] And now we laugh together, and who alone…

Narrator: He really is dreaming. Under the starry night sky of Paris, there is not another soul within a thousand feet.

[Wind whistling]

He is seated dangerously on the outer steel lattice work of the Eiffel Tower, asleep, with a silver bucket wedged between his feet and a rag in his hand.

He, of course, is supposed to be working.

Julian: [Grunting]

Narrator: Ah! He’s waking up.

[Water splashing]

Julian: Come on, Julian. You can do better than this. Nothing’s gonna come of you if you fall asleep on the curves.

Narrator: But let’s get back to everything you’ve heard up till now. It’s important.

[Bucket rattling]

There is a story to what the janitor has been dreaming.

[Water splashing, brushing]

He dreams it when he’s awake, too. You see, the janitor likes to imagine he is part of a show. It’s something he’s always done. He can’t help doing! In fact, he’s doing it right now. It helps him pass the twenty-three hours and forty-five minutes he spends alone each day. He likes to imagine narrator—that’s me.

Julian: Oh, please, let good come of me.

Narrator: And he likes to imagine something can hear him when he speaks into the void that way. And that—that’s… you.

Julian: Hi.

[Bucket clangs]

It’s just that this feeling that I haven’t felt in so long… something just reminded me, um, you know when something just reminds you? When I was a kid, my great-grandpa took me to this radio s-broadcast, this broadcast ballroom. He was, um, performing on it, he was a stage hypnotist. And I’d run away from my parents’ house to him, and he kept me for a little while, but when I realized it couldn’t last, and I’d have to go back, which was bad, I got so sad.

And of course, my great-grandpa saw this, so, on this night, he invited me to come be a part of his show.

[Clears his throat]

It was—so it was in this big beautiful theater, there were all these lights everywhere, and all this radio equipment, and normally his act was all of these stunts with hypnosis. Um, people would see things that weren’t there, wonderful things. People would hear things that weren’t there, even smell things. He was amazing. But he said tonight was gonna be different.

And as soon as we got to the ballroom, he took me backstage and he pulled me aside and he said, ‘Julian, this has gotta be a secret between you and me.’ And he looked around to see if anybody could hear and he took me into the dressing room and he closed the door. And he got down on his knees, and he looked at me and he said, ‘Julian. I’m going to attempt a stunt, and it might be the most important thing that I’ll ever do. But nobody can know, except for you.’

And then he checked the door to see if anyone was listening, and he whispered in my ear and he told me, ‘I’m going to hypnotize all Paris.’

He was gonna hypnotize everybody listening to be happy! That’s what he’s doing. But he wasn’t gonna tell them he was doing it! He was—he was gonna slip all the suggestions into his normal act, secretly, so no one would notice. He said everyone listening later tonight, they’ll begin to feel happy.

He said, ‘You know how sometimes you just feel a cool breeze and that’s like, the first breeze that lets you know the autumn is coming, or… or you smell something and it reminds you of a time that you were so happy?’ I said, ‘Yeah.’ He said, ‘Someday when that happens, you’re gonna remember tonight.’

And then there was a knock at the door, and they came to get him, to take him on stage, but he told them to wait. And he got down to my level, on his knees, and he looked me in the eyes, and he said, ‘Do you believe me?’

And I didn’t know what he meant! Uh… but they kept knocking, and he said, ‘I don’t have time to explain what I need you to do when I do this. I need to be able to see you by the side of the stage, and when I look at you, I need to be able to see in your eyes that you really believe I can do it.’

And then he just looked at me. And I… I… I’d never seen him care about something that way. He said, ‘Do you?!’

I said, ‘Yes.’

And then he got up and went with them. But then, he stopped them again, and he turned around, and he said, ‘I want you to cross your fingers for me.’ And I did, and I showed him. And then they went off!

I followed them as far as the edge of the stage, and he went out, and the audience applauded. And then he stopped in the middle of the stage, and he turned around, and he looked right at me. And the whole theater saw it. And I look at him, and I love him with every inch of my soul. And I believe he can do it as hard as I can. And then he started his act.

I got so absorbed, I even forgot how sad I’d been, and… I watch, and it’s the same act he’s—I’ve seen him do before, and then that’s it! The audience applauds, and he comes off stage. And—and he doesn’t want to talk to anybody but me, he comes straight to me, and he shook my hand, and he said, ‘I think we pulled it off!’

And he tells me he’s gonna take me out to see it happen.

[Music starts quietly]

I got my coat, and we go out the door.

So there we are, me and my great-grandpa, walking into Paris, and… we were going out on the town, and I’d—I’d never been out on the town before! And he says that the suggestions can start to take effect any time. And he takes my hand, and he says, ‘I hope it works,’ and he actually looked nervous. I—oh, I wanted it to work. I wanted it to work so bad. I wanted to see it. And so I opened my eyes wide, and I looked for any sign that I could find that it was beginning to happen. And we go into this restaurant ‘cause I have to pee, and when I came out of the bathroom, this lady at this table looked at me, and she smiled.

And then, there were—I heard these people laughing, and I didn’t hear a joke! It was coming from the kitchen. And they were working, they weren’t out having fun like us. And, and I showed my great-grandpa there were these two people hugging goodbye and they kissed, and this old lady petting a cat and she didn’t even have to smile, like… and this woman sweeping the streets all alone, and she has no reason to be happy, but you can see that she’s happy.

And I started looking at my great grandfather and smiling and he was smiling, too, because we were the only ones who knew why. And I looked around with my great-grandpa, we went all over Paris, and everywhere, everyone was laughing, and smiling, and we couldn’t stop laughing!

Until everyone that I looked at was smiling back at me, and…

Narrator: And? You still haven’t figured it out, have you, Julian? It worked! On… who?

Julian: On… on… [sighs] it worked on me!

Narrator: That’s right.

[Bell, music swelling]

We return with more in just a moment.

[Christy Gressman break]

Narrator: We return to the girders at the top of the Eiffel Tower, where the janitor, a bucket balanced between his feet and a rag in his hand, has just told you about his great grandfather. This was different from his more fanciful tales. You’ll understand why later. In fact, the story of the Orbiting Human Circus really began the moment the janitor was asked—

Julian: Woah!

[Clang]

Narrator: But, I can’t tell you now, because the janitor has just hit the bucket with his foot and—

[Clanging, echoing]

It goes plummeting towards the Earth, banging wildly against the tower as it falls!

Julian: Oh my god… [gasp]

Narrator: A person could be hurt or killed below! Or a dog, or a mouse, or—

Julian: Coco!

Narrator: Down below, the night watchman, the janitor’s only friend!

Julian: Coco!

Narrator: Terrified, the janitor rushes down…

[Echoing, metallic footsteps]

Narrator: …climbing off of the girders, flying past the janitor’s closet in which he lives. Past flight after flight of dark, empty loneliness, far below he hears the bucket hit!

[Whistling, bang]

Was that a scream?

Julian: God!

Narrator: He runs and he runs! At last, the janitor reaches the bottom of the tower! Out of breath, he rushes out, and—

Julian: Coco!

Narrator: There, next to the bucket, which is flat as a pancake, is—

Julian: Coco!

Narrator: Coco!

Julian: Coco…

[Music swell]

Narrator: Unhurt.

Coco: Take it easy!

Narrator: Seeing the janitor so hysterical, the night watchman is a bit afraid.

Coco: It’s okay, it didn’t hit me! I’m okay. Breathe… breathe… calm down. Slow, take it easy, relax. I’m okay. What happened?

Julian: I was… I was in the heating duct…

Coco: Okay.

Julian: Behind… behind the stage, and…

Narrator: This is something quite usual, the two of them conversing this way. Coco asking a question, and the janitor answering with something he’s dreamed up. And it may sound familiar.

Julian: Coco, do you remember when, um, when the Beatles were on the Ed Sullivan show?

Coco: Yes.

Julian: Um, when…

Narrator: I mentioned that the janitor spends twenty-three hours and forty-five minutes alone each day. Well, this…

Coco: Backstage?

Narrator: …is how he usually spends the other fifteen, telling the old night watchman a story about a ballroom at the top of the Eiffel Tower.

Coco: Please sing now.

Narrator: And as the janitor talks, his features soften, and his body becomes more relaxed, and the expression of concern and intention on the night watchman’s face slowly transforms into a look of interest and amusement. And, in a few moments, neither of them is in the least bit aware of the fact that, minutes ago, Coco had nearly been removed from this world by a falling bucket, because he is being removed from the world now, by something much nicer.

Julian: …and he goes, ‘Here! He! Is!’

[Applause]

John: Here! He! Is!

[Music swell, applause]

Narrator: And so, we begin to see the janitor as he really is, and not a moment too soon, because there is a mystery the old night watchman is trying to uncover.

[Music, bells ringing]

It’s been said by philosophers that our entire universe might exist in the head of a pin. Like the flea that is too small to see, singing in the palm of John Cameron’s hand, to enjoy it, you have to believe in it if only for a moment. And when the janitor’s telling it, Coco does.

Coco: Uh-huh. Really?

Julian: Yeah.

Coco: Hm…

Narrator: It’s another example of symbiosis in nature. Much as we feed the flea with our blood and it gives us beautiful songs in return, the janitor provides the old man nightly with the products of his imagination, and the old man provides him with a kind of hope.

Coco: [Laughing] A flea?

Julian: And, and, um, I just cupped it in my—I just cupped it in my hands, and I held it there.

Coco: Then what happened?

Julian: Then… uh…

Narrator: Silence. When the janitor runs out of story, he also runs out of words.

Coco: Okay. Uh…

Narrator: Awkward! Just now, the janitor’s face might illustrate the word ‘paralyzed’, ‘pained’, or perhaps even ‘pathetic’ in the encyclopedia. Not having one on hand, here is the janitor’s boss on the phone with his wife last night, describing the janitor’s social graces.

Chouinard: Ugh… ze janitor walks around like somebody who is hit over the head with, uh, the anvil in a cartoon, like he doesn’t know where he is! [Television playing in the background] Like, like he is surprised every day, like, whoo, ah, wow! Wh—wh—what am I doing in ze Eiffel Tower? Mon dieu! I—I give him zis simple, simple task, I say, ‘ere. In your hand is a mop. You move it like this. To the left, to ze right… And he can’t do it! No, I—I know. I know. But of course he has a reason to be ze way he is, so… he’s a bit, uh… sh. I have to be quiet. I know, I know zey would fire me. I know zat. But you ‘ave to believe me. Please, please my love, believe me. I know what I’m doing. I can’t let him go. I just can’t. I can not let him go. Ah… I can’t explain to you why. No, I c—! No, I’m not keeping secret from you. Okay, I am keeping a secret from you, but… oh, it’s a bad day… if you only knew ze truth about the janitor, you would not believe me! No one would believe me! No, I can’t tell you, uh… you’re ze only one I can talk to but I cannot tell you because I—besides, I could not explain. Because ju—I—I—because I know how you are. You talk to everyone. I love you but you can’t help it, you… no, nobody knows. Only me. I think maybe Coco suspects something is crazy, but ‘e could never know ze truth. No. No, I’m not going to tell you! I… uh-huh. Okay, okay, okay, okay. [Sighs] look, are you alone? Are you… very alone? Okay. I’ll give you a little bitty bitty in. No, okay, I have to talk quiet… you’re not gonna get anything from this, but okay… the janitor, ‘e never talks, except to tell ze night watchman zis long and bizarre story, okay? No, they… zat is not ze big clue. Ze big clue is, he began telling ze night watchman zis story ze moment ze night watchman asked him ze question, ‘Wh’—er, ‘ello? ‘Ello? Oh… we got cut off.

[Banging]

Narrator: More about that a little later. Let us look, for a moment, at Coco.

Coco: Ah…

Narrator: An elderly, ex-patriot of pre-civil rights America, he has outlived his wife, his friends, and his family. He looks at the young man in front of him, who, having run out of story…

Julian: Um…

Narrator: …simply stares at him. He can tell the young man would like him to go, and so he does.

Coco: I—I guess it’s time for me to go close up the ticket booth.

Julian: Mm, okay, Coco.

Coco: Goodnight, Julian.

Julian: Goodnight.

Narrator: But, later that night in the Eiffel Tower, when the janitor settles into his cot in the cold janitor’s closet in which he lives, he comforts himself by remembering parts of the story he’s told Coco in the past. He pictures the stagehands, putting on their jackets after a long night’s work, Pierre and carpenter Lily listen, and Jacques, having gotten a taste of singing, like the lion in the wild, its first taste of blood, we find going on a rampage.

Jacques: [Singing] Once in a lulla…

Lily: Sing it to me, daddy.

Jacques: [Singing] Bye.

Pierre: Oh, my goodness. [Clapping, grunts] You guys going home to go to bed?

Lily: Oh, my god, my poor little puppy. She probably dancin’ around doin’ a little pee-pee dance.

Jacques: That’s why I don’t have a dog. Anyway, I’m goin’ out, guys, so I’ll see you later.

Lily: Out?

Pierre: What do you mean, ‘goin’ out’?

Jacques: I mean, with my buddies.

Pierre: You got buddies? What buddies?

Jacques: My kung fu buddies.

Pierre: What kung fu buddies?

Lily: Kung fu?

Jacques: My, uh…

Lily: Jacques, you gotta take better care of yourself.

Pierre: We goin’ to bed.

Lily: Goin’ to sleep now…

Jacques: Look, I appreciate it, but if you don’t live your life, then what are you doin’?

Lily: Jeez…

Jacques: Anyway, you guys enjoy your rest. I’m runnin’ out of here, okay?

Pierre: See you tomorrow.

Jacques: Say hi to the pup, alright?

Lily: Oh, sure.

Narrator: It is now forty-five minutes later. Here are Jacques’s kung fu buddies.

Jacques: Auntie, auntie, you want some tea? I’m gonna go make some. Helps me sleep, you know. Okay, auntie, goodnight, goodnight.

Narrator: And as night watchman Coco prepares for bed, deep in the heart of Paris, alone in the drafty apartment in which he lives, he thinks of a moment from a story the janitor once told him, where the chief stagehand Laeticia, at the end of a long night, was closing up the ballroom with stagehand Francois.

Francois: We did good, though.

Laeticia: We did real good.

Francois: Yeah.

Laeticia: We kept our cool, we didn’t worry about anything, this or that.

Francois: Yeah.

Laeticia: The show could not go on without us, eh?

Francois: You know what? The show could not go on without us. I like that, I like that. ‘Cause I’m not, I’m not so great in front of people, you know?

Laeticia: Uh huh.

Francois: But I like to secretly know that without, you know, what you do and what I do, and even Jacques…

Laeticia: Yeah, even Jacques.

Francois: None of this would—none of this would happen.

Laeticia: Yeah. Do you know where this goes?

Francois: I—that, oh, that goes on the shelf above the radiator.

Laeticia: Shelf above the radia—you mean over, over there?

Francois: Yeah, over there. No, no, I’ll take it, I’ll take it1

Laeticia: No, no, I see the outline in the dust.

Francois: Oh, yeah. That’s…

Laeticia: Oh, oh…

Francois: Oh, you got it. That’s good enough, yeah.

Laeticia: That’s okay, right?

Francois: Yeah.

Laeticia: Yeah. They’ll know in the morning.

Francois: Yeah. You know, it’s raining outside?

Laeticia: Oh, it’s raining?

Francois: Yeah. I got an umbrella.

Laeticia: Oh.

Francois: You want to, you know, I’ll walk you to the bus, if you…

Laeticia: You could walk me to the bus. Yeah.

Narrator: Yes, as the janitor and the night watchman both lie in their beds, their thoughts of the Orbiting Human Circus turn slowly into dreams. And the janitor remembers John Cameron saying, as he has said so often, as millions of people prepare for sleep…

[Music]

John: Broadcasting from the top of the Eiffel Tower, the Orbiting Human Circus of the Air!

[Music changes, closing music]

Well, that’s all for this week, ladies and gentlemen. This is John Cameron, broadcasting from the top of the Eiffel Tower, the Orbiting Human Circus wishes you a good night.

[Applause]

#transcript #tohc #ohc #tohcota #ohcota

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smoothpeanut · 4 months

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I got matching red velvet bowtie collars for mine and my mom's cat but my cat is stupid and kept dunking his bow in the water dish so it was always sopping wet and nasty. so i had to put a different collar on him and now only Moo has the original collar but he's still very handsome

#Tango still has a christmas bowtie but it's a different one from last year that he can't dunk in the water bowl unless he tries really hard

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burnt-cookii · 10 months

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#{ ☆ Sweet Tower of Queue ★ }#red velvet cookie #chiffon #cake hound #cakeberus #[✧]#moo's art #cookie run #cookie run kingdom

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kstarvibes · 8 months

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Winners Of 2023 K Global Heart Dream Awards

The 2023 K Global Heart Dream Awards has announced its winners! On August 10, the star-studded award ceremony—which was hosted by Jun Hyun Moo and Jang Do Yeon—took place at the KSPO Dome in Seoul. Check out the list of this year’s winners below! K Global Best Artist: Stray Kids K Global Bonsang (Main Prize): ATEEZ, THE BOYZ, ENHYPEN, ITZY, NCT’s Taeyong, Red Velvet’s Seulgi, SEVENTEEN, STAYC,…

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httpswony · 9 months

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about me !!

☆ IM SASHA !! she / her , intp , leo , film student , europe , slavic , bisexual , cat lover , yuzuru hanyu brainrot

☆ STAN !! NEW JEANS hyein, LE SSERAFIM kazuha, (G)I-DLE yuqi, BLACKPINK jisoo , RED VELVET seulgi, ITZY chaeryeong, TWICE momo, IVE wonyoung, AESPA ning ning, BTS namjoon, STRAY KIDS changbin, ENHYPEN ni-ki, TXT taehyun, ATEEZ jongho, P1HARMONY jongseob, SEVENTEEN woozi, SOLOIST bibi, KARD j.seph

☆ CINEMATOGRAPHY!! BETTER DAYS xiao , ALL OF US ARE DEAD nam-ra, SWEET HOME hyun-soo, ALICE IN BORDERLAND usagi, MY NAME jiwoo, THE UNCANNY COUNTER mun, THE GLORY dong-eun, VINCENZO chayoung, ALCHEMY OF SOULS dang-gu, JUVENILE JUSTICE eun-seok, KINGDOM moo-young, JUJUTSU KAISEN megumi, BUNGOU STRAY DOGS ranpo, BLACK KNIGHT 5-8, THE SILENT SEA dr hong

#✩ ° ｡ about httpswony

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alex-just-vibing · 1 year

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I posted 958 times in 2022

That's 939 more posts than 2021!

174 posts created (18%)

784 posts reblogged (82%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@milly-the-devil

@insaneillusionist

@autismdino

@stargazing-bee

@astralix13

I tagged 659 of my posts in 2022

Only 31% of my posts had no tags

#reblog - 446 posts

#my stuff - 113 posts

#important - 31 posts

#cookie run - 31 posts

#crk - 30 posts

#save - 29 posts

#cookie run kingdom - 20 posts

#cookie odyssey plot tag - 18 posts

#toh - 13 posts

#the owl house - 11 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#so it depends on if you're asking one of my close friends or people who only know me on here or if you're asking my classmates or my family

My Top Posts in 2022:

Cookies of Darkness Incorrect Quotes Because No One Can Stop Me

Licorice: Though I admit I don’t know much about you, I am feeling pretty confident in my assessment that you are probably some sort of sick deadly fuck. Red Velvet: Who told you my secret?

Dark Choco: What happened to Licorice? Red Velvet: He died. Dark Choco: They what? Red Velvet: They died, but he's okay. Dark Choco: …Can you please clarify? Licorice: Clarification is for the weak.

Pomegranate, talking to Dark Choco: If looking good was a crime, you’d be a law abiding citizen.

Poison Mushroom: Do dragons fart fire? Licorice: I don't know. Poison Mushroom: I thought you went to college.

Licorice: The risk I took was calculated but, man, am I bad at math.

70 notes - Posted October 14, 2022

Hunter: What’s the straightest thing you’ve ever done? Darius: *sighs* Darius: I killed a man.

91 notes - Posted May 27, 2022

Fuck you I'm gonna make sdr2 survivor incorrect quotes and none of you can stop me (spoiler warning for who survives)

Hajime: Don’t stay up all night, Akane. Last time you got this sleep-deprived, you tried to eat your own shirt.

Akane: When you work at lush and a customer comes in and bites the soap because they think it’s cheese... this happens way more frequently than you think. Kazuichi: If you stopped literally presenting soap as deli food this wouldn't happen. Akane: Who goes into a bath store and thinks something covered in glitter is cheese? Hajime: Who goes to the store and just takes a bite from the cheese?

Hajime: I just want someone to take me out. Kazuichi: On a date? Sonia: With a sniper gun? Fuyuhiko: Both if you're not a coward.

Fuyuhiko, holding a rock: Kazuichi just gave this to me and said "I feel like you deserve the moon but all I can give you is a rock". Hajime: If you don't marry them, I will.

Hajime: What do you do when someone offers you drugs? Kazuichi: Take them! Akane: Punch them in the neck! Sonia: Say thank you! Fuyuhiko: Offer them more drugs to assert dominance! Hajime: … Hajime: No.

Hajime: I’m telling you, my team is competent. Sonia, rushing in: Hajime! Kazuichi tried to make pasta in the coffee pot and now it's broken!

Akane: As someone who has a long history of not understanding anything, I feel confident in my ability to continue not knowing what is going on.

Akane: If you spell skeletons backwards, it still spells skeletons. Hajime, deadpan: Wow, I can't wait for Halloween to see some snoteleks.

Kazuichi: If I run and leap at Hajime, he will most certainly catch me in his arms. Kazuichi, running towards Hajime: Coming in! Hajime: No! I’m holding coffee! Hajime: *Drops coffee and catches Kazuichi*

Fuyuhiko, at the slightest provocation: I came into this earth screaming and covered in someone else's blood and and I'm not afraid to leave the same way.

Akane: If you put a milkshake in one yard and crack open a cold one in another yard, which yard would the boys go to? Kazuichi: Schrödinger's boys. Hajime: FUCK! Sonia: What about cracking open a cold milkshake? Fuyuhiko: As we all know, the milkshake brings the boys to the yard. The presence of the boys is a prerequisite for the cracking open of a cold one, but cold ones do not have any inherent boy-attracting abilities. Milkshakes, however, do. Fuyuhiko: All else being equal, the boys would proceed to the milkshake yard. While it is possible to announce the presence of cold ones in the hope of attracting some boys, the pull of the milkshake is much more powerful by comparison. Akane: ... Kazuichi: ... Hajime: ... Sonia: ... Fuyuhiko: Mind you, all of this nonsense hinges on whether or not the boys are back in town.

Kazuichi: BWWAAAAAAAAAA! Oh, you hear that? That's the wrong opinion alarm. Fuyuhiko: That is not something you actually have installed. Kazuichi: Sorry, say again? I couldn't hear you over my alarm that YOU SET OFF with your WRONG-ASS OPINION

Hajime: Two brooooos! Kazuichi: Chillin' in a hot tub! Hajime: Five feet apart 'cause we're not gay! Kazuichi: Hajime: Kazuichi: *tearing up* Hajime: Babe, c'mon... Kazuichi: AND HERE YOU REALLY HAD ME THINKING WE HAD SOMETHING. Hajime: Babe...

Kazuichi, Entering Fuyuhiko's room: Akane did it again. Fuyuhiko: Peace disturbance? Kazuichi: What no- Fuyuhiko: Arson..? Kazuichi: NO, JESUS CHRIST, HOW MANY- Fuyuhiko: uh....Attempted murder? Kazuichi: NO, SHE ATE ALL THE FOOD IN THE FRIDGE, BUT WHAT THE FU-

Kazuichi: Hey random, what are your favorite flowers? Hajime: Peonies, why? Kazuichi: Hajime: Were you going to get me flowers? Kazuichi: Hajime: Kazuichi: ᶦᵗ’ˢ ᵃ ᵖᵒˢˢᶦᵇᶦˡᶦᵗʸ

Hajime: Bottling up negative emotions is bad for your health, so you shouldn't do it. Fuyuhiko: I know, that's why I bottle up all my emotions, both positive and negative, so it cancels out. Hajime: Th-that's not how that works-

Akane, setting down a card: Ace of spades. Fuyuhiko, pulling out an Uno card: +4. Hajime, pulling out a Pokémon card: Jolteon, I choose you! Kazuichi, trembling: What are we playing?!

Akane: Would you like something to drink? *She opens the fridge* We have water, milk, juice, spiders, Dr. Pepper- Kazuichi: Spiders? Akane: Spiders it is then. Kazuichi: No, that wasn’t- *But she were already pouring them a brimming glass of spiders…*

Hajime: I swear to god I'm the only one here with a braincell. Sonia, Kazuichi, Fuyuhiko, and Akane: ALL HAIL the keeper of the sacred braincell!

Akane, knocking on the door: Kazuichi, open up! Kazuichi: It all started when I was a kid. Akane: That’s not what I- Fuyuhiko: Let him finish!

Sonia: Fuyuhiko doesn’t look very happy. Hajime: That's his happy. He's just a bitch.

Hajime: BEHOLD, the field in which I grow my fucks! Lay thine eyes upon it, and thou shalt see that it is barren!

Akane: How is the most beautiful person in the world? Sonia: *blushing* I— Hajime, butting into the conversation: Kaz is perfect, thanks for asking.

Fuyuhiko, grinning: I have a knife! Sonia: Put it down, Fuyuhiko. Fuyuhiko: Make me! *sprints away*

Kazuichi: Are you an F5 key? Because that ass is refreashing. Hajime: Are you a software update? because not right now.

Kazuichi: It's pretty cold outside.. wanna hold hands? We should stay close. Hajime, blushing: Okay. Fuyuhiko: It's fucking summer.

Akane: *sees Kazuichi and Fuyuhiko together* Akane: They're cute. I would put them on a boat. Hajime: You mean... you ship them?

Hajime: *speaking Spanish* Kazuichi: I know, I know. Fuyuhiko: You speak Spanish? Kazuichi: No. I just know the phrase, 'this is all your fault' in every language Hajime speaks.

Kazuichi: Look, I know you think my judgement's clouded because I like Hajime a little bit. Fuyuhiko, holding Kazuichi's notepad: You doodled your wedding invitation. Kazuichi: No, that's our joint tombstone. Fuyuhiko: My mistake.

See the full post

123 notes - Posted May 10, 2022

Reblog if you wanna throw Belos into a fire.

307 notes - Posted April 24, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Emperor's Coven Incorrect Quotes

Eberwolf: Get in, loser, we’re committing vehicular manslaughter!

Hunter, texting Raine: *Sends a voice message* Raine, texting back: I’m a little busy, is it urgent? Hunter: No, don’t worry, just listen later. *Later* Raine: *Presses play* Hunter's voice message: THERE’S A FIRE-

Kikimora: What's wrong with you? Hunter: Off the top of my head, I'd say low self-esteem, a lack of paternal affection, and a genetic predisposition for anxiety and depression.

Kikimora: The Titan has let me live another day and I'm going to make it everyone's problem.

Hunter: Was the moon landing fake? Eberwolf, joking: You believe in the moon? Darius: The moon is made of cheese! Raine: I will catapult you three into the sun.

Eberwolf, grinning: I have a knife! Darius: Put it down, Eberwolf. Eberwolf: Make me! *Sprints away*

Eberwolf: Can you be quiet?! I'm trying to think. Raine: Don't worry. Doing anything for the first time is difficult.

Hunter: What’s your favorite color? Darius: Stop asking stupid questions. Ask me something logical and mature. Hunter: How many moles of sodium bicarbonate are needed to neutralize 0.8ml of sulfuric acid at STP? Darius: My favorite color is purple.

Raine, entering Darius's room: Hunter did it again. Darius: Peace disturbance? Raine: What no- Darius: Arson..? Raine: NO, JESUS CHRIST, HOW MANY- Darius: uh....Attempted murder? Raine: NO, THEY ATE ALL THE FOOD IN THE FRIDGE. WHAT THE FU-

Eberwolf: I know we don't always see eye to eye on things- Darius: That's because you're too short.

Darius: Real life should have a fucking search function, or something. Darius: I need my socks.

Raine: Please, I'm begging you, go to a healer. Hunter: I'm sorry is this OUR stab wound? Stay out of it.

Hunter: Dracula had it right, sleep all day, live alone in a castle, and explode into bats to get out of all social situations

Raine: Stop setting things on fire because you're curious about what will happen. What will happen is fire. Eberwolf: But what if something else happens just this one time?

Hunter: *On the phone* Hey Raine, do you know my blood type? Raine: Of course, it's B-. Hunter: Oh, I guessed wrong. Excuse me, healer-!

Eberwolf: WHY?! Why did you give Hunter a KNIFE?! Darius: I’m sorry. They said they felt unsafe. Eberwolf: Now I feel unsafe! Darius: I’m sorry. Darius: …Would you like a knife?

Raine: Can you melt mercury? Hunter: Well- Darius: The planet, or the element? Hunter: Hunter: WHY THE HECK WOULD THEY WANT TO MELT THE PLANET?

Raine: "Ignorance more frequently begets confidence than does knowledge" - Charles Darwin Eberwolf: What the fuck? Begets isn't a word. Quit trying to make up words, fuckface.

Eberwolf: Christmas is cancelled. Darius: You can't cancel a holiday. Hunter: Keep it up, Darius, and you'll lose New Year's too. Darius: What does that mean? Eberwolf: Raine, take New Year's away from Darius.

Hunter: ARE YOU- Eberwolf: Fucking Hunter: KIDDING ME THIS IS- Eberwolf: Bullshit. Darius: What’s going on? Eberwolf: Raine took away Hunter’s swearing privileges so I’m helping them out.

Hunter, setting down a card: Ace of spades. Darius, pulling out an Uno card: +4. Eberwolf, pulling out a Pokémon card: Jolteon, I choose you. Raine, trembling: What are we playing?

Raine: I am going to need you to swear- Eberwolf: Fuck. Raine: Raine: ...swear as in promise.

354 notes - Posted April 6, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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