dcrkcloud

[dcrkcloud]

Cleo wishes she could've been as level-headed about her own future in music. Though it likely wouldn't have saved her from inevitably coming undone, no time to even think let alone heal between all the blows to her confidence, but she could've at least been better prepared to handle it. She could've at least thought about what her next steps might be should anything have ever happened to their success; even for the band as a whole, nothing was guaranteed. Their steady rise after they went viral wasn't a given, they could have easily faded away into irrelevancy and Cleo hadn't prepared for that possibility either. It's the only thing she'd do differently if she could go back. At least where music is concerned, anyway. "Best to be optimistic and realistic." She laughs softly, willing herself not to fall down that rabbit hole until she gets home later tonight. "That's fair." She shrugs, sometimes that train of thought had been good to her, but ultimately, her vision of the next ten years had crashed and burned, so maybe it had a bigger hand in raising her expectations too high than she'd thought. "Maybe a more interesting question is how do you see your music changing over ten years? Like, do you think you'll try a complete image and sound shift at some point, even just for one single or album, or do you think you'd want to be the type of band that's so reliable they become representative of a specific genre? A band everyone names as an example for that sound."

"Fingers crossed things stay in the realm of pleasantly surprised and no one's ego causes them to take off or sabotage everything." His tone remained predominately neutral as if he wasn't expecting things to go one way or another. The truth was, he had a hard time picturing something overly negative happening at this point, which one would think would be comforting, but the idea of having hope attached to anything terrified him. He so desperately didn't want to be the one left standing there draped in the same disappointment that permeated his childhood up until the point a more cynical nature took over. "Not that I foresee that happening, like I said, I'm a little more optimistic about this now," a shrug followed as he tried to 'manage his expectations' as she put it, "but realistically anything could happen." With this, and this only, Axel toed the line between being foolishly hopeful and dooming himself to some self-fulfilling prophecy — the only two options there were according to him. He laughed, not in a way that ridiculed what the other said or brushed it off, "I see what you're saying. Still, thinking ten years into the future feels crazy. Like I know I'll still enjoy making music in capacity then. Picturing everything else is what trips me up."

[dcrkcloud]

In all her time here, Georgia can confidently say this is the first time a utensil is in the other hand. Is this how her co-workers feel whenever she's in the kitchen? "Um, no, but I can pass your compliments to the chef." She grimaces. "What's wrong with it?"

" this is disgusting. " she uses a fork and knife to cut off a section of the pizza. inspecting the bite sized piece with disgust. she eyes down a worker. a rather short girl. " you. " chalita points at her with the fork. " did you make this? "

[dcrkcloud]

"I think the fact that you have to feel so torn about it is just another way they 'win', that they get to succeed in making us feel like we haven't worked harder for the same success, like we haven't worked hard at all." She mutters, still looking into the near distance at the photograph. "You're not a hypocrite for enjoying recognition you deserve; someone has to stand there and make sure there's a voice in that room that speaks for everyone." Georgia would argue it until she's blue in the face. She offers Vivienne a soft smile. "I imagine it's a panel that decides, right? Not those guys." She doesn't really know, but that's how it seems to work for most awards — she's never been the same since she found out the people who vote on the Oscars don't even have to watch all the nominated films. "Not saying they don't deserve it, too; they still had to earn it, even if the path to success is clearer." Though she knows Vivi's saying it because she believes it to be true, Georgia can't help but think everyone's expectations of her, including her own, are so low for a reason. Twenty-eight years in and she's yet to meet them, after all. "I think I still have some figuring out to do for my own goals, too."

    “   it's   always   a   paradox   ,   living   as   a   woman   ,   we're   constantly   forced   to   contradict   ourselves   .   because   i   never   really   know   if   i   should   be   happy   to   be   in   the   room   or   sad   that   i'm   alone   in   there   .   ”   she   shrugged   .   “   because   i   do   love   being   there   and   a   part   of   the   high   -   rankingers   of   this   industry   .   and   maybe   that   makes   me   a   hypocrite   ,   not   renouncing   my   place   in   it   ,   but   one   of   us   has   to   be   in   there   and   try   to   make   it   work   for   the   rest   .   ”   and   if   that   had   to   be   her   ,   then   so   be   it   .   “   and   i   don't   blame   any   of   them   ,   i've   worked   for   some   of   those   guys   .   know   how   much   they   deserve   it   .   fuck   ,   probably   wouldn't   have   made   it   there   without   the   things   i've   learned   from   them   too   ,   this   is   more   society's   fault   than   their   own   .   ”   another   sigh   .   “   people   who   have   doubts   normally   do   because   their   expectations   for   you   aren't   the   same   as   the   ones   you   have   for   yourself   .   and   in   the   end   ,   the   only   thing   that   matters   is   your   goal   .   ”

[dcrkcloud]

Vivienne articulates the feeling bouncing around Marley's stomach most days much better than she ever could. It often feels like if it isn't Marley herself consciously holding herself back, it's an invisible, immovable force — a wall just ahead of her nose, stopping her from moving forward. Giving herself time isn't the problem in her case, it's how easy it is to think she has all the time in the world, how much that lack of urgency slows her down. "I think being aware of yourself if the best thing you can do for yourself," she eventually replies, "you can't learn or grow unless you accept that there's room to, whether it takes a lifetime or no time at all. Balancing giving yourself that grace and holding yourself accountable is the hard part, at least for me." She hums. "Oh, gosh, hosting is, like, 'wake up in a cold sweat' level of nightmare for me." Marley laughs, tucking loose hairs behind her ear. "I'll host my parents, but if friends come over, it has to be super casual, like pizza delivery and a movie, otherwise I'll overthink the whole time."

    “   sometimes   you're   harder   on   yourself   than   anyone   else   would   be   ,   and   that   can   stop   you   from   really   moving   forward   if   you   stay   hung   up   on   something   most   people   don't   pay   any   mind   to   anymore   .   but   giving   yourself   grace   is   a   lot   harder   than   it   sounds   .   ”   regret   and   guilt   were   two   feelings   that   weighed   tons   and   felt   even   heavier   ,   letting   go   of   those   burdens   was   a   years   -   long   process   and   definitely   something   to   be   worked   through   in   therapy   .   “   really   ?   i'm   the   opposite   .   love   crowds   ,   love   hosting   ,   i   was   always   the   type   to   have   people   over   every   other   day   for   dinner   parties   and   so   on   .   think   i've   slowed   down   a   bit   now   ,   but   i'm   still   not   one   to   rush   out   of   a   gathering   .   ”   what   other   opportunity   would   she   have   to   meet   new   people   if   not   those   scenes   ? 

[dcrkcloud]

"At least if we had a stage, we could contain the performances to a singular, least dangerous space. Can't pop a hip into the corner of a display or knock over a customer with a disco move." Thankfully, all their current employees seemed to be, to Cleo's knowledge, fairly normal, or as some may say, boring, so it shouldn't be much more than a funny thought. "Oh, that's genius. With the outfits and everything? Photoshop can do amazing things, you know. They did it in the first movie, too," she had seen it too many times to count, and definitely too many to admit, "we'd be Milo and the Dynamos. Cleo and the Dynamos? I could see us in those big sleeves, the shoulder pads."

“such  a  shame,  i  bet  you  could  really  bust  a  move  if  you  gave  it  your  all."  not  that  theodora  was  a  dancer  herself  by  any  means,  but  she  thinks  she  could  get  by  (  on  a  night  out  mostly  –  nothing  choreographed  ).  “well  i  think  it's  just  best  we  don't  suggest  a  stage  around  here.  for  the  sake  of  everyone  involved,  of  course.”  she  doesn't  know  if  cleo  is  truly  as  bad  as  she  makes  herself  out  to  be,  but  she'll  go  along  with  the  joke.  “oh,  super  trouper  seems  like  the  OBVIOUS  GROUP  NUMBER,  no  ?  or  am  i  just  thinking  that  because  it  was  the  credit  scene  in  mamma  mia:  here  we  go  again  ?”

[dcrkcloud]

"You just haven't found them yet." She chastises, pointed finger wagging. They're so young, there's so much time, but she can understand his doubts better than anyone. "Okay, okay, I'll be patient zero." Marley grins, cheeks quickly staining red. "That makes it sound like thinking you're cool is a disease, that's totally not what I meant, I'm so sorry." Her apologies are muffled through hearty, genuine laughter. "Oh, you know I will, as long as you return the favour whenever my time comes."

“i  don't  think  there's  a  single  person  on  this  earth  who  appreciates  me  EXACTLY  AS  I  AM.”  not  the  sexiest  sentiment  to  share  with  someone,  but  life  had  never  made  it  a  priority  to  make  him  feel  like  he  was  worth  anything.  “if  i  don't  have  you  to  think  i'm  cool,  i'll  literally  have  no  one.  come  on  marley,  i  need  the  numbers  !”  he  smiles,  though,  as  it  seems  he's  chosen  a  winning  pair  of  sunglasses.  “if  she  does,  would  you  plan  our  wedding  ?  you're  just  about  the  only  person  i'd  trust  for  the  job."

[dcrkcloud]

He's grateful that she takes the bait, shifting both his weight and the conversation off his aching knee. He wonders momentarily who'd grassed him up, but it makes no difference — he won't say anything, and she'd have noticed within moments of him being tugged back into the rescue by the excitable Labrador. "Better conversation than most humans, I'd guess." He grins, though he can't imagine it himself. A talker, no matter the circumstances, he could hold a chat with even the most stubborn of humans. "I only get the human ones?" He can't hold back his smile long enough to even pretend to be disappointed. "Human kind should do. Thank you. I swear that dog comes back with more energy than he left with."

She had asked him, more than once, if he was okay to take Thunder. The Labrador was a runner and she knew Mateo didn't always answer truthfully about his injuries. Being right was nice, but she'd prefer that he didn't hurt himself to appease her ego. So when one of her techs, mentioned him limping back to the rescue, she met him outside with an ice pack. She gave him a good talking to as she iced his leg, Thunder happily sitting next to the bench. "I have to be. Otherwise, it's just too quiet. Besides, they're talkative right back. The parrots will have full on conversations if you let them. You want a painkiller? Human kind of course."

[dcrkcloud]

Unfortunately, Cleo's seen enough hidden camera karaoke videos to worry about these things. They'd almost all been to poke light-hearted fun at another celebrity or musician, but she'd been that once upon a time, so the doubt still lingered. It didn't mean she overthought a simple night of singing with friends, but it did mean she made a conscious effort not to get too drunk, just in case. "You were fine!" She laughs softly as she shakes her head. Her grin grows. "Everyone cracks on the high note, that's part of the fun." She's already considering her options, even thinking of pulling out her phone to check her well hidden Karaoke Gems playlist. "Now that sounds like a podcast I'd listen to." She'd once thought her lack of interest was her fleeting attention span — most episodes seemed to be an hour, and those that were shorter didn't seem to say enough to be worth listening to — but it seems fair to say she'd just much rather listen to music. "Aw, but the internet loves an idiotic man with a mic!"

"I mean, I hope they don't record us. I know they have cameras so people don't damage the equipment, or like, fuck in here. But I really hope they don't record the singing, I'd be mortified! I mean, you heard me crack on that high note!" She exclaimed, dragging her hands down her face. She was being silly, as usual. At the beginning, she kept herself a little more lowkey, afraid that Cleo would view her as a weird fan. But instead that had a lot in common and were cool with each other, they were equals. Plus, Cleo thought she sounded good! "Um, probably about how beautiful and wonderful and smart and talented and sexy we are! I have so much to say and people would be honored to hear it. Better me than some idiot redpill guy. Now, pick a song so I can cheer you on!"

[dcrkcloud]

"Exactly. Sometimes I want easy reading and sometimes I want something to rip my heart out my chest. Different books for different days, different moods." Daphne sighs contently, already itching to get home and pick another novel off her shelf. She usually carried something with her, but her Kindle had needed charging and she's in that in-between stage of finishing the last book she read, but not yet picking the next. "Did you see that one they did a while back for Winnie The Pooh once the copyright had lapsed? They've made it into a whole universe, like they're Marvel or something." Her nose scrunches in disgust. Maybe somewhere amongst the rolling credits it's a passion project for someone, but it seemed more like a reactionary cash grab to Daphne.

"Sometimes that's what you want, but I get what you're saying. That other times, you need more substance." Truthfully Tabby read weird books of all genres, stuff under lists titled 'Weird Books for Weird Girls'. "I mean, there technically is a murder in the movie... But even with it, I think it would be hard to make that a graphic horror. Besides, Bendy already did it. So anything else would just be derivative. I like mascot horror but the market's become so oversaturated." This time, she rolled her eyes. She had been a FNAF fan since the beginning, so seeing all the cash grabs just copying the idea made her seethe a little. It was nice that Daphne kind of understood what she meant. "Thank you! God, I really should be, I'm brilliant."

[dcrkcloud]

by clicking the source link you will find 58 gifs of alisha boe in season 2 of the buccaneers (2025). alisha is an american actress of norweigan and somali descent and was aged around 27 at time of filming. these gifs have been minimally edited, please feel free to do with them as you wish. 

this is a wip and i plan on updating weekly as episodes are released.

[dcrkcloud]

georgia: wait!! how are we only just finding out about this!! georgia: a perfect name for such a cute kitty 🥰 georgia: can't believe we're aunts now... aunticitas... georgia: so when can we come over and meet our nephew??

letty: so ummmm... letty: i don't know how to tell you guys this buy i already adopted a kitten!!! letty: like ... a week ago his name is mittens 🥹 letty: [ 1 photo attached ] @dcwnfalls @dcrkcloud

[dcrkcloud]

"I feel like Bowie has to be the obvious answer." Cleo shrugs, reorganising the records no one ever seems capable of putting back in the right place. "I did do Spice Girls with some friends one year, though. I was Baby Spice, believe it or not." For a moment, she glances around her, hoping no one who actually knew her had heard. There's a handful of people in her life that would have never let her forget admitting something like that — and a narrower few who might go as far as to find the pictures online.

▸ Mango Bay Records

▸ open || @palmviewstarters

“Hey, Briefcase full of Blues. Can I just say, one of the easiest Halloween costume ever,” Felipe held up the vinyl, showcasing the cover to the other person skimming through the records that afternoon. Way back in the day, the famous Blues Brothers look was the go-to costume. He still had the Halloween spirit, though nowadays it was easier just to buy a cheap mask the day of. He placed the record in the definitely buying pile and continued to browse, “If you had to rock a musicians look for Halloween who’d you pick? No cop outs here.”

[dcrkcloud]

A breathy laugh escapes her as she pulls back the chair, sits with a little more grace than she usually does. Milo has a way with words, one Cleo's thankfully become accustomed to. She doesn't get chance to reply before he's flagging down a waiter, and she waits until he's gone to add, "well, you can always dock it from my pay," with a grin. She settles a little further into her seat. "The customers today tested my very thin patience." A sigh, another shuffle of her legs, one ankle now hooked behind the other. If either of them were anyone else, she'd question whether she should be admitting any of this to anyone with the power to fire her at will. "Far too many times today I went into the back just to breathe for a minute and come back out and say we didn't have whatever they were looking for."

“  wouldn't  care  if  you  did  ,  ”  he  muses  ,  taking  a  sip  of  his  own  drink  .  he  meant  it  in  a  kind  way  ,  the  way  his  tone  lifts  ,  but  in  typical  milo  nature  —  he  fears  it  comes  off  the  wrong  way  .  he  nods  towards  the  open  seat  ,  inviting  her  to  sit  down  .  “  was  that  your  subtle  way  of  asking  me  to  buy  you  a  drink  ?  ”  he  pauses  ,  flagging  down  a  waiter  .  “  one  daiquiri  please  .  ”  he  wastes  no  time  ,  turning  back  to  her  .  “  so  was  work  that  insufferable  that  you  needed  to  come  let  some  steam  off  ?  i  don't  blame  you  .  the  customers  sucked  today  .  like  the  one  who  insisted  we  were  withholding  merchandise  in  the  back  ?  gimme  a  break  .  ”

[dcrkcloud]

Georgia can't help but think her worn, stained apron really should give it away. "Neither, I work here." Her tone dry, ends of loose strands framing her tired face even more so, she tilts her head to the side. "Do you want me to take anything away? Or get you anything else?" She wouldn't usually ask, customer service not her strong point, but she's cleaning the table space beside him and she can't afford to disappoint her boss again this week. Dropping a delivery right outside the buyer's front door had been enough. Even she'd pinched her nose as she recalled the story. She'd have been better off lying that she'd gotten hungry on the way. "By the looks of you, you're here for the identity crisis, right? Shame, the pizza's actually pretty good."

location   :     ocean's edge pizzeria . status   :     open   .  (  @palmviewstarters )

he  sat  at  the  high-top  near  the  window,     one  leg  stretched  out  under  the  table,     the  other  bent  up  on  the  rung  of  the  stool.     a  slice  of  margherita  pizza  drooped  in  his  hand,     half-forgotten  as  he  watched  the  surf  roll  in  slow  and  steady  just  beyond  the  patio  railing.     outside,     the  sun  was  inching  westward.     inside  smelled  like  melted  mozzarella,     fresh  basil,     and  slightly  overworked  air  conditioning.     the  kind  of  place  where  the  jukebox  still  played  2000s  hits  like  someone  forgot  to  update  the  playlist  and  no  one  cared  enough  to  fix  it.     joon  leaned  back,     dragging  a  hand  through  his  hair  before  looking  up  —  half-bored,     half-curious.     “  ...  you  come  here  for  the  pizza  or  the  identity  crisis?  ” 

[dcrkcloud]

Is it really considered 'getting lost' if she's lived here for thirteen years? She's just taking a walk along the beach — albeit a much quieter, less picturesque stretch of sand than where all the fun usually happens, but a beach walk still by its simplest definition.

"Well, that's a lot better than what I'm doing. Me and that crab have more in common than I'm sure any of us thought." She laughs, cheeks rosy with embarrassment. She'll admit, she ended up here because of a swift left turn she'd taken to avoid seeing someone. Not just a left turn, but a few more, and a few rights mixed in for good measure. Marley isn't prehistoric though, she does have a smartphone with GPS, but it'd been peaceful down here, and she didn't technically have anywhere to be. "Can I be sort of both? Local, sort of, and sort of visiting if you use the term really loosely?" At the offer, she stiffens. "Really? Knowing my luck, he'll attack me."

Location: Beach (of course) Status: OPEN | @palmviewstarters

Sadie’s crouched near the shoreline, sand clinging to her knees, fingers gently cradling what appears to be a confused (and slightly grumpy) horseshoe crab. Her surfboard’s stuck upright in the sand nearby, wetsuit unzipped to the waist and hanging loose around her hips.

She’s talking to the crab like it’s a toddler who wandered off at the grocery store.

“Buddy. You are so not supposed to be here.” A pause. Then, to no one in particular - maybe the wind, maybe the sky:

“I mean, same, but still.”

She notices someone watching. Blinks. Smiles a little sheepishly.

“Don’t mind me, just trying to save a prehistoric sea bug from certain death. No pressure or anything.” She glances back at the crab. “And you need to stop pretending you’re lost on purpose.”

Beat. Her eyes flick back up again, brighter this time.

“You local, or just visiting the weird part of the beach today?”

Then, without waiting,

“Wanna help me put him back?”

[dcrkcloud]

Mateo didn't even know what was on tonight. In fact, he'd made a point to avoid the board, an easy feat for a guy who didn't even have a car currently, just hijacked a friend's date on the promise he'd be out of their hair before the film starts. He's browsing the concession stand, trying to decide what he's in the mood for both on the big screen and with his soda, when a voice pipes up from beside him.

"Ghosts, no," He answers with a confidence that is bold despite it's complete lack of research, "aliens, yes." It hadn't been what she'd asked, but it's usually somewhere in the follow-up questions. "If ghosts were real, don't you think we'd notice more of them? Like I'd like to believe it, but you can't tell me we have billions of people alive on this Earth, but only like five ghosts per town. Surely there'd be more ruckus?" He pauses, just long enough to take in another deep breath. "Unless they can't, but isn't that why people believe? Because they think something moved on its own or heard a noise."

Location: Tidepool Drive-In (the drive-in is cursed again. Allegedly.) Status: OPEN || @palmviewstarters

There’s a flicker in the projector bulb. Barely noticeable unless you’re paying close attention - which, unfortunately, Quinn always is.

She sighs, muttering something under her breath that probably includes a curse word and definitely includes, "Not again." It’s the third technical glitch this week, and some regulars are already calling it ‘Final Destination-coded,’ like that’s cute. She thinks it’s just outdated wiring. Or ghosts. Hard to say.

She steps away from the concession stand, tugging her hoodie tighter around her and scanning the crowd gathering for tonight’s double feature: The Others and The Babadook. Fitting. Everyone’s in sweaters and moods, the air thick with popcorn and the kind of tension that only happens before a jump scare.

Quinn pops the cap on her soda, glances sideways, and then says - without looking -

"If this place goes full Poltergeist, I’m not saving anyone but myself. Just so we’re clear."

She pauses. Then turns, eyes sharp but half-smiling.

"You look like someone who either believes in ghosts or really wants to argue with someone who does."

Beat.

"So. Which is it?"

[dcrkcloud]

"Oh, no, thank you." His dismissal is polite, punctuated with a smile. He's seen it work for plenty of people in life, but his physical health was precious in his line of work — how much so he's finally seeing in action. Some things are unavoidable, but this had never been a question, just a firm line. "I guess so. Makes sense." Mateo mumbles back, not much the reflective type. Even now, he pointedly doesn't think back over the last few months, that day. It's easier not to. "Now you sound like a creative." He eventually teases, grin growing again. The shift in the conversation is welcome, the uncertainty that had started to creep in long forgotten. "Sounding like a worn out poet. I'm sure you could squeeze a rhyme in there somewhere."

The words are so simple, so obvious, but it causes Mateo's fingers to stutter in their tapping against his thigh. The world doesn't need us as much as we want it to. As much had been true for his career. Another stunt double had taken his place within twenty-four hours, the film back on track despite his own life derailing. He hadn't been naive enough to think the whole world would stop for him to get back on his feet, but being left behind, forgotten about— That's a pain that sits deeper than the ache in his knee. It makes him question whether there'll still be space for him when he returns. It's all more of those thoughts he'd been trying to ignore. "Let it happen... Easier said than done when you're restless and bothering your friends to entertain you all day every day." He laughs, bringing it back around to a joke, like he always does.

he  let  out  a  low  hum  —    one  of  those  gravel-thick  sounds  that  sat  somewhere  between  agreement  and  melancholy   —as  he  passed  the  blunt  back  without  looking,     his  gaze  still  pinned  to  that  burning  strip  of  orange  sinking.     “  yeah,  ”    he  drawled,     slow  like  molasses.    “  but  maybe  that’s  the  point.     s’posed  to  be  fleeting.     makes  you  pay  attention.  ”     his  shoulder  brushed  mateo’s  when  he  shifted,     just  enough  pressure  to  say  i’m  still  here  without  interruptin’  the  quiet  that’d  settled  between  ‘em.     that  same  half-smirk  was  back,     lazy  and  lopsided,     tugging  at  the  corner  of  his  mouth  like  it  didn’t  know  whether  it  belonged  to  a  joke  or  a  truth.    “  an’  hell,  ”     he  added,     exhaling  smoke  in  a  slow  ribbon  skyward,     “  inspiration’s  a  rude  houseguest  anyway.     don’t  show  up  when  you  got  room  for  it  —  only  kicks  in  the  door  when  you’re  half-naked  and  tryna  sleep.  ”    the  tease  was  there,     sure,     but  there  was  weight  behind  it  too.     a  kind  of  worn-out  honesty,     like  he  was  holding  his  words  the  same  way  someone’d  hold  a  chipped  mug  —  still  useful,     still  his,     even  if  the  cracks  showed.

he  glanced  sidelong  again,     this  time  longer,     watching  the  way  mateo  stretched  that  leg  out,     how  the  tension  rode  his  shoulders  even  when  he  tried  to  relax.     dax  didn’t  say  nothin’  about  it  —  just  let  the  moment  breathe.     “  slowing  down  don’t  come  easy  to  most  folks.  ”     he  said  after  a  beat.     “  but  you  ain’t  gotta  be  good  at  it.     just  gotta  let  it  happen.  ”    his  thumb  rubbed  absently  at  a  faint  smudge  of  ash  near  his  knee,     voice  dropping  a  little,     quieter  now.     “  sometimes  i  think  the  world  don’t  need  us  as  much  as  we  want  it  to.     that’s  the  bitch  of  it,     huh?  ”    then,     with  a  small  huff  of  a  laugh,     he  nodded  toward  the  horizon,     the  last  sliver  of  sun  melting  down  like  sugar  in  warm  tea.     “  still.     we’re  here.    watchin’.    that  counts  for  somethin’.  ”