full-tiltboogiearc - Tumblr blog

[full-tiltboogiearc]

this blog is now an archive! please follow my new blog here. >>

[full-tiltboogiearc]

this blog is now an archive! please follow my new blog here. >>

[full-tiltboogiearc]

this blog is now an archive! please follow my new blog here. >>

[full-tiltboogiearc]

this blog is now an archive! please follow my new blog here. >>

[full-tiltboogiearc]

this blog is now an archive! please follow my new blog here. >>

[full-tiltboogiearc]

Revenge is never a straight line. It’s a forest, And like a forest it’s easy to lose your way… To get lost… To forget where you came in.

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BAE SUZY as Lee Doona in DOONA! (2023)

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JUST A LITTLE PSA FOR YOU 

I don’t care when or if you reply to me. I write to develop a character that I adore. I write for ideas. I write for a lot of reasons but none of those are to do with you. I write for myself. 

I care about you as a person not as a character. Sure, there is a moment when we first start writing where that line blurs and you are your character for a hot second. But that’s more fun and less bothersome- plus it only lasts until we start talking out of character or in the tags. 

I don’t care about what we do on Tumblr NEARLY AS MUCH as I care about YOU so if you’re not feeling a reply? Fuck it. Don’t reply to it. Ever. We can always do another one, it’s fine. I’m gonna save my reply cause I worked on that and am proud of it but- whether or not you reply is not my concern. Because you have things going on that need taking care of. Because you have a life and health concerns and fucking crazy world issues that are going on, I get it. 

I adore you, my friend. And friendship, to me, is not letting petty issues or feelings get in the way of the big picture. 

[full-tiltboogiearc]

THE WALKING DEAD 1.05

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Sally Jackson, the woman mother that you are.

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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂 — BOLD / ITALICIZE what applies.

𝚂𝙾𝚄𝙽𝙳𝚂.

tinkling of piano keys / the click of a lock / an engine starting, stalling / sinful whispers / stifled sobbing / the rattle of death / alarm blaring / a siren call / spanish guitar strumming / loud laughter at midnight / banshee screeching / drunk hiccuping / the giggle of a child / rolling thunder / disdainful chuckling / bones creaking / carefree whistling / singing off key / flesh hitting concrete / white noise / a mirror cracking / laboured breathing / a groan of pain / waves lapping at the shore / the roar of a lion / pages turning / swords clashing / deep humming / birds chirping / dial tone / tongue popping / fingers tapping a surface / crystals breaking / music turned up to the limit / raindrops on a roof / angry yelling / yawning at noon / horns going off / ravens talking / bubblegum bursting / splashing water / teakettle squeal / militia drums / wolves howling / slow, sarcastic clapping / soprano notes / whispering pleas / gregorian chants / mournful cries.

𝚅𝙸𝚂𝚄𝙰𝙻𝚂.

filled notebooks / dogeared books / clean shaves / empty stares / sleeping at a desk / the witching hour / driving all night / restless tides / broken windows / coffee any time / freshly baked goods / bonfires / lounging felines / circles under your eyes / bedhead / tangling in the sheets / leather jackets / paint stains / music sheets / too many tabs to find the music / weary brows / card games / messy ponytails / strained smiles / unsent texts / heart on your sleeve / slow dancing in the rain / star gazing / torn jeans / piles of clothes / filled bookshelves / hurricanes / chapped lips / cliff diving / the lights in venice / stolen kisses / poet shirts / half melted candles / empty coffee mugs / hot tea / unlaced boots / shameless flirting / too young to be so old / laced fingers / eyes in the trees / bloody knuckles / french letters / neon lights / ivy covered balconies

𝚂𝙲𝙴𝙽𝚃𝚂.

burnt leaves / turkish coffee / spiced rum / moss / vanilla beans / freshly cut grass / decay / sea salt / strawberries and cream / cinnamon / honey / copper / pineapple / wet dog / pine needles / wood shavings / rainsoaked bark / something sharp, indefinable / russian tea / dandelions / squeezed limes / italian wine / freshly laundered clothes / coming rain / hardtack and gruel / roasting flesh / something cloying in the chest / ichor / lillies in spring / pollen / damp clothes / meatpies / greasy coins / curdled milk / leather / bone marrow / wet cement / ricecakes / open paint cans / cocoa leaves / tar / apples / sandlewood cologne / orchids / molded onions / cheap perfume / mistletoe / rubber on fire / grave dirt / old books / new books / melting plastic / roses / poison oak / seacucumbers / peppermint.

tagged by: @draconisa & @facepeeled tysm babes!!

tagging: @falscgcds @freekzout @someotherdog @thewolfruns @lvebug and anyone else who'd like to!!

[full-tiltboogiearc]

@falscgcds //

You wouldn't typically find Kirk amongst the last-minute shoppers at the mall, but there's a first time for everything, and of course, the first time he agrees to do a Secret Santa among his friends he scores someone he's not super close with. Well, he knows of the person whose name he chose, but not much about them—just that they're one of Joey's friends, maybe a fling at one point, he's not too sure.

He mazes his way through the busy department store with their gift in his hand, his ADHD for once proving helpful as he avoids all of the fixtures. As keen as his senses are, they're not enough; a second later, someone bumps into him and sends him practically backward, crashing into someone else. And after that, he's not so sure how bad it's all dominoed. What he knows is that the guy who bumped into him was an asshole who sped away, and the person he ran into was now on the shiny floor. And Kirk's bag was sitting right next to them, too, but he didn't care about that as much as he did about helping her up.

"Shit," he says, hoisting them to their feet. "You alright? I'm so, so sorry 'bout that. What a class act that guy was, huh?"

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A fish Set is not, but she's doing her best. Rubbing her mittens together, touching them to the top of her hair and creating static. Busies herself with that for a second before letting out a gasp at the notion of hot chocolate.

"Hot apple cider sounds like drinking piss willingly," she says with a snicker, "but hot chocolate. That's, like, a little piece of heaven." She has no clue what Heaven with a capital H is like—her kind is forbidden from there—but she's sure it's got something to do with the creamy deliciousness that is mortal-made chocolate. It's always been her favorite.

She wears a smile, bumped to the side a bit from the collision with Reggie, but it's alright because she's that much closer to the hot chocolate stand. Eventually the pair are at the tail of the line. "You got Christmas plans, Reg? Big family gathering to go to?"

"It's not too bad." Reggie comments, her gaze on the ground momentarily before glancing around the market; with the amount of time she's spent outside, Reggie's built the tolerance of a fish. "I'm sure there's like — hot chocolate or something? Hot apple cider, I think that's something people do?" She suggests, turning her attention to Set, her shoulder softly bumping against the other girls as they walked. She just wanted some pine scented candles and now she was questioning everything she didn't know about the holiday's, is eggnog supposed to be hot? the hell is apple cider anyway?

[full-tiltboogiearc]

Nobody, and I mean nobody calls him Rich except for her, and Richie seethes any time he hears that nickname. Once something so sacred, it was spoken at sweet moments—when they were in bed, over breakfast, when she wanted him to reach for something higher up and she was eating her pride. Now it usually bookends profanities: Fuck you, Rich! or Oh, Rich, don't be such a jackass.

He nods, gesturing for her to keep going; that he doesn't need to be lectured about having manners given his age and status in life. Plus, there wasn't really anyone around to behave in front of. Whoever's inside The Beef already knows what he's like. In fact, he's convinced they come here just to see him. Like how you'd go to a zoo to check on your favorite penguin.

"Religious cult?" he echoes, suppressing laughter. "Are people still stupid enough to fall for that stuff? I thought we eradicated that in the 80s." Obviously, not everyone's as street-savvy as he is.

He downs the next bite of his beef with a scalding hot coffee. The way it burns the roof of his mouth, keeps him alive!

But he nearly chokes on his food whenever he hears that the woman hasn't told their daughter she's going to be gone for a while—especially during the most wonderful time of the year. He makes a sound like he ate something bad.

"Are you serious? If you haven't told her yet, you've missed your chance. She's gonna be pissed and sad no matter when you tell her, you might as well do it when she's opening her presents. A big ole' fuck you with a big shiny bow on it. And finally, I get to be the better parent." He's not making anything better, he's sure, but rubbing it in Chessie's face is kinda nice, especially when everybody thinks she's the more responsible one.

"When exactly do you plan on telling her, then?"

She frowns slightly. Had been looking forward to seeing some of the others, like Sydney. Didn't know who this new person was, but hoped they would mind their business seeing her and Richie interact.

It's quiet inside. Feels off, compared to the other times she had been here. The Beef seemed to thrive off of chaos, and so did its employees. Having only a couple of people in here, picking at their food, with no screaming cooks in the background made it seem like a whole different restaurant.

Nodding, she takes a seat on one of the old stools. Creaky, feels like it could fall at any given moment. No doubt the original from all those years ago. Chessie's eyes wander, although most of the things here were things she had already seen. It really hadn't changed, although she did know that Carmy had plans on making it something it wasn't.

The blonde is quick to pick up a few fries. Didn't realize how hungry she was until food was set in front of her. Chewing quietly, she looks over at Richie. "Manners, Rich." Sounds as if she's scolding Teddy (which she has, chewing with her mouth open and talking no doubt a habit she had picked up from her father.)

"When have I ever been sent to Paris or Milan?" She asks him. "Los Angelos. We're investigating some religious cult that's growing over there. The guy in charge, he's wanted for...well, he's wanted for a lot." Too much to even list, not that she should be sharing any of this with her ex.

"Teddy doesn't know I'm leaving yet. I don't have the heart to tell her that I'll be leaving the day after Christmas. She looks forward to seeing us on her breaks from school." Chessie sighs. Wishes she could get into something else, but she was too dedicated to the job to quit. Believed that she was making a difference, a safer world for their daughter to grow up in. "I know what you all think. That I need to be more of a dedicated mother. But I'm doing this for her, Rich." // @full-tiltboogie

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Just realized that the reason I love making friends on tumblr is because it’s exactly how you make friends on the playground as a six year old. No, I don’t know their name but they love mermaids too and built this awesome sand castle. No, I don’t know their age but their imaginary cheetah is friends with mine. You like this show? You like this character?? You can sing the theme song really loud??? Here is a flower crown. Here is a juice box. You can share my time and I might never see you again but part of you stays in my soul forever. In my mind we’re still on the swing set and the sky is blue and nothing will ever be wrong again.

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Twyla gives him a look, a look like you're disgusting, but keep going, and cracks a grin. "Trent Kay Jr., does everything in your life gotta revolve around horses?" She's scolding him but she's being sweet about it. No woman wants to be compared to a horse—there's nothing sexy about it, but at the same time, she knows that's high praises coming from someone like him. So she snickers, offers him a sarcastic curtsy, then turns around, put-putting out of his trailer like a model anyway. Of course, he brushes right past her, not noticing when she's actually trying.

Boys'll be boys.

She does him the favor of locking up his trailer for him even though the metal of the lever handle hot to the touch. Damn, she is done with hot weather for good! Get her on the next plane to Alaska. After a few seconds, she hops down the stairs. "I'm comin', I'm comin'."

=

The path to the watering hole is less a path than it is a rough sketch of where to go. Twyla, who's lived at the trailer park for almost two hands, could probably get to the water with her eyes closed. First, you walk past the junkyard, wave to Terrance if he's over there scrapping cars. You know you're going the right direction when you get a whiff of burgers on the grill; that's Mowgli's Resto and Rest Stop to the east. Eventually, you'll come across a tree line—the outside of Two River Park. Venture in and you'll find one of the two rivers; one of them is closed off to preserve fish and algae and all that good stuff. The other one is a free-for-all.

All within a ten minute walk.

Twyla's really feeling it in her wedged flip flops, but she's staying strong. When she wants to distract herself from discomfort, she'll pick on someone else. Lovingly, of course.

"I can't believe all you got in your trailer's eggs and soda. It's a miracle how you got to your big age," she says, arms up daintily to keep her balance as she trudges through loose logs and fallen branches. Two River Park's got a nice enough trail but it's not well kept, especially this time of year, and double-especially since before you know it, the hoteliers and whoever else moving in to the area are gonna want to tear it all down anyway.

"You're lucky you got me, is all I'm sayin'."

One more step and Twyla's in front of the—

"What the hell?"

It's empty.

"What happened?"

The watering hole is bone dry; a 16-foot-deep, crater of what once was. Twyla takes off her sunglasses, her lip quivering. "It wasn't like this last month. No way it's dried up this fast." She squints her eyes at something in the distance, at the center of the watering hole. It's an old well. A breeze blows tumbleweeds past it.

"I swam across this whole thing before and I don't remember ever seein' no well. Are they gonna build somethin' here?"

No one ever told him the world works on a schedule, which is why if he hadn't had left school at sixteen, the 8am start time viewed as a gentle guide would'a probably got him kicked out anyways. Trent's practically ready anyways, gone and fed the horses, taken each of 'em for a ride and come back here to shower off the coat of sweat which will be replenished in an hour, give or take. He's even dressed, though a pair of swim trunks doesn't take much thought to coordinate.

It's on him that he's still rubbin' oil between his palms, rakin' it through his beard when he hears her voice. Come round whenever, is sorta how they do things. Trent dips out of the bathroom to greet her, wiping the residue on his trunks and letting out an obnoxious wolf whistle. "Lookin' good." Twyla's got legs for days, or it might just be whatever she's got goin' on on her feet — "No way those exists. They clop like a horse?" He asks, grinning. Trent would worry 'bout her ankles but he thinks he's seen her in some kinda heel more than he has in normal shoes.

"Sure am," Even though he's reaching back for his deodorant, swiping it on real quick, one more look in the mirror, and now he's ready, for real. "'Preciate it, think I all I got here is half a carton of eggs and an opened diet Coke." He admits, grocery shopping ain't his thing — though he's lookin' around like he has something to contribute other than himself. Couldn't even find his beach towel, but figures he don't need it with how hot it is outside.

"I'm goin', I'm goin'!" Saunters right past her, swiping his shades from the counter. Outside he turns back toward her, Coleman in hand, a false, picture-perfect image of a guy whose never been late in his life. "You ready yet or what?" He pokes, annoyingly.

[full-tiltboogiearc]

ADAM DRIVER as MILLS                 Every ADAM DRIVER scene from 65 (2023)| Part 222