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

working on the Great Big Move as we speak, and i will be checking my archived account periodically for any stray threads to shift over. <3

[mutatedangels-a]

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

working on the Great Big Move as we speak, and i will be checking my archived account periodically for any stray threads to shift over. <3

[mutatedangels-a]

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

working on the Great Big Move as we speak, and i will be checking my archived account periodically for any stray threads to shift over. <3

[mutatedangels-a]

John Kramer was right. The spiral: a symbol of change, evolution, progress. SPIRAL: FROM THE BOOK OF SAW (2021) dir. Darren Lynn Bousman

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rules//about

Nova: refers to a star that appears as a sudden, bright light that gradually fades into the night sky. 

indie fandomless original character, written and adored by mia

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Jon Bernthal at Emerald City Comic Con on 2016

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7 hours late but reblogging to say i had a typo, i meant drafting* instead of queueing bc my queue is totally empty ahhh

hi y’all!! work is so busy lately as i’m trying to meet some deadlines this upcoming week + next… motivation is pretty low atm, so apologies for late dms and thread replies!! i luv y’all and hope you have an amazing monday. <3

[mutatedangels-a]

eek, i haven’t had energy for any replies!! but i’m drafting threads as they get back to me. reminder that i luv y’all!!

hi y’all!! work is so busy lately as i’m trying to meet some deadlines this upcoming week + next… motivation is pretty low atm, so apologies for late dms and thread replies!! i luv y’all and hope you have an amazing monday. <3

[mutatedangels-a]

THE HOST 괴물 (2006) dir. Bong Joon Ho

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MADISON DAVENPORT as KATE FULLER in FROM DUSK TILL DAWN || S1E03 - mistress

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#bookworm Beardthal Bash 2023 THE PUNISHER | 1.01

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2022 Film Diary:

DEATH PROOF 2007 | dir. Quentin Tarantino

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JENNIE; [BORN PINK] Band Practice Sketch

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...I will always love you. ♫

And that was The Cure with Lovesong, their newest single from this year's Disintegration, for one of our listeners, Bridget. A little bit about The Cure for those of you cool cats who don't know. About ten years ago, in 1978, they formed...

Static.

...The Cure are currently on a 24-city tour across the US, hitting Baton Rouge, Houston, and Montgomery down here in the south. And Bridget, you lucky girl, you called the right place at the right time, 'cause I'm sending you two tickets to the Houston show, right here in Texas. Christmas came early. I've been Jungle Julia, and you've been listening to Jungle Julia's Jams.

Noah pattered her fingers along the rubber steering wheel of her dad's 1974 El Camino, half-lidded eyes focused on the unlit road ahead. These desert roads were unforgiving: Despite it only being 5 p.m., this time of year, technically the south's "winter," the sun was nowhere to be found. Had already been absent for a good half hour already, when she first picked up Blair by the gas station. Her father would scold her for doing such a thing: You're already doing one reckless thing driving around to all these stupid horror movie auditions. Now I'm finding out you're picking up hitchhikers in my own Betsy? How dare you!

Betsy was cherry red and beautiful inside and out, but practically old enough to drink now. Just as Noah was. And her time was running out: the older she got, the less chance she'd have gracing the silver screen as the next budding scream queen. How old was Jamie Lee Curtis when she debuted as Laurie Strode over a decade ago now at this point? Noah was already in her mid-20s, running out of time as far as she knew. Besides, the horror movies were just that—horror movies. The chances of picking up a Leatherface wannabe were quite low. (After all, a chainsaw is kind of an obvious murder weapon...)

"Hey, don't mention it," Noah said, shaking her head. She looked over at him and flashed a smile; he seemed harmless enough. "It's dark, it's gonna rain later. We're headed in the same direction. Call it... saving the planet? Causing less emissions? Being a good person? Whatever—it just makes sense."

She took a deep breath and fixed her eyes back on the path ahead of them, illuminated just enough by her clouded headlights. Phil Collins' Thru These Walls started playing on the radio.

...I can hear through these walls I can hear it when they're foolin' around I can hear through these walls And I hear every sign, every sound I can hear through these walls In the dark with the shades pulled down. ♫

As the song flitted into its chorus, Noah laughed at Blair's words. "Yeah, my dad would probably kill me if he found out," she said. "I'm not as paranoid as him."

But she should have been.

She should have been.

A quick click and shing! caught Noah's attention, and before she knew it, she felt something sharp pressing up against her throat. Petrified, she kept her foot on the gas and her arms, once relaxed, now stiff as she held the steering wheel. She swallowed, but her throat was dry; and that very gesture pushed the knife ever deeper on the surface of her skin.

She didn't say she understood. She let out her attempt at a casual laugh, laced with nervousness. "Hey, this—you don't have to do this, you know," she said, trying to remain calm despite the pressure on her leg. "You can take the car, if that's what you want. And I won't tell anyone anything." // @someotherdog

@mutatedangels / the hitcher for blair & the muse of your choice! / a non-satanist verse for blair, he's a hitchhiking serial killer that's just been picked up by your muse (for whichever reason you decide). could be set in the eighties for extra fun, but not a requirement.

whoops! turns out when you murder people all over town, you might just get caught. that was the only reason blair was even wandering the southern highways. he made it out of his hometown of robichaux, louisiana by the skin of his teeth, so close to being arrested. luckily, small town sheriffs were stupid pretty much all across the board. so he went from one town to the next, hitchhiking along quiet state routes, and tried to indulge in his hobby as often as possible. sitting in the passenger seat of the stranger's car, blair held the most polite, gentlemanly smile possible—he had a lot of practice, twenty-seven years of being a good ol' boy before he finally learned the joys of death. it was all so easy for him. it sometimes took awhile, but inevitably, someone would give him a ride.

"i really do appreciate, y'know. so many people drove right on by and didn't even give me a glance." blair appeared truly grateful, and he was in his own way. his right hand was in his jeans' pocket, fingering the handle of his switchblade, twitching with anticipation. he knew he didn't look like much, but he was strong. and quick. the act of murder was so kinetic and exhausting but blair could do it forever. that's why he liked to tempt fate. it had been months since he started, and they never even came close to catching him since he left robichaux. kind of boring, honestly. blair became sloppier with each kill because he thought he was a god. the lack of capture proved it to him. even his victims weren't much of a challenge. he started out with the weak, then advanced to stronger prey. he started in the shadows, then became more blatant. he still liked the weak and the shadows, but they just tided him over. "i guess most people wouldn't take the risk of pickin' up a stranger, eh?"

even though he was able to keep up small talk for longer than he cared to, his patience was running thin. he retained his smile as he brought the knife out of his pocket. the blade flipped out. he was still smiling. "guess you ain't too smart then." quickly, he pressed the blade against their neck and used his other hand to press onto their knee, forcing their foot onto the gas with his ironlike grip. "now, don't try nothin'. this ain't my first rodeo, y'know? don't try to drive the car off the road or push me out the door. don't speed to get the attention of some police cruiser. those are old tricks and i'm bored of 'em, you understand? say you understand."

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"Trust me. She don't like it as much as you do," Ford remarked. Especially since the way the family said it, all ugly and Cajun-like—Suh-leel—sort of tarnished its beauty. Everybody at school called her Suh-leel because she corrected them at first when they called her So-lay, how it was apparently properly pronounced in French. She complained about it often; he told her it was her fault. "Beth's a nice name. It's simple. At least you ain't named after a truck."

Inaccurate. But Ford didn't know, and would never know, that his mother actually chose that name for him because of what it meant: the shallow part of a river or stream where one could step easily, enabling them to cross the water safely and get to the other side. And she chose it as a way for her to make peace with her past and greet her present; to accept that she had become a mother and could no longer pursue the dreams of her girlhood.

He pulled out a pistol, a 9MM GLOCK-9 that was light enough for the girl to carry. It was a standard training pistol; they would work up to the hunting rifle that Ford carried with him now another day. The principles were the same: aim and don't shoot unless you were absolutely sure. "Yeah, a few days after she and I found a good spot to hole up," he answered. "She was scared at first but I insisted. Told her it was a decision she was gon' have to make sooner or later, and better to do it with as much knowledge as she could have. To shoot. 'Cause every shot you take is a choice."

It was a motto that his old military sergeant, Skip, recited often. Every shot is a choice. The world-end didn't change that, Ford thought. He set his hunting rifle on the ground and pulled out another pistol, this time his own, one that he'd had ever since the outbreak. Ford cleared his throat before he gave her basic directions, first showing her the anatomy of the gun and then showing her the proper way to hold it. Eventually, he shot at a can, demonstrating.

"Your turn, if you feel ready." // @thesongbiird

It's oddly nice to spend time with him like this, things are quiet, peaceful, and there's a certain stillness that she feels inside of her. Maybe it's the freedom of being away from the watchful eyes of Maggie and her father. She loves them dearly but sometimes she feels smothered by their constant concern. She wants to learn how to cope in this new world but they block out her sunlight and she cannot grow. With Ford its different, he's allowing her and encouraging her to bloom.

"I am?" Beth can't help the smile that graces her features, she hadn't been trying to impress him or say the right thing but it seemed that naturally it had occurred and she felt an odd sense of pride. She likes Ford, she has a great deal of respect for him and to know that he thought she was right meant a lot to her. "Thanks."

She slips into the designated shooting area as he holds open the gate for them. Beth is reminded of the brief time back at the farm when Rick managed to persuade her father to allow them to do some shooting practice with Shane. Back then there were more of them, Jimmy and Patricia. She doesn't allow herself to think of them often, it's too painful and they can't afford to let their emotions slow them down anymore. Quickly, she tries to think of something else, focusing on Ford.

"Soleil is a beautiful name. Wish I had somethin' like that instead of plain old Beth." Beth paused, wondering if Ford and Soleil were anything like her and Maggie. "Did you teach her how to shoot too?"

@mutatedangels

[mutatedangels-a]

BARBIE as Barbie Dolls

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would it be too excessive to make another blackpink fc muse or—