#spot nose ball python

[nostalgiavoid]

Basil, my long son.

[fellowshipofthenoodles]

Spotted: Croc shoe

[id: the very tip of Second Breakfast’s nose poking out from behind a bamboo root. She is a white and yellow albino ball python]

[genderlessghoul]

Inspired by the recent puppy post from Motley Zoo and my undying love for animals, here's what I think each of the ghouls/ghoulettes would keep as a pet :

Phantom : He saw someone walking their dog his first week topside and made it his life mission to get one. After a lot of research and internal debate, he ended up adopting a pitbull/labrador mix from a local shelter. Her name is Petunia and she's the definition of sweet baby angel.

Mountain : He decided to fully commit to the farm boy aesthetic and he got himself some quails. They have their own coop and fenced little garden. They used to be have free range on the entire gardens but they'd always end up eating his vegetables. They look like tiny little chicks when he's holding them. He lets the other ghouls choose their name which unfortunately got him stuck with one called Cum. His favourite was affectionately named Nugget by Swiss.

Aether : Bunny. Tiny little miniature one too, all white except for a small black spot on its nose. It's free to roam around his room and Aether learned the hard way to hide any and all loose cables (more than once). He named it Dust. Because Dust Bunny. He swears it's funny.

Rain : AXOLOTL. She's albino and he named her Rose because of her pink little frill gills. He can understand her somehow, some weird water creature thing. She has a very simple brain tho and mostly screams at him for food. Dew and Swiss love to draw mustaches and hats on her tank with markers.

Dew : He has a black cat named Purrcifer. The cute little thing just started following him one day and Dew can't seem to get rid of him (not that he tried too hard). He says it's the Ministry's cat cuz he spends all day roaming around the ground and hunting mice, but the cat definitely sleeps in his bed every night.

Swiss : He swore he'd never get a pet, he's too unfocused to remember to take care of one properly. Until he accompanied Rain on a trip to the pet store and spotted a ball python. Love at first sight, just look at that puppy face. He spent weeks doing research and was pleased to learn that they only eat like once a week? Maybe every two weeks? That's perfect. He got a huuuge female and named her Fluffy. Fluffy is his pride and joy.

Aurora : Ferret. She wanted a cat at first but she discovered that they came in noodle format and was like !!!YES!!! She taught him fetch. They play with paper balls. He's stolen other ghouls' snacks on multiple occasions.

Sunshine : She really wanted a chameleon but she saw how high maintenance the suckers are and settled for a crested gecko. It doesn't officially have a name because it wouldn't recognize it anyway. Definition of no thought, head empty. Most times, she calls it NO STOP DON'T JUMP THERE. She loves it so fuckin much.

Cumulus : She has the cutest blue budgie. She taught it so many tunes that they sing together all day long. It loves nothing more than to hang on her shoulder all day and watch her do her tasks. One of its many favourite sounds to imitate is the ringtone of whoever's in the room with them. No one knows how it learned to differentiate them all.

Cirrus : She set up a pretty little saltwater tank in her room. It's home to two clownfish and their anemone. They're called Led Zeppelin and Metallica, no she will not take criticism on the name. The tank is very beautifully decorated and everyone keeps bugging her to put up a big one in the common room, which she always refuses cuz she doesn't trust any of them with salt water.

[cutestbabyanimalbracket]

All round one results are in! Let's say congratulations to our winners, listed from widest to narrowest margin:

72.3 points: Snow Leopard, defeated Grey Butcherbird

68.3 points: Striped Skunk, defeated Australian Pelican

66.4 points: Piping Plover, defeated Keel-Billed Toucan

59.8 points: Black Footed Cat, defeated Barnacle Goose

58.7 points: Masked Lapwing, defeated Eastern Red Bat

58.1 points: Egyptian Fruit Bat, defeated American Bullfrog

53.9 points: Tawny Frogmouth, defeated Star-Nosed Mole

51.8 points: Sea Otter, defeated Australian Magpie

51.0 points: American Alligator, defeated Inchworm

50.5 points: Asian Elephant, defeated Silkworm

50.2 points: Southern Pudu, defeated American Black Bear

49.2 points: Least Weasel, defeated Crayfish

44.7 points: Mini Lop Rabbit, defeated Domestic Guinea Pig

42.9 points: Great Purple Emperor, defeated Pygmy Seahorse

42.2 points: Lesser Hedgehog Tenrec, defeated Tardigrade

42.2 points: White-Tailed Deer, defeated Dumbo Octopus

41.4 points: Pygmy Goat, defeated Arctic Tern

36.8 points: Veiled Chamaeleon, defeated Barn Owl

36.2 points: Leopard Gecko, defeated Orca

34.8 points: Harp Seal, defeated African Forest Buffalo

27.0 points: Spectacled Flying Fox, defeated Gerenuk

26.1 points: Ball Python, defeated Okapi

25.1 points: Wild Boar, defeated Red Fox

22.9 points: Killdeer, defeated English Shorthorn

18.4 points: Clouded Leopard, defeated Capybara

16.4 points: South American Coati, defeated Ribbon Eel

15.6 points: Spotted Hyena, defeated Platypus

15.4 points: Tree Swallow, defeated Wild Turkey

12.4 points: Orchid Mantis, defeated Pygmy Slow Loris

8.7 points: Fairy Penguin, defeated Pygmy Hippo

5.4 points: Giant Pacific Octopus, defeated Aardwolf

2.1 points: Australian Owlet-Nightjar, defeated Spectral Tarsier

I'm gonna take at least a day or two before queueing up round 2. Unless I receive overwhelming feedback otherwise, I will again use a random number generator for the matchups, and use the same graphics (with taxonomic info) for each animal. However,

[truedarkhunter]

A look at Snake's snakes

I noticed there were more up-close looks at some of Snake's ophidian friends. So I took a few moments to stare at them and try to determine the species. Some are very likely, others are best guesses, but it's still a fun exercise. I started with the notes online with the kuro fan-site then expanded them.

Johnathan is a rattlesnake (called the “Old Man” by the others.) Likely a Western diamondback given the ridge over the eye.

Emily:  Kingsnake (false coral snake)  She has the red touching black, so false-attack.  The bands are wider than on Milk Snakes. Bronte:  Looks to be about 2 feet long and has a pale body and dark spots.  Belly is pale.  Guesses:  Could be a hognose snake, a night snake, or a variety of brown snake.

Donne:  Very small snake.  Can subtly reside at the top of Snake’s ear when travelling (Guess:  Common Krait aka “Karait”– the small, but deadly brown snake from Rikki Tikki Tavi.)

Goethe:  Orange snake, white spots, round eyes.  Childish and friendly (My guess:  Leukistic boa or python)

Keats:  Depicted both with a pattern on his back and as an non-patterned snake.  Often used as a guide.  (Sheds often?)              (Guess:  Ball Python or other python based on uneven loops of the pattern drawn and the thickness of the tail tip.)

Oscar:  Shiny two-toned green snake with a dark back, lighter stomach.  Tip of his tail is dull grey.  Tongue is blue.  Oscar has a rough temperament and speaks like a young man.  (Guess:  Red-tailed green rat snake. It has both the blue tongue and sometimes has gray tails.)

Webster:  Zig-zagged, cross-banded pattern, 4-5 markings atop head, slit pupiled eye.  From Queimada Island (Snake Island, home of the Golden Lancet/Golden Lancehead Pit Viper.)  His poison can kill a human within 30 seconds.  (Guess:  Golden Lancet. It’s the only place they live.  Webster is just a strongly patterned one.)

Wilde:  Black-and-brown spotted python, largest of Snake’s snakes.  Widest part of his body measures between 4.72” (12cm) and 5.12”(13cm) and his head is relatively small in relation to his body.  (Guess:  Boa Constrictor based on loose loopy pattern.) Head small in relation to body only the size of a small fist. 

Wordsworth:  Dark brown snake with lighter brown and black crossbands.  Has straight belly bands.  Speaks like an old man and is quite knowledgeable.  (Guess:  Eastern Copperhead.  This snake is not that dark on the body, the markings are a strongly open diamond shape and the head is strongly colored.  However, there is a clear band over the nose and past the eye that isn’t present on the copperhead.  Tail is thick.  Could be another constrictor.) Unnamed:  Black Mamba killed by Patrick Phelps in Book of Murder.  It’s highly venomous, from Southern Africa. 

                     Victims die within an hour of being bitten.  Black mambas are the fastest land snakes in the world and                      excellent tree climbers.

[crikeygatormate]

I never understood why people like fish tanks sm but like after getting one I just be staring at it for an embarrassingly long time like who knew little shrimp could be so entertaining

But anyway

Just image Bakugou is coming home from a long ass day of work and he’s barely shuffled into the kitchen before getting absolutely mauled by your three dogs.

“Get down,” Bakugou said tiredly as he lightly pushed down the largest one as he pulled his dinner from the fridge.

As he ate in silence he’s greeted by the pair of elderly cats your fostering. They’re mangey looking cats, probably about thirteen years old and one of them is missing an eye. Bakugou begrudgingly gave them both a piece of chicken before giving them a pat on the head and wiping his hand on his suit.

In the time that he’s been eating he noticed that you haven’t come out to greet him. Which was weird…

“Baby?” Bakugou called out as he set down his bowl in the sink and straightened up, groaning slightly at his sore muscles. He furrowed his brows at your silence, he was growing a little concerned.

As he walked through the living room past your terrarium, he suppressed a small shiver at the sight of your ball python. “Stop starin’ at me,” he grumbled as the snake flicked his tongue at him.

Then we he got to the bedroom he immediately understood why you were so quiet. “The fuck is this?”

You turned your head with a small smile, “an aquarium!”

Bakugou pinched the bridge if his nose, “didn’t we agree no more pets?” He said gently.

You shrugged as you held up a bag filled with aquatic plants, “but just look at these! Once the tank cycles we can add so many fish, you can even name one this time.”

Bakugou snorted and rolled his eyes, “how thoughtful of you.”

You frowned, “c’mon Katsuki, it’s gonna be so nice to look at when it’s done.”

Bakugou folded his arms over his chest, clearly unconvinced as he continued to watch you mess around with the tank. Honestly at this point he shouldn’t have been surprised that you’ve brought home another animal related project.

In the time he’s been dating you you’ve had at least a consistent six pets in the house, either permanent or fostering. At least a fish tank was more tame, he didn’t think he could put up with another reptile.

———

It wasn’t until a few weeks later when you had finished your tank and added the fish that he truly appreciated it though.

It was night and you were already asleep, and he had you tucked under his arm like always. He was exhausted, but despite how tired he was he couldn’t fall asleep. Every time he shut his eyes all he could see were flashes of past fights, you getting hurt, his friends getting hurt. It was awful. It made his chest tight and his jaw clench with fierce anxiety.

So instead he focused on you, running the pads of his fingers down your back, admiring the way the blue light from the tank illuminated your skin. You muttered something in your sleep and flipped over in his embrace, which made him smile. It seemed you were talking about your fish tank.

Then he looked up at the tank you’ve been babying for the past few weeks and it was then he understood why you liked it some much.

There was something really calming about watching the little world you created through the glass. The plants swayed gently with the current from the pump, and the small school of tetras that you named after his friends darted through the leaves.

He even spotted the assassin snail (you let him name that one explosion murder king) crawl up the side of the tank.

So he laid there for a while listening to your soft breaths as he continued to watch the tank, and after a while he finally fell asleep.

[survivingthejungle]

everybody wants to rule the world (ii)

(oh, finally it’s here bitch! u want some sadness?)

The next morning came and went smoothly, Genevieve continuing her typical routine of breakfast, walking Bambi and Tex, and then going to the gym to work out a bit and to keep her volleyball skills up to par. When she finally returned home it was already late afternoon, so she showered and made herself some lunch. Her aunts were off at their magic academy, and Ambrose and Sabrina were still out hunting for Herod's crown,  so Genevieve had the large Spellman house all to herself. After finishing her lunch and cleaning the dishes, she went to curl up on a couch in the family room to watch some TV before night fell and her family came home. About an hour into watching reruns of The Mary Tyler Moore Show, Ambrose burst through the front door in a hurry. "You being chased?" she called. 

"No time to talk, cousin," he yelled back down, rushing down the stairs to the basement, "I've got something very important to study!"

:Have fun," she responded, voice softened. She pointed her attention to Tex, who was seated at the end of the couch where she was relaxing. "Y'ever wish you were a witch, Tex?" Genevieve said to him. "'Cause I'd love to know what's going on right now."

A few minutes later, Sabrina came in, seemingly worn out from trying to keep up with Ambrose. "Hey," she said, "You wanna come with us to the carnival? We're leaving in a few minutes."

Geneveive's mouth opened but nothing came out; she wasn't sure what to say in the moment. "Ah-" she started, nervous. "About that… I think I'm going on a date with your friend."

Sabrina's brows furrowed and she smiled a little, confused. "My… friend? Which friend?"

Genevieve struggled again to find the perfect answer. "Mmh.. Uh.. Y- You know the one," she responded, vaguely. 

"Wh- Caliban?!" she yelled in awe, eyes widened once she realized to whom her cousin was referring. "The one who's trying to take my throne?!"

"Don't yell at me like that!" she defended herself, "He kept pestering me and bothering me and I wanted him to go away so I said yes!" Genevieve shouted back. 

"Why the Heaven was he so intent on it?"

"Beans, if I knew, I'd make it stop!" Sabrina sighed in defeat, setting down her purse and kicking off her shoes before joining her cousin on the couch. 

"Well, maybe it won't be the worst thing in the world. I mean, me and Nick and everyone else are gonna be there, so at least you won't be alone. Plus, I know he won't be looking for the crown if he's with you."

"I guess," Genevieve conceded, shrugging. "I just wanted him to get off my case. It's one date, okay? Just the one. I'm sure I can scare him off by the end of the night."

"Aw," Sabrina laughed, "Don't say that! You're a catch, ‘Vieve. Of course he wants to go on a date." "Are you encouraging this?" They both giggled. "Nah, it'll be fine. It's no big deal."

— 

Sabrina was already dressed and prepared to go out, so she waited in Genevieve's room while she changed into something other than her pajama pants and a large sweatshirt. "I can't believe you're going on a date with Caliban," Sabrina repeated, exasperated. 

"Ew, gross, don't say it like that," Genevieve called from the bathroom where she was changing and deciding whether or not she would wear any makeup. "You make it sound like a big thing."

"Sorry." Genevieve stepped out of the bathroom, with just a layer or two of mascara, some concealer, and a bit of blush on her cheeks and nose. She had also changed into a white dress with small navy polka dots and a washed out jean jacket. "So did he say if he would pick you up?"

"Um, you know what? I have actually no idea," she admitted, sitting down on the edge of her bed and putting on a pair of socks. "I guess we're meeting there. I don't know."

"Okay. Well, Nick and I are gonna meet up with everyone soon, if you want to come with."

"Oh, I'll be fine. But thanks, Beans. I'm gonna let Bambi out for a few minutes and feed everyone," Genevieve decided. 

"Alright," Sabrina said, getting up and leaving her cousin's room. "Well, we'll keep an eye out for you." "Thanks. See ya soon."

— 

Thankfully, it was not one of the nights she needed to feed Rhiannon, because Genevieve was not particularly in the mood to have to throw a live mouse into the ball python's tank. For Tucker, she went to the kitchen and grabbed a handful of blackberries, romaine lettuce, and snap peas, threw them on an old plastic plate and set it in his tank for him to munch on as he saw fit. She changed Pico's water and put a few chopped up grapes and strawberries in a small dish in his cage. She called for Bambi to follow her downstairs and let the dog outside while she put food in her bowl and got her fresh water. When Bambi barked at the door to be let in, Genevieve was startled to find Caliban standing there as well. "Oh. Hi, Caliban."

"You look a little surprised to see me," he observed. 

"Well, you did show up sort of unannounced," she told him, letting Bambi inside and allowing him in, as well. "I thought you'd just find me at the carnival."

"Sweetheart, I may be a demon," he smirked, "But I'm not completely without my manners. It would be disrespectful of me if I didn't escort you."

"Oh, respect?" she wondered, setting Bambi's bowls down on the floor and going to wash her hands. "I didn't know that was something you were worried about." There was a hint of mock doubt in her tone. He smiled a bit more genuinely at this. 

"There are a great many things you don't know about me, Genevieve."

"Well, then that makes two of us." Once she had slipped on a pair of shoes and made sure that she had a handful of cash in her pocket, she turned to face him directly and actually give him her attention. "We're stopping to get coffee first, because I'm about to fall asleep."

"Whatever the lady desires," he agreed. They both left the Spellman house, Genevieve yelling a goodbye to her cousin before shutting the door behind them. 

— 

"Can demons have coffee?" she asked as they stepped inside the small cafe.

"We can have anything we wish," he told her, "But I can't say I've ever tried the drink before."

"That's tragic. Do you want some? I'll pay." 

"There's no need to spend your money on me. I'm made of clay, I'll be alright."

"Wow," she said in mock wonder. "Do you have any other personality traits?" He smirked (which seemed to be his default at this point), and Genevieve rolled her eyes. She turned and gave her order to the barista, handing over a few of the singles from her pocket and going to wait at the other end of the counter for her drink. When Caliban wasn't right behind her like she was expecting him to be, she turned back and saw him ordering as well. He pulled out a wad of cash from his back pocket and her jaw almost dropped as he turned and gave her a knowing wink. "You did not just,' she muttered, clenching her teeth and lowering her voice to more of a whisper, "make that money!"

"And what if I did?" he asked, enjoying seeing her get riled up.

"That's terrible!" she chastised. "That's like… cheating."

He gasped. "Have I done a bad thing?" She narrowed her eyes at him.

"You may not care about doing bad things, but I do."

"As you wish," he conceded. Once their drinks were ready, they headed out onto the street and in the direction of the carnival at the edge of town near the forest. 

— 

Once they made it to the entrance of the carnival, Genevieve was on high alert for any sign of her cousin or her friends. "So, Genevieve Sawyer," Caliban started, "How did a mortal like you come to end up living with the Spellmans?"

"Well that's kind of personal," she told him, refusing eye contact. "My dad and Sabrina's mom were siblings. They took me in when…"

"When what?" he asked, voice soft and genuine. 

"Um, my dad… died, and I would have been put into foster care. But Hilda and Zelda offered to become my guardians instead."

"Well what about your mother?" he asked. He had a feeling he may have been crossing a line, but he decided to ask anyway. 

"Let's not talk about it," Genevieve shot it down. 

"I apologize if I've upset you," he offered. He seemed like he meant it.

"It's fine. You didn't know. I just… don't like to talk about it," she explained. She quickly changed the subject. "How's the coffee? Are you a fan now?"

He chuckled, taking a sip. "I'll admit it's not bad," he said, looking down at her, "But I'm still partial to the blood of the damned."

Her eyes widened and she grimaced. "Ew!"

He laughed at her expression. "I'm only joking, darling," he reassured, still smiling. She scoffed and nudged him with her elbow. 

"Not funny, you punk.” She took another sip of her own drink before continuing. "You don't really— "

"Of course not!" he exclaimed. "Must you always think the worst of me?"

She smiled playfully. "Well you don't give me much of a choice," she teased. The sun was beginning to set and the lights of the carnival became more vibrant as time went on. In the crowd of people, she spotted Sabrina's white-blonde head walking beside Nick. "Oh, look!" she pointed out to Caliban. Speeding up to them, Genevieve poked her cousin in the back, startling her.

"Oh! Hey, Geneieve!" she greeted. "Caliban."

"Your highness," he replied, bowing. Genevieve noticed a growing tension between him and Nick, and before things got out of hand, she interrupted. 

"'Sup, Nick?"

"Hey, Genevieve. How's it going?"

"Pretty good, I guess. How ya feeling?" she asked him, silently praying she wasn't stirring the pot. 

"Better, actually. Thanks to Sabrina." They smiled at one another as he put his arm around her shoulder. 

Genevieve didn't notice, but Sabrina did. When Nick wrapped his arm around her and made a lovey-dovey expression, Caliban looked longingly down at Genevieve. 

"Where's everyone else?" the older cousin wondered. Sabrina looked around. "Uh, Harvey and Roz are walking around somewhere. Theo and Robin are on the ferris wheel."

"Who's Robin?"

"New boy. They really hit it off." "Aw," Genevieve gushed, "I'm so happy for Theo! Good for both of them." She finished the last few sips of her coffee. "Where are we headed?"

"Carousel?" Sabrina offered.

"Yeah, I'm down. You wanna go?" she asked Caliban.

"I'll go wherever you decide," he answered.

She let out a small scoff. "How very noble."

— 

Something was off at the end of the carousel ride and Genevieve had no idea what it was. Caliban's entire demeanor had changed and when the ride ended, She decided to give Sabrina and Nick some space while she tried to figure out what Caliban was up to. She gently grabbed her cousin's arm. "Hey, we'll meet up with you guys in a minute," she muttered. Sabrina nodded in understanding. Once they were on their own again, she turned to Caliban. "Okay. What's up?" she interrogated. He was glancing around all over the carnival grounds, barely looking at her. She snapped her fingers in his face, gaining his attention. "Hello? What is going on?"

"Something's not right," he responded cryptically. "Someone's here who shouldn't be here."

"What does that mean?"

"It means it's not safe for a mortal to be here for much longer. You should go home."

She glared up at him, eyes narrowing. "Oh, you think you can just boss me around, now? What's your deal, dude?" Instead of giving a snide remark, he grabbed her face in both hands and looked her dead in the eyes. 

"Genevieve. I'm not joking. Or lying. You really need to leave."

"No!" she shouted. "You don't get to tell me what to do, you spoiled little jerk! I came to this stupid carnival to have fun with my friends. You're not ruining this for me." She sighed out an angry breath and shook her face out of his hands, stepping back. "What is your issue? First you pester me until I agree to give you the time of day, and then all of a sudden you want me gone?"

"I don't want you gone. I want you safe, believe it or not. You're upset with me now but you'll understand later. There's really no time to explain, sweetheart." He tried to grab her hand, his face sincerely apologetic, but she pulled away with a disgusted look on her face. 

"No. Don't touch me." She paused as if to say something else, but decided against it; turning away from him abruptly and storming off into the crowd. 

 "Genevieve," he called. "Genevieve!" But rather than turn around, she flipped him off and kept walking. 

— 

Genevieve had gotten halfway home before Herod's zombie showed up and attacked Nick and Sabrina. She was too far away to hear the yells from the carnival grounds, instead caught up in her own thoughts and grievances. Stupid piece of shit, she thought. I can't believe I let myself get played like that. Who does he think he is? 'Go home, Genevieve'-- Man, fuck off!

Meanwhile, her cousin and her cousin's boyfriend were fighting for their lives from an undead evil ancient king. They tag-teamed spelling him and beating him up with whatever they could get their hands on, but they were fighting a losing battle. Sabrina was thrown to the ground, and suddenly looked up to see the boy her cousin was currently pissed off at. "Caliban! Help me!"

"Beautiful as you are, I am tempted," he sneered. "No. I think not." His face dropped. 

"What about Genevieve?" Sabrina yelled at him.

"I've taken care of her. This crown is my priority." And without another word, he transported himself back to Hell.

— 

After Nick went back to the Academy, Sabrina strolled right into Pandemonium and up to the bastard who had played her cousin and cheated in their quest. He was smug, wearing the crown and strutting like he actually ruled the place. "What does my lady think?" he asked. "It's just temporary until I win the infernal crown, of course." Before he could get another word in, Sabrina smacked him. 

"We could have died!" she shouted. "Why didn't you help us?"

"Help you?" he repeated. "This is a competition. I was watching you. Closely. When I didn't have my eyes on that cousin of yours— "

"If you were watching me, did you know King Herod was coming for his crown?" Sabrina asked, ignoring his backhanded comment about Genevieve. 

"My lady, everyone knows King Herod is a guardian. I assumed you would kill him. … Or he would kill you." He swiped some droplets of blood from her tip. "Or perhaps, you would kill each other. A true monarch knows strategy." He then spoke up loud enough for the whole throne room to hear. "Now, you didn't answer my question! The crown suits me, don't you agree?" Sabrina right-hooked him so hard that the crown came flying off of his head. 

"The first round's yours. Enjoy it. It's the last one you'll win." He was desperately trying not to lose his pride. "And I swear, I'll slice your throat ear to ear before I let you have my throne." She seemed as if she was done, but decided to add one more thing. "And if you ever come near Genevieve again, I won't have to. Because she will."

— 

After Sabrina had showered the blood and grime off of herself, she threw on her p.j.'s and headed to her cousin's room. Genevieve was laying on her pillow pile in a corner of her room, cuddled up with a blanket and Tex laying on her chest. Bambi was snuggled up against her side. She had traded in her dress and jacket for sweatpants and an old t-shirt; she rubbed her makeup off half-heartedly and tied up her hair on him of her head. "Hey, Vieve," Sabrina greeted softly, slowly entering her room. "Hi," she muttered. "Your stupid friend is a piece of shit."

"He's not my friend. And I know he is. He cheated on the challenge tonight. Left me and Nick pretty much for dead just to get that stupid crown."

"I wanna punch him."

"Don't worry. I did. Twice," she winked, sitting on the edge of the bed. 

"Let me get a few hits in next time."

"They're all yours." Sabrina then knelt to the ground and laid down on her cousin's free side, putting her chin on Genevieve's shoulder. "You gonna be okay?"

"I'm so mad at myself. I can't believe I let some piece-of-trash, lying, cheating, dirtbag play me." Sabrina said nothing, just rubbing her cousin's arm in an act of comfort. "If I ever see him again I'll hurt him."

"I know," Sabrina muttered. "You have every right to."

— 

While the rest of the Spellman household was preparing for the Hare Moon, Genevieve spent the day curled up in bed, cuddling with her cat and dog and reading books. At some point in the late, late afternoon, a familiar woosh of heat interrupted her lazy day. "How dare you," she began, setting her book down and picking up Tex, holding him close to her chest. "How fucking dare you show up to my house like you're wanted here." She stood up and walked closer to him, while he backed away from her rage-filled frame. "You complete jackass. You are such a piece of shit. You almost get my cousin killed? And you don't do a damn thing to stop it? You- what, you try to get on my good side, and seem so inconspicuous, just so you can spy on my family and cheat on that stupid fucking contest? And then you show up in my room the next day like this?!" She was shouting now. "Don't you even think of saying a God-damned word to me, Caliban! You skeevy little dirtbag!" She set Tex down on her bed so that her hands were free. "Get out of my room, get out of my house, get out of my life!" Genevieve threw her fists at him, hitting anywhere a punch would land. His chest, his arms, his face; she was going blind with rage. She continued moving toward him in her assault until he was backed up against her wall. The punches kept coming. "Genevieve, stop!" He shouted, trying to push her off of him. "Let me apologize— "

"NO!" she screamed. "Don't order me what to do! You don't get to apologize to me! This is beyond apologies! I don't give a fuck what you say to me, nothing will ever, ever cover this!"

"I know!" He screamed back. Her punches slowly stopped. "I know. Nothing I say will fix anything I've done."

"Then why are you here?!"

"No apology will ever be fit for you, but please, please let me say my piece anyway." She said nothing, so he continued. "I am, truly, genuinely sorry for betraying your trust. And I am sorry I left your cousin defenseless last night. There is no explanation I could give that you would see fit to accept. I will spare you the details of the reasons behind my actions. But please, Genevieve, please know that I never wished to cause you any pain. From the moment I met you, I never wanted to harm you. Knowing I have done so is the heaviest burden I will ever carry."

"Are you done waxing poetic now?" she asked, arms crossed, face void of emotion. He nodded slightly. "Good. Get out of my house."

"Gen— " She cut him off. "You have done enough, Caliban! Leave!" He looked at her longingly, with the saddest eyes she had ever seen, and conceded. 

"As you wish." He threw his arms up and was once again enveloped in a spiral of hellfire. When it dissipated, he was gone. In his place was a large, bright yellow sunflower. She picked it up apprehensively. Genevieve wanted desperately to throw it in the trash, or to stomp on it, or to shred it with a pair of scissors; in the end, she placed it gently on her desk and went back to bed, throwing the covers over her head and silently crying.

[multi-fandom-inserts]

The Library (Part One)

Nick Scratch x Reader!

ENJOY, no warnings except maybe a case of blue balls at the end?

Friday, 4.35pm

The grand library at the Academy of Unseen Arts was marvellous, grand marble flooring with rows upon rows of large wooden bookcases, stacked high with books ranging from spells to transfiguration to potions to even a small fiction section for entertainment, not to mention the Restricted Section which is kept under lock and key with more protective and life-threatening enchantments than Hell itself. Marble pillars line the room creating a pathway and above it all was a large black crystal chandelier, with metal stand throughout the room lined with candles giving the room a oddly warm and inviting glow.

For once the library was empty, no surprise really, Friday afternoons mark the beginning of the weekend for the academy, therefore the corridors that were once buzzing with life and laughter of students were now quieter than the grave, only a few late leavers lined the corridors, their suitcases, trunks and familiars blocking the way, their quiet laughter and talking echoed eerily throughout the hallways.

You on the other-hand were not packing to leave for the weekend, the academy had become your permanent home, so every Friday it has become routine to hide away from it all in the library, curled up on one of the plush red velvet arm chairs placed in front of the grand fire, your shoeless feet tucked beneath you keeping them warm. Your hands held a old, tattered transfiguration book as your familiar, Echo – a jet black Ball Python – tucked and wrapped herself in your hair.

Taking a deep breath, you place the book down on the coffee table and focus all your attention on the empty wine glass placed in front of you. Resting your bare feet firmly on the floor as you lean forwards, hoovering your hands just above the object of your spell, “Per potentiam autem hora bus, exaudi me,” you whisper – by the power of the witching hour, hear me – a smirk grew on your lips as you felt the light of the moon engulf you through the Gothic window causing goosebumps to form on the surface of your skin.

Closing your eyes, you push and hold all your power in your hands, “lepus saliens vitrum in tenuem!” you command forcefully – delicate glass into leaping rabbit – for a few moments all was silent in the library and you didn't want to open your eyes in fear of the spell not working.

Your worst fears were realised when a chirp sounded throughout the library, opening your eyes to see a large raven perched on the table, it's large talons already making marks in the wood as it's beady yellow eyes starting at you as rub your temples, taking the book carefully from beside the creature successfully dodging the bird attempts to poke you with his beak.

“How do I turn you back into glass?” you ask yourself, violently flicking through the pages whilst attempting to keep half an eye on the raven. When suddenly the bird lets out a loud and threatening noise before flapping it's large wings and flying from the table, causing you to jump throwing the book to the floor as you stood up.

The free bird continued to mock you for several minutes as you tried to coach it down from it's hiding spots on the top of the bookshelves, every time you got close to  being within spell distance the bird swooped down to scratch you before finally seeking prime safety in the chandelier.

“Seriously?!” you groan in frustration, wiping the sweat that had gathered on your forehead on your sleeve, all the running around had made you warm and the heat from the fire wasn't helping, discarding your jumper on the armchair you moved back to the side of the chandelier.

“I can summon demons, make trips to hell and control mortals yet I cannot catch a fucking bird!?” you growl, clenching your fists causing the room too shake slightly in response to your anger.

Suddenly a low chuckle echoes from behind you, “And you can't even turn it into the right animal,” a male voice teases, turning round you see Nick Scratch slowly strutting his way further into the library, his signature smirk on his lips and an even more seductive look in his eyes, “The Dark Lord will be disappointed in you, Y/N.” he said, getting closer and closer, very soon he was behind you, his cool warm breath fanning over your now exposed shoulder.

“Fuck off Nick.” you spat, twirling around to face him, your noses almost touching.

Nick just laughed, “That's not what you were saying the last time, if I remember right it was, 'Fuck me, Nick'.”

A deep blush rose to your cheeks as he teased you, a small spark of anger lit in your chest as you waved your hand away from you forwards him, sending the young Warlock flying backwards. His body hit the marble floor a few meters backwards.

“No Nicolas, I never got the chance remember,” you said, turning your back to him and setting your sights back on the escaped Raven, Father Blackwood would have your head if he knew you set an animal free in the Academy that wasn't a familiar, “You got a telepathic call from the Weird Sisters and decided I wasn't as much fun.”

Behind you, Nick rolled his eyes as he collected himself from the floor, a small hit of annoyance filled him due to the throwing backwards, suddenly your body was thrown forwards across the library, the front of your body collided with one of the bookshelves making you groan in pain.

“How jealous you are, pet.” Nick voice suddenly whispered in your ear, one of his large hands grips your waist as the other rests on the shelf by your head, his body is pushed against you keeping your trapped in the space. Goosebumps appear over your body as Nicks gentle breaths echo in your ear and engulf your skin.

A hiss breaks the silence as Echo emerged, not being best pleased Nick had launched you across the room with her still settled in your hair, Nick lets out a yell of surprise as Echo strikes at him, causing him to stumble backwards giving you the best opportunity to use your powers, forcing Nick to kneel in front of you.

“Oh Nicky, be careful.” you whisper with a smirk, leaning down to hover your lips over his, “She bites.”

Echo wrapped round your hand as she continues to hiss at Nick, clearly enjoying her theatrical role then escaped into the bookshelves as Nick snatched the back of your knees and pushed you backwards, being sure to protect the back of your head from the marble flooring, trapping you beneath him with your arms pinned to the cold marble floor with him happily sitting between your legs.

He smirks seductively with an evil look in his eyes as he watched you struggle for a moment before dipping his head into the crook of your neck, just below your ear.

“She's not the only one, sweetheart.” he whispers.

                                                     _______

Want Part 2? Let me know!

[atiny-orbit1219]

Cheap Beer and Ramen

*Pairing: Lee Taeyong x Reader 

*Genre: Straight cheesy fluff

*Plot idea: Pet store owner Taeyong loved every animal he had in his store, from the cats all the way to the bearded dragon but for some reason, he could never handle the snakes; the way they slithered sent shivers down his spine every time. So he hired a part-timer and she was in charge of the reptiles and making sure Taeyong didn’t take another cat home. 

*Word count: 3,200

*Warnings: Small amount of cussing, drinking, kissing, really really cheesy

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　 

The sound of your phone blaring from its spot on your bedside table is what woke you up. You weren’t happy to say the least as the wonderful dream you were having started to slip away into an untapped part of your brain. You didn’t even have time to write it down before you forgot what happened completely. You groan into your pillow as your hand reaches out blindly, sliding all across the table until it found its target. Your fingers grasped the device as you brought it closer, lifting your head slightly, the blinding light from your screen causing you to squint and lower your brightness. But for your tired eyes it still burned straight through your corneas. You saw the time in the top center and was confused at first, you didn’t have to be awake for another hour… why was your alarm going off now? You sat up slowly, pushing your messy hair out of your face and finally you notice his name. You sighed as you hit the green answer button right before he was sent to voicemail. “This better be good Taeyong.” You deadpanned, not expecting to hear from your boss so early in the morning. 

“Good morning to you too Y/N” He just said back, sounds of people talking flowed through the speakers from his side. You pulled your pillow onto your lap holding it close as you spoke. “Why are people there? We Don’t open until eleven.” She question, slowly waking up as the call continued. “Haha... About that. I must have misheard the lady on the call last week, apparently, the new snakes aren’t coming in tomorrow but today.” Even though he couldn’t see you, he could tell you rolled your eyes as he explained his reasoning for this wake-up call. “Taeyong… You own a pet store but you can’t even handle a few snakes, you clearly didn’t think this through,” you said slightly annoyed. you knew the entire reason you were hired was because of your love of reptiles but at that moment you were too tired to remember that. “I know… I know, but the way they just slither and- ughhh.” you could hear his shivers over the phone just from thinking about it. “You’re such a Pussy Lee Taeyong.” you said, then after a small pause you continued, “I’ll be there in ten, you can at least unload them into the store right?” You asked in a teasing tone. “Yes! I can do that! You’re the best Y/N! I’ll buy you anything you want from next door, you deserve the most expensive ramen.” You couldn’t help but snort at his response before muttering a quiet goodbye and hanging up to go get ready. 

~

“Y/N is here to save the day!” you call as you walk into the store an hour earlier than you were scheduled. The bell that hung above the door rung, signaling your entrance if the obnoxious yelling didn’t do the trick. Taeyong was just finishing setting the boxes of baby snakes on the counter, his head turning at the sound of your voice, a wide smile spreading across his face. “My own personal superhero.” He teased stepping away from the reptiles as if he was avoiding the plague. You have worked for Taeyong for exactly one year and four months. You had just moved to the city for university, leaving everything you had known behind to follow your dreams of becoming a zoo veterinarian. Something about being able to work with animals from all over the world excited you more than words could explain. Of course, your parents helped pay your way into college along with the help of scholarships but you still needed to eat and pay rent so you went job hunting. Getting a job as a college student in the city was a lot harder than they made it in the movies, most of the places you applied gave you unrealistic hours that would leave you with no time to study. Just as you started to lose hope and went to the convenience store close to your apartment to drown yourself in cheap beer and ramen did you see the ‘Now Hiring’ sign on the building right next door. In one last desperate attempt, you entered the newly built pet store and your eyes immediately landed on the silver-haired man behind the counter. Everything from his small smile as you walked in, to his enthusiastic nod when you asked about applying, even to the way he shyly scratched the back of his neck when he asked you if you liked snakes��� everything pulled you in. And the flexible hours was a bonus. 

It took a while for Taeyong to get close to you. He was shy and socially awkward but you found the way he blushed every time he spoke to you absolutely adorable. As time went on though you two slowly became more than just employer and employee, you two became friends. You started going to the convenience store next door together after closing the shop, talking for hours over the cheap beer and ramen you went to buy the day you met him. Taeyong was a total mom friend, he always nagged you for staying up to study and forgetting to eat; he would congratulate you on passing your exams and even splurge on the expensive beer and ramen and refused to go halfsies like you normally do on special occasions. You remembered the night you got your biology exam scores back and had almost a perfect score, the first person you wanted to tell was him. Why? You didn’t really know, but you ended up practically running to the store, your phone clutched in your hands that showed your scores. You threw the glass doors open, the bell ringing violently, Taeyong looking away from a customer to you with a shocked expression.  “Y/N! Are you okay? What’s wrong?” He asked, worry dripping from his voice as he stepped away from the old woman holding a cat she was planning on adopting. “A ninety-eight.” You said, your breathing labored, barely able to get those words out as you place your hands on your knees, attempting to stop gasping for air, damn you were out of shape. “What? A ninety-eight? What do you mean?” He asked, tilting his head in the dangerously cute way he does. “Excuse me Miss I am only seventy-four.” The old woman chirped in, your eyes going wide as you wave your hands in disagreement. Finally, enough air entered her lungs, “Not you Ma’am, I apologize. A ninety-eight percent. I got a ninety-eight on my bio exam.” She got out. Taeyong smiled at this, a small laugh leaving his lips as he steps completely away from the lady and jogged across the store over to you. “I can’t say I’m surprised.” he teased, ruffling your already messy hair as he smiled down at you, “But that’s amazing… I’m a proud boss. Drinks on me after close?” He said, raising his eyebrow at his proposition. You nodded quickly, smiling back.

“Lady’s choice.” Taeyong’s voice rung from behind you as you scanned the ramen isle, a finger on your chin as you pretended to contemplate your options before reaching for your favorite, which just happened to be one of the cheapest, as a college student you learned not to have expensive taste. “Predictable Y/N.” Taeyong said as you turned to face him, holding out the ramen in front of you with a wide smile. He had on a zip-up hoodie and a simple pair of jeans, but he was Lee Taeyong Afterall, everything looked good on him. His hands were in his pockets as he followed you around the convenience store, watching you with a small smile. “C’mon Y/NNN you got a ninety-eight on your exams, get something more expensive, I’m paying.” He whined and you just let out a laugh, “Oh don’t worry Taeyong, I’m buying kimchi too! I deserve to be spoiled.” You tease, setting the ramen, kimchi and a six-pack of the more expensive alcohol on checkout counter so it could be scanned. You don’t remember much more of that night, you drank a little too much you guessed. You woke up the next morning in your bed, Taeyong’s hoodie wrapped around you. He left you a note on your bedside table with a bottle of aspirin on top. ~How’s that headache you dummy? Why did you drink so much? I had to carry you home. Anyway, good job on your exam, I’ll see you when your shift starts. - Taeyong (P.S You’re a lot heavier than you look)~

~

You were brought back from your trip down memory lane, Taeyong waving his hand in front of your face. “You’re my snake charmer Y/N, you can’t zone out on me now.” you could hear the smile in his voice without even having to look up at him. “Huh? Oh yeah! Right! Snakes.” You muttered, shaking the thought of your boss from your head. you walked across the store to the counter where the three boxes of snakes sat. One by one you prepared their habitats and placed them in. Suddenly an idea popped in your head, a little payback for waking you up an hour early. you finished the last snake’s habitat, a smirk on your face the entire time. Thankfully Taeyong was busy doing inventory in the back. You placed the snake in its glass cage, the creature immediately slithering under the fake rock for shelter with perfect timing as Taeyong walked through the doorway the led to the back of the store. “How’s it going?” he asked curiously, leaning over the counter with his elbows resting on the surface.  “Oh Redtail Boa and Ball Python are done all that’s left is the hog….nose oh no.” Your report to him was interrupted. Taeyong’s shoulders tensed slightly as his eyes met your worried ones. “What do you mean oh no?” he asked, watching as you lifted the box the Hognose was shipped in. Turning it sideways for him to see. “I think it escaped,” you said, slightly above a whisper. “Oh no indeed,” Taeyong said, gulping nervously as his wide eyes scanned the tiled floor. You had to use all your willpower not to burst out laughing right then and there. You bit your bottom lip to keep it in as you pretended to look for the snake with him. He was obviously on his guard not wanting to scream like a little girl if the snake did end up moving past him… how embarrassing would that be? You’d never let him live it down. 

You two split up, thankfully the store wasn’t opened yet. You were in the cat aisle, hidden by shelves of cat toys from your boss’s eyes. You quickly searched for what you were looking for, you unloaded boxes of them the other day so it didn’t take you long. A snake toy on a rope for the everyday rambunctious cat. Your smirk only grew as you opened the toy as quietly as you could before walking over to the unexpected Taeyong. “Any luck?” you asked innocently and he nodded his head no, but you doubted he was actually looking, too afraid to actually find the reptile. You let loose of the string cautiously, letting the snake piece fall to the ground. You walked around him, acting as if you were checking the dog toy bins as you slowly pulled the stuffed snake over the shoes of the store owner.

You wished you recorded the scream that left Taeyong’s lips as he tried to get away, causing him to stumble backward and fall on top of you. That’s when you lost it. You started laughing louder than you ever have around him, tears collecting in your eyes as you hold up the fake snake for him to see with a sheepish smile. “Is this where I say ‘It’s just a prank bro’?” you asked curiously, looking up at him with a raised eyebrow. You didn’t even register the position you two were in until a couple of seconds later, a soft pink blush growing on your cheeks to match his already flustered expression. “A… A prank?” he asked more himself than anything and you nodded slowly, letting out a shy laugh. “As revenge… for waking me up early.” She said quietly, butterflies erupting in her stomach, did she go too far? What if he fires her? All of those thoughts were cleared when Taeyong let out a small chuckle, followed by another, and finally, he was laughing. “You truly are horrible.” he teased, rolling off of you holding out his hand to help you up to your feet. You took it cautiously, he pulls you up, but instead of letting go of your hand his grip tightens as he pulls your closer, your chests practically pressed together as he looks down at you. “Since you clearly don’t care whether I’m embarrassed or not I should stop caring as well.” He says vaguely, your eyes widened as you looked up at him, now it was your turn to gulp. “Remember the night we went to the convenience store after your bio exam?” He asked randomly and you nodded, did he someone read your mind and figure out what you were thinking about when you were zoned out? “Well you drank… a lot. And as I was carrying you to your apartment you said some amusing things.” He spoke slowly, bringing you more and more on edge. Oh no what did you say?? “Did I tell you that I accidentally flushed a live fish down the toilet because I swear I thought it was dead.” You panicked, not knowing what he knew and it drove you crazy. “No you told me- Wait huh? You did what?? Never mind we’ll talk about that later. You said you liked me… like, like like me.” He said, his confident demeanor fading for a moment as you close your eyes letting out a small whine. You did what?? How could you be so unprofessional? “I didn’t say anything because you were drunk and probably thought I was someone else.” He said honestly, scratching the back of his neck nervously as he looked down at you. You were quiet for a few minutes, trying to process what you just heard and decided the truth was better than lying. Finally, with your face as red as a tomato, you spoke up. Damn your drunken self.

“Of course I knew it was you… I… I do like you. I liked you since I first saw you that day, but your my boss so I just ignored it. It’s not like its something I can’t get over, just give me some time. I’m really sorry, I made you feel Awk-” before you even knew it your unnecessary ranting was cut off by a pair of lips on yours. His hands quickly followed, both of his palms resting on your face as he pulls you closer. Was this really happening? Were you dreaming again? Even if you were you weren’t about to let this one slip through your fingers. Your eyes fluttered shut as you leaned into the unexpected kiss, this moment played in your head so many times before but nothing beat the real thing. Your arms wrapped around him, your lips slowly moving with his. After a few more moments he pulled away but his hands remained in their place as he looked down at you with his adorable wide smile, his head tilting playfully as he muttered a quiet, “I like you too” before closing the gap between you two once more. 

If you could kiss Lee Taeyong forever you would. His lips tasted of the iced americano he drinks every morning and he smells just like the hoodie you ‘never got around’ to giving back. You smiled into the kiss, never wanting it to end and for a while it didn’t. You two were only torn out of love land by the ringing of the bell above the door. “You guys are open right?” a voice boomed from the entrance. Taeyong pulled away from you, stepping out from between your legs, somewhere in the middle of making out with your boss you ended sitting on the counter. Taeyong’s entire face was red as he nodded. “Yeah… Yeah we’re open.” He said, helping you down from the surface, holding your hand tightly as the customer looked around. You turned to Taeyong, looking up at him with a small smile. He was still out of it, your lipstick slightly smudged on his red lips. You leaned up slowly, using the pad of your thumb to wipe it off. If it was possible he got even redder, his eyes avoiding yours as he smiled shyly. “Beer and ramen after close?” you asked curiously, laughing softly as he shook his head. “I’m taking you to a real restaurant,” he said, more assuring himself more than anything. “And maybe a movie after?” He suggested, finally looking at you and not his shoes. “A dinner and a movie? Wow Lee Taeyong you really know how to spoil a girl, I didn’t even take an exam.” You teased, patting his shoulder playfully. “Well I shouldn’t need a reason to spoil my girlfriend. Wait you’re my girlfriend right.” He said, realizing his mistake too late. “Are you asking me out?” You ask, not able to help but notice how adorable he was being. He just nodded his head sheepishly, “I think so.” He muttered. “My only experience with relationships so far is animal crossing and I’m starting to notice it didn’t teach me much.” He muttered with a small pout. “Well my answer is yes, to the date and to being your girlfriend.” You said back with a happy smile and he matched your expression, his puppy-like eyes shining as he looked down at you. He bit his lip as he leaned in to kiss you again, forgetting the store full of customers. But before your lips could meet you were interrupted once more. “Excuse me, can I look at the Hognose snake?” You sighed, frowning softly as you stepped away. “Be right there!” You call out as you grab the keys to the enclosure. “Duty calls.” You said, playfully sending Taeyong a salute. You turn away to help out the customer but after a few steps you look back at Taeyong, “Also! Taeyong!” He was smiling to himself until he heard your voice, he raised his head, looking over at you with a curious glance. “Hm?” he asked. “Text me your Animal Crossing code.”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　 

AHHH this is my first scenario I’m posting! I’m really nervous! I hope you guys liked it! I worked really hard and tried my best to edit it but if there are some mistakes I’m really sorry! Thank you so much for reading! :) - Mel

[nostalgiavoid]

It's Basil Dazzle hours

[maddieprokop]

Week 8 - Industrial design

1. This might be a weird way to start, but my roommates and I were discussing our cluttered fridge, and how a lot of it is due to the french-door design. We can’t stand how it’s so small and deep instead of wide and shallow. The design makes it difficult to reach items in the far back, and hard to organize into drawers or shelves for individual members of the house. 

2. My mom once told me a story about using post-its in the Bible, and honestly to this day I’m just fascinated by the design of the post-it note. It was actually a mistake since the adhesive was too weak, but turned out to be an incredible tool for offices, not taking, bookmarking, etc. I use them in my apartment, in my cubicle, etc.

3. Tupperware. Are. You. Kidding. Brilliant!!! Even better: lunch boxes. Whoever decided it was a good idea to create special containers and bags to keep our food clean and insulated was an absolute genius. I use these items at least weekly when saving produce, leftovers, etc. They’re honestly quite life-changing designs and I couldn’t imagine trying to keep food fresh without them.

4. This is another weird one, but Q-tips are kind of incredible designs. I use them daily for a clay acne spot-treatment. The thought of putting a small, tight ball of cotton on the end of a stick to clean small spots (usually on the body) is amazing. It’s versatile, easy to use, etc.

5. Look, i’m a dancer. I’m constantly getting bruises, injuries, and scrapes all over my body. I go through bandaids like candy (sometimes as a preventative measure). The design of a bandaid is so innovative! Little adhesive strips with a sterile gauze pad that you can apply Neosporin to and improve the safety, health, and overall healing of the wound is such a thoughtful improvement to how we take care of ourselves. 

7. I have a pet snake, and there’s this one cage I’ve been eyeing for my python with an amazing design. The front of the cage opens like french doors, with a strip of glass holding the bedding in the bottom. This makes it so that you don’t have to remove the heat lamps or humidifier from the mesh top every time you want to clean the tank or take your lil reptile out. The cage locks at the front after you close it, so you don’t have to worry about the animal popping the doors open and escaping, either. If it weren’t almost $200 I’d buy one immediately.

8. I have awful eyesight, and I also never wear contacts. The intricate design of glasses and their frames is astounding. It’s something I totally take for granted. The way they shape to sit on the nose, the way they hook my ears, the way they bend at the corners to fit a case or even just take up less space. It’s an incredible idea, really, and has changed the lives of thousands upon thousands of people for decades.

9. I carry a bag or backpack basically everywhere. One in particular is my favorite - it’s a Patagonia bag. I use it for school, hiking, travel, etc. It’s design is perfect for basically all my needs. The front pocket has a vertical zipper, so if i need to slip something small in after packing my bag full it adds a little extra space. The mesh sides that often hold water or snacks are tight enough to hold small objects like my wallet and phone, but expand enough to hold a large Nalgene. The bag has a built in laptop case, as well as a small mesh pocket on the interior for pens. My favorite part, however, is the small zipper pocket on the inside that’s basically asking to be used for feminine products, makeup wipes, etc. It’s got a spot for everything!

10. My house is filled with quirky little things, but one of my favorites is all the candles scattered around every room. We actually don’t use lighters, but we have matches scattered around as well. The idea of a match, similarly to a Q-tip, is a genius idea. A small, flammable stick to control fire? A small box that lights the fire? Amazing.

[fizzpixie]

Yo, I’m new here. So, maybe modern AU(or not) for Mike with his gf who wants to get a snake or something, like not so your everyday normal pet. I swear this man deserves more love, he was amazing. Ty in advance 💕💕💕

Yes hello!! Thank you so much for the request :) also you are ABSOLUTELY RIGHT. Mike Zacharias needs more love than he gets. The man wasn’t humanity’s second strongest just to be overlooked

Mike Zacharias x Reader Modern AUTitle: Headboobs (it’s a snake thing. I couldn’t think of a clever title for the life of me) Word count: 883

“I’ll take an old fashioned, please,” Mike took a small sip of his water as he ordered his drink, “no ice.”

“Mhmm.” The woman sighed. The waitress was older, plumper, and gave off the impression that she had little patience. You were supposed to give her your order but you were scrolling through your phone absentmindedly looking up different pictures of exotic house pets. The lady stared at you for a second expecting you to look up eventually. When you did not, she responded with a negative tone, “Ma’am, do you want anything to drink?”

You glanced up at her, “No, water will be fine, thank you.” Mike gave you a sideways glance.

“Are you sure you don’t want anything to drink? I’m buying. You usually get drinks when we go out.” You shook your head with your eyes still attached to the screen.

“Yeah, I know. I’m just not feeling it tonight. Thank you though, babe.” With your response, the waitress promptly tucked the pen behind her ear, brushing back a few grey strands of hair, then left.

You both had just gotten off of work. It had been a gruelingly hot, long, and busy day of errands, tasks, new-job searching, and responsibilities right up the wazoo. As a reward you both took a trip to your favorite local bar. It was pretty worn with creaky floorboards, chipping paint that exposed earnest brick, and dying warm lights that desperately needed replacing. The whole bar had a dim glow, with lines of wall booths that rounded out for larger groups of people. You and Mike always sat in the same spot.You leaned your head on your hand as you blankly starred at your phone screen. Mike watched you for a brief moment to see if you’d say anything to him. It was peculiar of you to ignore him.

“Hey baby, is everything okay? You seem a little out of it. What are you looking up?” You turned your head on your hand like a ball on a swivel, just barely enough to make eye contact with him.

“Mike, can we get a pet snake?” You asked him bluntly. Mike’s eyebrows furrowed. He didn’t really react with much shock, but more distaste.

“...Why?”

“Well, I’ve been looking up cool pets to have and I feel like a snake really just, I don’t know, fits us, you know? We definitely aren’t cat people. Dogs are sooo high maintenance, and fish? The most boring pet on the planet,” You began your ramble. Mike leaned back in the booth and sighed, knowing it would be a while before you finished, “I mean all due respect to those pets and the people who prefer them, but I want something that when my friends hear about it they think ‘wow what the fuck, that’s actually kinda cool’. And there’s just SO MANY different kinds of snakes in the world, just look at---”

“Baby, hold on. Have you considered the, um, disadvantages, for lack of a better term, of having a pet snake? I mean can you just imagine the smell.” Mike stopped there, his large nose scrunching up in disgust at the idea. He shook his head.

“But Mike--” The waitress returned before you could rebuttal, gently setting down the small and wide glass of honey colored liquid on a coaster in front of Mike. “Are you two ready to order?”

“Can we have another minute, please?” Mike asked politely. The waitress left without a word, and Mike took a large gulp of his whiskey.

“But Mike,” you continued, “just look how many cute breeds of snakes there are,” you scooted over on the round booth until you were skin to skin with Mike. You offered your phone close to his face, browsing through the list together, “There are corn snakes, gopher snakes, rosy boas, california kingsnakes...” You trailed off. Although Mike wasn’t completely onboard with your idea, he still paid complete attention to you. It’s one of the many things you loved about him. You gasped.

“Mike, we could get a ball python. just look how cute they are. They have the cutest little headboobs--”

“(y/n), how badly do you want a snake?” He interrupted.

“I mean like, pretty bad.”

“Do you promise to take care of it?”

“Yes.” You looked at  him intently. He paused for a second, gazing down at his drink and swirling the remains of it in the glass. He looked up.

“Do you promise to keep this snake as clean as if Levi owned it?”

You let out a heavy sigh of annoyance.

“...Yes.” Mike let out a deep chuckled, taking another large gulp of his old fashioned before wiping the remains on his thick mustache with the back of his hand. You admired him as he did.

“Fine, we can get a snake. We’ll go into the pet store tomorrow to find ourselves the most burly, fat ball python we can find. Under one condition,” he took a beat for dramatic affect, “I get to name it.” You gave out the tiniest gasp of joy and hugged his large arm. 

“Okay, fine. What’re we gonna name it?” Mike leaned his head onto yours and freed his arm from your grip to wrap it around your back and scratch the base of your head. You both held each other for a minute.

“Stinky.”

[ineffablefool]

hc: snake crowley luvs aziraphale's tummy :>

This is a very good headcanon and I like it very much.  I absolutely believe that Crowley in any form at all adores Aziraphale’s tummy. 

Snake form doesn’t have lips to kiss it, and doesn’t have hands to hold or rub or gently squeeze it, and these are certainly downsides.  On the other hand, if Aziraphale can be prevailed upon to lie down on the sofa to read whatever book it is he’s got his nose in lately, instead of sitting at the desk or in his armchair, then that instantly creates the most wonderful basking spot in the world.  Crowley can curl up on Aziraphale’s soft warm belly, nestle his own head under a coil, and drift off to sleep.

Canon-size Aziraphale would probably make a lovely napping spot for a snek!Crowley up to, hmm, maybe smallish adult ball python size.  The rounder the Aziraphale, the bigger the snake that could comfortably rest on him.  (Feature, not a bug.  Round Aziraphale continues to be Best Aziraphale.)

Beautiful headcanon!  Thank you so much! <3

[ofdemetcrs]

✧･ﾟ(   demeter + ana de armas + cis female   ) 𝒎𝒂𝒎𝒎𝒂 𝒎𝒊𝒂 !!  have you seen (   julietta “juliet / jj” montesino  ) around ? (   she  ) has been in kaos for (   six years   ). the (   twenty six year old   ) is a/an (   gardener / owner of the local farmers marker   ) from (   new york, USA   ). people say they can be (   overbearing   ) but maybe that’s not too bad ‘cause they can also be (   nurturing   ). whenever i think of them, i can’t help but think of (   the smell of ozone after rainfall, the way the sunlight trickles between the trees, the feeling of dewy grass beneath bare feet   ).  ･ﾟ✧  (  penned by lou, 20, est, she/her  ).

pinterest !

holy hades ... me, finally doing my intro ??? how sexy is that man ....

ANYWAYS hello!! my name is louise, or lou, whichever u prefer. i’m twenty years old and i live in florida ( and yes, florida men are real. i saw one walking a raccoon on a leash a few months ago ) and i live and breathe all things greek mythology. it’s actually what i specialize in at school !!! it’s my favorite subject EVERRRRR.

the character i am playing is named julietta montesino, but she mainly goes by juliet or jay or jj. she’s twenty six years old, grew up in the upper east side of new york, and is the demeter skeleton !!! now i know what you’re thinking -- demeter, coming from a city ?? how does that make sense ??? honestly, it really doesnt !! but my whole idea was that she was a source of life in the midst of urbanization. cheesy, i know, but in my head it kinda worked, y’feel me ???

below are some bullet points about her childhood !! i’ll explain a bit more below them but for now ~

originally born in madrid, spain to two teen parents that simply weren’t ready to have a child. she was only in the system for a little less than a year before grace and dean montesino, older upper east side socialites ( think gossip girl ) brought the girl home.

they brought her back to their main home in east hampton, new york, and that is where she grew up.

she was given just about everything she could have ever asked for, and still she had yet to grow a spoiled bone in her body.

went to a private school in the upper east side and was universally liked by both students and teachers

by the age of 20, both grace and dean montesino had passed away of old age ( as they were both well into their 70s when they had initially taken her in ) and from that she inherited their fortune, alongside their vacation home that was on kaos.

she’s lived there for six years now, and since moving to the island, she has started up a cute little farmers market that runs during the week and for a few hours on the weekends. she sells fresh produce there and allows people to set up stands and vendor stalls and such.

so !!! she was adopted by an elderly couple that hadn’t been able to have children of their own. they truly wanted someone to be able to carry on their family name and their legacy, and so, they decided to adopt a child into their home, despite having been well into their late 60s and early 70s. juliet blossomed in their household, and despite everything that she inherited, she never once let it get to her head. she’s very humble, and very generous and nurturing and truly just the most Mom friend you could ever have.

but be warned. she has a temper. big demeter temper. very much “hey i’ll fucking stop shit from growing until my daughter is returned” level temper. i think i mention that again in her headcanon section, but it’s a very big part of her personality. she’s usually a pretty patient and kind person, but if you push and push and push and end up crossing that line, it’ll be hard to once again earn your spot in her life. she has a petty streak, and is often times very overbearing and overprotective and, well, smothering. but know that she always has the best intentions, even if sometimes the best intentions lead to the worst scenarios.

and now, my favorite part. headcanons.

she has 5 reptiles. a ball python named Ellie ( bc demeters sacred animal is a serpent hehe ), two leopard geckos - castor & pollux, a bearded dragon named eragon, and a panther chameleon named pascal !

she has vacation homes all over the world that she inherited from grace and dean. one in Monaco, one in Italy, one in Bali, and one in London.

went to collage and studied botany!!!

has such a green thumb

SHE ALSO HAS CHICKENS !!!!! their names are Dennis and Jerry and Brad and Kenny, and they provide eggs that she sells at her little farmers market that she runs on the island

her favorite color is midnight blue

she has a few tattoos but they’re small and easily hidden

she also has a septum piercing but keeps it flipped up most of the time

is an absolute mom friend

literally like always has snacks in her bag for the friends she knows that get hangry, always has tissues and a shoulder available to cry on, is more than willing to always step away from what she’s doing in order to be there for someone

but she’s also very overbearing with a lot of her friends and she doesn’t mean to be but ,,,, she can be a little smothering sometimes

and by sometimes I mean all the time

as in she’s the type to grab a tissue and start wiping someone’s nose for them like “ugh you look so sick here let me–” cue the invasion of personal space

but she does it out of love I swear

people just need to remind her of boundaries sometimes

she also has a wicked temper. very “I’ll stop the growth of everything until you return my daughter hades” level temper. it’s a mama’s temper. u kno…scary shit my dudes

loves to wear sundresses. she’s got so many different kinds

also a big Stan of leggings and big t-shirts. she definitely does not dress as if she has millions in the bank

she spends most of her time in her backyard bc its …. really pretty

if you would like to plot, please please please like this and i’ll be happy to come to you for any plots at all !!! thank you for reading this mess ERIKBJFND.

[ckcker]

Fear of Being There

The scientists put 3D glasses on a cuttlefish I read in an article, which I pair with the unread email from a friend of twelve years sitting one tab away, it appears to partly be a link to some video.  Feeling brave, I gather speed and push to the open email, purposefully ignoring all of the friend’s written message to zoom into the thumbnail of the video link they shared with me, which shows on one side of the thumbnail the shocked open mouth of a drag queen reacting to what I assume to be the most heinous transgression.  On the other side, a porcupine’s needles blasting from inside the mid-section of what appears to be a burmese python.  “How could this scenario have ever happened,” I ask myself as I don’t click, then scan the message written above the link:

“are you still in Kansas City??”

“I saw our high school English teacher walking in the park with a huge clump of moss stuck on her ass, I’ve been wanting to tell you that for a long time”

“Carrie is in NA now and I never see her.  also I adopted a dog”

“I’m sad I haven’t heard from you in a long time but I respect that you are just doing your thing, doing what you think is best for you, I love you.  enjoy this video of a drag queen screaming as she watches a porcupine impale a boa constrictor from the inside, it really made me laugh.  It’s not real”

“I would love to visit some time if you’d have me, I would love a long road trip, no pressure.”  

All I ever felt towards this person was worry; they were frequently to be found painfully descending the valley of some knotty, unlubed parabola.  Suicide often seemed on the table though it was never openly discussed, and what was discussed and unburdened between us never seemed to offer this person any relief.  But, I had not seen them in almost two years — still, I worried.  The gristle of sympathy.  Though now I could only think this person a bit stupid for not electing revenge as the only compatible solution.  They wallowed, tried to make inroads on the community around them, multi-tasker, all I did was worry, wonder if there was no chance for them.  On my better days I in fact stopped worrying because I resolved to believe that there was no chance for them.  On worse days I used to encourage them to online date, to take classes in some technical craft and escape minimum wage, incredibly coming from me who has yet to escape minimum wage, I bloated them with the most despicable general advice most likely invented by some phantom community and popularized by rotating day time talk show cryptids.  I surprised myself, the self-help industry deluge came spilling readily from my own mouth, I had no other advice to give. No effect.  I had no idea what could help someone, I did not respond to the e-mail, the scientists put 3D glasses on the cuttlefish to study if it uses stereoscopic vision to hunt, love that.

I responded to the email by going out for a long walk.  The walk proceeded as planned.  And then, in front of my eyes, the glistening juice of a misdirected frappé bronzed itself on the sunlit sidewalk.  It was June.  The person who bought then dropped it when attempting to give their companion a lil sip seemed one or two involuntary grunts away from the most amateur keening. We did not know each other and passing by I said nothing, in another hour and a half it would be sunset and that was the daily alarm for my worst and most stupid memories.  

Walking without a plan for a couple miles had led me to nothing specific: a popular cafe with drive-thru option, and the entrance to some truncated nature preserve with an ample parking lot, that I barely observed.  The humiliated and frappé-less melody of the forlorn customer began to spread over my shoulder, I averted my gaze from the nature preserve to treat it as if an attractive face I was intimidated by.  The only use for such a pathetic nod to wilderness in an urban area should be frequent alien abduction.  I knew better than to hope for that, I was not a good multi-tasker and did best with a single plan of attack.  And I already had a good plan, through subtle make-up I was looking older by the day (more like the month).  Pretty soon I would dye my hair grey.  I considered it was something the young people of the era liked to do and not for the reason of appearing aged.  In fact, more than anything this coalition of young and old visual signifiers increased the proof of their wrinkle-free faces and accentuated the domineering stylistic awareness inherent to youth in a, unnaturally long energy-sucking sigh, capitalist country.  I continued to high step forward like a finickety markhor in a fugly mood. Then, finding myself facing a hard-to-cross state highway I concluded, “oh, haha…ok, ah……that’s fine” and turned back towards the unused nature preserve parking lot, “I am almost too far away from home anyway.” I sat on a curb on the side farthest away from the road.  Looking across the street I saw that the customer and friend had started to kiss.  A simple solution to the loss of the drink.  His body turned awkwardly, I allowed myself to espy the torque of the male’s twisted cargo short pocket and felt very little.  I was turned away from the forest preserve entrance, at sunset I would have the executioner’s urge to once again survey and prepare my Doha nights.  

The arrival of sunset did not derail my day, but it always succeeded in sequestering my concentration so as to remember that, perhaps, time — I felt fully sick of telling myself about it.  I would prefer an obsession more traditionally fun, there was something about the way the eyebrows (with near-unibrow between) met the sharp lines at the top of the hyrax-like nose of Q.C.’s gradually-hot-to-me face.  I did not spend too much time thinking on him, I had little control over my eyes when in his presence. Worse, attempting to appeal to him would mean calling off the whole ambitious deterioration project, which was fully under my control/the best path forward.  I did not spend much time thinking of him when not in his presence and the collective shimmy of maple tree leaves in the breeze appealed to my left side as it carried on through the row of trees behind me.  A sparrow bopped around the swath of thick grass to my right and was not interesting at all.  I knew I felt this about the sparrow because I turned away from it quickly.  Finally I rotated towards the nature preserve entrance.  Was this an opportunity for me to snag a poesis?  I wanted to be home in my bed alone.  I also wanted to pretend to be thriving, inspired and free.  I wanted to try to see the world for the first time again.  

I got up and started towards the forest path with the confidence and direction of the professional managerial class.  To appeal to Q.C. would involve a gravitational u-turn, I would have to cut my hair better, with more style and intention, I would have to once again attempt to wear clothes that mostly fit my body, with careful monitoring of the area where jeans could be hit firm with zested glute.  I would have to invest much mental analysis into determining how to embody his desire.  I would have to keep emphatic track of my body language and reactionary expressions when near him so as to appear at least some low level of confident and laid back.  The antithesis of an angry errant stump, sucking vengeance through an ancient straw lined with obsidian spikes that clacked ominously against dentures I did not need.  I could not appear as “depressed for two.” Again, and worst of all, I would have to deselect the only source of direction for the future, my only true idea for satisfaction: the pursuit of my literally new age.  My only chance to repair my original timeline, by controlling my own time.  The old tension between wanting badly to be noticed and desired by others, and wanting that definition of freedom which is the refusal of all external attention, both approval and disapproval, in order to bring about the most contained stability — of course that tension ran me ragged once again.  That wan zit, it really seemed scripted at this point, I worked very hard to send it to the background.  My body clearly sensed this when it activated the release of an ear wax ball the shape and weight of a gently used cheek piercing stud.  The feeling associated with its premiere and gruesome launch was similar to just catching the last concrete appearance and subsequent fadeout of a semi-interesting-but-ultimately-unremarkable ghost of a 52 year old coffee mug.

I entered the forest, which began with a layer of joyless mulch.  The opening of the trail had dimensions so wide even the most sexually depraved plant had little chance to gak its repressed gropeage on a passing body.  I looked up as I walked, realizing the only animal likely to be spotted here, at this time of day, would be a bird.  Perhaps I might see a hawk or turkey vulture.  My survey resulted only in the very soft swaying of stacked green branches in front of striated and unremarkable clouds.  After watching this gentle tableaux for about thirty seconds, I wanted to more than violently shake an in-his-prime Ansel Adams, ask him what in the unconscionably labyrinthine fauxhawk I’d just seen. Would he have looked twice at this sky — my glance still directed upwards, I heard its scabrous chirp before I saw it, and then I saw it and immediately hated its presence: a sparrow had landed on an oak branch forty feet above my head and wanted to stay there.  I refused to let it observe me, turning to it I suddenly screamed in the timbre of an aggressive synth orchestra hit.  Continuing my walk after compartmentalizing its non-reaction, I wondered how I might make these natural surroundings matter to me.  They made no inherent argument that profoundly engorged the fun bags, perhaps because I was generally hooked into things by chaos, aggression and arguments, not by continuity or bucolia.  I could identify the simpler trees at least.  Of course pines and maples were easy, birch too.  I could usually confirm oak and cherry through guesswork. Otherwise I wandered through a forest in a skein of unskilled silence, in some beta-level abyss that was never fact-checked.  I didn’t know if having the names of mosses and wildflowers and mushrooms made it easier to appreciate the woods I forced myself into.  That I recognized and questioned such absences in myself was part proof that I felt a large component missing in the ongoing construction of respect for humble surroundings, and part recall of an inherent tendency to not care much about my own construction.  Against the spirit of the times, I spurned the concept of “personal development,” both in the thought directives I gave myself, and in the level of base inertia and hatred of fitness that exposed me as down-low sirenia.  “Personal development” — I did not trust the idea.  But moderate walking was acceptable to me and I continued to walk.  All trees beside me were suddenly activated by a quite beefy breeze from inside the forest.  Mood was present.  And along the audio effects of the wind in heavy leaf-covered branches, I thought I heard a rustling in a different tempo one-hundred feet further along the path.  A clench shuttered my body.  Once, I was reckless.  I entered badly lit hotel rooms brimming with silhouettes of animatronic movements.  I took pills handed to me, only asking after I swallowed them what they were (bottom tier migraine medication).  These days nearly any situation outside my apartment brought the inflamed trance of cautious thoughts.  Where I seemed to hear the sound I saw nothing but the continuation of breeze, and felt fully the irregular welts of my prey mentality.  

But I did not turn to exit.  The introduction of humidity into early summer pumped a new game in me anyway, the godforsaken thirst for some swell of “possibility.”  Against my addiction to titanium cowardice, flicked this vague and acidic proposition for adventure — that most rancid word of careerist travel influencers and successful stunt doubles.  Heavy hot air seemed to ferment a perennial wildness of feeling that, in other weather conditions, remained neatly veiled in self-suck.  I hated that I could still be easily infiltrated by this hormonal illusion of “anything can happen,” despite all my malevolent associations with the phrase.  It was important to make a list of all the things that are possible. “Anything can happen” was a sloppy mantra full of menace and probably popularized at some point in the late 20th century to sell mini frozen bagels with pizza toppings.  The list of all the things that are possible is the list of most crucial truth, it is a list that serves as sublime prep for someone who has been through the full consummation of “anything can happen,” when the thing that happened was a mind-shedding, unmentionable thing.  I knew the culture at large was heavily against such a distrust of possibility, as the concept suggested monumental change and always for the better — the potential of fortune.  I also knew it was against the cosmetic grafting of extra skin to make what I suddenly decided to refer to as ‘my boys’ look especially wrinkled and saggy.  I stood still and surveyed the way partial sunlight glazed on and off the nearest bush of presumably poisonous berries.  I briefly turned around and took in the forest entrance in the distance, and beyond it the suggestion of abridged midwestern meadow, now also washing in and out of sunlight with an unpunished laze, that I felt very unused to.  Nowhere else in my life, to which I paid attention, obeyed that kind of rhythm.  This statement was immediately wrong and a direct contradiction of my slow motion lifestyle.  I allowed the statement to stand because its wistful gush was enjoyable, roughly spiritual, and juicy.  

It brought thoughts of a nightmare I once had that eventually, through sustained lack of action, curdled into just a dream, a dream that had a trolled atmosphere of never-ending.  A dream that felt three years long.  A nightmare-incubated dream that appeared seven months after that moment of apex possibility and only the second dream after.  

There was a group of us.  We were in a house, we didn’t know we were in a slasher movie, we had thought it was a self-liberation biopic.  We were pursued by a presence we did not expect.  But every time there was a shot of the killer, the killer had been deleted in post.  Only a tense and expectant camera followed us around, and we screamed at empty spaces at the top of the staircase and in corners of rooms.  Dissonant music accompanied us, which, now knowing we were in a horror movie, we expected and rolled our eyes at. But we never saw the killer and nobody ever died.  

I also remembered the first dream I had after the event, it was very short and involved me waking up at 7am to give a dog one cup of dry food.  The density of hanging leaves in the forest began to inch a feeling of haunch and ceiling overhead, the light landing on the settled foliage only in splatters of rhapsodic dag.  The inevitable feeling of being alone in the woods, despite the steady wash of faraway highway motors, is intimacy with something.  You believe you are not being seen, when small and mundane animals see you, it means absolutely nothing.  With a bear or mountain lion in the mix, at last you will truly feel “seen.”  I was in a freely neglected and shrunken nature preserve on the edge of a midwestern city, I did not think it was possible to be seen by a bear and so I did not feel like I could be noticed.  Thus I felt intimacy.  

The content of that intimacy had zero intellectual value.  It was only the comfort of being fully hidden, safe and alone.  I was impressed by how much thick cover the trees supplied since the preserve itself was state park theater.  The trees hid me from the sky, repressed my existence from something that could watch me.  I basked.  I thought of the substantial bulge of an older male in tight-fitting jean shorts.  In this context of feeling unseen, it seemed the thru line of my consciousness in bringing up such an image was the keyphrase, “something hidden.”  The intimacy began to retreat as a counter.  Again, my head disenrolled me from a healing terrestrial feeling; it looked at nature with vast inexperience, it pursued a perspective of mountainscape print out.  I tried to recover the hypnotic sap of that momentary solitude and continued walking. Of course the interruption of erotica in mind is one of the more iconic nature moves.  And yet for some reason it seemed to unravel the hallmark atmospherics of a more investigative mystery.  Such a divide was proven by watching my pivots of attention between two tickles.  For instance, on one side, direct observation of a boner. The other side, fog covering an empty island highway at night.  I thought I knew well the narrative arc of a priapism, and I thought I did not yet know much about the carnage in my seeping memories.  It seemed obvious — of the things that controlled me, I prioritized with meaning the one I did not know much about.  And instinctively, being alone under thick canopy felt like good setup for that kind of self-irrigation.  I thought of the bulge again then saw another sparrow and after it reasonably bopped about for a skoach I suggested to it, “get away from me fuckface.” Again it did not move.  

I walked several paces off the path and leaned against a definite oak trunk, wondering if my old person stage makeup was still intact, glancing towards the voyeuristic rays of sun slipping through the trees, well diffused and beginning their noticeable descent.  I listened.  After approx. twenty seconds of listening I heard the long-churning spew of a motorcycle gunning down the road about a quarter mile away, somehow powerful enough to overwhelm the peaks of forest ambience with its quite rascally discharge, hunh, the streaks of horrific classic rock revival spraying after it.  I thought, “stop subverting me,” then felt the newly introduced stance of someone in my peripheral vision.  They did not advance or retreat but did fidget.  Probably, I could not be sure without glancing directly, pretending to look up something on their phone.  They seemed about fifteen feet away from me, I considered if I would have to kill them in self-defense.  

“How’s it going?” a man’s voice directed at me from the trail, giving me permission to look at him directly.  A balding but well-maintained buzz of greying black hair, glasses, a thin white-yellow-green-black button down tartan print department store shirt tucked into leather belt and loose fitting blue jeans, the eye eventually and uncontrollably being led down to the neon pink, orange and yellow running shoes with white laces low-key dusted in a sampling of diaphanous schmutz.  My “hi” was squeezed out with full defenses.  The man did not say anything back but immediately enacted some plan of his, made obvious in his eyes that pressed on my face with an unmistakable singularity. He pursued unbroken eye contact to evaluate the potentiality of the interaction. I responded by looking away, remembering it was a powerful move in the game. I also refused to believe he thought me attractive enough for whatever in-development future passed through his turgescent nethers.  As a mature adult, I was no longer available to rawk out with my cawk out but clearly the cast of desperation on the man made it possible for me to appear sexually acceptable, as evidenced by his not leaving.  Nor did I imagine that he produced much foregrounded desire in an m4m community; lastly he probably stayed because he was closeted.  I tried to maintain an appearance of clueless indifference, comparable in chillness to deciding to write ‘U R’ in a text message the same moment you observe a plastic bag fly in the wind towards a sleeping stray cat. Since the man did not leave or say anything, I also waited another 7-10 seconds in silence and downward glance.  Yet this tactic, usually so effective in social settings, had failed, and so I looked at him again.  And again the charged stare of non-verbal magic.  The humid air was beginning to slightly cool as the wind filled the space between my collar and neck, suggesting it might rain soon.  But behind the man’s head the sun, flanked by fleshy lard-swept clouds in various indigo exposures, was still visible.  I hoped if the increase in gusts continued that they might produce a temporary bald spot on the crown of my head as I said, “why are you looking at me?”

He did not immediately respond, but severed all links with my eyes.  I watched his glance minutely dart from one close location on my face to the next, “do you have makeup on?”

Each generation, freer than the last. The man did not know the answer for sure, but that he had noticed something was confirmed.  Very exciting, I beamed internally.  I controlled the beam.  There was still so much work to be done.  

Towards the man I projected breathtaking displeasure.  I assumed the keyed up tone of someone wanting to be regularly shared on the internet: “I’m just trying to enjoy the forest on my day off sis so don’t—” and shut off inexplicably, though recognizing as the system recoiled that the implication of this man’s advances had lightly cracked some automated timecode in my lower lefthand corner of frame.  My body — I had only felt it all of a sudden.  Shoulders were arched forward to protect my underbelly, chest was swollen and stuffed with the debris of a delayed reaction of terror, single inconsistent tingle in left leg suggested the tiniest strobing marquee aimed at the brain, suggesting “run.”  I had thought, this is not a dangerous situation at all.  A little unusual but not something I haven’t experienced before.  Something I could refuse and easily walk away from.  

The body had behaved differently.  Sunset mounted.  The body had believed it was going to die.  I hadn’t even noticed.  Internal monologue always suggested much to investigate when looking for a solution, it presented long interconnected hallways and sliding doors, considerations of escape and tactical movement.  It berated the body for not reading the situation correctly or at all, it hated the body’s spontaneous and inept mechanisms.  It relished any reference to the phrase “bassackwards” but in this case the body was right.  If I was to be killed by this person was still up in the air, I leaned towards no, but the body had not been reacting to my imminent death, only suggesting how relaxedly I pretended to advance through commercial district sidewalks, gas station candy aisles, cruisy chip bag-strewn forest preserves as if I’d never been reorganized by some sort of adaptation of death in which you survive. There was much work to be done, much work, to make the hair of my eyebrows more profuse and unkempt.  My nose hair, which was way too thin and manageable, samesies.  It was with the failure of a deep breath that the gauze of that summer sunset coaxed me back into the scene, despite the marquee now reading “Run II: Darkest Before Dawn.”  The man had not known how to respond to my ejection from the clapback.  I took stock, the forest appeared momentarily still and squirrelless.  His energy seemed as if grappling with the possible realities of what I was.  If crazy, at least in the way that interferes with verbal communication, I was no longer an option in his “mmm………damn”-ridden design.  If crazy but able to continue clear conversation, or if so shy as to appear only intermittently awkward in conversation with strangers, I was still a highly available mark.  

“Do you like it here?” he asked.  It seemed that micro makeup and abandoned sentences were not considered dealbreakers for someone in his position.  My body continued to want to leave and I stayed, he took a few steps forward, staring again with that binary intensity where the recipient must commit to its endgame or flash exit.  

A strap broke in me: I suggested, “I hate it here.”  The comment reached him. He looked as if to be re-processing me under a blank face but maintained his slow approach.  I was answering his questions coherently and so I was incredibly sexy, perhaps.  “I’m not doing well,” I followed up, using a long-acting smile-to-smirk succession in an attempt to muffle it.  

This was ignored, “I’ve got a pretty big one,” silence, breeze, sunset, wow — squirrel, “what are you looking for out here, alone?”  

Silence, squirrel, “you know where you are, right?”

Breeze, trees, sunset, reggaeton in the distance, instinct erupted — I stepped forward. “It’s not yet time for my annual anal,” my voice cracked.  “In fact, it won’t happen this year, or ever again.”  

A pause was produced, though it was clear he didn’t quite grasp my meaning.  I stood still, now staring at him in order to properly knead the info.  Finally a look of understanding on his face — “oh, I’m sorry” and he exited back up the trail, all spells dismantled.  

I remained in the woods.  I looked at the squirrel.  I even yearned to see a sparrow, uninterested in knowing why.  I allowed the intellectual regulations to rest, I listened to the joyous pump of prancing squirrel feet on twig-bedazzled forest floor.  I looked at the sunset, while blocking the word “beautiful,” and liked it.  I walked to the path, turning away from the exit with the rush of a recently liberated preteen spray-painting an anarchy symbol on the door of a rusty abandoned sedan next to discontinued freight train tracks that are overgrown with weeds and yellow wildflowers.  I wanted to walk deeper into the woods, I wanted to be in the woods when it got dark.  I wanted to be alone and without a mind.  Knowing it was untrue, I nevertheless proposed to myself, “I think I could cum just from being alone for 3 weeks.”  After a feisty fifty or sixty steps around the curving path, I met chain link fence separating the forest from a row of backyards and their respective single family homes.  I thought of the cliche of an evil character in a kid’s movie laughing maniacally for some time then very suddenly stopping to present a severe and unamused face.  It surfaced as a whimper.  

[timeagainreviews]

A Loch back at a Zygon Era

Hello friends! I've had quite the week! Monday was my birthday, so my boyfriend and I took a road trip around Scotland. We saw lots of things from the Beatrix Potter Garden in Birnam, to the Cave of Caerbannog from Monty Python, to the Devil's Pulpit in Dumgoyne. But our main destination was Loch Ness! We settled into our hotel by watching "Terror of the Zygons," which seemed appropriate considering our surroundings. Naturally, I decided to review it here. Before I do, however, I would like to thank all of you who have been liking and reblogging my stuff lately. It means a lot to know I'm connecting with people. Thank you for your support!

On the surface, "Terror of the Zygons," appears to be just like any other serial of its era. However, if you do a bit of digging, you'll discover that there are some interesting facts about its production. Did you know that there was a sort of "real-world," tie in with the story? No, I don't mean Nessie. Think closer to Mickey Mouse. In 1975, Tom Baker played the Doctor for the August "Disney Time," bank holiday special. After introducing several clips from Disney films, he is called away by the Brigadier to the events of Terror of the Zygons. I can't help but wish this information was known to me before writing my Doctor Who and Disney article! You can watch the clips on youtube. They feature Tom being suitably bizarre.

Along with having an unusual prequel, the story also had a deleted scene from the beginning which was later colourised by YouTuber "babelcolour," for the DVD release. This edited version is the one I rewatched for today's review. The scene begins with the TARDIS materialising invisibly. The Doctor walks out from nothingness, wearing a matching tartan tam and scarf, replacing his usual fedora and scarf. Not far behind are Sarah Jane and Harry Sullivan wearing said hat and scarf respectively. There's something rather humorous about the Doctor using his companions as human hat racks. Considering Brigadier Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart's name, it seems appropriate that the Doctor is sporting the Royal Stewart tartan. I can't help but wonder if the costume department did this on purpose. After rematerialising the TARDIS to "fix," it back to it's usual broken police box state, the three continue their journey to answer the Brigadier's Disney Time summons. It seems an oil rig off the coast of Scotland has crashed into the sea just shortly after having lost radio contact.

After hitching a ride from the eccentric Duke of Forgill, the three meet up with a kilted Brigadier in a small Scottish inn where the landlord, Angus, plays bagpipes ad nauseam. They're really driving the Scottish shit home, which makes sense when you consider they filmed the episode in Sussex. Also gathered at the inn are Sergeant Benton, various UNIT soldiers, and a man from the oil company named Huckle. The Duke has some curt words with Huckle, informing him that any crewmen found on his land will be shot. After leaving in a huff, we see one of these crewmen wash ashore, seemingly alive. Over the past month, three different rigs have all met their demise. The gang splits up Scooby-Doo style. Dr Harry goes off to check on the injured crewmen, while Sarah stays behind to get the scoop from the locals. And the Doctor goes off to be the Doctor.

Back at the inn, Sarah mentions the odd nature of the Duke to Angus who promptly defends the duke as a good man. However, even he has to admit that the Duke has been acting strangely since the oil companies came. After letting go most of his servants, the only real bit of interaction he's had lately was gifting the inn with a goofy looking stag head. Nowadays the Duke keeps mostly to himself at Forgill Castle. The surrounding area of Tulloch Moor seems steeped in mystery. People go missing as the mist comes in, Angus tells Sarah as they're being spied upon from a distance. Eavesdropping in on the conversation over a veiny, bio-mechanical screen, an unknown figure watches from the shadows.

While driving alone, Harry spots the washed-up man from the rig and jumps out to help him. Believing him to be yet another trespasser, a beardy fellow by the name of Caber shoots the survivor and wings Harry across his brow, rendering him unconscious. Back in the bio-mechanical ship, alien villains twist and caress a fleshy panel in the weirdest form of nipple play ever seen on Doctor Who, causing the destruction of another oil rig near Ben Nevis. While trying to decipher the signal that has been jamming the oil rigs' radios, the Doctor learns of Harry's brush with death.

After checking on Harry, the Doctor goes out to inspect the oil rig wreckage where he discovers strange holes in the foundation. After taking a cast of the holes with plaster of Paris, the cast reveals what looks like the shape of an impossibly large sharp tooth. During a call with the Doctor, Sarah is attacked by the previously seen alien hand, which belongs to none other than a fearsome Zygon! I've always loved their design, especially in this scene. Something about the shape of its mouth is particularly disturbing. I was slightly disappointed about the redesign from the new series. I'm a big fan of the Zygon cat nose. I almost named one of my cats Zygon due to his dark orange fur and similar nose shape, but my partner at the time vetoed that idea. I named him Rory instead.

After discovering both Harry and Sarah missing, the Doctor discovers Sarah in a decompression room for divers, the door slightly ajar. I was annoyed by the fact that the Doctor fell for such an obvious trap, but it also led to an intriguing sequence. Harry's nurse, Sister Lamont, closes the heavy door behind the Doctor and seals it shut for decompression. Running out of air, the Doctor hypnotises Sarah and enters into a trance to conserve air. I'm a big fan of any time the Doctor acts like a bit of a mystic. I'm a meditator myself, so it's cool to see the Doctor tap into the innate powers of thought control. One of the side effects of certain meditations is a slowing of breathing. It was nice that the scene doesn't overly explain this. It allows Tom the chance to really play up his weird alien charm as his eyes roll back and he howls toward the ceiling. Moments like these are why I love Tom Baker so much. He's not afraid of being utterly bizarre.

It's around this time we begin to learn a little about the Zygons. Having taken Harry to their ship, their leader, Broton, tells him a bit about their history. After they crash-landed centuries ago they awaited rescue while subsiding on the lactic fluid of their giant Nessie-like cyborg pet known as the Skarasen. That's correct, you did not misread that- they feed off of cyborg breast milk. Only with a show like Doctor Who can you get a sentence like that. You've kind of got to love that. After discovering their planet was destroyed by a cosmic event, they redirected their efforts toward getting their suckers on Earth. The Skarasen is to be the form of Earth's destructor, as no human weapon could hope to penetrate its augmented skin. In order to move their plan into motion, the Zygons gas the village, knocking the Brigadier and the UNIT soldiers out cold, thus allowing them to move in secret. Luckily for the Doctor and Sarah, Sergeant Benton was on the lookout for them where he saves them from death by asphyxiation.

After coming to, Huckle gives the Doctor a bio-emitter that attracts the Skarasen, which he found among the wreckage of the rig. Having bugged the inn, the Zygons reveal to Harry that they use the psychic imprint of humans in order to mimic their form. He sees the likes of Sister Lamont, Caber, and the Duke, stored in hibernation chambers, maintaining a link to their Zygon counterparts. They use Harry's form to slip back to the inn where they may fetch the emitter. But he is intercepted by Sarah who is concerned by his odd behaviour. She chases him into a barn where they scuffle in a manner that had me weirdly thinking of “Super Vixens.” Russ Meyer's Doctor Who is not something I ever expected to imagine. After a bit of trouble, Zygon Harry falls from a hayloft onto his own pitchfork, killing him instantly and revealing himself to Sarah as a Zygon. However, the crafty Zygons completely evaporate his remains to hide any evidence. I wondered why they didn't just do the same thing to the emitter in the first place, but I guess the answer is "it doesn't do that." Ok, sure, whatever. Now free from his psychic link with the Zygon, Harry is able to sneak about on their ship unabated.

After realising the Zygons were working from the shadows, the Doctor assumes they must have bugged the inn somewhere, so the lads go about searching the place from top to bottom. I love Angus' indignant response to the idea that his inn might have actual bugs. Angus Lennie's performance as Angus is a true highlight in the story. Afraid of the humans discovering that the goofy stag head must be the bug, the Zygons decide to send the Skarasen to rid themselves of these tiresome humans. After figuring out the secret of the emitter, the Doctor draws the Skarasen away from the village only to find it has fused itself to his hand. But Harry's meddling with the ship's systems allows the Doctor the ability to toss the emitter in the path of the Skarasen, destroying it in the process. 

The Doctor and friends meet up and go to Forgill Castle to ask permission to drop depth charges into Loch Ness, the source of the signal. Their hope is to draw the Zygons out. Meanwhile, the Sister Lamont Zygon goes to fetch the stag head and fights with Angus in the process, killing him. It's a sad ending for one of the more likeable characters, but it's also kind of wonderful in its simplicity. I never quite understood why the Zygons needed to turn people into electric balls of something I might pull out of my hairbrush, as they did in "The Zygon Invasion." If anything, I much prefer the updates they received in Mark Morris' "The Bodysnatchers." Using venom from their suckers matches their physiology far better than superpowers. Morris really fleshed out the Zygons in a way I wish the show would. Seeing them in their initial incarnation using brute force seems far more practical to me. I think sometimes, more is less.

After discovering a way into the Zygon ship, they save Harry, but the Zygons flee with the Doctor still onboard. The Doctor gets a wonderful opportunity to match wits with Broton in a speech that includes my all-time favourite Fourth Doctor line- "You can't rule the world in hiding. You've got to come out on to the balcony sometimes and wave a tentacle." Evidently, that line was ad-libbed by Tom Baker, only further solidifying my love for the man. He makes a good point though, the Zygons have mostly been working from the shadows, in secret. The Zygons fly away, masking their trail from UNIT, still hiding. I must admit, it's not abundantly clear what their plan actually is. Sure they intend to use the Skarasen against earth's weapons, but there doesn't seem to be a whole lot of explanation as to how the oil rigs play into everything. There's mention of turning the Earth into something more habitable for Zygons, but I'm honestly not sure. I asked my boyfriend what his impression was, and he couldn't quite figure it out either.

There's a lot of what happens at this point in the story that seems like happenstance. The UNIT crew and Sarah end up going to London, which also happens to be where the Zygons have set their next target. They plan to swim the Skarasen up the Thames to wreak havoc on Westminster Abbey. In my review for "Castrovalva," I mentioned how the Fourth Doctor's super-heroics were oftentimes overstated, and what comes next is nothing shy of extraordinary. After rigging some ventricle type wiring from within his cell, the Doctor uses his own body to complete the circuit, allowing UNIT to see past the Zygon's scramblers and pinpoint their location. I loved that it was Benton that did this, by the way. This was twice in one story where Benton got to play hero. They pinpoint the ship's location to be a disused quarry, which made me ugly cackle. Classic Doctor Who used quarries so often to make up an alien planet, that the idea of them saying "This actually is a quarry," seemed almost cheeky. Broton, thinking the Doctor has died, uses his Duke disguise once more to go plant another emitter in Westminster. After releasing the human captives aboard the Zygon ship, the Doctor sounds an alarm and sets off the self destruct killing the remaining Zygons onboard. Yay, murder!

The UNIT soldiers dispatch Broton after a fumbling fight scene between him, Harry, and Sarah. All the while, the Skarasen is working its way up the Thames. It's a brilliant little bit of puppetry mixed with stop motion animation that I found completely charming. Even if it does look a bit naff, it's effective enough to be a suitable set piece to end such an episode. It's very much within the tone of the story to have the Loch Ness monster stomping through London. The Doctor manages to trace the emitter and toss it into the open jaws of the Skarasen. It nom nom noms the emitter into nothingness, causing it to lose all interest in the Abbey. The Doctor casually supposes that it will most likely return to its home of Loch Ness. I loved that the show kept the Loch Ness mystery intact. After all is said and done, "Nessie," may still be out there. It wouldn't have felt right killing off a beloved cryptid that brings so much wonder to many. Such feelings of wonder are what Doctor Who thrives upon. Sadly, while we got to keep Nessie, we say goodbye to some regulars. This marks the last regular appearance of both the Brigadier and Harry. With the Doctor no longer relegated to the Earth, UNIT begins to play a much smaller role in the story. And Harry, now back in London, hasn't a lot of need to continue travelling with the Doctor. It's an almost unceremonious end of an era for Doctor Who.

All in all, I really enjoyed this story. While I feel like it somewhat falls apart in the final act, the mystery and intrigue in the first few episodes really draw you in. Even my boyfriend, who is a casual fan, was drawn in by the atmosphere. You can see the beginnings of what was to become the more horror-themed stories such as "The Talons of Weng-Chiang," or "The Horror of Fang Rock." The Zygons are, for me at least, a classic baddie. They may not be as popular or iconic as the Daleks or Cybermen, but I think they work as their own kind of threat. Bringing them back has also proven to be successful. The Big Finish audio "The Zygon Who Fell to Earth," is well worth a listen. There's a lot of care put into this story that I think makes it stand out from others. Geoffrey Burgon's beautifully haunting music was a nice change of pace from Dudley Simpson's usual work. The track "A Landing in Scotland," is particularly memorable. The Zygon ship interior being organic was a unique touch that we rarely see in Doctor Who, save for maybe "The Claws of Axos," and the model work was also pretty damn charming. Having recently been to both Loch Ness and Ben Nevis, it really added something to the experience as well. There is a surprisingly low amount of episodes that take place in Scotland, which is unfortunate. If there's anything this trip has taught me, is that Scotland has a lot to offer. There are so many peaks and valleys covered with lush greenery and deep dark waters. It's easy to imagine that somewhere, something is lurking down below. Hats off to Robert Banks Stewart and Robert Holmes for seeing this potential, and turning out something magical.