wholelottagin

[wholelottagin]

he was absolutely joking around, but Ricciardo just went “I like the big boss. I wish Mateschitz was the only one making the team. ”

[wholelottagin]

its always “brad pitt drives this” or “brad pitt stars in that” and never “brad pitt dead at 61”

[wholelottagin]

"It wasn't that the city was lawless. It had plenty of laws. It just didn't offer many opportunities not to break them. Swing didn't seem to have grasped the idea that the system was supposed to take criminals and, in some rough and ready fashion, force them into becoming honest men. Instead, he'd taken honest men and turned them into criminals."

- Night Watch by Terry Pratchett

[wholelottagin]

when i was little and i went to church people would talk about “fearing god.” they would use ‘’fear’ to describe like a way of respecting him while understanding his power and i never knew what that  meant until i met a fucking horse 

[wholelottagin]

make oscar cry!

carcar daemon au 🤷‍♀️

When Oscar was a little kid, someone tried to perform an intercision on him and Tegan. A proselytizer on a footpath with a scalpel and a scratchy coat. He doesn’t remember it hurting, but he remembers his mum screaming.

They’ve got a partial bond now. Tegan’s a chinchilla, because it’s what she was when it happened. She’s kind of—flat. Not flat like Oscar is flat, not a masking sort of flat, but like there’s not much to her. Like she’s a real chinchilla, like she’s just an echo. Sometimes she asks how he is, since she can’t tell. He’ll say he’s all good or not great and either way she’ll stare uncomprehendingly. Her fur is so soft but never warm.

Carlos’s daemon is fucking weird for two reasons. One: she never settled so she’ll flit between forms: meerkat, cheetah, ocelot, dove. Two: she talks to other people.

The first time it happens is before a presser. Tegan’s trembling on Oscar’s lap, a side effect of their severed bond. A woman’s voice says, “I can help her.”

He assumes it’s a PA offering a hot water bottle or something, but he looks up from his phone and no one is there. Then Carlos hisses a reprimanding whip of sound between his tongue and teeth: zzt, and a sphinx cat reluctantly slithers back to him from Oscar’s feet, as hairless as Carlos’s own stupid arms.

When he mentions it to Lando, disturbed, Lando just says, “Yeah, Bella’s like that.”

She offers to help again as a frog, a pigeon, and a monkey.

The monkey one is the worst, because she touches Tegan. Tegan’s sleeping in the kangaroo pocket of Oscar’s hoodie, and Bella reaches her little monkey hand inside. “Let me help.”

It would be awkward to reply to someone else’s daemon when he barely even speaks to his own, so Oscar says nothing. He just sits there in hospitality letting someone else’s monkey stroke his pocket chinchilla and none of it is a fucking euphemism at all.

And then Carlos runs in, a security guard trying to stop him, looking fucking insane—sweaty and panting with drugged out pupils. He says, “Do you feel?”

“Do I feel what?” Oscar demands, voice too high, feeling only exposed.

“Nothing.” Carlos snatches up Bella and runs out. Her long arm snakes around Carlos’s retreating back and waves goodbye.

Lando says, “Okay, she isn’t usually like that.”

During summer break, Carlos calls to say, “Bella wants to fix your bond.”

Oscar blinks. He’d assumed the call would be GPDA related. “Tell Bella to get in line, mate.”

“She can,” Carlos argues. “I know she can. Come over.”

It’s—cruel, actually. It’s fucked up to get his hopes up about the thing every first and second and sixteenth opinion daemon specialist has said is unfixable. But Oscar goes anyway.

Tegan shakes in his arms the whole walk there.

When he answers the door, Carlos says, “Get in the bath with me.” He strips off his shirt, steps out of his pants.

“Did you claim to have the power to cure my incurable condition just to get me naked?” Oscar inquires.

Carlos waggles his eyebrows lasciviously, but just says, “No.”

Bella is already in the bath. She’s an axolotl.

“She can regenerate the bond,” Carlos explains, scrambling into the tub with a slosh. “We have been practicing, to know. I didn’t want to say this to you until it was clear, until we knew for sure. We bought one of these severing scalpels on the dark web.”

Every syllable out of his mouth is more brain-fucked than the last. “You’ve been severing your bond?”

“No, just little cuts.” Carlos demonstrates by reaching out and running his fingernail over Oscar’s hand in little shivery lines. “Cut, cut. She can heal them. She can. Get in.”

Heart racing, clumsy with Tegan in his arms, Oscar shrugs off his clothes down to his boxer briefs like Carlos.

Carlos has body hair this week. He says, “You have many moles.”

Oscar climbs in the water. “If this doesn’t work, I’m drowning you.”

“I have to hold her.”

“Tegan?”

“Yes. We must stretch the bond in the water so Bella can see. Chinchillas cannot swim. I looked it up.”

Oscar’s stomach churns.

“Oscar, Oscar. It will be okay, yes? It is okay. Let me hold her.” Carlos looks manic and he already admitted to using the dark web, but for some psycho reason, Oscar hugs Tegan tight and hands her over.

Carlos gasps. “Okay, okay. Bella.”

Bella swims back and forth between Oscar and Tegan, doing her unknown daemon magic. She and Carlos speak rapid Spanish and Carlos continuously pets Tegan’s fur.

“Okay, okay. Oscar? Oscar, are you ready?”

Oscar squeezes his eyes shut. “You better not be fucking with me. If you’re fucking with me, I’m going to—”

Carlos gently places Tegan back into his arms and she’s—

Warm. Warm and alive and staring and thinking and feeling and he can feel her.

“What,” he says, sobbing and stupid, “what, what?”

Carlos and Bella—now a bright green bird with an orange face—leave them in the bathroom and shut the door.

Oscar feels and cries and Tegan says, “He’s in love with you.”

Oscar laughs, high on her, giddy. “Yeah, sure.”

“No, I could feel it. When he held me.”

“He was hard?” Oscar asks.

“No, I could—oh my god.” Then Tegan’s laughing and he’s laughing and they’re googling what lovebirds look like.

[wholelottagin]

seed packets!! 🌱🌱🌱 | prints

[wholelottagin]

they should have a cambrian explosion again

[wholelottagin]

Tommy neglected to inform me about the body

[wholelottagin]

little pig made of glass and his brother, little pig made of glass made of paint

[wholelottagin]

reminder that whilst yet another premiere of the F1 movie hits the world with its misogynistic representation, today June 23rd we celebrate the International Women in Engineering Day🤍

[wholelottagin]

a funny thing about having a Problematic Blorbo is that you'll periodically come across a post along the lines of "um let's not forget that [Blorbo] is a bad person..." listing their various crimes, and if you have a modicum of intellectual honesty you find yourself nodding along and saying yeah it's true... but it's the greyness of their character that makes them so compelling... At the same time though you have a little Saul Goodman in your ear going "your honor in their defense: who cares like omfgggg who caresssssss like come onnnnnn"

[wholelottagin]

One sad side effect of big box stores is that you just don’t get lifelong hyper fixation guy access like you used to.

Like yeah I can go to Menards and buy a door.

But it used to be I could go to the door store, and speak to a man whose sole passion in life was doors and who would talk about the history of door insulation patterns over the last 50 years without stopping to breathe.

That man is gonna find me the BEST door option for me.

Seriously my neighborhood had one of these. They were across the street from the lighting shop owned by the guy who could tell you the exact date, off the top of his head, that your property got electrical wiring based on your address.

Now these guys rarely get to own a shop, make a good living, and sell the very finest doors for decades. They’re relegated to Reddit posts which are informative but ultimately do not replace door guy having a door shop.

I don’t want to talk to some miserable, underpaid 20 year old who was in plumbing last week and in doors this week and doesn’t know a hammer from a hanger.

I want my door guy back.

[wholelottagin]

[wholelottagin]

dark, twisted, and cruel

[wholelottagin]