(Weather segment from Welcome to Beacon Hills. The usual disclaimers about lack of guitar skill apply.)
Welcome to Beacon Hills. A small (or possibly large, we’re not sure) California community where the moon is always full, and mysterious beasts howl while we all pretend to sleep.
Stickers, t-shirts and other shenanigans are available on Redbubble; any proceeds will go to Commonplace Books in support of Welcome to Night Vale.
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Alright, babies. 6000th post.
Our video for today is a request from (and a collaboration with!) the stupendous halffizzbin.
I just. Don’t even. Know what to tell you, man.
Except that this isn’t what a joint effort between a fic writer and a fanartist in the Teen Wolf fandom is supposed to look like.
I’M SCREAMING OMG YOU ARE THE GREATEST
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So my tumblr-bro Mel made THIS POST and then it was four in the morning and this seemed like a good idea for some reason???
(p.s. I imagine this being sung and beat-boxed by whichever members of the pack happen to be present. I bet Erica is a better beat-boxer than me. I bet everyone is a better beat-boxer than me.)
You got the power, you do what you want
Red eyes and tight jeans
You know what that means
Gotta go out and bite some motherfucking teens, ya heard?
Right in the side, ‘cause that’s my style, bitch
Stick with me and live a life worthwhile, what
Got a Camaro and I still can’t smile
Hostile, now line up single-file
Everybody do the Alpha Strut say heeeey
All the betas in the club go
There’s a wolf I can get behind
Look at that swagger
Do the alpha strut
All the betas in the house now
Take a look at my eyebrows
I can somersault!
(The kanima was not my fault)
EDIT: To properly dance to this, put on skintight pants and walk like you’re suddenly bowlegged and exaggeratedly nonchalant:
A loving tribute to fanfiction clichés!
(for hungrylikethewolfie, who also lives a trope-appreciation life ♥ )
We all strive to be original
Don’t want to be called out on a cliché
Some feel shame in writing more of the same
But baby that’s not the way
I like what I like, and I don’t feel bad
That my favorite stories have always had—
Sex pollen, I’m fallen’ in love
Clothes-sharing fits me like a glove
Folks that keep talking in their sleep
While they huddle for warmth to survive, I’m dreaming of
Mistletoe kisses for the holiday season
And getting fake-married for a stupid reason
I’ve read it before but I just want more
Call them contrived but the tropes keep the fandom alive
Biology or some ritual
Means they must have sex so they don’t die
A magic spell turns someone into a kitten
Then a potion makes them unable to lie
A soul-bond, and now they’re in each other’s minds
My favorite fics always wind up having
You can go Harlequin or to a coffeeshop
Or back to high school with the genders swapped
Make them meet online, make them suffer and pine
And if you’re feeling bold, maybe
Make a man have a baby
…I’m unoriginal to my very core
Give me slaves in collars, a little h/c
Hookers, strippers, bartenders, or all three
Kinky wings, heat cycles and everything
Familiar and sweet, make my life complete with
Practice kissing turning friends lovers,
Awkward boners between step-brothers
Truth or Dare, spin the bottle, photographers in love with models
It’s contrived but the tropes make me feel alive
Give me just one more fairytale AU…
SO IT’S 2:30 IN THE MORNING AND I’M STILL KIND OF INEBRIATED AND I CAN’T SLEEP AND I CAN’T HIT HIGH NOTES AND I THINK I SANG THE WRONG LYRICS I USED TO SING IN GRADE SCHOOL ACCIDENTALLY BUT I JUST WANTED TO
Heard “Blue Christmas” at my favorite restaurant yesterday. THE TIME HAS COME.
I wrote this song back when I lived in Phoenix and there wasn’t really an “autumn;” it was more like HEY IT’S SLIGHTLY LESS BLISTERINGLY HOT THAN USUAL. MAYBE. DIFFICULT TO SAY.
So this goes out to all those fans of fall, Starbucks, and/or pumpkin-flavored things who live in dumb places with no discernable seasons. STAY STRONG.