#almostdisaster

[brainbetrayed]

"To 2026. May it not totally fuck us in the ass."

2025 / 2024 / 2023 / 2022 / 2021 / 2020 /2019 / 2018 / 2017 / 2016 // @almostdisaster

casper does not watch the countdown on the tv, nor await the first shot of fireworks to light the broadcasted sky. he turns to sam expectantly, like a dog about to go for a walk. there's a small smile upon his lips and playfulness in his eyes. of course, he's thought about this all year. there's not a chance she'll forget, and not a chance he would let her.

"to 2026," she says like clockwork, her own amusement evident by the smirking painted lips; but she neutralises now that they make eye contact, and suddenly, they're both solemn and sensible, "may it not totally fuck us in the ass."

casper smiles. his retorts are never as clever in the moment as he envisions beforehand, but that doesn't matter when his sole audience is the woman who loves him. he almost doesn't mind embarrassing himself in front of her, even now. he's always going to be burdened by insecurity, but it stings a little less when he's held in hands as soft as hers.

"preparation is key," he replies, "as long as we're lubed up, we can take anything."

naturally, inspiring words could only ever be delivered tainted with his stupid fucking sense of humour. some things never change.

[toprovoke-blog]

@almostdisaster

                 “ hello... ? ”   it’s as ominous as it sounds. danny strides in, making the situation as uncomfortable as ever. he glances around the room, chin up, and then looks over to sam.   “ anything happening ----- ... friend ? ”

[unionleader]

@almostdisaster

“i’m tellin’ ya, someone brought a pig with ‘em on the subway. i saw it with my own eyes. it was on a leash and everything!”

[toprovokemoved]

        “HEY THERE YOU FUNKY BITCH!”   danny storms on into sam’s humble abode, visibly intoxicated (before arriving to sam’s, by the way, where he had actually planned on doing so), cradling two glass bottles of unbranded drinks where one can only guess what they contain.   “---WHO WANNA GET FUCKED UP!”

@almostdisaster

[toughlittleguy-blog]

@almostdisaster || plotted starter.

        if he had knocked over a table in his haste to hide, and some boxes were now toppled over on the floor, crutchie hadn’t paid either of them much attention. somehow, this back storage room was the only familiar place he had seemed to find all day, wherever he was -- he had asked people and received new york city in reply, but this looked nothing like new york. nothing like his city at all.

     so where was he? there were too many strange, flashing lights outside, and too many people to really notice him in the gigantic crowds he had encountered. so crutchie had slipped into a back alley, flinching at strange blaring sounds from the streets, and found himself in this back room that strangely -- comfortingly -- smelled like bread. secluded by overturned boxes, he finally closed his eyes, searching for sleep and to hopefully, wake up out of this strange dream. 

[funtocry]

almostdisaster replied to your post: i get an iNDIVIDUAL BOW FOR MY SHOW okay gonna...

IM SO EXCITED IM GONNA CHEER SO LOUD FOR U

like it lasts .5 seconds bc all the urchins get a brief one bUT STILL

[contracas]

@almostdisaster replied to your post:

is he in the classic pose where he’s on his knees and shaking his fists at the sky

it’s pouring rain, lightning strikes a tree in the background. is he crying, or is it just the rain?

[ritahanson]

@almostdisaster

“You’re the one who made these?” Rita’s tone was of the sort that should largely be reserved for asking people about the incredible feats they’d performed. As it was, she happened to be addressing the woman who had apparently baked the sticky bun she’d just been eating with something close to reverence; although as far as Rita was concerned, perfect baking certainly ranked as an incredible feat.

“They’re absolutely incredible. I could eat all of them.” She added with an easy, warm grin.