#i got a lil experimental with this and i GOTTA ADMIT.

[dantelionwishes]

koitsuki week 2024 day 5 ⇒ lies

"ɪ'ʟʟ ʙᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴᴇ ᴡʜᴏ ʜᴀꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴅɪʀᴛʏ ᴊᴏʙ."

[gk narrator voice] and he, in fact, did not do that dirty job. 🤭 so erm that was a lie!! ☝️🤓

#gk #golden kamuy #koito otonoshin #tsukishima hajime #koitsuki #koitsuki week 2024 #i got a lil experimental with this and i GOTTA ADMIT. #ITS LOOKING REALLLLLY FLY....kinda slayed tbh #lionhe(art)

[maximotts]

hiya motts!

i wanted to share a scenario ive been thinking abt lately,, and it's just where you and wanda build a pillow fort together and just snuggle or read books together inside, i honestly think it's pretty cute and cozy & i couldn't stop thinking abt it recently hshshswhs 💞

anw thx for listening! i hope ure havin a great day <33

(also i was also wondering if i could be 🍊 anon by any chance if thats fine with u !)

HELLO IM HERE WITH THE FIC! Thank you lil orange for this adorable little idea and I'm sorry I've taken so long to reply!! Again this is unedited because I started typing words and didn't stop so uhm.. we'll just go with it

words: 1.5k

wanda maximoff x reader; fluff, just some coziness with our fave post-AoU gal, emo Wanda, pillow forts, mentions of HYDRA/Wanda's sad childhood, crushes no one will admit while Pietro plays the background matchmaker

“I can make whatever fort you want in two seconds, you know? I could build it in front of you even…” Wanda trudged down the stairs with more pillows from who knows where, grabbing as many as she could because you’d insisted on maximum pillowy softness, whatever that meant. 

You popped out with a gasp, your head poking from under a disorderly pile of blankets and couch cushions. “That’s not fun, Wanda! Doing it ourselves is the only way to go.” Wiggling out from under the mess you’d made in the living room, you took some of the pillows from her… only to dump them in a new pile next to your current one. “Gotta stay organized for the build!”

Wanda huffed at the sight, wondering how you were going to make sense of your building materials, if you could really call them that. She let you pull her along, but as you started placing cushions here and there, Wanda just stood still, admittedly lost on how to even start. 

After a few minutes of waiting around, you realized Wanda hadn’t taken even one step and you frowned at her. “It’ll go faster if you help me.”

“I don’t really…” The brunette dropped her eyes to the blankets at her feet, rubbing her arm nervously. She’d never really made blanket forts; they were on TV and she knew the general idea, but growing up orphaned in a war-torn country meant she was lucky if she and Pietro had one single blanket from night to night. With HYDRA, there was no such thing— life was only her cell and the experimentation chamber until she got her powers and once she did, she was watched 24/7, given things to hold only when Strucker was around to instruct her what to do with them. She hadn’t been in America long and after the Ultron incident, she had to keep a low profile which meant going out, making friends, exploring her new surroundings was off limits. 

Pietro was great at making friends with his new teammates, gaining their trust quickly, but Wanda had been in their heads and for that they were rightfully wary. Not mean, but she didn’t get invited to outings nearly as much as her twin— being mostly quiet didn’t help, not when she preferred sitting and watching others instead of taking the leap and joining in. For all her powers, an outgoing nature was not one of them; that was always Pietro’s thing. You were his friend first too, hanging out with him at meals and after missions, but unlike most of the others, you talked to her as well. Even if you found her without her silver-haired brother, you still waved at Wanda or sat next to her and asked about her day.

And so she started gravitating towards you as well, seeking you out if she wanted company or a break from Pietro’s non-stop rambling. Sometimes the two of you were silent and others Wanda opened up, asking you questions about your home or teaching you about hers. That’s how you learned just how little she’d had the opportunity to do and when you’d resolved to give her those experiences, no matter how small. 

Which is also how you’d become familiar with the look Wanda wore now, unsure and retreating in an attempt not to appear upset or uncomfortable.  You weren’t a mind reader, but somehow in your short time together, you’d grown to know her well. “There’s no right way to do it, I promise. Here, you can help me lay the foundation.”

You took her hand and brought her around to the half-constructed ‘foundation,’ a layer of thick couch cushions Wanda recognized from Natasha’s room. “Isn’t she going to miss these?”

“We’re going to give them back. Also, that woman never rests. I doubt she’s ever used that couch,” You shrugged, leaving out the part that this was not your first time taking your teammate’s furniture. Wanda thankfully didn’t argue, instead following your lead and laying out various cushions until it reached out multiple feet from the edge of the couch. “Now, true building begins!”

Wanda helped you arrange stacks of pillows into makeshift walls, drape sheets over sides of the couch, even had the great suggestion of grabbing a long baton from the training room for a true tented feel. She didn’t realize she was smiling until her face hurt, tossing a square pillow at you as you joked about her lopsided drapery skills. “You said there’s no right way! This is my way and I think it looks… just fine!” 

“Right right, we’ll see how long it stays up then.” She finally understood what you meant when you said maximum softness as you started throwing pillow after pillow against the floor of the fort, making such a thick place to lay on, Wanda was afraid she’d never want to get up when she sat down. 

The two of you took a step back to gaze upon your handiwork and truly, Wanda couldn’t help but feel proud at what she’d done. “Building it ourselves was fun.”

You turned to look at Wanda, her small smile as she looked at the fort making your heart swell. Seeing her happy, even if it was just for an afternoon, was always the highlight of your day especially if it was something you’d done together. “Told you so! The most fun part is enjoying the fruits of our labor though,” You grabbed the snacks the two of you had chosen earlier and ducked under the fort cover, settling in with Wanda right on your heels.

She chose to sit right next to you, close enough that she could promptly lean her head on your shoulder. Thankfully Wanda remembered the remote and the movies you’d planned to watch because as she toggled through the various screens, you were still frozen with the shock of her laying against you. She smelled so sweet, you wanted to cry or hug her or anything to keep her close like this forever. So many weeks ago, Wanda made a passing comment on affection, casually mentioning how she valued physical touch in reminding her loved ones that she cares. When you pointed out how little you’d seen her touch anyone, Wanda’s face instantly fell.

My only family is Pietro and the others, well… I don’t think most of them trust me enough to let me close to them, much less touch or hold their hand. 

You’d assured her then you weren’t afraid of her, that you would never shy away from her for something meant to be a kind gesture. She said thank you and that she appreciated your honesty and that was that before she switched to a completely different topic of conversation. Since then, you’d noticed every time Wanda squeezed Pietro’s arm or gave him a hug after returning and while you understood her hesitancy, you found you were a little jealous. You wanted to know what it felt like to be on the receiving end of Wanda’s affection, yearned for it even, but you’d never voice such a thing.

So this, today, whatever resting her head on you meant, you felt as though you could melt right into the floor. Pietro made you swear not to say a word, but learning of how much she talked about you, that she didn’t think you were annoying or pushy, but instead a welcome comfort, was the most pride you’d ever felt in your time being an Avenger. If you could spend the rest of your days showing Wanda your favorite things and helping her find some of her own, you’d be overjoyed. 

“Your thoughts are loud again.” Wanda looked at you quizzically, turning her head to search your expression.

“W-What—” She swore not to read anyone’s mind without permission anymore; but she’d told you if someone thought really intensely, she couldn’t help but sense it. Just like hearing a conversation as you walk down the street, it wasn’t something she could stop. This wasn’t the first time Wanda had called you out for your loud brain, mortifying each time you realized your feelings for her were overwhelming again. 

She never told you what she could hear, scared you might panic if you were aware she could particularly tell whenever your thoughts uttered her name. It was fine, she could wait patiently until you were ready to tell her about your crush yourself and she could say she liked you right back. “If you’re thinking about my side of the fort, don’t. Shut up and watch the movie.”

#🍊 anon. #I hope that this is a fun pillow fort movie night adventure! #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x f!reader #wanda maximoff fic #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda maximoff imagine #marvel imagine #maximotts #motts writes.

[mikansei]

from a doylist perspective i recognize why kisuke - like a lot of characters in visual media - doesn't get outfit changes often. 1: kubo and/or the animators would have to design & draw the new outfit, which would create more work for themselves for no narratively relevant reason, and 2: a single, consistent design gives a sense of continuity, helps with character recognition for the audience & helps with brand recognition for merch (hence: The Hat™).

BUT.

from a watsonian perspective i find it MUCH more fun to believe kisuke simply found one (1) outfit that he liked & bought a dozen identical copies of it b/c damn if that ain't relatable!!! when i have to replace something in my wardrobe i, too, simply wish to buy an identical version of that exact same thing forever! (which the fashion industry has decided is Fucking Illegal don't get me started lmao)

anyway i don't have a good segue but here's my (personal) headcanons:

💚 as per word of god, he's an incredibly picky eater whose favorite food is plain rice, so extrapolating a bit - maybe it's a texture thing. tight clothes BAD shirt collars BAD socks EVIL

🤍 after having his life upended by captaincy & his worldview upended by aizen's betrayal, he craves stability & is allergic to change - so he's chronically, stubbornly unadventurous in certain aspects of daily life. save the experimentation for the lab (and/or the bedroom)! stop trying to get him to wear socks!

💚 his hair covering his eyes, the hat & the fan are all ways to hide his face when he doesn't want to be Perceived - which is not the same as not being literally physically seen, so the hat & fan being so eye-catching isn't a contradiction (to him. he may or may not be aware how little sense this makes to anyone else)

🤍 he emphatically does not care to follow fashion trends - especially since they change so often in the human world. his outfit was perfectly fine & normal in the 1920s thank u very much! what do u mean that was 80 years ago? the '20s were like, last week!

💚 because he was punted out of soul society with nothing but the clothes on his back, some half-dead friends & a hougyoku, he's loath to throw anything away - so he's kept every gift he's ever been given, even if that gift is a really ugly hat. yes he WILL, in point of fact, wear it every single day for the rest of his life, yoruichi-san! (she & tessai have a betting pool. she is not winning)

🤍 the first black haori with white diamonds at the hem was a gift from shinji, hence why it looks like an inverted captain's haori - complete with insignia on the back. no kisuke does NOT realize that it looks like that, and he's bought eight more just like it since. (the visored have their own betting pool. kensei lost 40 years ago)

💚 (also he will not admit it on pain of death but he wears the haori b/c he got used to the dramatic Swoosh of the captain's haori & REALLY missed it. he can have a lil Swoosh. as a treat)

🤍 the fan was a gift from tessai which might make u think it's secretly an iron fan to be used as a backup weapon but it's not. it's literally just a mass-produced party favor made of cheap bamboo & paper. if everything's secretly a hidden weapon there's no mystique anymore! gotta keep 'em guessing sometimes~

#💚🤍💚🤍💚 #i don't really want to put this in The tag but tumblr doesn't have the 5-tag limit anymore so it is just going. where the fuck ever #kisuke #bleach #if the 'bleach' tag is anything like it was 5 years ago it'll be full of photos of dyed hair lmao

[detectiveisol]

“ Things are deeply messed up and have been for quite some time. “

✉ ──── HOUSE IS NOT A HOME is the DEBUT and 1st EP of korean soloist DETECTIVE ISOL, released on december 12th 2021. the EP consists of FIVE tracks, including the title track EVIDENCE: GUILTY, which was promoted for a week on music shows.

★ . ꜝꜞ ࣪ ──── TRACKLIST + LYRICAL COMMENTARY.

✧˖° LIVING WITHOUT YOU. written by isa and composed by her and partially teddy park, they lyrics hint at a person openly lying in the house she lives in, she expresses how much she hates the person and how she’d wish she could live without them.

“ 넌 피곤해, 살기 편해졌어, 익숙한 그 집, 피곤해, 넌 피곤해, 오래된 가족 사랑 hate you “

✧˖° BLOOD TYPE. written by isa and composed by edith of vct ciencia, the song shifts from the victims perspective to the person she spoke about originally, the song feels almost like a siren luring you in as the person expresses how they managed to tempt the victim by playing the fool.

" 널 속이는 건 쉬웠어 - 당신이라는 사람, 쉬워요 난 내가 하던, 대로 했어, 듣게 될 거야 angels 곧 "

✧˖° EVIDENCE: GUILTY. written and composed by isa, she begs the person to admit their mistakes and admit that they were guilty in seemingly killing her.

" oh you played a fool (범죄를 인정하다) Uh You were G-U-I-L-T-Y played the game so well 너는 그 순진한 눈으로 걷고 있어 (lovin’ you was a crime) "

✧˖° MR STRANGER. written by isa and composed by X3X BOY (producer under ville ent.), it's again in the victims perspective the timeline shifting to the past - where she knows a stranger is watching her or is attracted to her yet she seemingly likes the feeling of it and finds it weirdly intriguing though knowing it's dangerous.

" mr. stranger running into danger , gotta get to know ya (mmh), mr. stranger wanna be your angel, gotta get to know ya (mmh) "

✧˖° I’M SO CURIOUS. written by isa and composed by her and bae of vct ciencia, the perspective once again switches to the guilty person expressing how they wanted to know everything about their victim as well as how they planned the crime.

" 불친절하게 물어보는데, so who is she? 난 이걸 하고 싶었어, all my life, i already know who to blame, 그녀는 그럴 것이다 frame "

★ . ꜝꜞ ࣪ ──── ERA NOTES.

she debuted kinda out of the blue

like usually vidrc isn't THAT BAD at promoting so that was shoking

you could say when it comes to first day view she 'flopped' a little

about 389k views on evidence: guilty in the first 24 hours

apropos promotion - 'one week on music shows' HELLO ?!?

fresh kittys were pissed

isa was also pretty upset :/

but when it comes to critics they loved the ep!!

the only song she got a dragged on a bit was mr. stranger cause it was...experimental (?)

lyrics of mr.stranger also got dragged a lil

isa got praised tho for writing every single song on it!!

she did one tiktok challenge with winter of aespa which went semi viral

released a christmas-themed self made mv of 'i'm so curious' on december 24th

some ppl were pissed that blood type wasn't the title track and wasn't even promoted

#fake kpop group #fictional idol community #kpop addition #kpop oc #oc kpop group

[yurhighnessmio]

✍You are cursed. Every evil deed you perform reduces the time you have left to live. However, good deeds will grant you more time.

Short Story #3 - February 15, 2022; Tuesday; 11:58pm

Do I push this random old woman on a busy street or do I help her cross the road?—was probably the hardest question I had to ask myself in my life.

I am a villain. Well, to be more specific, I'm just a petty thief...who is also, not only hot looking—mind you—but also pretty much of a great guy overall. Don't question that, you don't have to.

Although, I'm kind of an ass, I don't deny that. I mean, what thief isn't a piece of shit, really? Yeah, I steal. Maybe beat a few motherfuckers up here and there when I feel like it. No biggie.

Though, I have to admit, it's not like I have a choice but to do this. This shit happens apparently when you drop off of six grade just because you feel like it. Don't blame me—How was I supposed to know things were gonna turn out this way? It ain't my fault.

You live with what'chu got, and you learn to like it. I mean, I do one job: I steal a few wallets a day then BOOM—I get cash. No working in the office listening to a bunch of good-for-nothings yelling at you to do better. No struggling to pay shitty bills you ain't wanna pay. No wasting hours working all day only to be payed what? Fifty bucks? No. None of that.

You hear how great that is? Damn.

But, you see here, I'm kind of in a bit of a mess and stuff. See, something's happened...I met a bitch, blah, blah, blah, yada, yada—anyways, she got herself a lil too pissed. If you know what I mean?

See, in the thievery industry, you gotta at least have a clue who tf you're messing with. Can't just put your hands in just anybody's pants, if you catch my drift—although, yes, sex? Do your own thing when it comes to that. Fuck a stranger, fuck a friend, fuck a teacher. Do it...Bless you.

Back to the thing. I make her a little mad. She's not happy about it. I made her lose her shit. She's not happy about that either. Stuff happens, yada, yada, and now everytime I do my shit, I'm fucking dying.

Like, what the fuck? What'd I ever do to her dumbass? I returned her wallet, didn't I? Maybe not the money and the credit cards, but the wallet. And isn't that enough? Piece of shit needs to humble herself a bit. Really.

Back to the point, alright, I live, I do my job, right? And all of the sudden, everytime some crazy stuff happens, I feel this fucked up urge telling me that I'm 'bout to be 56 years away from dying. Like, what the hell, man. I mean I get it, I'm not complaining, 56's a lot—I'm actually really satisfied when it comes to that but, you know, what the actual fucking fuck? You know?

Ain't no one's supposed to know shit like that. What am I? A wizard? I ain't no Potter kid, alright? And I can't even tell nobody 'bout this shit cause they'll just think I've lost my cheeseballs...probably will laugh like dumb motherfuckers too, them pieces of shit. All because of that bitch—

At first, I didn't care and sort of ignored it. Cause, duh? What's a bro gotta do when you suddenly feel something telling you that you're dying in 56 years? Exactly. Nothing.

So I continued my shit but fuck, man, the number just keep droppin'. I keep on telling myself, you know, this is all me. It ain't real.

But then, I get this great idea to be a little, and I mean a little, experimental about it. It's sort of like, a guessing game, right? I guess what happens if I do this, I guess what happens if I do that, if I hit someone in the face, if I fuck their wife that I see in the pub, you get me? And man! It was the funnest mother fucking shit I've ever done in my life.

Like, I can say stuff like, "I wonder what's it worth hitting you face?" And they wont know jackshit! Ha! Things were too good. If it were gonna go down regardless of the things I do, then I might as well have fun with it.

So I punch a drug dealer's face—Awesome. I fuck a priest at the altar—Hilarious! I push a bro out of his own fucking balcony—he didn't die, there was a pile of trash below him, but he did sprain his leg and smell like shit—Fucking. Wicked!

Then one day, I walk out of a convenient store after pick-pocketing a few wallets and suddenly I feel my life bar says:

30 minutes; 42 seconds.

What...do I do...? What do I do? What. The. Fuck. Do. I. Mother. Fuckin'. Do?.....Bitch, I run! That's what I do.

I don't wanna fucking die. Yeah, I didn't believe this shit at first. Was it stupid? Who tf knows? Do you believe a motherfucker is robbing a bank before he pulls the gun out? Hell no. You embrace your own cajones. That's wha'chu fuckin' do.

To say that I choked on my own spit because of it is an exaggeration. Though, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't going to do anything about it. So I make sure not to lose my wallets and instead lose my damn shit as I try to look for something nice to do.

It's happened so often than not that when I actually do something nice for once, I get older. No, not get older, like, I don't die. Not like, the immortal type of not dying—I don't even know if that's possible—just, I don't die as early. I live longer—if you understand.

But what the heck can I even do? I don't wanna go around town like a moron going on and helping people for the rest of my life. I have a job. A responsibility to take care of my own ass—nevermind the mention of helping other people. I'm hard enough to maintain as I am.

All because of that bitch. I mean seriously, who does these to people? Witches! God, I didn't even think those things existed—If I knew, I would've backed the fuck out that instant but I didn't. Now I'm dying! What the heck—and I thought I was an asshole?

Looking for something nice to do at the side of a road is not so easy when there's really only one person I can help out: an old woman in her midnight dress and a cane that looks like she could have diabetes, maybe arthritis, who knows?

I gotta help her. But, then again, Help? Really? What am I, a bitch?

My blood is boiling and I don't really feel like helping an old piece of shit like her. I groan as I walk close, eyes darting to the road and back to her. I'm having a crisis:

Do I push this random old woman on a busy street or do I help her cross the road?

Vehicles of all kinds—cars, cheap ones, expensive ones, trucks, motorbikes, ambulances(three of them)—look like they're irking to run over a poor old lady right about now.

I remember the bitch that made me this way. Doing her Harry fucking Potter bullshit on me like there won't be consequences. Wait 'till I discover the existences of witch police. Definitely gonna get her sorry ass arrested.

I'm too pissed. Too pissed to even wanna move an inch from where I stood—staring at her like a damn predator. I am not into grannies, don't even start.

So I push her—mentally, as I actually lend her a hand and help her cross the street, holding her hand like old peope do in tv's.

"Why thank you, young man. Not very many people offer to help old folks like me these days. Your mother must be so proud!"

"Whatever, man." I can't even look at her.

When I reached the other end of the road, I drop her off. It was a fairly large town, but not many people like to go out. So, I wasn't surprised when all I saw at the other end was a mother, her child, and a beggar that seemed to be distracting the woman by insistently begging for coins.

The granny gave her thanks, and walked away. I feel my bar change.

1 day; 29 minutes; 32 seconds.

That's it? One!? I thought, Not to complain, but I worked too hard walking with that old hag's pace just to be added one day to my life. Whoever's in charge with handling my shit is a selfish prick and they fucking know it.

Out of anger, my eyes wander just enough to  see how the child is actually holding a lollipop. My stomach grumbles and I smile at the midget. Then I grab the lollipop and run for it the opposite direction before shoving the thing in my mouth.

I laugh like it's the end of the world. I could hear the child cry. I could also sense my bar change.

28 minutes; 56 seconds.

Son of a bitch.

🌟

Questions?

Comments?

Advice?

No?

Have a great day.

#literature #short story #oneshot #writing #writing prompt

[yeenybeanies]

Robotics and Dentistry

happy new year! this piece is part of a few writings i’ve done in a lil crossover between doom and transformers that @that-prey-lounge & i have been talking about for a while now

setback ( transformers oc ) & the doom slayer / william ( doom )

2,013 words

language warnings, mild mentions of gore, some mouth exploration

thanks for reading!! reblogs > likes!!

“ How the hell did you get something stuck in there? Isn��t your diet liquid? ” 

“ It is, yes, but I— “  Setback frowned and tightened his jaw, though it only further irritated the pain in his mouth. This was an embarrassing predicament he’d gotten himself into, and couldn’t get himself out of alone.  “ I got frustrated, and I bit a demon’s head off, ”  he muttered.

Will stared at him for a long moment, giving him a hard deadpan. Setback returned it in kind, refusing to break under the humiliation. This, unfortunately, was not the first time he’d used his teeth to finish off an adversary—squishy or otherwise. It wasn’t a common tactic he employed, mind, but sometimes the situation called for a swift, decisive crunch to conclude things.

“ Does it hurt? ” 

“ It’s bothersome. ”  Yes, it hurt, but he didn’t want to admit it so easily––not with Will looking at him like that.  “ Are you going to help me or not? ”  The mech pushed a sharp huff through his vents. He had half a mind to disregard Will and deal with the pain himself. Surely whatever fleshy bit stuck in his teeth would rot away eventually. In the grand scheme of things, it’d only be a minor pain for an insignificant amount of time. 

“ That’s fucking nasty. ”  The human grimaced, but he clearly found some humor in the situation as well. He waved his hand, gesturing his consent to be lifted.  “ Let me see. I’ll get it out for you. ” 

It was nasty. Not only the feeling, but the sound of flesh crunching and tearing between his teeth still lingered, fresh, in Setback’s memory. He wrinkled his nose, but bent forward and brought his hand down to gently sweep the human off of his feet. He regarded him with a hard stare, as if warning him to keep his amusement in check. Its success was debatable at best. Setback found himself hesitating, even as he brought Will nearer to his face. 

“ Well? ”  Will swatted the tip of Setback’s nose, making him huff. He started to open his mouth, but he’d only just parted his lips when Will all but lept in, pushing past his incisors and canines. Setback grunted in surprise, jaw jerking down to accommodate the sudden presence. 

Oh, he did not care for this. 

Putting demons in his mouth was nasty, as Will had pointed out, but war brought out terrible things in people. Biting demons in half was one thing. Humans, however, were a different story—or this human, at least. Biting down on Will, or harming him in any capacity, was the last thing Setback wanted to do. 

“ Jesus Christ… I didn’t know you actually had individual teeth. ”  Will laid prone on the mech’s tongue, waist deep in his mouth, and studied his surroundings. Setback had dentition remarkably similar to a human’s, which Will found surprising. While all teeth were ( obviously ) larger, there were unmistakably molars, incisors, and some rather long, sharp canines.  “ What the hell are these for? I have never once seen you chew anything. ” 

Setback flinched a little at the thump to his lower right canine that followed. He tried to speak, but quickly realized that he couldn’t form any words around the human in his mouth. Will chuckled at the attempt nonetheless. The deep, growling voice so close, echoing around him, felt funny. 

“ Yuhh hurry uh, ”  the mech grumbled—or tried to. 

“ Damn—you have li’l lights in here too? ”  Will pulled himself further into Setback’s mouth. Luckily for the both of them, giant alien robots don’t have gag reflexes, so, while it was an odd sensation to feel tiny, human hands rubbing at the back of his throat—presumably at the biolights there—it wasn’t one that was going to make Setback hurl. It did, however, chip away at his already waning patience. 

“ Ui’yuhh— “ 

“ Do they go all the way down? What’s the point of—hey! ”  Setback pinched the human’s lower leg between two digits and unceremoniously pulled him out, dangling him upside down in front of his face. A string of oral fluid dripped from him. The mech levelled Will with a glare. 

“ You are not helping, William. ” 

Will looked up at his captured leg, and then met Setback’s glare, unbothered.  “ I’m looking. Gotta find the damn thing. Let me back in. ”  A smirk crossed his features. No doubt he was feeling a little smug about being needed. 

“ Top right. Towards the back. ”  He scrunched his nose and squinted at the human. Will was enjoying this. For what reason, he couldn’t figure out. Nevertheless, Setback opened his mouth and lowered him back in. He set him down with his back to his tongue, and leveled his head so Will could adjust his position himself. 

The irritant, as he’d said, was lodged between his top, back molars. Will, now with direction, quickly found it and gave it an experimental tug. Even just a minor jostling of the tender area sent a twinge of pain into his circuits, and made him growl softly around the human. 

Will felt a shiver run down his spine at the sound—or perhaps it was the sound itself that vibrated through his bones. 

“ Looks like a piece of… I dunno, rib? I’m gonna pull on it; I’d appreciate it if you didn’t bite my arm off. ” 

Setback hummed in response and locked his jaw in place. While he did trust his own conscious control, it didn’t hurt to add the extra safety measure for Will’s sake. Will pulled himself almost fully into the mech’s mouth, gripped onto the debris with both hands, and planted a boot against the hard palate for extra leverage. He gave a short countdown so Setback could brace himself––not that he’d thank him for such a courtesy––and gave a hard yank. The debris didn’t come free immediately. Will had to twist and wiggle and shake it, loosening it from between Setback’s teeth. The growling gradually grew louder, more intense, until it ended in a sharp grunt right in time with Will falling backwards on his tongue, the dislodged remains clutched in his hands. Setback closed his eyes for a moment and allowed himself a sigh. The mechanisms in his jaw groaned as the strain against the locked joint eased. 

Will gave the slick, metal tongue beneath him a pat.  “ There ya go, big guy. Feel better? ”  He tossed the offending bone out, but made no moves yet to remove himself from Setback’s mouth. Instead, his attention returned to the teeth between which the bone was stuck.  “ Doesn’t still hurt, does it? ”  With hands much more tender, he rubbed along the sockets the teeth settled in—gums? They’d be gums, he supposed, though the words  “ robot gums ” sounded strange in his mind. 

The touch was not pleasant. The first rub agitated the soreness, and the second did so only marginally less. After the third rub, Setback growled a noise of protest. His tongue bucked under the human, pushing him up and towards his mouth opening, but Will blocked himself in, a hand and foot braced against the back of an upper and lower incisor.

“ Wait—hold on. ”  

“ Hnn? Uah? ” 

All of these new sights and sounds had Will so curious, so fascinated. Surely there could be no downside to knowing more of the anatomical workings of his Cybertronian companion. 

“ Let me look around a bit more. This is all new territory. ”  

Setback made a disapproving sound and gave Will another nudge, but the human kept himself stuck. 

“ C’mon! You already let me explore all over your outside. I wanna check your cool-ass teeth out some more. ”  Though he knew Setback couldn’t see him, he still made a puppy dog face—the same one he’d make whenever he sought the mech’s reluctant cooperation.  “ Think of it as me learning more about you so I’ll be able to help more in the future. Or you could think of this as an exercise in how to be careful with me. ”

Setback rolled his eyes. He was careful with Will. He even had half a mind to argue—if his mouth weren’t currently full—that Will had admonished him for being too cautious with him on multiple occasions. 

However, despite Setback’s reservations, and his suspicion that Will was just looking for excuses to continue his exploration, he found some merit in said excuses. With a heavy sigh, both reluctant and exasperated, the mech relaxed his tongue under Will. He could have his fun, if only for a little bit. 

Will wasted no time. He laid back on the tongue and put both hands to the roof of Setback’s mouth. The fluid coating the mouth interior was slick to the touch, and made everything slippery. His hands glided along the palate in vague circular motions, feeling over the smooth metal. They then drifted back to the gums, this time on the opposite side from the sore spot, and traced the seams along the teeth. Fingers followed the seam from molars to incisors, and back to Setback’s upper left canine. To put things simply, it was a big fucking canine. Will estimated that it must have been six or seven inches long. He tested the tip’s sharpness on the heel of his hand, then did the same with the cusps on a molar. 

“ Why do you have such big teeth? ” 

The tongue shifted under him. Setback hummed, but, with Will occupying his mouth, he couldn’t offer anything of any coherence. 

Looking to the outside, Will found amusement in how the teeth resembled stalactites and stalagmites, how it looked and felt sort of like he was spelunking in a cave. In a way, he sort of was. He twisted himself so he was back on his stomach, unbothered by the slime coating his clothing and skin, and crawled his way further into the slick cavern. 

Setback was finding it bizarre, to say the least, to have Will––or anyone, really––rummaging around in his mouth. The taste was inoffensive, but the feeling was strange. It took a good bit of willpower not to shudder at the sensation of those little hands poking and prodding and rubbing around in there. 

It also brought him some level of mental discordance. Most things that went in his mouth were either fuel or foes. Will was neither. Will was… a friend. Will was his only friend in this damned solar system.

And his friend was in his mouth, arguably in a very dangerous place. Yet, he was perfectly safe. That much Setback would ensure. He would not harm this human. 

“ What would happen if you swallowed me? ” 

Setback blinked.  “ …huh? ”  

Will gave his tongue a final pat, then pushed his way out of the mech’s mouth feet-first, right into his awaiting hands. He wore a pleased grin on his face as he shook his arms free of some of the goop.

“ I think I could fit. Where’s your fuel go when you drink? You’ve got some sort of stomach-thing, right? Or tank? ”

Now that he was free to do so, Setback unlocked his jaw and flexed it, working out the stiffness. The absurdity of the question was starting to sink in, slowly but surely. 

“ I have a tank, yes…. Multiple tanks where energon is stored until it can be pumped where it is needed. ”  Setback regarded the human with a dubious look. He did not like this line of questioning.  “ Before you ask: no. I will not swallow you. ”  

“ You say that now. ”  Will’s grin took a turn for the smug. 

“ I do say that now, ”  Setback said. He scowled down at Will.  “ I think we’re done here. ”  Will started to protest, but Setback took a knee and lowered his hands to deposit him on the floor. Then came the pouting. 

“ You’re welcome, ”  he said. His indignation was light, but present. Setback rolled his eyes. 

“ Thank you, William. ”  He placed the tip of his index finger to the human’s chest and gave him a gentle shove, pushing him a step back.  “ Go clean yourself off. ”

“ What if you just close your mouth with me in there? ” 

“ William–– ” 

“ What if I say  ‘ pretty please ’  ? ” 

“ Go. ”

#tf #doom #g/t #g/t writing #g/t fiction #g/t tf #g/t doom #setback #doom slayer #hyena writes #hyena ocs

[taste-in-music]

My Favorite Hit Songs of 2019

This year’s crop of popular music was... absolutely bonkers? I mean, this year we had Billie Eilish crash into the mainstream, Lizzo managed to get multiple hits out of songs she released nearly three years ago, the Jonas Brothers made a comeback, and the longest-running #1 hit in Billboard history became a rap/country crossover that got its start on Tik Tok made by a complete nobody and the dad from Hannah Montana. I’m going to admit, this list was pretty hard to put together, as I found it hard to find 10 songs that I genuinely loved that were hits this year. Despite that, the sheer absurdity of this year’s popular music gave me a spark of hope going into the new decade. For this list, I’ll be selecting my favorite songs off of Billboard’s year end Hot 100 songs list. I’m ready to recount this year in music, so...

10) Sucker by Jonas Brothers I never watched the Jonas Brothers show or listened to their music back when they were big on Disney, so I’ve got no nostalgic investment in them. However, this was a fun comeback to watch play out. This song was pretty dang good for a while, with the funky guitars and the instantly catchy lyrics. It reminded me of “Feel It Still” by Portugal. The Man. Then it got the point where three separate radio stations were playing it at the same time, and now I can barely stand it. I think that after the radio releases this song from its clutches it will warm up on me again though, because I do like it overall.

9) Better by Khalid The strongest attribute of this song is its ATMOSPHERE. The beat, melody, and vocal delivery all compliment one another perfectly, combining to create a smooth, almost sexy sound that washes over you with ever listen. I also like the Daft-Punk-y vocoded lines that pop in at the end, they’re so unexpected and yet they fit in perfectly. I've always loved Khalid’s vocal timbre, it’s so chill and yet warm at the same time. The only thing I can’t praise about this is the lyrics, because I have no clue what they are. Khalid, bless his sweet soul, cannot enunciate. It’s the same problem I have with Ariana Grande. I love your voice, I want to know what you’re saying! 

8) Trampoline by SHAED Give me the hipster points, because guess who knew about this song before it was cool! I’ve loved SHAED’s music for some time now, so it’s been thrilling to watch this song climb the charts and for them to get the recognition and success that they deserve. While this song isn’t my favorite by them, (that slot would probably be reserved for “Perfume” or “Melt,”) it does showcase the group’s strengths, which are emotive vocals and glossy electronic production. I love the effervescent backing vocals and bubbling keys that pepper this song, it gives the song a floaty feel while still keeping it tense. 

7) Old Town Road by Lil Nas X ft. Billy Ray Cyrus I can’t think of a piece of music in recent memory that has captured the public’s attention so swiftly and so completely, and you know what? Sometimes something gets big because it’s good. This song, despite all the memes and jokes and radio play and oversaturation, never ever got old to me. Every time it comes on, it puts a giant, goofy smile on my face, and I sing along to the whole thing. I want Lil Nas X to stick around, but even if he doesn’t, I want what this song represents, genre blending, trend-bucking, and a sense of fuck-it fun, to stay.

6) bury a friend by Billie Eilish Out of all the strange hits we had this year, this was the weirdest one to hear on the radio. It doesn’t have a classic structure! It’s about the monster under your bed! It’s got nothing but a shuffle beat, bass, and the sound of dental drill! It just doesn’t belong on the airwaves next to songs like “ME!” or “I Don’t Care.” Despite that, I’m beyond happy that Billie Eilish is bringing a bit of emo weirdness to the mainstream, because if the success of her music, specifically this song, says anything, it’s that pop is heading in a far scarier and more experimental direction. And I’m on board with that. 

5) break up with your girfriend, i’m bored by Ariana Grande The groove on this song is fantastic. The combination of eerie synths, bass, reverbed backing vocals, and rolling snares makes it feel tight and controlled, but also loose and flowing at the same time. There was a lot of pushback against this song due the sentiment of the lyrics, but it’s not like Ariana is unaware that she’s the bad guy in this position. There’s enough indifference and sarcasm in her delivery to show that she’s self aware. This was probably my favorite out of the hit singles from the thank u, next era, (”thank u, next” is great but got a bit old to me, and I don’t care for “7 Rings.”) 

4) Circles by Post Malone  This is embarrassing to admit, because I rarely, if ever, enjoyed any music Post Malone has put out in the past. But this song just hits different. The instrumental feels more acoustic-driven and has a nice pulse to it, projecting a warmth and comfort that none of his other songs have. This was a perfect hit for Autumn, being chill and relaxing enough for Summer, but the underlying bass groove makes you want to move into the productive patterns of the school year. If Post Malone made more music like this I’d reckon I’d enjoy his music quite a bit. 

3) Dancing With A Stranger by Sam Smith ft. Normani Sometimes radio filler turns out to be spectacular. The ambiance this track builds is relaxing but in an otherworldly kind of way, forming a soundscape of echoing drums and whispering synths. I’ve always stood by the opinion that Sam Smith sounds really good with an electronic beat under them, it helps their great voice move in a more free-flowing way. Normani also sounds amazing on this song, her vocals dipping into smokier territory, and when the two sing together they play off one another’s performances with ease. 

2) Sweet But Psycho by Ava Max Who predicted this in their last year’s hit song’s list? This bitch! I was so happy to see this hit the U.S. charts, you have no idea. It was such a breath of fresh air in that it was so splashy, sugar-sweet, and unabashedly pop. The lyrics are some of the silliest of the whole year, (”she’s poison but tasty” makes me chuckle every time,) but it doesn’t matter. The addictive melodies and the earnestness in Ava Max’s performance make them sound like Shakespearean poetry, or at least like she believes that they’re Shakespearean poetry. 

Should Have Been Hits

Cruel Summer by Taylor Swift This should’ve been a single. I get why Taylor chose the singles she did, but this was primed to be a Summer smash, with the glossy synths and vocoded backing vocals and soaring chorus. We were robbed. Robbed, I tell you!

Graveyard by Halsey While “Without Me” got all the glory, this is my favorite of all the Halsey singles we’ve gotten so far by a wide margin. It’s the only one that I’ve made the conscious choice to listen to on my own time for one. I love the way the production rushes as the chorus hits, and the synths that sparkle throughout the verses, and Halsey’s reserved performance.

3 Nights by Dominic Fike This was a hit in the U.K., and I even heard it on a few alternative stations, so why no cross over? If there was any song that should have been the chill Summer hip hop hit, it should have been this. This song is weirdly addictive, the chorus is so inexplicably catchy that once you hear it one time through you will know all the words to it. 

Blame It On Your Love by Charli XCX ft. Lizzo When the mainstream decide that it didn’t need Charli XCX? Because it’s wrong, it needs her very, very badly. The success of “1999″ in the U.K., the name recognition, and the Lizzo feature should’ve been more than enough to boost this onto the charts, but I guess we didn’t want an instantly catchy and fun EDM pop song on the radio. Oh well. 

Motivation by Normani Normani and Lauren are my favorite Fifth Harmony members, so I’ve been rooting for their solo careers like nobody’s business. This single in particular had so much potential: a bouncy beat, a stamp of approval from Ariana Grande, and a kick-ass music video filled with impressive choreography. I hope this gets a bigger push into next year, because Normani is a wildly talented performer that deserves success outside of her collaborations. 

Guilty Pleasures

bad guy by Billie Eilish This was a good song, just not my favorite off the album, or of the hits, (I prefer ”bury a friend,” obviously, and “when the party’s over,” which made last year’s list.) Still, watching this idiosyncratic little tune become one of the biggest pop smashes of the year was enthralling. Like “bury a friend,” it was so strange to hear this on the radio. 

Close To Me by Ellie Goulding ft. Diplo & Swae Lee When a melody gets its claws in me, there’s nothing I can do about it. This is not Ellie Goulding at her best, (I’ll admit that I miss the days of “Lights,”) but the way she delivers the hook on this song is absolutely infectious. I’m not the biggest Swae Lee fan, but he’s fine here too. I never minded when this song came on the radio. 

This year was a bit of a roller coaster for me. Needless to say, there were several instances where I felt quite a bit of stress and insecurity, and oftentimes, I would turn to music to make myself feel better. There was one song in particular that a friend of mine, @hasanminajs​, introduced me to, that instantly became a beacon of self-appreciation and enjoyment to me throughout the year. And when I tell you that I have never been happier to hear a song on the radio than I have with this one, I'm telling the truth. 

1) Truth Hurts by Lizzo I have never rooted for a song’s success like I have for this one, and watching a hip hop track this bouncy, confident, and enigmatic climb the charts was an absolute joy. There are so many great punchlines in this song, from “why men great till they gotta be great?” to “I don’t play tag bitch, I’ve been it,” to the ever-iconic “I just took a DNA test, turns out, I’m 100% that bitch.” This song raised the standards for lyricism in the mainstream. I want Lizzo to be huge, I want her to be influential, I want her to be one of the biggest pop stars of the next decade if not longer. Everything about this song, from its production to its message to its performance makes me smile. And you know what? Sometimes that’s all that pop music needs to do. 

Do you agree with this list? What were your favorite hit songs of 2019? Leave a comment and let me know!

#music #taste-in-music top ten #jonas brothers #khalid #SHAED #lil nas x #billy ray cyrus #billie eilish #ariana grande #post malone #sam smith #normani #ava max #taylor swift #halsey #dominic fike #charli xcx #lizzo #ellie goulding #diplo #swae lee #taste in music #taste in music 2019 faves

[tempestaurora]

Also! As you're studying creative and professional writing: do you have any writing advice? Anything you picked up along the way that's incredibly helpful with your original fiction and fanfic?

alright, i’m gonna try and culminate the last three years of my degree into the most helpful advice i received that i can remember and it might be completely useless to you all but who cares:

adverbs are the enemy. if you can say she smiled prettily you can sure as hell take another four words to describe what was pretty about her smile instead. (if you gotta keep 1 or 2 adverbs in, fine, but purge the rest.)

kill your darlings is usually relevant but only because that one sentence you love so much is usually only loved because it doesn’t actually fit in with everything else. if your darling fits and works, don’t go killing it - raise everything surrounding it to that standard.

when posting articles/content online (especially on websites like medium), post towards the back end of the week, in the second half of the day. wednesday and thursday are the best ones for it. the algorithms of medium and other websites will make sure the article ends up trickling into friday, when bored employees go online during their breaks, and if enough of them read it, it’ll be especially popular over the weekend. (case in point, i did exactly this for this essay on depression.)

be warned though, popularity can be down to your tagging system, your title, any featured image and subtitle. just because you post at the exact right time doesn’t mean you’ll get the reads. here’s a masterlist of free stock images you can use, just because i’m nice.

read everything you can

read where we came from as much as new books. i don’t like classics but even i have to admit that reading ray bradbury can provide important and helpful tips and tricks, as much as reading the hunger games can.

try as many genres as you can, but if you know what genre you want to write in, focus your energy on that. a teacher of mine once said that he regrets dividing his energy between literary fiction and horror. he reads and writes both, but because he spent his time split, he never mastered either of them. if he had focused on one over the other, his talents with it would be much more than they are. (though, note, if you want to focus on multiple genres, do it anyway. i can’t decide between sci fi and fantasy, so i’m willing to master neither so i can enjoy them both.)

write everyday if possible. my teachers all recommend morning pages - you write a page in the morning before you get up and leave. do it during breakfast or when you’re still in bed. it can be about anything - word association, prose, poetry, whatever. it also does not have to be good. here’s a good book we were recommended on the subject if you want help with this.

for fan fic specifically: write in third person. unless you’ve got something super Artsy and Forward Thinking going on, your readers will only find themselves uncomfortable with first person, as we’re already trained to consider these characters as outside ourselves. putting first person in makes us the same person as the character, and whether readers are aware of it or not, that’s not the experience they came to fan fic for.

try to observe the trends of fan fiction when you can. i did this when i wrote for the 100 (i noticed that more people wrote during the hiatus between seasons, but more people were reading during the season airing and immediately after it finished) - you’ll find you’ll get more reads than you expect.

on tagging, just because it’s relevant to me: tag however you want on ao3, but tumblr only pays attention to the first 5, so make them the most important ones that are most likely to be read. from 6 onwards, tumblr won’t put your post in that listing when searched, so don’t bother.

don’t make the same mistakes i did with the prose around dialogue. it’s not:

“Hey there,” Jackson said. Emily smiled.

“Hey!”

as soon as your prose stops relating to the dialogue and jackson, you gotta start a new paragraph. even if you’re going into exposition or description - it doesn’t belong on the same line as the dialogue and it’ll start confusing the reader. especially when you stop saying things like “jackson said” and the reader starts attributing the dialogue to incorrect characters. try:

“Hey there,” Jackson said.

Emily smiled. “Hey!”

be as economical in your writing as possible. seriously. i love purple prose but we don’t need it everywhere. sometimes the reader just needs the facts and not three paragraphs of adjacent information. (sometimes, however, the reader wants that information, so it’s about being economical with how often you’re economical.)

for correct formatting for scripts, use the BBC writer’s room. they also have contests and open submissions. very occasionally, the people who submit can get hired to the BBC.

let yourself be shit at writing. it’s nothing to be ashamed of.

Reading List:

here’s the best books i can offer you for writing. some may be helpful, some not so much for you - but these are the books my teachers recommended and i connected with.

The Writer’s Journey, Christopher Vogler is a staple, okay? it was the first book we were told to buy, because it breaks apart a story into so many pieces and shows you how they’re to be employed. it’s not an enjoyable read, but it’s a really good place to be starting from.

The Elements of Style, Strunk and White. Another staple. Very short and apparently, very important.

if you want help with novel writing, Thomas Emson’s How To Write a Novel in Six Months is my go-to. he came in and delivered a lecture, the book takes only 40 minutes to read, and it comes with a lot of great advice you can pick and choose from. i reference him every time y’all ask for writing advice and it’s because the things i took from his book are the most helpful to my process.

Stephen King’s On Writing is pretty good. I was bored as heck through the first half, where he writes his life story, but the second half is all writing advice and super helpful.

as mentioned in the morning pages point: The Artist’s Way, Julia Cameron.

The Definitive Guide to Screenwriting, Syd Field.

The Ode Less Travelled, Stephen Fry. if you’re interested in writing poetry, this is a very good one to use.

On Writing Well, William Zinsser. if you want to write non-fiction, this is the one for you. get the most recent edition you can, the edits are worth it. (for example, zinsser originally wrote ‘he’ when talking of the writer, and eventually changed to ‘they’ and ‘he or she’, because he learned feminism lmao.)

my playwriting teacher recommends The Art of Writing Drama, Michelene Wandor which i haven’t actually read yet but i plan to.

Heussner, Tobias, et al. The Game Narrative Toolbox is good (though a lil expensive) for when it comes to writing for games.

so is Rusch, Doris C. Making Deep Games: Designing Games with Meaning and Purpose, but again, recommended for games.

sources: i’m a third year creative and professional writing undergrad, taught by professional writers in fiction, experimental literature, poetry, non-fiction, playwriting, young adult and children’s literature and game design. 

#writing #writing advice #writing tips #spilled ink #writers #bethany talks #i hope this helps #its not everything i've learned but its the first things i could think of #there are a lot of brainstorm things i remembered #and different ways of writing and how to use music to inspire work and all that jazz #which could be an entirely different post honestly #but this is just what i could narrow down without much effort #the reading list took longer than everything else in this entire post #because i care about being thorough

[godkilller]

unprompted ask.      //      thank you!

          Gin would’ve found ease in blatantly admitting his general dislike for the Gotei 13′s many soldiers------in him slumbered a cold indifference, observed and learned via Aizen, to the overall structure of the Seireitei, its plentiful pieces presenting themselves as... rather lackluster when all was said and done. Ultimately, it was Shinigami ranked among the Gotei 13 who hurt dozens of spiritual-pressure bearing children throughout the Rukongai, and ultimately it was those very same Shinigami, the saviors from Soul Society, who plagued upon Rangiku’s soul. Ultimately, it was by Yamamoto Genryusai’s failure that monsters such as Urahara Kisuke, Aizen Sousuke, succeeded in their experimentations of Shinigami limitation wearing the very robes that were supposed to symbolize protectors. Gin knew his hatred was secretly childish, basic, but then again the blame----the responsibility to keep innocent souls safe----simply fell upon the grand commander and his many captains at his disposal at the time. Every single acting captain, lieutenant, and ranking soldier seated below ALL SWORE TO KEEP THOSE CHILDREN SAFE. What a load of bullshit!

       WHERE WERE THEY WHEN SHE WAS ATTACKED?

          Vehemently wishing the entire Gotei 13′s demise was far too much to dare imagine, and Gin found himself instead bitterly dismissive of their plights as an alternative. If Aizen so happened to kill a few of those less-recent additions to the Gotei 13 during his assault on Karakura Town? Gin wouldn’t have any complaints, especially if he managed to take out the old man himself... Soul Society could use a refresher from the outdated mind of a withering body. Maybe then the new generation of leadership could, possibly, spot a god damn traitor in the ranks before he could make a bunch of children his test subjects.

          At least Gin got to kill a few stiff and misguided Central 46 judges on his way out.

          ❝ There’s a whooooole lista things that’re bad about Soul Society. It’s never jus’ been about purifyin’ souls, leadin’ them to the light... gettin’ rid of a few Hollow here’n there. The things I’ve been told? Alllll those lil secrets shoved under the rug? At this rate... the entire thing oughtta get reset. ❞

          But despite his blame set upon the Gotei’s shoulders, Gin still could enjoy the company of a select few--------before his official betrayal, at least. He knew not all of the apples were bad, necessarily. Just loyal to the wrong thing... and he could say that because he had misplaced loyalties, too. For even the traitor deep down RESPECTED AIZEN, the culprit he currently placed his reasons for disrespect upon the Gotei 13 of old for being unable to stop. That was a complication, a labyrinth of emotions and connections, groomed into place for decades as he fused his mask to skin, and Gin could never delve into, explain, let alone merely acknowledge out loud the strength of that despicable respect...

          Listing off a few old comrades would do for now.

         ❝ I used to like cap’n Komamura, always thought he was awfully devoted ‘n kind, cared about his subordinates the most and never stood back ‘n watched if somebody ever needed help. He didn’t talk to me much, though----I figure he was shy or jus’ didn’t like me, which’s fair and why I respect’im even more if I gotta be honest... and Ukitake’s always been one, I don’t think anybody’ll ever tell ya differently. Even though he treated me like a kid back then---technically I was one----so it wasn’t wrong or anythin’. Maybe it’s ‘cause he didn’t talk down to me at all, he was fair’n gentle. He’s always been wise, too. Unohana’s high up there obviously, it takes a lotta guts to take care of a buncha dumbasses without losin’ your cool on a daily basis----I don’t think I’ve ever met anybody else as patient as her. Plus... soooomethin’ tells me she ain’t got that blood smell only ‘cause of her work. Take it from somebody who projects killin’ intent pretty often: I think she’s hidin’ somethin’ awfully dark, which’s all the more reason to respect her. Scaaary~! And then Izuru’s of course on my list, I reckon he’s gonna make a real good captain one day, I hope----once he gets past his fears’n discomforts, he’ll be unstoppable. For now? He’s always been an overly dedicated person, an excellent subordinate, ‘n a great friend----...to whoever he’s friendly with nowadays. As for the rest of’em all? I ain’t that interested. ❞ 

#verse: undetermined. #:^) #i had gin answer this for once!! instead of just making it indirect or a hc post etc. etc. #so that means: vagueness and a wholly incomplete list. #because off the top of gin's head these are the people that stand out. #there could be others! but he doesn't care about them until they're presented to him via topic or. in front of him. #he's spent so long adhering to aizen's policy of indifference that it's hard to switch back and forth from that. #the mindset of uncaring. #the distancing of oneself from deeper relationships / friendships. #the respect gin holds for these people cannot be equated to respect given by others. #he doesn't hold that kind of thing the same way. #if push came to shove he'd oppose these people (maybe less so willingly vs izuru) and he'd perform as necessary to fight them etc. #but he definitely cares about them beyond cold numbness. #he thinks they're the better ones among the gotei 13. #gin's main theme of valuing someone else is whether or not they're loyal and dedicated to their personal goals and to protecting others. #he sees that as perhaps one of the highest virtues. #selflessness to stand opposite of aizen's self-absorption.

[your-iron-lung]

The Unsolved Chapter

aka, the crossover absolutely no one asked for; also available to read on AO3 

Story Synopsis:  While investigating what remains of the infamous Léry’s Memorial Institute for their popular channel, two Youtube celebrity ghost hunters go missing overnight, vanishing in a freak occurrence that has decided to lay claim to their souls.

While the world they were abruptly taken from grieves their absences and tries to figure out what befell the beloved comical duo, Ryan and Shane struggle to make sense of the new, terrible and violent reality they've woken up in. Drawn to a campfire that never seems to burn out, they meet others who have been condemned to the same, eternal fate and are forcibly taught how to survive in an attempt to keep their collective hope and souls alive.

Part 1 of 5

Chapter Word Count: 6031

Pairings: None; just a genfic

Genre: Survival Horror/Supernatural/Angst-y

Next Chapter: Part Two

Notes: uhh yep, here it is, a buzzfeed unsolved/dead by daylight crossover fic bc once i started to think about it, i couldnt stop. there will be temporary character death, lil bits of gore, and a fair amount of blood and violence in the story, just not in this installment. careful if you click the embedded link, as it might be loud

---------

‘Sometimes human places, create inhuman monsters.’ Stephen King, The Shining

1

Léry’s Memorial Institute was probably the filthiest building Shane had ever stepped foot in, which, when you took into account just how many foul, decrepit locations he’d been to in the past, was really saying something. The building itself was beautiful in its own haunting way, as most older buildings often were, but Léry’s took the definition of ruined to a new extreme he’d yet to see before now. It was an architectural thing of beauty to be sure, but the grit and grime that covered the entirety of the stonework did manage to dampen his enthusiasm for exploring the dilapidated structure.

And he had been excited for it, originally; a chance to fly back to Illinois to shoot the season finale of Unsolved on his home turf had been generally appealing, even if he hadn’t heard of Michaelstown or Léry’s before. But then they’d all gotten their first look at the Institute, looming horribly tall over the long horizon of pines as they drove up to it from the bumpy dirt road, and he felt all his excitement leave his body in an instant, evaporating like a cold drop of water on hot asphalt.

The silhouette had been menacing and boxy, regal in an old fashioned way that modern constructions had abandoned in favor of more modern designs. It was, perhaps, one of the most imposing feats of architecture he’d ever laid eyes on; it certainly ranked up there with Waverly in his mind, and perhaps that was why he felt so inexplicably nervous as he’d looked at it. Rather than dwell on it, he compartmentalized his anxiety away in his brain and turned to make a comment about how spooky the hospital was to Ryan, but whatever effects looking at the building had had on him appeared to have hit his co-host three times as hard; Ryan’s brain already looked like it was melting, an expression of mute terror written plainly across his face.

Shane couldn’t fault him for that, considering his own momentary scare, and was actually grateful for his silence. If Ryan had pressed him for a comment on whether or not he thought Léry’s was haunted in that moment, then Shane might’ve reluctantly admitted that, in the event that ghosts were real, he wouldn’t be surprised to find a few here, but Ryan had been too horror-stricken to ask. In all actuality, no one on the team had been up for much conversation after that first initial glimpse, an uneasy vibe settling into all of them as they parked. They had all taken a moment to appreciate how terribly ominous it looked against the backdrop of a sunset red sky before TJ ushered them into their usual business routine, unpacking their equipment and getting their bodycams set up.

“Man, I feel like Jack Torrance walking into the Overlook here. This building feels downright predatory, man,” Ryan said, voice already shaking with nervousness.

Evening was falling fast upon them as they shuffled around in the entrance hall, carefully avoiding the large panes of broken glass and other debris that littered the floor. The layer of dust on the ground was so thick, distinct footprints could be seen as clear as though they’d been walking through snow, their tracks leading around in circles as they got their first look at the interior.

Shane hummed a noncommittal response as he shined his camera light around, disgusted by the amount of dust on the floor and in the air; if he were an asthmatic, he’d probably have run through several inhalers just from walking in.

“So tell me what I’m looking at here, Ryan; what’s the history behind this magnificent pile of rubble?” Shane asked as he nudged a thick piece of wood with the toe of his boot.

They would cover most of the history of Léry’s Memorial Institute in the voice over, but that wouldn’t be done until they got back to California and Ryan had yet to tell him much about the place. Keeping Shane in the dark about the past of some the places they went to was a good way to get genuine reactions out of him, but he felt that if they didn’t start bantering soon then Ryan would lose whatever was left of his poor, impressionable mind.

“I feel really weird,” Ryan said instead of answering, glancing around the area with wide, uncertain eyes. “There’s like, some kind of an energy in the air in here; do you feel it?”

“No,” Shane replied calmly, though that wasn’t entirely true. He could feel something akin to static in the air around them, but he didn’t register that as a supernatural phenomenon. The air felt charged in a way that reminded him more of an impending thunderstorm getting ready to unburden itself than it did of something unearthly. “It is a little chilly, though; probably should’ve worn more layers.”

“Good Christ, I hate it here already.” Ryan shuddered and rubbed at one of his arms as he turned to look down the dark hallway that lead further in. “Right, so. Léry’s. I couldn’t find any information on who the original owners were, or who built it, but I did find out that the original building was built sometime in the 1800’s.”

“This isn’t the original?”

Ryan shook his head and reluctantly took the lead in guiding them down the long, narrow hallway, adjusting the straps of his bodycam rig subconsciously as he went.

“Well, yes and no,” he said, stopping every few steps to shine his light and camera into any rooms they happened to pass. “The original building was just a really big mansion the owners lived in before they donated their land to the government; all this hospital space was added onto it during the Korean War to help rehab returning vets.”

“This is one hell of a remodeling job; the Property Brothers would be proud with how many square feet they managed to pump into this thing,” Shane remarked, grinning a little when Ryan let out a slight laugh. “So, army hospital?”

“Yep, up until the CIA took possession of it in the 60’s, and that’s where all my research brought me to dead ends. I couldn’t find what they wanted it for or what they did with it after they got it, but boy, the conspiracy theories run wild with this one.” He turned to flash Shane a conspiratory grin.

“Are you gonna use the voice on me?” Shane asked with a roll of his eyes. “Don’t lay it on too thick now; save some for the voice over.”

“Some say that the CIA turned Léry’s into a black site in order to perfect ‘information gathering’ techniques they’d wanted to put into practice during the war,” Ryan began, easily slipping into the professional tone of voice he used for narrations. The familiarity with which he spoke seemed to restore some of his confidence as they continued down the hall, as he no longer seemed to shrink away from the darkness surrounding them. “They reportedly hired a large number of staff to run the medical facility, but no records of anyone working here exist- at least to the public-, though there are rumors of one particular doctor who was well known for his sadistic use of electro-convulsive shock ‘treatments’.”

“Torture, you mean,” Shane said, shining his light into a room of indeterminate purpose. Ahead of him, Ryan nodded in affirmation. “Great, a secret torture hospital. I’m sure you’ll get a lot of angry, resentful ghosts to talk to here.”

Ignoring his comment, Ryan continued his monologue, clearly having spent time rehearsing it. “Supposedly. As the rumors go, they began implementing experimental interrogation methods on American citizens first before moving on to actual spies, and oh- oh my god, that’s a fucking big rat,” Ryan sputtered, his Unsolved voice breaking as he skipped back down the hall and almost knocked into Shane, who barely managed to sidestep his panicked retreat.

He couldn’t help but chuckle a bit as he put an arm to Ryan’s shoulder to steady him before stepping ahead of him, shining his camera light into what looked to be a large reception area. It was wide and spacious, full of dark corners with plenty of dust and run down furniture covered in graffiti. The rat Ryan had stumbled upon was underneath one of the waiting room benches, turned over on its side and very clearly dead, though it was exceptionally large.

They stared at it together contemplatively for a moment before Shane said, “I gotta tell you, Ry, that I am not at all thrilled about spending the night here. I think I might ask my mom to call your mom to tell you I can’t come to your little sleepover.”

From behind, they could hear Mark laugh before stepping into the room, aiming the lens of his camera at the rat for a dramatic close-up they could potentially use to promote the episode.

“That’s disgusting, don’t film that,” Devon said, clicking her tongue in disapproval as she placed her hand in front of the camera lens until Mark lowered it off his shoulder. “This place is foul; I can’t say I envy you boys for staying here one bit.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Ryan muttered. “Hell, I might cancel the sleepover myself, no moms involved.”

“You can’t, you already walked out of one overnight this season,” TJ cut in, to which Ryan responded with a quietly spoken ‘fuck’ under his breath. “Let’s just start filming, yeah? The sooner we get this done, the sooner morning will come, the sooner you can leave. Now, where do you think you’re gonna want the static cams set up?” TJ asked as Mark held up the bags he’d carried in with them.

2

Against Devon’s wishes, they decided to film the intro for the episode in the lobby with the dead rat, the compromise being that Shane and Ryan had to sit on opposite sides of the hallway that lead back the way they’d come so that the rodent’s body wouldn’t make it into the final shot. This was agreeable to all of them, but as Shane sat there, waiting for the camera to start rolling, he couldn’t keep his eyes from wandering back to its corpse occasionally, trying to deduce what it could have died from.

They tried to film with what little natural light they had left, but the sun had already been sinking when they’d arrived. Whatever light it managed to provide ended up fading away too fast for them to effectively use, eventually prompting TJ to insist on bringing in big, bright lights so they weren’t stuck filming in the dark. As Shane squinted into the newfound light source, his eyes adjusting poorly to the brightness, he managed to get a better look at the room they were set up in.

Based on his own opinion and how little he actually knew about Léry’s, it certainly didn’t look like the kind of place run by a malicious, CIA sanctioned group of sadists; to him, it looked like a hospital, plain and simple. The white paint along the walls was cracked and peeling, revealing discoloured splotches of drywall that furthered the eerie, run-down atmosphere the building had as a whole. Regardless of that and the dead rat, there was nothing in the general vicinity that implied Léry’s might have been used for something as sinister as torture- they even had what looked to be remnants of vintage motivational posters decaying behind the reception desk. Despite how foreboding the building had looked from the outside, inside it both looked and felt normal, which made him wonder again about where his original discomfort upon viewing the building might have derived from.

“This week on the season finale of Buzzfeed Unsolved: Supernatural, we’re investigating Léry’s Memorial Institute in Michaelstown, Illinois as a part of our ongoing investigation into the question, are ghosts real?”

Hearing Ryan’s voice pulled him from his thoughts. Unaware that they’d begun the segment, Shane turned to look at the camera Mark was holding and shook his head curtly on cue. The motion was well-practiced and concise, even if he was still squinting because of the lights.

He waited patiently as Ryan spoke of what he knew about Léry’s alleged history, repeating a lot of what he’d already mentioned to Shane earlier for the official intro. He went more in depth as he talked about the history of the building to the camera than he did with Shane, adding on some embellishments about the various conspiracy theories he’d dug up that involved what the staff at Léry’s might’ve been up to, and none of it sounded good.

“Léry’s was condemned and abandoned in 1983, and was even rumored to have been burnt down, but as you can see, since we are currently sitting inside the building, that clearly isn’t the case,” Ryan recited, shooting Shane a look that invited him in to begin a banter.

“Ryan, I swear to God if you’re trying to tell me that the building itself is a ghost, I will resign.” Shane forced his face into a serious expression that matched his disapproving tone of voice as Ryan laughed loudly. “You can get Brent back to be your new ‘ghoulfriend’ and you can just- the two of you can just run around these spooky places like a couple of headless chickens screaming about ghosts together.”

“No, that’s- that’s not what I’m saying,” Ryan said, a humorous inflection tinging his voice as he spoke. “What I’m saying is, is that someone either lied to cover up any potential future investigations into Léry’s alleged operations, or someone got it wrong; either way, Léry’s is still here.”

“And how’d you come to find that out?” Shane asked, honestly interested in Ryan’s answer. His friend had already admitted that researching the place had been hard and often netted him no real answers; if any and all official documentations surrounding Léry’s said it was no longer standing, then he wondered how Ryan was able to discover that it actually was.

“I looked up the coordinates on Google’s satellite image maps.” Shane raised his eyebrows at that, and Ryan shrugged in response. “There was a building here, and when I compared it to old images of the Memorial Institute I’d found dated pre 1980’s, they seemed to match. When I reached out to the current property owners, they agreed to let us look around as long as we didn’t try to ‘solve’ anything.”

“We never do,” Shane said wistfully, dramatically looking away for a moment, and again Ryan laughed, the sound of it echoing around the walls of the room.

“Alright, whatever, big guy; we can do all the ghost hunting we want, they said, but we have to let the sleeping dogs lie on whether or not Léry’s has a ‘tortured’ past or not; they don’t want any trouble with the government.” Ryan looked amused by his own pun, but Shane knew that his ability to find humour in little things like that wouldn’t last the night.

“Well, let’s get started then, shall we?” Shane said, slapping his hands to his thighs and beginning to feel his eagerness returning to him. He started to stand up, and Ryan sighed.

“Yeah, fuck, let’s- let’s get into it.”

3

“Is there anyone here with us right now?” Ryan spoke loudly and clearly as he addressed the spirit box, glancing around the room they were standing in cautiously as he held the small radio up between them. There was an overturned examination table and some rusted chairs in the room with them that Shane had initially tried to sit in, but found them too unstable to support him. “If there is, we’d really like to talk with you. My name’s Ryan, and my unnecessarily large friend here is Shane; I know he’s a little frightening to look at, but can you say either of our names?”

They waited for a response, Ryan pensively shifting his eyes around as though he might see a ghost hiding behind the old furniture while Shane did his best to not let his boredom show on camera. He waited silently for a moment, letting the spirit box spit out jumbled radio frequencies and broken fragments of words for Ryan to analyze later before deciding to chime in.

“Did you ever stop to think that the spirit box might be triggering these spirits you’re trying to contact?” he asked, voice drawling as he tucked his hands into the pockets of his denim jacket. “If that doctor you mentioned earlier really did exist, then don’t you think it stands to reason that the static from the box might be traumatizing them? Torturing them in their afterlife? Maybe that’s why they don’t want to talk to you.”

“You’re just saying that because it tortures you,” Ryan said, snickering. He opened his mouth to say something else in support of his use of the spirit box, but was hushed when it began to pick up an unusual, garbled sort of noise.

If Shane hadn’t been accustomed to the usual tones of static the spirit box produced as it skipped through radio frequencies, he would have chalked the sound that was coming through the speaker now as typical spirit box sounds, but innately he knew that it wasn’t. Whatever was coming through the radio now was different, in that it had cut through the previous channel of static to effectively broadcast the new sound.

He could tell from the stunned reaction on Ryan’s face that he, too, recognized the sound as something unusual. This wet, static noise that was coming through the receiver had been unheard by either of them before.

Ryan turned his head to look up at Shane, any trace of amusement he’d been displaying before now gone as he struggled to make sense of what he was hearing. Before either of them could properly process what they were listening to, the sound slowly tapered off into silence.

Shane stared at the box in Ryan’s hand, waiting for the usual sounds of static to come back through the speaker so he could explain the phenomenon away as some sort of malfunction. He was preemptively formulating a response to the questions Ryan was sure to start asking when the whispering began.

The voice was low and quiet, possibly male, and managed to speak uninterrupted for more than a few consecutive seconds. Shane felt his skin break out into goosebumps as he listened, leaning forward to try and get a better understanding of what was being said even as Ryan recoiled, almost dropping the spirit box in his fright.

If the voice was whispering in any known language, Shane didn’t recognize it; the words registered as garbled, barely distinguishable nonsense to his ears, but the tone with which it spoke, intent and persistent, had his hair beginning to stand on end. Everyone in the room was hushed, although Ryan was beginning to hyperventilate, his breath coming in fast, wheezing gulps. His hand was visibly trembling, but he resolutely did not drop or set the spirit box down, a small act of bravery Shane admired him for.

They didn’t have long to focus on what the voice was saying before a loud, burst of static tore out of the speaker, ending the strange noises abruptly and causing Ryan to shout in surprise. Shane blinked solemnly at the little box as it returned to flickering through regular radio channels before he met Ryan’s stupefied gaze.

“What the fuck just happened,” Ryan gasped out, quickly turning the box off and setting it aside to deal with his minor anxiety attack.

No one had an immediate answer.

“Did anyone recognize what it was saying?” Devon asked timidly. “Not trying to be an alarmist here, but that… didn’t sound human to me.”

Ryan moaned at the implication and sat down hard on the floor, uncaring of how dirty it was.

“Look, let’s just all calm down and take a minute to think about it logically,” Shane said, attempting to take control of the situation in order to soothe his companion’s panic, but he didn’t feel calm himself. His heart was thudding away rapidly in his chest, though he told himself that it was due in part to being taken off guard by the loud outburst of static that came through at the end of the transmission. “Do you know every earthly language that exists?” he asked Devon, who shook her head reluctantly. He repeated the question to Mark and TJ before directing it to Ryan, and all their answers were the same. “Neither do I; just because it spoke in a language we can’t immediately identify doesn’t mean it wasn’t human. Have we all forgotten we’re in an old, ex-governmental building that was run by the fucking CIA? The box probably just latched onto an old numbers station or something.

“And anyway, I’d expect you to be more excited about this, little guy,” he said gently to Ryan, trying to encourage a positive reaction out of him. “We caught all that on film, buddy.”

From the floor, Ryan had stopped his rapid breathing as he processed Shane’s line of reasoning. He still looked frightened, but his expression also seemed more speculative after listening to Shane deliver his cowboy speech. When Shane reached a hand down to help him up, Ryan took it.

“You’re right. We have evidence,” Ryan said slowly as he rose back to full height, his eyes lighting up as he clasped Shane’s hand tightly to his chest.

Shane winced and tried to pull his hand free, but the clammy grip with which Ryan held to it was strong. “It could be any number of things before it could be ghosts, Ryan, you know that.”

“But if it’s not any of those other things, then it- it’s real! We have actual, recorded evidence! Léry’s Memorial Institute is certified haunted, baby!”

He let go of Shane’s hand at last, his fear momentarily forgotten as he did a quick dance, pumping his fist up and down into the air in a celebratory fashion. Mark trained the camera on him to capture the moment, swapping from Ryan’s joyful expression to Shane’s look of bewildered amusement. Devon looked on with a congratulatory smile until TJ eventually spoke.

“You… do realize you still have to stay the night here, right?” TJ said somberly, knowing that what he had to say would was going to affect Ryan negatively, and already they could all see the impact his words had on him as he stopped dancing. “I’m happy for you and all, but don’t forget we have a whole episode left to shoot.” Fresh horror dawned on Ryan’s face, his excitement over finding proof of the supernatural immediately dying out when he realized it didn’t absolve him from fulfilling the rest of his contractual obligations.

“Oh, fuck, you’re right,” he said with a groan, his shoulders slumping at the remembered thought. He brought his hands to his face and dragged his fingers down, pulling at his skin. “Ohh, fuck, you’re right. Shit.”

“Certified haunted, baby,” Shane teased with a weak grin, knowing already that it was going to be a long, sleepless night for the both of them.

4

They explored the area a little further after the incident with the spirit box, but didn’t manage to capture or illicit any other supernatural responses to their presence, though not for lack of trying. Everywhere they went, Shane demanded that the ghosts repeat the strange audio they’d managed to capture before and called them out on their cowardice when nothing happened. Ryan grew increasingly upset with his behaviour, but Shane was out to prove a point: whatever they’d discovered through the use of the spirit box wasn’t something supernatural, and if the spirits weren’t willing to entertain them, then he wasn’t willing to entertain the notion that it could be ghosts.

The logical part of his brain demanded he debunk it immediately, even if it meant he had to poop all over Ryan’s parade in order to do so, and he planned on taking the mightiest shit he could before they wrapped up filming for the night.

5

Most of the upper floors of Léry’s were condemned and deemed too unsafe for them to explore, barring their ability to scope out the building in its entirety, but the ground floors were plenty big enough to take up hours’ worth of time to investigate.

With Mark and TJ’s help, they set up three static cams where Ryan thought they’d get the most activity: one in the room where they’d gotten the spirit box to communicate with them (with an EVP device they would leave on all night), one in the reception area pointing down the hall they’d entered through, and the final one in a room Ryan had called the ‘treatment theatre’, where they’d decided to bunk down for the night.

It was a circular room with one single, ominous examination table set up in the middle over a system of rusty, grated flooring. A large set-up of outdated lighting systems hung low and broken over it, hanging like an untended widowmaker’s tree waiting to collapse, and for the first time that night Shane wondered if perhaps Ryan’s torture theory might have some truth behind it. Copper stains could be seen leading from the table to the grated floors, and he resolutely decided not to focus on them.

On the floor above them, reached only by a set of stairs set into the back of the room, was a windowed viewing booth that jutted out from the wall. A sense of unease overcame him as Shane looked at it, wondering what the people of the past had need of to stand up there in a room such as this, but he knew in the back of his mind what the answer to that was.

He tried to tuck his discomfort away as he laid out his sleeping bag next to Ryan’s, and wound up unsettling some dust into the air as he smoothed it out and plopped his pillow into place. He grimaced and tried to suppress a cough, but doing so only made the urge to cough worse. Ryan watched him hack whatever he’d inhaled into the crook of his arm, a wry smile of amusement playing at his lips.

“Need some water?” Devon asked, stepping forward with a water bottle already in hand.

Shane took it gratefully and drank until he felt his throat clear up. “Thanks,” he said as he capped it and set the bottle down beside his pillow.

“Should we see you guys out?” Ryan asked as Mark finished adjusting the camera that was set facing their sleeping bags, the red recording light already blinking with purpose.

Mark shrugged as he stood, taking his big shoulder camera back from TJ, who had had been dutifully holding it for him so he didn’t have to set it on the dirty floor.

“Nah, I think we can find our way out on our own,” TJ said as Mark wiped his knees clean of the grime. “I know you’ll probably just bolt if you get anywhere close to the exit anyway, Bergara.”

It was Shane’s turn to smirk as Ryan scowled, knowing that there was definitely some truth in that statement. Ryan had been unusually on edge throughout the rest of their investigation after their incident with the spirit box, and all Shane’s goading had done was make it worse.

“Have a good night, guys,” Devon said, looking uncertain about leaving them alone. She gave a little wave as Mark and TJ each said their goodbyes in turn. “We’ll see you in the morning; be safe, okay?”

“We’ll be fine; what’s the worst that’ll happen? A rat takes a nibble out of one of our ears?” Shane mustered up a smile he hoped looked assuring, but Devon didn’t seem comforted by it.

“The closest hotel we could book is 20 minutes away, but even still, don’t hesitate to call if you need something,” she said, and TJ nodded in affirmation.

“We’ll come as quick as we can,” he said, and Shane wasn’t sure why, but his words left a heavy weight in his stomach.

“Guys, we’ll be fine, this isn’t our first rodeo,” Shane said exasperatedly, and Ryan backed him up with a nod.

“The ghoul boys know how to behave themselves during a spooky sleepover,” he affirmed, but didn’t have the confidence required to back up what he was saying.

Still, Devon looked a little less doubtful and finally relented. She bid them goodnight once more before the three of them took their leave, carrying all the extra equipment Shane and Ryan wouldn’t need away with them to make packing up a little easier in the morning.

None of them knew it would be the last time they ever saw each other.

Shane sat down on his sleeping bag with a slight grunt and listened to their crew’s footsteps receding out of the room and away from them, echoing down the hall ominously. He waited until he couldn’t hear them anymore before he started getting ready for sleep, peeling away the opening of his sleeping bag to tuck his long legs inside.

“And then there were two,” he said rather cheerfully to Ryan as he got comfortable. He was met with a miserable sigh as his co-host begrudgingly slid into his own sleeping bag. He zipped it up promptly and stared up at the ceiling bitterly.

“You say that every time they leave, give it a rest already.”

“But it’s true every time it warrants being said,” Shane replied, drawing his phone out of his pocket and opening up Twitter. “We’re the only two people left in here; anyone else doesn’t exist, and you seem to need reminding of that fairly often.”

Ryan sighed shakily and turned his flashlight off, casting them both into the gloomy darkness, broken only by the glow of Shane’s phone as he scrolled through his social media feed.

6

“Shane? Are you awake? I’m kinda freaking out hardcore over here, buddy.”

It took a moment for Shane to register that he was being spoken to as he blinked the sleep out of his eyes, rolling over in his bag to face where Ryan was laid out. As his vision adjusted to the dark, he could see that Ryan was wide-awake, still staring up at the ceiling where the viewing booth stuck out like a sore thumb.

“What?” Shane asked, his voice heavy and tired, rumbling out of his throat in a low timbre. “Whatsit?”

“I- I can’t sleep,” Ryan admitted, his voice sounding small.

“Surprising absolutely no one,” Shane muttered before yawning loudly and rubbing the crust out of the corners of his eyes; he’d only been just been able to fall asleep before Ryan woke him up.

“Shut up,” Ryan grumbled. “It- I can’t sleep because it feels like- it feels like we’re being watched. I know it’s just the dark, but sometimes I think I can see people up there, looking down at us.”

Shane turned his gaze up to the viewing booth, but couldn’t see anything that looked like what Ryan was worrying about. His eyes did try to force shapes out of the darkness behind the window, but he intrinsically knew that it was just his mind playing tricks on him, trying to get him to see things that weren’t actually there. “There’s no one here but us, Ryan,” he reminded him, turning his attention back to his friend.

“But the voice on the spirit box-”

“-was just a voice,” Shane cut in. “And look, I’ll be honest with you- it was a little jarring, and I’ll admit to being a little unnerved by it myself, if that makes you feel any better.”

“Wh- no! Why would that make me feel better?” Ryan spluttered, finally tearing his eyes away from the booth above them to fix his wide-eyed stare on Shane. “You’re supposed to be my, my grounding rock, my calming spirit; how can you be scared? You’re not allowed to be afraid, I- I’m the one who fears!”

Shane stared at Ryan for one wordless minute before breaking out into a hearty laugh, his voice carrying around the room and making it sound louder than it was.

“Alright, calm down there cowardly Heisenberg; I didn’t say I was scared, just unnerved,” he clarified. His laugh seemed to ease some of Ryan’s worries, as his face cracked into a tentative grin at his words. “It was weird, yes, but nothing else strange happened while we were walking around, did it?”

“No, I guess not,” Ryan admitted, looking a little sheepish now. He contemplated Shane’s words quietly for a moment before he asked, “Do you really think it was just a numbers channel?”

“I think it’s a possibility, yes,” Shane said, picking his words carefully so as not to exacerbate Ryan’s anxieties. He honestly had no idea what it was or what it could be, but he wasn’t anywhere near ready yet to admit that it could’ve had supernatural origins. “We’re in a weird old government hospital; I think the most likely thing to have happened is that our little boxy pal picked up on a weird frequency we weren’t supposed to have access to and gave us a glimpse into something that wasn’t meant for us.”

“Yeah, but, we’re in Illinois,” Ryan began, picking at the zippered hem of his sleeping bag as he put the thoughts he’d been ruminating on into words.

“So? If you’re about to start shit-talking this wholesome state, so help me God, we’re going to have to start exchanging some serious words here.”

“No, that’s not what- Look, Illinois is in America; what possible radio frequency being broadcast here could we have picked up on that doesn’t speak English, or any other spoken American language, or even human?” Ryan asked, gesticulating around them as he spoke.

Shane sighed and rolled onto his back, adjusting his pillow to better support his neck. “You don’t know that it’s not any known human language, Ryan, we established that. It was probably just some kind of a looping cipher the CIA forgot to turn off when they moved out, not some- some demon speaking to us in tongues.”

Beside him, Ryan groaned loudly and quickly withdrew his arms back into his sleeping bag, as though he were afraid that by naming it, one would suddenly appear.

“Please don’t say demon.”

“You just did,” Shane said, unable to keep himself from speaking rather snidely. Ryan shot him a pointed look of annoyance, but he couldn’t help his uncooperative attitude in that moment. He was sleepy, and could feel all the dust they’d been breathing in coagulating deep in his lungs. He was irritated, and he let it show. “Look, Ry, we can discuss this all we want tomorrow, but I am incredibly tired right now. Just… try and get some sleep, okay? We’ll pick this up later.”

“I think we both know that’s not gonna happen,” Ryan muttered, but he mercifully let the issue drop.

Whether or not their conversation had helped or hindered Ryan, Shane couldn’t say. It had been a strange night for both of them, all things considered, and he wanted nothing more than to just be done with it. As he closed his eyes to try and go back to sleep, the last thing Shane would later recall seeing was the darkness taking shape in the form of a face looming behind the window pane of the viewing booth, looking down upon them intently. A strange metallic taste wouldn’t leave his mouth no matter how much water he drank to try and ride himself of it, and although Ryan had forsaken the notion of sleep for himself entirely, he too eventually drifted off unawares.

And that was all it took; by the morning they were gone, taken without a trace, everything they’d brought with them left behind and undisturbed.

#buzzfeed unsolved #ryan bergara #shane madej #dead by daylight #buzzfeed unsolved: supernatural #rpf #supernatural rpf #AND NOW FOR SOMETHING COMPLETELY DIFFERENT #remember when i mentioned id fish-flopped into another fandom? it was unsolved

[timeisacephalopod]

Snapshot

A lil Ned/ Peter AU because these boys don’t get enough love! They’re aged up, so they’re in their twenties rather than teens, but still. Its a celeb AU also- Peter plays Spider-Man instead of being him.

“Oh my god I can’t go out there,” Ned hisses at Michelle. She looks nonplussed but she always looks like that even when there are celebrities here. Ok, there are always celebrities here but Ned doesn’t really care about most of them its just that he happens to be a huge Spider-Man nerd and Peter Parker is the best person he’s ever seen cast as the character. Toby Maguire was a travesty, and Andrew Garfield is pretty but not the perfect fit. Peter Parker though, Ned has never seen someone bring the character to life the way he does. Everything about him is absolutely perfect and now he’s sitting at a table with Tony Stark and okay this is... this...

“Ned, get your head out of your ass, he’s in your section,” Michelle tells him.

“You’ve got this!” Liz tells him over the little half wall that separates him from the kitchen area she’s in.

Yeah, he’s got this. He’s totally got this- Peter Parker is just a regular dude looking for food and Ned happens to know the food here is good. He probably eats too much of it, though to be fair he works a lot. Celebrities give good tips and he has school bills to pay for and also rent.

He starts walking over and okay never mind he does not got this he’s a lowly fat boy in school walking towards a person who plays one of the most iconic characters on television right now he is not worthy. He goes to turn around and give his table to Michelle when Peter god damn Parker notices him and smiles, waving a little excitedly and Ned has no choice now he has to go over.

“Uh, hey. I’m waiter, I’ll be your Ned this evening. I mean I’m a waiter, my name is Ned. I will be waiting. On the food. With the food, on you. Um. I’m going to shut up now,” he says, wishing he could banish himself to the shadow realm forever for that. Holy Christ he managed to embarrass the hell out of himself in less than two seconds this is the worst day of his life he hopes the earth gets hit by an astroid large enough that he’ll die long before he has to deal with poor Peter.

*

Yeah, Peter knows Ned is embarrassed but it was cute, watching him flounder a little. “Do you ever get used to that?” he asks Tony.

He shakes his head, “not really. I mean you get used to it in a way that you kind of expect it, but not in a way where you can really accept why people treat you that way. Or I didn’t, I know a lot of people who kind of let that kind of treatment go to your head and we’ve all watched what happens when child stars leave Disney. It really does fuck with people to have everyone treat you like a god only for them to turn around and get pissed off that you act like one now too.”

Shit, yeah Peter has seen that happen plenty but that’s just... not him. He grew up in Queens and didn’t even think he had a shot at landing the role of a lifetime. Hell, he would have ended up working a shitty dead end job because he couldn’t afford to go to college if not for Tony finding him at an improv group and deciding he had enough talent to fund his education. He’s always loved acting, putting on a show, and boy that has come back to bite him in the ass in really weird ways but in the end things worked out really well. Except for the part with the crazy fans, he doesn’t care for that, but that’s part of the job so.

“Hm. It wouldn’t be like... creepy to ask a fan out, right? Like because they’d be way less likely to say no to you? Would that be weird? I think that might be weird I won’t say anything,” he says, sealing his own fate.

Tony laughs, “depends on the fan and that one isn’t the type to worship you and also isn’t the type to stalk you. Keep in mind that consent goes both ways and fans are just as likely to ignore your boundaries. Maybe more, actually, since totally ignoring our privacy and personal space is considered normal and kind of encouraged. But that guy- just flustered. Probably a comic book nerd too,” he says.

If he’s a comic nerd Peter doesn’t see why he’d like Peter much. He can’t even believe the amount of blowback he got from the comic fandom over the fact that he’s trans and playing Spider-Man. Yeah, he obviously expected some blowback because that’s... well, normal not that he wants to admit that casual transphobia is alive and well. But it is, and he expected it, but the sheer amount of people that thought just that part of who he is should disqualify him from playing the character was nuts. Thankfully Peter Quill happens to be a crazy bastard and basically told everyone and their dogs to shove it because he knows what he’s doing. Which, to be fair, he does. And casting happens to be a skill he’s especially good with.

“Think you might be wrong about the comic nerd thing,” Peter says. Comic nerds are bird brains, he has decided.

“If you say so, kid,” Tony says and Peter can tell Tony thinks he’s right but he doesn’t say it.

*

Tony is trying to explain how he and Arthur Curry of all people ended up in a relationship when Ned comes back with food. Poor guy already suffered through drinks and Peter tried to talk to him to try and make him feel more comfortable but it didn’t really work. So when he comes back over Peter grins, “that smells so good,” he says and he is starving. Being stuck under film lights all day is actually exhausting work contrary to popular belief and obviously he gets fed but he’s like a bottomless pit with food. Can’t ever seem to get enough, but he’s always that way. The bonus is now that people read him as a guy no one asks if he should eat that much they just kind of assume he’s a glutton. Which, yay, because pastries.

“Um yeah, its pretty good. I’ve tried basically everything here except the caviar and the escargot because I draw the line at rich people food that sounds like it should be poor people food,” he says and Tony snorts, laughing into his hand.

“Yeah, guess fish eggs kind of do sound more like a thing poor people would eat than rich people. Weird. Also, not good- I’ve tried it and I don’t get the hype,” he says, shrugging.

“Tastes like spunk, I don’t get it either,” Tony says and the response obviously surprises Ned because he looks at Tony with a shocked expression on his face which, in hindsight, is probably why he doesn’t notice Peter’s food go overboard and into his lap. He jumps up before the hot food can do damage, then winces when the plate ends up in several pieces on the ground and Ned looks horrified.

“Its okay!” Peter says fast. “Things happen!”

“I am so sorry!” Ned says, eyes wide in horror.

“Its fine! I’ve had worse things thrown at me,” he says fast. Which is true, but also.

Ned rolls his eyes, “all those people who decided you couldn’t play Spider-Man because of some comic book inaccuracy or whatever bullshit need to look at those comics again because in issue 1034, which was released eight weeks before you even got the role, Gwen Stacy asks if you can lay eggs. Tom Holland, not you, you just play him. Whatever. Anyway, Gwen Stacy is a genius so she’d definitely know that only lady spiders can lay eggs. Also, Spider-Man is well known for his slightly high pitched voice and sure, people can argue that’s because he’s a teenager but I was sixteen once too and by then my voice was normal, so for Tom Holland to have hit puberty that late its totally acceptable to consider the effects of T on his voice and also- wait, no, oh my god. You don’t give a shit about any of this, people suck. They’re transphobes and also you have the perfect frame for it and lets be real, Christian Bale would have been a better choice than Toby fucking Maguire,” he says, flapping a hand around and wincing at his rant.

Peter raises an eyebrow, “there’s actual comic text evidence for trans Spider-Man?” he asks and Ned shrugs, cheeks turning a little red.

“I mean, you kinda gotta dig but if they can randomly make Captain America HYDRA and then unmake him HYDRA when everyone hated that shit trans Spider-Man is much less controversial. Actually, its totally inconsequential because why would that affect being Spider-Man, it just means you gotta take T and you- Tom Holland not you- got bit by a radioactive spider. Is being trans really more unrealistic than that? Because any idiot who claims realism probably need to pull their head out of their ass because the real world ain’t got super soldier serum to give you a shredded bod. Which, by the way, is my kind diet plan- just taking some experimental serum and come out hot. You don’t care about that either, oh my god, I’m getting comic nerd on a celebrity and also your food and-” Peter cuts Ned off to save him from himself.

“I think I might be in love with you, Ned,” he says and then winces, looking to Tony in a panic. Why the hell would he even say that!

“What he means,” Tony interjects smoothly, “is that he thinks you’re adorable, and he wants you number. Maybe a date, if you’re comfortable.”

Ned stares for a long moment. “Oh my god this is exactly season two episode four where MJ asks Gwen out for you even though that’s dumb because MJ and Gwen clearly belong with each other,” Ned says, eyes wide.

“Yeah I know right? Peter- Quill-” he clarifies when he remembers too late there’s two Peters involved in Spider-Man, “keeps pushing for it but stupid TV people won’t let him. So now he’s writing them as gay as possible to piss everyone off, except its kind of backfiring because now everyone thinks he’s queerbaiting but he’s not he’s queer expliciting as much as he can before someone fires him. Also yeah, I just don’t think Gwen is a good match for my character anyways, I mean she’s nice and all that but they’re kind of... platonic. Oh, um, do you know what a Miles Morales is?” he asks because Quill mentioned him and Peter has no idea who that is.

Ned does because he lets out a loud noise that’s halfway between a huff and a squeal and Peter is sure he’s never heard a noise like it before. “Oh my god they’re introducing Miles Morales! Yes!”

Tony throws a dinner roll at him and it bounces off his head, “you shit head, don’t give away spoilers!” he says like it isn’t a meme that Peter consistently gives stuff away. At this point they’ve started using it as marketing material it happens so often. Like that time he opened a supposedly internal poster on his Instagram and faked being shocked when he realized it wasn’t supposed to be public. Everyone ate it up even if they all knew it was fake- obviously it was considering the video was never taken down, but the fans loved it anyway.

“Give me every single spoiler now!” Ned says, excitement written all over his features.

Peter considers saying no but he’s not good at peer pressure, its how he got talked into doing shrooms when he was thirteen and that was a bad plan. “The multiverse explodes and one of the spider people dies but I can’t tell you which one,” he says quickly. Tony throws another roll at him for it but he can’t help it.

Ned lets out a loud screech, “oh my god if Peter Quill kills you I’ll go kill him!” he yells way too loud. People turn to stare and Peter waves them off.

“Talking about a TV show!” he assures people and Ned, to his credit, looks like he kind of wants the earth to swallow him.

“Peter doesn’t die,” Tony says, “and we’re going to leave before Dipshit McGee lets any more spoilers loose. You might not want to tell anyone any of that stuff, people will find you and I really wish that was a joke but its not. You’ll get like twelve cease and desist letters.”

“That’s true, I have like fifty of them in frames and also I’ve been banned from reading scripts until shooting schedule because I really am terrible at keeping things secret and this is really Quill’s fault for telling me any of this stuff and hey wait I don’t have his number yet,” he says and Tony drags him off.

“I’ll get his number and pay, you stop spoiling Quill’s hard work before he decides to kill you next,” Tony says.

#peter parker x ned leeds #fanfiction #alternate universe #writing

[tssfhr-blog]

[C-1 / M-18] Text One

i tried to write a short bio about myself and my music project

but

Bio

Kharkiv

13

too yolo for being a DJ

ambient, noise

Weaponized naivness, helpless attack

Kanye West, PJ Harvey

Bee Pole EP

Pure EP

Love LP

NII, Powerhouse, Plivka, Zhyvot

A/V

CHSZM - experimental electronic project of Aleksei Podat, based in Kharkiv, Ukraine. Started producing music at the age of 13 after being an EDM DJ at St. Petersburg pirate radiostation for 2 years.

Now he creates melodic noise which he describes as sound of “pure naviete weaponized by haunting helplessness of logic&QUITE-EMOTIONAL-APPROACH-TO-ANYTHING&O - V - E -R -R RE-ACTING"T[M]. His greatest influences were Kanye West and PJ Harvey, as for now among them appeared some Kyiv(NO)-meta-based artists like (Ivan Skoryna) - is - (actual artist name) John Object, and Moscow (Still-NO;still-meta) based media-artists AWN-naw

(wowww, an artist doesn’t have a PAGE, HOW’S THAT, MR. Цукерберг, Марк, Mr TAG EVERYONE ON EVERY BIT OF YOUR tinyDaATa ttmmm] soundcloud.com/awn_naw

so: and Zurkas Tepla

[the..articles are so difficult, I know how journalists may feel, sometimes, about posting a klikByte-headed material about poverty, war, or numerous G20 Ideologic rave party, I AM CHARLIE, CHARLIE SHEEN CAUGHT ROBBING WALLtm-MART NEAR THE FREEDOM ST., BUT luckily, the casser worker! had called the police last night, when they! heard some "sounds of (violent) noise.. haha great my friend got a vynil of this, which i have no possibility to actually hear, my sounds of noise are shaped by the bloodstream of mine and the clone of Mine[tm] who hopes, i hust buy it as fast as he could be tauht, at their trial lol trial, you have noone to feed, don’t you, family-less, dropped out of nowhere worker huhhh]

NEXT PARAGRAPH is/was/will be ABOUT - ( WHINNING ABIOUT UKRAINIAN BANK ACCOUNTS NOT ACCEPTING BANDCAMP TRANSACTIONS TRHOUIG PAY PAL DAM)….

I GOTTA MAKE THOSE FUCKING CASSETTES NOBODY REALLY NEADS, EXCEPT ONE ( you are dramqueened, lolll) Ph.D of USA University, which i respect, for the interest in New East culture. [I’d like them to show me. where’s the new east, so i could finally show em the old one]

Me Respect Professos, what’s wrong with that huh?)))), I am studying at Karazin University, I AM studying political sciences, without a bit of post-truth politics, just post-truth patriot-oriented education, it’s quite depressing. (UBA - shorter, smarter look, more modern than the actual modern term Ukrainian Bank Accounts, and it sounds like UBER, like not the taxi service, which robs every piece of his stuff, including the clever-auto-routed-cars. of course. If they are clever, they are good enough to be credited as stuff, AND BE TAKEN SERIOUS SUPPOSEDLY I GUESS MAYBE i don’t kno, tho, lo ve16/03/18 first LP has been self-released you kno, i gottaa promote it, and i do my best at it, since i left label with audience in Facebook of 3k people - next kp - k people, not k-pop,; Soundcloud like 7+kp (non k-pop also, they don’t even use it, u must be kidding, kidDO - kidDO - essential mobile app just for YOUR smartphone, to get you a proper kid. Look at you(r,) "kid” and look at “kidDO"TM!!! - exclamaiton marks are here to gain psychical pressure on our deer, hi that’s was bad jokey…like your kiddo, dear, dear, very dear, and precious customers, not to exclaim that we have registered this trademark with absolutely obvious "misunderstandings” with law, and fully understanding with the power….forces..FORCES OF POWER, OF

LOVE,

U

KNO, TO OUR CUSTOMERS…so, not to seem a little bit weird but I don’t feel lonely, I have a great support of my family and friends, I sometimes do just awful things to them, like…idk…being an artist with great not only the creative potential, but a POT(i’d smoke this sh1t on 3v3ryday bas1s in case I would have agreed on following the path of using potential #2, it’d be weird if i liked a chance to be a person like in example NUMBER TWO, u kno, TWO, 2, LOSER, FUCKING LOOSER,) ential of sitting my ass out near shitty PC on windows XP (Mhhmhmm, safety, in Ukrainian IT companies… is quite interesting quiestion, wee(d) n(w)eed to look at it from different perspectives, different angles…) (actually i do the same at my dorm, or at mama-house(TM haha, no, sry, i’m not THAT misogynistic human being, to EVEN Imagine™ my mother, as a woman, first of all (fck offff my “i-understood-Freud-wrong-but-1-read-it-ironically-so-fuckk-you”-mates, I understand these great postmod(ern)(ehhh)(snobbyy)(but i like it) possibilities that came out as a pale garbage, like from the corpse, the corpse of a most pale kidDO (of course if our company be mistakeyy just a lil bit, like “oops”), as soon as you got a thought in you head like “Oh, over-using (that small dash as a reminder - if you misread oversueing somehow, goto "mylawyer” and think a bit once, than a little bit more, and than turn your MINDPOWER [LP3, 2026 new demos never, I know, I’m a bit of paranoid about showing my stuff to anonymouses like ISIS or Presidents, like very very bad presidents, like, I even don’t kno who to mention, but you’ve got the point, they could rip off my MASTERPOWER [LP0 It was already released, and you are not talanted in googling enough to find it eat my t-shirts, to be more accurate, not shirts, i’m not that “kid” if he could be reffered like this too, since 29 years of struggle through average mid-class family “oopsey-woopseys”, Hey, CC [NoN-creative-commoned-Comedy-Central, so “™”], wanna see an episode dated 1999 where Bart SimpsonS, using his MINDPOWER, obviously"TM", becomes a high-school breakbit-techno-house-electro DJ BioSex [in reversed order, please, mix, but do not shake, please, to make a cocktail which our modern “underground electroni#css” music scene like really deserves

ADVERTPERVERT ROUBRIQUE [le]

Fill a collins glass with ice. Add tequila and midori, fill rest of glass with sour mix, and garnish with an orange slice and a cherry. Then drink it by yourself if you truly believe, that you are great at mixing 4/4 tracks, OH GOSH HOW MEAN I AM, I WAS NOT SUPPOSED TO BE MEAN TO A PERSON WHO JUST MAKES A LIVING ON DOING EVERYTHING HE WANTS, LIKE VINYLL FLIP-FLOPS, AND CD’S CHANGINGGGG [REALLY HOT DOWN HERE, YOU NOW, HEATING IS GOING LIKE SHUSH, ITS JUST SO HOT UNDER THE DJ TABLE FUCK IT, IKEA, YOU GOTTA DO SMTH WITH IT]..sorry,..fck, almost forgot about this phoney thingy [IKEAtm - more than trade, more than marks, IKEA rules, here are scandinavian workers tired sparks (around head) (from amusement, how GOOD, it TASTES, to eat CHICKEN, at the TABLE, you know you PRODUCED, but you DON’T CARE [mArXXXattention - marxists fukof, i know i’m using some kind of “not really accurate” info!! about your DAD’S BOOK, i’m sorry, I never gonna touch it again, I promise, peace] [Fuck xxxtentaciwho, i don’t stand public image of a talented musician to be spoiled with so fucked up facts, like beating someone for a long time, or having sex with a person against their will, and that’s not a joke. Pretty sad that talented freshmen will never be a talented human being for me, but he still is for someone, and those are might be fucked up as hell also, not as much as a person, who fucks another with a fork, or other objects [even if he does it in postmod, that’s cruel to kids, think about what happend to WW2 kids, and X it on the quantity of eyes that never seen the damn piece of war [lucky ones, would be like to feel a bit like that] [i’m lucky too, but not that much, you kno, “Sloviansk"TM, or how it frequently was trasliterated from "local-pronounciation” - Slavinsk [CC license] - [src: telegraph.co.uk/…/Donetsk-police-chief-forced-out-as-Ukrain…, BTW! using a chance of such a productivity FUCK Telegraph, and probably fUcK BBC News [can’t find a source, but i remember this LE GOOGLE-LESS JOURNALIST REPORTAGE for not having a MINDPOWER, and what’s more important, for them, as professionals, of “dividing"TM "bad people"TM and "good people"TM - a MASTERPOWER ability. Purchase Love LP. LP is for Pl which is for [sorry, my polish friends, and people who don’t understand slavic-english-writing-stYLO [stereotype], sorry, I’m very very sorry, that IT HAPPENED[TM], yeas, Pl - which is for Please! Sorry! I admit, I took you to the really dark place, but I Love you, and I really want you to survive. [really enjoying’ my time with those funny Latin letters, playing with them, omg, i don’t even kno what doessss the DAMN.[really liked it, but TPAB was way better, please take a note, Kendrick, i’m your fan for 3 yrs, my opinion weighs smth, huh? I don’t even have fans which are able to notice when i delete a bunch of my “First Relaeses” from bandcamp. That’s for good, actually, I’d like not to get any messages containg things like “Hei Aleksei! Your first release Ножові was great and thought-provoking, and your last LP called..let me think, Laugh? Life? Ah, I remembered it’s called] half of my words mean

And yeah

Love / OUT NOW

CHSZM - noise music project of Kharkiv based media-artist Aleksei Podat.

Hometown: Sloviansk

Birthdate: 25/08/1996

gosh, i got these voices sequenced to 4/4 again, moom. I need a PROFESSIONAL HERE

if you got some psychologist help to advice, i’d be shy, but greatful

__________________________________________________________

Telegram Channel

#black and white #long post #postmodern #new literature

[viruswithsaas]

“Damn” (Kendrick Lamar)

As you can tell from the previous reviews, I am a metalhead. An openminded one, yes, with the record collection to prove it but still. I often say that listen to many genres but I always come back to metal because that is the genre I’m most familiar with, I know best and whose esthetic most appeals to me. That being said, this review is going to be a bit different and out of my comfort zone.

Hip hop and rap have taken over from rock and are now the most popular genres right now on Spotify and the North-American radio stations. A lot has been said about this evolution. Mostly very immature comments about some conspiracy by the record labels to keep “real music” down and how today’s chart toppers are sooo stupid!

I’ve made my contribution as well and stated that mainstream rock sucks, the underground is very much alive and that, if you love a genre, you wouldn’t care if it’s popular or not. Some of my favourite albums never moved a lot of copies. So, big deal. Now, how do I feel about hip hop from 2017? Euh...

It has been a long while since I’ve actively explored the genre and I’ve always had a disdain for mainstream acts like Jay-Z or the very formulaic music that 2Pac always delivered. However since Killah Priest’s “Heavy Mental” from 1996, the Marshall Mather LP’s albums and JJ Doom’s “Bookhead EP” A LOT has changed. The beats have mutated from “a solid, old funk beat” to “rattling machine drum hihats and half time kicks” or “straight up electro”.

One of the things that hasn’t changed a lot is that mainstream hip hop still sucks. Kanye West is doing some dope things and I want to admire him as an artist but Kanye as a person is keeping me from it. Eminem hasn’t released a decent album in god knows how long. Lil’ Uzi Vert is terrible and Lil’ Pump is not even a joke but a meme.

However, one name that interested me was Kendrick Lamar. Critics and audiences have hailed him as one of the greats in the genre and his sales are through the roof, YouTuber The Rap Critic did interesting reviews of his songs “Humble” and “Swimming Pools” and he released a new album in 2017. So obviously I gave in to my curiosity and checked out “Damn”.

First thing that struck me, were the strong hooks and the bouncy production. Instrumentation wise, it is fresh, maybe not all that revolutionary but still solid and more experimental than your average pop banger with original arrangements and unpredicatable song structure. The gueststars are on point. For example I’ve never liked Rihanna’s music or her image but on “Loyalty” she is very, very good. Same for U2. Tolerated their old stuff, felt indifferent about their output of the last 10 years or so but liked them on “XXX”.

Then I listened to it again with the lyrics.

It sort of shocked me to hear how much Lamar raps about loneliness, even abandonment. One of the lines that pops up every now and then over the entire course of the album is “ain’t nobody praying for me”. That sentiment resonates through “Loyalty” and reprimands the others by asking for what they live. To whom have they sworn loyalty? In “Love” Lamar asks his love interest if she would still love him if he wasn’t successful or if she will stick by him while he pursues his ambitions. Sincere sentiments.

Of course, other things that never change about hip hop are the often misogynist lines and bragging. The line “If I gotta go hard on a bitch, I'ma make it look sexy” from “Element” still doesn’t sit right with me and shall we talk about “Humble” and the point where Lamar brags “If I quit this season, I still be the greatest, funk”?

It’s a bit of a shame because otherwise this would have a solid LP that could compete with my favourite albums, now he seems to contradict himself at certain points and I have very little tolerance for that. Especially when he does it in the course of one song, namely “XXX”. Then again in “DNA”, he says that “I got power, poison, pain and joy inside my DNA, I got hustle though, ambition, flow, inside my DNA”. Just to say I might get something wrong.

When Lamar hits with a good track however, he doesn’t miss the mark. “Fear” is a piece that describes how fear gets instated and how it will afterwards dictate the rest of your life. Even after having played it half a dozen times, it still sends chills down my spines.

“Lust” is another great song with a massive message against political apathy, i.e. stop thinking with your genitals and let’s get wise.

But the one track that takes the cake and the b*tch who made it is “Feel”. Not only is Lamar’s flow on fire, I like to think that this is where you hear him at his purest. The thoughts jump out of his head through his mouth, he feels lonely, he feels empty, angry at everybody and nobody, paranoid even. Do you know that feeling where you don’t want to admit that you need somebody but at the same time feel like crashing in somebody’s arms? That anger that serves as a shield, to hide yourself and push everybody around you away? That is “Feel”.

“Damn” might come over as a record with a lot of bravoure and arrogance and for a large part that’s true since bravoure and arrogance are trademarks of hip hop but at the same time, it is also an emotional record where the cockyness partially shrouds emotional voids that no money, fancy cars or casual pussy can hide.

In 2017 hip hop is bigger than ever, Kendrick Lamar has proven to be a huge and important name in that scene but I’m curious to his next record and whether or not he will deliver his pièce de résistance.

Ivo VirusWithShoes

Sorry, Kendrick, we are atheists and don’t pray for anybody. However, we will listen to your music. http://www.kendricklamar.com/music

#Metalhead listens to hip hop #kendrick lamar #damn #late review #We pray for nobody #hip hop is music too