#*hears one bizarre radio station*

[salmonskinrolltf]

this is soooo embarrassing. I can’t believe I’m even typing it out. But dude, I’ve been a gaymer for as long as I remember. I’m 30 pounds too heavy. I’m 27 and living. With too many roommates in the suburbs. And well. I’ve been watching Glee lately. And I just got to the season around college and I was hoping I could rent some tapes. See, I’ve got this major crush on Darren’s character Blaine and itd be awesome to always be singing and dancing and having fun. I was never a theatre kid myself. Any chance you can help?

Almost like a miracle, right when you considered ordering a tape from Be Kind Rewind, one of your roommates got a VCR. You suppose. You’re not sure which one of them actually got it, but it’s right there, plugged into the TV in your living room, so someone must have. The only thing is, you’ve had to wait until everyone was out to use it. You double check that the door is locked and everybody is out for the evening. You’re embarrassed to be seen watching the show, but you’re embarrassed for another reason tonight, too. Because renting this tape feels like a special occasion, you’ve decided to cosplay as Blaine a little bit. Your hair is neatly slicked back and you’ve donned a cardigan and bow tie to match his put-together preppy look.

When you’re certain the coast is clear, you open the (thankfully discretely marked) package and a die rolls out into your hand. Oh yeah. The die thing. Weird. You toss it onto the coffee table and it lands on 4.

When the VCR whirs to life, you hear those a cappella credit trills that indicate whatever episode that was playing has already ended, so you jab the rewind button, humming the music quietly to yourself. You scratch your stomach and realize the fabric of your cardigan is much looser than it should be. You lift it up and see that your stomach has shrunk, flattening against your torso, which seems firmer and more lithe in general.

Stunned, you gaze at yourself in the nearest mirror, noticing how the new outfit looks even more Blaine-like after your bizarre transformation. In fact, everything is looking more Blaine-like. Your eyebrows thicken and darken, your slicked-back hair darkening along with them. As your lips plump up and your skin tans slightly, you realize you look like a total Blaine doppelganger. Your dick hardens in the thrift store pants you bought to match the overall preppy look. You look just like your crush! You’re not even questioning it, you just figure you must be dreaming or something. But even if you’re only dreaming, why let the opportunity pass you by to admire yourself more… privately?

In a daze, you wander into the bathroom. Instead of the pigsty it normally is, living with so many roommates, it looks neat and tidy. Tubs of hair gel neatly line the sides of the sink, and the mirror is decorated with playbills, a photo of Blaine and Kurt, and a bumper sticker for a local Lima, Ohio radio station. Not only do you look exactly like Blaine, you’re now in what seems to be his bathroom! You admire yourself in the mirror.

A thrill of excitement thrums through you and you unzip your pants, rubbing yourself at the thought of looking just like your crush.

As you pleasure yourself, you think about the various Glee characters you have the biggest crushes on. Could you use this VHS service to become them all? The thought makes you even more aroused. However, when Blaine returns to your mind, your dick deflates. Suddenly it feels wrong to be thinking about him. You try to cycle back through the other characters in your mind, but suddenly only the female ones come to mind. Brittany, Quinn, even Rachel. Your dick springs back to full hardness and you panic at the sudden shift in your sex drive. You shove your erection back into your pants but not before cum explodes into the sink. You hurriedly wipe it up with some toilet paper.

What the hell is going on? As you scrub, you don’t notice that the gel is slowly easing out of your hair, which curls and falls over your face in a more lackadaisical, unkempt fashion. Stubble sprouts from your cheeks, chin, and upper lip, slowly growing into a short beard. Your clothes morph from your preppy ensemble into more of a rocker vibe, your shredded T-shirt dipping into a V-neck that exposes the dark, matted chest hair that has been busy unfurling across your newly taut torso. 

Right when you flush the balled-up wad of TP, a voice interrupts your panic.

“What the hell are you doing in my bathroom?”

You turn to the doorway and see Blaine Anderson standing there. Wait, that can’t be. Weren’t you just him? You turn to look at yourself in the mirror and see a much more rugged, sloppy individual than the person you were just a moment before. You look like Blaine, but… different. Older, somehow. And more unkempt, definitely.

This intruder, on the other hand, looks exactly like Blaine. He also looks annoyed. He taps his toe and runs a hand across his impeccably coiffed hair. “This is why I asked Mom for my own bathroom, so I wouldn’t have to wait for you all the time. How is it that I use 12 hair products a day and you still take longer than I do for everything?”

You’re too shocked to say anything. You’re unsure whether you’re more shocked by the words he’s saying or the fact that Blaine is standing just feet away and you feel nothing about it whatsoever. As your brain sputters, your body kicks into autopilot and you shrug.

“The gays haven’t cornered the market on looking good just yet, little bro,” you chuckle, punching his arm as you head back out into the hallway, which now looks like one that belongs in a pristine suburban home. 

As you head back into your room, you notice that it looks entirely different. No game consoles in sight, just laundry strewn everywhere and a mini basketball hoop on the back of the doorway. You absent-mindedly toss a NERF basketball toward the hoop and it hits the rim, flying back in your direction and smacking you in the face, knocking you back onto the unkempt mattress that’s on the floor without a bed frame.

You groggily open your eyes and look around. Where the hell are you? Who the hell are you? You rack your brains. Oh yeah. David Anderson. Eldest son of one of the lamest families on the planet, smack dab in the middle of Buttfuck, Ohio. You scratch your hairy chest underneath your T-shirt and check the time.

You remember you have plans to grab some brews with the boys this evening before seeing the latest movie starring that hot actress you like, so you’d better head out quick so you can hit up the gym beforehand. You throw on your gym clothes, grab your water bottle, and rush out the door.

As you pass by your little bro’s room, you see him singing along to a Mariah Carey tune and practicing his dance moves. You roll your eyes good-naturedly. Singing and dancing aren’t for you, but you appreciate how into it he is. You figure that, for him, singing and dancing brings him the same joy that going to the gym and playing ball with your bros does for you. You leap up to smack the top of the door frame as you head outside, barely giving Blaine another thought as you walk down the street, anticipating the awesome evening ahead of you.

[labyrinthofsphinx]

I love some good angst/comfort so I am 100% here for it!

But aside from that, I love how Al’s employees seem to be genuinely happy for him being happy! That’s a sweet little touch.

Oh, they are very happy for him, especially if it means they get an easier work week. XD

There is Lester, the tall one. He is Al's general maintenance guy. He handles a lot of the day to day operations, getting things up and ready to go. Once, he had a silent crush on Lori, but he's since given that up and is currently in a happy, long term relationship. He is also the gossiper of the group, and he seems to hear just about everything.

Clay is the stout one. He is the actual radio tech guy, and he only works with the radio equipment. While Al does add a lot of his own touches, Clay does the more fine tuning things and making sure the sound is smooth and the broadcast is clear. He swears all the time that he's a day away from retirement, but he loves his job and his co-workers too much to ever quit. He's been working with Al the longest of the three, and has known Al in general since Al was a teen.

Lorraine, or Lori for short, is the only girl there currently. She does the books and paperwork, and sometimes writes for the news section of the broadcast. She also acts kinda like an impromptu secretary for Al sometimes, calling people to change appointments whenever Al can't for some reason. She's hoping to use this job as a opportunity to get into her own media show one day. She also had the biggest crush on Vox since forever...until he and Al started hanging out. Now, she's their biggest shipper. XD

Ever since Vox started hanging out with Al, lots of things have changed at the radio station. Sometimes they have crazy celebrity guest stars, sometimes they get shipped bizarre new tech that isn't even on the market yet, and sometimes they get a whoooole bunch of fresh New York bagels delivered for the whole crew. Most peculiar is that Alastor is always in a good mood following a 'fishing' or 'hunting' trip.

They love it! They especially love it whenever Vox is actually present in the studio. Aside from being everyone's celebrity crush, Vox is generally a doll to have around: always nice, professional, and polite. And he's so helpful, both with the equipment and with Al.

There's plenty of stories they could tell.

Once he was around when one of the old systems failed and, rather than everyone panicking because they were going to miss their broadcast, Vox went in a gave it a quick patchwork job for the time.

Another time, Al darn near burned his throat out on some overly hot coffee. And right before a broadcast they couldn't afford to miss either. Rather than having Al choke on some cough drops and pray like they would normally, Vox stepped in for his one and only broadcast on Alastor's radio show. He calmed Al down after the show with some ice cream.

He is a walking chill pill for them. And they're all very happy that their once loner boss now has and I quote from Clay: "The best friend he should've had growing up."

...though, they all kinda know they're something more than 'best friends'. Not that they'd say as much to Al's face XD

Thanks for the ask!

[dracolizardlars]

I'm assuming it's just the one trailer that's played across all the BBC radio stations but it's so bizarre to be listening to the alt station 6Music and hear "Catch Coldplay live at Glastonbury!" No thanks, lady, but I will certainly be watching your live coverage of Squid, Arlo Parks, Idles, Fontaines DC, Otoboke Beaver, Yard Act, Sleaford Mods, Soft Play and Kim Gordon... Yknow, the music that actually gets played on this radio station which I am listening to because I like that kind of music

[basedkikuenjoyer]

Last one from the SBS, someone asked about real-world jobs for the admirals and Oda answered they'd be radio personalities. This is awesome and I think they'd all be good at it. But we do not care about that today. No no, see because we have a rare find. When the airwaves went live in Wano, who else did the people press into filling them?

What follows friends, is a brief rundown of what you can expect to hear on K-ODN, Wano's #1 radio station!

Kin'emon is your talk radio guy. Don't worry, he's not a nutter. I picture a call-in show. He opines for a bit about news of the day then opens up the smails. Often gets pranked, sometimes not realizing this is happening leads to bizarre feats of luck in them somehow translating into breaking a major story.

Denjiro partners up with Hiyori to do the actual news. Straight reporting, very matter of fact but competent. Won a local emmy for their investigative reporting.

Kiku...look, you ever seen King of the Hill? You know how Luanne has the Manger Babies? Kiku puts on a kiddie radio drama that she gets way too invested in. Does all kinds of voices herself, the kids freaking love it. It is extremely corny and saccharine though.

Raizo is your main man for the latest hit music. Total nerd for it, just the type of classic top 40 DJ you don't see anymore.

Ashura is the big midnite DJ, spinning some underground music from overseas and interviewing the seedier side of Wano like some kind of Howard Stern knockoff.

Neko is also music but more chill vibes on a sleepy morning. Takes requests but has discriminating tastes and will talk mad shit about your request if he doesn't like it. Big hit with the housewives.

Inu & Kawamatsu are your sports radio. Insightful, but ultimately banal chatter about the ins and outs of contemporary sumo and the like. Type of thing you can expect to hear on in the background of construction sites.

[thecreelcurse]

ᴘʟᴏᴛ ᴅʀᴏᴘ 03 ……… ᴛʜᴇ ᴇᴀʀᴛʜQᴜᴀᴋᴇ

the ground was shaking before reality set in. for the ones that had felt the hawkins quakes almost a year prior, it should've been like deja vu. but it wasn't. the rattling of the pavement underneath their feet had them bending at their knees, holding onto whatever was closest. bracing for the split that ... never came. the ground had been in tact for some but there was no glimpses of hell under their toes like last time. instead, there was stillness. as though the earth never meant to make it happen. as though, someone who was controlling it made a mistake. silence erupted and everyone sought out a familiar face. someone to reassure that it wasn't just in their minds ... that this was real. and so it was. rummaging for phones, everyone tried to make outbound calls to their loved ones. to make sure they were safe ... but phones were not connecting. the cellular sign on their phones all read the same thing: no service. a warning across all radio stations within hawkins gave out an emergency signal along with the advisory to stay off the roads. the towers and light poles were all over the streets, preventing any vehicle to move freely through the roads in town. if anyone wanted to find their loved ones, they would have to go by foot. everyone had someone that they were with in town. that's all they would be able to cling to in this time of need. the only bizarre part is ... four hawkins residents were beginning to see things. hear things. it's as though someone were trying to speak to them ... in a taunting and menacing tone. it wasn't long into the twenty-four hours that it began to happen ... again. a dazed look into the eyes of elliot graves, ben rutherford, vickie simmons, & jessica fullbright made their partners turn back to wonder what was happening with them. some of them had seen it before ... vecna's trance. it was only but a moment later that they were lifted to the ground as though they were cursed by some dark magic. screams of horror were let out when all of them were seen by surrounding residents of hawkins. it took only about a minute more before the trance was broken for three of them. elliot, ben, & vickie snapping back into reality and falling to the depths below ... jessica was not so lucky. the sound of her bones cracking in mid air was enough to traumatize the members of hawkins quaint community. she was plummeting to the grass below without a moments notice. the survivors were spared ... but for how long?

THE TRANCED:

elliot graves

ben rutherford

vickie simmons

jessica fullbright ( npc - deceased )

THE PARTNERS: 

will & carol ( outside blooms a-go-go )

al & max ( forest hills trailer park )

visk & yoojin ( the hideout )

tammy & quinn ( the record shop )

lucas & elliot ( hawkins community college )

jim & theodora ( police station )

ronnie & rick ( benny's burgers )

ben & steve & noah ( outside town hall )

erica & eddie ( the garage )

joyce & nancy ( hawkins coffee shop )

vickie & iggy ( barnes & noble )

suzie & dustin ( the community college science lab )

el & robin ( hawkins high school )

OOC NOTES: 

the earthquake knocked down the cell tower for at least 24hrs. while the roads are unsafe to drive, hawkins police force are advising residents to stay off the roads until it's deemed safe. for at least 24hrs, your character should not be in contact with anyone else but their partner in the quake. 

the tranced: vecna took over your character's mind! similar to how he did with nancy in season 4, when the quake began, your character began to see things from their past as they tried to find their loved ones in town. whether it's hallucinations of a lost loved one, the voice of someone from their past - the choice of what they see is completely up to you. it's sudden when they enter the trance. they appear in their minds on downtown main street where suddenly, they are in 1986. they slowly begin to evolve as they walk through town, in the "flashback" where it quickly shifts into 1991. the time periods flash with every step they take as though they are in a time machine. the last step they take, they are free falling into a bout of memories from their past that ends in their loved ones tangled in the hive mind. for elliot, she sees her niece and her marine core entangled in vines. for ben, he sees his parents. his lost brother. for vickie, it's her younger siblings. all of them are tangled in the hive mind as vecna's voice echoes, booming through their minds, 'it's time you join them, ___'. they are released from vecna's trance not by music. he lets them go to warn the others that he is still around.

make note that the three in the trance do not see vecna, they only hear his voice.

please keep in mind, some of the characters will find out about vecna due to them seeing someone in a trance or from being in the trance. it's crucial that we keep track of who does and doesn't know about vecna for plot purposes so if your character doesn't get to figure out about vecna yet - don't worry! the next plot drop will be even bigger for the sake of the plot. 

if your character still doesn't know about the upside down, have them start to get suspicious if you'd like! do they think that something is going on in the town of hawkins? do they think this is just another "natural disaster" for hawkins? do they want to go looking for clues? are they blissfully unaware of what's happening? the choice is all up to you!

for the ones that do know about the upside down, it's pretty much confirmed - he's back. however you choose to have your character react, all up to you. until the next plot drop, vecna will be in hiding.

writing for the plot drop will conclude on dec. 10th.

[raspodcast]

RAS #663 - Valse Triste

On this edition of Ron’s Amazing Stories Join Ron as he takes you on a journey through the strange and unusual. From classic horror tales to modern stories of the macabre this one has something for everyone who loves a good scare. 

Porter Hawkins from Liverpool, England tells his story about recent unusual events at his home. Sylvia Shults gives her thoughts on what it all means. This week's featured story is Valse Triste from the old-time radio series, Lights Out. It's a bizarre and controversial tale that will keep you on the edge of your seat. Ron also shares his thoughts on fear, reviews the audiobook Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark, and explores the fascinating topic of phobias in a brand new Johnny Is It True. So sit back, relax, and let Ron's Amazing Stories transport you to a world of wonder and suspense.

Featured Story - Valse Triste

Our featured story comes from the old time radio series, Lights Out. Valse Triste is a very strange tale that borders on subject matter that could be considered controversial today. But, it is horror at its best and has the Obler twist that you won't see coming. I really don't know when this version aired, but It originally aired on March 3, 1938.

Other Stories Include - My Thoughts On Fear, Review -Scary Stories To Tell In The Dark, The Beheading Of Sarah, Johnny Is It True - Phobias

Program Notes: To read the article A Journey Through The Brain’s Reaction To Fear follow the link.

Ron’s Amazing Stories Is Sponsored by: Audible - You can get a free audiobook and a 30 day free trial at audibletrial.com/ronsamazingstories.

Your Stories: Do you have a story that you would like to share on the podcast or the blog? Head to the main website, click on Story Submission, leave your story, give it a title, and please tell me where you're from. I will read it if I can. Links are below.

Music Used In This Podcast: Most of the music you hear on Ron’s Amazing Stories has been composed by Kevin MacLeod (incompetech.com) and is Licensed under Creative Commons: By Attribution 3.0. Other pieces are in the public domain. You can find great free music at FreePd.com which is a site owned by Kevin.

Program Info: Ron’s Amazing Stories is published each Thursday. You can download it from Apple Podcasts, stream it on Stitcher Radio or on the mobile version of Spotify. Do you prefer the radio? We are heard every Thursday at 10:00 pm and Sunday Night at 11:00 PM (EST) on AMFM247.COM. Check your local listing or find the station closest to you at this link.

Social Links: Main Podcast Site by LibSyn The Blog Site by WordPress Facebook Link Twitter Link Contact Links: Email Story Submissions Contact Ron

Check out this episode!

[drewoclock]

My Keyboard's Secret

Originally published October 6th, 2014

I had just set my alarm perfectly.  Sixteen minutes for me to fall asleep and six hours for me to sleep--it was the scientifically perfect circumstances for going to bed right at that moment.  So of course, I started playing my keyboard.

I played for a while before I thought I heard a noise.  I paused briefly before playing on, but the noise persisted.  It was quiet, and I tried to identify it.  I thought it might be scurrying and immediately envisioned a malicious squirrel, scurrying under my furniture like a true thug.  I got up and surveyed the area, but no critters.  I briefly considered that my roommate may be hiding in my room preparing to kill me.  I checked under the bed.  No roommate.  I was alone.

And so I went back to playing, more cautious.  The noise was still there.  Eventually I oscillated between quick bursts of playing and not playing, and I noticed the noise seemed to stop when I stopped playing.  So in order to further my investigation, I had to keep playing.  The sound was beginning to sound less random and more rhythmic.  A rhythmic mystery sound--could it be my roommate next door having sex?  I realized he was alone--could it be my roommate masturbating?  I realized that sound would not have persisted so long.  I stopped playing and noticed something--the noise was continuing.  I had been wrong; there was no link between my playing and the noise.

I really listened now, good and hard.  I suspected it might be drums that I was hearing, but how?  Was my keyboard playing the drums?  I cranked the volume of my keyboard.  The noise was no louder.  If it was my keyboard playing these drums, it should be very loud right now.  I hit various buttons on my keyboard to test this, and sure enough, everything was uncomfortably loud--except this noise, which was uncomfortably quiet.  It probably wasn't my keyboard.

I had an idea.  I've heard this noise before.  Distant, barely audible rhythms?  It's my iPod, having been left on and blasting through my ear phones.  I victoriously retrieve my iPod from my backpack to see that it's off.  I don't have any other electronic devices, but quickly running out of ideas, I momentarily wondered if I owned a secret iPod that I never told myself about.  I decided this was a bad idea.

It definitely wasn't my laptop--that's hooked up to my speakers and cranked (because my laptop doubles as my alarm clock).  Was it from outside?  It's a party kind of neighborhood; maybe Sunday night is begging for some loud music on the streets.  But no, it wasn't.  The outside world was hardly buzzing.  Desperate, I powered off my keyboard.

The sound stopped.  

I powered it back on and the sound continued.  I decided to follow the noise with my ear and, just as I suspected, I found my ear at the keyboard speakers.  Now the noise was very clear: With my ear pressed directly to the speaker at its loudest volume, I could hear the sounds of jazz.

I know my keyboard has prerecorded keyboard tracks, and jazz is a reasonable track to have, so I chalk this up to a bizarre malfunction.  My keyboard is playing a jazz track very quietly, repeatedly, and no amount of button mashing can stop it.  It's not the worst thing in the world, but it's definitely distracting to my keyboard playing.  I groan, knowing I'll have to put fixing my keyboard on my list of things to do.

My ear is still to the keyboard.  The song isn't bad, but it's changing.  The piano I had been hearing has now been supplanted by very brassy instruments.  It's still jazz, but it sounds less and less justified for being on my keyboard.  What's going on?  Is my keyboard secretly playing jazz music while I'm trying to play my own music?  The only way this makes sense is if...

I grab my iPod and tune into the radio, one ear on the speaker and the other in my ear bud.  With the very first radio station I heard, I found a match.  My keyboard was playing the music from a local jazz radio station, and so quietly you could barely hear it.

How is this possible?  I don't know.  How do I fix this?  I probably can't.  What can I do?  I'm guessing nothing.  I suppose I can relax having solved the mystery.  I can keep playing my keyboard instead of sleeping.  And I guess I can be sort of proud.  I don't know many musicians get to have an instrument that's always playing its own music.

[grantgoddard]

Don’t play that song for me : 2004 : unusual FM radio formats, Phnom Penh

Here in Phnom Penh, there are seventeen radio stations on the FM dial, even though Cambodia’s capital city has a population of less than a million. But you are more likely to hear a song by Britney Spears or Madonna on the 'BBC World Service' (100 FM here) than on any of the local FM stations. Only one, 'Love FM' 97.5, plays Western music and its playlist stretches solely from the obscure ('Pretty Boy' seems to be the most requested song) to the bizarre (New Kids On The Block?). The rest of the local stations play exclusively Cambodian music. It’s radio, Jim, but not as we know it. Several hundred hours of radio listening suggest two Cambodian programme formats that could be adopted in the West:

KARAOKE CALL-IN RADIO

Most stations in Phnom Penh have a daily show or two of karaoke call-in. Each station employs a pair of singers (one male, one female) who sit in the radio studio with a standard karaoke CD machine plugged into the mixing desk. Listeners call in to a mobile phone number which is also routed to the desk. Most stations have no Telephone Balance Units or 'clean feed' system, so callers can only hear the presenter by keeping the volume of their radio turned up, which leads to howling feedback (considered normal here) during every call. Stations with Optimod-style audio processing suffer ever worse feedback loops.

There is no pre-screening of callers. There is no delay system. You hear the mobile phone ring in the studio. The presenters answer the phone on-air, ask the caller’s name, where they are calling from, and the song they wish to sing. While one presenter finds and cues the appropriate karaoke CD, the other chats amiably with the caller about the reasons they have chosen the particular song. The song starts, one of seemingly hundreds of Cambodian love songs that are all male/female duets. If the caller is female, the station singer sings the male verses, and prompts the caller to sing the female verses. If the caller is male, the reverse applies.

The karaoke machine adds echo to the singer’s voice. It is no exaggeration to say that most callers have no sense of either melody or rhythm. The majority are absolutely appalling singers and seem to have no sense of shame exhibiting their complete lack of ability on-air. Conversely, all the radio station singers are excellent, not only at singing but also at treating every caller with dignity and respect. Each caller is allowed to complete their selected song, despite their obvious lack of talent, the howling feedback and the poor-quality audio (most callers use analogue mobile phones). At the end of the song, the presenters thank the caller and, as soon as they end one call, you hear the mobile phone ring again, and they move immediately to the next caller.

Because there is no pre-screening, some callers inevitably are put directly on-air who want a different radio programme, a different radio station, or the local pizza delivery service. The presenters treat even the mistaken callers with the same respect. Each karaoke show continues in this fashion for several hours, punctuated only by batches of hideous commercials, each lasting two minutes and using more voice echo than the average King Tubby dub plate. At the end of the show, the two station singers get to sing a song together, without the humiliation of having to duet with an out-of-tune, out-of-sync caller bathed in feedback.

GRIEVANCE DROP-IN RADIO

In a country where the legal system rarely delivers results that resemble natural justice, the majority of the population look elsewhere for ways to resolve their problems. What better medium than a radio station? At the same time, in a country where the news agenda is dominated by ruling politicians’ pre-occupations, what content can journalists safely use to fill time in their news bulletins? The answer for both the people and the journalists is to air relatively minor grievances from the population that in no way threaten the government’s rule.

For state radio, this means sending journalists to distant provinces to interview farmers about agricultural problems or minor disputes with their neighbours. The results are passed off on-air as 'news'. Imagine if 'You & Yours' replaced the 'Today' programme on 'BBC Radio Four'. In Phnom Penh, where hard-pressed commercial radio stations can barely afford to employ journalists, some stations sympathetic to opposition parties operate an open-lobby system. Citizens who have grievances to air simply turn up at the radio station, their complaint is recorded, and then broadcast unedited and without context. The results are startling for a Westerner accustomed to hearing only carefully produced 'packages' of balanced opinions or only short sound bites of real people’s voices emanating from cosy UK radio stations.

This week I heard a woman sobbing and moaning her way through an unedited ten-minute monologue, explaining how her husband had allegedly been abducted by a criminal gang and disappeared. Last week, on another station, I heard a widow sobbing uncontrollably and threatening to set fire to herself and her children because ownership of the radio station belonging to her dead husband had just been awarded to another man by the municipal court. Both broadcasts moved me to tears, despite being in a language I cannot understand. Why? Because I cannot remember hearing such raw emotion spilling out of my radio set (except in drama) for a very long time.

The majority of our phone-in shows have become carefully packaged entertainment while our grievances seem trivial compared to the tribulations suffered by people here. Because the majority in Cambodia still have no access to a telephone, the radio station drop-in provides an important forum for aggrieved citizens to voice their anger and emotion. Listening to these raw, unedited voices has reminded me of the potential emotional power embodied in the radio medium, and the need for programme producers back home to play less safe, allowing more real voices on the radio that can move listeners to tears.

After several more months on this diet of karaoke and tear-jerking stories, I anticipate that my return home to a menu of 'BBC Radio One' and 'Capital FM' will quickly reveal such 'professional' stations to be wearing the Emperor’s New Clothes. All faux excitement and faux dialogue with listeners, but nary a raw emotion in sight … or sound.

[First published in 'The Radio Magazine', May 2004]

[dreamfluxx]

Adding to this because I was 12 when the attacks happened, and have several vivid memories that are just surreal trying to explain to others.

Hearing that god fucking damn "Proud to be an American" song over and over and OVER AND OVER AND OVER. Every. Single. Day. On. Every. Single. Radio station. I remember it coming on one station and then switching it over only for it to be playing that goddamn song ON THE SAME BAR EVEN. Like you could not escape.

Just how fast violent racism was just so... normal. A joke even. Yes there were "can we do comedy" talks among the adults but the kids? "Towelhead" and suicide bomber jokes and anthrax jokes were all the rage. I didn't know much of anything about Islam back then but the basics and suddenly everyone was an expert who knew just how backwards and horrible it was. There was that fucking puppet comedian guy who had an entire character that was an undead suicide bomber and that was it. That was the entire joke.

And the main thing that sticks out is just how this extreme switch was treated so *normally*. Like of course we would sign away our right to privacy with the Patriot Act. Of course we were going to send thousands of soldiers overseas even tho as far back as the initial invasion of Afghanistan we KNEW there were no WMDs. But that was okay because freedom. If you had ANY concern or disagreement you hated freedom and you hated our troops and you wanted the terrorists to win.

There was still plenty of protests. But those people were portrayed as ignorant freedom haters. There was this whole media frenzy about how France was evil for not supporting the wars (I think) and there was a campaign to rename french fries to "freedom fries". I kid you not. This was a serious issue.

Right before 2001 there was this kind of air that we in the US were moving towards a brighter future. And seeing that so suddenly ripped away and such cruelty treated as so normal and mundane is something that stays with me to this day and I still feel like I can't describe just how bizarre it was.

Post 9/11 Trivia

Most folks on this site were either children on September 11, 2001, or weren’t even born yet.  But America went crazy for about a year afterwards.  Here’s some highlights that I remember that might not be in your history books:

There was national discussion on whether or not Halloween should be canceled because…fuck if I know why.  After planes crashed into buildings in NYC it follows that 6-year-olds in Iowa shouldn’t be allowed to dress up like Batman and ask their neighbors for candy, I guess.  (Halloween wasn’t canceled, by the way.)

On a similar note, people asked if comedy - any sort of comedy - was appropriate anymore, ever.

People sold shitty parachutes to suckers “in case your building gets attacked and you have to jump out the window.” There were honest-to-God news reports warning people not to jump out of the window with shitty mail-order parachutes because they wouldn't work.

As a follow-up to the attacks, someone mailed anthrax to some prominent politicians and news anchors - you know, famous people - along with some badly-written notes about “you cannot stop us, death to America, Allah is good” and after that every time some random dumbass found a package in the mail they didn’t recognize they thought that the terrorists were targeting them, too.

Everyone was similarly convinced that their town was going to be the next target, even if they were a little town in the middle of nowhere. "Our town of Bumblefuck, South Dakota (population 690) has the largest styrofoam pig statue west of the Mississippi! Terrorists might fly planes into that too! It's a prime target!"

People started taping up their windows and trying to make their houses or apartments airtight out of fear of chemical and biological attacks. There were news reports warning people that turning your house into an airtight box was a bad idea because, y'know, you need air to breathe.

"[X] supports terrorism!" and “if we do [X], the terrorists win!” were used as arguments for everything.  "Some rich Arab you never heard of donated to his organization that backs Hamas which backs al-Queda, and also owns stock in a holding company that has partial ownership of the Pringles company, so if you eat Pringles you're supporting terrorism!" "The terrorists want to tear down our freedoms and our way of life and rule us through fear! Eating what you want is one of our freedoms as Americans! If you're afraid to eat Pringles, the terrorists win!" (I promise you that this sort of argument is in no way hyperbole.) (This argument is how Halloween was saved, by the way.  “If we cancel Halloween, the terrorists win!”)

People worked 9/11 into everything, and I mean everything, whether it was appropriate or not.  If you went to the grocery store the tortilla chips would remind you to support the troops on the packaging. Used car sales would be dedicated to our brave first responders. You couldn't wipe your ass without the toilet paper rolls reminding you to never forget the fallen of 9/11, and again, this is not hyperbole. My uncle, who lived in Ohio and had never been to New York except to visit once in the 70′s, died of a stroke about 8 months after 9/11, and the priest brought up the attacks at the eulogy.

On a similar local note, on the day of 9/11, after the towers went down, gas stations in my home town immediately jacked up gas prices.  The mayor had the cops go around and force them to take them back down.  I doubt any of that was legal.

Before 9/11, Christianity in America - and religion in general - was on a downward swing, with reddit-tier atheism on the upswing. Religion was outdated superstition from a bygone age. The day after 9/11? Every single church was PACKED.

Besides dumb shit like that…it’s really hard to overstate how completely the national mood and character changed in the span of a day, or how much of the current culture war is a result of the aftermath. (9/11 was the impetus for the sharp rise in power of the Evangelical Right, who made themselves utterly odious and the following backlash helped the rise of the current Progressive Left, for instance.)

[angel-archivist]

No One: *breathes* Your Tags: *just don’t show up for me* but ooo I love Orion, just trying to vibe, definitely feel that one. does Orion have any particular backstory or anything that just makes Orion stand out to you?

When he was little he used to be scared of this old radio his grandfather had. It would sit in the corner of his grandfathers garage untouched and covered with dust. His grandfather used to be work on a radio show back in the *waves my hand* olden days and despite his fond memories of working there he couldn't bare to have the radio in the house, but couldn't bare to get rid of it either. His grandfathers house was near a forest since they had lived in connecticut for awhile and before the time of his grandads death he lived in the same house. His granddad had put it in its head that it was powerful. Orion was always just super into the supernatural but at a point when he got to college realized that, it probably wasn't real. He got an english degree and was all set to start teaching at a local high school when his granddad died, he went to his funeral (he loved his grandfather so he put up with seeing his mom) and then helped to clean out his house thats when he found out he’d been left the radio. He brought it back to his place and that when the strangeness started, that's when he first heard the station. 

[icewindandboringhorror]

...time for the best holiday song! 

[harcove]

Hii could u write for billy x reader where reader is part of the hellfire club? Like she's a metalhead and plays dnd and stuff, i rlly can't see how billy would end up with someone like that

A/N: sorry this took a bit, I've been going btwn writing multiple things and ya aaaa I hope this is okay love! Honestly, I personally think Billy could find himself being with most anyone- it all depends!

Pairing: Billy x Hellfire!reader

Length: 2.3k

Warnings: nah, but I'll keep saying OOC Billy so no one tells me my characterization of him is wrong 🤡

(Not So) Polar Opposites

Billy hated having to be back at the school after hours; the sun had set and there were only a few cars in the lot besides his Camaro. If it weren't for you, he wouldn't have been there.

Billy always picked you up Thursday nights from the school. It was Hellfire Club night, DnD night, the night where you wouldn't drive home with him from school because you were staying back to help prepare for the DnD campaign you were part of.

Hellfire Club wasn't something Billy gave a shit about. It was your thing, a thing that you'd been in before he even arrived in Hawkins. And sadly, it was something that dictated your social standing as being something of a 'freak.'

It didn't stop Billy Hargrove from setting his sights on you however.

Billy was at the top of the social hierarchy that engulfed Hawkins High. What he did, what he said, people ate it up. People like Carol and Tommy. Did they have things to say about you and the Hellfire Club when he showed an interest in you? Yeah. Did he give a fuck? No. And he was sure to let them know that their opinions in his life didn't matter. And to keep your name out of their mouths.

And by proxy, the Hellfire Clubs name. At least when he was around to hear it.

Sure, he didn't get it. He didn't get the whole deal with Dungeons and Dragons. Didn't get what the point of the game was and definitely didn't fucking get what the hell you wrote on those sheets of paper you'd sometimes work on at his house. 'Character sheets,' is what you'd say whenever he asked what the fuck they were.

It went right over his head.

But you enjoyed it. You had fun going to those DnD nights in the school, and enjoyed spending time with the members of Hellfire Club. You especially enjoyed it because your best friend, Eddie Munson, was the head of the club.

Billy knew Eddie Munson.

Not that he spoke to him in school; Billy rarely ever stayed at the school during lunch periods to see you at the table with the other Hellfire members, and he never had reason to just speak to them or him. Most of his time spent with you was outside of or after school.  Save for the fact Eddie was the drug dealer he dealt with. If he wanted weed, it was Eddie Munson he'd get it from.

So, they were on an even groundwork there.

No matter how bizarre it seemed to anyone else that Billy Hargrove was dating you, it didn't matter to him. He wasn't scared of losing his status as the top dog. The guy who scared others, who was the Keg King. He had worse things in his life to worry about. And perhaps, the fact that he didn't care so much is what kept him right where he was.

He liked it.

Where the two of you differed vastly in your free time activity (him enjoying going to a party, you enjoying the fantastical game of DnD) you also had similarities that bound you together as tight as your opposite interests.

You enjoyed metal music; Billy also enjoyed metal music. It was nice to find that he didn't need to change the radio station because you hated the loud music he wanted to play, because you wanted to hear it too. And aside from partying, Billy actually did enjoy simpler things, particularly sitting in his room on his bed reading something. It wasn't something people expected, but when had Billy ever been predictable? You happened to like a good book as well.

So as bizarre as the two of you may have seemed on the outside, you actually clicked quite well together- like two pieces of a puzzle.

But you were taking a real long time finishing up your session, and it grinded on Billy's gears. He just hated being in that school more than he actually had to, even if it was for you. He wasn't mad at you. Maybe mad at the school for even existing in front of him. And for DnD for cutting into time he could be pulling you close.

Fingers tapping on the wheel of his car, Billy let's out an annoyed sigh. Scorpians playing from his cars radio, he moves his body slightly, making the leather of the seat squeak. It's twenty minutes past when you usually finish your session and come outside.

Usually you're quick to come out and greet him. There have been times where you've run a little over time, but those times Billy wasn't as in much of a mood as he was then. And usually it didn't take you more than 10 minutes.

He'd just have to go in there and get you himself. That's what he concluded. He knew you sometimes lost sense of time especially when you were having a good time. It was like wrangling his sister sometimes; but he was pretty sure Max sometimes liked to conveniently "forget the time" because it would annoy him. You never did that.

At least, he was pretty sure you didn't.

With another heavy sigh, albeit this one sounded more annoyed than the last, Billy pulls the key out of the ignition shutting the his car off, stepping out with one feet heavy on the gravel taking a few moments before pulling the rest of his body out; like he's being forced against his will to do this.

No one could force him to do this. But that didn't mean he wasn't allowed to still feel a bit ticked off.

He knows the room you have your sessions in. It's a drama classroom, with a small stage (compared to an actual stage) in a bigger than average classroom. It didn't have a bunch of chairs and desks because, well, it was a drama room. Most of the activities in their didn't require students to sit for an hour.

So it isn't hard for him to reach it in a matter of minutes. The door is slightly ajar and he can hear the lot of you inside, laughing and shouting.

"I can't believe you rolled that at the end," he recognized your voice, it sounded like you were on the edge of a laugh, one of happiness and disbelief, "like, seriously."

"What can I say, but you're welcome for saving the day."

Billy doesn't recognize the voice fully, he doesn't even really care to figure it out; he never spoke to any of the Hellfire members aside from you and and Eddie Munson (barely).

Instead, Billy chooses to wait a few moments as you laugh, continuing your banter. He's not going to knock on the slighy ajar door, that's stupid. So after a few more moments, he's pushing against the door to open it fully. It creaks when he does, announcing him before his own presence is noticed.

"Billy!" You notice him first, before anyone else really does. You always notice him, "what are you doing here?"

In your hands is one of his jean jackets, one you borrowed that morning; the fall weather had been more bitter than you realized that morning. He took it off and gave it to you with the most dramatic eyeroll he could muster. You rush towards him. Being close is all you want.

Billy looks at you, then looks at the watch on his wrist, as if he was really reading it; it was more for the dramatics.

"Just thought I'd see if the school was doing good tonight, y'know?" He's being sarcastic clearly, "I just... Love it here."

You turn your head to look at the clock in the room, noting the time; twenty minutes past when you were supposed to meet him outside.

Awkwardly, you wince and shoot him an apologetic look, smiling at him. You can see it in his eyes; he's not actually too angry with you.

He finds it hard to look at you, happy, enjoying yourself and smiling how you do, and be angry. Annoyed maybe for the wait, but that too slowly dissipates when he looks at you.

Not completely, but just enough.

You act as some sort of balm for his emotions, the bad ones, and an irritant (meant in the best way possible of coutse) for the good ones, amplifying them by just being near.

"I'm sorry," you offer up, genuinely sorry. You don't like keeping Billy waiting, not because you're scared of him or you're doing things on his time- but because you know his father. And you know the times he comes home can set his father off.

And he did this without you asking.

"Mmm... Next time you can walk."

He says it but he doesn't mean it, he wouldn't let you walk home alone late. His voice gives him away too. But maybe it's only obvious to you.

Rather than giving him a response you only smile at him, closing the distance fully between the two of you and wrapping your arms around his torso.

"Ah, Hargrove," Eddie Munson makes his presence known; he always seemed to be bright in a room- he knew how to get people to look hid way.

So did Billy.

"To what do we owe the pleasure?" Eddie bows dramatically. His face plastered with a smirk as he looks between you and Billy who now has a single arm across your shoulders as you keep your arms wrapped around him.

"Munson," his fingers are pressing into your shoulder and his cologne (which you had been privy to all day anyways because of the jean jacket) just smells so much nicer on the man himself than just on his jean jacket, "the pleasure is hers actually."

There's a deeper meaning to that, you know it. A sexual one, most likely. Especially based on the way Eddie cocks an eyebrow when he stands up fully, his smirk widening only slightly

"If he gives you trouble, let me know Lady Ironbark," Eddie uses your Dungeons and Dragons characters last name as he moves around the table to pick up some things, "not sure what I can do against the beast bit, it's the thought that counts."

Billy doesn't take him seriously and you're glad for that. Because if he decided to, you weren't sure you'd like the outcome.

Initially things had been more tense between the two. One being your best friend and the other being Hawkins High schools king after taking it from Steve. Billy was in the perfect spot to beat Eddie down, bully him and the other members like yourself of Hellfire. But he didn't.

Surprisingly, Billy didn't go around bullying people just to have fun. Or just because he could. In reality, Billy avoided interaction people, needless interaction he cared little about the people in Hawkins. But if they just so chose to cross his path or do something to set him off? Well, that would do it. It wasn't like he actively went out of his way to say words to random kids in the hallway.

"...Lady Ironbark?"

Billy says it flat. And really it sounds kind of funny coming out of his lips.But he does recognize the name; how could he not, when he's sat there before and just let you run off about your character for the current campaign.

"My character for this campaign," you respond- thinking he has forgotten about it, but he really hasn't.

It seems like a lot of times the information you give him sometimes just goes in one ear and out the other. It's just how Billy seems. Like he's not listening, but in reality, he retains all of the things you tell him inside his head. And it will be at moments where you least expect it that he will say the things you think hes forgotten.

"I know," he says, unhooking his arm from around you and pulling away to take a cigarette from his jacket pocket, placing it between his lips, "and you can tell me all about them again, in the car, on the way home."

Billy is itching to leave the school; again, the less time he needed to spend there the better.

"Okay," you smile, a genuine and big smile, turning to look at Eddie and the few straggler members from Hellfire finishing packing things up, "I'll see you guys at lunch tomorrow!"

A chorus of see you tomorrow and good nights come from the boys, and you turn to follow Billy out of the room.

"Put that on," he's already lighting the cigarette in his mouth before the two of you have even exited the school; his chin juts towards his jean jacket in your arms, "It's bitter as fuck out. And you're not getting two of my fuckin' jackets in one day babe, no matter how good you look in them."

Giggling, you pull the jacket on, Billy taking your bag lazily and throwing it over his back in one hand, not caring about being gentle with it. He keeps walking.

"I'm sorry again by the way," he pushes the door open with his hip to exit the school, you hot on his tail, "about being late. I'll make it up to you by letting you play your favourite music in the car on the way to my place."

It's funny because, one, you think you're going to dictate what he plays in his car (sometimes you do but its his car) and two, because you literally like the same kind of music. So it's not really making anything up.

"Whatever."

You know he's got a small tilt to his lips. And you know he's not mad. You know he's going to keep picking you up even if its annoying sometimes. And you know he loves you and you love him.

Even if you're (not so) polar opposites.

[chemicallywrit]

Oh I got those!

Gabriella & the Inn Between - a young college grad takes a job at a magical inn to pay off her student loans, and this is her podcast about it

The Cryptonaturalist - a wandering scientist’s podcast about the cryptids he meets on his adventures

Echoes (In) Between - starts off as a podcast about mindfulness using a new technique from a scientist friend of the hosts and turns into a bizarre scifi thing, it rules

Elaine’s Cooking for the Soul - a cooking show, live from the apocalypse, hosted by dentist Elaine and whoever stumbles into her hideout, using whatever food she can scrounge. Strangely heartwarming.

It Makes a Sound! - a woman comes home to care for her ailing mother and tries to recapture a piece of her childhood that changed her forever. The music on this show is great.

Josie’s Lonely Hearts Club - a call-in radio show about folks with romantic problems. This one’s new, and partially improvised so it gets real silly.

Superhuman Public Radio - are you ever listening to NPR and think to yourself “i wish i could hear NPR in the MCU”? Great news! This show is so smart in the way it spoofs the medium but it hits like a real news show.

Conference Call - this one’s framed as an investigative podcast into a financial scandal, a startup being absolutely exploded by mismanagement and idiocy. It is super cringey but in a way that’s hard to look away from. I kind of love it.

Stories from Ylelmore - a podcast about three kid sleuths investigating the happenings in their magical town. An absolute Delight and so well made.

Gastronaut - foodie (derogatory) Oscar Yasui’s travelogue about his adventures through the galaxy. This one gets really heavy really fast, but it’s so good.

Night Shift: An Urban Fantasy Audio Drama - join Sebastian Fen as he tries to uncover the secrets of magic, crime, and capitalism in Echor City. This one is what I like to call Fake True Crime, it has that flavor.

Monstrous Agonies - an advice segment from the Night Folk Network, a radio station for the monsters and cryptids of the world. Like a warm hug.

Solutions to Problems - another advice show, sci-fi flavored, coming to you from a human and an alien host on a space station. So funny, omg

Kaleidotrope - two radio hosts with completely different styles forced to host a college radio hour together. And it’s a romance! And it’s so cute.

Murray Mysteries - for the tumblr user who needs even more dracula! A modern dracula retelling framed as a podcast, very queer, very well written

Arden - more fake true crime! Each season is a new mystery to solve by hosts Brenda and Bea. And it’s also. Shakespeare. They’re shakespeare retellings. It’s brilliant.

This Sounds Serious - fake true crime, this one a completely deadpan comedy. VERY funny.

Kakos Industries - this one’s a little different, it’s the audio newsletter of a corporation, but the corporation in question is in the business of doing the most evil possible. Maybe the funniest thing I’ve ever listened to?

Beef and Dairy Network - the radio show for folks involved (or just interested in) the industry of beef animals and dairy herds. It is absolutely unhinged. Just listen to an episode. Any episode. You’ll see.

Can any of the audio drama folks help me out

I'm looking for podcast recommendations that specifically fall into the framing device of fictional radio show/in-universe podcast (similar to Welcome to Night Vale or what I've heard of WOE.BEGONE).

For context, I've just listened to The Kareem Nazari Show episode of wtnv and I have a hankering for more of that vibe

[chaos-grimlin]

Just A Radio Girl (Chop-top Sawyer x Reader) chapter 2

Intro:over the last 13 years over and over again reports of bizarre, grisly chain-saw mass-murders have persisted all across the state of Texas, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre has not stopped. It haunts Texas..and it seems to not have a end... till...the cannibalistic family comes across a brave Radio station dj who ends up making one of the family members fall in love with her

Word count:1040

_Burkburnett Texas_

Y/n stood in her DJ room, dancing and swaying to the music, drinking her soda, while L.Q fiddled with something in his room.

Y/n  pressed the button on her DJ stand and moved closer to the microphone"WOOO! it is 8:11, Texas-time on a Friday night.I know nobody's listening because y'all are all zooming, BUT I got a shot of hot Rock 'n' Roll for you anyway!" Y/n said with a smile as she popped in the recording and as soon as she did the phone rang.

Y/n gently lifted the phone before pressing it to her ear. "K-OKLA, Red River Rock 'n' Roll Requests this is Y/n ready to fulfil all your music needs!" Y/n said as she twirled the phone line cord around her pointer finger but stopped once she heard that all to recognizable giggling.

"What it is, Y/n? This is the Buzz again" the harsh more intoxicated voice growled out.

_in their carrr_

"Oh! Not this againnnn! Hang it up douchebags go call your parents, aggravate them for once before the die assholes" Y/n hissed out over the phone.

The two guys laughed as one of them chugged another beer. "Yeah, yeah talk dirty, This is for Rick the Prick! He wants to hear Bright lights Big Tiddies!" The driver said loudly as he laughed.

"WRONG!" the drivers buddy screeched out as he grabbed the phone. "I dont wanna hear it! I wanna seeeeee it! BRIGHT LIGHTS AND BIGGGGG TIDDIES!" the man said with a horrid laugh as he lazily held the pistol.

"Damn, L.G, L.G please get in here!" Y/n called out, but the boys could hear her. "Oooo whos L.GGGG!?" The driver chanted out, but Y/n ignored him.

The two boys laughed loudly as they swerved on the streets, till….bright headlights turned on a yard in front of them, and the drivers smile faltered as he slowed slightly as the car cut them off, making them stop. 

“What the fuck?” The guy with the gun slurred out as he tried to look to see who was in the truck that cut them off, but he could make out who it was.”ARE YOU CRAZY?!”The driver yelled at the truck driver. The driver of the truck soon backed up only slightly “FULLY BACKUP PIG FUCKER!” The driver yelled, yelling so loudly his face turned a light shade of red.

The truck soon did back up..

The two in the car sped off, driving recklessly again as the driver looked back at the truck, who was following them. “Come on! Hurry up! Get outta here!” The guy with the gun said.

“They gotta hang up!” A male voice over the phone said."Come on! Hang up!” Y/n said to the two boys. “Step on it!” The guy with the gun said to the driver. “Shit! What the fuck?!” as the boys said that, those words marked the starting of their nightmare.

The truck drove beside them and as it did, the boys looked out the window and saw a decomposing body, which seemed to be screaming and yelling while holding a chainsaw stuck itself out of the truck window.

“AH WHAT THE HELL IS THAT!?!” The driver screamed out in horror as his eyes watched the road and the body.  “COME ON WHAT IS THAT!?” the other man screamed as he eyed the body as it seemed to dance slightly. “SHIT COME ON! GET OUT OF HERE!” the man added. “Where did he come from?!” The driver screamed out.

“I don't believe this shit!” The driver added as he put more pressure on the gas pedal. “JUST KEEP DRIVING!” The man whined out.  The driver frantically looked from his friend, to the road, to the body. He felt sobered up, like all of this had scared him so much the beer left his system. “HEY LETS GO COME ON!!” The man added, he wanted to get out of here and fast. “What the hell is that!” The driver asked again. 

“OH GOD WHAT'S HE DOING!?” The driver screamed as the body held up the chainsaw and then started pulling the cord on it, trying to get it to start. “GOD DAMN IT!!” the driver screamed…little did they know Y/n was still on the call. “WHAT'S HE GOT THERE!?” The drivers buddy screamed.  “JESUS CHRIST!!!” They both screamed out as the chainsaw started up. “WHAT?!” The driver said frantically.  “COME ON WHAT IS THAT!?” The other man said as he started to almost cry. “I DONT BELIEVE THIS SHIT" The driver added.

“Oh god oh god oh god!” The man screamed as the body lifted the chainsaw over its head. The driver kept a shaky hand on the wheel as he watched the road and the body.  “SHIT!”  “COME ON GET OUTTAAA HEEREEEE!HES GOT A FUCKING CHAINSAWWWW” The buddy cried out.

_Burkburnett Texas_

Y/n stood there, wide eyed, her mouth open as L.G unplugged cords. She heard screaming on the other side of the line along with a buzzing sound. “That sounds like a buzz saw!” L.G said over his microphone. “Buzz saw?” Y/n said as he brows knitted together confused as she looked at L.G.  “Hey..Hang up man..this isn't a joke anymore..” Y/n said through the phone, hoping the boys heard her. “HANG UP BEFORE I CALL THE POLICE THIS ISN'T FUNNY! HANG UPPPPP”  she yelled, jumping up and down as she did. 

“SHOOT THE BASTARD!!!” A male voice screeched out over the phone. Y/n looked at L.G who was equally as confused as she was. A few seconds later, Y/n heard screaming followed by a gunshot, then more screaming, but not fun screams of happyness but screams of fear.

The screams go louder and they were followed by deep, angry unnatural screeches..

Y/n got lost in the noises, she wasnt even trying to tell them to hang up, at this point, she was worried…what in the fuck was going on on the other side of the line?

The noises blended together but one thing stood out the most. The sound of something dripping on the phone and screams that sounded sad, scared, and hopeless, a scream no one on this planet wanted to hear...

[creweemmaeec11]

Villain X Hero Writing Prompt- Today is the Villain's birthday but due to a bad memory accosiated with it (and because the villain is kinda lonely) they dont celebrate. The villain has a battle with the hero with the hero merging victorious, kidnapping the villain. The villain thinks they've been kidnapped for information however the hero made made dinner and got a meaningful gift for the villain. Have fun with this prompt!

I love this concept. Villains being surprised with pleasantries is everything♡ I know I didn't quite get to the present part, but it felt like the right place to cut it off. I also just realized I kinda forgot about the "for information" part, oops. also I'm so sorry this took so long!

As if their day couldn't suck any more than it already did, the villain had to go and top it off with losing in a fight with the city's hero.

Could this day get *any* worse?

They were handcuffed in the back of the hero's police car, driving through the city, towards the city jail, just like they had so many times before.

The villain had escaped jail multiple times, so this wasn't much more than a large inconvenience for them, at least it would have been, had it happened on *any* other day.

The criminal in question had gone out to avoid sitting at home alone with their thoughts today. Having to sit alone with their thoughts in a jail cell was an even worse option.

Letting out a deep sigh, they flopped back against the seat. Miserable. They just felt miserable. It felt like they couldn't even see colour in the world around them anymore.

"You're much quieter than usual," the hero commented as they drove, "Is something wrong?

"Excuse me‽"

"You're usually more talkative. These drives have never been this quiet before,"

"What do you care?" The villain muttered as they turned to look out the window.

That's when the villain suddenly realized something.

"Wait, we aren't going the right way," the villain blurted out, sitting up straighter suddenly.

The hero in the front seat gave a laugh under their breath, "you only just noticed?"

"This isn't the way to the station or city jail,"

"That would be because we aren't going to the station or city jail,"

The villain felt their throat tighten.

"Where are we going?" The villain asked, trying and failing to sound demanding. There were notes of slight fear. Nerves.

In the rearview mirror, the villain saw the hero glance at them, before their gaze fell back to the road ahead.

They didn't say anything.

"Hero..." the villain tried, "Where are you taking me...?"

"You'll see," was the hummed response.

A feeling of dread settled in their stomach.

Looking out the window, the car was already on the outskirts of the city.

Suddenly the radio was flicked on.

The villain swallowed nervously.

What a day to go out on, of all the 365 to choose from in a year.

After driving for close to half an hour, they were well outside the city and into the surrounding woods, pulling up to what looked like a small cabin.

It wasn't that the villain exactly *blamed* the hero for what they were about to do. Clearly, they'd pushed the other too far, or maybe the hero had finally grown tired of their game of cat and mouse.

This just wasn't how the villain imagined themselves leaving this mortal coil. It was always in a blaze of glory, last stand type of thing.

Still, they couldn't find it in themselves to fight back. Not today. Perhaps it was fate, to be taken out on the same day it all began. Poetic, if not ironic.

The hero got out of the car, straightening themselves and stretching for a moment before turning and opening the back door.

"Are you coming?" The hero asked, before surprisingly taking a step back away from the door so the villain could get out on their own. Not like it mattered, the hero probably knew there was nowhere to run out here now.

"Do I have a choice?" The villain muttered under their breath, looking at the ground.

The hero had the *audacity* to look *surprised* at that. As if they were shocked the villain wasn't jumping with excitement to get this over with.

"Well, I mean... no... I guess... I'd like to think I'm not forcing you but..."

The villain sighed, before swinging their feet out and standing up. Luckily, they'd been cuffed in the front this time, which- now that they thought about it, was also abnormal- but it made it easier to get out of the car on their own.

Still, they felt the hero put a hand under their arm to help steady them -as if polite bedside manner would change anything, only for the villain to shrug them off.

"I'm assuming there's nothing I can say to talk you *out* of doing this, is there?"

"What?" The hero asked in confusion, "What are you talking about?"

"Ya know, pull the whole 'you don't have to do this, I'll be better, I swear' kind of thing?"

"Excuse me-?"

"I mean-" the villain continued. They were rambling now. Maybe the fear was finally fully starting to kick in. The desperation, because they really *didn't* want this. There was no way they'd allow themselves to beg, but- "it would be a lie either way, I guess, despite the fact I probably shouldn't have said that I'm assuming you'd already know anyway, so-"

"Whoa, whoa, slow down," the hero said, placing a hand on the villain's shoulder gently, snapping them out of their spiralling thoughts, "What in the world do you think I brought you out here for?"

The villain rolled their eyes, "At least make it quick, will you? And stop acting oblivious or like I forced your hand. At least own up to what your about to do,"

The other's eyes widened as the final piece clicked into place, "You think-! I'm not gonna kill you-!" They cried in what could have been mistaken for horror.

The criminal furrowed their brows.

"I brought you here to *show* you something, silly!" The hero explained, before stepping forward and unclipping the handcuffs off the villain's wrists.

Said villain's eyes widened, "what‽"

The hero nodded, smiling, "I have a surprise for you,"

"What?!" They asked again.

The hero only nodded excitedly before turning the villain by the shoulders and giving them a gentle push towards the door, "Go on! Look inside!"

The villain glanced at the hero uncertainty before stepping forward toward the cabin.

When they opened the door, they froze on the spot.

It wasn't anything crazy.... the inside looked like any other cabin. Table, chairs, small kitchen and living area with a couch and tv. Warm glowing lights and-

A banner hung from the ceiling that read in large letters "HAPPY BIRTHDAY"

The villain spun around so fast they nearly gave themself whiplash, turning to the hero that had sense come up behind them.

They jumped back slightly, words and air catching in their throat as they gawked at the hero like they'd grown 3 more heads.

Said hero laughed lightheartedly, "Surprise!"

"What..."

It was like that had become the only word in their vocabulary.

"I know it isn't decorated much, but I didn't think you'd like the cliche ribbons and streamers and party hats," they made some jazzhand-like gesture, "I was also going to blindfold you but I didn't think you'd let me do that either,"

The villain could only stare, like their brain couldn't process the words they were hearing.

"I also made dinner, and a cake! Oh! I also have a gift for you too!"

The villain didn't move.

"Oh, and one last thing, I gave up and the fun cliche stuff just for you so I'm gonna make you suck it up and accept a birthday hug,"

"Why..." the villain managed, "why would you..."

"Why not?"

"I don't deserve this, I don't-" their voice cracked.

"Hey," the hero said softly, taking a step forward, "I heard you didn't celebrate, and I couldn't just let that happen. Everyone deserves to have a good birthday,"

The villain couldn't find any words, but the single tear that managed to quickly slip out and down their cheek did all the speaking for them.

The hero gave a small, sympathetic smile before opening their arms.

Nobody moved for a moment, before the villain caved, stepping forward and looking at the ground. They didn't reciprocate, keeping their own arms close to their chest, but allowed the hero to wrap theirs around them.

They'd never realized just how much taller the hero was until they were basically burying their face into the heros collar.

The villain couldn't even bring themselves to care at the moment, because they suddenly felt so safe, which was bizarre, considering how they felt on the way, but here they were.

"I still don't think I deserve this. Especially from you," the villain muttered from where their head was still tucked down against the hero's chest.

"I don't think your qualified for that kind of thinking, considering what you thought you deserved on the way here, which I'm almost offended by, by the way,"

The hero was rewarded with a small laugh.

"So, come on," the hero said before suddenly pulling back. They reached up, gently using their thumb to brush away the tear track on the villains face, "no tears," They reached down, grabbing the villains hand to gently tug them further inside "let's make some better birthday memories,"

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[specialagentartemis]

📓

Something I keep thinking would be fun (and awful, and tragic): writing the last days of the Hermes mission.

I’d probably tell it from Jordan’s viewpoint. Cutter and Pryce unexpectedly show up. What a surprise! They seem very interested on whether Jordan has heard from the Hephaestus recently. Bernoulli is on edge. Do they know what’s wrong with the Hephaestus? Minkowski hasn’t answered for months.

Pryce calls Bernoulli away, and Cutter pulls Jordan away to grill her about anything she’s seen or heard from the Hephaestus. Though she has a weird feeling about all of this, Jordan is honest about the radio silence, the way no messages seem to be getting through. Cutter doesn’t seem interested on the weird and bizarre crises going on on various other ships and stations; he’s singularly focused on the Hephaestus.

Jordan thinks she hears Klein scream somewhere in the distance. Cutter tells her that it’s nothing.

Eventually Cutter sends Jordan to Pryce, and Persephone (the station AI) is straining to tell Jordan something, and Jordan sees Bernoulli and Klein and Birkhoff stiffly trying to escort her to a machine… and when it’s clear what’s going on, that Bernoulli and Klein and Birkhoff aren’t right, that Pryce did something to them, Jordan screams, wriggles away, and bolts. Bullets fly. She runs, frantically, to the comms room, and barricades herself in. There’s banging on the outside of the door. There are gunshots. The door creaks inwards under the barrage.

Jordan desperately sends out a message—“This is Communications Officer Leilani Jordan of the USS Hermes, repeat, this is Jordan on the Hermes, and something is wrong, something is really wrong, Cutter is here and his people did something to Bernoulli and Klein and Birkhoff’s brains and they’re trying to do it to me too, help me, if anyone’s out there send help—“ although of course she knows that no one out there could come in time to help her, no matter how long she holds out…

“Officer Jordan!” Bernoulli says cheerfully outside the door. “Stop hiding, Officer Jordan, it will be easier if you come out!”

Jordan brandishes a gun at the door. “Get away! Get away or I’ll shoot! I mean it!” Her voice and hands are shaking.

“You won’t shoot us, Officer Jordan!” Klein says, equally cheerfully. “We’re your friends!”

“Ignore what she says,” a woman’s crisp, cold voice that sounds so eerily like Persephone, But Evil, says. “Just get the door open.”

”Yes, Dr Pryce,” Bernoulli and Klein say in unison

The gunfire on the other side of the door intensifies…