#I listened to a lot of dark ambient while writing this too
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sophiethatchersource · 3 months ago
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Who do you trust most with the aux? Myself
 or my twin sister Ellie. What’s a song that reminds you of your hometown? “Scatterbrain” by Radiohead I would listen to this on my iPod on repeat. Who is Pivot & Scrape for? Anyone who would like to listen. I don’t like the idea of having a target audience.  What led to your pivot to music? I’ve been making music since I was 14 just by myself. My mom was a piano teacher and I grew up taking voice lessons since I was 9. I started off writing melodies with my omnichord then started using Ableton and experimenting with different sounds and textures.  What makes an iconic bang? A nostalgic melody.  Who are your style icons? Zoe Lund, Beatrice Dalle, Nina Hagen, Lizzy Mercier Decloux, Nastassja Kinski, Anais Nin, the list goes on and on. So many iconic, stylish, and outlandish women out there.  Who is your muse? Stina Nordenstam and Kazu Makino.  Name your favorite artist no one knows about: Grim. Jun Konagaya is a legend and I try to show everyone I know his music. It’s truly magical and from another time. You can find him on YouTube. His solo ambient/experimental work is amazing too. What does your notes app look like? Lyrics that don’t make any sense, me constructing texts to bail on people (I’m very good at that), breakup texts, if you really scroll far back. Basically, any social interaction that gives me anxiety is in there.   Hot Girl Summer or Sad Girl Fall? Funky Monkey Fall. What was your coming-of-age soundtrack? Anything Elliott Smith. I grew up on his music and listened to him every day for about ten years when I was in school. He got me through a lot of times when I felt like a total loner in school.  What was on the moodboard for the “Black and Blue” music video? The canoe scenes from Celine and Julie Go Boating were my biggest influence. I’m a huge fan of Rivette and Berto and anything they do together. The stop motion Wolf House was another huge inspiration on Ellie’s behalf.  What album is playing in heaven? Dark Island by Pram. Best movie-needle drop: “Spoon by Can” in Morvern Caller. Hands down best movie soundtrack.  Favorite song to listen to while lying on the floor? “Trains Across the Sea” by Silver Jews What’s your go-to karaoke song? Anything Carpenters or Pulp. If I’m feeling risquĂ©, I’ll sing something from Cabaret.
Actress-Turned-Musician Sophie Thatcher Endorses Funky Monkey Fall | Sound Advice | Interview
spotify playlist made by sophie
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staysafedontdie · 1 year ago
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I thought I was free of BG3, but I was not.
(sorry Im not using the real app so it's not letting me edit correctly)
So, I made another Redeemed!Durge playthrough.
While my first one was narratively and cognitively dissonant, story-wise (an unusual looking Githyanki Bard, doing serial murdering in Baldur's Gate? Brushing elbows with powerful people? And no one noticed???) I decided to chalk that up to Bhaal being incredibly cocky. He has the old man voice and is much more tired than my current PC.
My goal with this updated playthrough was two-fold:
Make the ultimate Durge - constantly underestimated, can go anywhere, no one bats an eyelash at their presence.
Get Astarion as the first and only companion and using a specific guide (https://reddit.com/r/BaldursGate3/s/visFK1mKzl - top comment), get the scenes that I initially missed. (Most of the companion scenes are tiered/have priority, I think it's a combination of specific character and approval. Most often Astarion's scenes get overwritten by Shadowheart, Lae'zel, or Gale.)
So, my new character is a Female Half-Elf Bard (Sword Bard OP), with more traditionally Elven features, tanned skin, freckles, and light brown hair with a bit of blonde from sun-bleaching. She looks like the personification of the sun. Someone who's never gone a day without.
But she's also pretty, and forgettable -which is the important part. Other than the shattered dagger throat tattoo, a scar over her lips and the dagger earrings, she's just the girl next door. And since she's slight in build, she's constantly underestimated. It made for quick work to lure people to their doom.
the WORST part is that I've been writing blurbs between playing.
I've written over /16,000/ words. On my phone. Mostly idling in game, headphones on, listening to the ambient music. Or laying in bed. It's not even edited, it's just terrible stream of consciousness stuff.
I call the story collection 'Brief Moments in Time' and one of them involves my Half-Elf, Lysithea, having a core memory unlocked when Astarion is spouting lines at her during the Tiefling Party. Turns out she not only LIKES pick up lines, but also COLLECTS them. They were very useful for luring people to their deaths - like a less sexy version of what Astarion used to do for Cazador.
Here's the little memory flashback I have for her. The ending lines are meant to invoke that moment with the dying Mind Flayer you find at the crash site in Act 1. (Compassion??)
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The settings are vague, but the bustling environment must be a local tavern. She’s sipping ale quietly from a table that has a strategic vantage point. The occasional scratching of a quill in a book accompanies her gaze, making sure to take notes on would be targets.
But just over by the bar, she hears a drunken man say a fun pick-up line a little too loudly. Like Astarion she used whatever means she had to lure people away to their doom, and she pays attention to the honeyed words to try and see if they’ll be of some use to her.
“Are you a Gelatinous Cube? Because I feel like this encounter is going to end up with me inside you.”
Past the rage and the darkness that consume her, there’s a small bubble of
 joy.
Joy?
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And then she spends the next little bit spouting lines at Astarion, which he rather likes because she calls him beautiful. And it's nice to be on the receiving end of such attention every now and again.
She's also aware the entire time he's using her, but doesn't care. She's got no sense of who she is, beyond a few small things, so she's using him as well for companionship and to help curb the urge and build new memories. After all, they're a lot alike.
UGH I JUST CANT STOP WRITING LITTLE GARBAGE THINGS ALL THE TIME. I HAVE BEEN CONSUMED. NOTHING REMAINS BUT BG3. please help me 😭
BUT!!
...In the future I want to do a Wyll run where I romance Karlach because I heard he goes with her at the end to Avernus anyway and they're so sweet to each other đŸ„č
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linawritestwst · 2 years ago
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Hi lina!! đŸ˜…đŸ’‹đŸŽ¶ for the ask game please! And remember to drink some water!
hi taru!! and thanks for the reminder <3
😅 "What's a story or scene you've created that you're a smidge embarrassed exists?"
.. tbh i find a lot of the scenes/stories i write embarrassing 😭😭 but i think i would probably choose my first twst x reader headcanons, like the "twst characters reacting to your love confession" series and some other posts because those were my very first x reader works and i didn't really know what i was doing back then. some of my "darker" works make me feel a bit 😅😅 too, because i feel like.. idk, like they're too "ooc" for someone like me? :'D i think i'm more known for softer headcanons, so i always feel like i'm breaking some kind of rule when i post something more scary. which is why i go crazy on my oc blogs
💋 "First kiss fics. Love em or hate em?"
i love those! i think they're very cute :) i'd love to write something like that one day!
đŸŽ¶ "Do you listen to music while you write? What song have you been playing on loop lately?"
i do! it's impossible for me to write anything without music jdksdklsls though i also write while i'm in class sometimes. the music i listen to usually depends on my mood or the vibe of the story i'm writing, though most of the time it's just something i want to listen to at the moment, like i remember that there was one time when i had to write something like savanaclaw kissing headcanons but i was actually listening to a dark electronic music playlist the whole time 😭 and yeah, most of the time i listen to something like dark ambient music or game soundtracks!
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thisaintascenereviews · 10 months ago
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Drown In Sulphur - Dark Secrets Of The Soul
Blackened deathcore has seemingly taken the world by storm after Lorna Shore made it cool on 2022’s Pain Remains, an album that has taken the last two years to grow on me. Lorna Shore was always a relatively popular band in the genre, but with the addition of Will Ramos of A Wake In Providence fame (another deathcore band that’s helped to shape the sound currently), they got popular almost overnight and Pain Remains became a game changer. When you have a band or sound become popular, and in this case, Lorna Shore’s brand of symphonic blackened deathcore that goes over the top in all the best ways, other bands are going to jump on the train, for better or worse. Italian deathcore band Drown In Sulphur is one of those bands, but they’ve been around for a few years already. They dropped their debut in 2021, but I’ve only heard of them since their new album, Dark Secrets Of The Soul, just came out. I was curious about it, based on the idea that these guys take deathcore and a Cradle Of Filth / Dimmu Borgir approach to their brand of black metal, having a more symphonic and synth-laden sound.
I’ve given their new one a handful of listens, and honestly, this record is a lot of fun. It’s not quite going to be one of my favorites of the year, at least in my list itself, but I could see this being an honorable mention maybe. Nonetheless, Dark Secrets is a solid album that takes deathcore and combines it with grandiose symphonics and synths. It’s nothing super unique, especially the deathcore elements of their sound, but it’s a fun record. They do what they do well, and that’s all you need sometimes. If anything, their black metal elements are what makes them interesting, but the deathcore sound they have is cool, too. It’s well done, and this record has some sick breakdowns that pop up from time to time. It does have a few slight issues, even aside from the deathcore elements being nothing to write home about, but having a generic sound doesn’t bother me.
What does bother me, albeit slightly, is having really unnecessary interludes, introductions, and outros that don’t add anything or do anything remotely interesting, and this record is chock full of them. Aside from having a really unnecessary and forgettable introduction that adds nothing of value to the album, there are a few interludes that sound like every generic acoustic, symphonic, and ambient interlude you’ve ever heard. Even a lot of the breakdowns, while they sound good, they leave me wanting more, because they’re just so generic and bland. This album sort of reminds me of McDonald’s, at least in the sense that it’s cheap, quick, and good in the moment, but you’re not finding yourself always wanting it, or even thinking about it afterwards.
This band has potential, and I think that’s the biggest takeaway I’ve got from this album. You can hear it, especially when they go more into black metal, and while their deathcore elements are good, they lack any lasting value. They don’t make it interesting or unique enough, let alone execute well it enough to the point where I can forgive it. They do what they do well, at least to a degree, and a lot of stuff here is good. Their vocalist has a nice roar when it comes to deathcore, and a nasty snarl when it comes to black metal. I wish they would lean more into black metal, versus just symphonics here and there, but it’s when the band excels. Give us more of that, and these guys can be one of the most successful newer deathcore bands out there, but in the meantime, there are bands doing this sound better, or at the very least, a little more interestingly. The seeds are there for something more unique, so time will tell if these guys get better and get more ambitious, or if they just follow the crowd and want to make generic blackened deathcore.
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whoperlokian-bendingismagic · 4 years ago
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New Short Story
Distance is a funny thing. Or rather, perception of distance is a funny thing. Human brains can really truly understand distances of up to about ten miles. Anything longer than that and it’s just math. Driving down a road, if you have 240 miles left and you’re going eighty miles per hour, you have three hours of driving left. You don’t really know what that means, though. It’s just ticking on a clock, and going from landmark to landmark, if there even are landmarks to use. The human mind is always approximating, always recalculating sensory inputs based on past experience It only knows what it’s been designed to know.
Never trust your own mind if you have instruments. Instruments first. If there’s no instruments then don’t trust your two-second gut. Trust your two-minute gut.
I grew up in the Eastern Urban Complex. The night sky was nothingness, a velvety black backdrop to a million lights and and towering buildings stretching up and over.
My parents saved up for a vacation. A proper one outside of the urban complex, not just a trip to a different borough where you didn’t have to do the cooking or cleaning for a week. We went when I was 10. We took a train that had no windows. Passengers who had never lived outside the city experienced agoraphobia and severe confusion. It was better to entertain everybody with screens, caused less panic. The train was luxurious. The chair was comfortable, we were served delicious food by pretty ladies in tidy uniforms and gleaming smiles, their hats perched just so over their immaculate hair.
We took the train out of the city and all the way to the end of the line. If you asked me how many miles we traveled on the train ride, I would have told you about fifty. I looked up how far the trip actually was years later. It was more like seven hundred miles.
Distance is relative. Distance is perception and perception is false. Check your instruments, check them again. If the numbers seem wrong to you check the backups. It’s probably you that’s wrong, though.
As I stepped out of the station, I found the world too big, too open, and I suddenly felt too small. There were people there to help us get acclimated. Focus on ourselves, then let our senses explore this alien experience of openness, of distance, of the desert. We got into a car and were driven out towards the mountains. We couldn’t see the mountains from the train station, but that was what my parents told me. We were driving towards the mountains. I’d never seen mountains in person. I’d looked at pictures in a book, though. I’d heard they were big. When we crested a hill and could suddenly see the mountains, I shrieked. They were coming right up on us and we were going to crash into them.
My parents shushed me, but the driver chuckled and said that was a pretty typical response. Of course, we didn’t crash into the mountains, they were still miles away, and as we got closer, the slopes became gentler, smoother as we got closer, and the road climbed up through a canyon between two peaks. The trees changed. The Eastern Urban Complex has trees in its thousands of pocket parks between buildings, shady trees with broad green leaves that turn golden and orange and red in the fall. The trees here had needles. Very little grew beneath the trees, and the dirt felt more like dust than anything.
We finally got out of the car at a retreat. There were a series of buildings situated around a bigger building. THey were all built out of logs. My mom told me the smaller buildings were called cabins, and the bigger one was called a lodge. I had read about cabins before but didn’t think they looked quite like that.
Perception and reality are often at odds. Instrumentation distills reality into digestible pieces of information we can use to modify our perception to match reality. The instrument says I’ve been “here” for two days, but that feels wrong too. I don’t have any backups to cross-check, though.
 There were other children my age there that I played with, trails to hike, a forest to explore and rocks to climb. I don’t remember a lot of details from my time there. I couldn’t tell you the color of the sheets on the cozy bed. I couldn’t tell you what meals we ate, or the names of the children I played with. There’s a distinct smell, one of dust and pine trees that’s locked in my mind, though, and there’s my first sight of the true night sky. 
My parents let me stay up late, and we would go out and look at the night sky. It was practically littered with stars, big and small. I’d never thought of the sky as an object before. I thought that maybe if I got a good 50-foot ladder, I could climb to the top of that and touch the stars from there.
Examine your thoughts. Why are you thinking what you’re thinking? What’s the basis? Answer these questions honestly to yourself and to others, it can save your life, your crew, and your mission.
That experience planted something deep in me and I strove to find a way to touch the sky. A 50-foot ladder is hard to come by, but if you really want to touch the sky, you need a fusion drive. The best way to get a fusion drive is to join the Naval Scientific Exploration Team, NSET, pronounced “enset” for short. 
I poured myself into my studies. I had never been a slack student, but with a distinct goal in mind I became great. I studied general spaceship engineering and navigation. NSET only takes the best and brightest, so I fought to prove that I was good enough. 
There was an experiment, or demonstration done on every NSET cadet after they were accepted. We were asked a series of “true or false” questions with only a second to answer each one. “An object released in Earth’s atmosphere will fall to the ground”, “Magnets attract opposite poles”, “A ball thrown will approximate a circular trajectory”, Easy, true, true, false.
“The earth revolves around the sun” false. “Orbiting objects experience gravity” false. “The world is flat” true. We all knew the correct answers to those more difficult questions, but without time to think, we grabbed for the convenient, intuitive answer. Answers that are convenient or intuitive are not by definition correct. They are, however, easy to fall prey to, because they fit so neatly into a caveman view of the world. 
Cavemen have never traveled through space, though. Cavemen have never traveled at a million kilometers an hour, or measured distances in light-minutes. Cavemen were never one mistake away from their entire support environment vanishing in a cloud of twisted metal and shattered ceramic. Cavemen never watched their friends desperately fight against nothing and be pulled apart from each other by first order kinematic equations, enacted ignoring losses due to air resistance or friction. At NSET academy, we watched tapes collected from black boxes from early manned explorations deep into the solar system. I can’t sleep sometimes thinking about the panic and terror flooding those people as they were ripped from their venting ship and out into space.
So we had it drilled into our heads that we were unreliable, that trusting our gut could be catastrophic. The first practical exercise in the NSET training program is called “the egg”. It’s a sensory deprivation tank. You feel weightless, with no light, no ambient temperature, no sound. It starts by feeling liberating. The mind is free to wander, to contemplate anything. People outside NSET use sensory deprivation tanks as a meditation aid or a brain-booster, but they get to control when they leave. The Egg isn’t something you pay for, or do to enhance your mind, or leave whenever you want. It’s a test and a demonstration. Some people lose it hard. They get transferred to a different branch of the Navy, or optioned to leave with no shame or dishonor, just getting admitted to NSET is an easy way to join a private spacer corp. NSET isn’t for everybody, and if you can’t handle The Egg, then nobody wants you on their NSET crew.
I didn’t fail The Egg, but I can understand why people do. When all the senses you rely on to provide information don’t have any information to provide, you start losing the more esoteric senses supported by the main five. First, you lose your sense of form as your body dissolves into the nothingness surrounding you. Next, you lose your sense of space entirely, if you don’t have a being, a shape, then how can you know anything to be anywhere? Without space, you lose time. Some people, particularly those living with mental conditions like ADHD or depression can already have a loose grasp of time, but even the most neurotypical hard-ass king of punctuality starts losing their sense of time.
Then, The Egg opens. The light is disorienting, sounds are suddenly back, and you have a shape, a form, a place, there are things happening, which means that time works again. Then comes the question: “How long were you in there?”. Nobody answers that one correctly.
Two days can’t be right. The oxygen and battery indicators haven’t even gone down to 75 percent.
You should not trust your intuition, your internal senses to make decisions for the entire space ship. That is the constant lesson at NSET training. There are tips and mental exercises to help with some of the shortcomings our minds have, but our instruments are always the key. We go back into The Egg on a routine basis, and now that we know what’s coming for us in the prolonged sensory deprivation, we can react. Focus on your breathing, your heartrate, your fingers and toes. Move periodically to pull yourself back into awareness of your body. The heart is not a good clock, but it’s better than no clock. Count your pulse to use it as a rudimentary timepiece. Don’t go with your initial gut feeling. Instead, if everything else is going wrong, think about the information you have available for two minutes and then check your gut. If you’re only given a second to answer, you think the sun goes around the earth, but with two minutes you’ll know that the earth moves around the sun.
Everybody is trained in every function of the ship. There are specializations, but we aren’t running routine trade routes to Mars or microgravity mining operations. NSET’s goals are to travel to the great beyond, past the Oort cloud and set courses to new solar systems. The ships have the latest technology, the best drives, and the best crews.
I’m ostensibly a navigator, helping track progress and plot courses as we travel further than any human ever has. However, if need be, I can pilot the ship, rebuild the reactor, maintain environmental controls and life support, and repair damage to the ship’s hull.
With new drive technology and a different goal in mind, we surpassed the limit of Voyager 1 as the farthest human-made object from earth in just eighteen months. 
The time doesn’t make sense, the O2 and electric readings don’t make sense, checking trajectories. Which way am I headed?
The sun is nothing but the brightest star now, out of millions visible to my naked eye. My repair mission timer is reading three days now. The ship is long gone, I don’t know how I got separated but I did. I’ve been using every trick in the book, but staying out here is almost worse than The Egg. Three days doesn’t make any sense. I had O2 and suit systems batteries good for a five hour repair shift. I started using my heartbeat as a timer, I counted to 3600 beats, an hour, and the gauges haven’t moved, not since I left the ship. 
I’m not cold, but that’s not surprising. The one-second gut reaction is that I should be solid ice by now, but space doesn’t work like that. Heat transfer occurs through three mechanisms: convection, conduction, and radiation. Convection requires a moving fluid, and conduction requires a contact with a surface at a different temperature. The void of space requires neither. The suit is designed to minimize radiation heat loss, so I’m keeping a level temperature, especially now that I’m not exerting myself. I’ll be warm for a long time after I die out here.
I do have to keep myself moving, minimally at least. If I stay still for too long, I can feel myself becoming the universe. My arms and legs melt out from me and start spinning outward and outward. My chest becomes so bright and before I know it I am the universe, I have no form, I have no volume or dimension and I become the galaxy around me, until my suit beeps, or an itch develops on my skin and I snap back into myself, and now the repair mission timer reads four days. Oxygen at 75%, battery at 75%. 
In calculus, when the teacher was repeating subjects to the rest of the class that I already understood, I would contemplate infinity. Calculus deals often with infinity and zero, and I would contemplate just how large infinity was. I would try to fit it into the room with me. Over there, in a corner, there’s a tiny speck. That speck contains all human knowledge. I make it just a little bit larger and add another infinity inside the infinite volume of the room. I add all the functions that have a derivative, the speck grows infinitessimally. I add all the functions for which no symbolic integral exists, the speck grows less. This whole vast room is everything we don’t know and do know and even then it’s merely vast, not infinite. Now I’m experiencing just how wrong I was. Infinity stretches out from me in all directions and I cannot see all of it. The stars slowly rotate around me and maybe if I had a really good fifty-foot ladder I could climb up that and touch them. 
I’m traveling at close to a million kilometers every hour, every 3600 heartbeats, more or less. I may as well be going nowhere. The stars aren’t changing, nothing is changing. I’m only going a million kilometers an hour compared to earth. There are all kinds of things that I’m traveling slower than, or I’m in lockstep with. Motion is relative, distance is relative. I don’t have instruments that can tell me where I’m headed or how quickly, or if anything is coming.
Day five, and I remember that I haven’t had a drink of water since before I left. Two hours before I left I took final hydration, then I peed before getting in the suit because I hate peeing in the suit. I haven’t peed either, I haven’t felt the need. Haven’t taken a shit. Haven’t felt the need.
I flex my fingers and toes. Then I roll my head and smile and frown and squint and stick my tongue out. I say a few words, mostly to practice words.
The word “planet” is ancient greek for “traveler”. Technically, then, everybody on the ship is a planet, the ship itself is a planet, and I’ve somehow become a planet all my own. I’d have to call myself a rocky planet. I have a crust, and underneath that I’m liquid, and all my heat comes from the core of me. I haven’t eaten food in five days, either. No food, no water, oxygen at 75%, battery at 75%.
It took me a while to notice the dark spot in the sky. The void of stars, where there was nothingness. There hadn’t been nothingness there before but now there is. Day five and a half, another star just vanished behind the penumbra. A rogue planet, it must be. I’m traveling so fast compared to earth, I’m probably still going pretty fast compared to this rogue planet as well. I’m on a pretty direct approach with this black nothingness. Not a black hole, there’s no accretion disc, there’s no gravitational lensing, just black. A dark planet just as lost as I am. I wonder if I set foot on it, will it drain all my heat through my feet and leave me a frozen husk in an instant? Will I be alive for long on this?
Strangely, I will be the first NSET crewmate to make physical contact with a planet not of our solar system.
I’m getting closer to the planet, I can feel something happening, a tug leading me to the planet. Two-second gut reaction is that I’m caught in the planet’s gravity. Two-minute gut reaction is that I won’t really feel the gravity until I’ve got something resisting me. I’m in freefall, but without an atmosphere there’s nothing to perceive the pull of gravity.
So why am I feeling this pulling force?
Just under half of my vision is complete void. In my slow spin I can see the stars in half the field of view, and the rest is simply blackness. I don’t have enough light to tell if anything is rushing up on me. I can’t tell how close the ground is now of this pitch-black planet.
Then, impact as my body touches the surface. Not feather-light and gentle, but not so hard it hurts. And then, I sink, and the cold rushes into my suit, and the blackness consumes me and I feel nothing once again.
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boombox-fuckboy · 3 years ago
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Hi @rec-rewind, I hope you don't mind I make a post for this. I know you like Unwell, you've heard TMA, and you're listening to Archive 81 (if season 2 was more your thing). Here's 30 other horror pods for you:
Alice Isn't Dead: A truck driver travels America, telling stories of her strange encounters while looking for the wife she had thought was dead.
A Voice From Darkness: A radio help line for all your strangest and most disturbing troubles. Host Dr. Ryder takes calls, answers questions, shares strange history, and discusses ongoing supernatural problems around America.
The Blood Crow Stories: Each season is it's own horror story. S1 is tapes from a doomed cruise ship in WW2, S2 is a religious horror western, S3 is a cyberpunk with demons, and S4 is the occult and old-time movie studios.
The Deep Vault: Dead Signals' (Archive 81) other podcast, following survivors of a crumbling world in an underground bunker, complete with robots, ai, cosmic entities, etc.
Dining in the Void: Heads up for initial pacing issues and rough audio, but the issue is resolved, and I enjoy other aspects of the show enough to disregard. A group of strangers are summoned to a space station for a party, and promptly locked in with various horrors and an ominous countdown, until they can work out who the host is.
Dos: After You: A charming young hitman leaves home to travel Europe, hoping to track down, and kill, the god he fell in love with.
Down: A group of scientists and explorers are put in a submarine sent down an apparently bottomless pit in Antarctica. Nobody likes what they find down there.
Duggan Hull: After her friend/ex-girlfriend goes missing, a young woman tries to track her down and ends up in the middle of a strange and disturbing small town mystery. Fantastic piece of cosmic horror. (Not on Spotify)
Hello From The Hallowoods: A powerful entity visits your nightmares bearing stories of the people, in varying states of human and alive, who inhabit the Hallowoods, through horrors and joys, and as their lives begin to meet. Super queer.
Hi Nay: Supernatural horror following a young woman named Mari, who's babaylan (shaman) family background draws her into helping people with various horrific supernatural problems around Toronto. Formatted as phone calls to her mother telling her what's happened.
The Hotel: About a supernatural hotel that kills people, and the weird staff that make it happen.
How I Died: Work recordings of a forensic pathologist who can see ghosts, when he moves to a new town and encounters a strange sequence of murders.
I am in Eskew: Personal accounts from a man living in something that very much wants to be a city, and an investigator who was, in her words, hired to kill a ghost. Creatively horrific stories with a gentle voice and ambient rain. Rougher audio initially but not uncomfortably so.
Janus Descending: A xenopalentologist and a xenoarcheologist investigate the abandoned ruins of an ancient alien civilisation and find more than they bargained for. Listen to the supercut for this one. Really clever use of a strange format: you hear her recordings first to last, and his last to first, and it's all the more heartbreaking for it.
The Lost Cat Podcast: A man befriends strange entities, loses bits of himself and drinks an awful lot of wine while looking for his cat. Unique and fun writing that's stuck with me, yet just the right hint of cliché to make it satisfying in the moment, too. Soft and cosmic horror. (Not on Spotify)
Mabel: Series of voicemails from an elderly woman's caretaker, to her unresponding grandaughter. Horror/mystery with a slow slide into poetic lesbian fae body horror.
Maps of the Lost: An audio guide book to the strange people, places, and happenings of Britan. Lovely soothing voice, more supernatural or new weird but horror enough for this list.
The Mistholme Museum of Mystery, Morbidity and Mortality: You're led through a museum of strange artifacts by a sweet audio tour guide AI, who will tell you the story behind each one. More new weird but there's plenty horror in there too.
Old Gods of Appalachia: Tales from the 1800s and 1900s of an alternate Appalachia inhabited by witches, old gods, and entities beyond understanding. With the air of being told stories around a campfire, these tales are connected by individuals or places, seperate but not detached. Any character is disposable, but none are treated with less respect than they deserve.
The Petrol Station: Strange and unsettling stories from a young woman working at a 24 hour petrol station in a very remote british town. Only 5 episodes, but I am hoping for more.
Red Valley: British cryogenic conspiracy comedy horror with some truely gorey sfx at times. Not my sense of humor personally, but it is enjoyable regardless and well made.
SAYER: Several sophisticated AI bully you into completing an array of both mundane and horrible tasks.
SCP: Find Us Alive: First, you don't need to know anything about SCP to enjoy this. A research team gets trapped in an underground research facility when the complex collapses and the building is dragged into a pocket dimension. The tear it was designed to study begins creating tiny copies of itself, generating strange entities the team needs to deal with. Oh, and the entire situation physically resets every 30 days. And yet, this is genuinely also an office comedy.
The Sheridan Tapes: In 2018, famous horror writer Anna Sheridan went missing leaving behind a collection of strange tapes. Listen along as a young detective with his own strange past tries to work out what happened to her. Cosmic horror.
The Silt Verses: In a modern world where gods are both commercialised and banned, two followers of an outlawed river god go on a pilgrimage. Great worldbuilding and tasty body horror. Same creators as Eskew (further up this list)
Station Blue: Isolation horror following a maintenance man who sets up an antarctic research base ahead of the main crew. Based on the creator's experiences with her own untreated mental illness but also there's some cosmic fuckery and light body horror.
Video Palace: Guy (and his wife when she has time) hosts a personal investigation into a collection of video tapes generally considered an urban legend, after he finds one and begins sleep talking.
The White Vault: A repair group sent to a research base near Svalbard gets trapped inside as an unending snowstorm rages, decides to take a nosy at the tunnels under the base, and find some disturbing things. Fantastic audio and a fun cast of accents and languages.
VAST Horizon: An agronomist travelling to a new world wakes from cryo to find the ship empty, off-course, and damaged. With the guidence of a malfunctioning AI, she tries to work out what happened and how to stop the situation aboard from getting worse.
WOE.BEGONE: A man's curiousity gets the better of him as he begins to play an alternate reality game of a different kind. The challenges are brutal and disturbing, but for the prize on offer, it might just be worth it. Single most endearing asshole lead I've encountered, very funny, very gay, and the music slaps.
Hopefully at least one appeals.
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OoooOOooooOooo guess what!!! This scene well and truly won't leave me alone so I have spent another night writing up my Thoughts and Ideas into something somewhat comprehensible!!!! I blame @jackdaw-kraai @darthstitch @bookwyrmie completely, congratulations y'all!!!!! You Did This!!!!!! đŸ€ŁđŸ€Ł
In the middle of a crowded ballroom, Vader and the child currently held in his arms stared at each other. Luke had handed her to him before he fully understood that what he was receiving was in fact both alive and a small child, and not something inanimate and, say, less fragile. While he tried to recall what to do with an infant, she did something that, in hindsight, he should have expected.
She reached up and hooked her tiny fingers into the slots of his respirator.
"I would advise against that, child," he said.
"Aba," she babbled at him, her other hand joining the first.
"This is not a plaything," he gently added. A pop-up on his HUD alerted him to a blockage and the estimated time he could stay conscious with the decreased rate of oxygen. "It is a vital piece of medical equipment. I must ask you to treat it as such."
He carefully guided her hands away and continued to fend off her attempts to touch either his mask or the unit on his chest. Eventually she settled for his hand, gripping his thumb and pinky finger and manipulating them as much as she could.
"Thank you for your compromise," Vader said.
The child strung together a set of nonsensical syllables that nonetheless had Vader nodding.
He stood there for a while, half-listening to Luke's conversation and letting the child play with his hand until she got bored. His attention was recaptured when she began making small distressed sounds, ones that dredged up a spark of foreboding within him.
"What is it?" he asked her. "Are you hungry, perhaps?"
He looked at the selection of food -- none of it designed for a child. Moreover, he had no idea what kind of preferences or allergies this one may or may not have.
She whined more insistently and stuck her fingers into her mouth.
Vader turned to Luke, still chatting animatedly with his fellows. He placed a hand on his shoulder to get his attention.
"I will return," he said.
"Sure," Luke agreed, patting Vader's hand, and launched right back into his conversation. Vader looked to the guards stationed at the perimeter of the ballroom and only then did he release Luke's shoulder.
He walked a little ways over to the buffet tables and took a knife and fork from the offered cutlery.
"Look, child," he murmured, tilting the utensils this way and that so the glinting of the light caught her attention. Her eyes latched onto the shiny metal, reaching for them with the hand not currently occupied. Her distressed coos tapered off slightly, but began to rise again when Vader wouldn't let her grab them.
"Hm, not so interesting for you, I think," he mused. "But you may hurt yourself if I allow you to hold them."
She looked at him crossly, wisps of her brows furrowed in caricature of what she'd observed of others. She took her hand out of her mouth to babble insistently and slap the arm holding her, smearing saliva across the dark leather.
"Very well," Vader sighed. "Perhaps there is a mutually agreeable solution."
A fine ribbon of the Force wound around them, pulled deftly from the fabric of reality by an old weaver's hand -- the utensils rose on invisible strings, twirling gently around each other like a mobile. It had a similar effect, as well; the child returned her attention to them, now silent but for the small grunts she made as, again, she tried to reach out.
"I agree," he nodded. "A tactile distraction would be best. But these have far too many points for you to prick yourself on, child."
He twitched his fingers and the utensils collided midair, bending around and around each other until there was a packed ball of metal. One could hardly tell where fork ended and knife began. The metal squealed quietly as it was bent into shape, and the more pressure Vader Forced upon it the more it began to glow a red heat. The child watched as the color changed to a burning orange and eventually a bright, molten white.
Vader held the condensed ball of silver at arm's length, thankful now for the wide berth people tended to give him at these functions.
"I believe you would quickly become dissatisfied a simple ball. Would you not agree?" Vader asked. The child, now that it was well and truly out of her grasp, was already looking around with a lazy, hooded eye. "Hm. Something more complex, then."
He turned back to the metal and began twisting. Some sections pulled apart, some connected together, until the latticework of a great dodecahedron rested above his hand, spinning on all axes so he could ensure the angles were correct from every direction. A shape that would occupy her for some time, hopefully. He carefully rounded each vertex and smoothed every edge, and double-checked it with precision.
Then, once he was satisfied, he began to wick away the heat held within the metal. Slowly, the silver set and hardened. He had to be careful, so the lattice did not cool in sections and split apart.
The child began whining again. Vader idly tucked her more securely against his chest, mindful of his life support -- but something inside him he could not name seemed to both stir and settle once she laid her head on his shoulder.
"Almost finished," he consoled her. "I have to make sure it is not too hot for you."
Eventually, Vader released his grasp of the Force and the dodecahedron fell into his hand, cooled completely to ambient temperature. He turned it over once more, a last check for burs or points that he might have missed.
"Here you are, child. Will this hold your attention?"
She took it from him and immediately placed a rung into her mouth. If she minded the taste, she did not show it.
"I am glad to see it," Vader nodded. "This is the framework of a great dodecahedron, which is a regular polyhedron. Many are taught that there are only five regular polyhedra, but there are actually forty-eight in three-dimensional Euclidean space."
She looked up at him with attentive eyes and removed the shape to talk to him, waving the latticework about.
"Exactly. Perfectly foolish to exclude all but the platonic solids."
She resumed her chewing. Vader began explaining the finer points of three-dimensional geometry, and her attentiveness as a pupil only wavered once he started on hexagonal tiling. (Which was more than fair, in Vader's opinion -- the tilings were the least interesting of the lot.) He continued as her eyes drooped and she settled in his arms, turning her new toy in her hands as she listened.
Suddenly, the great dodecahedron fell to the floor, clinking softly to a stop a few paces away. Vader looked down and stilled in surprise; the child was laid fully on his chest and shoulder, eyes closed and breathing deeply in relaxed and restful slumber. She seemed unconcerned by the hard metal of his mantle, but he dared not shift and risk waking her.
He looked for the dodecahedron and found instead Luke, already rising with it in his grip and making his way over.
"This is cool," the boy said, twirling it in his hands. "Where'd you get it?"
"I crafted it from cutlery," Vader replied, wincing at the volume of his vocoder.
"Woah, neat!" Luke took a closer look at it. "I can't see any seam lines."
"No," Vader confirmed. By the grin Luke flashes at him, his tone had a prideful air to it. The vocoder interpreted his chuckle as a small burst of static.
Luke's smile turned sweet, looking to the child in his arms.
"How is she?" he asked, still fiddling with the toy. "Sorry I handed her off so abruptly. I got caught up."
"It was no trouble, little one," Vader dismissed his apology. "...She fell asleep."
"Ohhh," Luke cooed, hand to his cheek. "That's so precious. I wish I brought my datapad."
"And I am rather glad you did not," Vader lightly countered.
Luke rolled his eyes. "Aw, come on. If I took a picture I wouldn't share it with anybody."
Vader was about to reply when--
POP!
At the other end of the table, a burst of applause followed as someone uncorked a bottle of carbonated wine. The child flinched awake in Vader's arms, blinked twice at the loud and bright surroundings, and heaved in a breath.
"Oh no," said Luke, right before she began to wail.
Vader hesitantly pat her back -- his mantle was too hard to bounce her on unless he wanted to give her a concussion. He looked to Luke, whose arms were already extended.
"Can I...?" Luke asked, and Vader readily handed her over. Luke started swaying in place, rubbing her back in gentle circles. "You were doing great, it's just--"
"My armor is not designed for comfort," Vader agreed. "I believe you are much better equipped for her, little one."
Luke's eyes stayed on him for a beat longer than he expected.
"Yeah, I guess not," he eventually agreed. He turned to the child still crying on his shoulder. "But wow, you've got a set of pipes on you, huh? Hey, what's this? You remember this? Did Lord Vader make it for you?"
Luke managed to catch the child's attention once more, her cries diminishing to hiccuping sobs once she had hold of the latticework again. After a couple of minutes it was back in her mouth, and Vader went to retrieve a napkin from the table so Luke could wipe her face.
While at the table, he let his irritation bleed into the space around him and the Dark responded, prickling eagerly up his neck. The gathered crowd immediately quieted and scampered off to another, less disruptive location.
"She really likes it," Luke said when he returned.
"Indeed. She is an exemplary student."
"Is that what you were talking about over here?" he asked, smiling. "Weird math stuff?"
Vader crossed his arms. "It is a fairly simple geometrical concept. She grasped upon the context immediately."
"Aw," Luke crooned. "That's the cutest thing I've ever heard. You're gonna be a scientist one day, huh, sweetling?"
He poked lightly at her belly, just enough to make her laugh -- and drop the dodecahedron. Vader buoyed it with a quick reaction of the Force, guiding it once more into her hands.
She stared at it with wide eyes, then brought it overhead and threw it.
"Oh yeah," Luke said as Vader retrieved it once again. "A scientist for sure."
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gureishi · 3 years ago
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Hi!!! I was wondering if you could do how Saeyoung would react to mc not being able to sleep at night? I personally struggle with this a lot since I have ADHD and anxiety and I’ve never seen anyone do something like this on how Saeyoung would help/comfort the mc during those type of nights. Also I love your writing a lot <3!
Thank you so much, darling! I have terrible insomnia too, so I relate to this a lot.
Saeyoung, of course, has always struggled with sleep. Before he met you, he'd fall asleep at his desk more often than not. It was easier for him to work till his vision blacked out than it was to lie in bed and be left alone with his thoughts.
The two of you will have to work on sleeping together.
It's all new to him. He's never gone to bed at a set time; he's never washed his face and brushed his teeth with the intention of going to sleep, and then climbed into bed and gotten under the blankets and waited to drift off. But now that he's with you, he wants these things.
He's horrified, at first, to find that it's also difficult for you. He wouldn't wish his night terrors on anyone—and you (precious, wonderful you!) should always sleep soundly.
He'll get it together for your sake.
Saeyoung loves to do research. He'll read every article about sleep; he'll learn every technique and strategy. He'll make you tea before bed (and he'll try to drink it too, though he doesn't really like it). He'll buy all new bedding—super soft and cool to the touch. He'll get an ambient noise machine and an essential oil diffuser. He's doing this right.
And you'll be lying in bed with all of these things and you'll look up at the ceiling and laugh, because sometimes tips and tricks for sleeping just aren't enough to settle your mind.
"Still can't sleep, huh?" he'll ask, rolling over in bed to peer into your face. Your eyes are wide open.
You'll want to apologize, because he's tried so hard—but he'll put a finger to your lips before you can.
"It's okay," he'll say. "We'll do it our own way."
And perhaps you will go outside, then, and stand barefoot in the dewy grass. You'll look up at the sky and the wind will whip through your hair and he'll wrap his arms around you.
"The universe," he'll say, "loves you."
You know what he really means, of course. He loves you.
And then he'll scoop you up in his arms and carry you back to bed. He'll rub circles on your back and maybe he'll tell you a story. You'll lay on his chest and listen to his heart.
And perhaps it will take a while. And perhaps some nights will be harder than others.
But you will fall asleep to the sound of his voice and the feeling of his fingers on your skin. And when your breathing deepens, he'll smile—and he'll hold you tight and close his eyes.
He has always hated the thought of lying in the dark and waiting for sleep—but now, at least, he's not doing it alone.
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omg-imatotalmess · 4 years ago
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Love Song in the Attic
Hey guys! Well, I’m gonna be honest, I don’t know where the hell this came from. I was half listening to the music my mom was playing in the living room and all a sudden this appeared in front of me. I really got lost writing this. Hope y’all enjoy! 
Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader
Requested: No
Warnings: Nope 
                                                               ---
There was music blaring from somewhere vaguely above you. To you, it was so quiet and far away that you couldn't discern anything but the tune. It was likely a love song. How fitting. You were falling in love. Recklessly falling in love with Fred Weasley as he fell in love with you. And he fell in love the same way he did lots of things. Headfirst, heart-pounding, jumping in without worrying where he landed. You simply followed right after. There was nothing else you could do when he made it look so exciting.
Then again, Fred made everything exciting. Falling in love in the dimly lit kitchen of the burrow wasn't any different. The warm, sleepy atmosphere was barely a challenge to get around. You swore he actually used it to his advantage. He let the silent snowfall and the ambient love song wrap around you until you felt like the only two people in the house. In the world. You existed alone together beside the soft, lingering scent of sugar cookies. Once he was sure it was just the two of you, he grinned.
"Awfully late to be causing trouble, don't you think, (Y/N)?" he teased.
"Look who's talking," you shot back, leaning against the counter.
"Guess you got me there," he laughed.
"Well, I have to do that sometimes. If it was just you making fun of me all the time, it wouldn't be any fun," you said. He took a long step forward, stopping just before you. Close enough to touch. And you did. You brushed his hair away from his face and smiled up at him.
"Are you sure? Because I could do without your smart mouth, always taking me down a notch. I quite like my ego, you know." The grin on his face said otherwise.
"You love my smart mouth," you said.
"I do," he replied, voice suddenly near a whisper. "Have I told you how beautiful you are yet?"
"No, but I was wondering when you'd get to that," you said. Despite your playful tone, your voice had dropped too.
"You're beautiful. Gorgeous. Ravishing. A real stunner, especially in that," he said, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling at the hem of your sweater. His sweater. You'd forgotten you'd stolen it from him earlier.
"You're just saying that because I'm wearing your clothes," you accused.
"It definitely helps," he said.
"I assume it also helps that I'm not wearing any pants either," you giggled.
"Well, it certainly doesn't hurt." Every second he looked at you, you could see his smile widening into that wild grin you loved so much.
For a few moments, it was quiet again. The song crooned on above you while you admired him. The flickering candlelight cast a golden glow over his skin, turning his freckles to cinnamon specks that dotted his cheeks. You could just barely make out the light pink flush beneath them. Dreamily, you brushed your fingers over the top of his cheekbone just to feel the warm skin under them. A muscle twitched near the corner of his mouth, but you hardly noticed. You found yourself too busy exploring eyes.
Fred's eyes had turned from their usual warm brown to shining obsidian in the nearly dark kitchen. They were deep, fathomless pools of warmth. If you weren't careful, you'd find yourself drowning in them. You weren't even sure you'd mind. Especially not when he looked at you like that. As though you were the answer to every prayer. Like you were the perfect fuzzy figure he could never exactly remember from all his best dreams, but there you were in front of him. With his eyes all crinkled up at the corners, smiling at you all by themselves, you wondered how he could look at anyone like that when he was a dream himself.
"Merlin, stop looking at me like that, (Y/N)," he whispered, sounding almost choked up.
"Like what?" you asked. You didn't think you were looking at him in any particular way. You were just admiring him since he was giving you the chance.
"Like you'd give me the bloody moon if I asked," he said, huffing a laugh.
"I would. I'd wrap it up in a big red and gold bow, too," you said. The sincerity in your voice seemed to catch him off guard.
"And I thought I came out here to make you weak in the knees," he said.
"Don't worry, if you fall, I promise I'll catch you." The noise that left his mouth was somewhere between a dreamy sigh and a whimper. It was a sound you'd hold close to your heart for the rest of your life, and he'd deny for just as long.
"What if I was falling now?" he asked, leaning closer to you, smile turning lopsided. You slid your arms beneath his and pulled him impossibly closer to you.
"I've got you, Freddie. I know you’ve got me too." He swallowed thickly, eyes flickering down to your lips.
"I have to kiss you now, you know that, don't you?" he said.
"Then kiss me." He did.
Dipping his head down slowly, he pressed his lips against yours. The familiar scent of fireworks and toasted marshmallows enveloped you as the song in the attic fell away. The two of you were left to make your own music. And it was sweet.
Your lips slotted together like you were made specifically for one another. As though it all just made sense. Fred's hands found your hips, holding you like you were made of stardust and all his most precious desires. His mouth was heavy against your own in the best way. He kissed you the way you'd expected him to-- with a little smile. Like there was no point in holding back. There wasn't. So, you didn't. Tipping your chin up slightly, you pressed every bit of your affection for him onto the tip of your tongue and into his waiting mouth. He gave it back. The song the two of you created all by yourselves overshadowed all past love songs. And this one was just for the two of you. Pulling back, you took each other in with matching flushed cheeks and smiles.
"I love you, (Y/N)," he said, pressing his forehead against yours.
"I love you too, Fred," you replied.
A new song started playing from that same place vaguely above you. For all you knew, it came from the heavens. This time it was definitely not a love song. But if you knew Fred, he'd make it one.
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firstofficerwiggles · 4 years ago
Text
Signed, Sealed, Delivered
Sequel to Sending a Message (link)
Din Djarin x Female Reader
Rating: M, 18+ only please (If you prefer, I also have a T rating version of this fic that skips the sex click here)
Warnings: Smut, but like fluffy smut, unprotected sex – this is fantasy people, please be safe in real life
Summary: Din and the reader confess their feelings and then they have sex, there’s not a lot of plot here
Word count: approx. 3700
Author’s Note: This is a continuation of Sending a Message; I’ve included the ending lines of that fic here to start us off. This is only my second fic and my first time writing smut, so be gentle. Timelinewise with the show, this is some point between season 1 and 2 and the Razor Crest is still with us (RIP Space Honda Civic). Also, I’m going with the relaxed interpretation of the helmet rules that as long as you can’t see him, Din can take off the helmet. I hope you like it!
--------------------------------------------------------
“Thank you, for doing
 for helping me out,” you feel rather flustered and it’s making you babble, “back there.” “I just couldn’t get those guys to bug off.”
“It was my pleasure,” he responds rather cheekily, “I figured I was going to get into a bar brawl, but I liked your idea a hell of a lot better.” He tilts his helmet at you and you can swear that you can hear the smile in his voice.
“Well, thank you, again” you say softly. He steps closer to you and you’re practically touching him as he looks down at you and says with a chuckle, “Any time you need me to feel you up again, just let me know.”
And before you can stop yourself, you blurt out, “I will.”
He laughs and tips his head down to you, “Message received.”
This whole evening has really been something. What started out as a little ploy to act like you and Din were a couple in order to stop those men from hitting on you, had quickly turned into you practically blurting out your feelings for him. But now, he’s teasing, dare you say, flirtatious, making you flustered. Is he actually interested in you? You would love to hope it were true, but he’s probably just laughing because this situation is quite funny, I mean you made him, practically demanded, he put his hand up your skirt in a crowded cantina and in front of the kid. Who does that? You can’t help but chuckle along with him. It breaks the tension of the moment and you decide it really is time to let him have some privacy and wind down from the day. You give Din a smile and a small nod before you turn to go when he reaches out and takes your arm, stopping you.
“What were you going to say?” he inquires.
“Nothing,” you reply, confused.
“No, I mean back at the cantina, before the waiter interrupted
” he explains, “it felt like you wanted to tell me something?” His voice is softer now, no longer teasing.
Oh? Oh! you remember that moment, Din’s hand caressing your thigh, turning you on, you moaning his name and wishing that he wouldn’t stop, that it was all true, and that you really were his.
“Oh, I
 it wasn’t, it doesn’t matter
” you try to play it off, too nervous to tell him what you were really thinking.
“What was it?” he really wants to know.
“I--” you don’t know what to say, you just stare at the black visor in his helmet, all words escaping you.
“You know you can tell me anything, right?” he says gently, “I want you to know you can always trust me.” He is still holding your arm, but now he slides his hand down to yours and gives it a gentle squeeze.
“I do trust you, but, maybe some things are better left unsaid.” You’re afraid that if you tell him the truth, it could ruin your friendship. You look down, worried the emotion in your eyes will give you away.
“I think I want to hear it,” Din urges you, tenderly, “I think I need to hear you say it.” He steps closer to you, brushes a tendril of your hair off your face, and gently strokes your cheek. His hand stops on your chin and tips your face up so he can look in your eyes.
And you can’t help but tell him the truth, “I wanted to tell you how much I was enjoying it, enjoying you touching me, how I didn’t want it to stop, and how I wanted it to be real, to really be yours.” The words come out in a breathless rush of emotion.
Din feels a warmness permeate his chest at your words and he lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. He’s been imagining this moment for a while now, wanting to know if you have feelings for him and wanting to try to show you how he feels. But these emotions are new to him and he has been at a loss for how to say something or do something. He needed you to make the first move, to guide him before he screwed it all up. In the past, his romantic interactions with women, if you can call them that, have been brief sexual liaisons lasting only a couple of hours at the most. With you though, he knows this is something more, he wants it to be something more. Yet, he feels like an awkward, gawky teenager trying to express himself around you. Your words give him confidence though and he tells you,
“It was real to me,” his voice sounding huskier than usual “I didn’t have to pretend at all.”  
“You didn’t?” you sound surprised, “I mean, you, wanted to do that?”
He chuckles softly, “Did I want to touch you? Hell, yes. I’ve wanted to touch you practically since the moment we met,” he confesses. “It’s not how I imagined it happening, but I’m glad it did.” He pauses for a moment and shuffles on his feet a bit. He has had years of intense training, but would it have killed them to add in a few lessons on how to talk to women? At least you’re smiling at him, so you’re clearly pleased with his words. He plows on because he wants you to understand this isn’t just about lust, “It’s more than just wanting to touch you though, I want to be close to you, to share more with you, because I can talk to you, and you listen, you understand me, and you’re so beautiful.” Oh Maker, he’s babbling like a nitwit.
Thankfully for Din’s sake, you don’t care that his words aren’t smooth, and you jump in before he can panic too much, “Din, I want that too,” you tell him your face lighting up with joy, “I care for you so much.” You take his other hand in yours and give them both a light squeeze to punctuate your words.
Din is quiet for a moment but squeezes your hands in response and then says, “I’m smiling. I know you can’t see it, but would you like to feel it?”
“How?” you’re curious and excited about the prospect.
“How do you feel about the dark?” he asks more confident now.
You think about what he’s implying, and you say rather flirtatiously, “I like the dark.”
“Let’s get more comfortable, first.” Din has a plan of action now and he feels more at ease. Still holding your hand, he leads you over to your sleeping area where you have a semblance of a ‘room’ with some storage crates pushed up against one of the walls of the ship acting as chairs. You watch as he removes his cape, gloves, and armor, placing everything in a neat pile on top of one of the crates, but he leaves on his helmet and one of his vambraces. He then sits down on the other crate, tilts his helmet at you, and then pats his lap suggestively. You let out a small laugh, he’s so cute, and then eagerly settle yourself on his lap again. Without all the beskar, he’s much warmer and now you can feel his body even though he’s still wearing his protective clothing. He seems content just to hold you for a moment as you let yourself relax in his arms.
“Ready for the dark?” he asks.
“Mmm, yes,” you reply. He presses a few buttons on his vambrace and you are plunged into almost total darkness; there is only a tiny bit of ambient light from a few of the glowing buttons on the ship, but at most all you can see are shadowy figures even as your eyes adjust. He has to let go of you for a moment, and you sit up a little, giving him space to move. You can hear the shuffling of him removing his vambrace and then, the helmet. One of his arms wraps around you again, pulling you back against his broad chest and his other reaches down to find your hand. You gasp a little at the touch of his bare hand; it’s softer than you would have thought and much warmer without the glove. He brings your hand up to his face letting you caress his jawline.
“Can you feel that I’m smiling?” Din’s voice sounds different without the modulator but you love it because you can hear the emotion in his voice more clearly. You let your hands wander to his cheeks where you can feel a dimple on one side, then, you move towards his mouth and gently run your fingertips along his lips.
“Yes, I can. I’m glad that you’re smiling, you deserve to be happy,” you tell him.
“You make me happy,” he says and you can feel his smile widen.
“I can also tell that you have a mustache and some sexy scruff on your jaw,” you say playfully as you resume your exploration of his face.
He chuckles at that, “I can always shave if you prefer.”
“No, no, I like it.”
You let your hands wander into his hair around the back of his neck feeling how thick and soft his hair is. “You have curly hair,” you say with delight, “I like that too.” He laughs again, amused by your pleasure at discovering more about him. You play with the curls at the base of his neck and slowly bring his head closer to yours.
“May I kiss you?” Din whispers against your lips.
“Yes,” you breathe, and then you feel him pull you closer and gently touch his lips to yours. His kiss is tender and slow at first, and he moves his lips with yours in a delicate dance. You sigh into him and as you open your mouth, he follows and deepens the kiss. You feel his tongue brush over yours and it ignites a spark within you. You entwine your fingers into his curls and kiss him back passionately, showing him the depth of your feelings. He kisses you until both of you are breathless and panting. He begins to let his hands wander, stroking your back with one and bringing the other up to caress your neck. His lips follow his hand as he places soft kisses down the column of your neck. You let your own hands explore, running them over his well muscled shoulders and back.
“You’re so strong,” you say softly to him, and you can feel his lips pull into a smile against your skin. He doesn’t say anything but returns to your lips and kisses you intensely, showing you how pleased he is with your praise.
“Tell me what you want me to do,” Din says his voice taking on a sensual tone. He has a desire to recreate the scene in the cantina.
“I want you to touch me,” you respond, “Be handsy again,” you flirt with him.
“Gladly.” He brings his hand up to the exposed skin of your upper chest and lets his fingers skim near the neckline of your dress, only this time your feel his warm fingertips instead of his glove. He begins to let his fingers wander underneath the material of your dress, gently caressing the curves of your breasts and the edge of your bra. You let out a sighed, “yes,” as you lean into his touch, encouraging him. It’s enough of a positive sign for him and he lets his entire hand slip into the bodice of the dress and under your bra palming your breast and seeking out the sensitive tip of your nipple. His fingers circle and brush over the hardened peak causing several moans to fall from your lips. He pulls you back into another searing kiss before repeating his actions with your other breast. He tugs at your clothing a little, pulling it open so that both of your breasts are now exposed to him. He turns you slightly so that he can keep up the work of his fondling hand and fingers, but now he can also dip his head to capture your tight bud in his mouth. You moan his name over and over as he licks and suckles your breasts, causing you to arch your back and move your hips over his lap feeling the hardness of his arousal as you do. It makes Din groan out and he raises his head back to yours for another kiss.
His hand travels lower now, down to your legs, and he drags his fingertips over them lightly in a playful manner until he reaches the hem of your skirt, “What should I do now?” he muses.
“Din,” is all that you can say, slightly exasperated.
“Hmm? What was that?” he kisses the tip of your nose.
“Din, please” you breathe out.
“Please what? What would you like me to do?” he places a kiss in the hollow of your throat.
“Please put your hand up my skirt,” you beg him.
“I thought you’d never ask,” he says with a chuckle.
“You’re driving me crazy with all of this teasing,” you tell him.
“Good,” he responds as he caresses his way up your leg the same way he did in the cantina, only this time he keeps going until he reaches the apex of your thighs. He brushes his fingers over your cloth-covered core making you gasp and tremble slightly. “Should I keep going?” he asks, not to tease this time, but to make sure you are comfortable.
“Yes, please keep going,” you tell him and you reach out to bring him back in for a kiss to show him how much you are enjoying his touch. His fingers find the edge of your panties and make their way to where you want him the most. As he grazes over the delicate folds, you moan and let a shiver of pleasure take over your body.
“You’re so wet for me already, sweetheart,” Din is pleased as his touch gets firmer and he brings your wetness up to your tight bundle of nerves and lets his fingers begin to circle there. All you can say is his name as rational thought is leaving your mind. He shifts his hand and lets his thumb continue to strum your clit while his long middle finger slowly slides inside of you. He sets a steady pace, thrusting his finger in and out being sure to brush the particularly sensitive spot on the top of your walls. A string of mewls and cries are ripped from your throat as your pleasure mounts, “Yes, baby, let me hear you,” Din encourages as he adds a second finger to his thrusts. You feel your internal muscles being to flutter as he guides you to your peak, higher and higher, until you see stars and cry out his name. He keeps up his movements as you ride out your orgasm.
He has you so keyed up that you start to feel the pleasure burn through you again. He starts to slow his fingers and pull away when you grab his wrist to keep him in place and tell him, “Not yet. I can. Again.” It’s all you can get out but it’s enough for him to understand what you need. He renews his movements with vigor as he asks, “Can you? Can you come again for me, sweetheart?” he sounds impressed. You groan in response and he continues with dirty praise, “So responsive to me, letting me get you so hot and wet.” The deep rumble of his voice is all you need and you reach the height of your pleasure a second time, clenching even harder around his fingers, and shuddering all over.
Din presses light kisses to your chest, throat, and face as you come down from your high. He captures your lips again with his own. He can’t believe how wonderful that was. Din’s always thought himself to be a decent lover, making sure his partners enjoy themselves, but he’s never relished foreplay so much before. He loves knowing that he is the one making you feel so good, making you want him as much as he wants you.
“You are incredible,” you tell him breathlessly.
“You’re the incredible one,” he responds, “Does that happen often? Twice, I mean?”
“Only with you.”
“I’m honored,” Din says but you can hear a little smugness in his voice and you smile at his pride in his own sexual prowess.
You sit up a little straighter on his lap and it brings your attention back to the evidence of his desire for you. “I think I’ve been a little greedy though,” you tell him, “Tell me how I can make you feel this amazing. Tell me what you want.”
“I want to make love with you, to feel you around me, to know that you are mine,” he answers you in the most romantic words you’ve ever heard. You lean in to kiss him deeply in response before pulling back to tell him, “I want that too.”
You stand up, pull your dress over your head and shed your bra and panties, so that you are completely naked before him. You hear Din remove his clothing too, and when he pulls you back into him, all you can feel is his warm skin against your own. You reach up to kiss him again, reveling in the feeling of your soft curves against his hard muscular frame. You back up towards your bed still kissing him, but you miscalculate the distance in the dark and you both end up tumbling onto the bed. You giggle in amusement as Din says, “And I thought I was being so smooth,” and joins in your laughter. It feels good to just laugh with him, to feel him so relaxed and happy. Din enjoys the moment too, amazed at the easy way he can connect with you. With the other women he’s taken to bed, he knows such a clumsy fumbling would have been awkward and unsexy, but with you, it feels natural and light.
As Din shifts his body over yours, his movement causes a delicious friction across your skin, and your laughter dissipates into a soft moan of pleasure. He positions himself between your thighs and lets out his own moan as you brush your hips up into his. Din’s lips find your neck and he begins placing open-mouth kisses all over your throat and chest, returning to your breasts to lavish them with even more attention. When he lifts his head, he brings himself back up your body and as he does so, you can feel his hard cock brush over your sensitive folds. He leans down to your ear and says, “Some other time I want to taste all of you, but I can’t wait any longer to make you mine,” and you feel him position himself at your entrance.
“Yes, Din, make me yours,” you tell him, pleadingly, and he slowly enters you letting you adjust to his size as he goes. When he is fully sheathed within you, both of you release a sound of pleasure at finally being joined. You stay still for a moment enjoying the feel of him deep inside you. Din has to bite his lip and hold himself there or this will all be over way too soon. In a way, he’s glad for the dark because seeing you at this instant might send him into bliss right now. He can feel you getting a little impatient though as you flutter yourself around him, tightening and releasing him, and making him practically growl at you. Din gives in to your impatience, beginning to roll his hips slowly in gentle thrusts allowing you to feel every inch of him. You bring your hips up to meet his, changing the angle slightly and he is able to penetrate you even deeper. This earns you a forceful moan from him and he increases his pace.
“You’re so tight, sweetheart, but you take me so well,” Din praises you.
“Oh, Din, you feel fantastic, so big, so hard,” you gasp out as you lift your legs and wrap them around his waist moving in perfect counterpoint to his thrusts and grinding your clit against him. “Faster, please” you beg him and he is happy to comply. You are still so sensitive from earlier and you feel a powerful orgasm starting to build within you like a spark of light getting brighter and brighter each time Din drives himself in and out of your body. He begins to cry out your name and you know he is getting closer to his climax too. You chant out his name as if it’s all that you know how to say as the light overtakes your body in a white-hot intensity and then shatters into a thousand glittering stars. Din feels you come apart beneath him, your internal muscles clenching around him. He wishes he could see your face, but for now, he just enjoys hearing the way you cry out his name and feeling you shudder with ecstasy. He thrusts a few more times trying to prolong the pleasure as much as possible, before letting his own release overtake him, shouting your name as he spills himself inside you.
As you both drift back down from your peaks, you reach up to kiss him again tenderly. Din rolls off you to lie on his back and you shift with him settling in the crook of his arm. You pillow your head on his chest and wrap your leg around his, cuddling up to him.
“I never thought I’d say this, but I’m glad those guys were hitting on you,” Din says with a snicker, “I should have taken you to more cantinas.”
You chuckle with him, “It’s not your typical romantic beginning, I suppose,” you reply, “but if that’s what it took to get you to really be mine, I won’t complain.”
“I’ll let you in on a little secret,” Din says, “I was already yours,” and you can hear the smile in his voice again.
“Maybe so, but now, I know that you’re mine and I’m going to make sure that everyone else knows it too.”
“Sending more messages?” Din chuckles, “I’ll be happy to help you deliver them.”
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Thank you for reading!
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Text
A Song
I cannot believe i’m doing this but here is a Darkiplier Vore fic. I did not proof read this, wrote it in one go at 2 am last night. 
I asked @cookedsalad to tell me to write something and here we are
the anatomy was based on the HCs that @vorish-egos posted 
Summary: Reader has had a bad day and seeks out their favourite little Demon dude... only to find something else begin to bug them
Warnings: Soft Safe Vore. 
Word Count: 1093
Dark always treated you with care. He knew you were vulnerable and did his best to keep you safe. From both the outside world and your mind. The latter wasn’t really easy to keep you away from, he hadn’t figured out how to do it for himself, so how was he to keep you safe as well. Dark, however was very good at one thing, being there with you. 
When you came into the room, tears in your eyes, he had a handkerchief ready. Sitting you down on the couch and following suit. Letting you lean on him and cry while he sipped at his wine. 
“Did anyone hurt you?” He asked, trying to be nonchalant. 
“No, No” was the only reply you could muster. He turned to you. 
“Don’t lie to me” You could hear his ambient ringing grow a little louder
“I’m not
 look
 I just don't want to talk about it” You mumbled “i’ll feel better just being around you.”
Silence fell over the two of you. The handkerchief thoroughly saturated in tears. You had calmed down and the headache was setting in. That combined with Darks now piercing ringing was driving you insane, but you really didn’t want to leave his side. Giving your face a wipe with your sleeve, you shifted your head from his shoulder to his lap. You lay on your back with one ear pressed to his belly, the other plugged with your finger. 
Dark smiled just a little, and made a point of being a little louder when continuing his drink. Hoping the sounds of the swallows would translate through his whole body. He watched you, your eyes shut tight and the slightest bit of tension on your face, which only made him more distressed, and yet again louder. He removed your hand from your ear. 
“Are you in pain?” He asked gently. You flinched in response, a couple tears still pricking.
“Yeah, I’m fine, it’s just this headache is killing me” You replied.
“Why are you covering your ears?” 
“I
” You were trapped. Either way you answered, the ringing would still get louder. “Dark, I am so thankful that you are here, and I don’t want you to leave but your ambiance is so shrill right now it hurts.”
The most bizarre thing happened, just for a split second, it stopped. All was silent. Then it picked up again. Quieter but still as shrill. 
“I’m sorry” was all he could muster.
You squished the side of your face further into his stomach, listening to some of that already drunken wine passing through one of his stomachs. 
“It’s okay Dark, don’t worry” you mumbled into him “You were just worried about me”
“Can I make it up to you?” He asked, placing a hand on your hair. You looked up at him and nodded with a smile.
He placed his wine down on the table. Placing how now free hand on your forehead. 
Dizziness overcame you for a moment before you slowly watched his hand practically engulf you. You now lay on his leg. Only 7 inches tall. You felt his hand reach under you and gravity shifted as you were brought upwards. You sat up as his hand finally let you see again. You were face to face with him, there in his palm. 
You began to take off your shoes, and as you did so he gave you a quick lick to get rid of some of the tears still on your face. Slowly you stood up, walked up to the edge and leaned against the bridge of his nose. 
“Thank you.” You said, your breath hitching a bit as the gaping maw in front of you. Pearly white teeth greeted you. He leaned forward to gently scoop you up with the help of his hand and tongue. He couldn't help but let out a happy noise at your taste.
You giggled softly at this, and he responded by squishing you to the roof of his mouth. He had regained his composure. Despite your cramped position, you managed to wiggle your hands to up above your head, squishing them into the throat before you. He let out a happy hum before flicking his head back, swallowing. You were pushed into his throat. The sound echoing all around you as you were tightly squeezed from all sides. 
Another swallow followed, bringing the rest of you into the confines of his throat. Outside, he had a hand against you as you slid down past his collar bone. Inside, the ringing was drowned out by his heartbeat, and once you cleared his airway, his steady breaths as well. 
You felt the tension in your forehead fade away as you traveled further down the tube of flesh. 
Soon you landed into his first stomach, a squelch accompanying you. It squeezed you in greeting. You smiled lightly and shoved back at it. Already enjoying the new quiet hum you heard from within. No longer piercing, it was almost melodic deeper and quieter. 
“Sorry buddy, not today” You say softly, still patting the flesh of Darks first belly. 
“Oh, too bad,” Dark cooed all around you “I was hoping you’d get distracted and I could at least get a little something~” You laughed and nudged him again. 
Although you filled out the organ nicely enough as is, you leaned towards the next entrance. He sighed softly and you felt the chamber squish you down. There you landed, in a small pool of wine slowly draining out. You stretched, squishing against the walls of the slightly smaller space. Below you, you could hear the more deadly of the three, which your liquid roommate was slowly draining into. The gurgles and groans from the organ were soothing, because despite how close you were to something deadly, you knew Dark would never even dream of hurting you. 
“Thank you, this feels a lot better,” You said, nuzzling into the wall of monochromatic cavern. Your body had finally relaxed. Your head was no longer throbbing. The noises of Darks body surrounded you to create a beautiful, albeit odd, chorus combined with the ringing that was once painful. You felt an added pressure from one of the walls. Dark rubbed at you lightly, It felt almost muted with the wall of muscle in between you and his hand. You shut your eyes, as he began to hum to you. The last part of the song was complete. You feel asleep completely surrounded by him and the tune. Safe, secure, and happy.  
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ohmygillygoshoppler · 4 years ago
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A little snippet of a larger story im working on for my homies on discord. One of our prompts for this month gave me a little bit of inspiration, so I just started writing.
This takes place during the scene where all of the kids get together and play a good wholesome game of hide-and-seek. :)
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"1... 2... 3... 4..."
The brotherhood boys and the X-kids all made a run for it as Callista started counting. A game of hide-and-seek, from the Brotherhood Boarding House, to Xavier's institute. About a mile walk, fifteen or twenty minutes away. The objective is for everyone from their respective teams to make it to the institute without getting caught. If Callie caught you, you were out. The team with the most members left would be the victors. The Brotherhood boys were all more than eager to play a scary game, but it was Xavier's bunch that needed some convincing.
So Dominik, Pietro, Fred, Tabitha, and Todd faced off against Scott, Evan, Kitty, Kurt and Jean. Callie was it. It was almost 10 o'clock at night. The perfect conditions for hide-and-seek.
Todd didn't pay much attention to where his boys had run off to, but he noticed Kitty and Dominik making a run for the school together. Toad was thankful he had decided to take the long way home from school today, otherwise he wouldn't have found- the perfect hiding spot.
Todd bounded over the fence and landed in an overgrown backyard with a filthy swimming pool turned green from disuse. It was haphazardly covered with a blue tarp covered in rotting leaves. He spotted it earlier when he, Cal and Kurt rode down to their favorite food hangout. This was a pretty snobbish neighborhood, but he could already tell that nobody had been there for a few weeks. He'd be safe here.
This is not my idea of a good fun game of hide-and-seek, Todd thought to himself as he slipped his shirt off and slinked into the pool. Callie not only moved where she wasn't supposed to, while they weren't looking, but was coming for them specifically. It was almost a nightmare scenario. He wondered where the others decided to hide.
Todd was trapped in a single spot, the filthy pool in someone's abandoned summer house. He gulped down a deep breath and submerged, the bottom of this pool covered in algae; thick, slimy and slick to the touch. The shapes and shadows of things up above darkened the spot in the pool where he was hiding, but there was no way she'd guess he was in there; nobody really had any idea.
He couldn't breathe underwater, but he could hold his breath for a long time. When he first discovered he was pretty good at staying under, he tracked his time on a stopwatch, but he hasn't been to the lake in a while. His longest time was about twelve minutes. He wondered if she would hear hi if he came if for air? The thought frightened him.
Dominik initiated this horrifying game, and now they all had to survive it. A lot of variables affected his way of making it through this, but one thing was for sure, he was loud when he was trying to be quiet. It's kind of flipping the switch of hide and seek. In addition to listening out for the once again minuscule sounds that allude to the nearby mutant, he had to do tasks like coming up for air- the least noisiest task- and keep the tarp on the pool from falling inside. Those sounds attracted her and made it more difficult to hear the sounds he was looking for underwater, and even worse, there was no real way to get out. She would hear him running around squishing with water. He suddenly regret his decision in its entirety.
At least the quiet gave him some time to think. He thought about the first thing that came into his mind; what he was up against.
Callista's mutation capitalized on a broad discomfort with things that fell into the uncanny valley; things that are too humanoid to be something fake, but moved to spastically or mechanically for something to pass as living. Similar to how she fits into the visual uncanny valley, the sounds she makes fit into the audio uncanny valley, where they're definitely closer to language than any other sound in her Library of Noises, but they're too distorted for anyone to recognize who made the words or what they mean. She dabbled in both unfortunate arts. She litters these sounds throughout the entirety of the space she controls, from quick flickering hallucinations to phone rings that sound a little too much like a real phone. Her laughter also counted as a vaguely vocal sound, as it sounded like a demented version of a child laughing.
These are some of the ways Callista flavored her games to make less complex scenarios more stressful. Todd had a sinking feeling that this was only the tip of the iceberg when it came to her scary games. Perhaps this was Callista's way of establishing herself as the Top Dog.
But since this was a game, there was a condition; something had to be sacrificed to allow them the chance to think under pressure and win the game. At least she gave them all a fighting chance, telling them all he needed to know about visual signals and audio clues.
"Don't stop. Don't make any noise. Don't let me catch you." He remembered that warning as he peered up at the water's surface. He thought he heard something.
While it was never silent out here, it was remarkably more quiet the rest of the house. There's a dog somewhere, and it's howling. There's some car horns blaring in the distance, and the sound he was told to listen for: clicking.
Yes, if he heard clicking when checking the area, he was to hide to stop her from getting him right there. But her clicks were quiet. The sound that indicated she was in the area rose only a little above the ambient noise of the space, and so he had to parce sounds very carefully. His ear was searching for small differences in volume, which made any change in volume even more intense. That's only when he was checking above the water. In other parts of the yard, there were other subtle sounds. Focusing on such minuscule sounds was stressful, scary even.
A loud noise and a dark shape moved up above him, frightening him. Todd was just about to peek his head up and take a look outside, but now he wasn't budging. Was it her? He slid out from the shadows to get a better look, but it was still too dark to see.
The amphibious mutant blinked, squinting real close before a wave of relief washed over him. He recognized the silhouette: It was Kurt. He couldn't help but stifle a snicker as he watched the other mutant frantically search the yard for a place to hide.
Todd slowly ascended, barely peeking his head out of the water, hiding under the tarp. Despite his movement, the water remained mostly placid. Kurt was fussing with the patio umbrella, trying to get it to open for him so he could hide inside. Todd just watched him silently.
Kurt was wrapping himself around the umbrella's pole when he caught a glimpse of something staring at him from the pool, and for a split second, he thought he was going to have a heart attack. Todd just gently shook his head, pressing a green finger to his lips.
Kurt was going to kick himself for almost getting scared by Todd Tolansky. He knew though that if he made too much noise, he and Todd would both be caught. So he just gave his frog friend a thumbs-up and stuffed himself inside of the umbrella, carefully closing it shut.
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trainthief · 5 years ago
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hey i'm one of those aforementioned "only-heard-blake-shelton" people - do you have any recs for better country music? i like finding new music but country is hard cause i don't really know where to start
I think the best way to explore any genre is to abandon the feeling that you’re obligated to develop an academic-level base of knowledge in the different foundations and aspects of it. If that’s something that actually interests you then by all means go for it, but despite how pretentious and rude people can get about music, it is at its heart just a form of expression - and while knowing which specific sounds might have influenced others can enhance the listening experience for some people, it’s not like there’s a prerequisite course load you need to take before you can start telling people you like country music at parties. 
Anyway, that point aside, here’s some basics: country itself is a really broad concept, and was initially defined more by its ideology and source than any specific structural musical qualities that it tended toward (although its creation was most heavily influenced by Irish, Mexican, and African musical traditions). The common use of instruments like guitars, banjos, and fiddles is more to do with the ease of accessibility and portability for poorer Americans of the late 1800s, who - especially in the West - tended to be at least somewhat nomadic. Thematically speaking, it was most often centered around the experiences of blue-collar workers, including but not limited to cowboys. Subsequently, it has suffered under the combined efforts of corporations and politicians to market a parody of rural America’s own culture right back at them, and that’s why - especially if you’re only in your 20’s or younger - it’s very possible your knowledge of it is defined by commercialized Bro Country (which in my opinion is almost always antithetical to the actual spirit of country music itself, and also from a musical perspective tends to be uninteresting bullshit). 
As far as subgenres go, the ideas quickly become so vague that it’s really up to the listener to decide how they want to categorize their music. Region and era can influence sound quite a bit, so that’s one way. Subject matter is another. Actual musical structure is a further one. I’m not going to bother and try to give you a comprehensive idea of all the options, because that’s impossible to do in anything shorter than an essay. Instead I’ll just fill you in on some of my favorites, and some song suggestions to go with them: 
Country Music You’ve Been Listening to This Whole Time Without Knowing It: this is an easy one to start with. Lots of folk music is also country music, whether you were aware of it or not. James Taylor, John Prine, John Denver, Bob Dylan
. You’ve been here this whole time. 
Outlaw Country: Tends to be either dark or mournful, but regardless it’s dramatic and fun. Usually framed around some fictional crime the singer has committed, which they have either been sentenced for or are on the run from. Good examples are Kate McCannon by Colter Wall, Mama Tried by Merle Haggard, Late July by Shakey Graves, Gallows Pole by Willie Watson, and Hell’s Canyon by Lost Dog Street Band
Spirituals: I’m definitely not going to tell you how to feel about religion itself - but given that music has been such a deeply rooted part of spiritual expression for as long as we’ve recorded history, and has very often evolved in tandem with or in response to religious movements, I think you’re really cutting yourself off from some good tunes if you try to ignore it entirely. Johnny Cash’s later stuff, especially, has the same dark overtones of his earlier Outlaw music but with the addition of gospel stylings and a religious severity that comes together in a way that’s honestly just straight up sexy to listen to. Ain’t No Grave and Redemption Day are probably the best two examples of this. On the other side, there’s the simplistic and heartfelt kind of spiritual country found in stuff like Hank Williams’ I Saw the Light, or I’ll Fly Away as performed by Gillian Welch, which I find really moving. 
Honky Tonk: On the subject of Hank Williams, honky tonk is really fun music, and I deeply resent the fact that it’s been incorporated into the classist caricature of rural stupidity. At its heart, honky tonk was just designed to be a good time, and the vocal techniques it employs are actually really difficult to master, so it deserves a lot more respect. Hank Williams, in particular, also tends to use it to get right at the heart of subjects I really enjoy (although don’t confuse him with his son Hank Williams Jr, who writes Bro Country and unfortunately seems to be a terrible person). Anyway, Mind Your Own Business is one of his (and one of my favorite personal anthems), and Wealth Won’t Save Your Soul is a powerful one too. Regarding more modern honky tonk, my favorite up-and-coming musician is named Nick Shoulders, and I’d recommend his songs Rather Low and Snakes and Waterfalls. 
Nice Comfortable Country Music Sung By Ladies: this is definitely a genre specific to just me, but it’s a type of music I grew up listening to a lot as a kid and I really love it. Like the title says, it’s just country songs by various very talented women who make you feel like you’re warm and at home. I Have a Need for Solitude by the great Mary Chapin Carpenter, Across the Great Divide by Nanci Griffith, Traveling Alone by Tift Merritt, Angel from Montgomery by Bonnie Raitt, Hammer and a Nail by The Indigo Girls
Poor Boy Blues: again, not a definitive stylistic subgenre so much as it is an opportunity to show off a few different songs of a few different styles that all follow a common and relatable theme, specifically one that is important to the overall genre itself. Dead End Street by Blake Mills, Crop Comes In by Chatham County Line, Thirteen Silver Dollars by Colter Wall, My Rifle My Pony and Me by Dean Martin, Cowpoke by Dave Stamey, Automobile by KALEO
Love And Heartbreak: have you really lived if you haven’t rocked out to Cowboy Take Me Away by the Dixie Chicks? No, you haven’t. You’ll also be happy to hear that I recall a poll that listed Cowboy Take Me Away as being the number one song every cowboy will sing along to on full blast whenever he’s alone. Anyway, there’s also Buddy by Willie Nelson, Crossing Muddy Waters by John Hiatt, Morning by Jim Ed Brown, Every Time I Hear That Song by Brandi Carlile, Gentle on My Mind by Glen Campbell, Kathleen by Townes Van Zandt. 
Experimental: if you’d like to get a little weird with it, I’d recommend The Gold is Deep by The Dead Tongues (which uses some really ambient reverb and a small church organ for a more psychedelic sound), or Familiarity by The Punch Brothers (which compositionally borrows a lot from modern classical chamber music with its rhythmic systems and pacing). 
There’s lots more we could get into here, like bluegrass, slow dancing music, spaghetti western soundtracks, and the fact that not all country pop-rock is bad, but I’ll stop myself here
. If you’re looking for a more general source for a lot of country all at once, here’s my favorite of my country playlists. Hope that was helpful! 
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duchessfics · 4 years ago
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Birthday Headcanons!
So my birthday was technically May 23...which is over a month ago 🙈 but for my birthday I wanted to type these headcanons up. Honestly each of these have no real connection to each other except I’ve just thought of them over time, but I just thought these would be fun to read. So I hope you enjoy them as much as I have when writing these up! 😁
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Billie Dean Howard
This filming trip has been a nightmare for Billie. She hardly got any content for her show, her rental car broke down while driving back to the hotel after a whole night of filming, and the next day rather than calling the rental car company, her assistant calls some local mom and pop garage to fix it.
So rather than taking the risk of having her assistant screw something else up, Billie goes to the garage herself. And she is sure that the mechanic will charge her more since she’s both a celebrity and a single woman with no one to back her up.
When the medium gets there the garage is completely devoid of any other people and the only sign of someone here is the radio blasting from the garage. So, after seeing absolutely no one for five minutes, she decides to just walk into the working area fully annoyed at the terrible service.
 Fortunately, she hears the man whistling to the music and struts over to see him working underneath the car. However, Billie interrupts his moment, loudly clearing her throat and saying excuse me in the snippiest tone she can muster. That makes him stop whistling and roll out from under the car.
 But Billie is shocked that this mechanic is no man. Oh no, you are a gorgeous woman even with smears of grease and dirt on your face and clothes. And this is the moment Billie realizes the appeal of butches.
When you roll out from under the car you assume this gorgeous woman is Billie judging by her fancy appearance and get up to introduce yourself. However, as you reach out to shake her hand you remember how dirty you are and back up, so you don’t get something on her clothes.
While Billie was filled with anger just minutes ago at her car being fixed, now she’s both surprised and unexpectedly aroused. You turn down the radio, knowing it’s obnoxiously loud and tell her you contacted the rental car company and they’re covering the cost of repairs, but you won’t be able to finish tonight so she’ll have to wait until tomorrow to drive the repaired car.
Then you throw out the offer in your own desire to see her that you have a spare room if her hotel reservation doesn’t have an extra night. Before you can even finish your sentence, Billie says yes and you would be lying if you denied your own joy at that.
So you tell her you’ll be done in a couple hours and ask if she wants to be dropped off somewhere while you work. But Billie says no. So you set out a clean chair for her to sit in before going back to work.
As you work you ask Billie what she’s doing in a small town like this. So she tells you about her TV show and when you find out she’s a medium you ask about it. At first Billie is hesitant to keep talking, but you assure her you love hearing her talk about her career.
So she tells you about everything—from her career to her checkered past and future desires. And in the process, she ends up sharing things about her life she’s never told anyone. But for some reason she just trusts you and doesn’t feel condemned or judged because of what she says.
The two hours fly by, but you’ve made substantial progress and tell Billie she should be able to head back home before noon tomorrow. However, after meeting you she is not so eager to leave anymore.
When wrapping up your work, you go through closing the garage and Billie observes you the whole time. You notice her checking you out as you walk around and work, but don’t mind. In fact you can’t help but check her too. 
Then you lead her out to your old pickup truck and quickly clean out the passenger side while apologizing for your messy car. But she doesn’t seem bothered. She’s too occupied with you to notice anything else.
As you drive home, you ask if she minds music and Billie says no. So you turn on the radio to a classic rock station. Then you absentmindedly start to sing along and Billie nearly swoons at the whole thing. No one has ever had this effect on her before. She’s supposed to be the one who makes others swoon. Not the other way around
But she likes it.
When you get to your home you coyly explain you need to take a shower before making dinner. But you mention that you don’t mind if she joins. Let’s just say...Billie jumps on the opportunity (and you) and even though she wasn’t that dirty, Billie takes special joy in washing you off and massaging away any tension or soreness you have.
After taking a shower that’s long enough for the water to run cold, you both step out and since Billie doesn’t have extra clothes you offer one of your old, oversized Harley Davison shirts to wear. Seeing her only wearing your shirt that falls about mid-thigh on her does things to you and when she sees you so effected she starts to get bold in her flirting too.
In the end you warm up some cheap, frozen meal that’s nothing fancy, but the whole time you’re getting it together, Billie is wrapped around you, hugging you from behind or your side earning the nickname “spider monkey.” When you actually sit to eat both of you watch the other closely with shared grins and small giggles. Then cleaning up is super easy with Billie’s help and you head over to your living room.
You sit in your recliner as usual and Billie pauses for a moment looking between you and the couch. But her eyes linger on you longer and seeing the debate in her head leads you to hold out your hand toward her, offering a solution. She takes it with a smile and you guide her to sit on your lap.
Once again she’s used to being the caretaker, but is glad to let someone else take the lead and easily cuddles into you as the tv plays. And although now words are spoken, the way you hold her in a warm embrace makes Billie no longer regret this trip. In fact, she may stay a couple more days if it means being with you.
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 Lana Winters
While you and Lana can’t get married or have an official wedding in the 1970s, you solidify your relationship by buying a house together.
It’s an old, cottage-like home without any prying neighbors around to spy on you both. When you first enter the home, in your excitement you pick Lana up and carry her bridal style across the threshold for the first time.
While you have the keys to the house, there’s still a lot of work to do to the point that it’s not livable yet. So you and Lana take the time to look around the home deciding how to decorate and design your home. Then you begin to clean the house.
Both of you work hard on dusting, vacuuming, and wiping down every surface in your home leaving you both sore. Luckily when you return to the apartment you currently live in both of you take a nice hot bath to soothe your sore muscles. And it’s good to just spend time relaxing together.
Once you finish cleaning, you work on painting and decorating each room with different vibrant colors. Fortunately, Lana brings her radio so you can both listen to music while painting. But it’s still exhausting work and leaves you crabby sometimes if you go too long without a break.
So when Lana notices you starting to look worn out or tired, she’ll set down her paint-roller before guiding you to set yours down. Then she’ll pull you into a spontaneous dance. Sometimes it’s slow and relaxed, and other times the music is fun and upbeat. Either way it does help you to feel better.
Even though both of you aren’t conventionally attractive at the moment, you have never felt more attracted to Lana with her barefaced, thoroughly worn overalls with paint speckled on them, and a simple ponytail. And she loves seeing you like this too, finding something about simple domesticity to be beautiful. 
The day you and Lana are finished painting, you start to pack up all of your belongings and slowly move them over to the house. It takes 5 trips between the places and even then you have the unfortunate realization that your mattress won’t fit into your car. So after wrestling with the bed for over an hour to no avail, you both are spent and give up.
Thankfully, Lana is a literal angel and when she sees you on the verge of tears, she runs out to bring home food from your favorite diner. And as she enters with the food you nearly cry in happiness. Then you eat your first meal on the floor since your table is covered in boxes.
After dinner before you can even ask, Lana guides you to climb into her lap and holds you close to her while you both take a moment to rest and listen to the radio. Even though you still have to set up your home it’s such a good feeling having everything here...well almost everything.
Because you couldn’t bring the bed over, you’re stuck with figuring out another option. So you unpack your blankets and pillows before laying them out on your carpeted floor in the living room.
Then you and Lana take a shower to unwind from the day and change into your pajamas. And even though it isn’t quite dark yet you slide under the covers and cuddle into each other, completely exhausted.
Once you’re settled you are finally able to hear the outside noises and it’s so different compared to ambient city sounds and you’ve never stayed out in the countryside before. So with each animal sound or gust of wind you perk up and grip on her while whisper asking if Lana heard it too.
She chuckles at your reaction and soothes that you’re safe with her. And to give you a small distraction from the eerie silence you talk about future house plans and keep softly talking until you both naturally fall asleep.
While you’re on the floor and it’s nowhere near as comfortable as your bed, you both sleep like rocks from working hard all day and end up getting more than 8 hours of sleep with no nightmares to haunt Lana’s dreams. 
The next morning you wake up to the sun shining in your eyes and Lana lazily rubbing your back as you rest on her chest. All of the sounds, smells, and sights around you are almost mystical compared to the city. But you can definitely get used to this.
You ask if you’re preventing her from getting up, but she says no and holds you closer while you both talk about different things, enjoying the unfamiliar, but pleasant feeling of the cool morning air and environment.
Eventually you do get up to make breakfast and while you’re on pancake flipping duty, Lana rummages around to find the coffee maker to make some. Fortunately, she finds it and brews some for both of you to drink. 
You eat your breakfast on the floor like last night before slowly beginning to unpack the boxes and setting up your home. And by the evening you are able to eat dinner at your table. Also, you somehow managed to finagle your bed into the car and set it up to sleep in for tonight.
Tonight both of you are much less tired so when you head to bed and Lana mentions that you haven’t technically christened the home yet. You are more than happy to make love in your new home for the first time without having to hold back or be quiet since there aren’t neighbors around.
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(https://duchessfics.tumblr.com/post/617775020854345728/gaia-ki-cordelia-saying-i-love-you-to-misty) 
Cordelia Goode
Is Cordelia the supreme? Yes. Did her wisdom teeth still grow in for some reason? Also, yes. Because they’re starting to cause problems, she visits the dentist and they recommend getting them removed. The only thing is she needs someone to drive her and take care of her while she heals but she doesn’t want to make a big deal out of it.
Mallory is busy with Coco, Zoe with Madison, Misty is off with Stevie god knows where, and Queenie knows of your crush for the supreme even if you won’t admit it. She’s seen you two tip toe around the topic and decides to volunteer you for the job so you’ll finally admit your feelings for her.
Honestly if Cordelia trusted anyone to take care of her it would be you. On the way to the dentist she’s eerily quiet. But even as the supreme, Cordelia is still human and feels anxious about the surgery. And in the car ride she drinks a tea she personally concocted with specific leaves to help wane her immunity as the supreme. It’s not that her powers are lost, they’re just dulled enough for the anesthesia to work.
By the time you’re at the office, her supremely glow is gone and to you she almost looks physically different. But you know the tea worked so both of you walk in and you keep on high alert for any possible threat towards your supreme.
Shortly after signing in they call Cordelia back to begin the process. You automatically stand up to go with her, but pause to ask if she even wants that. Before you can even finish your sentence, she takes your hand to keep you close.
Cordelia continues to hold your hand while she sits in the patient’s chair and the dentist explains what’s going to happen. And when they ask if she has any follow up questions, she’s too nervous to think of any, but you ask about a couple things that she’s grateful you think of.
Then they say they’ll get her ready for the removal. So you wish her luck trying to sound calm, but walk out to the waiting room feeling anxious as well. Within an hour the dentist comes out to you and says everything went well and she’s slowly waking up. So they let you go to her and tell you to take your time getting her up.
When you walk in and see your supreme reclined on the patient’s chair, she looks high as a kite. And your appearance makes her mumble something about her girlfriend. That catches your attention and you hesitantly ask who she’s talking about.
The question makes her have a fit of laughter however she groans in pain so you rush up to her to settle her back down. Then she clings to your hand and says with her mouth full of gauze that you’re her girlfriend because she loves you.
Or in her words she “loves you so, so, so, so, infinitely so’s y/n. Wait infinity loves. I loves infinity--wait I love infinitely. Y/n—fuck—I love you infinitely, infinity x infinity.” And you can’t help but giggle at your supreme confessing her love so clumsily.
But you quickly regret that when she begins to cry thinking you’re making fun of her. Before she gets too worked up you kneel before her and apologize saying you weren’t trying to make fun of her. You just thought she was cute.               
For some reason those words provoke her to try to sit up before standing up, but you snap into action and keep her from doing so, unsure if she even could stay standing at the moment. In response she tries to resist while growling with her mouth full of gauze that she’s the fucking supreme. And before she gets upset enough to trigger her powers you assure her that you know she’s the supreme and ask once she’s resettled ask how she feels.
That leads her to relax and tell you how she’s feeling. But as she does instead of using normal pet names towards you like “sweetheart” or “darling” she keeps calling you poptart and cheese-it. Both of which she never even eats. 
Fortunately one of the dental assistants brings in the take home kit with instructions. Then you help Cordelia up and slowly make your way home. But it takes everything in you to not laugh at her behavior.
When you get back to the house, you manage to sneak Cordelia to her room without running into anyone and by the time you coax her to gargle saltwater, take pain meds, and change her gauze she’s completely exhausted and you are too. So you prop her up so she doesn’t hurt her mouth when she sleeps before laying beside her on the bed. And the last thing she says is, “Love you, pop tart.” before you both fall asleep.
By the time you wake up to give Cordelia the second dose of pain medicine she already has her supremely glow back and is way more recovered than the average person. But you still. Help and feed her a small meal to prevent nausea. Then you help her gargle saltwater and replace the gauze and she passes out again.
24 hours later Cordelia is almost completely healed and takes care of herself. However she never mentions anything about what she said and doesn’t act differently whatsoever. You try to as well, but you just can’t forget her words. So you go to Zoe and explain what happened. She encourages you to be honest with the supreme and see how she responds. Then she assures you that Cordelia won’t be upset. If anything she has a soft spot for you.
That afternoon when you see Cordelia alone in the greenhouse you come out and hesitantly explain what she said the other day, but you also recognize that it was the anesthesia talking. While she didn’t remember that, she does admit she has feelings for you, and you admit you have feelings for her. So you decide to try going out on a date and she promises you that she won’t call you ‘pop tart.’ again.
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(https://stoneharts.tumblr.com/post/101329124928/bette-being-a-cutie-pie-in-4x04-edward-mordrake) 
Bette and Dot Tattler 
When you find out Bette and Dot have never been to the beach before you’re shocked because they live in Florida. But you also make a point to take them to one.
One day you wake them up while it’s dark and have them get dressed before leading them to your packed car. You know they aren’t big fans of surprises so when they sleepily what’s happening you say you’re going to the beach.
When Bette and Dot find out they’re both excited and nervous about sneaking out. But you assure them it’s a day off for everyone and you told Eve what you’re doing so she could explain where you are if anyone asks. So they happily get into your car.
You drive to a virtually private beach and lay out a blanket on the sand. Then the 3 of you sit together to watch the sunrise. For now you sit beside Dot and hold her hand, smiling as you hear their gasps of amazement.
Once the sun is fully risen you tell them to stay put and go back to the car. Then you bring back a breakfast you packed to share with them. Bette and Dot knew you loved them both, but they are still shocked at how thoughtful and considerate you are unlike nearly everyone else in their lives.
By the time you finish eating it’s fully light out so you can really see the full expanse of the Atlantic Ocean now. You offer to take them closer honestly Bette and Dot haven’t swam in years and have never been to a body of water large enough that you can’t see the other side. So, they’re a little apprehensive. 
You promise to stay with them the whole time and hold Bette’s hand as you murmur soothing words over the roar of the ocean and guide them closer.
When you get to the damp sand where waves briefly touch enough to change the texture, both Bette and Dot freeze up and won’t move. So you try to comfort them by saying you’ll step up first. Then you let go of Bette’s hand and walk only a couple steps away.
Both sets of eyes watch the waves rush over your feet and you assure them with a smile you’re ok and they will be too. Then you hold out your hands and beckon them closer. They cautiously step closer into the soaked and more shifty sand and Bette takes one of your hands while Dot takes the other.
When the water rushes over their feet they gasp and back up a little at the cold temperature. But you slowly guide them back and soothe it won’t be as cold this time.
They’re skeptical, but when the next wave comes and flows over all of your feet Bette and Dot don’t back away like last time. And when you ask if they’re ok and they say yes with cute little grins on their faces.
After a couple more waves all three of you walk back to your stuff and both women comment about the sand that gets stuck on their wet feet. So you pamper Bette and Dot by wiping their feet clean with a towel when you sit back on the blanket.
When it gets to mid-morning you pull out the matching sun hats you bought for them so they have some protection from the sun. Then the three of you go between lounging on the blanket and going to dip your feet in the water.
Eventually you bring out the lunch you packed and enjoy the meal of different sandwiches, fruit, and of course Bette’s favorite—cupcakes. And as the 3 of you eat and giggle with each other you notice how happy they look.
After you return the picnic basket to the car, you lead Bette and Dot back to the ocean. But this time you urge them a little further into the water. Unfortunately, there isn’t a swimsuit for them to wear and the only thing they have to wear is their dress. So you keep yours on too and keep them steady whenever the waves come. 
Because they can’t really swim that well you only go out until the water meets your knees and hug them close while softly encouraging them, knowing how nervous they are. Thankfully the water is calmer today so you help them to lower into the water and they get excited that they look ‘normal’ because the water is high enough to make their heads look separate from each other.
You understand their joy about for once in their lives not looking like freaks, but also assure them that you love them both just as they are. Bette and Dot will always be your girls. Then you help them stand back up and lead them back to your spot before setting up an umbrella to block out some of the afternoon sun. 
Then you lay out on the blanket and hold your lovers close to your chest while you dry off. The warmth of the sun feels like a blanket in itself and you end up falling asleep. 
When you wake back up, you panic at Bette and Dot being nowhere near you assuming the worst. But the wind carries their laughter and you look to see them standing by the water and they have their ankles submerged. So you walk over and see they look so happy with slightly burned pink noses and cheeks from the sun. Even Dot looks unusually happy.
Then the sisters thank you for taking them and making the day so special. And you assure both women you’re more than happy to do that for them before giving each woman a kiss. And while you need to head back to the freak show you promise to bring them back to the beach again.
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 Sally McKenna
After walking in to see your partner cheating on you in your own home you run off devastated. That’s how you end up stumbling into the Hotel Cortez, barely holding yourself together.
The first thing you do is tearfully check into the hotel and that’s when Sally notices you from the balcony. And after getting your room key you stumble up to the bar where Sally sits. But you don’t even notice her, lost in your own emotional state.
After ordering a drink you find yourself hiding your face and trying to be quiet when you cry and drink. But it’s clear to anyone around that you are miserable.
So Sally meanders over, preying on your vulnerable state, and claiming you as her next victim to kill. When she greets you and mentions your crying, you completely break down while explaining that you caught your partner having sex with someone else.
Then you mention how everyone always ends up leaving you behind in the end. Sally is caught off guard by the comment since she’s usually the one to say that. But she just assumes you’re trying to trick her only to take advantage of Sally with your tears. So she keeps buying you drinks to dull your senses and kill you.
Once you seem drunk enough Sally tells you she has an idea “to keep you distracted.” Of course she meant that in a seductive way. But her sultry, suggestive tone goes completely over your head and you say sure before leading her to your hotel room.
When you enter the room you ask if she’s ever seen your favorite childhood movie. The random question throws Sally off but she answers no, already working on removing her coat and deciding on how to kill you. 
Luckily with the freshly renovated hotel the TVs include streaming services, so you fall/hop onto the bed while excitedly telling her it’s on Netflix. Sally stops undressing when she sees you using the remote to find it and asks if you are seriously going to watch a dumb kids movie.
Her harsh tone makes you get emotional again and you pathetically whimper that you really like the movie, but you won’t make her stay and watch, knowing it’s lame. And something about your genuinely broken spirit makes her pause. 
Then she hesitantly says she’ll watch it, hoping you’ll pass out soon and killing you will be a lot easier. So you pat the bed inviting her closer and she slowly comes forward, shocked at how easily you let her in. But this isn’t Sally’s first rodeo and you’re not going to trick her that easily.
Throughout the movie you scoot closer to Sally and when your flesh touches hers she starts to feel something other than the empty and lonely feeling of death. There’s not a word she can think of to describe it, but it’s a warm comforting feeling. Almost like a hug. However she credits that to the alcohol so she doesn’t fall for you.
After the movie you tell Sally you’re going to order room service and ask what she would like. The blonde is once again taken aback at your consideration of her, but says she doesn’t want anything, starting to get annoyed at how kind you’re being to her.
So you order something for yourself and as you eat you ask about Sally and her past. However she snaps at you, saying you don’t really care or even if you do you’ll leave her when you learn she’s a monster. That’s when you notice fresh tears streaming down her face.
But you assure her that you’re not asking to be judgmental, just to care. So even though Sally doesn’t divulge everything, she does tell you some small parts of her past, anticipating your repulsion or disgust. However you do the opposite, pulling her into a hug and thanking her for trusting you enough to share.
By now Sally lets is more shocked than upset at your acceptance and you see her smile for the first time. Then you ask if she’ll stay for one more movie and she doesn’t hesitate to agree. This time while the movie plays you lean against her and without speaking she wraps her arms around you.
When tucked in Sally’s embrace you don’t feel her cold, dead aura whatsoever and snuggle into her further. In the process she is encompassed in your warmth and for a moment gets a glimpse at feeling alive once more.
By the time the credits roll you’re fast asleep in Sally’s arms and she remembers her plan to kill you earlier. But she decides against it. Not to make herself some superhero, but because for so long she has been the victim of rejection and you accepted her. You didn’t use her as something for selfish pleasure or take your anger out on her only to leave. Your care was unconditional.
When you wake up the next morning Sally is gone, leaving you confused and almost wondering if you had just dreamed about her. So before you leave, you go to the front desk and ask about Sally and if she’s checked out already. They tell you she’s still here so you leave a note for her before leaving.
It’s only then that Sally comes out from the shadows and looks to see what you wrote to her. And her heart melts when she sees that you thanked her for helping you to feel better and left your number in case she needed someone to talk to.
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 (https://charliewrites.tumblr.com/post/174967894140/sarah-paulson-in-american-horror-story-roanoke)
Audrey Tindall
Today is your 1 year anniversary of being Audrey’s girlfriend. So the actress specifically takes the day off to spend it with you. And for once she had the forethought to plan a whole day of activities to do together.
However before you can even leave the house, her first plan goes awry when you slip into her shower to “wish her a happy anniversary.” Did she make a breakfast reservation that you will be late for? Yes. But is she gonna turn down shower sex with you? Absolutely not.
But now because of that distraction Audrey is nearly down the driver’s neck trying to get them to go faster so you aren’t late. But they can only go so fast in stopped LA traffic. However you get her attention to show her one of those airplanes making a message in the sky, blissfully unaware of the stress Audrey is experiencing.
In the end you miss your reservation. However you believe she made the reservation for the place next door and ask how she knew it was your favorite spot. So Audrey just rolls with it and says it was instinct and you eat breakfast there. Then Audrey takes you to one of the walking trails up to the Griffith Observatory.
But you accidentally take the “scenic” trail and what should have been a 1 mile trek ends up being almost 3 miles. And that includes walking a half a mile on a side path thinking it’s the right way.
Because Audrey thought it was going to be a small walk she didn’t bring any water or tell you to wear walking shoes so you end up with some gnarly blisters on your heels. 
The actress feels horrible about it, but you assure her it’s fine and buy some flip flops and bottles of water from the observatory’s gift shop. Then you take your time to look around the observatory and absolutely love it.
Because the walk took so long, you end up eating lunch at some generic, overpriced but subpar lunch place attached to the observatory. The food isn’t great, but the view is amazing. And honestly you’re both so hungry that you’re willing to eat anything.
After this Audrey takes you to Venice Beach to hang out and shop around. But when you get there, the streets are closed off for a huge block party. And to make matters worse, people around begin to recognize her and come up asking for pictures and autographs. 
Audrey feels terrible about everything that’s going wrong and now she has to deal with a swarm of fans. Right away you see her trembling lip and tell people to back off. Then you guide her into a nearby antique shop. Luckily the owner saw everything and locks the door after you enter while saying you’re welcome to stay as long as you need.
You quickly thank him, but guide Audrey who has teary eyes to a section of the store that’s not visible to the windows and ask if she’s ok. While she’s clearly shaken up she nods. But she also tearfully apologizes for ruining the day.
However you silence her with a kiss and soothe she isn’t ruining the day at all. That’s when you both see an older woman you assume to be the owner’s wife and freeze up, concerned about how she will act about your relationship. But she just offers a smile and says she just made some lemonade, offering the privacy of their breakroom.
You follow her back and sit with the older couple while drinking lemonade and end up having a good time just listening to how they got together and they came to own the shop. By the time you say goodbye it’s nearly evening the group of fans is gone, but they let you exit out the backdoor just in case.
While walking down the street you pause at a local restaurant that looks delicious for dinner. Audrey goes to protest saying she made a reservation at some fancy, a-list restaurant. But honestly both of you look pretty rugged with no time to clean up and you are interested in going here. So she agrees to eating where you want since every other plan she’s made has gone to shit.
Because the restaurant is nearly empty of guests, when the server finds out it’s your one year anniversary, they offer a special discount and free dessert. Then they do their best to make the setting as romantic as possible.
In the process you meet the owner and their whole family when each one comes out to congratulate you on your anniversary. The food is delicious and even though Audrey had other plans, this is way better.
When you finish dinner, Audrey sees the sky is overcast to the point that you won’t be able to see the sun actually setting. But you assure her you would love to go to the beach anyways even to just to dip your feet in the water.
So you go to the nearest beach and while you walk along the shore (holding hands of course) you tell her you have loved today. She stops in confusion because everything that could go wrong did and she let you down. But you pull her close to kiss her lips and assure her that you wouldn’t change a thing about today and that you love her so much.
She happily replies that she loves you too. Then it starts to rain. And not like a light sprinkle either. It’s pouring rain that leaves you drenched to the bone within minutes. Audrey looks up and waves her fist at the sky as she curses it for raining this one night when it’s sunny in LA every other day.
But you giggle and end her dramatic monologue with a long kiss before running back to your car. By the time you’re riding home both of you are soaked. But you don’t mind and you promise Audrey that you have made some plans of your own for her when you get back to your bedroom.
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 Ally Mayfair-Richards
Recently Ally has been super busy working on her re-election campaign as senator. Of course you are her #1 booster and supporter. And you want to do something special for her to help lighten Ally’s load.
So tonight you and Oz decide to make a special dinner for Ally. As usual Ally texts you that she’ll be working late so you have plenty of time to work. Then Oz tells you her favorite meal and you both go out shopping to get the necessary ingredients.
Once you return, Oz pulls out the cookbook with the instructions and sits up on the countertop (Something Ally would NEVER allow) to stay next to you while reading the steps as you cook. But...here's the thing: You have no idea how to cook—at all.
So Oz grimaces as he watches you and tries to help you along with little helpful tips. But he’s a kid—not an experienced cook like Ally.
You struggle through it and know you’re messing things up. But you’re hopeful a couple mistakes here and there won’t be too noticeable. As you finish cooking, Ally texts you she’s headed home so you and Oz run around, setting the table and finishing the dinner. And as you haphazardly pour one of the wines you randomly picked into her glass (Because—let’s be honest you have no idea how to pair wine) the door opens.
As soon as Ally walks into her home, her nose wrinkles at the smell of burnt food and other concerning scents. So she calls out your name before doing anything else, hoping nothing happened, and you reply you’re in the dining room.
When she walks in, her eyes widen at seeing the dangerous-looking meal and Oz’s expression of concern and disgust. But her attention is drawn to you when you tell her you made dinner with a nervous smile.
Seeing all of the effort you put in makes Ally’s heart melt and even though she’s concerned, she goes along with it, thanking you and sitting down. She could struggle through one subpar meal to make you feel good—but then the three of you start to eat.
The first bite Oz takes, he gags and says “Yuck!” That makes Ally shoot him a warning look. However, she nearly chokes when she takes the first bite. So she tries to conceal that by washing it down with a generous sip of wine. But then she actually does choke at the horribly paired food and drink.
At this point you want to die in humiliation and hide your face in your hands. You know Ally is the “bread winner” so that should make you the homemaker. But you have no idea how to “home make.” That has never come natural to you. So you do one thing that you do know how to do and apologize.
Right away, Ally takes your hand and guides you to look at her while soothing that she doesn’t mind cooking. But you explain that you wanted to be helpful and alleviate stress and you just made everything worse for her. She assures you that she finds cooking to be cathartic and just having you and Oz around makes everything better.
So you throw away the disappointment of a meal and all 3 of you head into the kitchen. However most of the necessary dishes are dirty from your cooking so you offer to wash them while Ally takes off her makeup and gets into lounge clothes.
So she heads to your room and you and Oz get to work washing and drying the dishes. As you both finish up, Ally walks in to see him perched on the countertop and drying dishes next to the sink. So she scolds him about sitting there and Oz just throws you under the bus saying that you let him do that all the time.
You try to deny the accusation, but both Ally and Oz know you are horrible at enforcing rules, so you apologize and tell Oz in your “stern” voice no more sitting on the countertop. However, they both know if he sits up there and you’re home alone you’ll ultimately let him do it.
That’s the moment when you take in Ally. Not senator Mayfair-Richards, just your love, Ally with her oversized sweater and cute, little ponytail at the nape of her neck with a couple loose hairs that are too short to stay held back frame her face. 
You let her take the lead and watch her come alive as she does the cooking and delegates you to do different side tasks that don’t risk something being over or under cooked. Meanwhile Oz sits at the mini bar and tells his mom about his day. These ordinary moments between the three of you are not very common, but they’re your favorite moments.
In less than an hour, the 3 of you are back in the dining room with an excellent, homemade dinner. You all happily eat the late night meal before going over to the living room and watching a TV show Oz chooses.
He lays across your laps to watch it so he can lean on you while Ally gently strokes his hair and by the end he’s asleep. Then you gather him in your arms before picking him up and carrying him to his bed while Ally follows behind and whispers her shock that you can still actually hold him. Somehow he never wakes up so you gently lay him down and Ally tucks his blankets around him, placing a kiss on his forehead before walking out.
Then you both go down to the kitchen and Ally drinks a couple glasses of wine at the mini bar while you clean up from dinner. Of course she wants to help you, but you insist on her sitting while you take care of everything. And as you go, you ask how her day was.
Ally tells you about her long day and asks your opinion on a couple of the decisions she is considering. While you have little to no experience in politics, she’s thankful that you listen to her and if Ally asks, she knows you’ll always choose what’s best for her unlike other “helpful” politicians.
When you finish up, Ally walks over to you and admits that telling you what to do earlier as you both cooked felt good and asks if you would consider being told what to do in the bedroom by her so she could “relieve the remaining stress from the day.” Of course you are more than happy to oblige in submitting to Ally and let her guide you up to your bedroom.
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 (https://lauramaher25.tumblr.com/post/179727949356/ahs-ms-wilihemina-venable)
Wilhelmina Venable
You know Wilhemina truly loves you when she begrudgingly agrees to go to Disneyland for your birthday. Of course you butter up the deal by purchasing VIP passes so you don’t have to deal with lines—but still.
The night before you can’t hardly sleep because you’re so excited to go to the happiest place on earth for the first time. But Wilhemina makes you stay in bed even though you want to start getting ready for the day at 4 in the morning.
While you couldn’t convince Mina to “officially” disneybound with you, she does wear a casual plum-colored dress, black cardigan, and shorter heels than usual in the same dark purple as her dress. Even her ponytail for today is less formal then her work coiffure.
On the other hand, you’ve pulled all the stops to disneybound as Snow White. Your outfit has been planned for weeks down to the smallest detail and having your girlfriend looking like the evil queen will make amazing pics.
When you get to the park, you nearly bounce around like a kid with excitement. Wilhelmina watches you with narrowed eyes making her look even more like a Disney villain, but lets you have your moment, only complaining when you go to take a selfie with her. And even then, she manages to give a small smile in the photo.
After you pick up your VIP passes you go to get your pins for your first visit and your birthday. You also get a first visit pin for Mina, but that’s when you find out this isn’t her first time to Disneyland. Then you slowly make your way down main street, stopping to look at every shop. In the process you have the redhead help you choose between two sets of ears and choose a pair for her to wear.
If looks could kill, you would be on death’s doorstep from her glare. At first she says no and remains firm in her answer. However you pull the ole “it’s your birthday and your first time at Disneyland” card so she spitefully wears them, grateful that they’re at least purple. But when you go to buy more merchandise, Wilhelmina drags encourages you out to actually get to the rides.
After taking WAY too many pictures around main street and in front of the castle, you begin to make your way through the park. Your first attraction is the tiki room. Then you share your first dole whip before going on the Jungle Cruise.
That ride just about kills Wilhemina and with each corny joke she lets out a soft groan, pained at how dumb these jokes really are. But she tries to not ruin the moment for you. Meanwhile you crack up at every joke.
Next you ride Pirates of the Caribbean and love it, constantly looking around to take everything in and pointing out Jack Sparrow each time as if Mina doesn’t notice the very obvious lighting and animatronic of him. On the other hand, the red head totally forgets there’s a drop and she lets out an adorable little squeak in surprise that only you hear. Because you like it so much you ride it again and ride Haunted Mansion twice too.
In between the attractions you practically skip along and with any character you pass—literally any character—you will wave at them and would stop to take photos, but Wilhemina drags you along keeps you moving.
As you walk through the park, you notice a couple kids gasp when they see Mina or point at her. Of course the redhead is offended and cold towards them, but then you realize they’re calling her princess Ariel. And at one point while you’re sitting to eat some churros a little girl shyly comes up to you both and says to Wilhemina that she’s her favorite princess before asking how Flounder and Sebastian are doing.
Mina is flabbergasted and for a moment just looks at the girl with wide eyes, bewildered that she would ever think of Wilhemina as a princess. However she pulls herself together enough to say that they're doing well. Then the girl says goodbye and runs back over to her family.
And while Mina has never been a kid person, being called a “princess” by different kids does make her smile a little bit. No one else would notice, but you do.
When you pass by Splash Mountain Wilhemina says no when you ask to ride. So even though you plead to go on it, you keep walking. The only other attraction she says no to is It’s a Small World. Even passing by the facade and hearing the faded music makes her shudder and declare she would rather puncture her own ear drums than go through that.
When it comes to the parade, even though Mina hates crowds, she sits with you and watches you call out to characters like the other kids around. Of course she gives you her trademark look of silently asking if you are really acting like this. However the redhead does secretly find it a little adorable.
Tomorrowland is your last “land” and that’s when you find out Mina kicks ass at Buzz Lightyear’s Astro Blasters. The first time you rode she blew you out of the water and ranked as a 1st class Ranger with a whopping score of 749,000 points and the next time she scored even higher.
For dinner you reserved a special table where you can watch the fireworks while eating. However during the whole show you forget to even touch your food, gasping at everything that happens and trying to take it all in. And because you look so damn adorable, before “rational Mina” can make an executive decision, “impulsive Mina” tells you she’ll ride Splash Mountain if you still want to.
You have never eaten a meal so fast in your life and when you finish you practically run to the ride, thanking Mina the whole walk there. Here’s the thing though—she thought it was an up and down one drop deal, like any other log ride. To the point that she took on the noble task of sitting in front of you so you wouldn’t get you special handmade Snow White dress damaged by water. Oh no, there are 3 drops. 3. So by the time you get off poor Wilhemina looks like a drowned cat. But the picture of your faces on the final drop is just too good to not buy it.
And on the way back, even though she’s soaked with cold water, you keep close to Mina on the monorail packed with people headed back to your car. And it feels so good to have her close to you whispering to ask if you had a good birthday. You know this is something she would never, ever choose to do. But her consideration touches your heart and you answer yes before thanking her once again for doing all of this.
Tagged: @marilynroselleprentiss, @saviorinsilk, @chokemepaulson, @versonstar, @find-me-a-constellation, @cordwliagoode, @psychobitchtess, @midnight-lestrange, @mysweetdelia, @venablesbitch, @peachesandlesbians, @nerdaroo, @cordeliafoxxe, @leskaksel, @lovelymspaulson, @grilledcheeseandguavajelly, @whatabluddymess​, @natasha-danvers, @saucy-sapphic​, @marvelfansince08love​, @wilheminawinters​
Let me know if you would like to be tagged in later works!
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n5md · 3 years ago
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Jason van Wyk
Jason van Wyk's fourth full-length Threads is out now. We wanted to learn a bit more about this South African composer.
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Thanks for taking the time to chat with me in our continuing "Learn more about..." articles.
Let's jump in with a sort of elephant in the room regarding the van Wyk musical canon, Trance. I often see on social media people ask you about your early discography and if you will ever revisit that genre. It seems you have quite a following within that scene.
There seems to be some overlap in that style, and say your debut album Days to Remember. While there is an emotional core to each style, they almost seem like night and day, regarding mood and construction. It seems some switch was flipped around 2013. What prompted the change?
Around that time I started doing music for film and that really shifted my interests in music altogether. I was listening to more electroacoustic and experimental music then too, whereas Trance was going through a bit of a stylistic change at the time. Days You Remember I still consider, in hindsight, a Trance album in many ways, but after that came out I decided to take a break from it. As for returning to Trance, I'd like to return to doing club music at some stage. What style and genre that will be though, I'm not entirely sure yet.
I can see where doing music for film would facilitate a change to be more cinematic. Electro-acoustic and ambient lend themselves to film very well. You do have a good number of documentaries and a couple of features in your filmography. Because your current output is very cinematic, was there any one film soundtrack you were involved in that might have been pinnacle in the trajectory to where you currently are musically? It would be also interesting to know which of these works for film you enjoyed doing the most, as to give readers a jumping off point if they wish to seek out your soundtrack work.
Not particularly. When I started working in music for film, it was in an “additional music” capacity. I worked under other composers on many different types of projects, ranging from shorts to documentaries to independent features. It afforded me the opportunity to work in different styles and familiarize myself with new ways of working. That all broadened my outlook on composition, music production and the type of music I wanted to make in my solo career moving forward.
So far I’ve been credited on only one feature that’s been released—a horror/thriller called Triggered, which came out last year that I co-composed with fellow South African composer Andries Smit. That narrative process of writing music really works for me and it’s something I’ve followed when approaching my album work too.
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This very sort of narrative is woven through your new album Threads. Everyone I think will assume, based on when we are releasing it, that it is a "pandemic record" but it was for the most part completed prior to everything going to shit. You had sent in some tracks prior to its completion that had a more electronic style but Threads morphed into, for lack of a better term, visceral ambient. Not something you can just have on in the background, it demands your attention. As the pandemic hit I really gravitated to it. I kind've think of it as a dark record for you. What influences if any affected this shift in tone and mood?
That’s correct. I started it back in 2018 and the final mixes were finished during our lockdown last year.
I can’t say there was a specific influence. Threads went through quite a long period of experimenting before something started to take form. I remember those first drafts I sent over to you were definitely on the brighter side to what eventually became the album, but in the end, I just went with what naturally took shape from those months of experimenting. I worked in a similar way for my previous two albums, but Threads took a lot longer to nail down.
I seem to remember you posting about getting some new gear while writing the album. Have there been some new studio purchases in the last couple years that were paramount in the direction the experimentation in composing for Threads?
I actually ended up using the SH101 the most out of my analog synths. I started using it for Light Burns Out at first, then before I knew it, it had worked its way onto most of the tracks. The Juno 60 and Moog Voyager were also used a fair amount as well as my Roland tape echos. I bought an Oberheim OBXa in 2019, which was intended for the album, but it needs a service and I haven’t managed to get that done yet. Hopefully, it finds its way onto the next one.
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Nice, a surprising number of mono synths on there. Those synths are also tough to spot, as the music on Threads seems to have no clear reference point.
Definitely. Everything was heavily processed. A lot of the synthetic sounds, if you had to single them out, would probably surprise you as they were more than likely acoustic to begin with.
This brings me to theme, while the album is solely instrumental, was there a specific theme behind it?
Well, with all four albums so far, I’ve tried to rely more on an overall mood and atmosphere rather than a specific theme. While there is a narration that runs through them, the “theme” I’d say is the mood.
Threads is out now. https://n5.md/291b
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lumoshyperion · 3 years ago
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5, 6, 27, and 29!
5. Last sentence on an angst wip
“How are you always so -” Albus cut himself off and waved his hands, struggling to find a way to express what he wanted to say. “How are you always so
 happy? I mean - doesn’t it bother you?” Karl tilted his head. “Always feeling what everyone else is feeling?”
“Of course it does. It’s so overwhelming, sometimes,” He replied - staring up at the ceiling with a furrowed brow, before looking back at Albus. And there was that easy smile again. “But you don’t just feel the bad things. You feel the good things, too.”
Albus glanced away and tugged at the hem of his jumper. His instinct was to disagree, but he knew he was right.
6. Last sentence on a fluff wip
“Karl!” Teddy interrupted Albus, who spun around and went back to sorting through his inks. “Can I ask you something?”
“Uh, yeah, of course,” Karl replied, as he came back from the staff room.
“I’m working on a design at the moment, can you tell me if this line is straight?”
There was a pause, as Karl presumably examined the drawing. “Yeah, it looks straight!” He exclaimed. “Unlike me.”
Albus abruptly bumped the trolley with his knee, almost scattering his inks across the floor of the studio.
But Teddy ignored his distress and said, “thanks, Karl!”
27. Hardest wip you’ve written?
Definitely the sequel to 'I am more than these bones'. I know what the plot is, and I know what I want to do with the themes and the characters, but it's just... hard? I don't want to get it wrong? I know how to write Astoria, but this is a different Astoria. She's been through different things and now she's in what feels like an impossible situation. She's displaced from her own reality - Voldemort is dead, Harry is alive, the war is over, and she's safe. So why does she still feel so scared and unhappy?
It would be easy to just write her as relieved to be there, and falling back into a tenderness and vulnerability with Draco as if the other reality never existed. But that's... not what I want to write, and it also feels disingenuous to Astoria and her experiences? There's a lot of push and pull in the story, as Astoria grapples with the loss of her old life and tries to settle into her new one, all the while feeling as though she's taken someone else's place - the Astoria who lived and who died in this reality.
And that's just... hard to write. It's hard to communicate that feeling, without leaning too heavily towards one side or the other. Because I want the reader to understand that while she is relieved to be there, that doesn't mean she's perfectly happy. And just because she misses aspects of her old life, doesn't mean she wants it back? Usually I'm able to lean on a lot of my own experiences while writing, but it's impossible to associate a feeling like that with anything I've gone through.
So I'm really just... listening to Astoria and seeing where the story takes her. But it's hard. She doesn't know how she's feeling or when she'll ever feel at home again. I've written mostly major plot points within the story and avoided the in between spaces where the characters have to actually talk to each other. Draco and Astoria love and know each other well enough that I do believe they'll find each other again, they just need a lot of time. It's a very melancholic fic, and I know that's not really something people want to read, but I hope it doesn't flop too hard. It's a fic entirely from Astoria's POV, which feels so rare? And there's a lot of flashbacks to the dark AU, so we get to see rebel Astoria, which is something I'm so excited about. We never see her in this capacity and it's what she deserves tbh.
29. Music or no music?
Music! Definitely music. I live near a train station and in an apartment building, so I like having something playing while I write to block out all the sounds of metropolitan living. Usually it's a Ghibli ambient playlist on YouTube (I love this cello collection and this piano collection a lot. Anything with rain or a crackling fire is always really cosy and reminds me of home) or it's a playlist on Spotify. I made one specifically for my Spiritfarer AU, but I've been listening to it a lot lately whenever I'm writing! It's more Ghibli music, plus a few other soundtracks and some indie folk music.
ask game for writing wip hoarders!
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