#band knife cutting machines

[welcogm]

High-Precision Band Knife Cutting Machines by WelcoGM

Explore WelcoGM's advanced band knife cutting machines, designed for precision and efficiency in cutting. As a leading manufacturer and supplier of high-quality laundry and garment machinery, including barrier washer extractors, press fusing machines, and transfer foil machines, WelcoGM caters to industries in Noida, Mumbai, Ahmedabad, and across India. Elevate your production standards with our cutting-edge solutions tailored to meet your needs.

[darkbluekies]

Okay but a darling who has a blood phobia? It comes often with the fear of needles/syringes so after reading your Dr. Kry OneShot of reader being scared of needles I thought about the phobia.

And here are my thoughts :D Hope you don't mind 💕🙈 i tried my best to make it as authentic as possible with all the yanderes!

Tw: mentions of blood, murder, maybe gaslighting/manipulation, phobia

Edmund would be the WORST and most likey cause the phobia rather it being a thing before meeting him lol. But I am not sure if the phobia alone would be enough for him to consider not to kill in front of his queen anymore. Maybe the ball massacre would be enough and only time, but since his nature is unpredictable, there is no guarantee. Although he grows worried when his queen gets her periods everytime...

Dr. Kry would even have a much. harder. time. when it comes to blood tests and the first appointment might be where he finds out about his darling's phobia. At this point would put darling to sleep whenever he needs to take a test

Or oh boy, when darling gets her period in the first month they spend at the hospital? He would come into the room to find a passed out darling on the bathroom floor. At first he is shocked until he saw that they had bled through, a pad under their hand, and quickly understands the situation. He would be even frustrated that from all the 3-4% of the population fearing blood, darling happens to be one of them. Before darling wakes up in bed, he already had sorted out everything.

After that he would absolutely keep track on their cyclus and warn them just in time. He might be even persistent to change the menstruation pads/tampons and even washing the clothes if they got dirty, so darling doesnt have to see it at all. Maybe he would consider doing a therapy if it's really bad, so darling would feel better and won't faint every time they could get badly hurt y'know. But if they feel too anxious and dizzy, they can call him anytime :)

I think it's obvious that he's my favourite *^*

Silas would notice that darling doesn't look at him at all when he comes back. They could smell the irony scent and are imagining the worst so they avoid looking at him at all costs. Only once, when Silas forces darling to look at him, they faint as soon as the speckels of blood appear in their vision and then he understands what's the matter after panicking for good 10 seconds

He would probably care enough afterwards to change his clothes and shower everytime before entering the bedroom after a bloody mission. The dirty clothes would be in the washing machine and out of it before darling comes with their laundry next. Better be safe than sorry again.

Hedwig would feel so bad and sooo worried man, haha /_\

I haven't read everything yet but I think she would find out about the phobia after cutting herself on paper by accident and asking for a band aid. Darling instantly sprints to the aid box and bring it to her. being all anxious but trying to remain calm which they fail to hide (Hedwig hasnt grasp of the matter yet and thinks they are worried about her and finds it even cute... at first👀) Only when darling turns around and sees the blood, instantly dropping on the floor and hell breaks loose lmfao.

Or, on a sleepover at her house where she kills an intruder/stalking classmate/whoever. Darling comes down bc they want to drink water, only too see a scene of their yandere girlfrind with a bloody knife. Instantly dropping on the ground. When waking up a hysterical Hedwig is all over them, questioning if what they saw was real and why on earth she was holding a bloody knife at 3am. Hedwig might have the luck that darling isn't sure of the body, which was lying on the ground, was real too and would gaslight darling in order to keep her facade up.

Jerry was the hardest to imagine imo. So I apologise beforehand.

I can imagine her being worried and trying not to expose their darling to blood as best as possible but I can also imagine her using it to her advantage to "play" with darling or forgetting sometimes that they can't see blood, coming home with some cuts and bruises and darling passing out. And Jerry be like: "Ah sh*t. I forgot."

Ahhh I hope you like what I had in mind! You absolutely made me go brainrot with your stories, they are all soo good \*~*/ i almost read everything by now heh~

If you like asks like this let us know. I would to love share more but I dont want to post them randomly in my feed ._.

They're your OCs afterall ❤ love each of them!

Have a wonderful day my dear! ♡♡♡

Aww I loved this so much!!! It is nice to be the reader for a change🥹🥹

I'm impressed that your visions fit with mine! The only thing I'd add is that I think that Jerry would try to get you over your phobia by ... uh ... exposure therapy :)

I really liked this, thank you so much♡♡

[unknownperson246]

Here’s a rockstar crime fic

Modern Nikki who’s a serial killer eyeing an innocent waitress who works in the sunset strip

Part 2

Killer On the Loose

Words: 1,169

warnings: *angst* *cussing* *crime* *killing mentioned* *cutting* *hurting* *shooting mentioned* *kidnapping* *being tied up*

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

You see this very popular rockstar who was performing on the stage with his band called Motley Crue. He sat down at a table while the rest of the band went out the door. He sat down in his glam metal get-up. You recognized his outfit from his music video “Shout at the Devil”.

They play that video all the time and you are sick of the song especially when they perform it live at the bar every once in a while. You go up to him with a notepad and a pen to get his order.

“Hi sir, what would you like today?” 

“Hi, please call me Nikki,” He said, trying to break the ice.

“I would just like one coke” Nikki smiles and makes eye contact with you.

“Is that all Nikki?” You ask, making sure it was all Nikki wanted.

“Yes Y/N,” He said looking at your name tag.

You go back to the vending machine to get his can of coke.

“I just found my next victim” Nikki chuckles at his sick thought.

“You're going to have fun tonight baby” Nikki smiles as you make your way back with his can of coke.

You set it down at his table and leave to get other people's orders. You go over to the next table and ask what they would like. Nikki keeps looking at you. You were scared of him. You felt uneasy and you wanted to disappear. You felt uncomfortable at the way he sipped his can of coke and how he was staring at you with his red eyes. He looked like a devil. It's been a couple of hours and he is still there. You decide to ignore him and go on doing your job. You turn your back on him and he is gone. You sigh in relief and you go on doing your job. Your shift is over and you go outside to go home. You suddenly feel a man's touch on your back. You can recognize the man's stare. It was Nikki. 

“Nighty night babe,” He says while putting a chloroform-soaked cloth against your nose. You immediately recognized his voice. You pass out within seconds. Nikki makes sure no one sees him and he carries your limp body to his car. His whole band is in the car staring at you with smug smiles. They all kidnapped you. You wake up in an abandoned house with ropes tightened on your body. 

“What the” 

You get cut off by Nikki.

“Hey babe. Do you remember what happened last night?” He smirks with a knife in his hand. “Fuck you,” You say on the verge of tears.

“Someones feisty. There is no need for cussing,” Nikki says.

“I'll say whatever the fuck I want to say and that is funny coming from a fucking psycho rockstar” 

“You know you're annoying. You would be way more prettier if your tongue didn't run like that” 

“Now how about we make you prettier princess” He holds his knife to your tongue. 

“What the fuck?” You scream.

Tommy and Vince come in.

“Now look at what we have here�� Tommy chuckles.

“You people are evil. What are you going to do? You and your gang of killers cant fucking get away with this.” You scream.

“Woah she's a real chatterbox” Vince chuckles.

“Maybe we need to tape her mouth,” Tommy laughs.

“You people are fucking pussies.” You yell as Vince brings the tape closer to your mouth.

As a warning Vince cuts you a bit to show you that they really would hurt you. Your words are mumbled as you try to talk with the tape on your mouth. “Fuck you” you try to yell.

They hit you with the chloroform again. You fall asleep on the floor where they tied you up. They removed the tape because you were finally quiet. They all watch you sleep admiring how pretty you were when you kept your mouth shut. “Look at her she is so pretty” Vince coos as his hand goes through your hair.

You start to mumble words in your sleep.

“No, please don't kill me. Please don't kill me!.” You sob in your sleep.

They felt some pity but they weren't going to hurt you after talking about it. They just wanted to kidnap you for money. They all agreed that if you pulled a dumb move then Nikki would be the one who killed you. Nikki had a soft spot already growing for you in his heart.

You wake up again and start to yell and scream for help after you help police sirens around the abandoned neighborhood.

“Shut the fuck up before I blow your brains out!” Nikki yells frustrated with you. 

You map out an escape in your head. Your plan is to run away when they are asleep or when they are only one of them to keep an eye on you because fighting one person is easier than fighting a whole group of people. The next day Nikki and Tommy say they're going out to find a new victim to kill.

“Hey Vince, are you sure you can take care of her alone?” Tommy asks.

“Yeah I mean how hard could it be she’s fucking tiny!” Vince laughs.

Tommy and Nikki leave with all their weapons.

“Vince could you please go get me some Advil and pads i’m on my period” You whimper in pain.

“No. I need to stay here and watch so your ass doesn't escape.” Vince says.

“Vince, I promise I won't try anything. Please can you go and get my things. It hurts so fucking bad” You start to cry.

“Fine fine just don’t start all the hormonal shit with me” Vince gruff’s. Vince grabs his car keys in front of you. “You better not try anything princess” He gruffs as he walks out the door.

You scan the room to find anything to cut the ropes. You slide on the floor so you could try to grab the knife that Tommy left. It's on a high place so you knock it over and you successfully grab the knife with your mouth. 

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck” You scream out of frustration with you.

You try to cut the ropes. You cut the ropes in under ten minutes. You walk out of the door with your hands free and you escape. You run to where you hear the police sirens and ask for help. By the time you were out of the house Vince came back with the stuff you asked for. He was angry when he saw that you weren't in the room anymore.

“Damn it” Vince says angrily.

He calls Tommy and asks for backup but it is too late. The cops were coming to get them.

“Motherfucker” Vince said when he heard police sirens approach. Vince sneaks out the back and gets in his car. He slips away and the police never find Tommy Vince or Nikki again in that state. 

[sugoi-writes]

Scream Machine - An Alastor x Reader fic

(Not sure if this will be a multipart yet or not, but hopeful for it to be! I hope you enjoy some brain rot with me! For reference of the song, look up Scream Machine by Maynard Ferguson on Youtube!)

Reader is a musician who started playing in their time in hell, and likes wearing heels/dresses. Alastor is brought to a "classy" speakeasy by Husk, and is perfectly content with watching your performance...

No warnings, past minor implications/pining and mentions of blood and darker intentions. Have fun! 🎙❤️

❤️🎙❤️

The hellish speakeasy was bellowing with lively chatter, instrumentalists setting up for a new set. As Husk adjusted his mouthpiece, Alastor gives him a beckoning wave, eyebrow twitching. Shit

Knowing his goose could be cooked, Husk trudges his way over, his tenor saxophone hanging lazily around his neck," What's the matter?"

Alastor, expression blunt, says" So I'm supposed to assume that this next chart... ugh, Scream Machine... is going to be... tasteful?" The Radio Demon looked forlorn, ears drooping slightly. He had been promised performances that were more his style. But all that he's observed and heard is BAD jazz. He had half a mind to think that his 'associate' had done this on purpose.

"I have to admit, Husker, while these pieces could certainly be called JAZZ... it's not quite to my tastes." Husk rolls his eyes, ears perking up when his name is called from the stage. Husk waves Alastor off dismissively, his saxophone being slung back to a playable position.

"Some new hot-shot features in it... 'figured you might give it a shot. You might just find a new 'pet' to listen to..." Alastor all but cackles, wiping a stray tear from his eye," Replacing you, dear Husker? Don't be absurd!" Alastor gives his henchman a cheeky wave of his fingers, making the anthropomorphic cat growl. God, Husk hated that fucker...

But, to Alastor's surprise, his eyes did befall a nearly angelic sight. Your shoes clicked loudly as you entered the stage, calling forth attention from the room. It quickly fell to silence as everyone waited for the performance to start.

Alastor's eyes narrowed as he watched you shake hands with the vile, modern jazz conductor... Your grip seemed firm, domineering almost. He was quick to note the flinch he gave you, that nervous smile of an intimidated man. What a curious creature you were; you oozed confidence and bravdo.

There you were, dressed in a long, elegant gown that drug along the floor. Alastor's posture straightens as the jazz conductor let you take your place, before counting the band off. The intro was quiet, featuring only a small handful of instruments. Alastor nearly leaned in as it grew, the trumpets coming in to the fray after a few measures. He realized then that you must be a trumpet player and the hot shot soloist that Husk mentioned. His interest in you grew as he eyed you from across the room.

Your hands were slender, though not quite as slim as his... and much smaller. But, they did seem very nimble. As you gracefully glided through different fingerings and positions, Alastor found himself distracted by your hands. He saw how you seemed to have a loose, almost nonchalant grip, while your soul gave the performance of your life. A perfect juxtaposition between your handshake and now; that fascinated him. He wondered if your bravado was your mask, or if that was the REAL you...

His hair nearly blew back from his face as the chorus kicked in, eyes wide in disbelief. Indeed, that's why it's called Scream Machine. All the right notes, the chords were perfectly struck...but there was still a zanny dissonance that had him gritting his teeth. How gauche...

But, when you began your solo, his ears couldn't help but flick and flex towards you, absolutely devouring your tone and clarity. You cut through the ensemble like a well sharpened knife, your style and timbre undeniable. It almost made the song forgivable, in his eyes. He rested his chin on his hand's plateau, eyes lidded. Despite the jazz being more bombastic and modern... he could get used to this if you were at the helm...

You sauntered towards the front of the ensemble as you blazed into another solo, your fingers and tongue articulating quickly. You were effortlessly setting the newfound tone. He was impressed, to say the least. Improv or not, the solo was quite a tricky one. One that even he would struggle with on a piano. As you walked across the stage, you struck a powerful pose, before the conductor grabbed the edge of your dress and tugged. Hard.

For a moment, a flash of anger crossed Alastor's forced smile, until he was hit with the "reveal".

In a quick flourish that matched the highest note of your solo, you stood in a now short, golden dress that hugged your figure. It seemed that Alastor didn't mind the show... in fact, he was nearly enslaved by your performance.

You shot the crimson and pitch demon a devious look, winking as your solo continued. Alastor felt his mouth salivating, swallowing harshly to get rid of the access fluids. It was strange enough to find himself this entertained... more so than his heightened curiosity.

The way your throat bellowed and constricted when you were playing... the way your cheeks puffed just a bit was you sustained insane, high notes... the way your eyes would flit about the room, but always land on him. Maybe he wasn't the only one caught staring...

The Radio Demon's mind landed on a simple notion: tasting the metallic tang of your lips, fresh from the kiss of your mouthpiece. Would it taste metallic and jarring like blood, he wondered? Would you be breathless from your performance, or just getting warmed up? Alastor shook his head with a start. What a strange thought to have... especially for him. He tried to dismiss it, foot tapping instinctively to the beat.

As the song continued, it suddenly grew quieter, the piano, drumkit, and string bass the only instruments playing. He watched as you blew slow, hot air in your horn, keeping it warm as you rested. Your lips were red, slightly puffy from your efforts. Even as a talented as you were, you had a crack in your mask: you were definitely a little winded.

As he kept watching you, Alastor couldn't help but focus on how your pulse beat in time with the music on stage... His devious mind cooked up the idea of sinking his teeth into your quivering heartbeat... Perhaps he would lure you out back, to a quiet place...

Again, he surprised himself. He had to clear his mind as he tried to focus anywhere but your neck, fingers and face.

Then suddenly, the main motif hit again, and he nearly fell backward in his chair. His own heart thumped madly, matching your own. Your eyes didn't meet his, but even so, he felt like you were playing just for him. He WANTED you to play just for him.

Alastor gripped the sides of his chair harshly, elongated talons splintering the wood. That settles it. Husker was right about one thing... you were a fascinating sight... one to behold, and maybe even held...

As the song wound towards its conclusion, you gave a wide twirl of your hips, before striking your final note. The accompaniment roared life, sustaining the final note before hitting it again, resolutely. Applause echoed throughout the room as Alastor felt the need to join. He was not keen on appearing rude or uncultured. His characteristic smile stretched his thin face as you beamed and bowed. Your eyes, wide with awe, glanced his way. Alastor noted the way your face heated, nodding and giving him a flattered smile.

Indeed that settles it; he would speak with you. Now. Alone... And from there, who knows what he'll do? Alastor slunk into the shadows, Husk unaware that his master was taking a quick detour...

Backstage, you were being fawned over and cheered for, the instrumentalists and crew happily contesting how talented you were. You would always smile and chuckle, doing your best to wave off the compliments. Truth be told, you did enjoy the hell out of them, but you didn't want it all to go to your head. Not yet, anyway~

Even now, you were humble, as a unfamiliar shadow formed behind you. Instinctively, you flinched and turned towards the figure, having to look up to meet the gaze.

It was none other than Alastor, the Radio Demon.

"I must say... that was quite the riveting performance, dear. Quite the act! I wanted to give you my gratitude for making something so loud and gauche bearable to listen to." Alastor offered a sweet, welcoming hand, outstretched for you to take. Come on, he thought... shake his hand like you had the conductor's.

You had sized him up, knowing fully well who was paying you the backhanded compliment, "Alastor, sir... 'pleasure to be meeting the Radio Demon in the flesh." Your hand met his, and just like he suspected; you nearly held him in a vice grip. The sinister smile on his face doubled, a chuckle and a quirked brow sent your way.

"My, do my ears deceive me? Am I in the presence of a fan~?" The tone of his microphone filter made his voice smooth as velvet. His voice forced you to suppress a shiver. You roll your eyes, before an uncharacteristically soft smile graces your face; one that didn't match your firm grip.

"You could assume that, I suppose... I've been an active listener to your broadcasts for a while now. 'Gotta keep up with who got got... and who has the best music on the air."

If Alastor smiled any wider, he would be entering his full-demonic form. But for now, he controlled himself.

"Well, isn't this a treat then..." Alastor leans down to your height, his face mere inches from yours," I dont intent to be forward or crass, but perhaps you could accompany me on a quick stroll?"

You swallowed the lump in your throat as you processed his words. Knowing that he was an overlord, his words were a demand, not a request. If you refuse, you may die. If you go with him... you may die just the same. Every fiber in your being demanded that you turn him down. Lie, and say you have one more set...

You puffed out your chest, a brave grin on your face," Sure... My chops are busted from that last set. Let's bounce."

Alastor offered you an arm, something you weren't expecting. You hesitated a beat longer than you should have before taking it. Alastor's grip now firm, you felt yourself bend and wane before solidifying just outside the joint you played in. Your head turned quickly towards the door, then him.

"So you can teleport other people too...," Good to know, you thought, as Alastor laughed.

"Dear, why fight the crowd? I figured it would be easier this way, don't you think?" You returned a nod to him, keeping your mask sharp as the two of you started your way down the block. You realized then you'd have to return tomorrow for your trumpet. But again, that wasn't the most worrying thing on your mind just yet...

You were weary of the entire encounter, but continued to follow the Radio Demon, who seemed a little too hellbent on getting you alone...

[a-crumb-of-whump]

Common Household Items to Whump Your Whumpee With

Content: Vampire whump, tiny whump, suffocation/asphyxiation, heat whump, restraints, gags, burns, burned alive, auto-cannibalism, drowning.

Choke them with a chord.

Stab them with a butter knife or a fork.

Force your vampire whumpee to hold silverware.

Force them to put their hand on a hot stovetop.

Suffocate them beneath a mattress.

Gag them with a cloth/a piece of clothing.

Drown them in a bathtub.

Force them to wear warm clothes on a hot day.

Tie your tiny whumpee up with a hair-tie/elastic band.

Beat them with a pot or a pan.

Cut them with a kitchen knife.

Put your tiny whumpee in the dishwasher/laundry machine.

Sew their lips shut with a simple needle and thread.

Use them as a pin pillow while you do your crafts.

Make them hold hot plates of food for an extended period of time.

Make them eat raw food that is bound to make them sick.

Toss an immortal into the fireplace and watch them try to crawl their way out.

Cooking a part of whumpee's body into every meal and forcing them to eat it.

[sirthisisa-wendys]

I’m the one who asked about the flashback for Ran! Just sending it back as you asked :) I’m so excited to see what you came up with, I was racking my brain for something and I couldn’t come up with an exact scenario. I just love the way you write his raw emotions and how much he loves the reader, and is tortured by what happened to her, and them suffering through the aftermath even though Mikey’s gone.

I actually found a plot point I missed when reviewing the old parts of the story! FLASHBACK FLASH BACK (you'll get another "flashback" after this one that rounds them out. I'm taking this concept and running with it.)

Hand Her Over (Part 7 - A FLASHBACK): Ran Haitani x Fem!Reader

wc: calculating...

tw: flashback, angst, drinking

masterlis

Hand Her Over Megapost

The cap to the wine bottle comes undone with a loud pop. Ran tilts the glass just so, intent on catching every single drop left in the almost empty bottle. He's not sure when he started drinking again, but on nights like these, he doesn't give a shit.

No, he knows when he started drinking again. He remembers the exact moment the bottle reappeared in the fridge. That morning, he found you standing in the front yard, letting the freezing breeze and snow into the foyer.

"Sleepwalking," Ran had said at the time, excusing your behavior as a machination of your nightmares. He wasn't sure how long you'd been out there or how many times you'd done something like this. But it startled the shit out of him so bad he had to drink to ease his nerves.

Ran waits for some semblance of the dulling effect to take over. He needed to forget how you stood there, feet covered in snow, cheeks flushed bright red, and shivering. You'd been so cold and--

Ran's grip on the bottle falters. He watches in slow motion as the bottle crashes to the floor, resulting in shards of glass skittering about the wine-slicked tile. Ran feels his head loll, and he stares at the mess, wondering how he'd pick it up now. His feet are bare, too.

You come ambling toward the kitchen moments later, your eyes taking in the scene with alarm. But you don't say anything. Well, save a soft "ow".

"Shit," Ran bites out, finally reacting to the scene, spurred into action due to your injury.

And that's how things started, isn't it?

He knew Mikey was no good. He knew things had gone too far. He knew... he fucking knew and yet... He hadn't done shit about it until you'd gotten hurt.

"Piece of glass in your foot?" Ran wonders, still stuck to his stance in the middle of it. You nod. Ran picks his way around the mess, narrowly avoiding a shard himself, and scoops you into his arms. His senses are slowly dulling, but he had enough time to get you some help before he crashed.

The trip to the bedroom is short, and Ran sits you on the bed, whispering, "Don't move." You don't, and he pads toward the bathroom where the first aid kit awaits him. As he rifles through the box, memories come back to him of you doing the same thing: patching up his scrapes, putting ice packs on his bruises, disinfecting the scabs and gross knife cuts...

When had he ever done that for you?

Never.

He reappears with tweezers and a few large band aids, placing them on the floor before sitting down. He spots the offender almost instantly, though it's not large. Ran takes the tweezers and gently pulls the shard free without much difficulty. You whimper in pain, but it's momentary. Fingers work at patching your wound up with two band-aids and then Ran pats your leg with as much affection as he can muster.

"All better." The statement is punctuated with a gentle kiss against your ankle, and when he rises, he sees the fat tears that have rolled down your face. You wipe them away just as Ran feels the effects of the wine take hold. Things are a little hazy, but he has just enough strength to put you back in bed comfortably.

"I'm going to pay for this for the rest of my life, aren't I?" he whispers to no one, his mind rolling with scenarios as he stumbles into the recliner nearby.

The world is swimming but Ran grips the edges of the recliner before easing himself into it while gritting his teeth. All of his life he'd been the one to watch as someone else handled the messes, handled the delinquents, handled the repercussions of his own actions. Hell, until he raised his gun and fired six bullets into Mikey's chest, he hadn't handled shit for himself. Not really.

Bonten's undoing came as quickly as Ran had told Mikey to fuck himself, to which Mikey's haunted face replied, "You wife would know something about that, wouldn't she?"

The squeezing in Ran's chest started just as soon as he pulled the trigger, clickclickclickclick-ing until the gun itself was empty, and then some more for good measure. By the time Rindou had found him slumped against the desk beside a very dead Mikey, Ran had fired seven blanks and sixteen shots.

Money had changed hands, faces disappeared, people forgot who they were and where they lived and who Ran was, the news ran only one cycle talking about Mikey's death. The rest had been lost to time. And yet, here he is, sitting and stuck in that same spiral he'd allowed himself to get stuck in.

All for you.

Ran's eyes slide to his prize, your face turned towards him and eyes blinking in the dim light of the bedroom. "Hey," he whispers softly, trying for a gentle smile. "I'm alright. Get some sleep." You continue to stare at him and Ran knows instinctively that he's drunker than he ought to be.

"I'll get off the bottle soon," he murmurs, looking away in shame. "Promise."

You turn over to the other side and sigh but Ran can't bring himself to promise you anything else. He'd already brought so much pain into your life, and here he was, doing it again.

The image of you standing in front yard catches him off guard again. Maybe you were trying to get away from him. You'd walked so far--

Ran looks back over at you and feels the black hole in his chest yawn. It stings. The thought of you trying to escape from him burns like hell and he can't--

Ran stifles a gasp for air.

He can't bear the thought of you trying to leave. You had every right - you really did - to run away and find someone who would make you happy. He wouldn't blame you if you did want a divorce and wanted to leave his name. He killed for you, but that meant nothing in the face of your happiness.

It meant--

Ran's mind slips.

He'd count it all up to his payment for so many years of shit and terror and chaos. Surely--

The black hole opens a little wider and the world tilts.

You would be happy.

Ran grips the chair with both of his arms, hearing Mikey's voice in his ears.

"But you don't really love her, do you?"

I do, he wants to shout back at the ghost, challenging it.

The wine... it's the wine that's addling his mind. He's not normally like this - not so insecure, not so needy, but--

She'd be better off without you.

Ran jolts up and hurries out of the bedroom, running his hands through his hair and feeling the panic rush through his veins. There's only one way, one way to alleviate this.

This crushing guilt, the shame, the damn agony he feels at having to do all of this over and over and over again. Reliving his worst nightmare is like driving a stake through his skull, and he can't fucking take it anymore.

The front door swings wide and Ran bursts through it, his body propelling him to run. The urge rages through him, and his breath comes out in bursts of white air. If he had asthma like Rindou, he'd already be winded, but he's got tears freezing against his cheeks, the wind biting at his skin, and--

Ran comes to a stop at the end of the street.

What the hell is he doing?

He bends over, trying to catch his breath, and sees himself through his neighbor's eyes. Here is Ran Haitani, in boxer shorts and a t-shirt, running in the dead of winter with no shoes on. And he laughs.

Ran laughs and laughs and laughs.

He laughs so hard he has to sit down in the snow and hold his sides like a maniac.

Suddenly, he understands Sanzu. He understands the way he copes with things. He can't run; not now. Not when you're at home, needing protection. Ran ambles back up the driveway, still chuckling to himself out of disappointment more than humor.

He couldn't even outrun his own problems. A shame, he thinks, shutting the front door and latching it. What a shame I've turned out to be.

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

s2 episode 3 thoughts

here we go! this episode is titled "blood" which did not bode well for me, the girl who hates blood. but i am dedicated and pushed through in the name of our mission.

we open at a post office. sometimes, i think it would be fun to work in a post office.

but alas! our postman has received a paper cut. he licks it up which... can't be hygienic.

and then he immediately gets fired :( this is sooooo unfair

when he returns to his post his machine reads "KILL"!!! my first thought was that this was gonna be a little shop of horrors style thing where an inanimate object tastes blood and Likes it (Which is sort of what happened? but mostly not really)

((side note: need to see mulder and scully take on audrey two))

so it seems that the people are either being told by machines to do some killing or all the members of the town are experiencing collective hallucination...

mulder arrives. i was distracted by his fluffy hair. from the notes: "his hair is fluffy. he isn't saying much at this crime scene but his hair is fluffy"

! MULDER LORE REVEAL ! he played right field! (this was brought up when the policeman mentioned the suspect was on the softball team)

back to our post office friend, who is near a child with a random nosebleed whilst getting some money, and now the ATM is telling him to kill people

mulder points out that these are spree killings and not serial ones <-okay human embodiment of the nerd emoji.

it's a totally normal report on the crimes, no spooky stuff involved, and scully is reading it... until he mentions UFOs and she says to herself "i was wondering when you'd get to that" LMAOOOOO she knows him too well

we see a woman being lured into a dark garage by a mechanic and i thought i knew where this was going but i DIDN'T because SHE gets paranoid and the machine tells her the guy is gonna get her and she freaks out and STABS HIM

mulder arrives to the crime scene with a really funny looking camera. can anyone provide me more information about this camera? i'm curious

anyway, he shows up at the house of the woman who killed the mechanic, and we see another example of his bountiful social skills when he asks to come in and she says "i'm late for work" and he just barges in and says "you can blame me". i love this man so bad it's actually a problem. he WILL get inside of ur house.

but her microwave is telling her to kill him and she pulls out a knife and STABS him and i was yelling NOOOOOOOO! and then the cop he was with shoots her and VERY QUICKLY we get a cutscene to....

SCULLY AUTOPSY TIME!!!!!!

she thinks there's some sort of chemical that is making the people do this

we also see poor wet meow meow mulder's bandaged arm :(

back to the ex-postman, who is seeking new gainful employment at a supermarket in which there are guns for sale in the back, another reminder that this show is set in america. he starts to see evil things in the TV but resists (and it might be related to the blood drive at the store but? it's a little unclear tbh)

mulder running scene! getting his cardio in! the man is dripping in sweat! he sees a guy toss some stuff in a yard and it's... dead bugs?

so who does he take the bugs to? well, the weirdos who previously were consulted for another case: the conspirators at the lone gunman! famous for the one guy hitting on scully and ripping up her twenty dollar bill

so we're back to these freaks and he says he didn't see their latest issue because "it arrived the same day as my subscription to Celebrity Skin"

now, i had an educated guess here based on name alone, but needed to confirm what this "celebrity skin" truly was. a search brings you to an album by the band Hole, and i was like omg!!! we're gonna get an insight into his canon music taste!!!! there is nothing more i LOVE than learning a character's favorite artists <3

but, this cannot be... for the show takes place before 1998, when the album was released... so i dig further

chat, as expected, it is a porn mag. seems to have involved some unethical stuff. mulder: ur a sick man.

the even sicker man who previously hit on scully was like "where's your little friend?" and he counters with "she wouldn't come. she was too afraid of her love for you" and the weirdo responds with "she's tasty"

now i want you to buckle your seat belts for what mulder says next. buckled? secured? sat? everyone is in a safe position? okay. he says:

"you know, it's men like you that give perversion a bad name"

HELLO? hey. hi! quick question <3 what does that mean. mulder a freak confirmed????

(i mean i guess we DID already know he fucked phoebe on arthur conan doyle's grave, which is going to stick in my head forever, but. don't make it worse. sometimes he's such a Man)

anyway the weirdos at the lone gunman think it's related to pesticides. and then mulder asks to borrow their night vision goggles and the weirdest of weirdos is like "only if you give me scully's number!"

cutscene to him using the night goggles

(mulder, if you gave that creep her number, i will NEVER forgive you. so keep that in mind)

he's sitting in a field and it looks so natural, like he really belongs there. bring back sitting in fields. but then he breaks into the orchard and gets sprayed by some pesticides and thoroughly knocked on his ass

mulder's yelling at some guy to take responsibility for the pesticides that he thinks are killing people... a moral crusader serving on the front lines...

scully's here now, btw. she took his blood. which had to be a strange experience. and then she mentions that she FLEW 300 MILES in the MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT to come take his blood?

holy shit, mulder. she did that for you and you've been so broody and angsty lately and maybe even gave some dick her phone number. holy shit mulder, do not blow this. you cannot afford to blow this. she is soooo good to you.

anyway, he's seeing the same evil messages in technology the killers were now so that's a bummer

mulder proposes that this is some sort of subliminal messaging thing that is being activated by the fear-inducing pesticides and the cop gets pissed and leaves, to which he says "he's probably one of those people that thinks Elvis is dead"

so that's the SECOND line in this show about him being an elvis truther and i'm starting to think it's not a joke

back to the ex-postman. people are coming to his door to take blood and test for the chemicals in the pesticides and he's going bonkers. he's seeing "KILL" in his calculator, which is how you know things are rough. his watch even beeps and says "KILL" which i think would make a very very very very funny gif if anyone has that.

well, all of a sudden he's missing so the agents go to his house and knock. until.

scully realizes the door is open and just. lets herself in. i was laughing SO hard here. these bitches WILL get into your house. they will NOT wait for an invitation. truly a sign of soulmatism.

ex-postman was running running and they're like omg where is heeeeee he's gonna hurt people!!! scully is once again proving her genius status by saying that if it's a paranoia case, then all these guys in police uniforms need to get out of view.

(there's also this shot where mulder is like. smoldering. and she's behind him and man. height difference content i really really do love you and your work <3)

our crazed ex-postman climbs a tower at a college and is gonna start shooting but he's also hallucinating and laughing maniacally which i described in my notes as "entering his joker era"

mulder runs up and prevents a shootout using some handy jujitsu. neeeeed to see if this man is a black belt. for character driven purposes.

but he says that he knows the guy can't stop and overall it's an eerie situation because you can tell the pesticides are still in his brain as well. and his arm is bleeding again and this makes the other guy go into overdrive.

um. okay.

crisis averted...?

well, you sure would like to think that, wouldn't you? but the episode ends with mulder calling scully, and then HE sees more evil stuff in his phone! and it fades to blackness as her voice is heard through the speaker...

(i love that she knew it was him immediately. despite the silence. and that her train of thought went from "it's scully" to "mulder is it you?" to "mulder, what's wrong?" talk about a connection!)

hope he doesn't do anything too impulsive...

in conclusion: my very surface level interpretation of this episode was that it was warning us to not be controlled by technology, which i'm sure felt more relevant back in the day. but now that i have to click "don't sell my data" when i browse flavors of soup for sale online, i think we might just no longer be the target audience. or maybe it's even more relevant! an argument could be made both ways.

down with pesticides, though! i can get behind that! when's the last time you saw a bee? bring them back!

[freddiemercurylegendabovelegends]

Today - May 13th, 1977 - Queen Story!

Queen played Congresscentrum, Hamburg, Germany

'A Day At The Races' Tour

🔸Record Mirror, May 21, 1977

A NIGHT at the Congress Centrum Hamburg, where escalators take you to the concert hall and the bouncers wear suits and ties.

It's been three years since Queen played Hamburg, but it's a near sell-out in a hall which looks like a giant lecture theatre with rows and rows of cushioned, spotless white seats. The stage is tiny but somehow the roadies have managed to squeeze on the batteries of lights.

It's a late start. Backstage, a giant roadie paces up and One week down like an expectant father outside the dressing room. Classical music floats gently over the audience.

Then darkness, lights, action and The Queen Machine rolls into action. Lights explode through the gloom and Mercury stands like Rudolph Nureyev.

He's dressed in a white jumpsuit and May, in wandering minstrel gear, blasts out the opening chords to 'Tie Your Mother Down'. For a guy who shows comparatively little emotion when he plays, the effect is still stunning. The number finishes with a drum solo and tarticle

g bass rising to the top of the sound mix. The Congress Centrum has great acoustics. You could have been sitting in a recording studio.

Most of the audience are caught like a fish on the end of a hook. It's the old Queen policy of 'grab 'em by the scruff of the neck and don't let go for a second'. The lights dim again, there are same tailed some taped sounds and spotlights shine out from the stage. May's knife - like guitar announces 'Ogre Battle'.

Explonding

Mercury makes an-other grand entrance in a chequered cut suit, pointing his mike stand at the audience like a gun. At the end he's lost in a mass of exploding smoke bombs. • The band's speeches are embarrassing. They always sound so self-conscious. "Thank you every-body and welcome to the party," says Freddie —like an embarrassed scoutmaster addressing his troop. It's 'White Queen' and the dynamic duo of Mercury and May are caught under criss-cross spotlights. Mercury tosses his head back as if he's in agony and sings the mystical lyrics before leaping around like a bizarre ballet dancer. Spotlights play on a crystal ball and May stands in the corner, framed in the half light like a Renaissance portrait. He takes to the catwalk at the front of the stage for a riveting solo. Considering the rapid-fire notes he's turning out, he always looks so relaxed. Mercury returns to the stage and the number taste-fully ends as he hits a high note and a solitary spotlight plays on his head and shoulders. "It's really nice to be here in Hamburg," he announces before 'Somebody To Love'. His playing misses the light opening touches of the record. The band try to make the tune more funky — maybe trying to keep the live excitement going, but it sounds cheap.

Half the German crowd are start their British Jubilee tour, ROBIN SMITH went to Germany and found that the Hamburgers were well pleased. Yes, they played a . . .

Good Old Fashioned . . singing along but the remainder keep their seats, showing no emotion. Eventually Taylor's drumming gets the crowd going. The reserve is breaking . . . May walks across to the microphone and clicks his fingers. Mercury's piano chords announce 'Killer Queen'. This time the playing is more laid back, capturing the true sensuous feel of perhaps the most subtle and skilful song Queen have ever produced. Mercury even managed to work in a line about Hamburg.

RAGTIME

The numbers followed by the gloriously ragtime 'Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy' and Mercury's voice is showing no signs of strain. In times gone by, especially at one concert at the Rainbow, he seemed to have been lisping and struggling, but no complaints this time.

The party atmosphere is continued with 'Bring Back That Leroy Brown'. May strumming away on banjo.

It's back to Queen at their most sinister with 'Death On Two Legs', Freddie spitting out the lyrics backed by cold guitar, rumbling drums and bass.

He sounds like Christopher Lee.

"Queen would like to drink a special toast to all of you here," says F'reddie. He sips champagne delicately but - tut, tut - it's not a proper champagne glass - the real thing is tulip shaped. He passes the booze down to the audience.

FRENZIED

Time for 'Brighton Rock' - frenzied riffs stab out and May indulges in some feedback before strutting around che stage. He indulges in a deluge of rising and falling notes and then the nagging riff start, again, bouncing off your eardrums.

Source article ➡️ queenconcerts.com

[ghuleh-recs]

hiii after gobbling down almost all i could find i came to ask if you know any multi chap ghoul ficss!!! can be angst or fluff or anything really, but i'd just prefer ghouls not papas rn. any recs? thank you love <3

hellooo, sweet anon!! i perused my ao3 history and here are a handful of multi-chap or series featuring ghouls that really buttered my croissant. i hope you find something new to enjoy amongst the recs!!

recs under the cut!

Ghoul x Ghoul

love is all you need (series) - @gayrickgrimes - 47k, E - Dew x Rain x Swiss

"a series where i explore swiss, rain, and dewdrop’s developing relationship. featuring polyghouls. they’re all dating, i just want to focus on these three."

The Longest Hours - @midnight-moth - 17k, E - Dew x Rain

“I wrote this on the plane today on the way back from my work trip. It features a lovely combination of how I feel about all of the flying I’ve had to do lately and my love of Rain and Dew being the softest softs that ever softed. And Rain being aroused by Dew’s tears but I mean. Is that a secret? Do they not cry in everything I write? Sorry…” *if you're in it for the long haul, they also have a behemoth of a masterpiece called "Kilonova" that you can read here.

It's No Fun 'Til Someone Dies (Murder Ghouls) series - @iamthecomet - 10k, E - Polyghouls

Summary of Part 1: Dew doesn’t understand how they haven’t figured it out yet. Humanity's persistence, its blindness will be its downfall. He’s in awe of the way they continue to insist to themselves that it’s normal for multiple people a month to just—vanish. To “go home” without taking any of their stuff. To flee in the middle of the night. Or fall from balconies, or down the stairs, or drown. That they haven’t figured out that the unlucky few are fodder for the machine that is the Ghost Project. Food, literally, for the hell-spawn that drives it forward. They spend their days looking at the Ghouls like they are something to be attained. A prize to win. Dew is happy to encourage it. To let them walk right into the trap. He runs his teeth over his fangs. He can still taste the blood. *a little something to get you in the mood for spooky season.

Ghoul x Reader

Slow Burn (series) - @high-imperatrix - 116k, E - Polyghouls x Reader (Dew x Reader main pairing)

A series of porn-with-plot stories featuring a female Reader character—a human hired to come in and manage the band Ghost—and her relationship with the fire ghoul Dewdrop. It starts off as an enemies-to-lover flirtation and involves into something much more serious—with Reader character getting to know the other citizens of the abbey along the way. Features tons of smut, group sex, threesomes, BDSM, dalliances with the Papas, and more!

Ghoul Bicycle (series) - @gravehags - 22k, E - Polyghouls x Reader

It's not your fault you're a virgin, but it's certainly causing problems for Swiss.

Hold Me Like A Knife - @highdefinitions - 19k, E - Swiss x OC (can also be read as reader insert)

Swiss reunites with a ghost from his past.

𖤐 you know the drill--bookmark, read, leave kudos and/or comments!

[welcogm]

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[maleficentmrsofallevil]

ADHSquirrel project time

In true disorganized jumping-bean-brain fashion, I've got multiple projects going at once. I prefer this, actually - I like to cycle through things when brain screams "No more focus on this!"

In no apparent order:

Dollhouse nostalgia: this is a cheap, bad kit from the 90s alternately known as the Greenleaf Allison or the Whitney Cambridge dollhouse. It's made of balsa wood, and the wood warps if you look at it sideways.

I put one together when I was (much, much) younger, and then we threw it away when it started to fall apart. Now I want it back - but this time, I want to put it together so it's a lot more stable.

Plans: reinforce exterior load-bearing walls by creating faux clapboard siding and quoins (the corner pieces) like this:

I found craft wood sheets that are 1/8-inch (3 mm) thick, and I'll be cutting them in 1/2 to 1-inch strips and gluing them to the exterior walls. Then paint and seal. I also like the raised decorations on the window sills and shutters. Hopefully, I have enough craft sheets to do that, too. I got the kind of sheets that are thin enough to cut with a craft knife, and I've got rulers for days. Dreading the sanding, though. So much sanding. Also, I've been researching putting together dollhouses, and I learned that it's better to dry fit the whole thing, secure in place with masking tape, and then glue stuff together. This is - very smart.

Sewing: continues apace. Pattern pieces are cut out for this Requiem Art Design Renaissance gown.

I'll be doing the long, fitted sleeves. The pattern is made for knit fabric, but I'm using a woven fabric (silk dupioni I've been told, but I am not entirely certain what that is), so I incorporated the seam/hem allowances into the edges. I'm not linking to this pattern again, because it has... issues. Let's call them issues. (I'll be sending a write-up of my feedback to the designer once I've finished.)

I've cut out the pattern pieces. Now I'm tracing them onto cereal box cardboard to make pattern "blocks" - then I'll trace them onto yet more paper after I add 1/4-inch seam/hem allowances. I'm also planning to use washable markers to trace the actual patterns onto the fabric. I want to see if the marker actually washes out.

Next up: cutting cheap fabric for a toile/muslin, aka a practice run. Sewing machine has been cleaned and is in good operating condition.

Dress fabric:

I'm using the one on the right for the dress, and the one in the middle (a gorgeous copper in person) for the arm bands and sleeve linings. It's going to be for my Feeple60 girls.

Poor Ria.

Face-ups/blushing: every time I'm in the mood to go downstairs and work on face-ups and blushing, my ankle decides to be a little diva and inform me that under no circumstances will I be able to take the stairs today. This is exceptionally frustrating, but such are the joys of aging, I suppose.

Craftorama room: even more stuff has been cleared out of the master bedroom in preparation for upcoming staycation, when we'll move into the MBR and create Craftorama room. My office has been totally taken over by dolls, and I love it. I walk into the office to work, and all my lovely girls are here to keep me company. Cleaning books off bookshelves and filling a box to donate to the local library/thrift store, so I'll have shelf space for my dolls. Cuz priorities.

I am so excited for Craftorama room; I will not shut up about it. No more ankle-diva-no-stairs. I can close the door and work - no worries about cats trying to play with (and possibly get injured by) sewing notions. And I can finally, FINALLY, restring in peace.

[darkbluekies]

17:38

Mafia!female!yandere OC x reader

Warnings: knives, blood

Jerry sits by the kitchen island with her phone in her hand. You've asked to cook and usually, she doesn't let you, but today she's feeling bold. What could go wrong when she's supervising?

"What are you making?" she asks without looking up from her phone.

"Kimchi."

Jerry puts down her phone and smiles. She crosses her arms over her chest and leans over the table.

"No way, my mom used to make that for me when I was a kid", she smiles sadly.

"I thought that I wanted to try to make it for you", you say.

"You're so sweet, baby. Go wild. Let's see how good of a housewife you are." She tilts her head. "You'd be a pretty cute housewife, wouldn't you?"

"Why are you asking me that? Shouldn't you know?"

Jerry grins slightly. "I think you'd be a very cute housewife."

You pick up the cabbage and wash it thoroughly. Jerry let you come with her to the store to buy it, surprisingly enough. She was very stiff, always glancing around to make sure no one was looking at you weirdly.

You pick up a knife and position it over the cabbage. There's no way you can ferment the entire thing in one piece.

"So that's why you wanted to buy so many spices", Jerry thinks out loud.

"It wasn't too expensive, right?" you ask over your shoulder. "We bought quite a lot."

"Nah, and even if it was, I can get money easily. Don't worry. You should have gotten yourself that ice machine you saw."

"It was too expensive."

"But you'd have ice right now, wouldn't you?"

Jerry raises her eyebrows teasingly. You shake your head disapproving and turn back to your cutting. The wet cabbage becomes an ice rink and the knife slips, cutting your ring finger just over the final rinkle. You gasp in pain.

"What?" Jerry asks quickly, all hints of amusement gone. "Did you cut yourself?"

"Yes", you hiss, holding your hurt hand in your free one. "I'm bleeding."

Jerry shoots up from her chair quick enough for it to tumble back, down on the floor. She hurries over to you and inspects the hurt area.

"Shit, baby, you have to be careful!" she exclaims and pulls your hand over to the sink.

The cold water rinses the wound, causing you to hiss again. Jerry's heart is thumping in her chest. How could she ever think that this was a good idea?

"Stand still", she tells you. "I'll go get a bandaid for you."

She runs into the bathroom and comes back a minute later with a beige band aid in her hands. She removes the plastic layer and wraps it gently around your ring finger. Carefully, she lifts your fingers to her plump lips and kisses it softly.

You look at the cabbage.

"Don't think about it", Jerry tells you. "You're not going to continue. This was a stupid idea. Why did I ever think it was okay for you to use a knife? I trust you too much. Fuck sake. You hurt yourself. Get out of the kitchen."

"It's just a little cut …", you say. "I wanted to make something special for you. I had it all planned …"

She cups your cheeks between her hands.

"I know, baby", she says comfortingly. "And I'm very grateful that you wanted to do something for me, but what kind of girlfriend am I if I let you get hurt, hm? My number one priority is to protect you."

"I know, but …"

"I'll continue this. Go sit down in the living room. People like you shouldn't be allowed into kitchens."

You sigh and leave for the living room. The very second you round the corner, Jerry bites down on her hand, grunting. She feels so bad.

Nonetheless, she finishes what you've started. She looks at the prepared kimchi with a sigh. You're too good for her. You wanted to make one of her childhood side dishes … for what? To make her happy? Why do you care about her happiness after what she's done to you? Jerry shuts her eyes to stop whatever tears want to escape.

"Stop it", she hisses for herself, pressing her palms to her eyes. "Stop fucking crying, you piece of shit."

She gathers herself and cleans up. You look up when she enters the living room.

"I don't want you in the kitchen again", she says monotonously. "Do you get that?"

"It was just an accident, Jerry", you sigh. "The knife slipped. The cabbage was wet and slippery. There will be accidents while cooking … you know that."

She shakes her head firmly. "Not in my house. You're not allowed anywhere near anything sharp. You're too clumsy."

You're about to talk back, but keep your mouth shut, knowing better than to argue with her when she's angry.

[athousandgateaux]

I spend a lot of time seeking out and listening to queer music and artists, so I thought I'd share a list of some of my favourite artists* in case anyone's interested and doesn't know where to start.

*disclaimer: these are just some of the artists I like, not an exhaustive list of queer musicians. If you want to add suggestions, that would be awesome. I tried to group artists by genre, but many of them cross genres or are difficult to classify in that way.

Anyway, list is under the cut!

punk/metal/hardcore/post-punk

-Dog Park Dissidents

-She/Her/Hers

-Priests

-DITZ

-Crack Cloud

-Limp Wrist

-Queen Zee

-Danny Denial

-G.L.O.S.S.

-Slouch

-Tribe8

-Fit For Rivals

-Nervus

-Tacocat

-The Total Bettys

-Dyke Drama

-Pansy Division

-Art Project

-Trash Boat

-Against Me!

-Sloppy Jane

-Queen Zee

-The Degenerettes

-Size of Sadness

-Seth Bogart

-The Spook School

-Dream Nails

-Gina Young

-Mhaol

-Artio

-Arcadia Grey

-thotcrime

-VIAL

pop/hyperpop

-Rina Sawayama

-Kim Petras

-girli

-Regina Gently

-MUNA

-Janelle Monae

-George Michael

-Divine

-Noah Davis

-Sir Babygirl

-Myylo

-The Communards

-I Blame Coco

-MNEK

-Haley Kiyoko

-Boy Jr.

-Sofya Wang

-Allie X

-COBRAH

-Tayla Parx

-SOPHIE

-Hikaru Utada

-Alice Longyu Gao

indie rock / alt-pop / art pop

-Perfume Genius

-Model Child

-Shamir

-Lynks

-ZEE MACHINE

-Cry Club

-The Magnetic Fields

-Patrick Wolf

-Owen Pallett

-Black Belt Eagle Scout

-Moses Sumney

-Yves Tumor

-Anna Calvi

-Ah-Mer-Ah-Su

-Xiu Xiu

-Black Dresses

-NoSo

-Rostam

-Left at London

-Sneakyseabear

-Rosie Tucker

-MEN (JD Samson)

-Le Tigre

-Lord Troy

-Hunx & His Punx

-Arthur Russel

-Cris Derksen

-Ezra Furman

-Rhumba Club

-Arca

-Dizzy Fae

-The Spook School

-Jeremy Dutcher

-corook

-Saucy Santana

-Lilac Boy

-Knife Girl

-Mega Mango

-serpentwithfeet

-Bree Runway

-The Irrepressibles

-Becca Mancari

-MAN ON MAN

-Jayne County

-Gentleman Reg

-Tom Robinson Band

rap/hip-hop

-Chris Conde

-Kalifa (Le1f)

-Quay Dash

-Young M.A.

-Backxwash

-Mykki Blanco

-Ocean Kelly

-Cakes da Killa

-Ddm

-Big Dipper

-Cartel Madras

-Angel Haze

-Deep Dickollective

-Saucy Santana

-Big Daddy Karsten

-Ayesha Erotica

-CHIKA

-Tayla Parx

-Doechii

-DAMAG3

-Fly Young Red

r&b/soul/funk/disco

-Remi Wolf

-Arlo Parks

-Syd

-Shea Diamond

-Meshell Ndegeocello

-Dua Selah

-Jackie Shane

-Sylvester

-Bronski Beat

-SuperKnova

-be steadwell

-Orion Sun

-Labi Siffre

country/folk/blues

-Sufjan Stevens

-Mary Gauthier

-Trixie Mattel

-Lavender Country

-Lord Troy

-Beth Elliot

-Paisley Fields

-Onsind

-Holly Miranda

-Rae Spoon

-Grace Petrie

-Orville Peck

-Villagers

-Lucille Bogan

-Ma Rainey

-Kokomo Arnold

-Peg Leg Howell

house/electronica

-Quanah Style

-Divoli S'vere

-Boy Pussy

-Fritz Helder

-Mx Blouse

-Chippy Nonstop

-Gendered Destruktion

-dj genderfluid

-Electric Fields

-Urias

-vivivivivi

[taylorswiftandx]

Taylor Swift and Electronic Devices

Note: huge thank you to @meandmypagancrew who assembled the lyrics for this post! I have included here just nouns denoting electronic devices themselves, but you may also be interested in actions/media requiring these types of devices found on TS and Calling, Watching, Pictures, Films/Movies, Planes, Cars, the Internet, Tweeting, and Electricity.

'Taylor Swift'

Tim McGraw: The moon like a spotlight on the lake

Teardrops On My Guitar: As I turn out the light I’ll put his picture down and maybe get some sleep tonight

A Place In This World: Got the radio on, my old blue jeans

Stay Beautiful: He smiles, it’s like the radio

Our Song: I look around, turn the radio down

Our Song: When we’re on the phone and you talk real slow cause it’s late and your mama don’t know

Our Song: I’ve heard every album, listened to the radio

Our Song: When we’re on the phone and he talks real slow, 'cause it’s late and his mama don’t know

'Fearless (Taylor's Version)'

Hey, Stephen: They’re dimming the street lights

You Belong With Me: You’re on the phone with your girlfriend, she’s upset

Forever & Always: And I stare at the phone, he still hasn’t called

Jump Then Fall: We’re on the phone and without a warning, I realize your laugh is the best sound I have ever heard

SuperStar: So dim that spotlight, tell me things like I can’t take my eyes off of you

SuperStar: You sing me to sleep every night from the radio

The Other Side Of The Door: Going through the photographs, staring at the phone

That’s When: Then through the phone came all your tears

'Speak Now (Taylor’s Version)'

Mine: Do you remember all the city lights on the water?

Dear John: Wondering which version of you I might get on the phone tonight

Never Grow Up: I tuck you in, turn on your favorite night light

Never Grow Up: I tuck myself in and turn my night light on

Innocent: Your string of lights is still bright to me, oh

Ours: Elevator buttons and morning air

Electric Touch: Got a feeling your electric touch could fill this ghost town up with life

Electric Touch: In the heat of your electric touch

Electric Touch: I’ve gotten used to no one calling my phone

'Red (Taylor's Version)'

State of Grace: I’m walking fast through the traffic lights

Treacherous: Two headlights shine through the sleepless night

All Too Well: We’re dancing around the kitchen in the refrigerator light

Stay Stay Stay: I threw my phone across the room at you

Holy Ground: Took off faster than a green light, go

The Lucky Ones: And the camera flashes make it look like a dream

The Lucky Ones: Another name goes up in lights

The Lucky Ones: ‘Cause now my name is up in lights

Begin Again: Turn the lock and put my headphones on

The Moment I Knew: Christmas lights glisten, I’ve got my eye on the door

Girl At Home: I see you turn off your phone

Girl At Home: I wanna see you pick up your phone and tell her you’re coming home

'1989 (Taylor’s Version)'

Welcome To New York: The lights are so bright but they never blind me

Wonderland: Flashing lights and we took a wrong turn

New Romantics: We’re all here, the lights and noise are blinding

Is It Over Now?: Did you think I didn't see you, there were flashing lights

'reputation'

Delicate: Phone lights up my nightstand in the black

Getaway Car: There were sirens in the beat of your heart

Dancing With Our Hands Tied: I’d kiss you as the lights went out

'Lover'

Cruel Summer: Hang your head low in the glow of the vending machine

Cruel Summer: So cut the headlights, summer’s a knife

Lover: We could leave the Christmas lights up ‘til January

Miss Americana And The Heartbreak Prince: Waving homecoming queen, marching band playing, I’m lost in the lights

Miss Americana And The Heartbreak Prince: Running through rose thorns, I saw the scoreboard and ran for my life

Miss Americana And The Heartbreak Prince: No cameras catch my pageant smile

Miss Americana And The Heartbreak Prince: No cameras catch my muffled cries

Cornelia Street: As if the streetlights pointed in an arrowhead leading us home

Death By A Thousand Cuts: Chandelier’s still flickering here 'cause I can’t pretend it’s okay when it’s not

Death By A Thousand Cuts: I ask the traffic lights if it’ll be all right, they say, “I don’t know”

Soon You’ll Get Better: In doctor’s office lighting, I didn’t tell you I was scared

ME!: I know that I went psycho on the phone

It’s Nice To Have A Friend: Video games, you pass me a note

'folklore'

Cardigan: Vintage tee, brand new phone

Cardigan: Dancing in your Levi’s, drunk under a streetlight

Cardigan: I knew you’d miss me once the thrill expired and you’d be standing in my front porch light

This Is Me Trying: You're a flashback in a film reel on the one screen in my town

Betty: Stopped at a streetlight, you know I miss you

The Lakes: These hunters with cell phones

'evermore'

Dorothea: A tiny screen’s the only place I see you now

Cowboy Like You: Now I’m waiting by the phone

Evermore: Motion capture put me in a bad light

Evermore: I rewind the tape but all it does is pause on the very moment all was lost

'Midnights'

Maroon: The rust that grew between telephones

Snow On The Beach: This scene feels like what I once saw on a screen

You’re On Your Own, Kid: I touch my phone as if it’s your face

Midnight Rain: And he never thinks of me except for when I’m on TV

Paris: Let the only flashing lights be the tower at midnight in my mind

Other Songs written by Taylor

All Of The Girls You Loved Before: When you think of all the late nights, lame fights over the phone

Christmas Tree Farm: In my heart is a Christmas tree farm where the people would come to dance under sparkling lights

Christmases When You Were Mine: When you were putting up the lights this year did you notice one less pair of hands?

Only The Young: You brace for the sound you’ve only heard on TV

Official Alternate Releases

(no electronics)

[tma-entity-song-poll]

Battle of the Fear Bands B3R1: The Flesh

The Dismemberment Song:

“It has everything, the casual treatment of people’s bodies as objects for a goal, trying to almost sound sweet while chopping someone to bits, the fact that what will be left is unrecognizable, the turning the knife on someone else as opposed to yourself. It’s just very flesh.”

Meat:

“Oh god this one is awful. A perfectly graphical description of a flesh domain. I don't think I'm gonna have a burger for a few days that's for sure.”

Mod note: they're not kidding this one is graphic. If you struggle with flesh stuff, especially in regards to episodes like the meat packing plant etc, I reccomend giving this one a skip.

Lyrics below the line!

The Dismemberment Song:

Hold still, my sweet I'm trying to measure the space between Your molar and your jaw This caliper No cause for fear, no, it, it doesn't hurt It only helps me measure How much skin you have Oh, and the topmost layer of fat But I won't make an incision 'Til you're nice and numb Oh, and laughing gas can be so much fun Please don't doubt my decision This'll be, ooh, this'll be, aah This'll be absolutely, whee This'll be nice, this'll be neat And bring you closer to me So, don't you squirm, don't you fret I'm not gonna hurt you yet I just feel the need to be getting A little of you, a lot of blood-letting I know the sensation you're probably dreading But cutting you up will be so refreshing for me Refreshing for me, yeah No, don't you cry And don't call Miriam, she's my alibi Oh, let me check your toes out Aren't your toenails cute? And red is such a lovely color on you But you won't be needing those When you've got no knees Or shins, or pinky fingers, or arteries So, hold still while I remove them Oh, and don't fight back I think you'll find you're missing the point with that That's enough out of you And this'll be, ooh, this'll be, aah This'll be absolutely, whee This'll be nice, this'll be neat And bring you closer to me So, don't you squirm, don't you fret I'm not gonna hurt you yet I just feel the need to be getting A little of you, a lot of blood-letting I know the sensation you're probably dreading But cutting you up will be so refreshing for me, yeah Refreshing for me, yeah Well, once upon a time, that's where the plot begins And right after the end, well, that's where the plot thins, and I've got no angel to keep me in line So, I'm taking your narrative, and I'm making it mine 'Cause I'm all out of hurt, you've used up all I've got So, I'm chopping you up and still coming up squat If I wanted to bleed, I'd just roll up my sleeve And saw, and saw, and saw And saw, and saw, and saw And saw, and saw, and saw Oh, yeah This'll be, ooh, this'll be, aah This'll be absolutely, whee This'll be nice, this'll be neat And bring you closer to me So, don't you squirm, don't you fret I'm not gonna hurt you No, no, no, not yet I just feel the need to be getting A little of you, a lot of blood-letting I know the sensation you're probably dreading But there's one thing you're forgetting There's nothing like the thrill of a shredding And this is no orthodox beheading And cutting you up Cutting you up Cutting you up is gonna be so refreshing for me Refreshing for me, yeah Refreshing for me Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh

Meat:

Parasitic intergalactic savages Will land here in 2033 Heaven destroyed your planets before The star force came to feed I saw my brother devoured A river of blood when it tore off his head Of healthy organites, a system for harvesting human flesh Plug me into the feeding machine Ten in a pen pressed against me Cut out my tongue so that I can't scream There's meat, there's meat on me Antibiotics keep me alive Now that everyone I love has died Hang me up and strip me clean There's meat, there's meat on me You've heard stories about the free ones The few who escape the alien's grip Living underground in star cities In the deep and dark they resist But I don't know if I believe it When they caught me there weren't many left They only force us to breed in here I just hope they kill me quick Plug me into the feeding machine Ten in a pen pressed against me Cut out my tongue so that I can't scream There's meat, there's meat on me Antibiotics keep me alive Now that everyone I love has died Hang me up and strip me clean There's meat, there's meat on me In light of the sick to maximize efficiency Approach the back into our feed for optimal delivery Right here in the slaughterhouse screams Around the killing floor And I hope to chase my adrenaline Soak up my pus-filled sores Plug me into the feeding machine Ten in a pen pressed against me Cut out my tongue so that I can't scream There's meat, there's meat on me Wrap me up in cellophane Labeled "organic", label me grade A My tendon is cut between your teeth There's meat, there's meat on me There's meat, there's meat on me There's meat, there's meat on me There's meat, there's meat on me There's meat, there's meat on me

[therealblondebucky]

Chapter 1 of Not The Only One - A Winter Soldier Story

Rating: Teen to Mature

Word Count: 2.1 K

Warnings: Canon-typical violence (with more specifics in the tags)

December 16, 1991 20:05 [8:05pm]

With the small heaters now turned off, a bitter chill crept into my uncle's workshop, and the cold urged me on. Shivering, I returned the broom to its corner and mentally counted the minutes until I could go home and get—  

Baam! The storage room's outside door flew open and a man with a shiny metal arm rushed in. His sweat-drenched hair clung to the dark stubble dusted across his sharp cheekbones. Every piece of his clothing was black and bore a weapon of some type. A living omen of death stood before me. 

"Can I help you?" I asked, making my voice gruff, hoping to mask how much this stranger scared me. 

The man said nothing as he began walking towards me. His countenance was cold and merciless. His piercing blue eyes were feral and devoid of any humanity. It was almost like he had been hollowed out and a machine was placed inside him. 

As panic set in, only one thought was clear in my mind: I am here alone and my knife is on a table across the shop.

Terrified, I bolted out of the storage room and into the workshop.

"All that matters is getting my hands on that knife." 

I had a decent head start, but the dark man was closing the distance between us incredibly fast. My knees slammed into the cold concrete floor. I cried out in pain before I even realized what had happened. My heavy work boots had caught on an electric cord. The owner of the cord, a massive band saw, tipped over and fell on top of me. My right arm was pinned between the saw blade and the frame of an adjacent saw. 

My left hand grabbed pitifully at the sharp blade, trying to free my trapped right arm. The effort was only rewarded with several bloody cuts. I attempted to hoist the heavy machine off of myself but only managed to raise it a little.

The saw came crashing back down onto me, and the power switch toggled on. Roaring to life, the saw's sharp teeth tore through my flesh as I screamed for help and watched as the strange man pulled me out before I lost consciousness...

~~~

The stranger

The chase. 

The accident. 

I could see it all as if it were a bad dream. If I woke up, I would escape this nightmare. 

Forcing my eyes open revealed that reality had dealt me a stinging blow. My arm was nearly mutilated beyond recognition. It bent into sickeningly unnatural angles, and the raw, butchered flesh bled profusely. 

Seeing the space between my shoulder and the limb made me realize that my arm was not connected to me; rather, what was left of it was lying next to me. A cry of terror involuntarily escaped my lips before the dark man stabbed me with a hypodermic, and unconsciousness claimed me again.

~~~

"Я хотел ее целиком. Это затруднит мою работу." ["I wanted her in one piece. This will make my work more difficult."]

"Я думаю, с ней все будет хорошо. Жизненно важные признаки сильны, и она всего лишь эксперимент," someone else replied. ["I think she will be fine. Vital signs are strong, and she is just an experiment."]

I could hear the voices clearly, but their words did not make sense. Briefly opening my eyes showed a man in a military uniform with a crimson beret and another man dressed in medical scrubs standing over me.

A gloved hand touched my left arm, and the man in scrubs stuck an IV needle into me below the crease of my elbow. My eyes followed the tubing up to an IV bag holding a bright blue mixture, which was now dripping into my veins.

At first, my arm felt prickly, and then my torso was stinging. The sensation found my legs and worked its way down. The uncomfortable, burning feeling grew into an unbearable, searing pain. Every second that passed compounded the agony. My whole body writhed in pain, and I cried out. The suffering only increased, and my screams no longer sounded human. Convulsing violently, I begged for anyone or anything to end my torment.

~~~

A soft, steady beeping pulled me from my drugged haze. I kept my eyes closed, remembering the horrible image of my arm. Even though I was afraid to know the truth, I attempted to move my arm. It took significant effort, but my fingers moved stiffly, and my muscles could tense and relax. My arm seemed to be alright other than hurting like hell. Opening my eyes revealed I could not have been more wrong. 

My arm was gone. What was attached to me now was cold, hard metal, not soft, warm flesh. 

I lost my arm. My right arm. 

A tear slid down my cheek. I tried to wipe it away with my left hand but could not. I was strapped to the bed like some wild animal or a violent criminal.

Sadness, confusion, and anger became a toxic mixture and flooded every part of my mind. The metal arm tore free from its restraint and quickly ripped off the other straps. 

My whole body felt...different. Taller, maybe? Upon examining my physique, I noticed I was wearing an unfamiliar black sports bra and cloth drawstring shorts of the same color. My jeans and long-sleeved shirt were nowhere to be seen. 

"она не спит!" someone called out. ["She’s awake!"]

A man in green scrubs came over to me. I leaped off the bed and grabbed him by the throat with my metal arm. 

"What did you do to me?" I screamed, shoving him against the wall. 

His only response was something between a choke and a gasp.

"Что ты со мной сделал?" I repeated, but this time in Russian. ["What did you do to me?"]

My grip was now nearing lethal strength. A voice called out for me to release him, or I would be shot. Closing the metal hand fully produced a sickening crunch from his neck, and I watched his lifeless body drop to the ground before a painful and paralyzing shock knocked me out.

~~~

The man in the beret stood in front of me. "Поздравляю, солдат. Вы первая женщина, получившая сыворотку."  ["Congratulations, soldier. You are the first female to successfully receive the serum."]

My voice was breathy and hoarse. "Кто вы, черт возьми, люди?" ["Who the hell are you people?"]

"Я полковник Василий Карпов, ваш создатель и командир," he informed me proudly. ["I am Colonel Vasily Karpov, your creator and commander."]

A million questions screamed in my mind. "Где я?" ["Where am I?"]

"Твой новый дом, солдат, Сибирь." ["Your new home, soldier. Siberia."]

Before I could fully process this information, he called out, "Вытри ее!" ["Wipe her!"]

Machinery whirred, and two metal pieces made contact with my head.  A painful electrical zapping forced horrible screams from my throat.

~~~

I was held in some strange type of metal chair. My head throbbed painfully. Men with guns surrounded the railed area around me. 

A man in a military uniform with a crimson beret stood in front of me. A dark red book held the words he read aloud to me. "Создание. Убегая. Принуждение. Мать. Огонь. Вечер. Второй. Разрушен. Рейс. Лезвие." ["Creation. Fleeing. Duress. Mother. Fire. Evening. Second. Shattered. Flight. Blade."]

"Что вы от меня хотите?" I screamed angrily. ["What do you want from me?"]

The man in the beret called out "Еще раз!" ["Again!"]

Machinery whirred, and two metal pieces made contact with my head. A painful electrical zapping forced horrible screams from my throat.

~~~

I was held in some strange type of metal chair. My head throbbed painfully, and I nearly vomited. Men with guns surrounded the railed area around me. A man in a military uniform with a crimson beret stood in front of me. 

A dark red book held the words he read aloud to me. "Создание. Убегая. Принуждение. Мать. Огонь. Вечер. Второй. Разрушен. Рейс. Лезвие."  ["Creation. Fleeing. Duress. Mother. Fire. Evening. Second. Shattered. Flight. Blade."]

"Кто ты?" I demanded with all the strength I could summon.  ["Who are you?"]

The man in the beret called out "Еще раз!"  ["Again!"]

Machinery whirred, and two metal pieces made contact with my head. A painful electrical zapping forced horrible screams from my throat.

~~~

I was held in some strange type of metal chair and drenched in sweat. My head throbbed painfully, and I nearly vomited. Men with guns surrounded the railed area around me. A man in a military uniform with a crimson beret stood in front of me. 

A dark red book held the words he read aloud to me. "Создание. Убегая. Принуждение. Мать. Огонь. Вечер. Второй. Разрушен. Рейс. Лезвие."  ["Creation. Fleeing. Duress. Mother. Fire. Evening. Second. Shattered. Flight. Blade."]

"Где я?" I asked haltingly.  ["Where am I?"]

The man in the beret called out "Еще раз!" ["Again!"]

A man in a white lab coat came over to him saying, "Мы не можем продолжать лечение. Это убьет ее."  ["We cannot continue treatment. It will kill her."]

The man in the beret replied, "В отличие от Зимнего солдата, у нас нет лет, чтобы сломать ее. Время против нас. Ее надо быстро сломать." Then he called out, "Еще раз!" ["Unlike with the Winter Soldier, we do not have years to break her. Time is against us. She must be broken quickly."] ["Again!"]

Machinery whirred, and two metal pieces made contact with my head. A painful electrical zapping forced horrible screams from my throat.

~~~

I was held in some strange type of metal chair. I felt like I was dying. Everything ached. Men with guns surrounded the railed area around me.  A man in a military uniform with a crimson beret stood in front of me. 

A dark red book held the words he read aloud to me. "Создание. Убегая. Принуждение. Мать. Огонь. Вечер. Второй. Разрушен. Рейс. Лезвие." He closed the book and set it down.  ["Creation. Fleeing. Duress. Mother. Fire. Evening. Second. Shattered. Flight. Blade."]

"Доброе утро, солдат."  ["Good morning, soldier."]

A man in a white lab coat helped me out of the strange chair and handed me a pair of dark military-issue pants, a snug long-sleeve shirt which zipped up in the front and had no right sleeve, two thick socks, a set of black military-issue boots, and a belt. 

The man in the beret told me, "Одеться."  ["Get dressed."]

I promptly stripped off my sweaty cloth shorts, quickly slid on the pants, and zipped up the shirt. I put the socks on my feet, jammed my feet in the boots, and threaded the belt through my pant loops.

Two men in lab coats approached me and started taking my pulse, measuring my temperature, checking my breathing, and drawing my blood. While this was happening, one of the armed men addressed the man with the beret as "Polkovnik" and spoke with him briefly. 

Once the lab coats finished, a soldier shoved a food tray into my hands. It held a bowl of porridge, a small cup full of sausage, a spoon, and a glass of water.

"Ешь," Polkovnik instructed impatiently. ["Eat."]

The food was lukewarm and bland, yet I hurriedly ate it and gulped down the water. The scant meal did not fill me, but it dulled the hunger pangs a little. 

When I finished, Polkovnik motioned for me to follow him. He led me to a large room with a huge barred-off area, like a cage, in the center of it. There was a man inside, but I could not see him well.

"Он будет вашим тренером и научит вас всему, что вам нужно знать," Polkovnik told me and ushered me into the barred room. ["He will be your trainer and teach you everything you need to know."]

Four men in full SWAT gear and two men with clipboards and lab coats entered the cage along with Polkovnik. 

As if alerted to start by some silent queue, a man with a metal arm pulled out a knife and came towards me. I locked my arms against his wrist and kept the blade far from my body. Unable to force him to release the knife, I settled for managing to pull him closer to the ground. A half-second later, he was on top of me with the knife at my throat. 

He then dismounted, allowing me to scramble to my feet before he came at me with the knife again, only this time from above, not below. I performed the same lock as before but twisted his arm over my body and thrust the knife towards his torso. He deflected it harmlessly with his metal hand. 

Without taking a breath, he pulled a gun, aimed it straight at my face, and pulled the trigger.

Nothing happened. 

The gun was not loaded.

I finally understood. He was not trying to hurt me. He was teaching me. This was my training. Experience is the greatest teacher. 

We continued this for hours. Attacking one another, but never hurting the other. Learning without a single word ever being said. 

One of the lab coats would occasionally stop us to check various vitals and give us both water.

Eventually, Polkovnik crossed his arms and exchanged a few words with the other men in the cage. One of the men in SWAT gear came and took me by my left arm. He led me out of the cage and down a long hallway until we came to a room with a thick metal door.

Inside, there were various pieces of medical equipment, cabinets, counters, and such, but what caught my attention was the bed with a tray on it. A small piece of bread and a bowl of now cold potato-based soup with a stingy amount of millet and canned meat in it were waiting for me. I inhaled the food, which silenced some of my stomach's growling. When I finished, the man told me to lie on the bed and then fastened me to it. He flicked off the light and closed the large door behind him as he left.

Before sleep claimed me, I thought about the man with the metal arm. Zimniy Soldat they called him. Who is he? What is his story? When did he get here? Where are we? Why does he have a metal arm? How long will we be here?