#because he's been labeled as a 'stoner'

[nothingenoughao3]

Daniel Cain: Reefernator

"Dan Cain is a stoner in the novelization!"

I have never been less surprised by a characterization and it's one of the only things I'll accept from the novel as canon. Because it was already canon in the movie. I know old Gen X stoner types and I know Dan is one of them, I know it in my bones.

Behold, the home of a man who smokes a titanic amount of grass whenever he's not onscreen:

[ID: three screenshots from "Re-Animator". The first shows Meg in shadow; the second shows Meg peering into Herbert West's room; the third shows Dan standing by the door with a baseball bat, and Herbert with a medical textbook on the sofa. End ID.]

Without exception, every single windowpane in 666 Darkmoor is curtained.

The curtains are eternally drawn, day or night.

The lamp could not be loved by a cocaine-snorting yuppie. Only by a stoner who likes to play with the fringe once he's on his fifth bowl.

He still hasn't unpacked most of his shit (but I promise you this: he did unpack the box that was labeled as "first aid/bathroom stuff" but it held his glass Gandalf pipe cautiously wrapped in bubble paper, and a wooden box with his stash and his grinder in it).

Dan has house plants because he thinks that freshens the air and lessens the smell of green. He is wrong. He also feels a spiritual connection to the plants when he's giga-high. He is right.

Most telling of all, he has tacked up towels and/or random pieces of cloth over the glass windows in the doors. THAT is prime "I don't want the cops to see me smoking grass" behavior.

This is the home where the air can give you a contact high. This is the home of a man who can direct you to the nearest ditch where marijuana is growing wild in any subdivision of Arkham. It's only missing a Frank Frazetta poster and a painting of mushrooms with faces, and only because they're still in one of those boxes Dan hasn't unpacked yet.

Dan Cain can roll a blunt that will give you an out-of-body experience. Dan Cain can take fat rips off a bong that will render lesser folks speechless, melting into the sofa, and gently hallucinating. Dan Cain says your edibles ain't shit and he means it for real.

And you just know that when Herbert walked in and took a single breath, he went "Oh, okay, if blackmailing him for banging the Dean's daughter doesn't work, I can always, as humans say, 'rat him out' to 'the fuzz'."

[goatcheesecak3]

Anti - headcanons

Adam Faulkner-Stanheight

A/n I see a lot of headcanons that i could never agree with, so here's a list of things that I don't think fit Adam AT ALL, and what i think applies better instead. I've decided to call them anti-headcanons hehe :^) lmk if u want any more of these!

Adam does NOT listen to weezer, mcr or deftones. He's a music snob and he thinks mcr is for teenage girls, and even though he used to like a few deftones songs, he thinks they're too mainstream now.

He's not a stoner. Back in high school he smoked a lot, but now he doesn't really care for it. He drinks cheap beer and smokes roll ups, and that's good enough for him.

He's not straight or gay, or even bi, he doesn't like to label himself. Dgmw, he definitely got called gay in high school, but it never made him unsure of who he is. He's always been very comfortable with being fluid, he ran in very open punk circles and it wasn't a big deal to any of his friends. The whole "pick a side" thing just seems dumb to him. He likes who he likes, he doesn't really care what their gender is. He's totally cool with whatever other people identify as, but labels just never made sense to him.

Not a sub, but a switch. He honestly couldn't care less what role he's playing as long as he's getting laid.

He doesn't paint his nails- or at least as often as everyone makes out. He likes it, and he thinks it looks cool, but realistically speaking, he can't afford nail polish most months.

He's not shy at all, he's actually very outgoing. That's not to say he doesn't find himself in awkward social situations frequently, but they don't occur because he's too shy, they happen because he talks a bit too much without thinking beforehand. His personality is definitely an acquired taste, but if you can get past the fact that he has no filter whatsoever, he's genuinely a really funny and loveable guy.

[slut4sugu]

— 𝐒𝐎𝐒. 𝟏𝟎𝟎 𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓 !

─── . ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀ ♡ SOME WORDS FROM KAM: I just want to thank all of your for 100+ followers! It has been so much fun writing for you all and I greatly appreciate the support! So now I hope you all enjoy this milestone event!!

─── . ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀ ♡ SOME WARNINGS: some of these works will have mature content so minors Dni! I will label the ones that are sfw and nsfw, happy reading and thank you all so much again!

Here is SZA’s full SOS album in case you wanna listen to it however you want </3

NO.1 - SOS.

MDNI !

I CAN DO YOU BETTER [feat!] hobie brown

Lyrics : bestfriend!hobie x black fem reader, readers ex on the phone, fingering, hobie being evil </3, use of names like: doll, pretty thing, princess, cunnilingus, cursing, mentions of weed and alcohol use, bit of a slow burn

Summary: Your bestfriend hobie comforts you after getting broken up over the phone with your ex, and gives you the treatment you’ve always deserved.

NO. 2 - KILL BILL.

MDNI !

Come Back Darlin feat! [feat!] rue Bennett

Lyrics : ex!rue x fem!black reader, mentions smoking, makeout session, rue being slightly sappy, thigh riding, being almost caught by Gia, fluff at the end </3, cursing

Summary: you broke up with rue because her addiction was too concerning and you felt as though she would never change no matter what you said to her. After an argument you broke up, though as weeks then months passed rue started to realized your her drug. The strongest there fuckin is.

NO. 3 - SEEK & DESTROY.

BULLSEYE [feat!] assassin Toji x fem!black reader

Lyrics: Toji being hot as usual, reader having to treat his scars, suggestiveness, fluff, use of the name: doll, pretty, baby, princess, ma, toji being a sweetheart, use of guns, cursing.

Summary: you didn’t know what toji specifically did for work until you started to put pieces together, the excessive guns, weaponry, especially the scars. Then one night your boyfriend of 2 years sat you down an told you everything.

NO. 4 - LOW.

SHOW OFF [ feat!] 42!miles x fem!blackreader

Lyrics: miles being protective of you as per usual, jealousy themes, cursing, rio being suspicious, slight angst then fluff, reader being worried for miles, miles spoiling reader, slight suggestiveness

Summary: you found out that miles was the prowler, and assured him you would still want to be with him despite what he does as a ‘job’. But because you know he makes your relationship a secret, so that not even uncle Aron would know.

NO. 5 - SMOKING ON MY EX PACK.

MDNI !

F*CK OFF [ feat!] suna x fem!black reader

Lyrics: atsumu being a dick, angst to fluff, smoking, stoner suna, skipping school, alottt of cursing, fighting between atsumu n suna, suna being a sweetheart to reader, cheating themes, mentions of a abusive relationship between atsumu and reader

Summary: After a long awaited break up with a toxic atsumu, you struggle to love yourself again. So your old friend comes to ease your mental pain, and real ease some tension.

NO. 6 GOOD DAYS.

MDNI !

MY HEART [ feat!] ? x fem!black reader (it’s a surprise <33)

Lyrics: ? being an absolute sweetheart, use of vibrator, slight age gap, reader is in her late 20’s and ? is in her early 30’s, cunnilingus, edging, aftercare, use of names: Honey, princess, sweetheart, baby

Summary: ? met you one day at a concert and couldn’t take her eyes off your cute outfit for the whole show, after getting your insta, meet ups begin to happen in discreet locations and reserved buildings before turning into stays in her penthouse.

[katyawriteswhump]

the freak in the penthouse: the end!

E-rated (for sexual content), accidental millionaire eddie/sex-worker steve. On tumblr: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3.1 Part 3.2 Part 4.1 Part 4.2 Part 5.1 Part 5.2 Part 6.1 Part 6.2 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 or search #thefreakinthepenthouse :) On AO3

Chapter 18: Epilogue (2/2) and Happily Ever After

They passed through the hotel lobby, grinning like lovestruck morons, lost in each other’s eyes.

Odd couple didn’t even faintly capture it. Eddie was, of course, wearing a thrash metal t-shirt and a bellhop hat, while Steve sported a thousand-dollar designer suit. If they got any judgmental looks, Eddie didn’t notice any more than he cared. To these high society jerks, he might look like a flat-broke stoner. Joke on them was that the credit card Eddie had slammed on the counter was well in the black.

Vecna’s Doom Quest II had been a blockbuster hit. While he’d paid all his early royalties back to Dustin, Suzie and their charitable trusts, he and Steve had plenty of cash left over for them to live a lifestyle that… wasn’t beyond their wildest dreams, actually. So far, and with the exception of the harrowing court cases, it’d been quiet and domestic and just kinda nice.

When they approached the revolving door, Steve reached out and squeezed Eddie’s hand. Steve was always super-vigilant, looking out for him, when they were out and about in crowded places. Occasionally, Eddie also worried they were getting too responsible and middle-aged before their time.

Or maybe not.  

When they finally got back to their rented apartment, there were six messages on the answerphone:

“Dude, pick up!” Gareth whined, on the full-to-bursting tape. “Jeff’s van’s totally busted, so we’re gonna fly down and practice on your gear at the apartment. You better be ready, man.”

Ooookay. Quiet domesticity was about to be shattered.

Eddie had finally persuaded Corroded Coffin to get back together. While he army-crawled his way toward the challenge of performing live again, they’d recorded a demo and scattered-gunned it all over LA. Next week they’d gotten their first actual audition, with a lowkey Indie label.

Now, Eddie grimaced, while Steve made a beeline for the galley kitchen. While Eddie was pumped for the audition, he’d hoped they’d have a day or so more to themselves.

“Better order several crates of beer in,” muttered Steve, pausing to kick a stray drumstick out of his path. He dumped a paper bag of snaffled pastries from the hotel kitchen. “I got first dibs on the leftover cinnamon buns, before your crew eat us out of house and fucking home.”

“Look, I know you said you were fine with the band crashing here,” said Eddie, pursuing Steve across the barely visible linoleum, “you sure about that?”

“I do technically own a hotel for a few more hours.” Steve chugged back some Diet Coke then shrugged. “This place is already cluttered with your shit. I can rarely find middle C on my keyboard, so I don’t see what difference a few more sweaty bodies is gonna make, and… I get it, Eddie. If you guys wanna be real again, or whatever, capture the right vibes, you need to get back to those grass roots.”

As long as nobody smokes grass in my Babe’s apartment. Eddie wasn’t going to say that out loud, because Steve would bristle. Eddie would quietly enforce it anyway.

“Okay, feel free to change your mind,” he said. “They piss us off, I’m sure Robin can store them in your old linen closet, or something.”

Steve snickered, but genuinely seemed chill about it. In fact, his smirk segued into a grin, one hand snaking around to find that strategically placed rip in Eddie’s jeans—so yeah, basically groping Eddie’s butt-cheek. “We better make the most of our privacy, right?” he purred.

Eddie stalled only to plop back on the bellhop hat, which he’d still gotten clutched in one sweaty paw: “Your wish is my command.”

“Jesus, will you drop that shit?” Steve’s grip on Eddie’s ass tightened, and he smacked his lips to Eddie’s in an inarguably hungry kiss.

…

Steve couldn’t ever get enough of kissing Eddie. He couldn’t ever get enough of their life together.

Today, Eddie tasted of coffee and almond pastries and of… yeah, that uniquely awesome taste of Eddie. Kissing him set off the sappiest lyrics wailing in Steve’s ears. He was only sorry, as he backed Eddie out of the kitchen and toward the bedroom, that they’d not gotten Corroded Coffin’s ‘Fire Shroud’ demo blasting from the beatbox. Steve, basically, had Bryan Adams on a hell-loop: ‘You know it's truuuue, Everything I dooooo, I do it for yooooou!’

On the other hand, it was so good to have music as his happy place again.

Before, he’d hardly been able to endure songs he once loved. The feelings that they’d triggered, and the avalanche of memories, had been too overwhelming. Once he’d learned the truth about his parents, he’d been able to grieve at last. To finally move on, knowing they’d done their best to look out for him after all. It wasn’t their fault—nor his, really—that he’d been conned.

He even conceded that Extreme cover of ‘Love of my Life’ was passable. But only after he made Eddie sing the original Queen harmonies—as many as one guy could—while he was belting it out on his other new beloved, his Yamaha keyboard.

One matter between them remained slightly off-key, though.

Eddie was still hyper-conscious about how things had started out, how he’d hired Steve as a hooker. Steve was eternally telling him that he didn’t need to ‘make amends,’ that they’d rarely been out-of-kilter in the bedroom. Eddie still needed reassurance sometimes.

Which Steve was more than willing to give.

Now, when they broke for air, Steve wedged his fingers under the chin strap of the bellhop cap. He swung Eddie around with it before shoving him down flat on their entirely normal-sized double bed. Who needed Emperor-size when you sleep best entangled in each other? Eddie didn’t snore so bad since he quit, while Steve’s asthma was pretty much under control.

Though not as much as he had a demonically grinning Eddie completely under his control. He straddled Eddie’s torso, playfully pinning Eddie’s arms either side of his head.

“I can ask for anything, right?” Steve arched over Eddie, nibbling his lips down the curve of Eddie’s throat.

“Hell, yeeeeeah,” Eddie was saying, his voice pitching toward a squeak. Steve nuzzled his thrumming voice-box and undulated on top of him, bumping and grinding against his groin.

“Let’s start with getting rid of that dumb hat.”  It was flung across the room in an instant. “Seeing as I’m gonna spend the next week being your groupie”—Steve paused to scrub his tongue up the shallow stubble on Eddie’s throat— “I want you to get totally metal on my ass. I mean, Jesus, Munson! It’s been a traumatic day. I’m not in the mood for heavy lifting.”

Then he slammed back down for another kiss, rolling and grappling and hugging and laughing, till Eddie rolled on top, pinning him instead.

“Fuuuuuck, Stevie!” Eddie now sucked Steve’s earlobe, nibbling the line of his jaw. Eddie’s hands slid down his arms, thumbing the super-sensitive arc of Steve’s elbow—Christ, when he was with Eddie, every part of his skin turned into an erogenous zone. They helped each other out of their shirts—not quite sending buttons flying nor seams ripping. Eddie really loved that Exodus t-shirt, which was limited edition and pretty much irreplaceable, while Steve had only sunk money into one premium-brand court day outfit.

“God, I love you so much,” whispered Eddie. “Have I ever told you how beautiful your body is?”

“Yeah. Every day. Never gets old… Shit, yeah… Lower… Gnng!” Eddie’s breaths blazed over Steve’s tightly sucked-in belly, while Steve gyrated up against him. Then Eddie hooked his fingers in Steve’s tailored waistband and peeled Steve’s pants down—a relief, because Steve’s erection was definitely straining plenty of stitches around there. He forgot that the instant he was freed, the pants tossed aside. Eddie took Steve’s dick in his mouth and pure liquid ecstasy overtook him.

Steve rested his head back on the feather-soft pillow, otherwise floating on thin air, all his awareness confined to the blowjob. Eddie suckled briefly, then licked his length, before seeking out that tender patch round the back of Steve’s dick that Eddie knew he loved. Like he loved when Eddie’s rough knuckles kneaded and toyed at the base of his balls. He loved how they knew each other’s desires so damn well.

“Yes, there… Christ!” Steve literally went cross-eyed with need. Nevertheless, while he knew Eddie would happily blow him and swallow every last drop of jizz, that wasn’t what Steve wanted right now:

“Hey, groupie wants his ass played with.”

“Demanding brat, aren’t you, groupie?”

Steve grinned, tightened his fist in Eddie’s hair. “Always.”

Steve rolled onto his belly, and luxuriated in Eddie’s skilled hands, playing him like a goddamn musical instrument. Okay, cliché alert, but who fucking cared? Eddie worked Steve open, slicked fingers strumming inside him, and Steve leaked precum everywhere. They’d need to change the sheets before the band arrived, or there was gonna be some real grungy stains around.

Steve, still squirming and simmering, peeped back to watch Eddie lubing his so-fucking-ready dick.  Steve was in the mood for doggy, so he pushed himself up onto his forearms and knees, keening with relief when he felt Eddie’s cock nudge along his crack. His whole frame tautened to breaking point, tight springs coiling in the base of his dick and sacs. Then he unleashed a comfortable sigh and pressed backward, the same instant Eddie jerked his hips forward and breached him.

He kinda happy sobbed, eyes watering. Oh wow. That moment of total connection… that stretching, searing, almost-too-much yumminess.

“Yes… wow… so good,” he panted.

“Damn, you feel sweet, groupie,” cooed Eddie, an arm bracing Steve’s middle, kissing Steve’s nape. Steve’s shoulders loosened a little and he adjusted to the penetration.

“Not so bad yourself, rockstar.”

Steve snatched a tight breath then exhaled again, long and hard, his body softening toward a puddle of pleasure. Apart from his dick, which was obviously screamingly hard. Screw houses with swimming pools—as far as Steve was concerned, this was Eddie’s forever home. He twisted his head to nip Eddie’s ludicrously soft, lush lips with a wet kiss.

“Metal on my ass, right?”

“Whatever you desire, my Liege.”

Eddie began to move, and so did Steve. Despite what he’d said earlier, Steve found himself totally pepped for a workout. He thrust back against Eddie, setting the rhythm at that perfect pace—fast enough to set his teeth lightly rattling, but slow enough for the drag against his prostate to absolutely set him on fire. He was just reaching for his needy dick, when Eddie beat him to it, chivalrously pumping Steve to the rhythm of their lovemaking.

Steve grinned into the pillow and let the pleasure build and crash through him. They’d melded as one, like waves on the fucking sun-kissed seashore. As Eddie surged into him, Steve crashed back.

“Stevie,” sighed Eddie, voice wavering on pained. “Dammit… Fuck, fuck… how does this just keep getting better?”

“Fuuuuck!” wailed Steve, so not in the headspace for existential discussions. He was caught between wanting this to continue forever, and the sensations getting a touch too much. His climax built in those mad waves, then rushed upon him. As he started to come, Eddie did too, deep inside him, in a series of joyful, juddering thrusts.

…

They floated happily, tangled together, through their shared post-coital high.

Steve wound up dozing with his nose buried courageously close to Eddie’s sweaty armpit. Eddie, on the other hand, wasn’t quite in the mood for a nap. He stretched out and grabbed a music mag from a pile on the bedside cabinet, causing a minor avalanche.

He leafed through, until his attention zoned in on an advertisement that made his blood jump: “Yikes.”

“What?” Steve’s muffled voice resonated through Eddie’s chest.

“Check this out, Babe. The actual owners of Jimi Hendrix’s guitar are putting it up for auction.”

“Oh. Wow.” Steve’s chin dug into Eddie’s pec as he slid his face up to see what Eddie was on about, and Eddie helped by brushing his hair from his eyes. “Well, if you reckon it’s gonna help you in the audition, maybe you should—”

“Naaaah,” said Eddie, the word blending into an unbothered yawn. He chucked the magazine to the floor and curled both arms around Steve, cuddling him a little tighter. “It’s gonna be me and my two true sweethearts against the world from now on.”

“You can battle all you like with your beloved guitar, man. I’m looking forward to not having the world fight back for a change.” Steve sounded invigoratingly bitchy.

Eddie pressed a kiss to his hair. They curled up beneath the covers to enjoy being naked together… till the arrival of Corroded Coffin sent their lives spiralling off into a new kind of chaos, this time entirely of their own choosing.

The End

🐰💕🐰💕🐰💕🐰💕 🐰💕🐰💕🐰💕🐰💕 🐰💕🐰💕🐰💕

perma-tag for the best inspiration friend ever: @wheneverfeasible (who has kindly put together a playlist for this fic, which I will get up on my tumblr over the next few days hopefully, after a few final additions 😊)

Thank you for reading to the end and I really hope you enjoyed the fic. Likes, re-blogs, comments and follows are always very much appreciated and will help feed the bunnies for possible future fic, though I've a feeling this will be my last long fic, at least for now, though I do intend to finish all my WIPs, including 'power of love' over the next few weeks, if possible🐰💕🐰💕🐰💕🐰💕

On tumblr: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3.1 Part 3.2 Part 4.1 Part 4.2 Part 5.1 Part 5.2 Part 6.1 Part 6.2 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 or search #thefreakinthepenthouse :)

On AO3 All my ST stuff on AO3

[gogandmagog]

so what are your favorite books/authors besides lm montgomery...I maybe just maybe am tailoring my goodreads tbr for next year 👀

“I love a book that makes me cry.”

– Anne Shirley, Anne of Green Gables

And apparently me too??? I’m just over here adding this grossly popular quote right at the top of this list after having wrote it up, because when I look back over these all-star books that rushed to be highlighted, I realise that… every last one of these moved me to tears.

But I’ve read them all half-a-dozen of times, at least! 🥺 So, here we go, here we go!

Beloved by Toni Morrison. This one knocked me out, good and proper. It’s such a masterpiece. It starts in the 1870’s of Ohio and follows a former slave and her daughter. It’s got a strong Haunted House vibe (there is a ghost), and it opens up with both something quite Maud-would-appreciate-this-ish and quite chilling; "124 WAS SPITEFUL. Full of a baby's venom. The women in the house knew it and so did the children. For years each put up with the spite in his own way, but by 1873 Sethe and her daughter Denver were its only victims." Mind, some people haaate this book, and feel quite strongly about it — but I like prosey books (this is the top complaint as far as I can tell), and this one is certainly that. Some very harrowing descriptions of the abuse of slaves, to be sure, but I personally have never been one to turn away from that ugliness, because remembering and understanding its weight feels important.

Stoner by John Williams. This is a little bit like ‘life sucks, and then you die’ — hyper precise about mundanities and is frankly a huge red flag to see sitting on a dudes bookshelf but… I loved it so much. 😅 It’s quiet, but poignant, and in its simplest rendering is about a very bored English Professor falling greatly in love with someone who is not his wife. Keep in mind, I’m hardly a girl who thinks infidelity is either cute or excusable… but this book firmly lodged itself in my heart, anyway.

Giovanni’s Room by James Baldwin. I’m a HUGE BIG HUGE BIG HUGE Baldwin fan. And this is the book that started it, for me. Like, this novel will fully pull you apart, and give you a wallowing. I’d say it's even a great atmospheric read for winter, and I also even want to go ahead and say this book is considered a classic, but I could be making that up; maybe it’s just a classic to me. The plot surrounds the struggles of a bisexual man in late 1950’s Paris; he’s just proposed to his girlfriend, but he goes on and has a relationship with a male bartender. There’s race, misogyny, and class issues here too, but this book isn’t so heavy that it becomes cumbersome to read. It’s actually quite beautiful. 

The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy. Another prosey book. Maybe the most prosey book I’ve ever read… you don’t really get a break from it. But it’s so lush, and visceral, and the word play is sometimes so genius that you don’t mind getting fully lost in it (at least, I didn't!). This book could be labeled “tragedy” because it’s sometimes rather bleak – it's about fraternal Indian twins, Kerala history, and the lasting impact of childhood traumas, as well as the exploitation of the weak, really. But, there’s high points too!

Elsewhere if you haven’t read Peter Pan as an adult, I urge and beg of you to. J.M. Barrie (that’s James Matthew Barrie, and I will never stop conspiring that this is intentional of Montgomery and James Matthew Blythe) is right up there with Lucy Maud in the realm of exquisite and sweet storytelling that transcends age.

Of course Shirley Jackson, but you’re already a reader there! Fanny Howe has been an obsession of mine lately, too — I think I’ve posted her twice here and here — despite her being a poet, which is something of a fault that I’m being very charitable about overlooking (only half-joking, I really usually don’t care for poetry [except you Mary Oliver], not even LMM’s or by extension Anne or Walter’s either). Eve Babitz and Joan Didion are close personal friends (okay, it’s one-sided).

Anyone else that I read over and over are so classic that it’s almost white noise/nonsense to list them. I think the Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde is my all-time never-to-be-defeated, and Lolita (despite its very uncomfortable content) by Vladimir Nabokov is a close second (I once saw Lolita cited as being ‘a love letter to the English language’ and I frankly agreed with my whole chest), and Down and Out in Paris and London by George Orwell (his essays are things of brilliance too) takes bronze. I also obviously throw myself at the feet of the likes of C.S. Lewis and Lewis Carroll and Fyodor Dostoevsky and Virginia Woolf and Kafka and Sylvia Plath and Charles Dickens and James Joyce, and all of Those Guys too. Genuinely. I also wholly stan Washington Irving. He’s most famous for Sleepy Hallow, which I’ll link right here because if you tap on it and read even a single line, I think you’ll be like, ‘oh right, he is sensational.’ And this quality continues throughout his catalogue!

Signing off with a true and sincere hope that you’ll consider sharing your TBR list with everyone, and maybe some recommendations of your own, too!!! Your opinion means worlds!!!

[hesitatingspirit]

I. Boy v. World

it feels like the world is against me sometimes.

and i dont know how to make it clear that i just want to be left alone. say hi my name is adam nice to meet you please dont hurt me im just a boy please i just want to be treated like one of you. you dont have to even talk to me but if you refer to me just maybe say he but if not its okay & i’m still too aggressive. say nothing at all and i’m just too difficult to even bother with at all. loser from the start, this is an eternal summer and you’re god’s least favourite cold-blooded experiment. strap in and enjoy the ride: you’ll be here for a long time.

If I am offended by someone calling me a woman, I am too much. I am one of those trannies that makes everything about them, the spitting image of the blue-haired, big-mouthed, angry-faced caricatures of trans individuals created by the right. If I am not offended, I am making a bad name for my fellow trans siblings by not standing up for myself when people misidentify me. I am normalising the idea that people are allowed to “mess up” on purpose, label me as whatever they want. I can never win: The only way would be to never get misgendered again. To not even have it be a possibility…

But we all know that this can never happen.

No matter what I do, I am always wrong,

because what did I expect when I chose to do this?

I mean,

Everyone knows how the world feels about people like me.

What DID I expect?

Would it have been easier for me to just stay a girl?

Easier for which one of us?

The world is run by spiders weaving complex webs of lies and careful misinformation, all vague enough to seem true to those who only catch the news in passing and parrot it at work, conversing at the water coolers. But being wrong is a disease, and baby, it's contagious: Mask up and shut your mouth and maybe even your ears too.

They are just trying to provoke me. They want to make me step out of line, so when I finally say “hey im a bit uncomfortable” They can finally say

I knew there was something about him!

He is one of those, he lied!

He DOES make his identity his whole personality!

No. It seems that my identity has become YOUR personality,

because my gender defines everyone but me:

The way people react to my face usually tells me all I need to know.

I can recognise a cold gaze from around the corner,

through a brick wall and from a mile away

I'm a psychic, honey, and I'm never gonna change,

so dont shoot the Messenger, okay?

and it goes like this it goes

boy with mustache makes a face when stranger calls him a girl

boy with mustache apologises for the trouble in case stranger noticed

stranger scoffs i dont see why it's such a big deal you can't expect everyone to understand

boy says i know and i’m sorry

boy goes home and forgets what he looks like.

It kinda goes like this:

different place wake up with a different face who am i today well everyone sees different things

but you know me i ride my own wave, this is My summer soundtrack

i am a skateboarder i am a stoner i am a rockstar

i am a bleach blond baby boy abandoned by god and i will never die again

mask after mask name after name

another ring around my eyes after another night awake

bags full of sleep deprived weekends staying busy with a racing head

lids heavy with the memories of endless nights

it’ll weigh me down ‘til i’m lowered into my early grave

and all the brick roads and sunsets up in my favourite singer’s hometown will never hit me the same

ghosts see the world differently,

ever so slightly colourblind

translucent lids half-covering eyes that have grown so tired from all they’ve seen

an eternity an observer

an eternity more to go

the people who care what you look like or hate what you listen to aren't really people that should be in your life anyway. so i don't care too much when they cut me off.

i don't care at all,

i just find it so insane that somehow i'm hurting people by being alive. by breathing.

if i enjoyed the shapes of the words she and her in your mouth if i enjoyed the twang of their sound waves if i could love the way the words hit my eardrums then my existence would be pure, a gift from god and i would be a miracle

but because i stand up for myself

because i have committed the crime of wanting to be happy

i am irredeemably evil

forever unclean,

stain on society and a file best left unopened.

top secret, confidential. don't ask, don't tell, but tell them what you don't know, tell them what you want to think. don't ask, don't tell, but they’ll always ask, and you’ll always tell.

“we don’t talk about her anymore.”

“she went crazy.”

“i heard it was drugs that did it.”

“i heard it was schizophrenia.”

“i think she was into witchcraft.”

god forbid a boy want to be loved: god forbid i avenge my death.

porcelain is so easily cracked,

you don't think i have a right to self defense?

i have to crawl out of my grave because this city is all i know. and this place can get so damn cold.

my rebirth will be slow. it will be terrible. and it is commencing.

[kingofdersecest-2]

Hey there, you made a post where you said-"Gamzee is back, and he's talking about a redemption arc, all the while saying "My ninja" which of course is code for "My nigga" because why not make all those things people said about Gamzee being a black stoner true! Ha ha, so progressive!" And I just wanted to add some context.

Using ninja instead of the n word is very much so a white juggalo thing, like, outside of homestuck. It's not a good thing (let's be real, most things inherent to juggalos are sus at best) but it is very much so a real life thing that real white trash does and has been around since the early 2000s when people started telling ICP and Twizted that the n word was off limits. I really can't speak for the Homestuck writers intentions or wether they even know about juggalo lingo like that but "Magic Ninjas" is the name of the label that Twizted owns and at their shows you will hear (white) people chanting "magic, magic ningas, what!" Instead of the traditional "whoop whoop!" Of ICP.

Who knows what the hs2 writers were thinking really, but I thought it was worth mentioning the context they pulled that lingo from.

Lmao thats kinda funny. I mean i believe anyone can use any words at any time for any reason. But I can see why ICP probably wouldnt want their crowd spamming the n word. So ninjas are the substitute. So we're basically as close to the n word being canon in Homestuck as we can possibly be with that whole ninja thing, arent we? That is probably the most hilarious goddamn thing thats come of the Epilogues and HS^2. Some people think retarded is a slur, so I guess Homestuck has already broken its slur virginity, and technically the trolls have slur names for different blood colors. But its still really fucking funny.

[horrendous-bisexual-showdown]

Poll 6

Leon Anders (He/Him) by @homunculusrex

Why Should Your OC Win?

Your Honor.. Hes Just a lil fella...

What is Your OC Like?

A very good boy who loves animals. Socially Awkward disaster. So absorbed in his work that he has no idea that not having many hobbies outside of work makes him kinda look like a freak. Has been able to commune with animals his entire life and had no idea until like, yesterday, when somebody pointed out that Thats Not Normal. Decided hes gonna use these powers to be a superhero because Its The Right Thing To Do. Hes Fucking Dogshit At It but hes trying so hard and I believe in him.

Sorelia Divisav (She/Her) by @dixy

Why Should Your OC Win?

she is a fail woman. she may be a successful underground musician but she is a fail woman. she has a motorcycle but she'll trip getting off of it while flirting & just lay on the ground. also i love her

What is Your OC Like?

Sorelia is the bassist & lead singer in her 3 person sludge/stoner metal band. Shes a 300 year old elf & has been playing music her whole life & somewhat recently took up bass, and loves doing experimental work in her makeshift music studio basement. shes very silly and impulsive & smokes weed on her twin brothers sidewalk. she has a schizospec disorder and gets very paranoid about her likeness being posted online without permission sometimes, but pretty chill & laid back otherwise. shes pretty flirty but has commitment issues in a "i feel uncomfortable labeling a relationship" way. her brother is immortal so sometimes as a prank she waits for him to come down the hallway to shoot him with a crossbow because its hilarious how much it inconveniences him. fashion wise shes stuck in the 90s & wears a lot of grunge, especially big tshirts & baggy pants, or those old fairy tshirts. her gender is bisexual woman specifically.

[lovestuckyhatemarvel]

Okay so, here we are with season 4 episode 1 of Stranger Things. But before I get into the episode, I need to explain something: I’ve never actually watched this season before. I have, however, watched Steddie compilations on YouTube. Regardless, I’m labeling this as a ‘rewatch’ because it’ll keep the series consistent. And parts of it technically are a rewatch. Anyway, these are also going to be way longer than usual because a lot more is just Brand New™️ to me. Although some I haven’t seen but do know because of fanfiction.

1.) I literally can’t remember what made the Texas shooting something that would be necessary to be mentioned at the beginning when America has shootings all the time.

Edit: I have been reminded of the actual case it’s referencing. But I think Texas shooting is going to become less and less of an obvious connection as time goes on, especially for people who aren’t in America. I am in America, and there’s just…too many shootings to keep track of, tbh.

2.) I don’t know why I’m watching this recap. I literally watched season 3 last week or whatever but they really cut out the Russian interrogation/secret base locating stuff entirely from their recap.

3.) season 4 really starts out by being like, “Remember Brenner? Remember that douchebag? Well, guess what. He’s actually super boring in everyday life.”

4.) 010 come on down to get your psychic powers tested and your ability to interpret Brenner’s bad drawings tested. Oh nvm at least now they’re trying to locate people only to witness both Six and Dr. Ellis’ death.

5.) Wait why did Brenner survive this? How did Brenner survive this? Ten is dead. Also, since when does Brenner care about the kids? It’s not like he’s treated them well.

6.) El looking really crazy covered in blood and basically hyperventilating.

7.) El’s got her own room. Also, we’ve gone 185 days since season 3 and now El is painting little figures. And is giving a recap via letter. Joyce is a telemarketer, Will is gay pining, Jonathan has a broken car and is a stoner. Argyle has a pizza van and takes them to school. The bullies in school are cliches.

8.) Nancy drives Mike to school and Karen Wheeler looks great. Also they want Mike home by 9 pm because of his 6:30 flight.

9.) Suzie is editing a D- to an A for Dustin.

10.) I love this conversation about crushes between Robin and Steve. Boobies. Although I don’t like Robin’s hair as much this season.

11.) Max rides the bus and missed a Thursday meeting so needs to go after lunch.

12.) oh there’s Chrissy. And here’s the marching band with Robin playing the TRUMPET. Looks like Vickie’s a clarinet player. Jason and Lucas on the basketball team while Dustin and Mike argue about girlfriends in the crowd.

13.) I know it’s way too early since Jason hasn’t done anything yet, but I already hate him. He just has a punchable face. “Think about all these dead people DID THEY DIE FOR US TO LOSE AT BASKETBALL?” I would have keyed his car in high school. Like oh my god.

14.) Mike and Dustin are nerds and freaks and proud of it. To be fair, Lucas always has been cooler than them. But also Lucas should have gone to Eddie himself.

15.) PACKAGE. FROM. RUSSIA. Man, do not ever send anything delicate to Joyce, she fucking demolishes packages. Oh, that’s an ugly doll. I’ve read about the doll but didn’t know it was that ugly.

16.) El/Jane has to go after a blonde girl talking about Helen Keller for her presentation about Hopper? That’s rough, buddy. Angela is a bitch and I hate her Ariana Grande looking ass. Will is trying and I love that him and El are siblings but yeah, no, that presentation went badly.

17.) Max is doing her loner thing but does get to see Chrissy being upset in the hall as she heads away from the counselor.

18.) C in English and C- in Spanish. It’s not normal for Max but babe, C’s get degrees. You’ll be okay. Max’s mom is drinking, working two jobs, and stepdad is gone. Max is still my favorite even if she is a liar. Lucas’ advice about finding something she cares about is technically good but poor wording and timing. Max isn’t really open for help.

19.) Stranger Things really loves shots of people in bathrooms holding the sides of the sink. Also we get to hear Chrissy vomiting.

20.) Chrissy’s hallucinating. She has issues with her mom being awful about her weight and honestly, mood.

21.) Oh hi, Eddie. You’re a goofy guy. And now Eddie walks across the table. Also honestly, so far the bullying in Hawkins is like, minimal. All that happened in that scene is Eddie got called a freak. Dustin and Mike do try to get the game postponed. I still think Lucas should have asked. Eddie’s got to pass Mrs. O’Donnell’s class and that’s it to pass the class. Eddie really does yank both those dweebs out of their seats with barely any effort.

22.) Murray has karate from 1-3 on Fridays? Good for him. Oh and the doll from Russia has nipples. Teeny tiny nipples. And now needs to be smashed.

23.) Everyone thinks it’s weird that Nancy and Jonathan aren’t spending spring break together. I still think Nancy’s a comphet case. I love that Mike asks Nancy and Dustin asks Steve. Max is sarcastic to Dustin’s request which is very funny. Literally everyone shoots them down. Dustin comes up with an idea nad sprints off faster than I knew was possible.

24.) Oh it’s the picnic table behind the school scene. And we hear and see a clock chiming as she waits for Eddie. I’ve never actually seen the build up to the meeting with Eddie. Did not know the clock breaks and spills spiders.

25.) Eddie is tempted to leave ‘cause Chrissy is acting crazy. Eddie is very dramatic and they were in a talent show together. Eddie used to have buzzed hair and now plays at the Hideout on Tuesdays. I would have loved for Chrissy to live and for these two to be another Steve and Robin. Chrissy asks for something stronger.

26.) El failed a math test, I think? And if that’s the test she failed, it’s extra sad because that’s what she called herself good at in the opening letter. And then Angela tripped her? And her stupid friends stomp on her project. I wanna kick Angela’s ass. El forgets that she doesn’t have powers and it’s so embarrassing. El doesn’t snitch but a teacher takes Angela away anyway.

27.) Will feels so bad and is trying so hard to help.

28.) I feel like it wouldn’t require a paint can from a tree to break a porcelain doll. Oh, Murray thinks it might have an explosive. AND IT’S FILLED WITH A NOTE SAYING HOP IS ALIVE AND IT’S WRITTEN IN CUT OUT LETTERS LIKE IT’S FROM A SERIAL KILLER. WHY DID THEY DO THAT??? LMAO

29.) And now it’s the championship. I feel like fanfics stretch episode 1 into like, 3 chapters. Steve came with his date to see Lucas. And here’s Tammy Thompson. And she’s…bad. this bad performance is worth it for Steve’s sassy expressions.

30.) Oh, hey Erica Sinclair. LMAO WAIT, IS SHE WEARING AN AMERICAN FLAG? GOD, YOU DWEEB. I will say that the rest of hellfire that just kind of chortles in response to everything is so far just background noise that I do not care about. I do love that Erica is way better at insults than Eddie and he kind of adores her.

31.) I still hate Jason.

32.) Technically if we’re going with the lore of we thought Vecna was killed by Kas then technically El/Jane is this show’s Kas.

33.) Okay going back and forth is too hard when they’re going back this fast between basketball and Hellfire so I’ll just summarize at the end. Lucas going in and the gameplay mirror each other very obviously. It’s an old trope but a good one. Eddie’s unhinged.

34.) “There is no shame in running. Don’t be heroes.”

35.) Dustin misses and so does Jason. But Lucas and Erica both win. This slow mo is kind of excessive. Eddie’s fucking thrilled that Erica did a critical success. Although did they actually need a natural 20 to win? That doesn’t really make sense if the guy only has 15 HP left. Presumably they haven’t been critting to attack this fucking thing this entire session. So really it’s a matter of going above his AC. And technically you don’t need a nat 20 to do that, especially if you have enough bonuses. Although they are playing a different version of D&D than I’ve ever played so maybe I’m taking out of my ass.

36.) Aw, Max listened to the game’s result on the radio. I thought she went. Her mom is passed out on the couch. Max takes food to a dog. Eddie lives like, directly across from her. For some reason, from fanfics, I thought they were like, directly next to each other. Still, Max saw Chrissy go into his trailer.

37.) Wayne works nights. Eddie does not know where his ketamine is. Should keep track of that. That is a very cool guitar he has though. Chrissy’s hallucinations are very bad now and she’s no longer responsive. And now the lights are flickering. Vecna’s ugly as hell. There are so many spiders in this vision. Eddie really is trying to wake her up but I’m not sure how he thought I DON’T LIKE THIS, CHRISSY, WAKE UP would help.

38.) did not know we see Vecna in episode 1. “It’s time for your suffering to end.” Don’t be weird, dude. And now Chrissy is floating. Her death is like, both weirdly graphic and also sanitized. Like it looks cartoonish. I didn’t realize how cartoonish it looks. Bones don’t break through the skin. There’s barely any blood. Her skin moves like putty.

[randomvarious]

Spleen - "That Was My Head" Darque Fonque 1997 Illbient / Trip Hop

Plays: 1.4K+ on YouTube

Although his biggest successes have come via his partnership with UK alt-indie darling PJ Harvey as her producer, Bristol native Rob Ellis has also headed up a nebulous side project called Spleen, which was less of a band and more of a large collective. In their roughly ten years of work, Spleen managed to release a total of three albums and three singles, and PJ Harvey herself is considered to have been a member of the project.

The thing about Spleen though is that every single song in their catalog was made by an assortment of different people, meaning no song has the same exact lineup. And I guess that's what led to their sound being classified as a whole bunch of different things, from stoner rock, to art rock, to jazz-rock, to avant garde, to ambient, to experimental rock. But with this track that originated from their first 12-inch, 1996's Like a Watermelon, they appear to add illbient trip hop to that varied list of genres.

Illbient, for those that don't know, is this very eerie, unsettling, dark, and off-kilter form of instrumental hip hop or trip hop. Its foremost practitioner is a very talented guy who goes by the name of DJ Spooky (naturally), and he was part of this tight-knit scene that formed in Williamsburg, Brooklyn in the mid-90s. Illbient's biggest label, WordSound, is also responsible for releasing top-notch hip hop producer Prince Paul's long-awaited debut album, Psychoanalysis: What Is It?, in 1997, which got into some hip hop experimentalism as well.

Anyway, that Brooklyn-made illbient sound appears to have also seeped its way across the pond, as the duo of Techno Animal—Godflesh lead singer and former Napalm Death drummer Justin Broadrick and his constant collaborator Kevin Martin, aka The Bug—brought it forth in 1995 with a lengthy double-disc called Re-Entry, which was released on Virgin. Then the following year, Spleen went in a similar direction with a song called "That Was My Head," which first appeared on the Like a Watermelon 12-inch, and was then included on Middle Earth Recordings' Darque Fonque compilation in 1997.

But there's actually a common thread here between Spleen and Techno Animal: a drummer from Chicago named Lou Ciccotelli, who's played in some UK bands, including one called God, which also claimed the two guys from Techno Animal as its members. And Ciccotelli is also credited with co-writing this Spleen song with Rob Ellis, so maybe he's the one who brought the Techno Animal-God sound along with him to make this tune? Most other Spleen tracks don't sound like this one 🤔.

The overall eeriness of this over-eight-minute song comes through immediately, sounding like some kind of anxiety-inducing horror film score, with strewn-about, disconcerting sax phrases laid over ominous strings. But it's not until about 70 seconds in when this thing really starts to take shape and adopts its illbient sound, with what I'm guessing is Ciccotelli's contribution: a killer, booming drum track. Now, almost every drum track—whether it be hip hop, trip hop, or illbient—is made with either a drum machine or some kind of software. But there's a certain crispness, clarity, and depth to a live recorded drum track that you just can't replicate with any kind of electronics, and I think Ciccotelli's playing on this tune proves my point here.

Once it enters, Ciccotelli's beat holds steady, which then allows Ellis to get all this pent-up experimental avantgardism out of his system. He starts with the sax, gets to keys and an organ, and then he starts unveiling sounds that leave me scratching my head as to what he even used to create them ��� Maybe he literally banged his noggin on some things and that's why this song is called what it is?

Me: "Okay, so what did you use to make *this* sound?”

Rob Ellis: "Yeah, that was my head"

Me: 😮

Either way, I tend not to vibe much towards illbient, because a lot of it's just too weird and cold for my tastes, but Ciccotelli's live drums here are too nice for me to ignore, and it allows me the opportunity to get out of my comfort zone and experience whatever the hell it is that PJ Harvey's producer is conjuring up behind him.

Spleen was really ~something else~.

By the way, another terrific trip hop track that uses live drums is Red Snapper's original demo of "4 Dead Monks," which appears on Warp Records' We Are Reasonable People compilation. Check it out if you dig this too 👍.

[ufokevin]

woo doohwan. 32. cis man. he/him, they/them. ┊┊ cerberus corp has been watching  KWON "HARVEY"JUNGHYUN.  some of the public has dubbed them RUBIX because of PROBABILITY MANIPULATION gifted by VENTRICULAR FIBRILLATION RELATED TO CAFFEINE AND ELOCTRUCTION AFTER PRESSING A DEFECTIVE BUZZER AT A JEOPARDY CONFERENCE. having been an extra ordinary since 2020, they’re doing a good job at hiding REFUSAL FOR PLAYING THEIR TRICKS/MENTAL EXHAUSTION/TEMPORARY LOSS OF EMOTION/THE MELODY OF CLOSING TIME BY SEMISONIC. when they aren’t working their day job as a CHURCH AND SYNAGOGUE LIBRARIAN, they are fond of PLAYING SCRABBLE WHILE WATCHING NOVA and are never seen without HIS PROMISE RING ON A NECKLACE. at first glance they seem ASTUTE & ELOQUENT, though their close friends know them to also be ARROGANT & VIOLENT.  they consider themself a VILLAIN. ┊┊

ESEN'S EX FINANCE CONNECTION

001.  GENERAL

name  Junghyun Harvey Kwon nicknames  Harvs, Har Har Harvey, Jungykins, Haryay, age  32 date of birth  january 11, 1990 zodiac  capricorn place of birth  chicago illnois current residence  queens new york gender  male pronouns  he/him, they/them* (mainly as rubix) sexuality pansexual occupation  chruch and synagigue librarian

faceclaim  woo dohwan height  6'3 tattoos  a small heart with the I love you Esen in Turkish on his chest piercings  navel piercing and n*pple piercing distinguishing features  Ambixterous in all activities positive traits  loyal, open-minded, creative , funloving, charismatic negative traits  impulsive, annoying, venegeful, insecure, hypocritical labels / tropes  g-rated stoner, brilliant but lazy, the wing man, the human calculator likes  sweets, chess, aglets, random fun facts, costumes from power rangers, nadira from power rangers, spicy lemon takis dislikes  unstimulating events, organizations (especially abc and cerb), betrayal, mediocrity fears  not having an impact, being in his fathers shadow hobbies online scrabble, online jeopardy, canoeing, habits  biting his sleeves, picking up a piece of paper and folding it repeatly, double dipping

002.  EXTRA ORDINARY

Near death experience: Harvey's winning jeopardy required him to do a little tour. He already had the money deposited so he wasn't in a position to say no. So being one of the first ones up for a panel. He was there asking question. A photographer asked for him to press the button and his heart stopped. He woke up in a morgue and found himself doing probabilities of getting out and stealing a security guards uniform. Since them he has legally been a man without a name.

Powers:

Power-Probability Manipulation- the power to manipulate probability might seem mundane at first sight. But Rubix likes to take it to the next level. He uses probability to his advantage by creating challenges for the heroes in questions from riddles to impossible board games with almost unreasonable constraints.

Rubix still believes he’s being fair stating the probability, timing, and a head start when he’s feeling generous.

Rubix likes the idea of probabilities because unlike most of his life, they give him some form of control. Even if it isn't garanteed, he believes it better than nothing. And datas is in valueable

Drawbacks/Vulnerabilities: Calculating Probabiliities don't always mean they come true. A person can also refuse to participate in his challenge. Finally after a probaility challenge he is emotionally and mentally exhausted. Closing time is a sentimental song because it reminds him of the times he heads home and sings off key with her. Finally certain substances such as weed make him extra sleepy.

Why he's a villian: It's one thing when your first love leaves you and you have to learn to accept that. It's another thing when Harvey learned that fame after his death was fleeting and his death was covered up. It made him feel out of control of his own existence. And if the big guys wanted him in the shadows, he'll give them a menace in the shadows. He pushes people in power in particular Cerb to show them he's here.

The first time he smiled is when he saw mysterious menace traumatize the bank workers. With a mask on face and a dark shimmer costume he became Rubix

Cerebrus Corp: They're tracking someone the problem is since he's dead there isnt a set identity. Their main lead is someone messing in elaborate buildings and distressed cerb agents he messes with

Codename: They chose rubix like the rubrix cube. 1) because its a common toy available so cerb couldn't narrow him down and 2) such a fun one

Extra:

He grew up a doctor's son and hence his issues

Was a nerd but also class clown

Former friend of Omars because of the incident that shall not be named

Esen's former finace how kinda still cares about her as a person but refuses to say that aloud because he doesnt want her to have a target on her back. Has the promise ring but like lies and says its his father's class ring

Was Jeopardy college week champion from 2019-2020 but his episodes were pulled because he died on tour and that would just open a ton of lawsuits

Did I mention he hates abc for basically almost wiping his accomplishments off the web , he really does

If he didn't have his nde he would probably be a congress librarian

when he uses his power he feels like he's something and eyes glow green cause probability powers

And yeah thats it for now

[zot3-flopped]

zayn is and always will be so much hotter and better than harry, harry was only put as the frontman in 1d bc he's white. if zayn had been given more spotlight than harry's ugly musty ass, he would've been so much more popular and everyone agrees (except harrie stans) 💀💀

Posting for comedy value only.

You think this is hot? 🤣

A pudgy faced stoner with an unkempt, grizzled beard?

Zayn actually had a better platform than Harry because he was the first to leave 1d. His team at RCA adored him with his label boss calling him 'an icon.' He was set up with Malay, the hottest producer around, and Pillowtalk was an enormous hit. The first red flag went up when Zayn refused to perform his number one single, but in 2017 he was still massive and released a collab with Taylor Swift. The spotlight shone brightly on him while Harry released a low key album of folk/indie songs and lagged way behind Zayn on Spotify.

2018, and it was time for hard work if the 1d members wanted to survive post band. Harry embarked on an eighty date world tour and proved he could sell out arenas because he is a phenomenal live performer, one of the best of his generation. Meanwhile, lazy, unreliable Zayn promised and cancelled appearances and live dates whilst doing daily pap walks with Gigi Hadid. The music industry started to distrust and mock him, and carried on doing so when he refused to make a single promo appearance for Icarus Falls.

Harry continued to make excellent music and to appear in public and perform it. Zayn retired to smoke weed on a farm, was convicted of a domestic violence offence, and last year was dropped by RCA and not picked up by another label. The industry has lost all respect for Zayn, whilst Harry just got nominated for six Grammys. Today, Zayn only has a few thousand angry fans left and is reduced to releasing covers.

[flyingbananasaur]

(CW for implied self-harm though i use no harsher words than that, and also a LOT of self-deprecation and discussion of thoughts that lead to self-harm)

(Also we're gonna get deep here because I'm emotional right now and this showed up on my dash at the (im)perfect time and we're entering Therapy On Main hours, final warning to back away, putting it behind a read-only for bonus points)

I was 17 years old when I planned on attempting a Very, Very, Very, Incredibly Indescribably Bad Idea on the night of my high school graduation.

At the time, I thought my life had nowhere to go. I was a person with no real friends, who was bullied mercilessly by students and teachers and strangers alike, who hated their body and their mind, and who had basically dissociated throughout all of high school. The only reason I was planning on waiting until That Day was specifically to spite my parents, a final "fuck you, I did what you wanted me to do, happy now?"

Needless to say, I did not. A long heartfelt speech inside of the video game that I sunk like, 2000 hours into that year got delivered to me again at the exact right time and after a night of sobbing I realized that maybe there was some kind of chance for me.

(images shamelessly stolen from a let's play, sue me)

That wasn't the only reason, of course. There was also my dog, I was the only one who took care of that little asshole, he needed me. He's been gone for many years now but I still owe a lot to him being needy and rambunctious.

Anyways, I don't just say all of this to give too much detail on main. I'm 27 now. I went off to college and met people who didn't know my cursed reputation from my hometown, I got to meet more varied folks from all walks of life, realized I wasn't some kind of freak for crushing on a childhood friend who was also my AGAB, hell I realized I wasn't even that gender at all. I met friends and had fun and bonded and stayed up stupidly late and walked across campus to a sketchy as hell pizza place that was open at 2am to cater to stoners. I made friends in the desperate battlefields of the Comp Sci lab the night before finals week. I went hiking to the top of a mountain with my roommates, and then the next day we crashed and played Street Fighter 2 for an entire day and just shot the shit and ordered a pizza and it was WONDERFUL.

I have some of the best friends in the world, both in real life and a lot of little queer people in my phone. And they all care about me and love me for me, whatever unknown alphabet soup labels I have going on and whatever name I'm using now. I moved like three hours away from my entire hometown and my incredibly toxic family and only have to see them for Christmas (and my parents have also realized that they need to work on themselves in order for me to not go full no-contact). I even have my own space that I can decorate without judgement! Look, I got a poster recently!

All of this to say, things do get better. Lorb knows I'm still in therapy and constantly struggling with my inner demons, and that fight ain't ending any time soon... but I'm still here, and I'm growing and improving and becoming prouder of who I am every day.

How old were you at the lowest point in your life? Reblog this and put it in the tags, plus your current age maybe. I'm trying to see something.

[1spy]

1994 | Beck - "Cyanide Breath Mint"

Beck's single and video for "Loser" had a seismic and immediate impact on the culture, but it didn't hit everyone the same way. For a lot of music critics I was reading at the time, the impact was a mile-wide and an inch deep. Beck was a one-hit wonder; a meme. A signifier of slacker culture whose laconic, absurdist imagery could now be redeployed in funny ads aimed at Gen X. In some respects, this was accurate. This was RUN-DMC and Aerosmith again. Beck's monster hit seemed to repackage Beastie Boys rap with classic rock tropes, mashing together thrift-store hipster nonsense in the verses with a monster chorus that sounded like a Rodney Dangerfield / Weird Al cowrite. The song was massive and influential. But disposable.

And because Beck's success was so sudden and silly, there was a swift and mean-spirited Beck-lash. After Kurt Cobain died, one critic mused that when he heard police were confirming a blonde musician in his 20s had committed suicide, he hoped it was Beck. He was the voice of a generation for slacker idiots, and it was a characterization he memorably rejected a 1994 cover story in Spin Magazine:

“I’ve always tried to get money to eat and pay my rent and shit, and it’s always been real hard for me,” he says, affecting a certain amount of B-boy swagger. “I’ve never had the money or time to slack.”

To people paying close attention, the dude writing dejected ballads about the string of low-paid jobs he'd endured in New York and LA couldn't be a one-hit wonder. For one thing, "Loser" wasn't even the best song on the album.

The best song on Mellow Gold was the gleeful amphetamine boogie, "Beercan." Or the psychedelic raver "Fuckin' With My Head". Or the droning, dooming stoner dirge, "Steal My Body Home." Or the whimsical, yet tender Father John Misty precursor, "Nitemare HIppy Girl."

Beck had too much to say to be limited to one hit. Indeed, in 1994 it felt like like there was a new Beck album or EP every time I went to the store. Me and my pals would go to CD Warehouse and there would magically appear a recently released Beck CD traded in by someone who was probably expecting another "Loser."

Thanks to a unique feature of his major label deal with DGC records, Beck was permitted to put out independent records on his own schedule without regard to whether they might interfere with his Mellow Gold album cycle. These records were DIY affairs that were not going to make it to the Buzz Bin. Beck put out three albums in 1994, and the other two were full of four-track noise jams and lo-fi dustbowl folk songs.

His first album of 1994, Stereopathetic Soulmanure, is sometimes unlistenable and sometimes pastoral (see, e.g., "Rowboat" and "Modesto"), but it's also where you'll find one of his best early songs, "Satan Gave Me a Taco." "One Foot in the Grave" was his third album of 1994, and it was my favorite of the three. It might be my favorite album of his, period (although some days it's Sea Change and some days it's Midnite Vultures).

Listening to One Foot in the Grave, the Beck who rejected the slacker label and who lived paycheck to meager paycheck comes into focus. Beck wasn't trying to get on the radio with slick rap/rock confections. He was deconstructing depression-era protest songs using stream-of-conscious imagery reported from early 90s East LA. He was getting high, riding a lawn mower through a Hieronymus Bosch landscape of capitalist atrocities. The album was recorded, and in some cases cowritten, by K Records impresario and indie rock icon Calvin Johnson, with guest appearances by members of Built to Spill and Presidents of the United States of America (!!). It's sparely and simply presented with a focus on the vocal arrangements and unadorned instruments. It includes at least three interpolations of old blues and gospel standards. The shoestring slide guitar, haphazard harmonica, and shoe-stomp percussion make it sound like it's from another time. And that is the point.

Beck's lyrics on the album (and much of his early work) are about skewering modern life and all the store-bought things and sideshow busywork that make it unbearable. My favorite song, "Cyanide Breath Mint," is a dead-serious call to reject all the things we have to do to make ourselves safe and marketable. It's a song for people born out of time; for whom the mid-90s was, "definitely...the wrong place to be." On "Cyanide Breath Mint," Beck is preaching resistance to corporate messaging and fever pitch consumerism, insisting "there's nothing to tell you / there's nothing to sell you." Unbelievably, he also predicts our national horror of forever chemicals in a throwaway aside: "I got a funny feeling / they got plastic in the afterlife."

I'm not sure which song has my favorite lyrics of all time. It's either this song or Camper van Beethoven's "All Her Favorite Fruit." But I sing the ending verse of "Cyanide Breath Mint" to myself once a week at least. I don't really pray, but sometimes think about this song, and whether I'm on right path. Whether any of us are. A great song can do that without even trying. But Beck was. Trying, I mean.

Fave lyrics:

When they want you to cry Leap into the sky When they suck your mind Like a pigeon you'll fly I know, I know It's the positive people Running from their time Looking for some feeling

[beardedmrbean]

Atlanta Rapper Young Thug, whose legal name is Jeffrey Lamar Williams, has accepted a plea deal, changing his plea to guilty on gang-related charges in Fulton County, Georgia.

Williams pleaded guilty in court on Thursday afternoon.

He was sentenced to time served and 15 years of probation and is expected to be released on house arrest Thursday.

"Is it your decision to waive these rights and enter a guilty plea because you are in fact guilty?" Superior Court of Fulton County Judge Paige Reese Whitaker asked.

"Yes," Williams said before his attorney interjected on one of the counts.

According to an ABC affiliate in Atlanta, WSB-TV, which was in the courtroom on Thursday, the rapper's plea deal is non-negotiated, which means the final decision on sentencing is up to the judge.

He pleaded nolo contendere to two charges, including violation of the RICO act, which is a plea of no contest or no defense, meaning the defendant neither admits nor denies the charges against them, WSB-TV reported.

Williams' attorney Brian Steel, his co-counsel and Williams' father spoke outside of the courthouse after the hearing. Steel said that this was not the verdict he had wanted but that "it is justice for Jeffrey Williams, and he is delighted as are we, I'm thankful."

Jeffrey Williams Sr. also addressed his son's plea deal, saying, "I feel great that he's going home, but at the same token, I still wanted him to fight but that's his decision. That's his decision. You know?"

hich is home to Young Thug's YSL Records

"On God, Words can’t express the incredible happiness and relief I feel to learn of Jeffery���s freedom," Kevin Liles, the CEO of 300 Entertainment, the home of Williams' Young Stoner Life label, said in a statement Thursday evening.

"There will be a time to discuss the criminalization of hip-hop lyrics and the use of bond denial as a weapon against defendants, but in this moment everyone should feel nothing but joy that this amazing artist and even better man can hug his children, parents, siblings, and other loved ones tonight," Liles continued.

Williams was initially charged on May 10, 2022, with one count each of conspiring to violate the state's Racketeer Influenced and Corrupt Organizations (RICO) Act and participating in criminal street gang activity, and was later charged with an additional count of participating in street gang activity, three counts of violating the Georgia controlled substances act, possession of a firearm while committing a felony and possession of a machine gun.

Before the plea deal was struck, Williams had pled not guilty and his attorney had repeatedly told ABC News that his client was innocent of all charges.

Throughout the racketeering trial, which began in November 2023 and has been the longest-running trial in Georgia so far, prosecutors alleged that the Grammy-winning rapper is a co-founder and "proclaimed leader" of an alleged criminal street gang in Fulton County, Georgia, known as "Young Slime Life" or "YSL."

"The members and associates of YSL they moved like a pack with Jeffrey Williams as its head," Fulton County Deputy District Attorney Adriane Love alleged during opening statements.

Love claimed that the alleged members of YSL committed "criminal street gang activity -- that is crimes that were intended to further the purpose and advance the directives of YSL itself."

"For 10 years and counting, the group calling itself Young Slime Life dominated the Cleveland Avenue community of Fulton County," Love said on Monday. "And created a crater in the middle of Fulton County's Cleveland Avenue community, that sucked in the youth, the innocence and even the lives of some of his youngest members."

The Grammy-winning rapper was charged in May 2022 in a sweeping RICO indictment in Fulton County, Georgia. He was among 28 individuals charged but stood trial with five co-defendants after many of those indicted took plea deals, while the judge ruled that others will be tried separately.

The rapper's star power drew nationwide attention to this case and the prosecutor's controversial use of his lyrics, as well as lyrics performed by some of his defendants, as alleged evidence in this case further propelled it to the national spotlight.

The use of lyrics sparked outrage from freedom of speech advocates and prominent musicians and producers in the hip-hop world, who argued that rap music and the writing process is a form of artistic expression and not necessarily a reflection of reality.

Prosecutors argued in the indictment that social media postings, images and various song lyrics released by several defendants, including Young Thug, are "overt acts in furtherance of the conspiracy" to violate the RICO Act.

Although the scope of the indictment went far beyond the use of rap lyrics, the inclusion of lyrics prompted outrage from artists across the music industry and helped spark a movement that came to be known as "Protect Black Art."

Steel filed a motion in December 2022 asking Judge Ural Glanville, who was removed from the case after meeting with a witness and prosecutors, to stop prosecutors from using lyrics as evidence.

Steel argued that "[Lyrics] cannot be used as evidence of crime if they are simply connected to music/freedom of expression/freedom of speech/poetry."

Glanville denied the motion in a November 2022 ruling, where he determined that 17 sets of lyrics mentioned in the indictment could be preliminarily admitted in the trial.

"I'm conditionally admitting those pending lyrics, depending upon – or subject to a foundation that is properly laid by the state or the proponent that seeks to admit that evidence," Glanville said.

The judge added that if prosecutors intend to include additional lyrics as part of the alleged evidence in this case, they can be submitted for the judge's review.

[cowboylikedean]

13 songs which remind you of Sweetheart?

oh anon, you've hit my favorite topic on the nail! thank you for asking!!

So these are in no particular order, but numbered so I can keep track of them:

this love - cause he came back

aotgylb - because I'm a petty bitch

sotb - "weird but fucking beautiful" is the realest

peer pressure by james bay - I'D GIVE IN TO HIS!!! like forever.

it starts with sorry from hazbin hotel - the good part of our story started with sorry!! and also hh is his thing

so high school - only other time I've felt true genuine romantic feelings was high school so I feel all the giggly things taylor was talking about with travis, but for me it's like actually literal to high school

the alchemy - WHERE;S THE TROPHY HE JUST COMES RUNNIN OVER TO ME

at all costs from the wish - he is truly the most precious thing i've ever seen and there is no end to what I would do to protect him and fight for him

magical by ed sheeran - this is the first time I've ever been in love like this and so the question "is this how it feels to be in love" is really literal.

high as fuck by jon lajoie - my little stoner babe <3333

i love you always forever - the day we labeled, i put on my sweetheart playlist as we drove to my house and this song came on and he was like swoony and said that was so sweet and then the next day on his way to work, this song was the first thing his shuffle played on his whole library.

daylight - I've been sleeping so long in a 20 year dark night

under your spell from omwf - buffy is a really important thing to us and this gayest of sweet love songs is really it

this was so hard to just pick 13 kadsjfl sooo honorable mentions: drees, ciwyw, yail, nonsense, solid by muna, seeing blind, i could not ask for more, karma, and better by syml