#head cleaner cassette

[twobitcathedral]

[moderntechniques-blog]

Found this in the attic today

[usnatarchives]

The Audio-Video (A/V) Preservation Lab at the National Archives 📼

The Audio-Video (A/V) Preservation Lab provides appropriate digital products for National Archives and Records Administration (NARA) audio and video collections.

Join us to learn a little bit more about our work in this thread for #AskAConservator! 🧵📼

Audio and video records arrive to the lab to be digitized for preservation and access. One of the formats that we see most frequently is 1/4” audio. Sometimes we need to splice leader onto the heads or tails of a 1/4” reel in order to capture all of the content.

This is what audio looks like once it has been digitized for preservation. Sometimes we bake tapes before playback to reverse the effects of sticky shed or soft binder syndrome. We also work on newer formats like miniDiscs which were popular during the late 1990s and early 2000s.

When we digitize a videotape we use additional tools like test signals, time-base correctors, waveforms and vectorscopes to ensure that the color and brightness levels are correct.

One of the formats that we digitize regularly is VHS video. We have seen these tapes range in run time from as little as 2 minutes to as long as 9 hours!

Sometimes we need to rehouse videotapes into new cassettes in order to successfully play them back. Typically we clean tapes before we play them back as well. Here are a couple images of one of our Umatic or 3/4-inch cleaners.

Thank you for your interest in the Audio-Video Preservation Lab at NARA! We hope you enjoyed learning a bit more about the work that we do!

https://www.archives.gov/pres…/products/definitions/av-lab

[corroded-hellfire]

hey! may i request an eddie x y/n sort of based on some scenes of makeup? like, when they act all lovey dovey? because i was just watching some and i got SO jealous.

My deepest apologies that this took me forever! I tried to make the scenes cute and fit into the ST world and I did the arduous task of watching JQ’s scenes and seeing him shirtless so much for inspiration. I think we can all agree Tom deserves better than Roof and Eddie deserves all our love. I hope you enjoy 🩵

Warnings: oral sex, m receiving (Eddie gets off, cause reader gives better head than Ruth), other sexual allusions, alcohol consumption

Words: 3.9k

Being apart from Eddie is the worst part about college. You’d gotten to see your boyfriend over Thanksgiving and Christmas break, but it’s never enough. Talking on the phone is great, but it’s not the same. The two of you have been counting down the days until spring break rolls around. Since you’d last been in Hawkins, Eddie had gotten an apartment and both of you were very eager to have a place all to yourselves for the whole week. 

Unfortunately, Eddie still has to work while you’re visiting, but staying with him still guarantees you get to see him every moment that you can. He’s at work the day you arrive, and he felt horrible that he couldn’t come and get you at the airport. You assured him you’d rather have him keep his job and wait a few hours to see him. He promises to keep the apartment door unlocked and you happily let yourself in once the taxi drops you off. 

You grin to yourself as you step inside. It’s a very Eddie apartment. Sweetheart is parked right next to the couch, and you can picture Eddie scooping it up and strumming the strings as soon as he gets home. The three chairs at the small kitchen table are mismatched, all of them different colors than the brown wooden surface. You bring your bags into Eddie’s room and set them down near his closet. Even before you take in the small space, you open your boyfriend’s closet and pull out the first hoodie you see. It smells like weed and Irish spring soap, bringing an automatic smile to your face. The smell of Eddie is your favorite in the world, and you make a mental note to ask if you can take this hoodie back to school with you. 

As you slip the sweatshirt on, you turn to look around the bedroom. The bed isn’t made, but the brown comforter has been thrown over the sheets to look somewhat neat. It’s cleaner than you’d thought it would be, no clothes thrown into piles on the floor or no piles of cassettes in the corner. Maybe Eddie cleaned up before you got here—but you wouldn’t count on it. He knows he doesn’t have to do anything to impress you. 

With a chuckle, you fling yourself onto the bed and revel in being surrounded by so much Eddie. His blankets, his pillows, his hoodie. You curl up on your side and bury your face in his pillow. Before you know it the sound of the front door opening wakes you up. The flight must’ve made you more tired than you thought. 

“Babe?”

Eddie’s voice has you sitting up in bed. He pokes his head in the doorway and both of your faces light up in matching grins. 

“Eddie!”

Without hesitation, he leaps on top of you, not bothering to shed himself of his dusty blue coveralls before attacking your face with kisses. His hair tickles you as his lips roam around your skin and you let out a peal of laughter.

“How was your flight?” Eddie mumbles against the skin just below your ear. 

“Good,” you say, letting your eyes slip closed. “But this is much better.”

It feels like as quickly as Eddie was on you, he’s climbing off just as fast. You pout up at him until you realize he’s stripping himself not only of his coveralls, but his clothes beneath as well. 

“Can I make it even better?” Eddie asks with a wink.

Smirking, you unbutton your jeans and shimmy them down your hips. “Get over here.”

The sun wakes you up the next morning, shining through the blinds to the left of Eddie’s bed. The rays warm your face as you stretch your muscles that are stiff from sleep. A lazy smile graces your features as you blink your eyes open and take in the sleeping man next to you. His unruly curls are splayed out on his pillowcase and his mouth is slightly agape as his bare chest moves up and down. 

Moving slowly, you turn on your right side to face him. Eddie’s enviably long eyelashes brush his high cheekbones, and a light stubble coats his jaw. Your eyes rake down the slope of his nose and study his plump lips and pinched pink Cupid’s bow. 

As if your gaze physically weighed on him, Eddie’s body shifts and he lets out a soft groan. His eyes crack open, and he blinks a few times before he turns his head and meets your stare. A warm smile grows on Eddie’s face, and he brings up a hand to rub at his right eye.

“Hi,” he mumbles, voice still groggy from sleep. 

“Hi,” you echo.

Eddie turns his head back upright and breathes out a long yawn. 

Feeling mischievous and giddy after waking up next to your love, you decide to imitate Eddie and see how long it takes him to notice. He suspects nothing when you yawn after him. But when he groans as he shifts his position and you copy the intonations exactly, he glances over at you with a raised eyebrow.

“You copying me?” he asks.

“You copying me?” you say, doing your best to keep your giggles inside.

Eddie chuckles and shakes his head. “What a dork.”

“What a dork.”

“Alright, you,” Eddie says, rolling over on top of you with a smirk.

“Alright you—” Eddie cuts you off with a kiss and you finally let out your laughter against his lips as you wrap your arms around his neck. 

“I swear, the arcade is much more fun when you don’t have to fight the annoying high schoolers for the machines,” Eddie says as he parks the van in the closest parking spot to Palace Arcade’s front door.

“We were annoying high schoolers last year,” you remind him as you unbuckle your seatbelt.

“Nah, we were cooler,” he tells you with a wink. 

Hawkins High School doesn’t have their spring break until next week, so you and Eddie would most likely have free range of all the arcade games in the few hours before he has to head into work. 

“Are you here more often now that Lucas works here?” you ask as you both hop out of the van.

“Yeah,” Eddie says as he slings his arm over your shoulders. “Need something to do when I’m not working or having phone sex with you.”

Face heating up, you playfully shove his arm off of you, making him laugh. You push open the arcade door and the bell above it jingles as Eddie steps in behind you. He steps away from your side and peeks into the back room, giving a small wave to the only employee working in the arcade on a Monday morning. Once the acne ridden man goes back to whatever he was doing before you walked in, Eddie silently jumps over the counter and grabs a bag of tokens from underneath it. He gently places the bag down so it doesn’t clink when he jumps back over the other way.

“And where’d you learn that?” you ask quietly as Eddie struts back over to you, tossing the small bag up in the air and catching it.

“Sinclair is still indebted to his DM,” he says with a shrug. 

“You mean he’s afraid you’ll blab all his secrets to Erica?”

“Exactly.”

Rolling your eyes, you turn towards a pinball machine and Eddie comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and dumping a few coins out on the glass. You pinch one between your fingers and slip it into the coin slot. Eddie presses quick kisses against your shoulder as the game whirs to life and moves his lips up to your neck as your fingers begin to work the buttons on the sides of the machine. Letting out a squeal, you try to shrug him off as he distracts you.

“Eddie!”

“Whaaaat?” he mumbles against your skin, moving his kisses back down to your shoulder again. 

“You’re gonna make me lose,” you pout.

“Uh uh,” Eddie says, squeezing your hips in his hands. “I’m helping you.”

He presses your body up against the machine, caught between it and his warm body against your back. 

“Yeah, some help,” you say as your fingers press into the buttons.

“I know. What would you do without me?” he muses.

That’s how the next couple of hours go—you attempting to play games and Eddie “helping” you. Both of you know the best part is his body being so close to yours, though. But you’ll let him think that he’s the reason you lost at Ms. Pac-Man.

Laying in Eddie’s bed, you watch through the open bedroom door as he crunches on a bowl of Raisin Bran, occasionally slurping some milk. Yesterday, Eddie had the day off and it was wonderful. The two of you spent most of the day in bed and ordered pizza from the best pizzeria in Hawkins. It almost makes it harder to watch him get ready for work today. He’s freshly showered with his wet curls tucked up in a bun at the base of his neck—which you’d assisted him with. His coveralls are clean of dirt and oil, the only mess spoiling the clean jumpsuit the droplets of milk that have leaked down the side of his mouth. 

Eddie downs the leftover milk in the bowl and places it in the sink with a small clank. He strides back towards the bedroom and wipes his mouth off on the back of his hand. As soon as his black boots cross the threshold into the room, you whine and make grabby hands for your boyfriend. 

“What, my love?” Eddie asks as he rests one knee on the bed so he can hover over your lying figure.

“You’re cute,” you say as you stare up into his chocolate eyes. Eddie chuckles and takes your face in between his two hands and presses a few quick kisses to your lips. When he goes to pull away, you wrap your arms around his neck and let out another whine. “Don’t go.”

As Eddie sits up, he pulls your body up with him. He sighs as you bury your head in his neck.

“I can’t stay, baby.” His heart cracks when you whimper against his skin. Your arms slip down his body and Eddie manages to take your face in his hands again. “Come on. I gotta go.” He presses a few more kisses to your lips and stands up, forcing your arms to fall back into your lap. “I’ll see you later, baby. I love you.”

Leaning forward, you watch him for as long as you can until he walks out the front door. Sighing, you drop back against the pillows and tug the blanket up to your chin again. 

The sound of Eddie clanging and scraping in the kitchen surrounds you as you slump against the kitchen table, your fist the only thing propping your head up. You’d made the mistake of going to see your parents today and it had gone even worse than you imagined it would. Eddie coming home from work helped improve your mood a bit, but you’re still sour as he finishes fixing dinner. 

A plate of spaghetti is placed down in front of you, a slice of white bread tucked in next to it on the plate. Eddie plops down in the seat across from you as you pick up your fork. The spaghetti wraps around your fork as you twirl it again and again, never bringing it up to your mouth. Big brown eyes watch you as you stare blankly at your plate. 

“Do you wanna talk about it, sweetheart?” 

You shake your head, eyes not lifting from your food. Eddie lets out a silent sigh as he scoops his spaghetti onto his piece of bread.

“Wanna talk about something else?” he asks before shoving a bite of his pasta sandwich into his mouth. Your eyes finally raise and meet his, causing him to give you a smile. Sauce coats his fingertips so he sets the sandwich down and sucks on each of them. 

“No,” you say softly. 

Eddie picks up a napkin and wipes his hands clean as he looks around the room. His eyes catch on the radio sitting on the counter and he pushes himself out of his chair to turn it on. The dial is set on his preferred metal station, but the badass guitar solo doesn’t set the mood for what he’s trying to achieve. Static floats through the kitchen as Eddie turns the knob, searching for a suitable solution. A soft rock ballad soars from the speakers and Eddie gives the radio a thumbs up, as if it was his wingman on this mission. 

Bouncing on the balls of his socked feet, Eddie bobs over to you and offers his hand with a gallant bow.

“M’lady?”

Even though a small smile cracks through your demeanor, you shake your head at him. Eddie pouts and stands back upright. Starting to shimmy his shoulders, he walks around the small table until he’s in your direct line of sight. He begins to rock his hips back and forth, and while it really has no rhythm to it, it’s still oddly sexy. 

Amusement lights up your eyes as you watch him, raising his arms to the sides and adding them to his shimmies. Suddenly, he yanks his chair out from the table and hops onto it, extending his hand down to you.

“Dance with me, baby.” Again, you shake your head. But this time, Eddie has a little more hope, as it’s very obvious you’re biting back a smile. “Come on!”

With the stability of Bambi on ice, Eddie hops down from the chair and saunters over to your side of the table. He holds his hands behind his back and bends down at the waist to kiss at your neck. Your grin breaks free at the feeling of his lips on your skin. 

“C’mon,” he mumbles and he’s suddenly tugging you up by your hands. It elicits a giggle from you, and you laugh even harder as he wraps one arm around your waist, the other taking your hand in his, and rocks your body from side to side along with his own. 

A sudden surge of emotions crashes over your body. All the love and safety Eddie fills you with overwhelms you, causing tears to prickle the back of your eyes. Eddie’s presence within itself is a comfort that you will never take for granted. The urge to hold him as close as you possibly can is too strong to ignore. Slipping your hand out of his, you snake your arms around his lithe waist and bury your face into his chest. There’s only a moment of hesitation on Eddie’s part—afraid he’s done something to upset you, before he wraps you up in his arms and holds you safe and sound in his embrace. 

Even though the front door isn’t locked, it takes you three attempts to turn the handle and stumble inside. Eddie raises an eyebrow from where he lounges on the couch, his sock-covered feet up on the coffee table in front of him. Your giggles amuse him as you drop your purse near his work boots and slip out of your own shoes. 

“Have fun with Robin?” Eddie asks, watching you sway your hips as you walk over to him. Luckily, Robin only lived in the neighborhood down the road from Eddie’s apartment complex, so there was no driving after you and your friend partook in some cheap liquor. 

“I did!” you say, a giddy grin on your face. Eddie holds his hand out as you get closer, assuming you’re going to plop down on the couch next to him. But you drop to your knees between the couch and coffee table, making Eddie frown in worry and sit up straight.

“You okay, baby?”

“Yeah,” you say with a snort of laughter. “Meant to do this.” He would’ve thought you were just trying to cover up a tipsy misstep, but the way you run your hands up his thighs and start to attack his belt buckle makes him realize that you did mean to get down on your knees. 

“What’s gotten into you?” Eddie asks, lifting his hips when you try and tug his pants down.

You focus on getting his black jeans pushed down to his knees before you look up at him and answer. “Robin and I were talking about our sex lives.” Eddie watches as you stand up and whip your shirt off over your head. It falls somewhere behind you before you get back down on your knees. “Kept talking about how good you make me feel and all I wanted was to get home and make you feel good.”

“Yeah?” Eddie asks, a groan tumbling from his lips as you ghost your fingers over his boxer-clad dick. 

“Yeah,” you answer as you hook your fingers in the waistband of his underwear. “Wanna suck your cock, baby.”

“Shit,” Eddie hisses as you finally wrap your soft hand around him. 

“Feel good?” you ask, looking up at your boyfriend from beneath your eyelashes.

“So fucking good.”

“Good,” you say with a giggle before leaning down and licking a stripe up the underside of his cock.

Eddie throws his head back and grabs onto the arm of the couch next to him, just so he has something to hold on to. Mumbles of fuck, fuck, fuck fall from his lips as you give the head a few kitten licks. When you finally take him into your mouth, Eddie has to fight the urge to buck his hips up into your mouth. He knows you can take it, but he also knows you’re just getting started. 

You swirl your tongue around the tip, pressing your tongue flat against his leaking slit. Pretty moans come from above you as you sink down, taking more of him into your mouth. Saliva drips down his length and you use it to work your hand over what you can’t fit in your mouth. 

“Fuck, baby,” Eddie groans. “You always suck my cock so good. Love this pretty little mouth.”

Now it’s your turn to moan, the sound causing delicious vibrations around his dick.

You pull off just to mumble, “Love your cock,” before you’re taking him back into your mouth, letting him go deeper than before. Eddie’s eyes are half-lidded in pleasure as he watches you bob your head up and down. The way his dick disappears in between your pretty lips has him feeling like he’s ready to burst. So when the tip of his cock brushes against the back of your throat, Eddie’s seeing stars dance in his vision. 

He wants to hold out so badly, the feeling and image of you sucking him off too good to end already, but he feels his thigh muscles start to tense as he gets closer. Feeling the tightness under Eddie’s skin where your hand rests on his upper thigh, you can also tell he’s getting close. Wanting to make it as good for him as possible, you hold off your gag reflex as best as you can and take him into your throat.

“Jesus Christ, baby. Holy fucking shit.” Eddie’s hands are scrambling for something to hold on to and he settles for running his hands over his own hair.

Tears are sliding down your face, surely wrecking your meticulously applied makeup. On one bob of your head, your gag reflex decides to make itself known and you choke on Eddie’s cock. The sound pushes the man over the edge, his eyes practically rolling back in his head.

“Sweetheart, I’m gonna—fuck, where do you...?”

Your hand taps his leg, letting him know you want him to finish in your mouth. 

“Oh, fuck,” Eddie grunts. “I’m—I’m coming, fuck, shit, I’m coming!”

Both your mouth and your hand work him through it, and you swallow every last drop you’re able to milk from him. When he’s finally spent, you pull off of him and sit back on your heels. The room is full of the sounds of heavy breathing as the two of you try to catch your breath. The television is long forgotten background noise to the pair of you. 

A lazy smile lights up Eddie’s beautiful face and he leans down to pull you up onto the couch with him. He tucks himself back into his jeans as you settle yourself next to him. Once his clothing is fully situated, he tugs you closer until your head is resting in his lap. Still only in your bra on top, Eddie figures you might be cold, so he grabs the blanket hanging on the back of the couch and drapes it over your torso and shoulders.

“That was incredible, princess,” Eddie says, gently stroking the hair on the crown of your head. “Gonna have to let me make that up to you.”

“No need,” you slur against his pant leg, now more from tiredness than alcohol. “Just wanted to make my man feel good.”

“You made me feel insanely good,” Eddie tells you. “And I like making you feel good, too. Maybe tomorrow once you’re not so tired, yeah?”

“M’kay,” you say, and Eddie can tell you’re already half asleep. He chuckles to himself and leans down to press a kiss to your temple. 

“I love you so fucking much.”

The last dinner you have with Eddie before going back to school is bittersweet. Your boyfriend watches you over the rim of his glass while you take a sip out of your own. He tries to get playful with you to cheer you up, copying your movements as you pick up your fork and stab some pasta, then lowering it back down when you notice his behavior. It’s clear you’re not in the mood to joke, so Eddie drops the act and lets out a sigh. 

“Sweetheart,” he says. “You have to go back to school. And it’s okay, summer isn’t too far away.”

“Don’t wanna leave you,” you mumble in reply. 

The clinking of silverware startles you, and you look up to see Eddie has dropped his fork and is reaching across the table for your hand. Happily, you give it to him, and he laces your fingers together.

“You’re not leaving me. You’re going back to school to study what you love. And in less than two months, you’ll be back here in Hawkins, and we’ll have three whole months together. You’re gonna get sick of me.”

“Never,” you interject.

“Okay, well we can test that theory over the summer,” Eddie says with a playful smile. “But I promise, the rest of the semester will go by quicker than you think.”

You tug your hand out of Eddie’s and he frowns at you before realizing you’re walking around the table to sit in his lap. He gladly slips his arms around your waist and hugs your body close against his. 

“I love you so much, Eddie Munson.”

He gazes up at you with the most adoring eyes, his thumbs gently stroking along your t-shirt. 

“I don’t blame you. Who else can whip up gourmet spaghetti dinner and look this good doing it?”

You snort and press a hand against Eddie’s chest. He laughs and cups the back of your neck, leaning up to press his lips against yours. “I love you too, baby.”

[fvckhxpe]

scenes from a mixtape

(originally published in Juked magazine, January 2007)

I slide the mixtape into the stereo and press play.  She takes off her low-cut socks and throws them at me, humming along to the Gin Blossoms.  The loneliness leaks from me in slow drips until it disappears.

She thinks I'm crazy and she loves me.  Two of the same and we're poisoning each other, unhealthy decomposition losing its heartbeat.  Talking, together, copulating, her arms circling a torso, any waistline, but now it's mine.  Anyone would do, as long as they're bent/broken, so she and I continue on borrowed time.  And love comes in waves, small packages, coffins, a gesture, the way she mixes her fingers into mine when she grabs for my hand.  I know her well.  Sweet when tongues taste her, she's reminiscent of an old flower, the small yellow blossoms mothers teach children to behead and suck from the bottom, all the honeysuckle, a strange taste.  There must be a mathematical theory for her body, from the curve of her ass up to her perfect neck—her lips that are shamans when she speaks in the low-pitched rasp that soothes and shakes everything.  And to be there as she exists, to hear her sing in the shower, to watch her stir sugar into her coffee.  To feel tense, waiting for her to yell over:

      "Your goddamn typing is driving me crazy!"

And I keep pounding intricate diagonals of confessional bullshit (c-o-n-f-e-s-s-i-o-n-a-l SPACE b-u-l-l-s-h-i-t).  Up from the typewriter at the kitchen table, spying her form hanging in the doorframe of the bathroom, pouring drain cleaner into the sink.  Long looks across the room—we're fifteen feet apart and we miss each other.  We're killing each other.  She's walking to the bed.  I'm still typing.  "New Day Rising" kicks in quiet on the stereo—a barely audible gurgling, complete with tape hissssss.  I count one thousand and twenty-six words and I've got nothing more to say, but I don't want to stop.  I type ellipses . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . until she calls over to me.

      "Your goddamn typing is driving me crazy!"

The tape pops and the tape's over, a loss of lo-fi noise, the songs slept to in younger years, the songs of the local college radio, the alternative, the rock and grunge and post-rock and post-grunge—flipping the cassette over and readying it for side two—play—and the buzzing starts, crackling from the dust and age of the carbon.  I remember the tape, I remember not having the money for a proper blank one, so it reads as a collection of Christmas traditionals erased over, small wads of paper still jammed in the top to fool the tape deck 'record' button.

      "Today is the greatest day I've ever known, can't wait for tomorrooooow . . ."

      She remembers this song, she sings along.  I leave the typewriter for her, I abandon and slither under the covers.  We sing the song together.

She's a knife cutting into me, in a way I won't comprehend until the pain is no longer there.  Long stretches of nothingness with her head on my chest, waiting for the sun to rise.  Early:  she doesn't inhale, she lets air come to her.  She stands on the heels of her feet, leaning into it, smiling with her eyes closed as if waking up is an endless pit into which she falls.  She lets her chest extend out and she yaaaaaaaaaawns and falls back to the mattress.

      "Do you think McDonald's is still serving breakfast?"

      The clock reads seven twenty-four a.m.

      "Is it really that early?"

      Seven twenty-five a.m.

      "I'm going back to sleep."

It goes wrong somewhere deep and patterned, the way she would run her thumb along the paper of a thick book she was thinking of buying as we stood in the downtown bookstore, the pages fluttering in a blow.  She and I, we had built swift and perfect on the downhill and were imploding like a dying sun with nothing more than a sliver of why it had all started.  It becomes open range barbwire and we never stop running, and when a love like that catches your skin, it shreds you and you bleed out right there, exactly where you fall.  We feel our timeline freefall:  I'm ordered to get a job; she stares in disgust at the typewriter; I spend more time at the labor office.  The air between us is white noise, bottoming out with frost as a blanket.  We're numb.  And one night Hüsker Dü kicks in on the tape deck and we're sitting on opposite sides of the apartment—not out of anger, simply necessity.  Neither of us sings along, and she stops telling me my goddamn typing is driving her crazy.

Days pass and I miss them, right past me, forgetting the clock, forgetting the shades are down.  I hardly sleep, the dreams aren't pleasant.  I sit at the edge of the mattress most nights; she sleeps through the sound of creaking boxsprings.  We keep on, the borrowed time decays.  And one day while I'm downtown pawning videos and selling blood for rent money, she realizes we're tearing each other apart with our separate young madnesses, and there's no disappearing act like the one that leaves me wondering how she took all her things in one trip.  We fall from orbit and burn up on reentry.  She leaves, things devolve, become simpler.  And the loneliness crawls back inside my stomach and drills into my spine.  It stays.  She's found a new waistline for her arms.

And I make a new mixtape.

[decepti-thots]

for the headcanon ask: cassettes and boomboxes as family relations, and/or fanon mechpreg mechanic of your choice?

Pass on the mechpreg one.

Cassette/boombox headcanon: this is really dependent on continuity, actually! For something like cartoon G1 where you have these very humanlike dynamics going on for a lot of the cast and it's lighthearted, solid 🙂, I think it's very fun (albeit I would rather it not be taken too literally). I enjoy Rumble and Frenzy as Soundwave's shitty adult "sons" causing havoc a lot. That's great. Other continuities I'm a lot more neutral on it because it just doesn't fit so well- it makes like, zero sense in IDW1, for example, that's just people transplanting stuff to a setting that has zero accomodation for it at the expense of more interesting character dynamics. Or in Aligned stuff, where you certainly have some kind of implied symbiotic thing going on, but there's not really the right tone to try and pitch that as some loose "parent" or even "caretaker" vibe. But in G1 goofier stuff it's very enjoyable to me.

Mildly related tangent: the term 'carrier' for this cassette-tapedeck dynamic is often thought to be like trine, i.e. it has no canon usage and is pure fanon despite being so overwhelmingly widespread in certain circles people assume otherwise. But I recently realised that in fact, I know of one possible canon usage of a term like that, but I need to find out if the term is actually comparable in the original Japanese. The commonly used English translation for Glit's bio says:

"He does periodic check-ups on the internal functions of his carrier…" (Relating to Glit being a tape head cleaner!)

But I need to get someone who reads Japanese to take a look and see if this is actually a fair 1:1 translation, or if e.g. it's possible the fan translating this picked a pre-existing fanon term out of personal bias despite it not being the actual word. IDK. It would be interesting to know if this is a "very technically obscure canon" moment like seeker was.

[drill-teeth-art]

From One Mask To Another

Soundwave and Mixmaster share a drink in a private meeting spot.

Content Warnings: None that I can think of, but feel free to let me know if I should add something here!

Note: Soundwave uses it/its pronouns in this. Scene under the cut !

“Y-y-you’re late,” Mixmaster said, leaning casually on the doorframe to storage room number 35-b. It was where the Constructicons kept excess materials that usually ended up dumped in his drum to be reworked. So only he really had any reason to be there. “Reason: Irrelevant,” Soundwave responded, running a quick check of the camera feeds around the storage wing. Mixmaster shrugged. “I wasn’t asking. J-just…observing.” He tilted his head slightly and looked off down one of the hallways, his lips curled into a small smirk. “Hook is in 78-c g-g-getting some corrosion resistant gloves. We sh-should duck inside. And keep quiet.” “Affirmative,” Soundwave confirmed Mixmaster’s statement with a quick peek into that hall on the camera feed, nodded slowly, and followed Mixmaster into the storage unit, shutting the door quietly behind itself. It didn’t inquire about Hook or the gloves. None of its business, and Mixmaster wasn’t the type to share excess information easily anyway. Soundwave watched as Mixmaster sat down and leaned against the wall. Soundwave noted the bit of hesitation as he sat which was new. It seemed a pain in his hip was bugging him, but Soundwave simply joined the Constructicon on the floor, Mixmaster taking note of the replacement mask Soundwave was wearing as it did. It was brand new. He could tell. It was lacking in all the scrapes and scuffs of the old one. But Mixmaster didn’t pry, simply offering Soundwave a cube of energon. “S-s-same as last time. Except I added a c-citrus flavor to it. Earth flavor,” Mixmaster said, smiling softly when Soundwave accepted the cube. “Appreciated,” Soundwave replied, turning away as it opened its mask to take a sip. Mixmaster turned his gaze away, not daring to peek at the tapedeck while it drank. Clearly it didn’t want him to. It never wanted him to. And to do so would violate the wonderful thing they had going on together. Meeting up for drinks and fooling around. No follow up questions allowed, though neither of them dared to say that part. “Assessment: Better than last time,” Soundwave said, offering the empty cube back to Mixmaster. “Ooo w-wonderful,” Mixmaster hummed as he took it back, pleased with his handiwork. “Would y-y-you like the recipe?” Soundwave paused for a moment. “Affirmative. Reason: Frenzy would enjoy it.” The mention of one of the cassettes was new. Mixmaster nodded amicably, sending the recipe to Soundwave over comms. After a moment or two of silence, Mixmaster started with his usual small talk. It was never anything with any real substance.

“I w-w-was in the repair bay th-the other night, cleaning the tools. You know they need to be scrubbed after use, so th-there I was. S-s-scrubbing.”

It was never anything interesting.

“And I figured I could just use b-b-bleach. But I didn’t want to just start mixing it with my usual c-cleaners. Cause a n-nasty reaction? No th-thanks!”

It was never anything new.

“So I decided to just use what I always did! No c-c-crazy experiments for me th-that night. Hahaha!”

It was always words devoid of information. Hollow stories that never mentioned any other Decepticon or any notable event or any feeling or thought, presented charmingly. He was always charming, social, put toegther. His act was well-rehearsed, deliberate in its lack of his thoughts, feelings, and relationships. Soundwave listened even though there wasn’t anything there to find. Mixmaster was good at pretending he had nothing to hide by talking a lot about nothing. Soundwave respected the routine as a mech of few words and a million secrets of its own. It was an act different from Soundwave’s own deliberate silence and one that worked just as well at keeping others out.

Mixmaster chuckled a bit as he poured himself another cube and sipped at it, having had a couple since he’d started telling his story. “Ah, I told you th-th-that one last time, didn’t I?” Soundwave nodded slowly. He had. Mixmaster knew when he started telling the story that it was the second time. Soundwave had seen him do that before. It was part of his character to be a bit forgetful even though he wasn’t. Mixmaster smiled at him knowingly. He knew Soundwave saw right through him. “Tell me about your d-day,” he purred before finishing his third cube of energon. It wasn’t a secret between them. The awareness of what the other was up to. They didn’t have to say it to know.

“Soundwave: Tended to security duty.” “H-h-how was it?” “Security duty: uneventful.” “Well, th-that’s good! What shift do you h-have tomorrow?” “Tomorrow’s shift: security duty.”

They each knew the other was a fraud, hiding behind the mystery and the mundane. A mess swept under the rug. A face under a mask.

“S-s-sounds nice,” Mixmaster moved over to sit on Soundwave’s lap, facing it. Soundwave set its hands on Mixmaster’s arms with an amount of tenderness no Decepticon other than a cassette had ever seen. And Mixmaster. The Constructicon’s hands rested on the tapedeck’s shoulders, and he flinched a bit as he started to lean down, his hip troubling him. Soundwave moved a hand quickly to support him. “Sorry th-th-thank you,” he muttered. “Accidentally b-banged it the other n-night…” That was new. An event. Some information. Soundwave’s vice grip on its silence slipped. “Understood. Not trouble. Rumble: helps Soundwave with weak knee joint sometimes.” Their gazes met, and for a moment they shared a silence filled with nothing but tension. No follow up questions. With no words spoken, they fell back on that rule. Mixmaster shut his optics and Soundwave opened its mask, and they held each other and kissed softly. Two frauds safely behind their masks again, keeping things quiet together.

[lumierexfics]

Wow I go by Wish so your inbox thing was cool to see :O

Umm…. May I request. Um. Uh. Oh my god sorry I’m shy BSNSNDNSNDNDNDN

ok ok Jonathan Sims with someone who just for the life of them. Has this debilitatingly HUGE crush on him. Has for 3 years!!! And just. Aaaaaahhh—

A cheery, sensitive, whimsical uhh. Stargender,, enby Person (I go by wi/wish/wishes/wishself pronouns!) just. Very enchanted by his beauty and the soft tones of his voice and his delicate hands and GSBDBDBDBDNDND ETC ETC ETC— has always wanted to approach him to help him destress and cuddle, but has always been too shy to act on these feelings? ;~; or to really ever approach him in general? Save for small offerings left around his desk, like water bottles and snacks— probably lots of baked goods >//<

Super friendly, and very excitable around most coworkers and then just the equivalent of “O//O eep!”Around Jon, you KNOW—

God it’s so bad I have such intense fantasies about kissing him deeply and passionately but then I just!!! CANT FOR THE LIFE OF ME EVEN MUSTER UP THE COURAGE TO BE LIKE “HI JON”

He loves my star-shaped glasses

A/N: I’m a bit rusty for TMA but hopefully you’ll enjoy it!!

Jonathan Sims x reader

Thankfully, it was one of the many times which he left to grab new cassette tape and it was your time to strike. Opening the door to the archives office, scanning around to see who was there but everyone was either on their lunch break or overworking themselves, leaving the water bottle and a snack behind not on the case file but on the side so it wouldn’t be in the way of him recording.

You’d hurried back to your office, feeling your cheeks burned from almost getting caught by your overwhelming crush on the head archivist.

Working in the artifact room was interesting but it was easy to categorize the objects that were found in other cases, slipping on your gloves to carefully analyze the artifacts and to put them in their respective levels of abnormalities. A smile creeped on your face, just imagining how he’d react to the snacks and water bottle that appeared on his desk. But it was better for him not to know who left those small gifts since you couldn’t seem to muster up any words even if you tried speaking to him.

A tinge of a feeling grew on your back which must’ve been the strange feeling or sense of being watched while you worked, deciding to pay no mind to it as you continued to put the items back in their places. Finally, it was time to leave the Institution to return home but there remained an eating feeling of worry and utter wonder about Jonathan Sims, if he already clocked out and began to head home.

The archive hallways were cleaner as the walls were lined with metal file cabinets and doors that led to the archives. But something was off, next to the archive door was an oddly colored yellow door; was it always there, you thought. The familiar feeling came back instead of worrying about Jonathan Sims, it was curiosity and what is behind the yellow door. The yellow door creaked open to allow you inside; a long hallway of doors and shattered mirrors but something told you to not enter the hallways. Instead you opened the door to the Archives, every desk had their lights off except for one which belonged to him. Papers were scattered, the click the tape recorder had snapped up; it seemingly echoed around the tight and suffocating room of the archives.

Why was the sensation of being watched so intense in the archives, you questioned yourself in thought. And where he was, was the main question scattered in your mind when you put down snacks and a water bottle on his desk.

“Jonathan?” You asked.

Hearing your voice echo throughout the archives with a small response from an opened spare room, hurrying over to the room to see a clearly distressed Jonathan holding his shinbone, blood droplets were a scattered trail. Thin napkins and your constellation themed scarf that you kept in your bag for occasions is what tried to stop the bleeding.

You hoped that it wasn’t obvious but your face burned with boiling feelings since it felt like he was inches away from your face, you helped him stand, carefully exit the spare room into the Archives with his arm over your shoulder and walking the nearest desk because he insisted to finish his work rather than going to the walk-in clinic.

Handing him the organized papers that were once scattered on the floor.

“I know it’s you leaving me these gifts on my desk.” He said.

You couldn’t look over at him since your face bloomed with more burning embarrassment after the sudden reveal.

“How did you know it was me?” You asked, trying to sound confident.

Jonathan reached down to the last cabinet in the desk, opening it to pull open to reveal a single item which was your missing pair of star-shaped sunglasses which you swore you lost in the artifact room, carefully outstretched his hand for you to grab the star-shaped sunglasses.

“Thank you for leaving me those gifts.” he smiled.

He always had a stern expression but he smiled at you or it must’ve been a hallucination seeing him smile.

“It’s nothing..” you responded, not wanting to look over to him and to embarrass yourself more. “Besides, we should really go to a clinic..”

You carefully rested his arm over your shoulder and helped him walk out of the archives. Hearing the faint sound of the tape recorder click up, reaching the door to the archives. Pulling it open as you shuffled out to the hallway which you stopped to look at the empty space next to the archive door.

“Is something wrong?” He asked.

“I thought I saw a yellow door when I came over here..” You answered, still puzzled if the yellow door was real or just a figment of your imagination.

[notstinky]

TIMING: Van's birthday; March 12th, 2024 FEATURING: Van (@vanoincidence) & Thea (@notstinky) LOCATION: The streets SUMMARY: It's Van's birthday! And it's her right as birthday girl to receive products for free. Thea and Van embark on a quest to be normal and get like, a free chicken sandwich or something at least. WARNINGS: Unsanitary tw (gamer girl bathwater discussion)

Van stared down at the options before her. A bent toothbrush, a hair clip that had the charm snapped off, and an old tape that’d been half unraveled. She looked over at Thea, confusion evident on her features before looking back to the shopkeeper. “You mean… you don’t have like, I don’t know, a free cookie or something?” The man looked at her with a arched brow. “This is not a cookie store, girly. You get what you get, and this is what we have for birthday items. What will it be?” She didn’t know how to use a cassette player, and something told her that it was destroyed beyond repair at this point, so she picked up the toothbrush. Maybe she could use it to clean the nooks and crannies of the stove, or maybe she’d learn how to hold it in a way that didn’t matter if it was bent. 

“Come on, Thea.” She tugged her friend’s arm, looping it through before heading in the direction where she thought maybe she could at least get a cupcake. “Why is every place so weird? Like, if we lived in a city, I’d at least have a free chicken sandwich or anything.” She dug into her bag with her free hand, coming up with the items she’d already received. A pack of blue rubber bands, a half empty bottle of advil, and windshield cleaner. “At least the windshield cleaner will like, be nice… I don’t know if I trust the advil, though.” She was almost sure it’d been taken from the shopkeeper’s own stash. 

It was the right of every financially challenged individual to use birthday promotions to their benefit. That was what Thea believed—knew. Like the way the sky appears blue or that bidets are a necessity, she knew that it was Van’s right as the birthday girl to abuse the marketing tactics of million dollar corporations: Denny’s, Starbucks, Sephora, iHop. Thea had taken it personally when Van’s spoils had been so lame. The first time felt like a sour bubble in her gut and by the time they were getting the windshield cleaner, her shoulders collapsed with disappointment. When Van was picking up the toothbrush, hope vanished from Thea’s eyes. When she’d looked it up online, the results showed that one could expect ‘come find out (winky face)’ on their birthday in Wicked’s Rest. She supposed this was them finding out (though with a notable lack of winky face). 

The hope might have left her eyes, her face, her body, but it hadn’t left her soul. As was Thea’s preference for walking with Van, she linked their arms together and squeezed their bodies together. “I think this is like Voltron; we’re just collecting the pieces for something. When we combine it we’ll get, like, a PS5.” She smiled brightly, nudging her friend. “It’s not so bad!” It was terrible, it was miserable. “Who wants a chicken sandwich anyway? You can get those from anywhere.  But suspicious Advil? That’s a rare item: S-Rank, Five-star, ultra rare; to put that into anime girl gacha game terms for you.” Thea wanted a chicken sandwich; she’d skipped lunch thinking they’d be drowning in pancake after pancake by now. Besides, there was no way she could sugar coat it to make it sound like used Advil was S-Rank when it was so clearly C-Tier. Still, more than anything else, all she wanted was for Van to have a good day and an even better birthday. 

“Are you getting tired?” Thea hummed, eyeing the line of shops—restaurants, to cafés, to clothing stores, to that one store that always smelled super eggy. “I think I’ve got a few more in me before I give up and just start paying for things.” She adjusted the strap of her bag with her free arm, Van’s simple present rattling inside. There was one boon to the shitty spoils: it made her gift feel a lot better by comparison. “Where do you want to go next?” 

“Maybe somebody will trade all of this for an old DS or something, you’re right.” Van laughed softly as they continued on their way. She looked at Thea out of the corner of her eye with an arched brow. She knew when people made an attempt to make her feel better, and though Van should’ve been a little disappointed by her birthday spread, it could have gone a lot worse. She could’ve been alone today. Jade was taking her out for drinks later tonight, but at least she got to spend the day with Thea. After everything that had happened with Regan, she needed a normal day. Or, as normal as it could be, all things considered. 

“I don’t know, I think chicken sandwiches are actually pretty good.” She was getting a little hungry and she hoped that the free cupcake was actually a cupcake and not a bar of soap. Though, it wouldn’t have been the first time she’d eaten something that wasn’t food. Van rolled her eyes at Thea as she translated the terms over into gacha game terms. “Hey! I know what that means like, otherwise. I play other games with those things, not just gacha.” She tugged on Thea’s arm gently, redirecting her towards the crosswalk to the right of them instead. 

“Maybe we can get a red bull or something…” Van hummed under her breath as they wandered forward, rolling her eyes at Thea’s offer. “Do that, and I’ll never forgive you. Besides, what if that like… breaks the ritual of all this? The floss might be worth something, we don’t know.” She really didn’t think it was, but whatever. “Maybe to the corner store– re-up, get caffeine, see if they’ll maybe give me a sugar packet.” Van grinned, finally feeling a little bit like herself in this moment. The anxiety hadn’t yet reared its ugly head, and for that she was grateful. She wanted one normal day, and she would get it. 

“Because you’ve been running all over the place with me, I’m definitely going to buy you my choice of red bull, by the way.” Before Thea could protest, Van was tugging her through the shop doors, raising a hand of greeting towards the clerk. She led the way towards the back fridges, disappointed to see that there was no red bull, but weird off brand energy drinks instead. “What is… goose juice?” 

“Exactly! Like those YouTube videos of the people trading up their pennies for a Tesla, or whatever.” Thea grinned, flush with the joy of having a friend and being with her friend. The fact that it was Van’s birthday meant something to Thea, however arbitrary it must have felt to all the businesses they visited. This was her friend, Van: kinda short, cool, seemingly chronically tired, definitely very sad on the inside. Today was Van’s birthday. It meant something more than the full rotation of the Earth from the day she came into it but the words were lost to Thea, not that she could jumble them into a sentence anyway. Birthdays always felt special to her; beyond the gifts, the candles, the notoriety and free pancakes. Today was Van’s birthday. 

“I’ll stop teasing you about your gacha games when I see evidence of you doing anything else but trying to collect cute anime girls on your phone.” Thea smiled, happily led along by her friend. “No,” she whined gently in a playful tone, “not a Redbull; first of all I think you’re like ninety percent caffeine at this point. Like if you prick your finger neon green Monster energy would flow out. Secondly, don’t you want to…” Sleep. Rest. If Van had an energy drink now, would she be up the rest of the day, ruining her chance at a full sleep? Thea bit the inside of her cheek, stopping herself from chastising Van like she had any room to; she wasn’t any better. Most of her diet was coffee and energy drinks and makeup was the only thing that saved her from showing off the eyebags and dark circles that, by now, were permanently welded to the bottom of her eyes. She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d had a good sleep. And anyway, it was Van’s birthday, if she wanted Redbull, Thea would put aside the part of her brain that wanted to pretend she was responsible. 

“Do they make anime-girl flavored Redbull or…” Thea trailed off, staring into the glass fridge. “Goose Juice,” she repeated. “And that’s not even a goose, that’s a Gadwall—a duck.” She opened the fridge, grabbing two cans of Goose Juice: Goose Juice Original and Goose Juice Extreme Goose. “I was thinking of getting into birding because it’s like looking at the stars but during the day and it’s birds but these people in the bird group were like ‘get serious or get lost’?” She flipped the can over, frowning at its lack of any explanation. “There’s no ingredient list,” she said, “or like, a number to call and tell them that this isn’t even a goose.” She held the cans up. “Do you want to try these? Or we could do, like…” She squinted at the offerings. “Moose Juice? Oh, come on! That’s an elk!” She shook her head. “The standards of local energy drink makers are so low.” 

“A penny for a Tesla sounds like, really overrated. Maybe a penny for…” Van thought about it for a moment, drawing a blank. “Maybe a new Honda Civic or something, I don’t know.” That seemed funnier, in its own way. “Or maybe a prius.” She looked over her shoulder at Thea with a frown. “I’m literally doing other things like, all of the time. I work! A lot!” Not so much recently, but that didn’t really matter, did it? Sly Slice was on the slower side which meant hours got cut. Once spring break was over for the students, things would pick back up. That was sort of how it always happened, anyway. 

Van scoffed at Thea’s comment. “Not monster, red bull. It’d probably be like, sort of red– ‘cause of the peach nectarine flavor and stuff.” She’d never stoop so low as to drink monster energy. Not even the coffee one, mostly because those made her stomach hurt. She’d sooner drink tea over those any day. 

“If they did, I think I’d know about it, but I don’t want it to be like, one of those weird situations with that one gamer girl, you know? That was like, totally weird. Did you know it wasn’t even her bath water?” Van was talking about things that didn’t really matter when it came down to it, but she knew Thea would listen, anyway. Thea always listened– she was a good friend like that. The two cans of Goose Juice were… the packaging was cool, Van had to admit, but it definitely wasn’t a goose. Even Van could tell that much. “I think that one is an antelope.” She pointed at another one of the Moose Juices and frowned. She’d never seen this brand before. That didn’t really stop her most days, anyway. She’d eat anything if it looked good enough. “We can try it!” Van took the cans from Thea and hugged them against her chest. “I think you should totally bird watch if you want to, by the way. Like, what are they going to do? Sic the birds on you or something?” She rolled her eyes, “that sounds like, totally stupid. They can’t even control birds.” Van led the way to the cashier, putting the drinks down for the cashier to scan. He looked down at the drinks, then back up at them. 

“These come with t-shirts, do you want them?” Van’s eyebrows furrowed, then she looked over at Thea. “Um… are they free?” The man rolled his eyes, “that’s what comes with means, doesn’t it?” Van dug into her bag for the measly 10 dollar bill that’d surely cover the two drinks. “Yeah, we want them!” The man turned on his heel and dug into a box on the ground, later producing two t-shirts– both oversized. There were two non-geese on the front doing kickflips on skateboards, a giant thought bubble cascading over the arm in a misprinted fashion, GET GOOSED, OR GET GOSSED. 

“I didn’t know you were such an energy drink purist.” Thea snorted. “Sorry, sorry, your blood is peach Redbull. Will you ever forgive me for forgetting your favorite energy drink?” She grinned, feeling past anxieties wither away. Slowly, the sounds of the world dissolved into white noise. Today was Van’s birthday, and nothing else mattered so much to Thea. She forgot about their terrible spoils and how shitty her gift was. All she was paying attention to was the sound of Van’s voice, and the shape her lips made over the words, and the nonsense that was coming out. “I think that’s like, probably a liability thing?” Thea countered with her own nonsense. “Like it can’t be her bathwater ‘cause that’s nasty and what if someone drank it and got sick? Or, I don’t know, I guess maybe it was a money thing? You should know because you’re a gamer girl.” She smiled. “You have the gamer girl telepathy connection—like Cerebro but for gamer girls. Do you know what Cerebro is? Never mind, I shouldn’t start talking about X-Men.�� It was more than likely she would never stop. 

Thea tugged on her hat as heat crawled into her cheeks. There was something about Van saying she could birdwatch that embarrassed her just as much as it made her feel like it was actually possible. “They just might.” She smiled softly. “Sic the birds on me, I mean. They’re kinda scary.” They were very scary, like a nerdy bird mafia. She was positive they had Latin bird names memorized and she thought anyone that had any amount of Latin memorized was scary. But Van was right, they couldn’t control birds. Then again, people couldn’t turn into animals and she had howled at enough full moons to prove that wrong. As Van moved away, the world fizzled back into place. Yes, she ate people. It smelled like bleach and rot in this store. Why was she getting an energy drink when she knew it made her more anxious? She was so tired. Van wasn’t having fun and it was all Thea’s fault. 

Thea grasped at the open air, desperate for her friend. She caught up to her quickly at the counter, heart pounding. “Free stuff! Finally!” She cheered, a little winded, forcing her smile to go a little wider. When the shirts were presented, Thea snatched one up, dropping her bag to the ground. Without hesitation, she pulled the oversized shirt on, wearing it over her sweater. “It’s kinda perfect,” she said, as the world faded back out. “Come on, you gotta put yours on too.” If Van wasn’t here, she might have been thinking about how presumptuous she was being; maybe Van wanted that shirt for someone else, not her. Or maybe Van didn’t want to put it on now—didn’t want to walk around matching with her. But Van was here, and it was her birthday, and they were friends. “The shirts are S-Tier for sure—for shirt.”

Van rolled her eyes. “Only gamer dudes who don’t like, wash their armpits drink monster.” She wasn’t sure if that was true, and some monster energy drinks were good, but she definitely preferred Red Bull. It was fairly obvious at this point, anyway. “I don’t know, I might never forgive you. It like, totally depends.” She stuck her tongue out at Thea playfully, glad that today was panning out the way it was. She was having fun with a friend, and it wasn’t a birthday where she was holed up in her room curled up beneath the covers— instead, she was… having a nice time? Fun, even. Thea was fun, and Van was grateful that out of her days off, she’d chosen to hang out today. 

As Thea went on to explain liabilities, Van shrugged. Thea probably had a point there. But still, there’d been a whole thing about false advertising, and by the end of the twitter thread (fuck you, x), Van had been so squeamish about bath water that she took only showers from then on. “Why would you insult me like that? Gamer girl. That’s like the whole, not being like other girl things only with another thing on top of it.” Van liked games, but she didn’t consider herself to be a gamer girl. Oh no, maybe she was a part of the I’m not like other girls crowd with that mindset. “Never mind, I guess… you’re right, I am a gamer girl.” She bowed her head in respect for the crimes she’d committed in that moment, hand to her chest. “I know X-Men! You can keep talking about X-Men, but I don’t know if I agree with you. There’s no like, telepathic connection here.” 

“If they did, the birds would like, learn how nice you are and turn around and attack the other people…” Van grinned at Thea, willing her friend to believe that she could do anything she put her mind to. Whoever told her that she couldn’t bird watch was a total asshole, and Van kind of really hated them for it. 

Van grabbed the t-shirt that was presented to her, pinching at the corners of the arms as she took in its full view. It was funny, in a weird nonsensical way. Thea was already putting hers on, and Van had to hide the smile that definitely meant I’m glad we can share something. She did so by pulling the shirt over her head. It was a lot longer on her than it was on Thea, but it didn’t matter. She’d wear it as long as Thea wore her’s. “S-tier for shirt…” Van snorted at Thea’s (missed) joke and tugged on her arm, leading Thea out of the store after paying for the Goose Juice. 

“What do you think these even like… taste like?” Van tugged at the collar of the oversized shirt slightly, crouching down at the end of the sidewalk that led back into the store. She cracked open one of the drinks and peered inside. It was a weird orange color, that much she could tell. She looked up at Thea with a grin. “What if this is like, my new favorite energy drink?” She hoped it wouldn’t be— it was way more expensive than Red Bull. But maybe it wouldn’t be all that bad. She’d be reminded of Thea every time she drank it from then on. 

“I drink Monster.” Thea frowned, summoning her best attempt at a wounded puppy. She couldn’t be sure how she looked, maybe it was closer to ‘crusty stray dog’ than ‘puppy’, and anyway, she couldn’t keep it up for long. She burst into a wide grin, meeting Van’s playfulness with her own. “Sometimes I’m really into that sugary, battery-acid stuff. And sometimes, it’s got more caffeine per dollar so it feels like a more sound investment despite my slow demise into a gamer dude with stinky pits.” The Monster plus java drink was probably a crime against her body, but there was something about chugging an obscene amount of caffeine all at once that really made her survive being underpaid like nothing else could. “Is it?” Thea tilted her head to the side as Van went on, humming in consideration. “I thought, like, you’re a girl…and you play games so…you’re a gamer girl. But maybe you deserve your own special classification! You’re a Red Bull fueled Van—not like the car—girl.”

At the mention of X-Men, Thea perked up. There was nothing that derailed any pattern of thought much like something she was fixated on: astronomy, science in a broader scene, celestial objects and X-Men. “So in the comics, there’s this underground mutant society where all the nasty mutants went because they felt like, ugly or whatever. And their leader is Callisto and she’s all like, I’m ugly! I gotta go in the sewers because I’m so ugly! But she just has an eyepatch? Like she looks fine? Like maybe Callisto should relax?” Thea didn’t consider that she was like Callisto in many ways; her baldness did make her want to go create a new society in the sewers. “I would be so mad if I went into the sewers because I was too ugly for society and Calisto with her abs and eyepatch was my leader.” Thea shook her head. “I, uh, totally forgot what we were talking about.” Something to do with birds, probably; Thea felt vaguely encouraged by Van, though she assumed it was Van’s general presence that did that. 

“S-Tier for shirt! Duh.” Thea giggled as Van pulled them along. But not even Van could counteract Goose Juice; the smell hit Thea in one acrid wave. Goose Juice reeked of indeterminable chemicals. She peered into the can. “It doesn’t smell like orange.” Usually orange things smelled like orange because they were orange-flavored, Thea’s favorite. Goose Juice was a different beast. “I think all cans of Peach-Nectarine Redbull are crying right now because you even suggested that.” Thea shook her head. “Oh! But--uh, hold on--” Thea pulled them to a halt, jamming her hand into her bag. She pulled out a small box, delicately wrapped and adorned with an orange ribbon. “Since, you finally got something for free…” Thea tugged on her matching oversized Goose Juice T-shirt. “...I can finally give you your present.” Present was certainly a generous word for her attempt at Crazy Frog earrings—the market for Crazy Frog merchandise was limited enough that Thea had to make her own. But she’d never really worked with clay before, and she wasn’t much of an artist, and they didn’t look the same and one was certainly more Kermit than Crazy Frog and if the earrings were sentient then they would probably want to live in the sewers with Callisto and oh god, what had she been thinking? 

Thea bit down on her lip. “Maybe, uh, take a shot of the Goose Juice first; it’ll help, maybe.” Thea tried to hide the tremble in her hands. “I hope it tastes like orange; since it’s orange. But maybe it’s, like, peach? Or mango?” And now she was just hoping to distract from the present. 

Van froze, mock devastation sprinkling over her expression as she tucked a hand to her chest at the reveal that Thea drank monster. “Why have I never seen it? Do you have a mini fridge in your room or something? I feel like, so lied to right now.” Laughter bubbled between her lips as she shook her head. “Please, you do not smell like that.” Thea used way too many soaps to actually ever smell bad. The smell of her showers lingered in the apartment for hours afterwards. Was that weird to think about? Probably. But she always smelled good! Not like stinky gamer man pits. 

“I think that I’m insulting girls who play games if I try to say I’m not a gamer girl because then it’s like, am I embarrassed to be considered a gamer girl?” She paused, brushing some hair out of her face before she continued, “I should hold my gamer girl head high. You’re so right, Thea. Thank you for opening my eyes to it.” She grinned at her friend, happy that at least she’d been trying to make up other words for what Van could consider herself to be. “Not like the car—girl though, I like that. That makes sense for who I am as a person.” She gave a curt nod in Thea’s direction. “I’ll keep that one.” 

As Thea went on to explain the ugly-people society beneath the sewers, Van snorted. “Yeah, but we all know that like, the ugly people in comics usually aren’t ugly. They’re drawn with super pointy boobs and stuff and are still considered hot, but want us to think they’re ugly by saying they’re ugly, you know?” She wasn’t sure if that made sense, but she thought it did, and she figured that it would make sense to Thea. Thea seemed to always be able to parse out what she was saying; or maybe she was just… pretending she was? Van wasn’t sure, really. “You can totally ramble about X-men any time, by the way! I like to learn things I didn’t know about things I’ve read because I haven’t read those, you know? Plus, if I ever get pulled into trivia, then I at least know some things.” The smile she wore didn’t falter as she looked at Thea. Instead, it grew slightly. 

The smell that emitted from the can, or rather, the longer she did smell it, the more it seemed… less than exciting. A little scary, actually. What if this was actually battery fuel or something? “You’re right, I don’t know why I suggested it.” She looked down the can again, one eye closed so that she could get a better look at the contents of the drink. Suddenly, she was stopped by Thea, and there was a small box produced from her friend’s bag. Van stared down at it, surprised by the arrival of yet another gift. She looked back up to meet Thea’s eyes. “Dude, you didn’t have to get me something else— you already did.” She pushed the drink into Thea’s hands, exchanging for the gift box. She popped it open, surprise illuminating her features as she saw what was inside. 

“Dude, these are so cool! Did you make these?” They looked hand made which made them like, way more special than anything that was store bought. Though, Van would still love them even if they were store bought, because they came from Thea! Her cute friend! She quickly began to take out the strawberry earrings she’d been wearing prior and put on the ones that Thea had made her before depositing her others into the box. She closed the lid and shoved it into her own bag before tucking her hair behind her ears, showing off the jewelry to Thea. “Do they look cool? They feel cool.” The smile wasn’t going away anytime soon, she realized. 

Thea was rambling about the drink she held in her hands and Van grabbed onto her forearm. She didn’t feel any bit anxious which, in all, was weird for her. “These are so cool, can you show me how you made them? Maybe I can make you some and then we can have like, matching t-shirts and earrings.” She took her own drink back from Thea before smelling at it again. “The earrings are way cooler than the goose juice,” Van admitted with a small frown. She looked back up to meet her friend’s eyes, “thanks, for real— this is like, the best present ever. I don’t think I’ll ever take them off.” 

There wasn’t much Thea had done right. She’d come to Wicked’s Rest by the force of her own mistake; landed a definitely-not-legal job at a probably-illegal fight club by desperation; even meeting Van, meeting her friends—which were the only things that felt normal at all in her life—came from an accident. She shouldn’t be here. She shouldn’t be Van’s friend. It was Van’s birthday; she shouldn’t be here. Her happiness was surreal, tugging at the strands of reality and pulling her mind out of her body. She felt like someone else, watching two happy friends. She didn’t say anything about how it wasn’t a mini-fridge, but she was still renting out a room in the maybe-haunted house because she was afraid Van would get sick of her. She might have said something about how Van was right, comic artists always give women pointy boobs. Maybe she said something else about how she was happy to get Van something else; nothing about how one thing didn’t seem like enough. If she gave Van more, maybe she could feel like she’d earned their friendship. Did she switch her weight nervously? Did she laugh? Did she turn her eyes away, afraid of seeing Van’s disgust? How could she tell when everything spun? Sweat pooled in her palms and heat rushed to her cheeks. 

She cracked open her own foul can of Goose Juice and sipped it. Worse than the fear that Van wouldn’t like her present was not knowing where to put the praise. “It’s your birthday,” Thea mumbled. “And that’s… really special because it’s you. And it’s your birthday. And it’s been like, two decades, of the world spinning with you on it. So, like…” Thea braved her own anxiety and looked at her friend and her new, crude, frog earrings. “Yeah, it’s just like, clay. And you mush it and bake it and then you get that.” Thea took another long sip of the goose juice. “Do you actually like them? You’re not just saying that to…” Thea took another sip. What flavor was this? It was beyond fruit, beyond chemicals, like a laboratory Frankenstein flavor was soaked into a dish rag and rung into a can. “It’s your birthday, y’know?” Thea tried to perk up. She couldn’t tell how nice her smile looked; it hurt her cheeks, tugging up her dry lips. 

“It’s like…” The Earth wobbles; the pole goes in a circle. And every ten thousand, there’s a new north star. And right now it’s Polaris, in 12,000 years it’ll be Vega. But right now? “Um, sorta like…” And someone said the calendars should follow the solar year, and that marked one end into a beginning. And the Earth spins and has spun for years and years but right now? “It’s…” Thea shrugged. “I dunno, it’s your birthday. I want to do special things for you, ‘cause you’re my friend and I like you.” How long have people measured time? How long have they been looking up and around and tracking the sun and watching the stars and marking one solar day into the next and could they have fathomed of a RedBull-fueled, mobile anime girl collecting, kinda short, sorta sad, definitely in need of more sleep, girl named Van (not like the car)? Would they know she was Thea’s friend? Did they ever imagine today? Right now? “You should definitely take those off at some point though, I’m pretty sure that’s how you get like, diseases.” In 12,000 years, the humans looking up at their new north, would maybe understand what it was like to look at Van. It was Van’s birthday, that was all Thea wanted to say. 

And it was weird that someone gave her a bent toothbrush. Why was it bent? How do you bend a toothbrush? Why didn’t they put a goose on the can? How could it be that something was right, finally, for her? It was Van’s birthday—everything turns and changes and moves and it has been, and will be, but right now it was Van’s twenty-first birthday and it never would be exactly like this again. But wasn’t it wonderful to know that in a year, an event just like this would happen again? 

Thea linked her arm with Van’s again. “Now can we eat something? Because I’m so hungry, I could eat a person. Not that I would! Or have ever done that before!” 

[yanderedbdimagines]

I would like a scenario in the real world with the zappy doctor and his future obsession in the hospital! I am sw fine with anything but if you want an idea. How about his obsession being his future survivor instead of Feng? And that they are just as luckyy as Ace?

--------------

Zappy doc! Hahahaha! x’D

Ooohhh I think I see what you’re getting at and I like the idea! A thing or two may go in against the lore, but I may as well give in. xD I like this idea too much to listen to the rulez.

-------------

The Doctor

You voice out your concerns to your friends as you lock eyes onto the gigantic and mysterious crème-colored building. "I don't think this is a good idea," you say. Your eyes swivel to one of the many glass panes that have been partly shattered due to the ordeal of weather and time. You could have sworn that you just saw something, or perhaps even someone lurking behind it.

But your friends are not convinced. "Don't be such a wuss, [Y/N]," one of your male friends says, rolling his eyes at you. "This is just like any other abandoned building. You'll see, even with these wacky stories going around."

Another friend chimes in, "I agree. Besides, there has to be a good explanation of why this hospital facility can't be found anywhere on the map and why most of the surrounding buildings seem to have been demolished. It has to be something juicy since we're on US Military soil right now."

You scoff, "Which is exactly why I don't like being here. One wrong move and they'll know that we're trespassing. And who knows what kind of penalty we'll face if they capture us here."

"Well then, that makes it all the more reason to move about more carefully, don't you?" your friend says. "Yeah, so relax. We'll be in and out in a jiffy."

As you enter the building, the heavy smell of rust, mold, and wet flaking plaster fills the chilly air. You lift your nose even further up into the air to avoid breathing in the noxious fumes of the place. You realize that you should have brought a half respirator mask with you. The sight alone is already giving you the feeling as if something is about to clog up your lungs.

“Let’s split up. We can explore the institute a bit faster this way,” one proposes. The rest went along almost instantly. Despite your own reservations, you decide to go along with the group, splitting up to explore the different parts of the abandoned hospital. One friend decided he’d like to stick with you.

After splitting up, you follow the young man into the study, shaking off the anxiety from your shoulders. The tall shelves are stacked with endless rows of books, file folders, patient documents, and old video cassettes.

“Wow, look at this place [Y/N]! Who knew this hospital would have an unique room like this hidden here! There’s even still some cool-looking stuff on the desk and there’s nothing littering the floor,” your friend points out, pointing the lens of his camera towards the Persian carpet in order to capture some footage of it before facing it towards the large desk and the brown leather chair standing behind it. 

Circling around the desk, you curiously open up one of the worn binders, noticing that the paper itself is cleaner than what you expected it to be, too. Still, you decide to read the texts and examine the drawn pictures displayed within. The beautiful writings and drawings are in a surprisingly pristine condition, save for a tiny smudge here and there.

“Very impressive,” you can’t help but muse as you read through the procedure itself, only to scowl in disgust after another minute, your friend now looking over your shoulder as well. “And impressively inhumane,” you murmur after. “This procedure must have been a hell for the person involved. The fact that this was allowed here is something I cannot wrap my head around.” 

“I don’t get it at all… What is this about? And what does ECT mean?”

“Short for electroconvulsive therapy. This research is a detailed comprehensive study of the results of one of several electroshock therapies that seem to have taken pla-” you cut yourself off, confusing your friend greatly. Your eyes widen, your hair seems to stand on end and your hands impulsively grab for the binder.

“The date… T-This happened a month ago…” you say, your voice trailing off.

As you both stand there, staring at the binder filled with valuable data about the inhumane procedures that took place in the hospital, a voice suddenly interrupts your thoughts. "This impressively inhumane procedure surely has taken place quite a while ago, I sadly have to say. And I do advise you to put that down in the same state as it was there previously. That data is very valuable to me. As you may have noticed, patients are very hard to come by these days. Today is nothing more than a pleasant exception."

You both whip around in shock and stare at the towering man now filling the doorway. His illuminating eyes are fixated only on you as he speaks. A strange metallic contraption keeps his eyes and mouth pried wide open, and his overall skin texture is mostly scarred and even cracked around his hands. Metal wiring snakes through the flesh of his surprisingly muscular arms before protruding out of it, sparking in their wake.

As you both realize the strange situation you find yourselves in, you waste no time to give your friend a hard shove with the binder before the two of you stumble out of the office room and down the long hallway. You can hear the man in the torn lab coat chasing after you.

You quickly zip open your backpack and stuff the binder inside of it, knowing that this data is priceless and could serve as proof that this hospital isn't quite as abandoned as the locals currently believe it to be. Perhaps the horrors within these documents may even stir the American government to do something about this place if it ever goes public in any shape or form.

You doubt that the man would let you go now as you've just stolen his valuable data. So, you decide to take a high risk, high reward approach and try to outrun him, knowing very well that you may as well be angering him because of this. A sudden jolt of static electricity hits both you and your friend, and you scream sharply in unison as a joyful and mocking laughter responds from behind. An indescribable tingling sensation settles in between your ears, swinging between a mild ache and a burning sensation.

You yell out to your friend to go left and warn the others as you turn right on the hallway's junction. With a quick look over your shoulder, your expectation that he'd decide to chase you actually came true. You've become too big of a priority with that binder now in your possession, so you decide to pick up the pace even further than you already did.

As you rush through the concrete hive of narrow hallways and tiny rooms, a sense of claustrophobia, fear, and utmost confusion about the layout completely throws you off your memory to remember on where you and your friends came in through and where you even currently are. Heavy footfalls are hot on your heel now, so you vault over a brick wall and rush up a flight of stairs, passing a medical procedure cart at the very top of it.

Suddenly, you whirl around, managing to surprise the Doctor, before you push the cart off its place and straight towards the man who is halfway up. As you decide to keep on running, you hear it make contact with him before a loud crash and a pained yelp reaches your ears, followed by loud and amused laughter bordering on a laugh of utmost insanity.

Breathless and terrified, you bolt through the dark hospital hallways, heart racing as you try to put as much distance between yourself and the madman behind you. You find and burst through the exit doors and race into the forest beyond, the dense trees and underbrush slowing you down but providing much-needed cover.

You run for what feels like hours, your feet aching and your lungs burning, but you can't stop. You don't dare look back, afraid that he'll catch up to you, and you don't even know where you're going. But you can't stay there, not with that maniac on your tail.

Just when you feel like you can't run anymore, you stumble onto a deserted road. You pause for a moment, trying to catch your breath and figure out which way to go, when you hear the sound of a car approaching. Without thinking, you step out into the middle of the road and wave your arms frantically, hoping the driver will see you.

The car screeches to a halt just in front of you, and the driver- a woman, rolls down the window to ask if you're okay. You're about to answer when you catch a glimpse of movement within the deeper parts of the forest. You gasp loudly and dive into the backseat of the car, urging the driver to take off as fast as possible.

You swivel around in the leather backseat, throwing a panicked glance over your shivering shoulder. Your wide eyes meet fluorescent white ones which can only belong to the deranged man currently basking in the darkness of the night. Only the faint sparks of electricity jumping from the wiring sticking out of his bulky arms further indicate that it’s him as his large form quickly grows smaller and smaller by the second.

You look away, a silent sigh of relieve escaping you. You got away from him… You could only thank whichever higher power there might be for having this car drive on that particular road the moment you needed an actual escape the most. More so that it’s a nice lady that responded to your waiving arms and let you inside with perplexity and slight suspicion decorating her face.

As you try to calm your breathing, you couldn’t help but to let your mind wander to your friends. You hope that the rest have been warned, and somehow could escape alright. Another sigh escapes you. You have the feeling they’ll be fine if they don’t stick around for too long. For now, the most important thing is that you’re safe.

But… You spoke much, much too soon.

“What is that?” The woman questions out loud from her spot behind the wheel after five minutes’ worth of driving in silence, her gaze set on the dark mist protruding from the canopy above further up ahead.

Nothing more could be said as they turned into spider-like appendages and picked up the car as if it was just a toy, the two of you screaming in unison as the car door at your side got ripped off its hinges before one of these things hooked around your legs and dragged you outside in one swift motion.

The vehicle falls towards the ground with a crash as you’re fully suspended in the air. The lady doesn’t seem to be able to crawl out of the car for some reason, the smell of gasoline penetrating your crinkling nose a second after it had hit the worn concrete.

With horror, you watch as the vehicle suddenly catches fire as you’re hoisted higher and higher up into the cold atmosphere, immense heat soon rushing past as the car quickly got engulfed into a ball of roaring flames as a contradictory icy scream pierces through the air.   

You fall limp, the anxiety with everything that has happened to you so far finally catching up to you, the final drop being the terrifying wails of a dying person.

Sadly, this would only be the beginning of an experience that’s even darker and more twisted in volume…

[sucktacular]

Vent

At my parents place and have no words

Well actually I have too many words

If I ever ever ever talk about coming back here in the future someone PLEASE kill me instead it'd be less cruel

The moment I got in my old room I started sobbing and bawling my eyes out because this place is just so fucking disgusting and it truly shows my parents do not give a fucking shit about me or anything frankly

Dad gave me such a nice lil "I prommy we aren't disappointed and thus not keeping in touch as much we are actually just proud of you and trust you to take care of yourself out there" speech in the car when like LMFAO you're so funny I've literally been avoiding yall

And then don't even have the fucking brains or care to give me any clean sheets for my bed

Just two+ year old dirty sheets covered in pet hair and ceiling debris

Like I asked in AUGUST to come here like what the literal fuck is wrong with y'all (derogatory)

So my room had "water damage on the ceiling but we prommy it didn't leak" it did leak and the ceiling is literally cracked and falling down but okay I'll ignore the clear signs of a leak left in drippy dust on MY furniture I left

This house would make y'all vomit

Floors covered in ancient pet mess and the bathrooms.... Your skin would crawl. I don't even want to look at it let alone use it. I cleaned it with whatever cleaners I could find in the house cuz they also don't clean anything or have fucking dish soap to begin with let alone hand soap so that's cool and neat

Anyway please please tell me I'm a fucking idiot stupid moron and kick my ass if I ever talk about coming back here that doesn't involve "stopping by to pick up the last of my things"

They keep saying "hey if you wanna start over you're always welcome to come home" as if I wouldn't literally rather fucking kill myself than come LIVE here, let alone subject my poor fucking cat to this god forsaken house.

As if they weren't charging me $600 a month to live in my own fucking parents house when I literally had no where else to go when I was in my early 20s

but okay yeah sure I'll definitely come back to this moldy, putrid, rancid, and STILL piss smelling house to "start over"

I'd literally rather just end it man there's no way I'm ever coming back here

Y'all are deeply deeply fucked in the head

Like I thought I WAS BAD??? nawwwwwwwwww

Anyway I brought my own bed sheets and pillow and blanket cuz I figured it'd be better to be safe than sorry and I'm glad I did cuz I was exactly right that they wouldn't fucking do the bare minimum for my visit 👍

Leaving off on the only fucking positive I can muster from this fucking hell hole is I found a lot of my old cassettes and death note stuff I made and Pokemon cards and things

My lil Pikachu backpack from kindergarten... 🥺

Old sketch books

So to make it so I don't lose my god damn mind before Tuesday, I'll maybe share some photos of all that shit

Thank God I brought a whole fucking lot of weed with me LMAO (deeply pained laughter)

Also my dad is the most pissed off aggressive driver ever and I feel in fucking danger every time im in the car with him

Let alone a 2 hour drive from my place to theirs

End.

[hypochlorism]

HEAD LIKE A HOLE / I'D RATHER DIE THAN GIVE YOU CONTROL

#HYPOCHLORISM : chain-smoker with empty ashtrays , issues with eye contact , an obnoxious amount of cassette tapes , functioning insomniac , burner phones , ripped clothes but pristine fingernails , conspiracy theory aficionado , barker not a biter , "no future" stickers , pessimistic monologues , never ending knowledge on cleaning product brands , hidden softness , family disappointment , "can i pet your cat" , snarkiness as a defense mechanism , meaningless tattoos , volume maxed out , headphones on , wiping everything after touching , [...]

TW : suggested substance abuse , suggested violence + gore , emotional & psychological fatigue [...]

--- ABOUT

NAME: Aza Bilal Ashbridge ALIAS: Az , Mr. Clean , Blockhead , Dick-face , [...] AGE: Forty GENDER: Cis Male SEXUALITY: Bisexual MARITAL STATUS: Single

DOB: November 9th BIRTHPLACE: Brighton , England CURRENT RESIDENCE: London , England , a small two-bedroom apartment in Peckham which he shares with his cat Albini and hundreds of cassette tape filled boxes OCCUPATION: Cleaner @ The Bastion Hotel

Efficient and trustworthy service for the mere price of one gold coin per body! Aza Ashbridge for all of your evidence erasing needs. If you would like, Aza will also do a thorough clean-up of the crime scene though that may cost extra.

--- APPEARANCE

FACE: Riz Ahmed HEIGHT: 5'8" / 1.72 m ETHNICITY: British-Pakistani HAIR: Black and thick, usually kept short or shaved, Aza has begun to bleach it at home. This colour change began shortly after a nasty breakup and is likely to be just a phase EYES: Large and brown, though Aza tends to avoid making eye contact with people he does not wish to get attached to, he is often described as having kind eyes --- this compliment may be redacted as soon as Aza opens his mouth PHYSIQUE: Lean, not particularly muscled but not scrawny either, Aza has the body of someone who might have had a rigorous daily workout routine once upon a time but that has ceased to do so in recent years

DISTINCTIVE MARKS: His body is covered with dozens of small tattoos. Most of them have an ironic streak to them, others are absolutely nonsensical, some are downright ugly, there's no meaning or reason to the sentences and doodles on his skin . The most visible and intriguing tattoo is the one sitting between his neck and chest which reads "hypochlororous acid". His clothing style is also unmistakably ... unique . Most of them are worn-out , ripped or have holes in them . Everything is bought second-hand , some shirts seem either too big or too small for him , colour coordination is unimportant , if there is a method to his wardrobe , it remains a complete mystery to those who interact with him .

--- PERSONALITY

ALIGNMENT: Neutral Good STRENGTHS: Dedicated , focused , observant , intelligent , efficient , confident , independent , creative , resourceful , patient , hard-working [...] WEAKNESSES: Snarky , lonely , inconvenient , blunt , pessimistic , paranoid , stubborn , avoidant , harsh , demanding , obsessive , [...]

SKILLS: Cleaning after others' messes with astounding precision , some knowledge in chemistry and anatomy , understands Urdu but unfortunately cannot speak it fluently , can play the guitar and the piano , drives a motorcycle , makes a mean cup of tea

HABITS: Regularly takes sleeping pills to combat insomnia , smokes weed on a semi-regular basis though it has become more regular in the past year and a half , a smoker of tobacco as well , a social drinker which doesn't venture beyond the realm of beer , cannot fall asleep in complete silence must pop in the one cassette tape he has with the sounds of Aza scrubbing someone's brains off the floor on a loop , avid petter of all cats

--- HISTORY

Born in Brighton, Aza's parents always expected great things from their only child. The pressure of him having to get the best grades in class and the best performance in the school play and the best scores in P.E. wasn't lost on young Aza. And while his mother and father dreamed up the magnificent future their son would have as he applied for college, Aza became increasingly enamoured with the art scene in Brighton; a vibrant world of experimental theatre and noise bands slowly pulled him in. It was when his mother caught of whiff of weed coming from his son's clothes that Aza got shipped up to the capital to live and work for his uncle.

A promising young man was suddenly stuck doing janitorial work at a car rental place. Mopping floors, dusting, fixing the angle of the clock on the wall, you know the deal. Needless to say Aza wasn't happy about it. He was even more unhappy whenever his parents would call to check with his uncle if whatever story Aza had told them earlier was true or a web of insidious lies --- But Aza had never been a bad kid. Heck, he had never even been a rebellious kid. It was when his uncle smacked him across the face for talking back to a costumer that Aza decided he had had it. He pissed in his uncle's gas tank and disappeared into the night.

Aza was nineteen when he cut ties with his family. He never stopped working since then; he's been a janitor, a cashier, a bartender, a dog-walker, a gas station clerk, a grave digger, a dish washer, a fucking mall santa , you name it.

It's when he gets this contract with a cleaning agency which specialises in crime scenes that things really start to get weird.

They offered a pay check better than any other job Aza had ever had, but the things he saw ... He doesn't like to talk about it. Thinks it's rude for people to even ask. Aza wasn't ready for the casualness of vacuuming cranium shards trapped behind the sofa or having to wear extra-thick gloves to pick up someone's flesh off the mini-bar. The violence of it all shook Aza to his core but, surprise surprise, he was great at cleaning that shit up.

The faster he could get everything back to the way it was, the faster he could go back to pretending that this stuff didn't happen. Aza had an eye for detail and, soon, he became the cleaning company's golden boy. It was also around that time that the insomnias started.

Seeing good regular people diced into pieces didn't do Aza any good. Despite the money he was making, it was not enough to make-up for the emotional toll such imagery brought. He was ready to quit. But he was trapped with the sleepless nights, an inability to be left alone with his thoughts and a growing sense of paranoia that he too could suffer a fate as violent as all those people he had mopped up.

Still, he needed the cash and his relationship was jeopardised by the psychological and economical turmoil Aza had fallen into. He was a wreck. One faithful night, while crying over drinks with a colleague, he was given a name; The Bastion Hotel.

Not a bad place to make a big buck and certainly not the kind of work in which you have to worry about running into good people.

Aza didn't know what that meant. He still cringes when he thinks about how he must have looked; red-eyed and hunching, practically begging for a job interview.

He still can't sleep. He is still faced with plenty of dead bodies. But, at the very least, Aza has come to terms with the fact that nothing really matters. All of the efforts his parents put into his education? Meaningless. His girlfriend of five years who bounced as soon as things got rough? Meaningless. His collection of cassette tapes being a clear attempt of Aza trying to hold on to a time in which life was simpler? Meaningless.

Freedom? Ethics? Faith? Big fucking deal.

--- EXTRAS

INSPIRED BY: Lisbeth Salander (TGWTDT), Rustin Cohle (True Detective), The Narrator (Fight Club), Elliot Alderson (Mr. Robot), [...] WANTED DYNAMICS: Under construction / currently everything and anything!

[monyathome]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Magnavox Audio Cassette Head Cleaner Unopened Package.

[1surfrocker]

I got my Long Beach Public Library card today and checked out Slade House by David Mitchell. I haven't read Mitchell in years, but I loved Cloud Atlas so much I read it twice, so I'm sure there will be something here for me with this book.

Amy's finally up and walking around again after 4 solid days of being totally bedridden. She tested negative for Covid twice, but whatever it was really knocked her out. She described it to me like a constant head pressure growing tighter and tighter, like her head was getting squeezed. Sinus headaches, fevers, and a dimness of hearing due to the pressure. Apparently there was a moment last night where her ears popped, the pressure alleviated, and everything sounded incredibly loud because she could suddenly hear again. I think there's only a handful of times in our lives where we get "that sick," and I think this was one of those times for her. Glad to have her back!

Labor Day weekend is one day away, and it looks like it will be a packed weekend. Friday night is dinner with George and Keisha, after which I'll record a VO demo reel for George. He's got a deep and boomy, but also educated sounding voice. He's got the basic ingredients, but I wonder if he'll be any good! At any rate, he's become a good friend quite fast and I'm glad to be hanging with him one on one.

Saturday we celebrate Sierra's birthday with beach, dinner and drinks. Sunday we go to Bryce and Andrea's beach house in Laguna and stay the night. Will probably stay for a while on Monday since we have the day off. You can't go to Laguna in the summer and not swim in the ocean, it's sacrilege!

I've been using the Abberant DSP Cassette Tape plugin that Spencer recommended. It's really, really cool, and I gotta say, it actually makes whatever sound you feed it sound like a cassette tape. You can affect the sound by making it cleaner and more of a gentle tone, or make it sound like old, warbling cassette tape with wow & flutter. I used it yesterday on "I am Mother Nature's Slut" and it really added a cool, lo-fi sound to it, though I think I'll want to dial it back on the guitars a bit. The temptation to overdo it, especially when you're playing with a fun new toy, is overwhelming.

[dogcostume2]

puppy clothes

Your dog is perhaps the family, so why not really dress him upwards for Halloween as well? He'll feel extraordinary in one of these effortless make dog costume. dog halloween costume

If your dog isn't actually comfortable in a entire Halloween costume (or only just refuses to wear one), he may enjoy carrying only a bandanna. Make an effort an orange together with black bandanna and applique a pumpkin or skeleton using a bandanna for your dog's Halloween costume.

For those very little sweeties who will dress in anything to you need to you, here are 15 costume ideas to get dog costumes.

A good Hot Dog Costume outfit: Items needed for that costume are light-weight tan foam, physical structure harness and seemed for mustard and also ketchup. Cut released the 2 sides within the hot dog bun from the foam. A buns should be the time your dog's once again. Round off the tips of the buns by using scissors. Attach that buns to each and every side of your dog's body harness and additionally add the noticed mustard or ketchup you have cut out there down your dog's back. Using your dog's harness makes this approach costume easy as well as the costume will stay set and not slip.

Bumble Bee Pet Costume for halloween: Measure your dog's back from throat to tail. By using yellow fabric, produce a cape that neckties at the neck. Or simply instead of a cape, use a small discolored short sleeve clothing that your dog's the front legs will accommodate through.

Using dark felt, cut out and about stripes and sew them on the orange cape or top. Measure your dog's head and create a yellow felt level that his favourite songs will fit with. For the bee's antennae, use two schokohäutige pipe cleaners in addition to two small Styrofoam balls painted green or use white pom poms. By using glue, attach this balls to the the top pipe cleaners thereafter attach the water pipe cleaners to the discolored felt cap.

Period Box Dog Halloween costume: You will need a cardboard box that is do not or wider as opposed to your dog's core. Spray paint your box with precious metal silver paint. Subsequently draw the two around speakers, radio face and knobs, having a sharpie and your thoughts. Once you are done generating the boom compartment, cut out a part of the box at which your dog's hind legs go and include the boom pack to a dog take advantage of. This also works in a cassette tape, toaster, school bus or even anything with a proverbial box shape.

Tootsie Recede Dog Costume: Purchase a white pillow claim that is about a ft . longer than your puppy. Using a tootsie recede as an example, sew browning and red materials onto the center of that white pillow event. Out of white material cut out what "Tootsie Roll Pup" and sew the language on the brown cloth. Cut out 3 holes for your dog's legs to go through allowing about 4 to 6 inches wide of pillow scenario on each conclusion. Once you have placed this costume on your puppy add white, luxury stuffing and tie up off each close with string however , keep it cozy… so not overly tight.

Pretty Romantic Dog Costume: This particular costume consists of simply a cone shaped headdress made out of silk. Select silk or some form of shiny fabric inside the color of your personal preference. Take construction report and make a cone that will fit the most notable of your dog's face, then glue or simply staple it with each other. Now glue your fabric to the daily news cone and abandon a semi-long show that will float around your dog's spine. Add a string and elastic band going under your dog's chin and, voila! you have a little princess!

Fast and simple Dog Costumes:

Cowboy Dog Costume: Wrap a colorful bandanna around your dog's neck and set a small cowboy head wear on the top of her head. Make sure a cowboy hat is normally small and lightweight with a narrow adaptable headband. You can give up here or moreover depending on your dog's size, add a infant's play gun holster around his lessen body and while you're watching hind legs.

A Baby Dog Fancy dress costume: Place a baby hood on your dog's brain and dress them in baby attire then place your canine friend baby in a babe carriage. Little girls adore this one.

Super Sensei Pet Costume: Capes are super easy to earn for your pet and also you could just acquire one and wrap it around a dog's neck. Select Super Dog, Search engine spider Dog or even that Green Hornet Pet. Get creative because of this idea and then add of your own touches.

Little league Player Dog Costume outfit: Buy a large or even small football hat of your favorite power team and put it on your canine with his or your girlfriend front legs on the arm holes. At this moment you have a real organization player!

Prisoner Pup Costume: Buy a whitened t-shirt that will in shape your dog and with black color spray paint add more black stripes with the t-shirt. You might perhaps be able to find a written agreement striped shirt that could work. With a mathematical stencil or just cost-free hand using a sharpie, write your dog's inmate number over the back. Now spot a white restrict on his top of your head with the words TERRIBLE DOG or CAPTIVE written on the top of the glass.

Robin Hood Puppy Costume: This is a extremely cute outfit for your little mate. Using green experienced, make a cape which can be as long as your dog's back but would not touch the ground to the sides. Make sure this cape can be linked around the dog's guitar's neck. Measure your dog's head and with exactly the same green felt develop a sailor type crown that is folded on the edges along with glue or stitch a feather upon the hat.

Softball Player Dog Costume for halloween: All you need to make this particular costume is to get hold of a baseball shirt inside of a boy's or males size, depending on the sizing of your dog, as well as a baseball cap to fit. You may want to attach stretchy to the baseball cover so that it will stay within your dog's head. Site your dog's facade legs through the abs of the shirt together with button it upward.

Doctor Dog Halloween costume: With a lab dress or white tee shirt without tails and additionally kid's doctor set, your dog can be a medical professional for Halloween. Sew 2 or 3 pockets sideways of the shirt so they are on together sides of your pet dog. In the pockets site items such as a stethoscope, band aids and so forth Place your dog's doctor name for the name tag in addition to attach it for the label of the research coat or t shirt.

Lady Bug Pet dog Costume: Using white felt, cut your felt into a lovely lady bug shape and next add a tie on the top bar to go around a person's dog's neck. Right now using black was feeling, cut out round of golf dots and sew them to the red-colored bug shaped cape. Make a little top to fit your dogs scalp and add modest bug eyes along with antennae. Stitch your strip of thinner elastic to the level so that it will stay upon your dog's head.

Ballerina Dog Costume: Only just buy a tutu for the girl dog. Always make sure it fits appropriately or sew this so it does. Perhaps adding elastic going without running shoes might do the trick.

Putting on a costume your dog for Bloody halloween is fun to suit your needs but not always interesting for your dog. Below are a few simple guidelines thus dressing up your pet inside dog Halloween costumes can be more enjoyable for each of you.

The most important thing to remember is usually to always choose a family pet costume that will on no account obstruct your dog's senses, such as inhaling, seeing and ability to hear. Make sure the dog halloween costume doesn't fit much too tightly around the the neck and throat. Do

References

Dog fashion

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dog_fashion

[normal-bias]

Demonstration Tape • Head Cleaner Tape • National Panasonic • T-13846