#i have zero range in my music taste

[theredheaddevil]

tank ya for the tag :) ik most fok will probs just be running this thru spotify or something but im a sound cloud plebian so its what ik ive heard multipletimes this week 1. am i fixed yet - silent theory 2. wake up hate - monster 3. what are the odds - silent theory 4. promise - crooked teeth 5. basement - gemini syndrome 6. kool aid - bring me the horizon 7. good bye almond eyes 8. violence - a fall to break 9. Seek Irony - Devil in Me 10. midnight hands - rise against

as you can maybe guess, ive been on a postal kick again and working on some spencejack stuff

Tagged by: @zeldamacgregor

Top 10 most played songs at this time.

This is tough.

Hmmm…

Okay, let’s go. In no particular order…

1. Bright Lights — Thirty Seconds To Mars

2. Iridescent — Linkin Park

3. Zombie — Ran-D

4. Chasing Cars — Snow Patrol

5. Irrelevant — Pink

6. I Want To Break Free — Queen

7. I Want It All — Queen

8. Demons — Imagine Dragons

9. Midnight Show — The Killers

10. Yellow — Coldplay

Tagging (no pressure): @skinnyscottishbloke @ineffabildaddy @bildads-shoes @ritz-writes @tragic-cosmic-magic @xxxtosoxxx @shadesofdeviant @amagnificentobsession @2davethefish @peachworthy @crowleys-hips

[cruel-seduction]

A World Without You

(Picture taken from Pinterest)

Pairing - Peter Parker x Female Reader

Genre - Angst 

Summary: When Peter Parker wakes up in a world where Y/N never existed, he thinks he's been given the gift of freedom—no one to put in danger. But as the emptiness of her absence consumes him, Peter begins to question the cost of his choice. How far will he go to bring Y/N back, and who—or what—was behind her disappearance in the first place? Can Peter undo the deal he made, or is he trapped in a world where love never existed?

Glimpse - He thought back to their last conversation, where Y/N had called him a "Nerd" for winning at chess everytime, to which he’d fired back, calling them "a hopeless case with zero taste in music."

Warnings: This story contains heavy angst and emotional distress, exploring themes of loneliness, guilt, and the consequences of difficult choices. It also includes elements of reality distortion and manipulation, which may be unsettling for some readers. Proceed with caution if you're sensitive to intense emotional scenarios.

***

Peter Parker woke up with a start. His heart pounded in his chest, the remnants of a nightmare clinging to his mind like a fading mist. His body ached in places he didn’t know could hurt. The city skyline blinked outside his window as it always did, but something about the silence felt…off. He rubbed his face, trying to shake off the strange unease gnawing at his gut. It wasn’t unusual for Peter to wake up in a cold sweat after a brutal night of web-swinging, but this time was different. The feeling lingered like a whisper he couldn’t quite hear.

He groaned, rolling out of bed and pulling on a T-shirt. Maybe some breakfast would help clear his head. He padded barefoot into the kitchen, expecting to hear the familiar hum of Y/N’s terrible music playing in the background as they whipped up something quick before heading out. But the apartment was eerily quiet. Too quiet.

“Babe?” he called, only half-expecting a response. Silence. Peter frowned. It wasn’t like Y/N to leave without saying goodbye, even when they had early shifts. Maybe she’s at work already.

But the more Peter looked around, the more he realised something was wrong. The photos on the fridge—the ones of him and Y/N from their last disastrous attempt at a beach day—were gone. He checked the living room; no sign of Y/N’s jacket, their shoes, or the usual clutter that always accumulated near the door. Where the hell are they?

The sinking feeling in Peter’s chest deepened as he began to search the apartment. Their stuff was gone. All of it.

Peter’s mind raced. Has Y/N left him? No, that didn’t make sense. Things had been good between them. They always were, even when they fought. And their playful insults were never serious, just the way they communicated. He thought back to their last conversation, where Y/N had called him a "Nerd" for winning at chess everytime, to which he’d fired back, calling them "a hopeless case with zero taste in music."

But there was love in every jab, every joke. He knew Y/N didn’t mean any of it, and he didn’t either. It was their love language—twisting insults into affection in the way only they could. He could still hear their laugh in his mind, could still feel the way Y/N would poke him in the ribs after a particularly savage comeback.

But now, that warmth is gone. All of it.

Peter’s head was spinning. He pulled out his phone and quickly dialled Y/N’s number. The line rang once, twice, and then, “The number you’ve dialled is not in service.”

Not in service?

Peter’s stomach flipped. He called again, and the same automated voice greeted him. Panic rose in his throat. He rushed outside and knocked on the neighbour’s door.

“Hey, Mrs. Martinez, have you seen Y/N today? She—” Peter began, but Mrs. Martinez gave him a confused look.

“Y/N? Who’s Y/N?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Peter’s heart skipped a beat. “You know…my—my girlfriend? The person I live with?” he stammered, his voice unsteady. Mrs. Martinez’s frown deepened.

“I’ve lived here for twenty years, Peter. I’ve never seen you with anyone. You live alone.”

Peter’s world tilted. What?

The words hit him like a punch to the gut. He tried to laugh it off, but the horror was sinking in. “You’ve—of course you’ve seen them, Mrs. Martinez. She is always around…”

But the older woman shook her head sympathetically, patting him on the shoulder. “You’ve had a tough week, sweetheart. Maybe you need to take it easy.” She retreated back into her apartment, leaving Peter standing there, frozen.

He sprinted back to his place, his thoughts racing. What the hell is going on?

He fumbled for his laptop, searching through his social media, his phone photos, anything—anything—that could prove Y/N existed. But there was nothing. Not a single picture, no text messages, no memories captured on his phone. It was like they had been erased.

Peter’s chest heaved with panic. This can’t be real.

But it was.

As the day dragged on, the nightmare didn’t end. It only got worse. No one—no one—remembered Y/N. Their friends, their coworkers, even Aunt May looked confused when Peter mentioned their name.

Peter slumped onto the couch, staring blankly at the wall. How is this happening? He gripped his head with both hands, feeling the weight of Y/N’s absence like a suffocating blanket. He didn’t know if it was magic, science, or something worse.

But the silence? The emptiness?

It was unbearable.

At first, he had thought maybe—just maybe—this was for the best. Y/N was safe, right? Without him in their life, without Spider-Man lurking in the background, they wouldn’t be in danger. They wouldn’t have to deal with late-night patch-ups, watching him stumble in bruised and bloodied, hearing him apologise over and over for missing dinner or forgetting plans because someone needed saving.

But this wasn’t peace. This was torment.

Peter thought back to the moments they’d shared, the playful insults and sarcastic remarks that only drew them closer. He remembered Y/N’s smile when they called him a "complete idiot" after he bungled a dinner reservation. Or the time he jokingly told them to "Haww!! You are only with me for that ass" when she tried to help him fix his suit and squeezed his ass in teasinf way. The way Y/N had thrown a pillow at his head, laughing the whole time.

He missed it. All of it. The teasing, the arguments, the late-night takeout dinners where they’d bicker about who had worse taste in movies.

And now…he had nothing.

Peter couldn’t stay here. Not in this reality.

The thought gnawed at him—how had he ended up here? He hadn’t done anything out of the ordinary. Sure, he’d been toying with new tech from Oscorp, but nothing experimental. Nothing that should have thrown him into some alternate dimension. Then, in a flash, a memory surfaced.

The last night he spent with Y/N before everything changed. A strange figure had appeared—someone with no face, no form, just a voice. A voice that had whispered to him about choices, about the dangers of loving someone so deeply while being Spider-Man. At the time, Peter had brushed it off, thinking it was just the stress talking, some weird fever dream. But what if…?

What if that figure had done this? Created a world where Y/N never existed?

Peter had to find answers. He had to get Y/N back. He couldn’t stay in a place where every corner, every sound reminded him of what he’d lost. The weight of their absence crushed him more each second.

As he sat there, planning his next move, Peter realised something chilling. The figure—whoever they were—had offered him a choice that night. A chance to live without burdening the people he loved with Spider-Man’s dangers. And in a moment of weakness, of exhaustion, maybe Peter had unknowingly made that deal.

But he hadn’t meant it.

Peter Parker was no stranger to guilt. He’d lived with it every day since Uncle Ben died. But this? This was different. This was the pain of choosing to save someone by erasing them entirely.

He couldn’t undo what had happened on his own. He needed to find the entity who had done this and force them to undo it. But first, he had to survive in a world that was a constant reminder of what he’d lost.

And that meant holding onto the memories of Y/N. The real memories.

He could hear Y/N’s voice in his head now: “Peter, you absolute dumbass, you know you can’t live without me, right?” He could imagine the smirk that came with it, the light in their eyes when they teased him.

“Yeah, well,” Peter muttered to the empty room, his voice cracking. “Turns out you’re right.”

Peter sat in the deafening silence of his apartment, his mind running in a thousand directions. Y/N was gone. No one remembered her, as if she'd never existed. And the only explanation he could cling to was that entity—that faceless, shadowy figure from the night before everything changed. A vague memory whispered at the back of his mind, telling him that he’d been offered a choice. But how could he have agreed to something so horrifying?

The truth, as much as it made him sick, was simple: Peter had been desperate. He’d been exhausted, weighed down by guilt and fear, always worrying about Y/N’s safety. Every time she patched him up after a fight, every time she stayed up late waiting for him to come home, Peter felt that gnawing fear that one day, she wouldn’t be there anymore. And for one brief, weak moment, the thought of her being safe—being away from Spider-Man’s world—had seemed like a blessing.

But he hadn’t realized the cost. Not like this. Not the emptiness.

Peter shot out of his chair, pacing the apartment as a plan started to form in his mind. He had to find the entity. That much was clear. This wasn’t just some glitch in reality; this was a deliberate choice—a deal made between him and something far more powerful. But if Peter had the power to get himself into this mess, then he had to have the power to get out.

First, he needed answers. How did he find the entity again?

Peter remembered that it hadn’t come from nowhere. The figure had appeared while he was messing around with Oscorp’s tech, but it wasn’t just any tech. It had been an experimental quantum destabilizer—a device meant to measure energy fluctuations between different dimensions. Harry Osborn had been talking about it for weeks, trying to figure out if they could tap into the multiverse for...who knows what. Science had never been Peter's strong suit, but he had a hunch that the entity had slipped through during one of those experiments.

Multiverse. The word hit him like a truck.

Was this even his universe anymore? Or was he trapped in another reality where Y/N had never existed?

Peter’s heart raced at the possibility. If Y/N was truly gone—not just from his life but from all universes—he might never get her back. But if she still existed somewhere, in some timeline, then Peter would burn through every dimension until he found her.

He knew the first place to start: Oscorp.

Later that night, after slipping into his Spider-Man suit, Peter swung across the city towards Oscorp Tower. It was late, the city’s streets quieter than usual, but Peter’s mind was anything but calm. He landed on the roof and quickly made his way inside, avoiding security cameras with the ease of someone who had done it countless times before.

The lab was exactly how he remembered it—rows of cold, gleaming equipment, the soft hum of high-tech machinery filling the air. But Peter wasn’t interested in the usual tools. He needed the quantum destabilizer.

Peter found it stashed away in a corner, covered in dust. He hooked it up to the main computer and started running a search for energy signatures. If that entity had come from another universe, there had to be some kind of residual trace left behind.

As the machine hummed to life, Peter’s thoughts drifted back to Y/N. Why had he said yes to losing her? In that moment, when the entity had whispered in his ear, offering him peace, safety, an escape from the constant fear of Y/N being hurt...he had caved. He’d thought it was a way to protect her.

But now he realized how wrong he’d been. Protecting Y/N wasn’t about keeping her away—it was about fighting alongside her, loving her despite the risks. Peter had always known that deep down, but fear had clouded his judgment. He’d chosen what he thought was the easy way out, but now he would do anything—anything—to undo it.

The machine beeped, jolting him from his thoughts. The screen flickered, showing a faint, pulsing signature. Peter’s heart raced as he recognized the same strange energy from that night. It wasn’t from his universe. The entity had come from somewhere else.

He plugged in the coordinates, knowing that if he followed the trail, it would lead him to the source—to the entity.

The next night, Peter swung through a dim, fog-covered alley deep in the city. The air felt thick, heavy with something unnatural. He could sense it—the same strange energy signature he'd tracked.

And then, like stepping through a veil, the air around him shimmered, and the entity appeared. A swirling mass of shadow, faceless and formless, its voice an eerie whisper that seemed to echo inside Peter’s head.

“You seek to undo what you asked for, Spider-Man?”

Peter’s jaw clenched. “You tricked me. I didn’t know what I was agreeing to.”

The entity’s voice hissed, low and mocking. “I offered you peace. I offered you freedom. You accepted.”

“I didn’t want this!” Peter shouted, his fists trembling. “I didn’t want to lose her! I—” His voice broke. “I love her.”

“Love is weakness,” the entity whispered. “It makes you vulnerable. It clouds your judgment. I gave you a world free from that burden.”

“Love makes me strong,” Peter said, his voice filled with determination. “I don’t want a world where Y/N doesn’t exist. I want her with me, in all her imperfect, wonderful chaos. And I’m going to fight you until you bring her back.”

The entity laughed—a sound that rattled the very air around him. “You think you can fight me, Spider-Man? I am beyond your comprehension. I am the architect of realities. I gave you a gift.”

Peter’s eyes hardened beneath the mask. “Then I’ll take it back.”

Without another word, Peter launched himself at the entity, his fists glowing with the energy from the quantum destabilizer. But the entity was fast, shifting and slipping through his grasp like smoke. Every time Peter thought he had it cornered, it would reform behind him, taunting him with whispers.

“You will fail,” it hissed. “I am all-powerful. You are nothing but a boy pretending to be a hero.”

Peter gritted his teeth, focusing on the entity’s movements. It might be powerful, but it had a weakness—every entity did. He just had to find it. And then, as the entity shifted again, Peter saw it—a flicker in its form, a moment where it hesitated.

That hesitation was all he needed.

Peter leaped into the air, firing a blast from the destabilizer at the exact moment the entity began to reform. The energy crackled, surging through the entity’s form. It screamed, its voice splitting the air like thunder. Peter didn’t let up, pouring everything he had into the attack. He thought of Y/N’s laugh, her smile, the way she called him out on his worst habits, the way she never let him get away with anything. All the moments they shared.

And then, with a final surge of energy, the entity shattered. The air around Peter shifted, reality bending and warping.

Peter collapsed to the ground, panting. For a moment, everything was still.

When he opened his eyes, Peter was lying on his apartment floor, the sunlight streaming through the window. His heart pounded in his chest. Was it real? Did he actually get her back?

“Peter? Why are you on the floor, you weirdo?”

His heart stopped. That voice—it was Y/N. He turned his head slowly, and there she was, standing in the doorway of the kitchen, holding a mug of coffee and looking at him with a raised eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips.

“Y/N…” His voice cracked as he scrambled to his feet, pulling her into his arms.

“Whoa, whoa!” Y/N laughed, clearly surprised. “What’s gotten into you? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I thought I lost you,” Peter whispered into her hair, holding her tight as if she might disappear again.

Y/N snorted, pulling back to look him in the eye. “Lost me? Please, Parker. You’re stuck with me, whether you like it or not. Now, stop being a dramatic idiot and help me make breakfast,”

Peter laughed, a tear slipping down his cheek as he smiled at her. “You can call me useless all you want.”

Y/N gave him a puzzled look. “What’s gotten into you?”

Peter just shook his head, kissing her forehead. “I love you.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Okay, now I’m worried.Is something wrong, babe?”

He laughed again. “Nah. Just…never leave, okay?”

Y/N smiled, her usual sarcastic grin lighting up her face. “I wasn’t planning on it. But you know, I could leave if you keep talking like a sappy idiot.”

“Shut up,” Peter muttered, pulling her closer. “I’m serious.”

“Fine, fine, I’ll stay,” Y/N teased, poking his chest. “But only because you’re the dumbest, nerdiest superhero I’ve ever met.”

Peter chuckled, finally feeling whole again. He had Y/N back. He’d fought for her, and now, he wasn’t letting go.

He never would.

[lesbianrobin]

ok since people r very into my chris fic i shall share some of my random behind the scenes thoughts while writing it:

adriana has literally been waiting her entire life for her obviously gay older brother who joined the army to avoid his wife and then moved to los angeles to be a sexy firefighter to COME OUT ALREADY and by the time we meet her in this fic she is like Vibrating with the need to be like EDDIE IS GAYYYYYYY ARE YOU PEOPLE BLIND??? which is why it takes like absolutely zero prodding from chris for her to spill all of eddie's business. i think when eddie was little he was a very obviously gay little boy and as he grew up he learned how to Be Normal but adriana never forgot and she's like deeply sad about it.

chris is So fucking miserable at his grandparents' house he misses video games so bad. i couldn't find a way to really incorporate this without it feeling like a cheap "look he's a TEEN BOY" thing but yeah the second he gets back home he is slamming that headset on and gaming until eddie tells him he has to take a break or he'll burn his eyes out of his sockets.

there are a Lot of songs on buck and eddie's joint depression playlist that i listed and then cut for practicality's sake but if there's any like interest in that i could maybe put together + link the full playlist for y'all?

buck's "maddie" playlist is entirely music he listened to growing up bc it makes him think of her. as a younger sibling my music taste from birth to like. age fifteen ish. was just wholly whatever my older sister listened to and i think buck is the same way. i don't think buck necessarily listens to this playlist on his own very often but if he's hanging out with maddie and/or babysitting jee-yun he'll put it on because it makes him happy to enjoy some 90s/00s nostalgia with his best girls. sometimes he'll play it in the car when he's driving chris somewhere because he wants to carry forward some of those good memories he has with maddie with chris.

buck and eddie's texts were written in order to coincide with each other! eddie texts more frequently than buck but i think if you pay attention you can sometimes tell which days buck Also sent chris a text bc they match. some of them were sent specifically in the wake of very emotionally taxing shifts where they both wanted so badly to call chris and beg him to come home but they knew that wouldn't go well and they didn't want to make chris feel guilty so they tried to play it cool.

speaking of buck and eddie: i don't think that eddie's conversation with chris is necessarily the First step in eddie realizing he's gay or moving toward something romantic with buck. keep in mind that chris has been gone for at least two weeks by the time he talks to either of them, and buck and eddie spend the vast majority of their time together. this fic is restricted to chris' pov, and he has no way of knowing whether, say, buck and tommy broke up, or whether his dad has been thinking about some things differently since he's been gone. buck and eddie Also have to spend twelve hours in a car together just the two of them between the end of the fic and their reunion with chris. this is not me saying that buck and tommy DID break up or that buddie got together while chris was away (i don't actually have a solid "canon" for where they're at), just that i intentionally left space for a wide range of possibilities due to chris' limited knowledge of what's going on with them!!

i kinda intentionally did not delve too deeply into the psychology of the diaz parents here because i think their behavior is a bit inscrutable to chris. the vast majority of his memories of them are from when he was really little, and therefore i think he doesn't actually know them very well as people. he knows that there's some tension between them and eddie, but prior to this fic he never really bothered to question Why. all he knows is that his grandparents will probably come and get him if he calls, and that it'll hurt his dad's feelings, and in the immediate aftermath of the kim debacle that's all he cares about. once he's in el paso, he starts noticing some things that make him a bit uncomfortable, but he never does determine for sure what their motivations and opinions are about this whole situation, whether they're treating him a certain way bc he's the grandkid or bc of his cerebral palsy, and whether their treatment of eddie really does stem from homophobia or not. at the end of the day he's thirteen years old and i wanted to leave his grandparents' True Selves as a bit of a mystery because 1. i don't think They necessarily know why they do what they do and 2. i don't think there's any one answer that would be satisfying.

chris literally had zero intention of saying anything to eddie about the Gay Thing he just is very much thirteen years old and emotional and he fundamentally Trusts his father to never like. lash out at him for saying something like that. so he doesn't try too hard to hold it back and impulsively says Hey Dad Are You Gay Maybe because he's never gone so long without talking to his dad before and he's just bursting with thoughts and feelings. he's not even trying to do a buddie matchmaking thing it's just that the easiest way to make his argument is to be like (points at buck).

[thats-the-teen-spirit]

Linkin Park - From Zero - Album Review

Well, a few months ago I didn't think that I would write such a review but here we go. So Linkin Park announced their return in September followed by a tour and an album, to everyone's surprise. The new singer after the great Chester Bennington's passing was announced to be the former Dead Sara vocalist, Emily Armstrong. The announcement was followed by many controversies which I'm not gonna touch on in this review, I'm just here, purely for the music, so take all my opinions with a grain of salt.

From Zero (Intro)

A very short, barely even 20 seconds intro is a Queen-like gang vocal/choir harmony followed by Emily asking about the name of the album. It sounds like they recorded her first reaction to Mike's idea for the album name, which is - as Mike mentioned many times throughout the promotion of the album - a double entendre. From Zero means from the ground up, a new beginning which is definitely true for the band after losing a beloved former member and a friend, but also From Xero which was the first name of the predecessor band of Linkin Park. It's genius if you think about it, and by the short and cut end of the intro Emily realizes this as well.

2. The Emptiness Machine

The first single and the song that started the return. The video and the song are both great, though it left a sour taste in some fans' mouth, expecting either a Chester-imitation or someone completely different (rumors were Amy Lee and Deryck Whibley). The Emptiness Machine opens up with a modern beat and Mike's rapping, he even sings the first chorus hinting at something new to come. The second verse starts with Emily singing and while at first I thought she lacks the power Chester had, by the end of the second chorus she proves her place is right among the boys. The lyrics are about an abusive relationship to someone or something which left people thinking about Emily's past (imo the lyrics definitely fit into Linkin Park's past catalogue as well). The passion of the last chorus and the "I only wanted to be part of something" bridge will leave you wondering though: how would this song sound with Chester?

3. Cut the Bridge

Already a non-single with a choppy hard rock riff and octaves, Mike starts rapping and you realize this is definitely a Linkin Park song. In my personal opinion this sound would have fit into The Hunting Party as well as this album. I'm not the biggest fan of the chorus but it's a fun song that might get a few headbangs at concerts. Emily definitely carries this song, the bridge melody by Mike is... not the best, a little jarring and does not fit his vocal style and range. We'll hear a few moments like that in the coming songs.

4. Heavy Is The Crown

Heavy Is The Crown was the second single and the anthem of this year's League of Legends championship which gave to already one of the biggest bands of the planet some extra boost of publicity. If I had to describe this song with old Linkin Park songs I would say this is a renewed version of Faint with the breakdown of Given Up. The beat and the melody throughout the song is very Meteora-era and the "THIS IS WHAT YOU ASKED FOR" breakdown pretty much calls out the fans who wanted a nu-metal banger. It's like they knew their return was controversial and they have to do the maximum nostalgia factor to appeal to the same audience that once loved them. Emily shows her real power in this one, letting out the beast and hinting at what's coming.

5. Over Each Other

A pure Emily song and the third single. Mike is not singing nor rapping in this one, and in the video we see Emily being in a relationship, breaking up and fighting with her girlfriend until the story takes a dark turn when she fakes her own death to get away from her now ex-girlfriend. It's a very honest and upbeat song that really arrives by the second half. The lyrics show a burnt-out relationship that seems to be over soon. This one I cannot even imagine with Chester's vocals, which is the first and the last time this happened during this album. The instrumentals in the second half are (in my personal opinion) very much Minutes to Midnight-like, almost as if Rick Rubin produced this one as well.

6. Casualty

Undoubtedly the heaviest one on the record, there's barely any clean vocals, (even Mike is shouting for most of the song) and there's even a hardcore punk beat in it. This is basically like their song Victimized was on The Hunting Party instead of Living Things. The guitars and drums are filled with rage and in the bridge we hear a new sound from Emily which is very In This Moment/Maria Brink. I didn't expect a hardcore song by Linkin Park but in 2024 even that could happen.

7. Overflow

After a very lengthy intro the song arrives to a space-y, flowy verse which is reminiscent of Deftones and I.O.U, the song Mike recorded with Chino Moreno off his solo record, Post Traumatic. The chorus keeps up the same slow pace and by the bridge I figured that this song would be very fitting to A Thousand Suns. Which is possibly the only song on this record that I can say this about. Like a more modern version of a medley of that album, strange sound and it's not gonna be my most listened song but I think it will find its audience.

8. Two-Faced

Ever wanted to hear a Meteora/Hybrid Theory song sung by a female singer? Well, here you go. Imagine if Figure.09, A Place for My Head and One Step Closer got together on a drunk night and had a lovechild. The verses are also very much like Nobody's Listening, another song from Meteora. The breakdown is so much fanservice to the HT fans that it's almost exactly the One Step Closer riff (even the turntables are there). This will be one of my favorites for sure, it gives me that Cure for The Itch for a old-new HT sound. The fans who can get over to be ready for the new era of the band and only love the first album will be happy to hear this one.

9. Stained

Another song that is hard carried by Emily's vocals, I swear it's like they're doing this on purpose. Mike is one of my favorite songwriters and musicians but man, is he boring in this song. This is the first song where I felt like it's a filler. Chorus melody is alright especially in the last one where it's much more epic, but the verses, the instrumental and the overall vibe of this song is very forgettable. If I wanted to be really harsh I would say, this one is a more pop-ish song of One More Light got rerecorded with a different vocalist and distorted guitars.

10. IGYEIH

IGYEIH or I Gave You Everything I Had is another heavy banger. The riff is very nu metal, reminding me of Burn by Three Days Grace. It's another one that Emily is carrying on her back, her performance is 110% again. Mike's "the clock keeps tickiiiiing" call-ins are very much forced, and in my opinion lack chemistry with the rest of the song. The yea-yea-yea-s by Emily are also somewhat forced before the chorus, the buildup and the breakdown are great though. It's not as mid as Stained but I honestly expected better from the riff.

11. Good Things Go

Probably my favorite song of the album, straight up. The modern rap beat and Mike's work on the rapping and the wonderful vocals by Emily make this composition a pleasure to listen to. Some people I saw online compared it to Leave Out All The Rest, I don't think that is true. While this is a ballad of some sort having very emotional lyrics, it's an unfair comparison to LOATR. The delivery by both Mike and Emily is amazing though and the buildup is one of my favorites of this year, it's both relieving and cathartic. This is this album's take on Good Goodbye and this one undoubtedly wins both the message and the delivery battle.

Overall I'm not gonna lie, I expected more. Upon the second listen I realized that I lost recency bias already. Some moments turned out to be probably the worst in their catalogue while others were highlights of this year's musical journey for me. The singles are definitely the stand-out songs, though Good Things Go and Two-Faced are up among them. Emily carried most of the songs as I mentioned many times before and it's clear that the band's intention was to make the audience love her as much as they loved working with her, even if this effort cast a dark shadow on the rest of the bands' performance.

7/10

[shimakaze-revivalism]

this year i've been doing a lot of stuff that i didn't mean to do, and not doing a lot of stuff that i did mean to do. i got involved with the kink scene, i deepened my familiarity with carbonated beverages, i ate a lot of fried chicken sandwiches, i started reading again, and i played a lot of gacha.

and speaking of gacha, the only one that stuck with me from the decent-sized crop that i sampled this year was mihoyo's zenless zone zero! what to say about it . . . it's a Real Game, for one. it manages to shed the unsheddable "rubbishy" feel that is almost universal to gacha. its premise is like if andy and leyley were normal and worked as shadowrun hackers in jet set radio tokyo, in a semi-apocalyptic world where the only people around are orphans, anthros, or both. there are also sentient automatons that have cool outfits, and chubby baby bunny robots, but unfortunately neither of them have rights. it's got a really cool soundtrack, a charming spiderversesque look, and characters i found surprisingly compelling.

new music! well, new to me at least. you know ben and jerry's cherry garcia (possibly the most prominent contemporary cherry-focused ice cream flavor)? well jerry garcia was a guy who had this band that old men loved called the grateful dead. and well, i don't really care for what i've heard of their records to be honest. but it must be said that they were a jam band, and the 16 minute terrapin station gives one a taste of what i assume was the sensory height of a real-life hippy's experience, and i can imagine listening to it for decades to come.

indeed, if one wants a meal in the proggy realm rather than a bite, it's best to look to the guys that do that stuff all the time across the pond. Morgan put me on to electric wizard and their impeccable self-titled album has been in heavy rotation since. jackie put me on to yes' album relayer, and the first track provides the rarefied pleasure of hearing the singer of the irrepressibly lighthearted and goofy jojo anime ED "roundabout" trill about bathing in the blood of one's enemies.

in more occasional listening i have to rep my oshi 星街彗星 (hoshimachi suisei). her consistently strong body of work ranges from saccharine, to heartfelt, to sort of diva-core. listen, it's increasingly popular to reference hatsune miku, and it's often done with a sort of surface-level appreciation of miku, riding off of the long history miku has in overseas otaku culture. i myself have participated in this. but step outside the bit with me here. miku is a synth, an instrument. miku has all the humanity of the DX7. in fact that's what her color scheme is based on (because yamaha made both miku and the DX7)! hoshimachi suisei . . . listen, maybe people aren't ready. but she really is a virtual pop star. she's iconic. she's got a sigma grindset. she has a favorite food and a sister and friends and it's not lore it's reality. she's not a prop owned by a company, but an autonomous performer! miku is a virtual girl. suisei has a virtual face, but she's a real woman with a real dream! won't you believe in it?

staying with japanese affairs for a moment, anime has been good too! gushing over magical girls, perfect show, hannibal for anime girls, delightful and heartfelt. i also watched the vexations of a shut-in vampire princess, which was frenetic, lightning fast and kind of stupid, but i eagerly await another season. both extremely lesbian.

looking ahead, i'm extremely excited for the release of the alters, a game whose demo caught me completely off-guard, and i'm also excited to try the early access release of marmoreal, a sort of isometric completely touhoucore game with so much charm and sincerity.

that's my little roundup! have a great september!

[ohmyohmygosh]

Looking for a Partner (a male top)

Click here if you're interested. 23+. minors do not interact. 

Hello, I hope this e-mail found you well.

This is my first time posting something in Tumblr, so do forgive me if it doesn't look pleasing to the eyes.

October is approaching, which means some of the best holidays are just around the corner—wouldn't it be nice to spend it with someone? I just recently got some time to roleplay again and thus I steeled myself and posted this advertisement. also because joining a place and having so many dms always get me overwhelmed and lazy.

At the moment I am just looking for someone to make some memories with and companionship. the things that we do can range from watching movies, listening to music, playing games, anything really. But what's important for me at the moment is someone that I can write freely with; from cuddling, dates, etc. 

I would expect my partner to be semi literate and can write in detail, since I tend to write in somewhat of a lengthy paragraph—but do not worry, I can also write short or casual text when the times are appropriate or any of us get a bit too busy with life.

I am of age OOC, 23+, and would prefer for my partner to also be 23+. at the moment I am in gmt +8 (planning to move to gmt - sometimes next year), and mostly active during the night time because of work. There will be times at night where my reply comes periodically because sometimes I do play video games with my friends, but I will still reply whenever I can. That includes the day time. Also I don't mind my partner being in the minus gmt, we will just communicate things properly.

My limits for kinks and anything sexual are varied, and honestly still looking into it. I am very much open to anything, including taboo things like age gap, etc., but my big turn off is scat and urine. we can discuss our limits and the rest once we agree to writing. I am a very honest and transparent person, so I expect you to do the same and not play the guessing game with me when it comes to your likes and dislikes, and also what you are feeling at the moment.

Speaking of guessing games, this is very important to me, because I am the worst when it comes to reading someone. When I become comfortable with someone, I tend to be very playful and not know when to stop with my teasing and everything, so do tell me if it gets too much or if you are simply not in the mood.

for cafe claims, currently my muse are Jang Wonyoung of IVE, Winter of Aespa, Ricky, Gunwook and Zhanghao of Zero Base O1, Doyoung of NCT,  and Sohee and Wonbin of RIIZE and I heavily bottom, but I don't mind topping if I must (though I'll be using my male FC for that). I don't have any preferent with whom my partner will be, but here are some face claims that are my current obsession:

✦ Zero Base 01's Jiwoong ✦ Actor Song Kang  ✦ NCT's Jaehyun, Johnny, and Jisung ✦ Riize's Sungchan and Anton ✦ NCT's Mingyu and Dokyeom ✦ Astro’s Cha Eunwoo ✦ TXT's Soobin

Generally I am attracted to tall guys with softer looks (yes something about this video changed the chemistry in my brain), so if the names that I suggest don't suit your taste, do feel free to be anyone that you want, please make sure to let me know beforehand. Also do keep in mind that the age gap before our character should be between 7 to 10 years.

As for the medium, I prefer to be using Instagram because I’ve been using it for a long time. So please do not try to make me learn another medium, unfortunately I don’t have the time.

If you find this e-mail to be intriguing or have more questions you want to ask, please send me a private message containing a small introduction about yourself, including the face claim you’ll be using, and account to your Instagram account.

With love, ohmyohmygosh

[banana-split-bitch-club]

THE UNIVERSE IS YOUR STAGE- PERFORM! AND DONT WORRY, WE’RE ALL HERE FOR THE SHOW. 🐩💘👛🐽🦄🐝🐝🐥🪼 ♥︎☆🝊𐬾

personal blogpost navi: pecanpie.sermon 💫 :)

PATIENT ZERO: PECAN

*bubble gum pops* HELLO AGAIN tumblr nation…it’s your favorite truckstop whore in the flesh.. nyeah………ANYWAYS. For those who haven’t come to know me my names pecan and I run a church (my blog) where we smoke newports and attend sermons (whatever bullshit posts I have to give) PLEASE! Make yourselves at home- the body of Christ is a gift that keeps on giving.

Specimen Info:

-My name is pecan, and I also sometimes go as pecanpie. Other aliases include: Cherry Ferry Fantasia. Choose wisely how you refer to me- or don’t, I don’t even exist!

-I’m 19 and female, you can use whatever pronouns when referring to me, but I usually go by she/her 🪭🪭🪭

-ADHD

-aroace, with a hint of bisexuality.

-My hobbies include: drawing, writing (though I rarely ever do finish my pieces let alone publish them) collecting worthless garbage, listening to music and blowing my eardrums out, being an eternal pain in the ass to deal with, thrifting, sitting on porches, smoking winstons, masquerading as a sane individual, dressing up, and trying out new things because I am an avid dopamine chaser. woohoo!

Things I like: Pretentious media, throwing pitchforks at rich priests, consumerism, otome games, douma, buddhism, echo rose, religious studies, args, reaching divinity, shitty manga, maximalism in every sense, bedazzled stuff, money, getting tacky nails, the roaring 20’s, 1950’s femme fashion, old era aesthetics, boutique shops, leopard print, grandma couches, Hollywood reality media, Madonna’s American Life album, Smokey eyeshadow, pathetic wet sop characters and a lot more.

-I have two cats, Mochi and Waffles. The bloodline ends with yours truly.

Fandoms I’m currently active in; see bio :)

Movies I like: Pink Flamingos, No Country For Old Men, Helter Skelter, Pulp Fiction, All the Boys Love Mandy Lane, Girl Interrupted, Valerie and Her Week of Wonders, Spun, Gummo, Last Night in Soho, Fruit of Wonder, Elephant (2003), The Royal Tenenbaums - will be updated the more I get my hands on anything new that tickles my fancy.

My taste in music: I’m pretty versatile when it comes to what I prefer, so it could range from bimbo-pop to classical music. Anything that sounds good to me I like. I mostly listen to 50’s housewife songs and lady Gaga, though.

-I’m a big fan of indie art and surrealism. Filmmaking as well. Shaye Saint John and Mouchette.org are a few of my favorites.

-I like mortuary work and autopsies. I hold the death industry in high regards- not everyone is willing to work with corpses.

-huge GIGANTIC douma fan. anything and everything douma related I will not hesitate to engage with, he’s my little guy.

- heart sunglasses ambassador (this is my trademark) ❤️

-Polka dot prints and faux fur are resounding yesses.

-You know Florence? (If you get the reference.)

-I think vintage pill cases are lovely.💋

-I have the response time of a limp dick. I either respond in less than a second or only after 3 business months.

-I’ve been working on my new oc line on and off for a few months now, called FEAR & LOATHING in JERUSALEM. artblock is a massive bitch, but stuff is in progress.

Anyways if you’re a terrible human being feel free to block me, you are not welcome onto my blog thank you very much xoxo (transphobes homophobes ableists you know who you are)

GOT COMPLAINTS? CONTACT ME AT 1-666-JERUSALEM-CRACK-SHACK! Make sure to leave me a message. Business hours only!

MASTERLIST: IN THE WORKS?

[nomsfaultau]

SBI Whumptober prompt 3) Dehumanization and 26) Shock (but only as a pun)

Disclaimer: this blurb is set in the SCP SBI AU I have called Fault, specifically prior to Part 1. Explanation of AU; tldr. 

(Wilbur)

[Exposure to object: ████’s voice may result in physical harm to ear drums. In extreme cases, it causes severe psychological distress that necessitates the termination of Foundation personnel. The objective of this treatment is to reduce the lives and sanities lost containing this anomaly, as its escape would cause countless casualties. 

As it is dangerous to check the content of auditory recordings, success will be measured based on the audio level in room 15021. Report attached below. For further information contact the archives division, but proceed with caution. 

(Legend: 60 dB is normal speaking range; 90 dB is a human scream; at 150 dB ear drums rupture.) 

Treatment introduced at 8:57 AM. No injuries were sustained. Post 9:23, object ████ did not produce volume above that of the 30 dB threshold. Treatment was suspended to permit sustenance intake. Early results are promising.]

— — —

The calming song he’d been humming pooled into the air. Velvety low notes, meaningless lyrics. Wilbur found it soothing. For all that he’d grown up with nothing to his name, music was always his if only because no one could rip it out of his hands like they did everything else. A small rebellion, but it was Wilbur’s, and it was a well-honed act of honey-sweet spite. 

It was a song to forever remain unfinished as footsteps echoed closer. A faint sound, but his gut was well-tuned to it by now. He backed away from the entrance as employees poured into his cell. “Stay still and make this easy or you’ll wish you had, ████.” 

Wilbur bristled at the moniker. “My name is Wilbur,” he snarled, jaw ripping apart into a horrendous, seething mass of teeth. He refused to let them steal his name, too. He wasn’t an object, or an it. For all that the Foundation refused to admit it, Wilbur was a person. 

“Unless you’d like to be tased again, cease the threat display.” The voice was bored for all the fear their words stabbed in Wilbur’s guts. Scowling, he wrenched his jaw back into place, shoving the mandibles to proper alignment with the rest of his skull. 

“So what’s up? Want to stab more needles in? Or, oo, you’re going to send more criminals in to see what happens? You humans really are eager to sacrifice your own,” he said conversationally even as he retreated from the sprawl of guards. Hands seemed to grab him from every direction and Wilbur just had to grit his teeth and bear it. “Come on fellas, there’s really enough of me for everyone, no need to get handsy-” He was scruffed, head shoved down. He suppressed the instinct to rip every one of them to shreds. Unfortunately, by now Wilbur was incredibly familiar with just how extreme Foundation punishments were, and he wasn’t eager to taste them. He’d been behaving, even, which was a tall order for him. All he’d been doing for days now was lay in his cell and hum stupid little songs to himself. Not jeopardizing people or devouring the world whole or anything! It made everything inside him howl, but even Wilbur could learn to submit to authority if the repercussions were extreme enough. 

So when they ordered him to shut up, Wilbur did, even if he had to bite his tongue to manage. Something snapped shut around his throat and he managed to make zero (0) snarky remarks. Phil would be proud. 

Almost immediately, the employees fled. Huh. That was a weirdly short experiment. Wilbur sighed in relief. Eventually, he prodded curiously at the thing around his neck. It was oddly bulky, tight enough to make him conscious of his pulse. What the hell?

A…collar? 

“What th—!?!” the world dissolved into pure agony. A horrific scream tore from his throat as electricity poured through it.

— — —

Legend: Asterix indicates when treatment was applied. Shaded areas average periods where object: ████ was in an inactive state and treatment was deactivated. 

Notes:

Day 1 offers a baseline for audio levels prior to treatment.

Treatment was introduced Day 2. 

Day 2: Volume spike at 21:41. If object: ████ is presumed to have a REM cycle akin to that of a human’s, it is hypothesized the initial increase in decibels was the result of a nightmare. This was an irregularity not accounted for when planning the procedure and thereafter was rectified by discontinuing treatment applications when it slept. 

Object: ████ is not given an artificial night block for obvious reasons and has an irregular sleep schedule. It tends to sleep whenever it collapses from exhaustion. Post 22:00 it was monitored for consciousness.

Day 3: At 3:20 AM it screamed in its sleep again. It did not immediately resume sleeping, instead staying up and continuing to produce sounds. Researcher █████ ███████ bravely volunteered to check the audio in case it was a security risk. Fortunately, researcher █████ ███████ was unharmed and reported it was mimicking vocal sounds ranging from soft humming to crying. It would not cease. At 4:10 treatment was applied to disincentivize exploiting the choice to leave the treatment device inactive during periods of unconsciousness. 

Conclusion: Object: ████ self-regulates volume to levels below 30 dB threshold, which drastically reduces the chance of harm for personnel. 

This Special Containment Procedure has been deemed a success.]

— — —

Wilbur rubbed his aching throat. It hurt, but it felt good to have the shock collar off his neck. Unfortunately, he reckoned the respite would only last the duration of the coming visit with Philza.

The Foundation hated the visits for their security risk. But the threat to humanity was far greater if Philza went unchained, and so they lured him in with promised glimpses of his stolen children. Wilbur hated to be a pawn, but there was nothing any of them could do. Still, he was grateful for the visits. He wouldn’t have lasted this long without them. 

He needed this to be normal. Jokes and quips and jabs and everything he needed to say before his voice was locked up again. Wilbur smiled brightly the moment the door opened and revealed Philza. 

And yet one look and concern spooled in his features. “Are you okay?” 

Yes. But the word never fell from his tongue. It should’ve been an easy lie, but Wilbur’s throat constricted, expecting punishment. Panic set in, this was supposed to be the one time Wilbur was safe and yet he couldn’t speak. His fingers jolted to his throat as if anticipating a shock simply for thinking of trying. 

Philza surged forward, wrapping him in a warm hug. “Hey, hey, I got you. What happened?” Wilbur tried to force out an answer, choking on it. Nothing came out. He tried over and over to speak only for his vocal cords to lock on him. It grew tight to the point of pain as his distress spiked. Philza ran a comforting hand down his back even as Wilbur clawed into him desperately. “You don’t have to tell me, that’s perfectly alright mate. Here, I saved some extra food for you…” 

He curled up with Philza the rest of the visit, sheltered in his arms. It was the closest he’d had to anything resembling safety in weeks. Philza’s heartbeat thumped comfortably from where Wilbur rested on his chest. Quiet, not loud enough to risk a shock. That was safe then. A low, sweet rumble began to vibrate in Philza’s chest, an ancient lullaby spilling over its gentle aegis. 

Wilbur shoved Philza away, terrified the current pouring through his body would be shared. It took a beat to realize there was no voltage forthcoming. Phantom electricity trickled down his spine, but it was all in his head. 

The lullaby stilled on Philza’s tongue. How often had Wilbur heard it as a child, the familiar tune used to lure him to peaceful slumber. It felt like a betrayal that a song that had soothed him so many times before now kindled only fear. Wilbur swallowed roughly, unable to look at Philza. 

“Sorry,” Philza murmured, confused. “I can be quiet?” 

Wilbur shook his head. He didn’t want the Foundation to win like this. Wilbur buried himself in Philza’s embrace, shoving the panic down and forcing himself to feel safe. Claws stroked through his tangled hair, lyrics half tumbled into gentle assurances. Slowly, the vice on his throat eased. Tentatively, he joined the song, so quiet it hurt. His throat ached from all the abuse poured into it, hoarse from disuse. Too far above the echo of a whisper and the fear returned, seizing his voice once more. Still, it got a little easier as the hour spent itself. 

But then the visit was over, and the panic spiked, knowing this might be the last chance he got to speak for the rest of the month. Wilbur pressed his mouth to Philza’s cheek in a parody of a farewell kiss. His words came out ragged and husky and so, so scared.

“I can’t do this anymore, Dad.”

[torchmlp]

Had a four hour car drive yesterday and thought about what monster hunter weapons each of the The Quarry characters would use so please enjoy this analysis of monster hunter weapon type mains and playstyles that literally no one asked for. I'm basing this off of World: Iceborne since it's the game I'm most familiar with.

Jacob:

This himbo would be a greatsword main. It's big, it's clumsy, but it packs one hell of a punch when it lands. Big sword means big damage numbers. He wouldn't use any of the side or rising slashes. It would be true charged slash or nothing, like god intended. He'd forget to block more often than not and get knocked back quite a bit, but he'd land enough hits to do a formidable amount of damage. Also, Kaitlyn would yell at him enough that he'd go after the tail like he's supposed to lol.

Kaitlyn:

My girl would be a light bowgun main. Heavy bowgun would be too slow for her tastes, and while it does do more damage, I could see her giving that up for more maneuverability. I could also see her doing a hardcore sticky build. It'd be five minutes into the fight and she's already got the monster stunned and on the ground. She never misses her shots and would be the one to take the time to tenderize monster parts before absolutely blasting them to shreds.

Depending on the monster, I could also see her doing a DPS spread build. She'd pile on the short-range damage mods and get up close and personal, hitting all the weak spots like the shotgun-wielding queen we know she is.

Any team she'd be on would be formidable, especially if she had someone like Dylan drawing aggro for her.

Dylan:

Our boy has two mains. The first is a defensive lance build. He's up front in center, hiding behind that shield while drawing aggro and taking hits like a champ. He's not a DPS, he's a full on tank, with max defense, fortitude, shield, and knockback jewels. And he'd be making jokes about stabbing the monster with his pointy stick the entire time, if you know what I mean.

His second main would be hunting horn. As much as the boy loves music, how could he not? Smacking monsters around while composing sick beats and buffing your teammates all at once is the perfect combo. He'd be a support-class king. I could see him running wide-range with speed-eating as well to serve as a healer.

Ryan:

Ryan's a bit harder to pin down since he can be equal parts aggressive/defensive depending on the choices you make in the game, so he'd probably choose a weapon that had a shield. More than likely it'd either be sword and shield or gunlance. He wouldn't bother with layering on the defense though, only elemental resistances. He'd boost his attack to get right in the thick of it, but would have a shield to fall back on if things got hairy.

His playstyle would be dependent on who his teammates were. If he's with Dylan, he's probably running sword and shield, because otherwise Dylan would be making jokes about him "blowing his load" in the monster with a gunlance.

If he's running sword and shield, I could see him running wide-range, especially if he's with both Kaitlyn and Dylan and Dylan was running lance.

Laura:

Girlboss is in it to win it. She's DPS through and through. Shields are for people who don't know how to dodge. If the monster is hitting you hard you hit it back harder.

When she's with other people she's maining switchaxe and is min-maxing the hell out of her build. She's got max attack, max expert, max challenger, and is eating for attack. She's zero sum discharging her load right into the monster's weak point and is loaded up on destroyer jewels to break every part on that motherfucker. If you can kill a monster fast, Laura can kill it faster. If it takes longer to set up a trap than it does to kill the monster, she's killing it.

When Laura is solo she's running a min/max heroics hammer build, because she fears no god and she fears no monster.

Max:

Max is a dual blades user. Easy to learn, easy to use, with the added bonus of Naruto running. He'd be more of a healer support build, running wide-range and buffing Laura so she could focus on damage. He'd make sure all the parts were tenderized for her. But he'd also always try to mount the monster (and of course make jokes about it), much to Laura's chagrine.

Abi:

Insect glaive all the way. She's up and away from the fight playing The Floor Is Lava. She'd load up on defense and elemental resistances and max her stamina regen to let her keep going as long as possible. She's not here to DPS she's here to survive and she'd be good at it. Also, she thinks the kinsect is cute.

Her and Nick/Emma would make a good team since most of the time she'd be out of the way of their attacks and wouldn't get hit. Abi would always want to capture monsters because she would feel bad killing them.

Nick:

Nick's another hard one to pin down, but I could see him maining either longsword or heavy bowgun. Both because they would make him look cool lol.

For longsword he would focus on using helmbreaker as much as possible but wouldn't be great at countering. He'd also forget that his spirit attacks hit his teammates and would get in fights with Jacob since they would constantly be interrupting each others combos.

For heavy bowgun, he wouldn't have different builds, he'd probably just have one generic build for everything. He wouldn't use just one type of ammo, he'd switch between everything he could fit in his inventory. He'd prefer wyvernheart over wyvernsnipe.

Emma:

Emma would be a chargeblade main with an equal parts defense/damage build. It's a flashy weapon that still has good defensive capabilities and she would take the time to properly learn how to counterblock and the intricacies of sword and shield mode versus axe mod. I could see her also focusing on utilizing monsters' elemental and status weaknesses against them. She'd be an ideal teammate for the Alatreon fight.

I could also see Emma using bow. She'd be inflicting statuses on monsters left and right. And as a bow user, she'd be a clutch claw queen. She's tenderizing all the parts and is the first to throw the monster into walls as soon as they unenrage.

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

I want to know what other people think, if you agree with me or not. Let me know!

[gorey]

Orchid's Official Commision Post

I am offering:

Art (portraits, full body, abstract; traditional medium)

Writing (poetry, short form fiction, essays; I will take a concept and run with it if you want me to. I also am willing to write fanfiction if it's for media I'm familiar with.)

Music! (Lyrics and instrumentals; I sing and I play the keyboard. My production setup is somewhat limited but I can create a lo-fi track for you. Particularly eager for music comms.)

Tarot readings (simple to complex. I do not do live readings; I will write up a document analyzing the reading in depth and send it to you. I have been reading cards since I was 16 and I have had a lot of positive feedback; I greatly enjoy reading for people.)

ALL PRICES ARE SLIDING SCALE AND NEGOTIABLE.

I will also offer work commensurate in cost of any proven donation to a current cause (Palestine, Sudan, Congo, Brazil etc) and if you choose to pay me I encourage you to make an equivalent (if possible) donation to a cause.

My situation: I am a disabled trans schizoautist who after years of hospitality work burnt out and can no longer hold a job. I live with my mother who is my sole source of income; I have my needs met but I have zero wiggle room to buy things in private/online; she pays me exclusively in cash and only for specific things with the exception of my monthly phone bill so I typically have absolutely nothing in my bank account. I am offering these commissions in hope that it can grant me autonomy while living here. I have applied for SSI but that's slow going so here we are.

Here are some examples of my art:

More can be found at @strawberry-room and all my music can be found via my carrd:

My cashapp is $Asher07 and that and Zelle are currently the only ways I can accept payment at the moment.

If you don't want a comm and wish to donate I appreciate it deeply but I'm prioritizing paid work as opposed to e-begging bc I am in a survivable situation right now.

Pricing for art will range with complexity of the work; pricing for writing will be based on length; pricing for music will be higher than the other things but sliding scale; prices for tarot readings will also be based on complexity of the spread.

I am also offering n s f w content on a case by case basis. To get a taste of that go over to @deadflirt

Really I am a jack of all trades and if you have an idea I want to make it a reality for you. Hit me up!

[tinker-tanner]

Tag Nine People You'd Like to Know Better

Favourite colour: intense, vivid green. I don't know how to describe it properly, but if you imagine the glow of radioactive waste in a cartoon, that's about it. Purple, orange, red, and black also suit me well.

Favourite flavour(s): My palate is unfortunately rather unsophisticated thanks to having almost zero sense of smell until age 27 (thank you estrogen for my life), so my sense of taste hasn't historically had a lot of room for variation. That said, there is nothing in this world quite like top-notch cheesy garlic bread.

Favourite music: indie rock writ broadly. This ranges from folky stuff like The Mountain Goats to metal-adjacent prog like Polyphia to the vast soundscapes of Sigur Rós. Also enjoy quite a bit of rap, electronic music, and folk.

Favourite movie: Attack the Block, always and forever. It's the perfect mix of horror, teenage shenanigans, comedy, and genuine emotion. This is also John Boyega's first starring role. I genuinely cannot believe he pulled off this kind of leading man energy as a teenager: watching this movie in 2012 lets me sincerely say I was into him before it was cool.

Favourite book: Two-way tie for first. Book of the New Sun by Gene Wolfe might be the smartest book I've ever read. Not that it makes the reader feel smart - I have rarely felt dumber than when I'm trying to understand what Severian is leaving out of a story - but that there's so much going on and every reread enhances how much you can extract from it. The Sisters of Dorley by Alyson Greaves helped give me the courage to finally acknowledge I was a woman and is also just a stupendous psychological drama filled with women who have so, so many things wrong with them. Honorary mention to The Lord of the Rings by J.R.R. Tolkien, which is still up there but no longer quite in the top spot.

Favourite series: Revolutionary Girl Utena. I did not know TV could ever be this good. I do not expect any TV show to astound me this much again. Watching Utena, I could feel my brain physically reshape itself. The show is unexpectedly blunt about rape and child abuse considering it's shojo, so watch out for that, but if you can handle it, watch this show.

Last song: "Sun Bleached Flies" by Ethel Cain. The perfect song for a certain mood when you need to reckon with not being Christian anymore. The first time I heard her sing "God loves you, but not enough to save you" was like a revelation.

Last series: Afraid I don't watch enough TV to remember this.

Last movie: The Boy and the Heron. Miyazaki near the peak of his powers, which I never expected to see again. The big screen added a lot to this one. Even by the usual high standards Ghibli sets, it's incredibly gorgeous.

Currently reading: Beowulf (as translated by Maria Dahvana Headley). I'm a sucker for Old English literature. Took two courses on Old English in undergrad and they were some of my favourites of the degree until the person who taught me turned out to be profoundly racist. Headley's take is bizarre and therefore compelling to me: I'm always interested in seeing how weird someone can get with the source material.

Currently watching: Nothing. I weeded and organised my bookshelves for the first time in the 2020s and am taking advantage of this to read my TBR list at a ferocious pace.

Currently working on: Nothing in particular. I'm not all that creatively inclined and what little writing projects I did have were pushed aside by all the real-life nonsense I'm juggling. Tarot reading has been a joy to learn, though; attempting to interpret real-world events through knotty tangles of symbolism is exactly the sort of thing my brain likes. Shoutout to The Tarot Restless by Winslow Dumaine, which dared to ask "What if I made up my own Dark Souls cosmology and put it in a deck of cards?"

Tagged by @tobermoriansass, which I find terribly considerate given how hard it is to drag him away from his elves these days. Tagging @sophibeans @stackslip @licoricefern @deadciv @catgirltoes @loki-zen and whoever else would like to join in!

[littlewalken]

TIL that Daniel Vangarde (Bangalter) went from being banned on French radio to seeing his son win album of the year and more at the Grammys. He was there when Daft Punk won everything.

Now I got to go look at the Grammy footage and see if I can see him.

transcript of the Bilboard.com article:

Daniel Vangarde, Father Of Daft Punk’s Thomas Bangalter & Disco Innovator, Breaks His Silence

From his home in Brazil, the 75-year-old legend reflects on being banned from French radio, the best advice he gave to Daft Punk and the re-release of his catalog: "I think I will not die."

Daniel Vangarde has lived a fascinating life. He’s lived at least three of them, in fact. 

His first act was as a producer, A&R and all-around catalyst for some of the most popular European disco and funk acts of the 1970s and ’80s, shifting millions of copies. Since the late 2000s he’s been residing and working in a Brazilian village of 750 people, teaching English, computer literacy, vocational skills and a range of artistic expression.

Somewhere in the middle he fathered a son, Thomas Bangalter, who also made some decent records himself. 

Vangarde (born Bangalter) helped guide the early movements of Daft Punk, at a time when the pre-Homework duo had magic in their fingertips but hadn’t yet mastered the close control of image and narrative which forged their mystique. Vangarde doled out critical advice to Thomas, Guy-Manuel and a coterie of close friends in the ’90s Parisian scene, instilling in them the requisite knowledge to play the industry game on their own terms and better enabling them to sculpt their consequential destiny. 

Then followed a high-profile battle with France’s publishing and rights society, SACEM, over both restrictive practices for modern artists and historical aberrations for post-World War II remuneration to Jewish musicians. Sufficiently content with both his own success and the imprint he left on the next generation, Vangarde retreated into silence, only fleetingly emerging when required (including a trip to the 2014 Grammy Awards, where he watched his son clean up). There were no plans to issue communiqués with the music ecosystem — until now.

Following a deal with powerhouse French label Because Music, the vaults of Vangarde’s Zagora Records have been busted open. The resultant compilation, Daniel Vanguarde: The Vaults of Zagora Records Mastermind (1971 - 1984), out Nov. 25 on Because Music, should re-situate him in a lineage of discotheque-pleasers with a taste for suave, symphonic and Star Wars-influenced material that bristles with joie de vivre. The comp is surprisingly tight for an era which left no excess untested; it’s not a stretch to say, from the colorway of his suit down to his perm, the Daniel Vangarde peering out from the cover might just have been the model for Disco Stu.

Having undertaken the grand sum of zero English-language interviews for 75 years, Vangarde made himself available to Billboard from the deep Bahian forests for an extremely rare and rather charming conversation about it all. 

One thing that’s clear across your life is a fascination with culture and society outside of your own. You produced artists from the French Antilles and the West Indies, kickstarted a cossack dance craze in the late ’60s, and latterly founded an NGO. Where does this curiosity stem from?

I always liked traveling: I spent 10 summers of my adolescence in Costa Brava [Spain], visited Swinging London, and in 1966 hitchhiked from New York down to Mexico in order to visit the Tarahumara. Life felt like an adventure.

In 1971, I happened upon Guadeloupe and loved it — the people, the place, and the local rhythmic music, biguine, which I took back to work on in Paris. Throughout trips to Kathmandu, Bali and Malaysia in the ’70s, my love for African, Arabian, South American and other music outside the French or Anglo-Saxon tradition kept growing.

What were your dreams for the world back then?

Ah, that is easy. I was curious about the globe and completely against war. I was politically active from a young age. I was arrested during the student revolution in ’68 and spent three nights in a jail cell without light. That was very frightening. They say there were no deaths but I am certain this is untrue, there was great violence. For years afterward I had to cross the street whenever I saw a policeman, you know?

You had post-traumatic stress?

Yes, yes, it was this: it was post-traumatic stress. But I stayed against nuclear factories, against the Algerian War and successfully avoided my own military service. I did not change my point of view that mass consumption is a dead-end of civilization. In 1968, we had spiritual belief in a more open future. Today we have realism about our present moment, and that is what it is.

When you were 25, you and longtime collaborator Jean Kluger came up with Yamasuki, a faux-Japanese project whose only release is still pored over by record collectors and DJs like Four Tet. Why did you decide to jump into the deep end with such a specific concept? 

Listen to this article

After the success of “Casatschok,” I was mostly considered a choreographer. Shows about kung fu were beginning to sweep through television, so Kluger and I thought about creating a Japanese dance, which we called Yamasuki, but the great sound of the music caught on more. We really got into a Japanese mindset: I bought an English-to-Japanese phrasebook, we learned phonetic pronunciation and taught a children’s choir lyrics in Japanese. We even hired a karate master to deliver a shout of death [kiai] — except he had no sense of rhythm, so I would stand in the studio, cueing him when to shout… and trembling on the other side of the mic.

As disco became popular globally, and you had French artists like Cerrone winning Grammy Awards for Best New Artist, was there any competition or jealousy? Or did you regard them as your peers?

Peers, totally. There was no competition at all. If there was any competition, in fact, it was with American and English production. I never used a mastering studio; I would be there at the Phillips factory, watching the acetate get pressed, making sure the sound was impeccable. Cerrone, he was not a friend, but we would see each other at the discotheques when taking our new records to the DJ for promotion. The same applies for Jacques Morali {the disco producer responsible for the Village People] — at this time, for the French to have success away from home was a great feeling.

Some of the records you worked on were massive. “D.I.S.C.O.” was the third biggest-seller of 1980 in Germany and the fifth in the UK; the Gibson Brothers sold millions of copies; you’ve been sampled and covered by Erykah Badu, Bananarama, Roger Sanchez — it’s a legacy of success by any other name. Did that come as a surprise to you?

I will say that when I started to make songs, I wanted to write to The Beatles and tell them that there should be five members. [Laughs] I was this certain that I could bring something to them. I imagine that maybe everybody that records hopes that his music will be understood and appreciated by the public. But even if I was expecting success, I recognize it’s a great privilege to live your life off of music. 

What was your relationship to fame throughout all this?

I only did one LP as a frontman, which had the privilege of being banned on radio and television. The lyrics concerned how France is the third biggest producer of bombs and mines. Of course, that’s a state secret, so the record was buried, and I was never a frontman again. But that’s alright: I was an author, composer and producer; an artisan. I sought no fame, no show business. A reporter asked me recently: “So you live your life in the shadows?” And I said, “No! I live in the light, normally, like you do.”

Interest in the Zagora reissue is however fun to me, because I was not fashionable at all. I produced La Compagnie Créole, a very big band in the ’80s, and we could sell out three nights at L’Olympia but I could never once get a journalist to come see the show. That’s just how it was then. If it’s not chanson, it’s not serious. In France, popular music is suspicious.

By the time your career wound down around 1990, was the love for music still present? Was it a creative rupture or a decision to be with your family?

Truthfully, I was not producing music that excited me, and I thought it unwise to carry on. When making a hit my hands would become wet while mixing, and a physical sensation would overtake my belly. So if I was not feeling anything, why would anyone else? Also, there was a new generation doing dance music, and of course this was very close for me.

Yes, on that note�� perhaps no one in the last 10 years has done more to kickstart the revival of disco and analog production than your son, Thomas. Why do you think that era has swept back into the public consciousness? 

I can see why. Nothing replaces rhythm. Songs that you can dance to, with a melody you can sing — not rap, not techno, not even Daft Punk can compete with this human response to a good feeling. There are different chapels today: you have country radio, rap radio, rock radio, but the old repertoire has maintained.

What aggregates the masses are famous hits, and disco was the last of this kind of music. When they decided that disco was over and they started to burn the records [1979’s infamous bonfire of hate, Disco Demolition], I thought it was a joke, because I never thought happy, dancing music could possibly fade. And when disco came back, I realized it hadn’t faded after all.

Your know-how helped ground not only a young Daft Punk, but also their peers Phoenix and Air, all of whom credit your advice with allowing them to navigate the music biz and retain creative freedom.

I think all artists should have this freedom. I helped Thomas, Guy-Man and their friends as much as I could to allow them to release without barriers. They were only 20 years old and the industry could have squeezed them — a normal contract generates interference between your work and the time it’s released. I made an introduction to my English lawyer, who is still [Daft Punk’s] lawyer today, and advised them not to let the author’s rights society in France authorize their music for film or publicity. My input was to help create a good environment that allowed them to produce freely.

Do you think the industry is a better place for young artists now than it was in the ’90s, or the ’70s? Or is it contingent on who you are?

That’s difficult to say. I think the music industry is in a terrible situation, not because of the internet, but because record companies and publishers didn’t know how to use the internet. When I helped Thomas set up Daft Club [a groundbreaking hub for digital downloads and fan service, released in tandem with 2001’s Discovery] even then, many considered the internet science fiction for geeks. And what was the result? 

They should have contracted the hackers! The best guy from Napster should have been contracted by record companies to organize a new paid system. At a time when people paid $10-20 for an LP, of course they would have accepted paying $1 instead. But the industry did nothing, music became like free air, and once the value collapsed to zero for many years, it was hard to come back from this.

In the ’70s, the artistic directors of a record company or programmers of a radio station held all the control. So I didn’t think it was good then. But I can’t say it’s better today either. It’s difficult for true talent to break through or generate wealth in the same fashion as before.

As you’ve never given interviews, your working practice from that era is lost. I mean — Bangalter now rings with a uniqueness and star quality, so why did you use Vangarde as your professional surname?

I wanted to allow future Thomas to use Bangalter! No, I chose a pen name in case I had success; I did not wish to book a hotel or restaurant and be recognized. Why Vangarde? Originally I had prepared Morane, the name of a small French plane in the early 1900s. But on the day of registration with SACEM, this was already taken, so I was given one minute to change. I quickly thought of another plane called the Vanguard, and this stuck by complete accident.

You’ve been distant from your own catalog for so long. Why now? 

I’m afraid it’s not very romantic. I have known Emmanuel [de Buretel, kingpin of French electronic music] since he was 25. When Because Music showed interest in buying Zagora Records and releasing some old tracks, I trusted them, and said, “You’ll be the owner of the catalog, so if you want to, yes.” As I have never done photos or interviews, I did not expect interest at all. I could even not remember some of their choices, so I had to go on YouTube and listen back as I was certain these were not my songs! To see any reaction has been a huge shock. Because made a very good decision.

So you never considered what you’d like your legacy to be?

I think I will not die. I have songs that I did 50 years ago that are still popular. If people are happy when they hear the songs and go to dance, or go to see the bands still touring, they do not die. This is the answer of my legacy.

And are you satisfied?

Yes, I’m very happy. I have the privilege to do what I want, and a good personal life… in the shadows. [Laughs] I have a good relationship with Thomas and now I have two grandchildren. One is 20 years old and the other is 14 — I love them. I go on being free and having my health. What more can I ask for?

[cloudcountry]

Ooo, I’ll keep that piece of Ikevamp lore in mind!! 👀 Thank you! >w<

While I was around for the Zero hype, I only saw some of it— I don’t know the full extent of how down bad you are for him, but then again, you’ve made him your profile picture, so maybe I should already have a good sense of it jkdfngk— /j /lh

And speaking of Ikevamp!! I wrote a little bit for that Beethoven fic, but I only made discombobulated bits and pieces kjdfgn— If you don’t mind, I’ll share two snippets,,! 👀👉👈 (Tbh, the fic isn’t going to drop in a fairly long time because I don’t have much time to work on it, unfortunately,, It’s a bit messy, and these are kinda loose ideas, so they’re not final, but I hope you like them regardless!)

~~~

Ludwig van Beethoven, seven years old: *he and his father, Johann, are on their way to the music hall where Ludwig will give his debut performance*

Ludwig: Papa? How many people will be there?

Johann: Quite a few, but don’t be nervous. Remember what we’ve practiced, and you’ll be alright. Many musicians I know will be there as well. I will introduce you to them after your performance; they’re quite influential! I’m sure they’ll take a liking to you.

Ludwig: *he hums in response* *thankfully for Ludwig, whether it was due to his youth or confidence, he didn’t feel nervous like many others would before their debut performance*

Johann: Oh, and Ludwig? From now on, you will address me as ‘Father.’ All the other children call their fathers ‘papa,’ and you are no ordinary child. You are not like them. You are far more brilliant, far more talented; the next Mozart!

Ludwig: Yes… Father. *he presses his lips together; the word sounded odd on his tongue, but if Johann wanted him to call him that, he would. If not because he wanted to make his father proud, then if only because he didn’t want his father to be mad at him - he had a terrible temper, after all*

(Time Skip - Beethoven, now an adult, is slowly losing his hearing)

Those ringings in Ludwig’s ears were like the death knells of a church bell. They signalled the impending doom of his hearing, and whenever they rang their high-pitched intonations, everything sounded just a little further away. It wouldn’t be long until he felt like his head was submerged underwater; everything sounded distant and far away. Even now, as he played the piano in his room, he needed to strain his ears to properly hear the tune he was creating.

He closed his eyes to focus the entirety of his senses on the sound from the piano. As he squeezed his eyes shut tighter, he felt his growing despair gnaw at his heart. 

Music can change the world. He believed that as a child, and even now, he still did with his whole heart. So why was it that the music was falling silent?

It should have been my eyesight, Ludwig thought. But then how would he be able to write down his music if he couldn’t see?

It should have been his sense of taste, he reasoned. Food was nothing more but mere sustenance to him, anyway. He couldn’t even find joy in eating his favorite food anymore. He was a musician, Ludwig thought bitterly. The vibrant music he heard and produced were his food, the fruits of his labour, his love, his passion. If he couldn’t even have that, what else was there?

~~~

Oh, but I do have one more Ikevamp question!! You said that pureblooded vampires can bring people back to life as lesser vampires; is Comte a pureblooded vampire? I tried checking the fandom wikipedia, but the categorisation on him confused me nmfgbd 💀 Oh, and also,, does it say in the game how tall the MC is? Because I tried estimating her height out of curiosity judging from CGs, and she’s,,, REALLY short 💀 Like, she’s either 4’11 or 5’0 in the CGs I’ve seen 💀 5’1 if we really want to stretch it- Which is kind of a shame, because I was hoping that MC could be the same height/taller than Beethoven JFGGBFB

On one last note!! Next week I have to perform an original monologue with a character who has a god complex kfjghb- I hope I do decent,, TwT  Also!! My birthday’s coming up soon! :D

[Oh, and before I forget- I’ve written down a bunch of random TWST thoughts/ideas,, Would you like me to drop them,,? 👀👉👈]

Jackdaw Anon 🐦

AAAAA NO YOU DONT UDNERSTANDNDN &%$^!@$^%!@$^!@%$@! ZERO IS SO . HE IS EVERTTHI9GN .. GHES SO GERAT HES REALLY JUST SP GREAT . HES SUCH A HARD WORKING ERSON AND EVEN THOUGH I WISH HE DIDNT HAVE TO WORK SO HARD FOR THRE ASONS HE WORKS SO HARD HES ASO RELIABLE ANYWAY AND THAT MAKES HIM SO AMAZING AND I LOVE HOW SQWWEET AND STRONG AND WONDERFUL AND DETERMINED HE IS, HES WORKED SO HARD TO BE WHERE HE IS NOW AND HE OPNE EDUP TO THE MC ENOUGH TO REALLY CONNECT WITH HER AND BECAUSE OF THAT HE GETS REWALLY BLUSHY SOMEOTHIMES AND ITS LITERALLY THE SWEETETS THING YOU COYLD EVER WITNESS BECAUSE HE DOESNT WANT TO LET HER GOP EEVEN THOUGH HE KNOWS HE HAS TO CEVNETUALLY AJHJSGHKAWDGKJFWESHILESFWHLJIUJEWRSFGHOYIU

beethoven is so kickass for that HES BOYBOSSING RN HELL YEAH GET THAT PIANO!!!!! ALSO YES comte is a pure blooded vampire, along with vlad and leonardo ^^ i checked the ewiki and it said greater vampire so i can see how that confused you LMAOOO

UR SO REALF OR THE MC SHORT THING.....ugh the on saving grace is that the avatars are basically the saem height (at least isaac and shakespeare are...theyre the only ones ive had in my room AHGSFD)

HAPPY EARLY BIRTHSAY OMG?!?!?!? I HOPE YOUR MONOOLOGUE GOES WELL!!!!!

ofc you should totally drop them C:<

[randoimago]

Music Ask Game

So I reblogged a music ask game a few days ago and decided that I wanted to just do all of them for fun. All links go to the song on Spotify!

Put it under the cut cause it gets lengthy! Also, TW for blood mention for song 19!!

A song you liked as a child - Dust in the Wind b. Kansas (I was a fun child 😅 )

A song that features an element (earth/fire/water/air) - Tempted to drop September b. Earth, Wind, & Fire and call it a day. But let's go with we're all eating each other b. Juliet Ivy

A song you’d choose to introduce someone to your favorite genre - Idk if I have a favorite genre since I listen to all kinds of music. Maybe I'd go with ZITTI E BUONI b. Måneskin or Usseewa b. Ado if I was getting people into music in other languages.

A song you’d put on a playlist for a character you love - Giving me the urge to make character playlists yet again. Ngl, I can't decide if Itadori would go nuts about Otaku Hot Girl cause Megan Thee Stallion mentioned his name, or if he'd be crying cause of Gojo's name being in the chorus (should've been me, not him meme)

A song you think most of your followers won’t have heard before - Hmm I feel like I have a wide range of followers so I'll use one of my favorite songs just to see if anyone else enjoys it! Too Much Heaven b. Bee Gees

A song that makes you think of a family member - Stairway to Heaven b. Led Zeppelin. It was my great aunt's favorite song and I miss her every day (I was very close to her, one of the few people in my extended family that I cared about)

A song you know every word to - This also applies to a lot of songs😅 I guess most recently it'd be Espresso b. Sabrina Carpenter

A song from a soundtrack - Ooh there's lots of songs I enjoy from soundtracks. I'll go with I Just Can't Wait to Be King from The Lion King soundtrack (favorite Disney song ngl, Zero to Hero is a close 2nd)

A song in a language you don’t speak - I usually talk about Japanese music and sometimes Kpop so let's try a different language this time! Не вистачає кисню b. Alice Change

A song that makes you feel relaxed - I'll go with H.S b. Tom Cardy. It just makes me happy to listen to it and gives happy vibes.

A song that makes you dance - Just a Girl b. No Doubt always makes me want to reenact cheesy 80's movie "dance "let's dance and go crazy" scenes

A song from the 90s - The urge to put Running in the 90's b. Max Coveri and call it a day is so strong. (looked it up and jokes on everyone, the song came out in 1998, it counts 😎)

A song by a performer you’ve seen live - This Ain't a Scene, It's An Arms Race b. Fall Out Boy. First ever concert I ever went to was FOB back in 2016 (I think? I know I was a sophomore in highschool but I don't remember the exact date).

A song you love to sing along to - There's so many that I love singing too. I guess right now we'll go with Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This) b. Eurythmics

A song you’d play for a toddler - My parents had me listening to The Rolling Stones and Guns n' Roses when I was a kid so what would I play for a toddler 🤔 Prison Song b. System of a Down. Gotta start the anarchy young 😤

A song that makes you think of an old (or current) crush - Do Re Mi b. Blackbear. I swear the relationship ended on a good note! She's the one that got me into Blackbear and that was her favorite song

A cover song - Baby Got Back b. Jonathan Colton (it's one of my favorite covers ever ngl. I also enjoy Jonathan Colton's music very much)

A song you’d play to set the mood on a date - Megalovania jokes aside, it depends on what the date is. Although, playing the Undertale soundtrack as background noise would be pretty chill (it'd also be me testing to see if my partner has good taste)

A song that makes you emotional - Susie Q b. Creedence Clearwater Revival. Typically not a sad song, but the reason behind it is a bit depressing 😅. My dad used to play guitar all the time when I was a kid and I'd request him to play that song because I loved listening to him play it so much. And then back in 2018 he had a heart attack and we learned he has diabetes. Things have gotten worse since and now his hands are really bad so he can't play guitar without bleeding. It just makes me emotional thinking that I might not be able to hear him play that song again. Like I said, a bit depressing.

(I didn't do 20 cause it's "a song you'd put on the playlist of the person who sent you this ask" and idk if there's any song I'd add to my own playlist unless you guys want to suggest songs for me to listen to!)

[sovngardian]

hi there, i'm elodie/juniper! 28, irl equestrian & witch. my music taste ranges from pop punk trash to morgan wallen to frank sinatra. autistic af and strictly she/they/them.

i'm a literate writer who's been in and out of forum rps since 2010. i'm a w h o r e for angst, drama and cheesy romance and also love horror, action and adventure as secondary genres. i lean towards femme characters BUT i have plenty of male muses. <33

love fantasy, medieval, regency era and modern au's! smut is reserved for chemistry and my characters are all canon divergent. a lot of them are OCs replacing canons or alternate timelines of certain verses.

this acc is a multi muse space hyper fixated on bridgerton, the last kingdom, the 100 and any or all heavy fantasy related things (elves? fairies? witch craft? scrumptupus.) adaptable, multi verse and for the most part multi ship! single ships will be tagged when my muse list is up and are usually the characters i connect w and value the most. feel free to add or msg me on disc @ jupjters.

anyways!!! trying to find like minded accs to follow n interact with. <33 i have zero artistic skills, my blog appearance will probably be boring until i'm able to spruce things up

[busines-as-unusual]

˖ ࣪ ⭑⟡Chapter 4 - Zeal with Knowledge ⟡⭑ ࣪ ˖

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

You’d regret this. You knew you would. Still, you also knew swallowing your pride and getting this out of the way would be worth it in the end.

Besides… it was too late to turn the car around.

You and Alastor rode in your sleek blood-red automobile. You seldom drove your prized chariot, preferring to walk or have one of your employees drive you around. Still, you held pride in your vehicle and looked forward to the special occasions when you could whip it out.

Having Alastor in your passenger seat was definitely a special occasion.

The sight of him all buckled up to your right was something you never imagined you’d see. It managed to be both mundane and comical. You’d had plenty of friends and dates in this car but this was somehow more intimate. Exciting even. The butterflies in your stomach had to agree.

Get a grip, Temerity.

You slowed to a stop at a red light. Fiddling with the buttons on your cuffs, you rolled both sleeves up to your elbow.

Your change in style had nothing to do with fashion. In Pentagram City you could dress how you liked, no one batted an eye if you looked like a relic. However, when traveling you preferred to not stand out— blending in was a survival tactic you carried over from life. As much as you loved visiting Rosie in Cannibal Town, you had to learn the hard way that to avoid being torn apart, you had to look the part.

Your life in Hell and on Earth had that in common.

“Would you like some music?” The light turned green and you eased on the gas. “Guests have full control of the radio.”

With a twirl of his finger, Alastor switched the radio on, filling the car with swing music. Big band accompanied your wordless drive down the twisted roads that lead out of Pentagram City.

Despite your apprehension, Alastor’s presence was a pleasant one. He hummed along to the music, eyes cast on the sights they flew by. The light caught in the crimson of his eyes and hair, giving him a wondrously infernal glow.

Beautiful.

You forced yourself to look away. The car crash you’d cause by gawking at him like a lovestruck mouth-breather wouldn’t kill you hard enough.

Still, you’d sneak the occasional glance at him. The chances of you having Alastor in your car again after today were less than zero. You wanted to remember this feeling of having him by your side, to admire him in this quiet moment. You wanted the image of him that he’s allowed you to see burnt into your memory for the rest of your afterlife.

Lord, you were sad.

One song ended and another began. A jocund piano tune took off, trumpets joining in with a flourish. You perked up, ears rousing in interest.

“Duke Ellington! Oh, I loved him. You know, back when I was alive, he and his band— back when they were called The Washingtonians— played at my club in Manhattan. I used to brag I made him popular.” A reminiscent laugh from. “I used to say that about musicians who never even stepped foot in my club. King Oliver, Mamie Smith, Louis Armstrong—“

“Louis Armstrong!” Alastor said, the radio effect light in his voice. “I had the privilege of having him on my radio broadcast. He wasn’t a big name then, but still a wonderful talent.”

“Get out of here!”

You two talked, and tension ebbed away. The conversation never dipped back into his life on earth which was fine. Even the smallest insight he decided to share was lovely. You noticed among sinners you were more open about talking about when you were alive. In many ways, Hell was a continuation of your life on earth, your death and respawn a rough bump in the road.

You weren’t surprised by your shared taste since you two were from the same era. Alastor did however surprise you with the range of his taste. You listened in earnest as he sang the praises of a ragtime musician you weren’t familiar with.

Ragtime was before, well, your time in America, having fallen in style by the time you made it across the pond. Alastor’s honest insight was a joy to listen to; he even rattled off a few names for you to look into.

Unfortunately, you passed the city limits sign letting you know you were close to your destination. Weaving through the narrow roads you arrived at your destination and parked your car in the sketchy-as-fuck parking lot.

You turned the car off with a huff. Fingers anxiously drummed on the leather steering wheel. “Before we get this show on the road, I’ll warn you my contact is rather… ornery, so don’t get offended if they say or do something uncouth.”

Alastor put a hand over his chest in mock offense. “Are you implying that I’m anything other than a perfect gentleman?”

“I once saw you strike a kid.”

A dismissive hand wave. “At twenty, he was hardly a child.”

“Just don’t go scaring them. I need their help.”

He promised he wouldn’t and you decided to believe him. Alastor stalked you into the condemnable building. The unkempt floors and buzzing lights were in stark contrast to the well-maintained elevator. You pushed the worn button for the seventh floor. A piano cover of a Verosika Mayday song whined overhead on busted speakers.

The familiar door to I.M.P. Headquarters greeted you. Pushing it open, an unnaturally sweet flowery aroma trying to mask the dead rat smell invaded your nose, the scent matching faded drab wallpaper and trampled carpet.

To your surprise, Loona, Blitzø’s adopted daughter, sat behind the receptionist table. She glanced from scrolling through her phone to greet the two of you in her usual impassive way. “Welcome to I.M— oh shit. It’s you.”

“Hello, Loona, hun.”

The hellhound looked between you and Alastor, unphased. “What’s with the red guy?”

Alastor’s eyes narrowed, twitching in transparent annoyance. He couldn’t stand being unknown, even by those considered Hell's lowest. The corners of your lips tweaked upwards. The absolute ego of this man.

Cute.

“He’s a deer friend. Is Blitzø in?”

“He’s not gonna want to see you after last time.”

Your eyes threatened to roll back into your skull. Figures. It's not like you didn't apologize and make up. Several times. “Tell him there’s someone who wants to see him with a fat cock and fatter stacks of cash.”

Alastor grimaced at your crass language. You bit your cheek so you wouldn’t laugh at his discomfort… even though he deserved it.

Loona cracked half a smile. “He's gonna shoot you both onsite,” she said but relayed the message into the phone.

Not even a second passed when the door flew open, kicked clean off its hinges. The tall imp in question stepped out all eager and full of smiles. “Hello! I'm Blitzø. The ‘o’ is silent. What can I— OH shit dicking FUCK shiet!” He recoiled as if he saw someone horrifying, not sweet little ol’ you.

“Hello, Blitzø~” You waggled your fingers in a playful wave. “It's been too long.”

Blitzø pulled his pistol from his jacket and aimed it straight at your face. “M and M! That crazy raccoon bitch is back. And she brought her strawberry pimp!”

Alastor's head tilted at an unnatural angle, his smile tight and unimpressed. Static crackled in the air around him. “Excuse me?”

Blitzø’s employees ran into the room, weapons drawn and pointed straight at you, Moxxie with a gun and his wife, Millie, with an ax. Alastor gave you a questioning look, silently asking what you did to them.

“Can we please put the weapons down for a second?” Your eye twitched. “I just want to talk.”

“No, I don’t think we will,” Blitzø said, cocking the gun. “Especially after that bullshit, you pulled last time.”

“I apologized, didn't I?”

“I'm sorry, in what world does an apology and two and a half hatefucks magic away the fire you set to my van?!”

Moxxie dropped his aim, face steeped in confusion and mild disgust. “What?”

You ground your teeth. A headache bloomed behind your eyes. If Blitzø didn't shoot you now, you’d pull the trigger yourself. “Alastor, dear, it’s not too late to wait in the car.”

“No, I'm quite content here.” He sauntered over to the faded couch across the room and sat, legs crossed and cane tucked in his arms as he eagerly awaited to watch the rest of the shit show. “Please, don't mind me.”

You glowered at him, which only served to widen his smile.

Blitzø’s eyes shot between the two of you before locking his ire back on you. “Okay we’ll address your freak later, but right now it’s time for you to—”

You snapped your fingers and a band of money appeared in your palm. You tossed it to Millie who caught it effortlessly in one hand.

Blitzø’ lowered the gun a hair. “We’re listening.”

The imp was as predictable as he was feisty. You liked that about him, even though most of the time he gave you an ulcer.

You hopped on the corner of the desk, ignoring Loona’s irritated mutterings about your fat ass on her workspace. You crossed your legs, letting your red boots dangle against the side of the desk.

“I need a favor and... I have a job for you.” You needed to be meticulous with your next words. You had no qualms letting Alastor know you partook in I.M.P’s assassin service, but he didn't need to know why.

Ever.

“First things first. I need to get in contact with Fizzaroli.”

“Why the fuck do you need him?” Blitzø booped you in the breast with his gun. ”Gonna light his shit on fire too?”

You groaned and flicked the gun to the side. “I’ve already told you— that fire was an accident. Jesus, Blitzø, hold that grudge harder, why don't you?”

“Says the bitch with a hundred-year vendetta—”

You snapped your head to Blitzø. Narrowed eyes bore into his, your harsh gaze full of red hot ire. He snapped his mouth shut, understanding your silent plea:

Don’t.

He swallowed, guilt briefly flashing across his face. “Sorry, sorry— I didn't—” He uncocked his gun and holstered it under his jacket. “Look, why do you need Fizz?”

You unclenched your jaw and explained your project with the hotel. You expected Blitzø of all people to say something snide or dickish, but his comment from earlier took a bit of his bite.

“I can get you in touch with Fizz, but no guarantee he’ll even go for it. And if he turns you down you gotta promise not to go full psycho pyro slut like last time.”

You cringed, not from the embarrassment of recalling your temper tantrum, but because of who was in the room to hear it. “You have my word, okay? No more fires.”

“I fucking mean it, tits,” Blitzø said. “I don’t need you coming back here lighting shit on fire and thinking some strange makes it all better.”

You clenched your hands so you wouldn’t wrap them around his neck. “Bloody fucking— I get it! No sex, no fires. You wanna hear about this job or not?”

You chanced a look Alastor’s way, afraid of the expression you’d find behind his smile. His elbow rested on his knee, his chin in his hand as he watched this back and forth, his mouth twisted in amusement.

Of course he was enjoying this. Where’s a meteor when you need one?

“This is the final job I have for you,” you said, eyes back on Blitzø. “I need you to take care of the last name on the list I gave you and hold onto him, until I can pick him up.”

“Okay, but if this one ends up in heaven—”

“The last man’s piety got him sent down here. No god’s welcoming this prick to heaven.”

Blitzø nodded, a quiet look of understanding passing between the two of you. He motioned for his colleagues to lower their weapons. “It's a deal, but since you're asking us to also babysit this guy for you—”

You snapped more money into your hand.

“Done.”

Fucking finally. You hopped off the desk and handed Blitzø the rest of his money. He grabbed the roll from Millie and went to count it with glee, relaying to an exasperated Loona all the horse stuff he wanted to get.

Moxxie walked past you to grab the door Blitzø knocked down. You snapped your fingers, an idea popping in your head. “Oh! Moxxie?”

He frowned, finger pointing to himself. “You know my name?”

A confused tilt of your head. “Is there a reason I shouldn’t?”

His wife took a tentative step his way, keeping a suspicious eye trained on you. Despite her threatening demeanor (Millie knew how to use that ax), you found the protective gesture sweet.

“It's just normally people don’t get my name right, they usually call me Boxxie or Roxxie, especially when I’m getting coffee or—”

“Blitzø would talk about you during our private meetings. He told me you're a talented musician. You're welcome to audition for the hotel’s show if you want.”

Millie's apprehension turned to joy at her partner’s praises. She grabbed her husband and kissed him on the cheek. “Oh, my Moxxie is the best! That was so sweet of you to say, Blitzø.”

Blitzø rubbed between his eyes, face darkened with a flush. “Bitch, I will cut you if you don’t get out of my office right the fuck now.”

“Wow! Awful lot of sexy talk for someone in a committed relationship. You do freaky horse shit with Stolas too, or was I special?”

“Out!”

You snickered but relented. “Alright. Let's go, Alastor.”

“In a minute, my dear.” Alastor shadows carried him to stand behind the imps who regarded him with varying levels of distaste. “I do have a question for your little friends. But do go ahead and get the car running. I won’t be long.”

You faltered, and Alastor assessed them, smirk devious. He wanted to toy with them a bit, you assumed, and ask them a few questions to sate his curiosity. No harm in that.

Shrugging, you let yourself out and reminded him to play nice.

“My what an entertaining experience!” Alastor said over the radio in your car. He noticed ever since departing you abstained from sneaking glances at him like before. You were embarrassed. How cute.

“Very!” Your voice was thick with faux enthusiasm. “So entertaining that we'll never have to address it again, lest we taint its memory.”

Alastor chuckled, canned laughter accompanying him. He’s never seen you so irritated. You weren't even this argumentative with Alastor inviting himself into your home unannounced. He was almost jealous of his ability to get you so riled.

“It seems like meeting with your imp friend left you in a bit of a tizzy. Care to share why?”

Your grip on the steering wheel turned your knuckles pale. “Blitzø tends to be exhausting when he wants to. Which is all the time. It’s only cute for about two minutes.”

“Ah yes, the taller, cantankerous imp. How did the likes of him manage to catch the fancy of an Ars Goetia, I wonder.”

It was an intentional slip. You never mentioned he was romantically involved with an Ars Goetia. Alastor was curious if you’d catch him and what you’d say if you did.

You bit your lip, brow furrowed as the wheel of thought spun in your mind. When you spoke it wasn’t what he expected to come out of your mouth, “Alastor, don’t go asking questions you don’t want to know the answer to.”

If anything, that spurred his curiosity. “Oh come now, dear, I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t want to know.”

“Riiiight. You’re so sure about that.”

The sarcastic lilt in your tone was irksome, to say the least. You spoke like one might speak down to a child asking about adult subjects. Like you knew what information he was worthy to know.

When he was silent for a beat too long, he caught you looking at him for a moment, before returning your attention to the road.

”Apparently Prince Stolas and I share similar opinions when it comes to Blitzø’s bedroom expertise.”

That was it? The big secret? Sex was all it took for one of Hell’s all-powerful nobility to hand over such a powerful tome? He’d hoped you’d provide more nuanced insight. Alastor couldn’t fathom wielding power that great and simply giving it away in exchange for something so… debauched. The thought alone was disgustingly salacious and deeply pathetic.

You frowned at him, mistaking his silence for confusion. “He’s really good in bed, I mean.”

“No, dear, I understood—”

“And on a couch,” you added, quite needlessly, “or over a desk or in a—”

Alastor’s ears flattened against his head, turning to face the window. Revulsion from his throat coated his words, “Painting a picture is not necessary in this instance.”

You snorted, an ungraceful sound he hated to admit he found rather quaint. “I’m not sorry.”

A roll of his eyes. “Will you continue down this licentious road if I ask you a second question?”

You hummed, pretending to think about it. “Depends.”

“Who are you sending those imps after? Who could’ve upset you so much on earth that you need them in Hell?”

All at once your merry disposition drained, leaving with your smile. You recovered, but not before Alastor caught a look on your face he recognized all too well. A positively delectable expression he recognized from many of his victims.

Dread.

And on you it was rather striking.

You opened your painted lips to let the lie flow like a waterfall. “Just some schmucks who owed me money back when I was alive. Got me in hot water with the local mob for a bit.”

“I see.”

The two of you settled in for a quiet drive to the hotel, the radio the sole fill-in for the silence. Somehow his conversation with you was even less illuminating than his chat with those imps.

Like you, they assumed to know his intentions. The tallest imp, Blitzø, warned him in colorful language that the grimoire didn’t work with sinners. Disappointing, but not his concern. He did, however, make the mistake of inquiring how exactly someone like him ever crossed paths with an Ars Goetia to begin with.

“Prince Stolas is Blitzø’s boyfriend,” the female imp said, her saccharine tone made Alastor’s smile sour.

“Don’t be so vulgar Millie,” Blitzø chastised, “just say we’re fucking.”

Alastor regretted his decision to stay in this building.

It was bad enough these little creatures didn’t have the decency to know who he was, they acted like he was another common sinner. Lucky for them, he wasn’t one to needlessly intimidate weaker beings like some run-of-the-mill ruffian.

”I want to inquire about your past work with my companion,” he said, hoping to steer the conversation back on track. “She’s had you kill the living before?”

”Oh yeah, she’s had us kill these two old pricks years ago,” Blitzø said, chest puffed in pride. “Easiest jobs we ever had. Those fucks were already one foot in the grave, it was like killing a baby.”

Tasteful. ”And has she ever explained why she wanted them dead?”

”Oh, no, no, no, no, no.” He fervently shook his finger, waving his arm around to emphasize his point. “I can’t go sharing our clients’ private information. We have a strict confidentiality clause.”

The hellhound receptionist scoffed. ”Oh yeah? Since when?”

“Since about five minutes after Tem set the van on fire. Look, uh, mister—””

“Alastor.”

”Right. Alastor, sir, if you want to know what her deal is with these guys you can go right ahead and ask her, okay? I’m not inviting the house fire she’ll cause when I tell you her personal shit. Word of advice: she gets real chatty after a couple of drinks but she also gets handsy if you catch my drift, so proceed with caution.”

His smile curled in distaste. He’d hit a dead end with the imps and they were no use to him. “I‘ll certainly keep that in mind.” He turned on his heel with a spin of his cane. “Farewell, little imps. Best of luck on your job.”

Alastor wasn’t about to let this go so easily. He glanced your way, your face almost serene as you hummed along to the radio. He couldn’t help but remember the palpable wrath that twisted your face when Blitzø mentioned your vendetta. The absolute venom beautifully contorted your features was a sight to behold. For a moment you burned with anger so thick he could taste it. He wanted to taste more of your rage, sample it on his tongue like a fine wine and swallow it all.

What could light the spark of your fury?

How would you look wielding that anger?

He couldn’t wait to find out.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist.

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