#stari rap

[ogrodytoprawda]

Nie powinno mnie tu być

Kukon

[asbestos-11]

aventurine is so lupo mc coded

[music-lab24]

MEMORY OF A MEMORY.

Wyobraź sobie, że jesteś w swoim rodzinnym domu, jest ciepłe popołudnie, a ty postanowił*ś uciąć sobie krótką drzemkę. Zasypiasz do odgłosów dnia codziennego — za oknem szum aut, szczekanie psów, ktoś gotuje coś w kuchni, a do sąsiada właśnie zjeżdżają się znajomi na grilla, więc ten odpala swoją klasyczną składankę ze starymi hitami. Próbujesz zasnąć przy mieszaninie różnych dźwięków i zaczynasz wędrować między snem a jawą. Odgłosy powoli przedostają się do twojej głowy i tworzą abstrakcyjne obrazy na ich podstawie. Sam już nie wiesz co jest prawdziwe. Tym właśnie jest hipnagogia. W psychologii termin ten używany jest by opisać stan, gdy w przejściowych fazach snu doświadcza się pewnych halucynacji wzrokowych, węchowych, dotykowych, czy też właśnie słuchowych (nie mylić z paraliżem sennym!). Jest to stan normalny, sporadyczny, który każdy z nas doświadczy przynajmniej kilka razy w życiu.

Przenieśmy się do początku XXI wieku, kiedy to owy termin zainteresował pewną grupę społeczną w USA na tyle by przyczyniło się to do utworzenia nowego nurtu muzycznego. Świat rozwija się w zawrotnym tempie, nowe technologie, nowe media i znaczny rozwój kultury kapitalistycznej. Nostalgiczne nastroje pchnęły artystów do ciekawych eksperymentów, w których to zaczynali odwoływać się do estetyki retro. Do rzeczy, które kojarzą się im z beztroskim czasem, w którym to w tle przygrywał stary radiowy rock, pop lub r&b.

Choć początków tego nurtu doszukiwać możemy się o wiele dawniej, tak popularność zyskał na przestrzeni lat 2000-2010. Głównymi propagatorami nazwać możemy przede wszystkim twórców takich jak Ariel Pink oraz James Ferrero. W ich twórczości doszukiwać możemy się inspiracji z prostego i jakby niektórzy powiedzieli prymitywnego popu i rocku, ze ścieżek dźwiękowych starych gier czy filmów, a nawet melodii, które przygrywały w centrach handlowych lub poczekalniach.

Dzisiejszy pop hipnagogiczny przede wszystkim ma za zadanie wywołać u odbiorcy poczucie nostalgii, tęsknoty za starymi czasami. W większości przypadków stosowany jest do tego zabieg, który zauważyć możemy również w nurcie lo-fi, czyli aranżacja dźwięku w taki sposób, aby brzmiał on jak gdyby nagrywany był na starej kasecie lub zgrywany z innych dawnych nośników audio.

Innymi gatunkami, które przyczyniły się do rozwoju h-popu były psychodelia i muzyka noise, co idealnie wpasowuje się w tematykę surrealizmu. Utwory te zaczarowują nasz umysł i przenoszą w inną rzeczywistość, niekoniecznie tą którą faktycznie przeżyliśmy. Ma na celu jedynie przywołać wyobrażenie jakiegoś momentu, korzystając ze strzępków pamięci, które przypominają nam pewny okres w życiu.

GATUNKI PODOBNE (o ile nie bliźniacze): Vaporwave, Chillwave, Lo-fi

Najlepiej przedstawić tą formę za pośrednictwem przykładów, dlatego zamieszczam tutaj listę utworów (mocno subiektywną), w których objawia się dzisiejsza hipnagogia na różne sposoby.

Noise: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N9GCxAuv1_8 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UbcThup3lgA

Psychodelia: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pQsF3pzOc54 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3XC6UEXMUHI R&B: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_i4n2f8LriQ

Synthpop: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ryvHj2z-0BM https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qlJ27Dcv4fc

Lounge: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B_bYIWexH5Q

Rap na hipnagogicznym podkładzie z pięknym outro: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5vVHPRZ21iE

Inne warte uwagi<3 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nee9d0wqBTQ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5Le1myp8Bpo https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jr6Cp8tEmow https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9tC-FOXioDo https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WvfJy8rbWUU https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XmVcJ01fDRk

[skrzynka]

luk skajłoker był raperem

walczył na rymy z dartem wejderem

także han solo i obi łan kenobi

mistrz yoda tluste bity robił

luk skajłoker był raperem

walczył na rymy z dartem wejderem

także han solo i obi łan kenobi

mistrz yoda tluste bity robił

na planecie tatoin się wychowywał

już wtedy każdy na podwyrku od niego obrywał

zrobił roboty - ziomal bez kitu

od robienia bitów był r2d2

wszystkie laski na planecie rżnął

tak dokładnie, joł, c3po

obi wan kenobi był jego mentorem

obaj na freestyle'u jechali hardcorem

obi pokładał nadzieje w skajłokerze

'luk przestań robić bity w music makerze'

wielka tajemnica typu gdzie jest nemo

dlaczego tak dlugo trzeba czekać na demo

kiedy na wydanie plyty byla juz nadzieja

zaczeli szukac dobrego dja

hana solo wybrala nasza paka

do ekipy dołączył tez mc chewbacca

gwiezdna missy eliot czyli ksiezniczka leia

spiewala kiedys w chórkach w rowerze blazeja

takze ona dolaczyla do ekipy

jabba the hut mial im krecic klipy

obi wan kenobi przestrzegal chlopakow

'nigdy nie schodźcie na ciemną strone rapu

ciemna strona rapu to komercyjne gowno

my jestesmy undergroundem i pojedziemy ich rowno'

wtedy zaczeli teksty pierwsze pisac

szybko nagrali na wejdera dissa

od wydania dissa minely godziny

a juz wader wyzwal nasza ekipe na rymy

gwiazda smierci komercyjna wytwornia

swojego sluchacza uwazaja za durnia

lecz bardzo silna maja ekipe

'luk musisz poprawic swoja technike'

'luk posluchaj jestes jeszcze mlody

ale musisz rozpoczac nauki u yody'

kim jest mistrz yoda luk czytal w gazecie

yoda najlepszy producent we wszechswiecie

mistrzu yoda to byl nauczyciel fajny

luk opanowal braggadacio i punchline'y

'luk moj chlopcze ty byc juz gotowy

musisz wyruszyc na liryczne łowy'

'lecz luk musisz ty trzymac sie hardo

bo darth wejder rymuje bardzo twardo

musisz byc gotowy na wielkiego hardcorea

bo wejder bral lekcje u imperatora'

kilka dni pozniej doszlo do bitwy

na ktorej lataly rymy ostre jak brzytwy

'dobrze luk wyzwol swoj gniew

ukaż swej zlosci prawdziwy zew'

'luk przejdź na ciemną strone rapu

zgarniaj hajs nie zarabiaj ochłapów

wszyscy w galaktyce sie nas boja'

'tak ale robicie gwiezdne disco polo'

luk nie dal sie przeciagnac na złą stronę

darcie wejderze masz przepierdzielone

'ze mnie pokonasz mozesz marzyc se

jestes juz stary jak dr dre'

'nie boje sie ciebie bo bylem w nabojce'

'luk ale ja jestem twoim ojcem'

'haha teraz to juz przesadziles

yoda powiedzial mi ze go zabiles'

'yoda dobrze klamie bo świetnie gra w pokera

masz przed soba anakina skajłokera

teraz przed tobą tatuś rymuje

yoda i obi to są zwykłe luje'

'posluchaj mnie teraz bardzo uważnie luk

nasz imperator to prawdziwy bóg

mamy świetne bity, laski w teledyskach

nasze kawałki lecą we wszystkich dyskach'

'jestem potężny dart wejder lecz

do walki nie tylko jest świetlny miecz

ale takze rymy tłuste i kosmate

luk nie pierdziel poprzyj swego tate'

'ojcze czy to naprawde ty

powiedz czemu stales sie zly?'

'nie stalem sie zly słuchaj swego taty

nie jestem zly po prostu bogaty'

'na tym polega wlasnie rap gra

nie chcesz miec hajsu tyle co ja?'

'oczywiscie ze chce mam w dupie obi wana

kiedy bierzemy sie za pierwsze nagrania?'

i tak wlasnie luk zszedl na rapu ciemna strone

teraz zgarnia co miesiac hajsu tone

cala galaktyka juz padla na kolana

nikt juz nie slucha plyt obi wana

takze o yodzie juz wszyscy zapomnieli

on nawet pisnac slowka sie nie osmieli

han solo i chewbacca male skurczysyny

teraz robia bity dla mandaryny

kolaboracja wadera z lukiem

od razu wybuchla z wielkim hukiem

ich debiutancki album zarobil miliony

tytul plyty - skoczta nam na pagony

luk skajłoker był raperem

walczył na rymy z dartem wejderem

także han solo i obi łan kenobi

mistrz yoda tluste bity robił

luk skajłoker był raperem

walczył na rymy z dartem wejderem

także han solo i obi łan kenobi

mistrz yoda tluste bity robił

[sen-tymenty]

z mordy trap ale stary rap w sercu

kocham ten klimat który tak nas zepsuł

[seriously-mike]

Dżej Balbina i Przygody z Żenującym Polskim Rapem

Tak, wiem, nie musicie mi mówić, polski rap był żenujący nawet zanim spróbowałem coś w tym gatunku wygenerować za pomocą Wielkiego Automatycznego Dyskopolizatora. Tym niemniej, wpadł mi w ucho ten kawałek z trailera do Modern Warfare II:

Tak, wiem, w komentarzach jebią go, że jest rapistą, a nie raperem, to jest część historii. Była taka rozmowa:

Ja: [...] jakie ten typ zrzuca bomby. Ja: Nie żebym coś rozumiał, ale te rymy proszą się o jakąś polską przeróbkę. Ja: (cośtam cośtam) wyższa kultura, Grzeję cały czas, nigdy nie stygnie mi rura (stygnie mi rura) 🤪 @jurian-is-cinnamon-roll: 🤣 Ja: (cośtam cośtam) sprzedam ci combo, Oldschoolowy styl mam jak Jean Paul Belmondo 🤪 @jurian-is-cinnamon-roll: 😂

No i teraz, po wymęczeniu mocno Batushkowego kawałka o Enshrouded pt. "Śmierć, Zło i Truskawki", zacząłem kombinować coś w tę stronę, tak dla jaj. Rozłóżmy tego nieszczęsnego Dżeja Balbinę na części pierwsze: jak to leci? Zwrotka, zwrotka, hook, hook, zwrotka, zwrotka, hook, hook, METALLICA. Pierwsza zwrotka robi eo eo, druga zwrotka robi ongo ongo, trzecia i czwarta robią ura ura. Z eo eo ni chuja nic nie wymyśliłem, ale z resztą, jak z rozmowy wynikło, już się coś udało pokleić. Jak mi Udio zapodało pierwszy rezultat, to już był catchy, mimo że jedna zwrotka zajęła całe 12 sekund z 32-sekundowego fragmentu:

NO KURWA ZIOM. Tekst idzie następująco:

Oldschoolowy styl mam jak Jean-Paul Belmondo,  Nabijam kille jak bongo, jak jointy kręcę to combo Mam totalny chill, maniana niczym w Macondo, A ty cholero, killi masz zero w tabeli okrągłe jak rondo!

Miał być Belmondo, jest. Miało być combo, jest. Nawet, jak u Tedego, jest bumbap. Zwróćcie uwagę na interpunkcję: zapomniałem przecinka na końcu drugiej linijki i tam jest taki dziwny przeskok do trzeciej - ale ja już mówiłem, że Wielkie Automatyczne Dyskopolizatory lubią symetrię i regularność. I tak, skoro już zacząłem kombinować w stronę robienia rapsów o Call of Duty, z tym combo i zerem killi w tabeli, a totalnie się nie spodziewam że wyjdzie mi przyklejenie całego hiphopowego kawałka do ostatniego refrenu "The Lord and the Sword", które ma podobne braggadoccio tylko w stylu Vadera, to pomyślałem "A gdyby spróbować wydusić rockowy podkład, taki jak mam w intrze do GIT GUD?"

Oryginalny kawałek jest wzięty z serwisu royalty-free, trochę go dociąłem żeby mi się zmieścił w 40 sekundach, ale o tym kiedy indziej. Mianowicie, między ten gruby wers o Belmondo a drugi, który jeszcze mi się nie do końca klei, wstawiłem hook. Też zerżnięty od Dżeja Balbiny, tylko on tam robi aro aro uro aro, a to się na polski słabo adaptuje, więc zrobiłem rewrite, głównie o tym, że czterdziestka na karku a ja i tak depczę leszczy w tym CODzie aż miło:

Może i jestem stary, Zgubi cię twój brak wiary, Ja jadę na grubooo, i nie tracę pary (pary, pary). Może i jestem stary, Zgubi cię twój brak wiary, Ja jadę na grubooo, narobię ci siary (hehehe).

Audio to jest jakaś trzecia czy czwarta iteracja puszczona dla odmiany przez Suno i strasznie mi zajeżdża Neffexem z Youtube Audio Library. Te trzy "o" tam są żeby sprawdzić czy AI odczyta mi to poprawnie i przeciągnie, i jak słychać - przeciąga, przynajmniej w trzech próbach na cztery. To w nawiasach to miał być backing vocal, i wyszedł bardzo średnio na jeża, ale jak mi się odświeży zapas kredytów, albo wydam hajs na konto premium żeby móc się tymi kawałkami lansować na Spotify (bo już jestem dogadany z pośrednikiem, wystarczy że spełnię ten warunek, to może dostanę 0,00013 dolara za każde tysiąc odsłuchów jak Prawdziwi Artyści™), to się jeszcze to wyklepie.

[f0xd13-blog]

Sometimes I'm so pissed that I might stary speaking in an unknown language my friends tell me I'm rapping in some language from outside of planet earth but it's a language

[bosnian-legend]

Ponekad imas taj filing,

da je ceo jebeni svet u kurcu

imaš taj trip da ljudi uporno šire mržnju

teška osečanja, kao fol

tako im lakše, bolje ili šta več.

Šta ja znam,

e onda skontaš

da ipak u srcu imaš mesta

za onu pravu ljubav

i totalno ti se jebe za sve

u glavi ti samo sine misao

da voliš i kazes sebi ja volim.

-Marchelo

[plusgonzo]

nowy numer

[00beznadziejna00]

Obok mnie nadal jest zło

~ Kukon

[kalferslyn]

Ahhhh jisung cada día me enamoras mas

JISUNG about ’secret secret’

[cichutkie-marzenia]

Jeśli stałeś za mną. Wiem, że stałeś za mną. Ale tak się kręci życie, stary. Dwie najbardziej krwiożercze grupy to są, wiesz, udawane ziomki, które chcą, żebym im coś załatwił i stare ziomki, które myślą, że jestem im coś winien. A prawda jest taka, że...

Taco Hemingway

[anotherscrappile]

woah 97 percent is a lot!! can i ask what are your favorite bands/artists?

Sure thing! Here’s some of the bands that take up quite a bit of space on my main playlist:

100 gecs (hyperpop)

AJR (pop)

Anacondaz (Russian rap)

Andrews Sisters (swing)

Blue Öyster Cult (hard rock/metal)

Caravan Palace (electro swing)

Dark Moor (neo-classical metal)

The Dreadnoughts (punk/sea shanty)

Guilhem Desq (hurdy gurdy player <3)

I DONT KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME (pop/rock)

Lemon Demon (alt. rock)

Linkin Park (metal [still like it from my emo phase])

The Longest Johns (sea shanties)

Muse (rock)

OK Go (pop/rock [the cool music video guys])

Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky (yeah. the classical Russian composer)

Stary Olsa (folk)

Steam Powered Giraffe (steampunk)

Stupendium (video game rap)

Sullivan King (dubstep)

Will Wood (or Will Wood and the Tapeworms) (avant-pop)

[slater-later]

I Want to Watch You Grow

Brian Kelly x Trans Masc Reader

Read it here on AO3 if you would like!

- This is a Brian Kelly x Trans Man reader fan fic. This conronicles your long term relationship with Brian and your development with yourself. Your body, and transition as a transman.

- I hope everyone enjoys this. Finds space within themselves and their relationship with the world. It’s okay to be trans, being trans is beautiful. it’s a difficult, glorious journey that is far more of a beginning then an end. Living happy life, being proud of yourself and your body.

- The fic is long, about 12 pages. So please, soak it in, and I wish you the happiest day!

The two of you had been dating for some time. You had met at a small high school party. A good group of friends coming together around a Summer bonfire, slipping your feet out from the well worn sandals and wiggling them infront of a fire. The soles of your feet toasted, turning them around to be goldened on both sides. You held a long metal skewer with two plump marshmallows on the end, rotating it around as you warmed it to a golden ball of glory.

It was sweet, being able to spend time with old friends and make some new. Your friend Ronnie had invited the skater kids from school to join you. He had bonded with them over their mutual love for rock and rap music. It made sense, they both loved Public Enemy. Blasting ‘We Got the Power’ out of their car radios whenever they had a chance. 

You enjoyed it, they threw out some good rhymes and it was a battle cry for your youth. You generation. You couldn’t help but bob your head to the music and belt along.

It was towards the end of the night when you two met. Brian had showed up late, hair slicked with a heavy line of sweat. A shirt quickly shoved into his pants, trying to clean up for his group of friends after a long day of skating.

He had skipped out of work that day- well, really, the restaurant was slow so there wasn’t much need for two busboys. He had spent the rest of his afternoon and late into the stary night, skating at the skatepark. The street lights clicked on and it had made it hard for him to see the clear edges of the ramps. It was time to turn in and get a bite to eat. Putting aside the new trick he caught from someone else. Trying to nail it. 

If he knew it could be done, then he could. He just needed enough time and perseverance to figure it out.

With skating, the possibilities were endless. It was his place to let go of life’s worries and focus on something where had complete control. The complete right to be, what and who he is, with no to tell him otherwise. Skating was like a lifeblood for him, his way of life.

His boundless universe.

He came jogging in, skateboard in hand as he approached the group huddled around the warm fire. 

The trees swayed, creaking under the age and weight of their own majesty with a long gust of wind. It was dark, the hum of Summer turning to a deep pitch of haze. Black rolling in, only to be illuminated by the glaze of starfull and a half crescent moon. The forest was thick, lulled by the hum of heated crickets and hushed by the cool breeze of night. Smoke pooling from the warm fire, whisping and licking up the sky with powerful might. Your toes curled, seeking a gentle relief from its delightful burning flame.

They were roasted and baked. You tucked them into the ground, shifting your heals to push back the brush and find a damp, cool, interior.

Brian waved, throwing an arm up to welcome everyone. A boy buzzed in the background, rolling a hit out of a cheaply made bong. Coughing as he blew out his lungs. Stoned till’ the cows come home.

“Hey guys! Sorry I’m late, it uh, took me a while to find you guys,” He smiled, strolling on into the circle and making his way over to Yabbo. Giving him a high five and saying hello to Buddy. 

You popped your marshmallow onto a graham cracker and some chocolate. You munched on your treat, washing it down with a sip of beer.

You watched Brian that night, catching his eyes as he chatted with Buddy over some trick he had been captivated by. Transfixed on trying to nail, to, gleam the cube. 

He noticed, his shit stain smirk would appear even in mid sentence. Hands flailing out, gesturing and expressing his exasperation on some wild tangent he was on about skating. About life. About love. It was amusing to watch him, loud and audacious as he was. He could even make Buddy loud, who was normally a quiet and reserved guy. Get him chuckling about some silly joke he made, and pairing it with an audacious face. Hands whipped out, a cross between a dragon and a gorilla.

You had finished off your second beer, musing with a friend about the stars as you gazed. Heads turned up, pondering the wide expanse of space. Its’ glorious bounds, its beauty, its’ wonder.

It put things in perspective for you. Not in a scary way, but in a comforting one. That sometimes, our emotions can feel massive. And they can be! But they also fall away, soothe and ease, as we realize, this shall pass. As all things. Even life. And so, what we must work towards is enjoying it. Like moments like these- feet kicked up on a stump, back eased into a lawn chair with a good beer in hand, spending time with friends. The summer breeze cooling your warm skin, still tanned and glowing from a long day spent outside. Walking, running, and spending time with those that mattered to you. You can’t steal back time, but instead, enjoy it.

Brian tapped Buddy’s shoulder, gesturing for him to shift over as he stood up. Slicking to the outside of the circle, making his way over.

He stopped at the bag of mellows, nabbing two and popping one in his mouth. Munching on its sugary goodness as he finished the trip. Sliding down and popping on the ground, criss-cross-apple-sauce style.

You picked your chin up from the stars, turning your head towards him, “Hey.”

“Hey,” He smiled tiredly, softly. It had grown late and the group had died down, calming and chatting amongst themselves. “So, I uh, don’t think I caught your name,” He mused, chuckling with an anxious delight. He had caught your fancy and talking to attractive people always made his insides flutter.

“It’s Y/N, what’s yours?” You smiled, letting out a tiny yawn, hand hovering over your mouth.

And on command, it was his turn. “Briannn.” He said, pushing through his wide open mouth, eyes turning to closed slits. Watering. 

“Jesus, I’m beat,” He muttered, whipping his eyes.

“You too?” You couldn’t stop, the two of you speaking through widely stretched mouths, yawning and releasing the tired souls of your body out into the air. Like ghosts being exercised. 

“Yeah!” He squeaked, putting his hand over his mouth. This time his mouth reaching out farther. As if a shark could unhinge its massive jaw.

Slowly, both of yours bodies cooled down. Chatted about the quiet, peaceful sounds of the forest. How the night made your feel alive, at ease within your own body. It was easy talking with such a nice man, cracking soft jokes and poking fun at the world. The politicians, the fat cats, and parents. Some stupid shit a drunk girl did at school, how the one guy on the football team fucked the head swimmer and stirred drama in the theatre group. He had been dating Jared, but it all fell for shit when he saw Sam in those swim trunks.

You both agreed, he looked mighty fine in the spandex speedo. And Tom did too, especially when he found out how kind he was.

“So who do you think is the biggest class clown? Don or Vinny?” You mused, shifting your weight in your seat. Turning towards him.

“Ahhh, I’m not so sure. Vinny is my man, but I really like Tabitha-”

“That bitch?” You shot, clicking your tongue. “She fucking stole $20 out of my backpack, fuck her!”

His eyebrows knitted, looking disappointed. “Yeahhh, she ain’t very nice. I disagree with you there,” He looked at the blaze, shaking his head. “But it’s not a ‘frienship’ competition. I give her props pouring that bottle of stinky slick on that jerk in Ceramics. That one that makes all those gross racist comments in school.” Fuck him for his piece of shit mind. There was no reason to be like that.

“-Ugh!” Your eyes rolled, shaking your head, “I know, I fucking hate him. He’s a piece of shit,” Internally you groaned, thinking of his disgusting face.

“For that, I respect her. The fool won’t change his mind and he needs to learn that he can’t do shit like that. It’s not like he’ll listen, I’ve tried,” He popped a mellow into his mouth, chewing. “She got 3 days of suspension for that. It was pretty ballsy,” Shitting on racist was both funny and satisfying. 

“What-? Why did she get that-?”

He shrugged, looking amazed, “I don’t know. It’s fucked up, that’s school for ya. It’s not right.”

You shook your head disgusted. If only they would understand, listen. “Ok, so, who has your favorite comedy?

“-Sam,” He smiled, poking a branch into the fire.

You watched him stir up the flame, picking at a log and turning it over. 

“Same, he’s really nice. He’s quiet but he has a smart tongue on him,” Slowly the fire grew. Emboldened by the new life, “Tom’s really lucky.”

Brian shot you a look, teeth flashing in a grin, “Cuz Jared’s so hot?”

You shot up in your seat, pushing yourself closer to him- “Okay though, right?!” Brian burst out laughing, head thrown back as he boomed. 

You waved your hands up into the air, desperately. “He has those pecs! Those thick arms! I just wanna be hugged by him!” He was a big tall teddy bear! A muscular one too! Who doesn’t love a big teddy bear?!

“I know, I know!” He slapped his knee, face red and warm, and it wasn’t from the booze. “He’s cute! He’s really cute!” He laughed, smiling through his big open mouth.

The two of you talked for the rest of the night, making another round of smores and sipping on the last of your cold beer. It was easy, talking to him. You found a kind of warm comfort and acceptance by such a free soul. By someone who really just wanted to be seen and heard, and loved for who he was.

*****

That night would bloom into many others. A few months you spent together, as friends, and the others, as lovers. You slowly got to know each other over time progressed. Eventually, love bloomed. Infatuation took to desire, day dreaming about the next time you’d see him. Hand propping your chin, staring off into a whiteboard filled with math equations as the teacher droned on. The last week of school was a buzzkill, bittersweet, and painfully long. 

You wanted it to end. For it to be Summer, to be scott-free and without responsibilities. But that also brought changes and your second stage of life was on the horizon.

****

The time came and both of you decided to take a year off from college. Work and save up some money. Spend time together as much you can. 

You planned on going away to school a few hours away. Brian hadn’t quite decided, but it looked to be the same. 

Both of you would attend the same school and it would work out well. Eventually, you both got through the next four years with your brains intact for the better. He majored in music production with a minor in entrepreneurship. He wanted to do something in music, start his own band and maybe build his own label. You majored in _____ and loved it. And your relationship had lasted, strengthened. Finding a quiet peace and home in one another. A thing you quietly wished for in your heart and didn’t know you needed until you found it.

The freedom to be yourself with another. One who would love and accept you, regardless of the circumstances and the changes.

But it didn’t always make it easy. You had been having feelings about your body. Ones that you didn’t quite like and found increasingly frustrating to have. To not have the words, the names, to understand and express how you felt.

You already knew you weren’t straight. That had long been established to yourself and to Brian’s knowledge. He didn’t care- well, that wasn’t quite the right way to put it. He was supportive of your queerness and actually encouraged it. You both were fluid as a snake- bodies and gender thrown right out of the door. What mattered was the person, the attraction, and the two of you- had a lot of that for one another.

He also wasn’t one to put up many questions about the way you dressed. Switching out fem for? Masculine? He was game. He liked your style, even sowed on some patches on your jacket when he asked. Though as time wore on, catching the way you shield away from your chest… Your feelings about your body… He noticed. 

“Hey babe?” He slid into the frame of the doorway, hand grasping the side of the wood as he leaned in. Watching you do your hair, clothed, and fixing your hair.

“Yeah? What’s up?” You looked at him through the mirror, running a comb through your head. “Is my coffee ready?”

“Yeah, it’s on the kitchen table. With your toast,” He walked in, looking quiet. Tentative. “Can I talk to you about something?”

You turned, “Yeahhhh…” Your voice fluttered, knowing that face he makes. It made you uneasy. “What do you wanna talk about?”

“Are you… alright? You’ve been distant lately, like somethings on your mind,” He paused, looking down. Guilty, “Did I do something wrong? Are we alright?” He leaned his back against the wall, thumbs hooked into his jean pockets. Glancing up at you.

You set down the brush, turning, “Yeah,” You coed softly. Tenderly to the sweet man, “We’re okay, I’m just going through some stuff,” It was easier to put that into words. You needed time to figure things out, to share how you felt. You didn’t even have them for yourself, at least not clearly.

You hoped time would reveal itself, help your understand and work through what you were feeling.

And you didn’t know how it would change you. Or, for the matter, Brian. Your relationship with him.

He gestured to you, beat, “Do you.. Wanna talk about it?”

It fell on silence, unsure.

“Yes… but not now. I need some time,” You stepped, drawing his eyes.

“Like… how long?” It was bugging him, an itch he can’t scratch. A problem he saw, a frustration he can’t touch.

It was yours, and one that effected him. He wanted you happy and content.

To ease your pain.

“I’m not sure,” You slipped a hand into his and locked fingers together. Drawing his hand up and lined your hips with his. Brian’s other slip around your waist, pulling you close. “You’re going to have to wait, to trust me until I’m ready to talk about it. But I do love you- and it’s not because of you,” You pressed your lips to his, slowly lifting them away. “Or something you’ve done. We’re okay.”

“Alright, I just-” He looked into your eyes, vulnerable. “I want you to be happy, no matter what. Whatever it is.”

“And I thank you for that, I really do. I appreciate it,” Another press, lips locked, tongues twisting for a moment. 

“Oh? Is someone?” 

You laughed, caught red-handed, “Yeah, a bit.” You mused.

****

And for a while, it was left like that. You ordered yourself a proper binder and he was properly happy for you, seeing you excited to go and slip it on as soon as it came in the mail. You checked yourself out in the mirror, beaming as you found a sense of newfound confidence and comfort in your appearance. Your body.

He liked the way you smelled after you changed deodorants. You smelled rich and musky, one that you both adored. For him, it was intoxicating. Even picked up your armpit in bed as you yelped, his head buried in your pit to get a good whiff of your scent. Both of you sent laughing and shouting and you play fought in bed, beating back the monster you so endearingly loved.

“Fucking hell Brian!! Give me my arm back!”

“No! Never!” He bellowed, hand tightening around your wrist, pinning it against the wall as your feet kicked against him. He loved it, making you mad and crazy at the same time.

Tickling was your enemy! One that he used and abused, to get you laughing and squirming as he tied his body around yes. Pressing kisses to your cheek like a woodpecker.

****

Eventually, you found answers. The internet helped and a good stack of books about gender. It worked to ease your feelings about your body and the amount of envy you had for the masculine. It was difficult at first, being able to sort through attraction and gender envy at the same time. Slowly, you found answers. A confirmation of your feelings and way of life. The amount of euphoria you received when the simple stranger called you ‘man’ or ‘sir’ felt glorious. Elating and at home with yourself in a way that felt right. A homecoming.

You started to approach the subject with Brian. The two of you were friends with trans people, but it still felt fresh. Weird, and confusing to go through yourself. Being trans still didn’t give you cut and dry answers, it was a journey. A grey area because, even through they had gone through that journey, it was still personal. You had to find answers for yourself and the world is a weird, wild place.

But, it didn’t mean you were something else. Or strange for that matter- you were you, and that’s what mattered. You were exploring.

You two had been laying in bed. A quiet Saturday day spent outside, running errands and going to the farmers market to buy fresh produce and bread. It was lovely and peaceful. You guys had turned into bed early, curled under a soft comforter as you sprawled out in bed. The sun had set.

“Hey,” You whispered, dusting a piece of long hair out of his face. He was turned towards you, a fit of blankets wrapped around him as his body cupped towards yours. 

“Hey,” He yawned, eyes fluttering in sleepiness.

You dusted a finger along his jaw, his chest slowly rising and falling. A ham all baked like a warm potato. “Can we talk?”

He shifted his head closer to your touch, liking the way you slowly stroked his skin. “Yeah, what’s up?” He yawned.

“I’ve been thinking, for a while now. That I might be trans,” You paused, wanting to release the next few words from your brain. “I think I am.”

“Oh?” He shifted up, sitting up now and trying to wake up his brain. Serious conversation time. “Really?” His voice was kind, asking for confirmation.

You nodded, “Yes.”

“As in nonbinary or trans masc?” He ran a hand through his hair, swooping the fluff back. Pulling himself together.

You laughed, feeling the butterflies swarm in your stomach. “Trans masculine.”

“Okay,” he smiled, nodding. Taking it in. “So uh, what do you want to do? If anything at all?”

“Honey-” You pestered, giving him a look.

“I’m asking! That’s up to you!” He was ginger, trying not to pry but dying inside. The questions!

“Clothes, that’s for one thing.”

“You’re already wearing my boxers- we gotta get you more of those.”

You had been stealing them from him. They were comfy, among other things. You couldn’t help but crack a guilty smile. He had mentioned it before when he had ran out, pissed because he hated wearing dirty ones.

“And shirts, and some good cuffed jeans-” You added.

“Dickie’s has those, we can thrift you Carhart’s from Goodwill.”

You paused, holding your breath. Holding onto the next few words, as if they couldn’t be taken back. Releasing them into the world, “And transitioning. I think I want to do that too.” 

He reached for your hand, his thumb stroking your palm as the two of you laid in bed. Him looking down at you as your sprawled out, your elbow propping yourself up. “Okay, if that’s what you want, I support you. I want that too,” He pulled up your hand and pressed his lips to them softly. Firmly intertwining his fingers with yours, squeezing them tightly. Securely.

“Do you want to go by different pronouns? A name?”

“Yes, I want to be named Y/N,” You smiled, feeling his hands pull you in.  Draw around you in a deep hug as he slid down to your level, comforting and embracing you. “I want to go by he/him pronouns.” You chuckled against his skin, head buried into the crook of his neck.

“Well hello my Prince, I’m so glad to meet you Y/N,” He pressed a kiss to your cheek, smiling through it as your heart brust. Crying in relief, in tears of joy and relief.

“You’re not mad?” You squeaked, tears rolling down your cheek.

“Baby~” He purred, pulling back, to look into your eyes. “Of course not, I want you to be happy. You’re precious to me,” He said, soothing you. “Is this what’s been bothering you?”

You nodded.

“I’ve been… wondering about it,” He mused. “I kinda figured it out after you bought your binder and started shaving your face. You barely had peach fuz but you looked so happy… so, much more bright that day,” You had slowly been trying things out. Listening to your body and how you felt. Changing your style, presenting more masculine. You even bought clothes from the men’s section and started to let go using gender specific pronouns for yourself. To ease the pain of dysphoria while you figured out feelings. Your therapist helped. 

“But I’ve been waiting until you tell me, that’s your stuff,” He wiped your chin, brushing off the stream of tears. “I know you’d tell me eventually, whatever your answer was- I want to support you. I chose that long ago, I stand by that.” He smiled, adding, “And if things change in the future, that’s okay too. Gender and bodies are a tricky thing.”

There was so many choices- my so options- in how trans people choose to express themselves. All of them are valid, it’s what makes you happy is the most important thing. What aligns with yourself.

“Thank you,” You sniffled, peaking out a smile. You were happy, and now tired, and just wanted to curl up in bed. The rush of emotions flooding your system, the bent of stress and relief washing over your system. Draining you. 

You wanted to feel this moment in its security, its acceptance. “That means a lot to me Brian.”

“Of course- and for what it matters-” He leaned into your ear, whispering, “I think you make a handsome man. And will continue too.” 

“It doesn’t change things- between us?”

He shrugged, unfazed, “I don’t think so. I’m attracted to you and I like men so-” Another quizzical look, “I don’t see how it would change things in that department. I think I need to know more but I don’t think so.”

You raised an eyebrow, “What do you mean?”

“I want to read more about it so I can help you. I know it can be hard for trans people to get the resources they need to transition. We’re going to both go through this and I want to help you. -If that’s what you want, of course.”

“Oh! Okay,” you nodded. You slid down together, laying in each others arms. Curled underneath the seats, your tears dried up. Heart shining. “I want that, your help. I fucking hate calling the doctors office.”

He laughed, “I know! I know!” You would get stressed, talking on the phone could be weird sometimes. It made you anxious.

You tucked your head into his chest, hearing it beat with the life you held so closely. His arms wrapped around your waist, holding you close. “Thank you Bri, for everything.”

“Of course Y/N,” He spoke softly, warm. “I love you, you’re my everything.”

The two of you drifted off to sleep in bed, listening to the sound of Summer rain come in through the window. Drops slapping against the hard concrete, easing you into a deep slumber.

****

The two of you got along better after that. You were able to save up enough money to see a gender therapist. A general practice doctor that specialized in transgender health, giving you access to the hormone treatments you so desperately needed.

The changes came slow at first, the T being newly added to your system. Eventually, the body hair came in. Sprouting up your legs and turning thicker, darker, up your knees. Your body weight shifted, redistributing around your body with a healthy addition of exercise. Your jaw widened, spotting itself with facial hair which you so proudly grew. Cleaned up and trimmed, sculpting it to your desire. 

That was one of your favorite moments. When you asked Brian to show you how he shaved his face. He pulled out of his bag of clippers, helped you learn how to wash your face and spread shaving cream on your face. How to guide the razor against your skin, trimming the well grown facial hair.

“-Like this- you gotta go against the grain if you want it smooth,” You were both creamed up, with your hair clipped back. He had a headband pushing his strands back, keeping it from falling into his face.

“Okay,” You mumbled in front of the mirror, guiding the razor across your skin. Wincing when you nicked yourself and hoping you don’t do that again.

“It’ll get easier, trust me,” He assured, slicking the last bit of cream off of his clean face. He mostly kept himself clean shaven, though there was a time where he rocked a thin mustache. Even some musky stubble around his cheeks. Which you loved.

And so was your transition. 

In time, you qrew to love and enjoy your body even more. Seeing the face you so expected- and wished for- being reflected in the mirror. Muscles come in, adjusting your body shape to one that you desired.

Brian was very supportive. Even helped you find a good doctor for your top surgery. He pitched in money for your procedure, taking some extra hours as the store manager at the record shop where he worked. He was planning on taking it over from the owner in a few years. He had helped them expand into a second storefront. He was proud of it.

He drove you to your surgery, making sure you had everything prepared. Extra magazines, music, books, even your sketch pad and journal if you so wished it. You would sleep after your surgery in the hospital bed, groggy and tired from the boat load of meds and painkillers lulling you to a peaceful state. He wanted to make sure you were content, that you healed well and passed the time while you recovered. The tiny hospital tv having few channels to capture your attention. He ready to help you pass the time.

After your surgery, you couldn’t move your arms very much. At least not above your head. It would pull at your incisions, the area bruised and draining of fluids. He would tend to you, changing your bandages and helping you get things from the kitchen cupboards. Asking you to relax and let him take over- when you insisted on cooking dinner. That you felt fine, that the pain wasn’t too bad. Even though your chest ached, he didn’t want you to push yourself.

It was okay to lean on someone else, to let them tend to you at times in need.

He adored you and embraced the new found man you had become. He liked hearing you softly talk into his ear, listening to how your voice had dropped. Had changed, deepened, and thickened. It was an adventure for the both of you, one that you happily embraced and found a new home. In you, yourself, and each other.

He was proud to call you his boyfriend, his favorite man on Earth.

[sooahvld]

Hi Hello!! I’m Lily and i’m so excited to be back!!  So here i introduce you to my squish Ong Sooah! Under the cut you will find some facts about here and a shorter bio!. If you want to plot pls like this and I will shoot you a message! <3

Bio | Profile | Public Profile | Plots |

Acting: 8/10 Singing: 10/10 Dancing: 9/10 Rapping: 3/10 Variety: 5/10

BIO/APP

Ong Sooah, unique name for a unique girl.

Born (96 liner) and raised in seoul by her parents and granny and in a small part by her sister.

Always had  pleasant singing voice to the ear even as a kid and it only became powerful  as she grew up though not many knew about it bc she was shy to show it.

Casted during an afternoon in a karaoke with her friends. Her friends were actually the ones that convinced her to accept the offer of becoming a trainee.

Her training period was a total of 6-7 years .-.

Trained with PiP girls  but was left out of the final line up because she had ‘more growing to do’ that was actually pointed towards her shy persona and she took that advice.

Trained for 3 years more before she made it to B.witched

She had to get used to be and to act like one of the oldest but she tries her best. Understanding and gentle but serious when needed. (basically tries to be like  scoups to his svt <3 )

Tries to keep it down when they are in shows/interviews giving the girls their time to shine only goofing around when it’s their own vlive/show.

B.witched’s embarrassing parent:  dad jokes, compliments, proud of you 24/7 and will shout it to the world and super into skinship. (sorry b.witched)

Known as KMG princess for the amout of time she spent there as a trainee by fans and antis though the intentions are different:  antis call her that under the claim that b.witched was made for her (obviously not the case) while fans call her that as a praise thinking she is ‘worthy of the title bc of her talent’.

whenever this happens Sooah only wants to hide under a rock and never come out, dislikes the nickname for the preasure she feels but covers it with a smile.

Personality:

Pre-debut/Early debut :The sweet girl is an introvert, shy upon meating new people which was one of the reasons she wasn’t as noticed as the other girls until her beauty glow up during recent comebacks. Yet now the girl has charmed quite a lot of fans and non fans all together, still the girl is unsure of how to act with this news. Easily tired and slowly is pushing herself out of her shell thought still struggles.

Present: Soft girl. Her eyes are the softest while starying at their fans and cares trully for them and it is shown with how she always takes the letters that they write for her or other members with a smile, tender hand holding during meetings and is a sweetheart towards them. Still a soft spoken, tender hearted baby who is hidden behind a hyper puppy

[pogrzebane]

Z mordy trap, ale stary rap w sercu, kocham ten klimat, który tak nas zepsuł

Pikers - charon