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hillbillyoracle · 3 months

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You Should Get A Radio

I want to convince you to get a radio. It can be a pretty cheap one - you can sometimes thrift them even - just something to listen to the music and shows that are literally streaming completely for free all around you right this very moment.

Libraries get a lot of love - deservedly so. They are such a frugal resource for entertainment and the community at large. I would argue that radio is very similar.

Find New Music

Radio can introduce you to music you never would have run across otherwise. Spotify and the like have a goal of getting you to listen for as long as possible. This incentivizes the alorgithm picking your music recs to stay very safely within your known listening profile. But since a radio station is broadcasting to a large number of people, not you individually, you're more likely to run into music you personally wouldn't have picked but actually enjoy.

Not to mention that if you're in the US at least, you're very likely within range of a public broadcasting station which not only has local and national news, but various music shows as well - World Cafe is a treasure. College radio stations, if you have one nearby by, can be hit or miss, but in general, it is a great way to find local and very niche music you wouldn't hear played anywhere else. If you're in a city, you very likely have a couple of hyperlocal low power FM stations - many who serve communities who don't speak English and who have their own unique music programming. I also enjoy a lot of the adult contemporary and "oldies" stations I can get near me.

The Ads Aren't Targeted

On most stations, you'll hear some ads. Some stations you'll hear more than a few. But none of those ads are based on an ever growing mass of information being collected about you and your listening habits to decide what specific ad you're most likely to actually act on. They're just...an ad. When you turn it off, it can't follow you around until you actually buy it.

Also, if you're listening to local stations, a lot of the ads are for local businesses in your community; places owned by your neighbors and the people you live with. For me, it's been a nice way to be reminded of what places exist in my community since I usually go to my regular haunts and nothing else.

Frugal and Fun

Radios can be pretty cheap. I see them in thrift stores pretty regularly around here and you might be able to try Marketplace for one. Mine was a birthday gift and I paid a little more to upgrade the antena later. Mine uses rechargeable batteries but I think they make ones that are just straight up rechargeable now.

Since I can't control the music, I'm not turning to it to skip through music or pick a different playlist or look up a given artist I want to hear because I just remembered they existed. I'm more present, whether I'm just listening to the show or pairing it with something else (recently it's been knitting or solitaire games).

Similar to the way that libraries can be one way you decrease your reliance on subscription culture, radio is another. Especially for public broadcasting stations, the programming is always changing, there are new shows every week, and there are often ways for you to get involved. It's another form of entertainment that often gets overlooked.

It's Screen Free

Not much to say here. It's just a big plus to me. I'm trying to take more breaks from screens and make the time I do spend on screens less addictive. I like that I can throw on a radio station and listen to a show without ever having to resist the urge to check email or something.

Vital in Emergencies

Have you thought of how you'd get information during an emergency if the internet goes out? Radio is a great option and still regularly saves lives. In the event of emergencies, local radio stations are often some of the very first people to get information on where shelters are being set up, where resoruces are being distributed, and how to stay safe through the course of the event. Depending on the event, emergency managers will actually bring in radio equipment to keep broadcasting going if there's been damage to a tower and even set up temporary/mobile station up to get the word out if there's not a local station they can partner with.

On days when the weather isn't looking so great, I often have the weather band radio turned on so I can get the latest NWS forecasts and hear when a watch is issued - phones usually only get warnings unless you go out of your way to sign up for more. And out where I live, I usually don't even get those since cell signal is spotty.

It's a great investment in your safety that you can also enjoy whenever.

Conclusion

Buy a radio. Especially if you're looking to get away from subscriptions and cut costs. You can own your radio - you can't own Spotify. It's also just something I think everyone should have since it's such a vital resource in emergencies.

ETA: I am a young millinial. I grew up with radio and remember a time before the internet so I'm not saying any of this as if I'm discovering it. It's more I've been not only enjoying it a lot lately but reminded that a lot of people aren't aware of everything it offers so I wanted to share that in case it was news to anyone.

#I don't know what to tag this #radio #frugal #social sobriety #low screen #no screen #it's just a very good idea okay #cord cutting

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tropinano · 9 months

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List of As Many Fiction Podcasts As I Could Think Of

NOT ORGANIZED! This is a big list of fiction podcasts with no descriptions, meant for the sole purpose of picking one based on the title and just trying it out. Just a big ol' list of titles. Kindof like a blind date! Explore a couple of the ones that intrigue you and come back later for more.

The Hotel

The Night Post

I am in Eskew

Whisperling

Residents of Proserpina Park

The Daedalus Compound

EOS10

The Magnus Archives

Francis Forever

SMILE GROVE

Janus Descending

The Godfrey Audio Guide

Old Gods of Appalachia

Camp Here & There

The Way We Haunt Now

Jack of All Trades

SUPERSUITS

Illuminati Interns

Death by Dying

Life with Leo(h)

Hello from the Hallowoods

Malevolent

The 12:37

Spirit Box Radio

Lost Terminal

Desperado

Neighbourly

The Switchboard

The Mistholme Museum of Mystery, Morbidity and Mortality

Aurora Everlasting

The Swashbuckling Ladies Debate Society

CARAVAN

The Amelia Project

Jar of Rebuke

Monstrous Agonies

Where the Stars Fell

Kisses In The Dark

The Town Whispers

Uncommon Commons

The Author's Anathema

Elevator Pitch

Brimstone Valley Mall

Kane & Feels

Middle:Below

The McIlwraith Statements

Caledonian Gothic

I have seen Niagara

Petrified

In Darkness Vast

The Outside Tapes

Seren

Gather the Suspects

This Foul Earth

John from Home

Glasgow Ghost Stories

The Tower

The Antique Shop

either

Tales from Aletheian Society

The Secret of St Kilda

The Green Horizon

Road X

THE NOWHERE MALL

Seven of Hearts

The Department of Variance of Somewhere, Ohio

SubverCity Transmit

The Nuclear Solution

Inkwyrm

Jim Robbie and the Wanderers

Burst

With Caulk and Candles

This Planet Needs a Name

The Glass Appeal

Mar's Best Brisket

Nym's Nebulous Notions

Midnight Radio

The Bright Sessions

When Angels Visit Armadillo

The Mysterious Secrets of Uncle Bertie's Botanarium

Nowhere, On Air

Dark Ages

Welcome to Night Vale

The Silt Verses

Care & Feeding of Werewolves

The Bridge

The Far Meridian

ars PARADOXICA

Among the Stars and Bones

Counterbalance

Primordial Deep

Hannahpocalypse

Someone dies in this Elevator

Mabel

Seen and Not Heard

Abyss FM

Bodies in Space

Among the Stacks

Station Arcadia

Station Blue

Mnemosyne

Wolf 359

Tranthologies

Mx Bad Luck

SAYER

Limetown

What will be here?

Wake of Corrosion

The Pasithea Powder

SINKHOLE

Tell No Tales

The Vesta Clinic

Dreamboy

Georgie Romero is Done For

The Domestic Life of Anthony Todd

Alice isn't Dead

Stellar Firma

Unwell

The Strange Case of Starship Iris

The Heart of Ether

The Orbiting Human Circus

Wooden Overcoats

Greater Boston

Valence

Moonbase Theta Out

The Penumbra Podcast

Desert Skies

Deviser

Leaving Corvat

Red Valley

Back Again Back Again

Sidequesting

#camp here & there #chnt #tma #wtnv #ch&t #welcome to night vale #indie podcast #podcast reccomendation #the penumbra podcast #the hotel #the night post #hello from the hallowoods #old gods of appalachia #i am in eskew #podcasts #audio fiction

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cleolinda · 3 months

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I am so fucking pissed. We’re hearing forecasts that we might get FIVE FUCKING INCHES OF SNOW overnight from Monday to Tuesday. In ALABAMA, where we have no snow removal equipment. Like I think we got one bag of sand for the whole town. No snow tires, I don’t even know what those are. This isn’t cute “Haha it’s just barely below freezing! Snowball fight!!!” snow. This is 14° Fuck (-11° Come the Fuck On) snow. FIVE INCHES? We get flurries and the city descends into madness.

What if we lose POWER. Everything runs off USB cord stuck in the outlet charging nowadays. This is why everyone used to run out and buy Milk Bread Batteries. Listen. I have this memory of the power going out during this wild snowstorm when I was a kid--I want to say it was Winter Storm '93. Ask anyone who lived in Alabama at the time. Like we had Desert Storm '92 the military operation one year and Winter Storm '93 the next. It was that serious in our minds, and I'm not sure you can blame us:

The storm dumped several inches of snow each hour on Birmingham, which ended up with officially 13 inches of snow.

Due to the high winds some parts of Birmingham reported drifts 5 to 6 feet deep. One state trooper reported that the roads were in the worst shape he had ever seen. "People can't tell what's road and what's not."

Low temperatures during the storm were in the 5-to-10 degree range on that Sunday.

IN A TOWN WHERE WE DON'T KNOW WHAT A SNOW PLOW IS. I think we had one for the entire county. Like I'm only kind of joking here.

And our power went out.

The snow was so heavy that it pulled down power lines either by its own weight, or by the tree branches its weight broke off. Meanwhile, the power at my house already went off every time a squirrel sneezed. I don't how many days this lasted; it was probably like, 2-3 days, but in my head, I was 14 years old boxed up with my family with no heat and it lasted two weeks. Maybe three years. The four of us slept in sleeping bags layered with quilts, huddled on the floor around a wood burning fire. (In the haunted house, no less.) The carpet was really nice, at least. We had a--do people still call them boomboxes? A big portable cassette player--battery-powered--with AM/FM radio. We listened to whatever TV shows were broadcast from the ABC station at night. We did have hot water; I took a lot of hot baths. We cooked food over the outdoor grill (which we moved to the comfortably large area under the deck, to hold off the falling snow), sometimes using aluminum foil as a kind of thin impromptu frying pan, and kept perishables like milk and meat in a cooler. Oh, did we have a bag of ice for the cooler? No, we used snow. God knows there was enough of it. Of course, I'm sure the refrigerator was perfectly serviceable even without power, because it was TEN DEGREES FUCK ALL.

I remember going outside a good bit and playing, as much as a teenager plays, in the snow with my seven-year-old sister. I remember that all the neighborhood kids got big rubber trashcan lids and used them as toboggans, going up to the top of the hill on our street and pretty successfully sledding down. Maybe it was "lmao snowball fight!!" snow when I was 14. I'm 45 now, and the cold makes me hurt. It makes me hurt all over. Maybe Winter Storm '24 will be a fun core memory for my nephew. I am pissed. And also charging all my electronics.

(ETA: It’s ‘24 now, isn’t it. My brain hasn’t clicked the date over yet. What is time.)

#me for some reason #long post

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yevmarie · 2 months

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Light My Fire | Chapter 7

Masterlist

< Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 >

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female Reader

Word count: 2.3k

Pronouns: you, she/her

Warnings: angst, mentions of depression, swearing, mentions of physical abuse towards other people, detailed description of typical TWD violence, differences from the main plot may occur, bad English (not my first language).

Taglist: @your-shifting-gurl @bae-live-0 @richardsamboramylove55 @deansapplepie @snailss @denisecabrera @dreamtofus @duckybird101

You were sitting near the tent, trying to occupy your mind with the book you had taken at the beginning of the outbreak when you left home. The novel was so good that you binge-read it after Rick got to the hospital. That was the only thing that distracted you somehow, almost the cure for the hours spent crying after calls with Lori, who always said the doctor's forecast had been discouraging.

Now, everything was different. Although you reunited with your friend, other things were bothering you. Thoughts rushed after every sentence being read.

Is Merle alive? Will the group come back? Should I tell everything to Rick? But that fucker Shane almost killed me today. Shit! The neck hurts so much I'd probably have bruises forming a 'necklace' in a day. Shane is scaring the hell out of me. Why is he doing that to me? Did I deserve it after all my love given to him? I think I deserve just nothing good. If any good is even left in this world…

You cursed to yourself, noticing that familiar Depression FM finding the 'right' radio wave in your mind. The host today is so cruel; he plays that shitty song with the lyrics derived from your brain. And that fucking cassette tape is broken, repeating every verse again and again. You knew what to do in such cases.

"Ms. Y/LN, there's one technique that helps to get rid of repetitive unhealthy thoughts. But it needs practice as any of them. So close your eyes and imagine a bus stop, some familiar one to you. Perhaps near your work. This must be the place you know well to add realism to your brain."

You put the book aside and leaned back on the tree to relax your body. You closed your eyes, took a deep breath, and imagined the bus stop near your office. This is a busy street full of office workers fussing around and cars honking.

"Good. Now imagine the bus you are waiting for."

You are standing in your uncomfortable office outfit, praying to catch the bus quicker and get home. And here it is!

"When it arrives, come up to it."

You make several steps, slightly losing balance as some teenage girl pushes you, aiming to get in faster than you to take a seat.

"The doors are opening, and you get in but notice one unpleasant thing… The people inside only talk about you. About your insecurities. They literally repeat your thoughts out loud, saying them to you in your face."

"You don't deserve love," an old grumpy lady says, looking at you with side eyes.

You take a step further, aiming for the part of the bus with fewer people, finding a man wearing total black: a leather jacket, jeans, massive boots, and bike gloves. He is saying nothing to you. He's not even looking at you, listening to whatever music is playing in his earphones.

"Love? Don't be ridiculous," the teenage girl who had pushed you before chuckled. "She just deserves nothing good."

Another step up to the man when he finally turns to you. Pale blue eyes, three-day stubble, a bit outgrown haircut, two cute moles on the face, one above his thin lips. Although his frame is wide and the outfit is brutal, he doesn't seem like that. He's calm.

"Daryl?" you whispered, standing up too close to him, the haunting scent mixed of his cologne, leather, and tobacco hitting your brain, sending waves of excitement through your veins.

"Yeah, talking about Daryl," a clerk sitting near you, reading a newspaper, caught your attention, "He thinks you are useless."

"Reckless," a woman cooing to her baby corrected the clerk.

"He talks to you out of pity," another voice said.

"He's not interested in you," added yet another.

All the hurtful voices meshed together, making your tears swell in your eyes. Daryl took off his earphones and passed them to you. You plugged them in and heard… Nothing! Except the silent echo of your heartbeat. You noticed people were still talking to you but couldn't hear them. Daryl cupped your face with his calloused, warm palms, still looking into your eyes. His gaze was calm, gentle, and loving. He leaned closer, narrowing the space between your faces, looking down at your lips; his breath tickled your sences as you savored the moment with anticipation.

"Ms. Y/LN, after hearing everything the passengers have told you, would you get off the bus?"

"No," you whispered, closing your eyes and feeling Daryl's lips touching yours in a sensual kiss.

FUCK!

You opened your eyes and threw the book away towards the tent.

"So, have I fallen for Daryl?" you asked yourself, desperately sighing, as surely daydreaming about the hunter wasn't planned, when suddenly you saw a familiar woman figure approaching you - Lori.

"Y/N, can I ask you to look after Carl and Sofia?" the woman's expression was concerned, obviously stressed out by something. You only nodded in consent, not wishing to talk, and stood up to go for the children. But your hope of no dialogue with the woman was dispelled in a second when she gently grabbed your forearm.

"We need to talk, Y/N."

"Enough talking for me today," you mumbled and stepped forward but were stopped again by Lori's touch.

"Please," she begged sincerely. "I… I'm really sorry for all that," her voice shaky. "I didn't know you still had feelings for him."

"You never asked," your response was just a guillotine, cutting off all potential reasoning.

"If you had only told me before… Perhaps I'd still be devastated, but I knew you were fair to me. And after some time, I'd accept it," you looked at your crying former friend and felt the pain hit your chest.

"Look, I'm not aiming to hurt you. Just trust me, it doesn't bring me any satisfaction. I'm not a monster. I just want to let you know I've always expected some tricks from Shane but not from you. Because you know what? I've always thought friendship is stronger. Love just comes and goes. But you betrayed me."

"Okay, okay," Lori nodded, sobbing, and was going to walk away, but you stepped aside and appeared on her way.

"I could overcome it and forgive you one day. But if Rick doesn't… He just doesn't deserve all of this."

"He'll never know," her answer outraged you. She was so sure you wouldn't tell Rick.

And honestly, she was right and wrong at the same time by saying this. You face the dilemma of telling Rick everything you know and destroying his family and friendship with Shane. Or you just step back and lose another close person like Rick because you'd not be able to even look into his eyes and act like everything is going fine and finally betray him by keeping silent. You didn't know what to do, and this tortured you.

"Then I'll just be nice to you for the love of Rick and Carl. I can't offer more; I'm sorry," you turned around and walked toward the campfire, leaving Lori alone. "I'll look after Carl and Sofia."

Hours later, when you were spending time with the children, the camp was shocked by another event: Shane beat up Ed after he hit Carol. You felt sorry for the woman and reasoned her to have her rest, though you had planned otherwise before, and took your duty to help in the kitchen and stew the squirrels for the group.

It was getting darker; the group was having dinner, but no one returned from the run to Atlanta. You saved the portions for the men and started cleaning the place you called the kitchen. You couldn't have your rest; otherwise, you would go crazy. Or eat as the food stuck in your throat again. Your nerves were being torn to shreds.

But Amy's wrenching scream cut off the silence you mistakenly considered agonizing.

"Walkers!" people yelled.

The chaos burst in seconds, resulting in fussing, cries, and shooting. The latter bothered you the most as it was uncontrollable, and you were scared to take a slug. You ran to the table and took a knife, scanning the situation around. Lori and Carl were hiding behind shooting Shane; that's good. You were looking for Carol and Sofia, who were near Shane as well but were more vulnerable to attack.

You were going to run to them but heard upcoming rasps just near yourself. Turning around, you stabbed the walker's head, hearing the gut-wrenching sound of tearing skin and breaking skull. The blood spraying on your face and the smell almost made you vomit. The body fell on the ground when another walker approached you, snapping its teeth and stretching its arms to you. You kicked it in the chest so you had more space for maneuvering, swaying your arm holding the knife to damage the skull of the lying dead.

You stood up, taking a deep breath and wiping the sweat off your forehead. Other shooting noises were reaching the camp. You heard Rick's voice calling his family when you fell, being pushed down to the ground. Your chest took a pasting by falling flat on the ground, and the air from your lungs was beaten away. You realized the snapping teeth were inches from your skin, so at least you needed to push it away from you to kill, but the body was so heavy you couldn't make a move.

Suddenly, you felt the weight above was lifted from you, thrown somewhere away, and shot, so you jumped out of your skin, instinctively closing your ears. Then, your body was lifted easily as if you were a featherweight. An arm tugs around you, pushing your back into someone's body.

"Ya okay?" you know this gruff voice.

You quickly nodded and squizzed his forearm, thanking god Daryl returned to the camp.

"Stay behind; it's clear there," the archer freed you from his hug and continued shooting the dead.

Several minutes passed when the last walker was down. You were panting, trying to catch your breath, and dropped to your knees as your muscles were aching. You looked back and saw Rick hugging his family. Carol and her daughter were safe, but the field around the camp was covered with dead flesh — the bitter payment for your close people to be alive.

"Y/N," you heard Rick approaching you, helping you stand up, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," you nodded, standing up, but your legs were wobbling, so the sheriff had to help you keep your balance by holding you by your back.

"Where's Merle?"

"He escaped, but we couldn't find either him or his body."

The hope died in your eyes, turning your gaze to as black as night.

"Y/N, can you tell me something?"

"Hm?" you hummed, fluttering your eyes open as if you were returning from a trance.

"Did Merle and you..?"

"No," you cut short his question and were trying to walk away, but Rick stopped you, standing next to you, gently holding your shoulders.

"Is it because of Daryl?" by an odd coincidence, the name mentioned made you stiffen so that Rick's touch read your tensity.

"What do you mean?"

"Do you like him?"

You stiffened even more, and the opportunity to lie about something faded. Considering you were talking to the sheriff, who was too good at reading people. Furthermore, when they were close ones.

"No. We just became friends," you put his arm aside, hinting you'd like to walk away. This dialogue was leading to some strange course. "Rick, I wanna sleep, let's talk tomorrow, okay?"

Your friend nodded and stared after you walking away.

"So, why do you sleep in Daryl's tent?" you stopped and turned around to the man.

"Because you got back, and there's not enough space for four of us."

"You had already moved to Dixons. There was no stuff of yours. Or you are a medium."

"Rick, is it cross-examining?"

"I just wonder why you behave so strangely. If you like some of the brothers, it changes everything. I'll insist on searching. If you don't have feelings but still hang out with them when your family is here. Then I assume you'd had some fighting with Lori and…"

"Hey man," Shane appeared out of nowhere, approaching Rick. "Let's discuss our plans for tomorrow. We need to do something with the bodies."

You mentally thanked your ex and quickly walked to the tent. Getting inside of it, you noticed the archer was already sleeping. Perhaps he was so tired he didn't give a damn where he was going. And at least it's his tent. You grabbed your blanket to move to Merle's, but Daryl's voice stopped you.

"Ain't sleeping. Get inside. It's better to stick together if another horde is coming. Not gonna touch ya," the hunter's sleeping voice made some magic to you as you got in and laid down back to him without hesitation. You covered yourself with the blanket, but it was too much already as you were flushed red, and all your blood was running in hot impulses through your body.

"Is it okay?" Daryl wanted to reassure himself you were fine with this.

"Yeah," you replied.

"So, if Rick noticed, then when will you accept you have fallen for Daryl, Y/N?" you told yourself and shut your eyes tightly as if it would help you fall asleep faster.

< Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 >

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iseos · 6 months

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: SLEEP TIGHT

wc. 561 archive. pairing. park jongseong x fm!r synopsis. terrors of the night replaced by love genre. fluff

AS THE CLOCK STRUCK 4 A.M. on a breezy autumn night, y/n awoke from a terrible nightmare. her heart pounded in her chest, and sweat glistened on her forehead as her eyes shot open. she couldn't bear to stay alone in her apartment any longer. the only thing that could calm her racing heart was the thought of being in her boyfriend jay's comforting arms.

with trembling hands, she lifted herself out of her bed, put on her fluffy slippers, and hastily tiptoed out of her apartment and down the hall to jay's door. her heart fluttered with both anticipation and nervousness as she stood in the silent hall.

but in her sleepy, fear-induced haze, y/n had forgotten to bring the key jay gifted her to his apartment. she stood in front of jay's door, realizing her mistake, and cursed herself under her breath. she hesitated for a moment, contemplating her next move. she couldn't just go back down; her nightmare still haunted her.

ringing out all of her courage, y/n knocked on the door gently, hoping not to disturb anyone else in the building. when there was no response, she knocked again, slightly louder this time. she heard a muffled groan from inside, followed by the shuffling of feet.

jay, half-asleep and still irritated at being woken up at this ungodly hour, stumbled to the door. his hair was tousled, and his eyes were squinted against the sudden intrusion.

"who the hell...?" he grumbled, flinging open the door with an impatient scowl. but as soon as he saw y/n standing there, her eyes wide and teary from her nightmare, his expression transformed from annoyance to one of concern.

"y/n? what's wrong?" he asked, his sleepiness immediately replaced by worry.

without waiting for an answer, he pulled her into his warm embrace and let her bury her face into his chest.

y/n felt more tears welling up in her eyes as she clung tightly to jay's shirt.

"i had a nightmare," she whispered, her voice quiet and trembling.

jay held her even tighter, his protective instincts kicking in. "shh, it's okay. you're safe now," he whispered soothingly.

he led her further into his apartment, closing the door behind them. the cozy warmth and familiar scent of his home enveloped her, making her feel instantly comforted.

they settled on the couch, wrapped in a soft blanket, and jay gently stroked y/n's hair as she recounted her nightmare.

hours passed as they talked, laughed, and occasionally shared sweet kisses. gradually the darkness of the night was replaced by the soft hues of dawn creeping through the windows. y/n feeling safe in jay's arms, finally began to relax.

with the nightmare and fear now distant memories, y/n yawned and snuggled closer to jay again. he smiled down at her, his eyes filled with love and tenderness.

"let's go back to sleep," he suggested softly.

y/n nodded, her heart filled with gratitude for having such a caring and loving boyfriend. hand in hand, they made their way to jay's bed, where they curled up together, finding solace in each other's presence.

as the sun rose in the sky, casting a warm glow through the curtains, y/n and jay drifted back to sleep, their love stronger than ever, and their hearts forever intertwined.

#iseos writing ࿐ྂ #enhablr #k-labels #enhypen #jay #jay park #park jongseong #enhypen oneshots #enhypen drabbles #enhypen imagines #enhypen fluff #enhypen x female reader #jay fluff #jay scenarios #jay fanfic #enhypen jay #jay x y/n #jay x reader

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leighpinnocx · 6 months

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Leigh-Anne performing at Kiss Fm Haunted House Party.

#leigh anne pinnock #lpinnockedit #dailylmedits #little mix #dailymusicqueens #dailywoc #userwocs #lp: halloween

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bwabbitv3s · 9 months

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Good Godfather Vlad AU - Part 4

Link to Part 1 Link to Part 2 Link to Part 3

This took way longer than I expected, but it is done!

@kaitouhime @krzys2000 @moobloomrights @spooky-fm @undead-essence @theblackcatscratchpost

Concerns and Realizations

The next day passes in a bit of a blur up to the evening dance in the old high school gym. He almost does not know what to do with his plans all crushed and swept away with the revelation earlier in the week. Vlad feels himself being tugged along as if in a dream he had long ago thrown away. It is almost like when they all first meet and Vlad found some of the first people to take his racing mind and sharp tongue as interesting not off putting.

He does notice that the Fenton’s son seems to be a little jumpy today. Glancing off at the ceiling, windows, and floor for some time before nervously going on with his time. Jack tells him aside away from prying eyes that Danny has been having some anxiety issues. Grades are dropping and he has become more accident prone to the point they bought an entire set of plastic plates and glasses. He has not been sleeping well with reports from teachers about him sleeping in class.

He and Maddie are trying to be very thoughtful about approaching him as he had issues in the past with bullies. It has not been going well as the boy keeps dodging the topic every time they try to talk to him about it. They want him to know he can talk to them about anything and they will support him. It is why they brought him and Jasmine to the reunion. A chance at a break from school and seemed just the thing to help.

Whenever he spots the boy it appears to get worse as the day goes on. What was easy to brush off as a nervous tick has become a real concern. By the evening Danny looks like he is expecting something to jump out and try to murder him. Vlad decides to try approaching Danny about it even if it is just to give him an excuse to get out of the Fenton’s smothering.

“How are you Danny? I can hardly imagine what you and the other children are very interested in watching all of us go about things from before you were born.”

The boy practically jumps, hands twitching towards something not there at his waist.

“Uh, yeah. This is pretty boring you would think after a few days everyone would be caught up by now.” Danny nervously answers.

“It has been quite a long time since many have seen each other. Not everyone can sum up a decade of time quickly.” Vlad says. Allowing the deflection to stand. Danny seems to be calming down a little.

“Say, do your parents still go on ghost hunting trips or did they stop after graduating?” Vlad asks in curiosity. Ghosts and the portal had become a taboo topic since the revelation earlier in the week. As soon as Vlad finishes asking Danny gets a long stare as if seeing something in the distance.

“Not too often anymore. I mean they don’t need to go someplace to hunt ghosts anymore. Now with Amity being so haunted since the portal opened.” Danny bitterly says.

“They actually got the portal to work!” Vlad exclaims in surprise.

“Yes, have they not gone over their greatest scientific breakthrough with you yet?” Danny answers with a surprised look.

“I don’t think they want to talk about it as it is close to the accident.” Vlad responds mind racing.

How did they get it to work? He had tried over the years to get a version of the portal to work himself. Tried different locations of thin spot to connect to it. After his powers started to manifest in a bid to get answers. It never worked. Not so much as a spark. Let alone something stable if it is causing an entire town to be haunted. His latest project to work was a short range tracker of sorts to locate the echos a natural portal left behind. It is how he was able to find the ghosts he had initially hired. Shaking away from that though he looks back at Danny.

“That is surprisingly emotionally intelligent of them.” Danny says.

“Did they ever get through the stabilization issue?” Vlad asked in curiosity.

“It just sort of stays open. They had to build a blast door to keep it sealed off. I am not sure how it stays open.” Danny responds.

“Fascinating.” Vlad says.

"I just wish it would keep the ghosts from coming through. Been weeks since I got to sleep without the alarm going off that something has come through." Danny sighs out.

"Ghosts have been coming through that regularly?" Vlad asks in curiosity.

Most of the natural portals he had gotten to study rarely let things through even the ones that stayed open for a week.

"It is like nearly every other day. Sometimes every day something even just an ectopus comes out. I just want to not have to deal with them so much " Danny says.

"Deal with them? I am surprised your mother has not caught enough to cataloged them in a scientific paper yet. It was always her dream to get tangable proof of ghosts." Vlad says.

"Yeah by ripping them apart molecule by molecule. I am sure eventually they will if they could keep them from escaping. Kinda hard to catch something that can slip through solid objects." Danny says turning away a bit.

Vlad nearly flinches at this. One hand going to grip his wrist as memories of the hospital surface. A slow bubbling horror of what his newly renewed friends would do if they found out he was part ghost. It would not even be on purpose. Just can you do this test Vlad? Only a little blood to look at under the scope. The panic spiral screeches to a halt when he sees the self soothing gesture that Danny is making.

Stepping closer to him in concern while shoving down his own fear to process latter he feels it. That flush of warmth that signals a ghost is nearby. Tensing he scans the room stepping closer to Danny. There should be no ghosts here. Had one of the ghosts he hired decided they were not happy with payment? It increases as he steps closer again to Danny. As the boy shivers and breaths out and a cloud of frost despite the warm room. That is the final missing puzzle piece that clicks into place for Vlad.

~ Sorry for the abrupt end to part four. I just needed to update it now despite the end not being quite where I wanted it to be. Better done than perfect~

#good godfather Vlad au #danny phantom #good godfather vlad #danny fenton #vlad masters #danny phantom au #the fentons are trying so very hard to not talk about ghosts to Vlad #it is really hard for them #Danny is just waiting for the ghost that has to be here to just show themselves #Vlad I am so sorry but you held it together!#Danny is about to gain a very protective godfather

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denimbex1986 · 4 months

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'The moment Jodie Whittaker’s Doctor regenerated will go down history as one of the great rug-pulls of modern Who.

There she was, standing on a rocky outcrop, ready to hand over the mantle to the next in line. But this time there was an extra twist for those watching. Instead of regenerating into Ncuti Gatwa, who was announced as the next Doctor in 2022 after rising to fame in Netflix's Sex Education, people instead saw David Tennant standing in his place, ready to reprise the role he’d last held thirteen years ago.

To quote the Doctor, as he reacted to this change of plans: what?!

With that catchphrase (can a word be a catchphrase? With Tennant, anything is possible), he was back in the TARDIS, and I was immediately reinvested – catapulted back in time to a version of my teenage self where long scarves were sacred and Converse magically looked good when paired with pinstripe suits.

I wasn’t around for original Who, but watched from behind the sofa as my father (a lifelong fan) turned on the telly for the reboot in 2005. Terrifying as the Daleks may be, this show is catnip for kids: the monsters; the prospect of entering a magic box and going for adventures in time and space; and above everything else, the knowledge the Doctor will ultimately save the day.

Heading up the first rebooted series, Christopher Eccleston came and went, with a brooding kind of mystique to him – a bit too dour for my nine-year-old self, but the baddies kept me hooked: the gas-mask zombies, the Slitheen, even (shudder) the return of the Daleks. And just as I was getting properly into the show, along came David Tennant.

For millions of fans like me, Tennant wasn’t just a version of the Doctor: he was the definitive Doctor. Taking the reins from Eccleston after the show’s excellent but troubled first season (Eccleston has talked about how leaving the show put him on a BBC blacklist and almost destroyed his career), he immediately breathed fresh life into the character.

Alongside the showrunner Russell T Davies (who himself has an impressive list of credits to his name, including It's A Sin and Queer as Folk) Tennant helped launch Who into the stratosphere: suddenly, watching the show was (wait for it) cool, something that both kids and adults would tune in for. In its prime, Doctor Who under Tennant pulled in as many as 13m viewers - a world away from Jodie Whittaker's swansong, which only pulled in four.

Davies’ combination of grounded characters – he always took the time to flesh out the companion’s families and make their lives feel meaningful – and tightly plotted episodes was a winning combination. Think The Parting of the Ways, where the Doctor and Rose tearfully bid farewell on a bleak beach in Norway; or the haunting Midnight, which must be among his bleakest.

Of course, a great script is one thing, but selling it is another. As the face of the show, Tennant could switch from cheeky chappie to ultra-serious blaster of baddies in a nanosecond; yes, Eccleston had the gravitas, but Tennant had that, plus sass. And clearly, he loved playing the Doctor: a lifelong fan himself, he once told GWR FM, "Who wouldn't want to be the Doctor? I've even got my own TARDIS!" It’s a fair point.

Needless to say, I lapped it up; even more so when Catherine Tate came on board as the permanently furious Donna. It was a golden era, but alas, all good things must come to an end. When both Davies and Tennant left in 2010, the show struggled. Matt Smith was charismatic and chirpy, yes, but the writing, under Steven Moffat’s tenure, was blander, the plots more slapdash. Where were the classics: the Blinks, the Empty Children?

As the years progressed, I stopped watching entirely – as did many others. Doctor Who was no longer cool; it was once again the domain of nerds and dedicated fans who were invested enough in the show's lore that the fiendishly complicated scripts made sense (or indeed the show's revolving catalogue of rebooted monsters from the original series). For some, the bad patches were worth toughing out. Which is fine, of course; I’m a nerd myself.

Something was missing; a spark, perhaps. Both Jodie Whittaker and Peter Capaldi’s tenures suffered as a result of poor scriptwriting; the plots were shoddy. The Doctor suddenly started sprouting mysterious incarnations. Why were the Weeping Angels suddenly everywhere? I would read the series reviews and roll my eyes at the screen, longing for the good old days.

I was just about ready to hang up my sonic screwdriver for good - at least until I heard that Russell T Davies was coming back as the series’ showrunner once more, along with Tennant and Catherine Tate as his companion Donna. The classic gang, back together again, and returning for one more bite at the apple before passing on the mantle to Gatwa.

Bringing Tennant back was a masterstroke from Davies. If my ears pricked up, so too did the ears of thousands of ex-Whovians, hungry for some sweet nostalgia. And we’ve been amply rewarded: that first sight of Tennant strolling around London in his revamped Tardis made me squeal like a child. As did the first mention of “Allons-y!”, his old catchphrase.

Watching him bounce around the universe with old companion Donna has been a joy; even better, this is a Doctor brought firmly into the modern-day universe. He’s still recognisably himself, but this time around he has crushes on Nathaniel Curtis’ Isaac Newton (“He was so hot... oh! Is that who I am now?”) and lets Donna and her daughter Rose (Yasmin Finney) school him on pronoun usage. You can sense the mischief in Davies’ pen, as well as the clear love he still has for the series, peppering his scripts with Easter eggs galore.

So as the third and final special approaches, I’m not ready to let Tennant go yet. How could I be? We've only just gotten him back, but wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey rolls on, and it's been a joy to see the show looking more invigorated than it has in years.

Job done? With Davies in charge, I'm optimistic that the soft reboot he and Tennant have kick-started will continue in style. Gatwa has big shoes to fill, but one thing's for certain about Doctor Who: it's all about change. Roll on the future... but if Tennant ever decides to make another guest appearance, I'll be there in the blink of a Weeping Angel's eye.'

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c1tyhaunts · 23 days

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─ PEOPLE I'D LIKE TO KNOW BETTER !

ALIAS / NAME : jacket.jpg (the handle to most of my socmed) or xera (alias) BIRTHDAY : September 19th ZODIAC SIGN : Virgo HEIGHT : 5'4" HOBBIES : writing, listening to music, weight lifting, watching youtube essays, reading novels & manga - i keep myself busy lmao FAVOURITE COLOUR : pastels or jewel-toned cool colors, including purples, blues, greens; also black & brown lol FAVOURITE BOOK : Mexican Gothic by S*lvia M*reno-G*rcia still ranks as one of my favorites; great descriptions, eldritch horror, and one of the better well written romance side plots. plus the final chapter? slays me every time LAST SONG : I'm right now powering through the new Ar*ana Gr*nde album as i write this so eternal sunshine. LAST FILM / SHOW : ... my boys and i were binging the live action ATLA to judge it. it's very, very mid. Now currently watching Iron Reign at the request of @artmadc RECENT READS : Pride & Prejudice for my book club, personal reads included House of Cotton by M*nica Br*shears (Great stylistically, content wise? Very, very strange. I'm still conflicted), Grown by T*ffany J*ckson (An AMAZING READ), and Heartsick by Ch*lsea C*in (give me hannibal lecter but make her a woman; we accept woman's wrongs here) INSPIRATION : BOYYYYY I am heavily, heavily inspired by the music I'm listening to in the moment, so here's a few albums that have my current Brain Rot™ for the blog. tl;dr: i love messy people ↪ Dead Club City - N*thing But Thieves (biggest blog inspo RN) ↪ Dawn FM - The W*eknd ↪ After Hours - The W*eknd ↪ Lemonade - B*yonce STORY BEHIND URL : ↪ based on the song "City Haunts" by N*thing But Thieves; the album, DEAD CLUB CITY, has a loose plot based in the fictional city that the album's named after, and City Haunts is the end of one of the character's story lines from the album. The vague premise of "City Haunts" is that the character we are following in this context is choosing to stay in Dead Club City, letting themselves succumb to the madness and vices that keeps them tied to the city. Which these eight characters on the blog have some sort of Vice/Virtue that they've succumbed to that they need to climb out of (or not, I promote character detractment instead of growth). ↪ the url is also a reference to a "haunt" on multiple levels - a) a place frequented by a specific person or group of people, b) to continually seek the company of, or c) to stay around or persist; for all the characters on this blog, I feel like each of them are going their own "haunt", whether they are doing the haunting themselves or they continue to linger / stagnante in a place they shouldn't. They're all haunting this so-called "Dead Club City" and they have to figure out what to do there... Plus, the url looks cool. FUN FACT ABOUT ME : I've been one of the top performers at my job for the past 2+ years which is apparently achievement. Sales is a scam. Don't do it kids.

tagged by: @artmadc <3 tagging: i love goin down my most recent follows w this meme so @allevils, @obrighta/@haeymitch (whichever!), @rottine, @fiendrites, @bloodykneestm and YOU, cause I wanna get to know you too :)

#▶⌜dead air :: ooc⌟#perfect timing Leah since I just did the blog reup #also no pressure to the people tagged! ;v;

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dailyunsolvedmysteries-movedd · 8 months

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The True Story of the Boise Murder House

805 W Linden Street in Boise, Idaho, its covered in a layer of soot, with windows broken and boarded up and trash strewn about the yard, the 2-story, 2,728 square-foot Craftsman-style home looks like an abandoned horror movie set.

Known commonly as the Boise Murder House, the home is also sometimes referred to by locals as the Chop-Chop House, a glib reference to the gruesome homicide that took place there more than three decades ago. In the early morning hours of June 30th, 1987, 37-year-old Daniel Rodgers and 31-year-old Daron Cox shot and killed 21-year-old Preston Murr in the basement of Rodgers’s home at 805 W Linden Street. The two men then used an axe and knife to dismember his corpse, wrapped the pieces in plastic bags, and drove to the Idaho-Oregon border to dump the body parts in the Brownlee Reservoir. Horrifying as the facts of the crime are, there is one detail more haunting than the rest: Murr almost escaped.

According to court documents, an altercation broke out around midnight between the three men and Murr was shot in the shoulder by one of the two others. Having somehow managed to flee the home, he ran to a nearby house and banged on the door begging for help, but no one answered. The neighbor inside did call the police, however. He reported hearing pounding on his door, as well as someone screaming “let go of me,” followed by an anguished yell. Peeking out his window, he saw someone chasing Murr, eventually catching him and dragging him back into the basement of Rodger’s home, where he was fatally shot in the back of the head.

Though police never responded that night, they were called again the next morning by the same neighbor who asked officials to come investigate blood on his screen door. The blood found throughout the neighborhood—on sidewalks and at least one other neighboring house—further painted a harrowing picture of Murr’s desperate attempt to escape his murderers the night before. While the crime scene has long since been cleaned up, a dark legacy lingers around 805 W Linden Street to this day.

It’s unclear what happened to the house in the immediate years after Rodgers was sent to the Idaho State Correctional Center to serve out a life sentence without parole, but property records available online list a new owner, James Howell, as of 2000. Howell has since rented the house to a number of tenants and, given its proximity to Boise State University, it’s become a popular choice among students seeking off-campus housing. As a result, local lore about the house has a decidedly collegiate flair: One persistent rumor claims that fraternity brothers have reported seeing blood dripping down the walls of the basement for years. While there is no truth to this tale—and 805 W Linden was never an official frat house—many former residents say there is something “off” about the space.

“The basement was creepy and had a weird feel. We would take people down there to scare them. I never saw any ghosts but you could tell something wasn't right,” Joe W., a former BSU student, told a local radio station, 107.9 LITE FM. Another Boise resident, Rachel R., told the station that her family almost bought the house back in 2000, and to this day she still gets anxious when thinking about their tour of the home. “It looked like it had been abandoned and the basement was by far the creepiest part,” she said. But of all the accounts shared with 107.9, the strangest tale, submitted by Dan D., goes well beyond the basement.

According to his story, one night Dan and his friend thought they heard someone trying to break into the house. When they went out to the front porch to check things out, no one was there. After looking around the front yard, Dan turned to face the house and saw a “big black oily looking thing” in the window of a bedroom upstairs. He remembers seeing the shadow-y figure move back from the window and towards the bedroom door before it disappeared. Shortly after, it reappeared outside in a mirror sitting on the porch. Dan watched as the “ball of oily blackness” moved down the large column of the porch, slowly growing in size until it took up the entire reflection of the mirror and moved right through him. “It was the weirdest, most disturbing thing I've ever felt and just typing this makes me feel it again. It's like ice fingers sinking into my shoulders,” he said.

#Boise Murder House #chop chop house #unsolved #paranormal #ghosts

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