There’s something chittering, in your walls. Loud, quiet, and loud again. Like a radio left on, tucked away somewhere between the insulation and plaster. Never-ending, only undulating. Words that aren’t there, but, deep at night–that, that’s when it’s worse–you swear you can hear the syllables. Attempted mutterings of speech, spoken with the wrong vocal chords. Right by your bed in the evenings, from the kitchen cupboards in the mornings. Beneath you with every step you take.
People say routine soothes the soul, but the constant of this drives you mad. It's white noise you can't drown out, can't get used to. It's a small triumph that you're free from it when you step outside of the house.
Just a leak in the pipes, is what you’ve been telling yourself. Some hiss from the heating, just the whine of the structure.
Yet, it stops when you leave. At least, you think it does.
You’d come home late one evening, slowed by traffic and a never-ending list of things to do; legs ready to collapse like time-worn pillars on you. At first, you hadn't even noticed, almost too tired to care.
But it was silent. Quiet as the grave. No noise other than the hum of the heating, your breathing and a dog barking somewhere within the thick veil of night.
Quiet as the grave. Quiet, quiet, quiet, but only for a second.
Right above you, it began anew. The muttering, the tapping.
Tap, tap, and your eyes glanced upwards, as if you’d find droplets building on a damp patch you'd managed to miss. You don’t. Two scrapes, nine more taps, another scrape, tap, tap; it almost sounded like walking. Almost sounded like static, almost sounded like a pattern, almost sounded like nothing at all. Scrape, tap, five more scrapes, tap, tap, scrape–and again, it stopped.
Then the same. Again, and again, and again; too loud, too much. No pillow thick enough nor music loud enough to block it out.
You spend as much time as you can outside watching the stars, until you’re too tired to care. Until the clicking by your ear almost sounds soothing.
Just a broken pipe, just something mundane, until the cobwebs appear. See-through silk; spun as thin as breath and weaved like a tapestry across your home. At first, it’s nothing. Just a strand across long-untouched cabinets. Just a web brushed away from a book you haven’t read in years. Misuse and neglect gathering, like it always does. Easy to clean, easy to put out of sight, and out of mind.
The doorknobs are another thing, though. Always on the outside–as of police tape marking off an area–aside from the front door and your room. It’s worst, there; gauze across bedsheets turns into ropes along your wardrobe and thick veils covering up your desk. Constant, ever present invisible fingertips tracing your skin; slow and patient. Cocooning you.
Broken pipe, hiss of the heating, drip, drip, drip, tap, tap, tap of water you can’t see. Yeah right.
Sleep stops coming easy. You wander your halls instead–aimless, hollow-eyed, a shadow pacing through its own ribs. Followed, always, by that endless, unceasing tapping.
Tap, tap, tap–you’re not sure how much longer you can lay here, like this. Tap, what time even is it? Tap, has to be near three. Two scrapes, witching hour; go figure. Tap.
The covers feel like lead as you kick them off; air thick, sweat sticky on your skin. You don’t bother to glance at your alarm–pitch darkness and the feeling of being out of time enough to tell you it’s deep into the night–as you trudge your way down the hall, free from the noise if only for a moment.
Tap, tap.
The floor is cold underfoot. A welcome sensation.
Tap, scrape, tap, tap.
You rub your eyes, pressing until colours burst–blues and yellows and reds blooming behind your lids. Reminds you of a kaleidoscope.
Three more scrapes. Sounds like a dog clawing at a door, begging to be let in.
You need–what? Something. Something to knock you out.
Tap, tap, tap, scrape.
Maybe you’ll just bang your head against the wall.
Scrape, tap, two more scrapes.
You look to it. Swear you can see something moving beneath the paint.
Three scapes, again.
The thought almost tempts you as you wipe away another cobweb from yourself.
Tap, tap, scrape.
Your home feels like one now. A web. You, the fly.
There’s something behind you.
Trapped. Buzzing. Fluttering paper thin wings to no use.
There’s something behind you.
The moonlight is pretty, at least. Silver spilling into the hall from a window further down.
There’s something behind you.
You stop. The chittering doesn’t sound muffled anymore.
It’s just a leaky pipe, just the heating, which is why you turn. Animal instincts act up in the modern world, after all.
And in the dark, you see them. Two, four, six, eight pairs of milky eyes, glinting like pearls in the silver light.
The chittering does not stop.
You glimpse legs shifting, clicking together in rhythm–a parody of a song.
The chittering does not stop.
Mock syllables twist from unseen jaws, painful sounding. Almost words. Almost human.
I would love to see a mixtape with the theme of Daniel Garcia trying to find his place within the Death Riders/working out who he is within their hierarchy
[from a second ask] got overeager, did not finish my prompt. I like folk, indie rock, and women artists who use a collective noun for their solo act. I can't imagine this will be an issue, but no operatic sopranos/super high pitched stuff pls.
(if you want to request a playlist/mixtape of your own, read the OG post here)
Hey, Sarahcakes! I'm not exactly an expert on Danny and/or the DR, but I came up with a mix I'm actually quite pleased with (many thanks to those in the Jar who filled me in) :) I hope you enjoy it!
Link to it solo // link to it on my fanmixes page. Tracklist + explanations under the cut. :)
1.) Oh Death - Noah Gundersen
The moment DG betrays Darby and joins the DR…whether literally, or when he decided to in his heart. "When Death and all His angels find you // will you call out?" No turning back, though; "no going home".
2.) Freedom Song - The La's
I saw a lot of the DR philosophy in this song that DG is perhaps being told. "All this world seems bent upon // contemplating Babylon", "I'm not scared to die, God help me // we went to the same schools and // all learned the same rules of lament", "the knot will never come undone // accidents show mercy none // there isn't anywhere to run"…
3.) There Is No Remaining In Place - Dragonfly Collector
The initiation montage song, LOL. Also the first song that directly deals with DG's desire to be important in something bigger, to have purpose SOMEhow. "How I smile as I follow a trail // when the ascent lights up a soul // there is no remaining in place"
4.) Helplessness Blues - Fleet Foxes
TBH this is THE DG song of the mix for me (in the narrative, him reflecting/justifying himself I think). Easier to say what DOESN'T apply to Danny here (esp. since I lightly cut this version down LOL). "What good is it to sing helplessness blues? // why should I wait for anyone else?" Note as well the ending line "someday I'll be like the man on the screen"…hmm.
5.) Tear Down the House - The Avett Brothers
Short (esp since I ALSO edited this one) lttle song about burning the past. "I have no memory of who I once was // and I don't remember your name".
6.) Gen-X Cops - Vampire Weekend
Training montage! The life of a Death Rider ain't an easy one, especially at the sort of bottom of the ladder…but DG's learning. WHAT he's learning? "It wasn't built for me // It's your academy // But in my time, you taught me how to see // Each generation makes its own apology".
7.) In From Japan - Madison Cunningham
The ambivalence song. He got what he wanted re: having a place at something more…right? "No one's holding you back now"…yet " A phone line from the future // Calls to say, "You're gonna mess it up again // My friend". Also, I like it better IMO with the fact that according to Cagematch DG's never actually worked Japan.
8.) Man Like You - Tom Misch
"I knew a man who got lost in the big dark blue // And came out alive". But is it the man on the screen…the men at the head of the pack…or the man in the mirror?
lately I've been thinking about how Hyunjin responds to his girlfriend who grind and humping on his abs when they cuddling then hyunjin feel so disturbed by his girlfriend who is very needy, (i saw one of Hyunjin's Lollapaloza videos when Hyunjin was sweating and his white shirt was shadowy around his lower abdomen) maybe with little teasing and fingering it would be nicee ><
I was soooo not in my horny mood when I saw this but oh my goood 😶
I've never been into riding abs and I've never read anything with it but you're saying hyunjin 😫 it's unfaaaair now I can't get it out of my head
he'd develop this guilty pleasure of letting you get his shirts wet when you ride him. possibly using them later when you're not around.
imagine this. you're riding his abs and he's looking up at you. you throw your head back when you're close and he puts his hand on your neck to make sure you stay like that so that he can take a picture. he loves it so much when you're fucked out that he'd have tens, if not hundreds, of pictures of you taken moments before your orgasm.
Speedball/Marina fic mixtape (+ playlist version) for @pronoungraps!
(if you want to request a playlist/mixtape of your own, read the OG post here)
Hey Artie! Here are the links to the mixtape solo and on my page! As requested, it's also in Spotify playlist form below:
Explanations under the cut :)
1.) House of Glass - Cage the Elephant
"It's an illusion, this admiration // of mutilation, my isolation, my isolation // my isolation, it's an illusion". As they say, people who inhabit glass houses shouldn't throw stones. "Receiver projected, act like if you own it // smile for the camera, repeat and do it over // smile for the camera, repeat and do it over"…also violence to start.
2.) The Crow - Dessa
Another song that is quiteeeee violent; " Nobody fears the height, you all just fear the fall // go to the edge sometime // and prove your body wrong // you land badly, but you crash standing". But the start is the most violent part TBH: "'Anger is just love, left out, gone to vinegar' // you wake up a stranger to yourself then you // learn to live with her // sit in her clothing 'til you fill out her figure"
3.) Unmasked! - The Mountain Goats
"[…] you look almost relieved down there // like you're free, like you can breathe now // like they've sawn off your cast"
4.) Angel of Small Death & the Codeine Scene - Hozier
Classic playlist song, LOL. It's very Marina especially though. "With her sweetened breath, and her tongue so mean"…"with her straw-blonde hair, her arms hard and lean"…
5.) Running from Myself - Pom Pom Squad
People run for many different reasons. Fear has many different faces. "Cut my hair and burned my dress // broke my heart to spite my chest // left with nothing but regret"
6.) Parallel - Emilie Kahn
French-Canadian artist wheeeeee! "Taking out my braids, sitting on your floor // said you feel like this has happened before"; "And there's a version of you, a version of me // out there living a fantasy // while I'm stuck here, caught inside the bad lines in between"; "Oh, I'll make do with this life of mine // but it's nice to have a friend in here sometimes".
7.) Crime - Real Estate
To exist in such a way…IS it a crime? "Crippling anxiety // this crime is growing old // if I may be so bold // will you go straight with me?" is ironic BTW (except the first line maybe). "Sprung you from your hole // with everything you own // as if you weren't already free", after all…
8.) Lesser men would call it love - Lau Noah & Chris Thile
Why this is here is pretty much in the title ("men" as in humans, which gets it a pass from my rule making this mixtape that I don't include anything that explicitly uses male nouns/pronouns for the POV. Had to kick a few songs out of the running for this reason LOL). But also that verse…"but with you, it’s simple then // why we recognize each other // wounds that look alike, they tend // to reflect one another"
9.) My Better Self - Tennis
"My better self still knows // that meaning comes and goes // what is innate I do not know // but meaning comes and it goes". <3 Every lyric in this TBH.
Prompt: Post Best Friends Chuck Taylor. We know a lot about Orange's journey after Best Friends into him joining the Conglom, but I wonder how Chuck is now, his feelings with being a producer and seeing past and present friends changing while he's in the background.
Genres and/or artists you want and/or listen to: Anything that sounds similar to Foo Fighters and Green Day is game to me. I also listen to a lot of R&B like Earth Wind and Fire, Maze, Donny Hathaway and some artists now (Durand Bernarr, Miguel, Leon Thomas). But I also like surprise songs I haven't heard before.
DNWs: No Country please. I have tried a million times but it's a genre that is just not for me 99% of the time.
Hey Basil! Hurt myself with this one :) Hope I'm not the only one in my feels LOL
Link to it solo // link to it on my fanmixes page. Tracklist + explanations under the cut.
1.) Dream - Al Green
How it all started ("Wake up early and // dream the stars down from the sky // dream without knowing the reason why // just dream") and maybe how it was when Chuck finally started making money off his hard work ("Make it last forever"). Unfortunately, like all dreams…also, this is the start of the "wrestling as someone you love" metaphor that goes through this entire playlist :')
2.) Expert In A Dying Field - The Beths
Doesn't really sound like RHCP or Green Day, but bear with me LOL. The original song is about how one's knowledge of someone you once loved becomes meaningless and/or obsolete once you are cut off from that person (whether via breakup or something else). "And I can close the door on us // but the room still exists // and I know you're in it". Indeed, "It's over when you can't let go" and "love is learned over time", but you're still "an expert in a dying field".
3.) Lately - Stevie Wonder
Chuck's kinda both the singer and the lover in this one, huh? "I vaguely heard you whisper someone's name // But when I ask you of the thoughts you're keeping // You just say nothing's changed" and "But when I ask, "Will you be coming back soon?" // You don't know, never know"
4.) Falling out of Love - The Strokes
"Wrestling as a verb – to me, I didn’t love it as much as I used to. But I still love wrestling as a noun, more than ever." -- Chuck Taylor, 2024
5.) Change - Blind Melon
"And, oh, as I fade away // they'll all look at me and say // and they'll say // 'Hey, look at him // I'll never live that way.' // And that's OK // they're just afraid to change"…
6.) If I Had To Do It All Again - Yola
…but, still: "If I had to do it all again // I wouldn’t wanna do it, do it without you."
7.) Dig - Incubus
Because I didn't have the heart to end on TOO depressing a note. The power of friendship and relationships made survive, even as "Chuck Taylor" fades into the background and from the public memory. "If I turn into another // dig me up from under what is covering // the better part of me // sing this song // remind me that we'll always have each other // when everything else is gone"
I didn't get far with this one, LOL. I wrote wrestling magical realism fics for May Day for the last three years, so I hoped to continue the tradition. Didn't work out, sadly. This year's concept was supposed to be kayfabe!RS interacting with out of kayfabe!AC I think...I honestly can't remember it too well HAHA. Here's literally everything I wrote for it:
He knows who it isn't the moment he enters the yard. He gets an actual greeting, for one thing: head turning, mouth opening—"Hey," threads the voice, high with honest surprise, through the thin loop of his lips; another sign of non-identity. He even bothers to rise from his chair, and all with ease that not even Marina, the few and fewer times in a month she would come back to their house, would, or could, nowadays care to muster; certainly not this man's doppelganger.
But that's his mug on the patio table, the one he'd left behind in Florida and never bothered to ask have returned, sweating, not steaming. Real or not, then, he was fine with helping himself to some of his orange juice. Its ring of perspiration catches the first late-morning light of May (oh, he thinks. Oh), warps the warp of the glassy tabletop underneath it; like the fingertips that still brush against the glass while he stands, like his hand and his arm and the rest of him, he supposes, underneath his clothes—in his current sight dull blocks of opaque color, nothing more—the shimmer it catches swims in and out of focus, though he tries to keep his gaze and attention forward.
