#tidal ripper

[modularmedia]

January 1983 - Saturday Morning Panels #7

The final episode of the Vac era of SMP, where he goes absolutely bananas over big purple boat man.

[7grandmel]

Todays rip: 02/03/2024

One-Winged DJ

Season 7 Featured on: The Year of Grand Dad Sound Selection [Side A]

Ripped by duuzu, digboye, COCONABE, l4ureleye, Netyasha Roozi, Jiko Music Performed by Chase Beck

You may have noticed that I try to keep an air of suspense when doing posts on the King for Another Day tournament such as Thank You, Everybody!. That is, of course, to not spoil the victor of Season 4 Episode 1's year-defining event - but at this point, it's a bit of a fruitless endeavor to try and uphold. Because DJ Professor K's victory celebrations haven't just been contained to his awarded day-long takeover during Season 4 Episode 2 - the takeover that gave us incredible rips like AIN'T NOTHIN' LIKE A CHUNKY BEAT, 88811, Ska Cha Cha (Rotten Mix) at an absolute breakneck pace during the SiIvaSummer All-Star Festival. Because during that takeover, a new flame was kindled - a flame by the name of Jet Set Radio Evolution.

Hideki Naganuma's style of sample-filled funk music is DJ Professor K's headlining ripping source, the one most closely associated with the game that the character originates from. Yet its a style that can be expressed in so many ways, not needing to be derivative of any prior existing songs from the two Jet Set Radio games - September, for instance, is able to sound authentically Naganuma-esque whilst being built off of a song as far away from his style as possible. Jet Set Radio Evolution, then, is an entirely made-up game - its name and logo deriving from a declined proof-of-concept, but its "soundtrack" completely made up by the SiIvaGunner team. This is far from the first fake game on the channel, and not the first one to be done without much of a shred of irony (Kirby Rip Attack is due for coverage on here) - but, notably, its a fake game born specifically to keep DJ Professor K's impact on the channel alive in the Seasons past his takeover. And, well, it took a few Seasons, but during Season 7, the team started going truly ham in utilizing its true potential.

There are a number of these Jet Set Radio Evolution rips I want to cover on here, both ones from DJ Professor K's takeover and from its revitalized usage during Season 7 - but to me, it was One-Winged DJ that really showed just how much flexibility rippers have with Naganuma's style of music. One-Winged Angel has long been seen as a sort of legendary track to rip due just how extensive of a song it is, a song that has a distinctly menacing feel to it that I can't imagine is easy to translate into a rip. Rips like One Winged PSYcho - V​.​S. Sepsyrop feel like absolutely herculean endeavors, and during Season 7 in particular we saw an absolute tidal wave of rips using it, as if it were just any other meme source in the channel's backlog and not this legendary 7-minute long work of art. Hen'yoku no Piraman was the first of these I covered, and while One-Winged DJ is likely far from the last, it still manages to feel like it sticks out from the crowd in just how dense of a sound it has - likely a result of how many people contributed to its creation.

There's the obvious highlight, of course: Chase Beck, the voice of DJ Professor K himself, returns to the role with new lines to supplement the original choir in latin of the original song, and it immediately gives the rip a charm to it, especially all these years after the original event and after Chase Beck's last "needed" performance as the character had long since passed. Before that even gets to kick in, though, its hard not to notice just how many different parts of Jet Set Radio's soundtracks are utilized right from the beginning: a bassline and voicelines echoing That's Enough, samples and pacing from Sneakman, the interlude's melody broken by the noise and chaos of The Concept of Love, and all throughout using small little sound effects and one-second samples from all over the games' soundscapes.

This is the kind of rip I could sit here and dissect for pages on end, yet I believe the point has been made abundantly clear already. In a Season already FILLED with celebration of every part of SiIvaGunner's life, One-Winged DJ is an absolute flex of a celebration, reminding us all of why DJ Professor K truly earned his win whilst showing just how much there is to still be done within the ever-appealing Naganuma style. I'm beyond proud of the rippers involved in how this rip turned out, and hope that the Jet Set Radio Evolution rips continue to impress into Season 8.

[linden-reed]

closed starter for @cantfightmoonlight, jasmine jasmine's house

He didn't entirely know what reaction he was going to get from Jasmine when he found her. Regardless, he came shielded with gifts from Prauge and Vienna, he hoped they were enough to spare him. He didn't bother knocking on her door, he just shouted out to her in his mind before testing the the door handle and walking in. "So, I think Edgar Degas, the guy who painted the creepy ballerina oil paintings, is Jack the Ripper." He announced, skipping a formal greeting, or really any greeting at all.

He was back in town, but only because he had left, again. He hoped she would understand, sense the need he had for it, know the feeling of drowning in other people's grief and guilt - and then the tidal wave of disappointment they had in him for leaving when everything went wrong. He didn't know how much his sister understood of how he experienced the world, how sometimes his own mind felt secondary to the other minds that invaded his, the threat that a simple touch could be to him, the sinking feeling of leaving himself and falling into a memory he had no interest or right to be in.

"Cause he had a keen understanding of the human body, which is why everyone thought doctor - but didn't have the skill - trained artists would have an understanding of the body, but not necessarily the skill to chop it up." He continued.

[singdreamchild]

What's one unusual subject you know a lot about?

I have enough random history facts stored away in my brain for others to wish that I wouldn't.

Rapid fire!

In 1919, a giant tank of molasses exploded in Boston. Two and a half million gallons of molasses flooded the streets at 35 miles per hour, like a tidal wave nearly 15 feet tall. It killed 21 people and injured over 150. Took weeks to clean up.

Abraham Lincoln was a licensed bartender.

Cowboys didn't wear cowboy hats. They wore bowler hats.

Napoleon was once attacked by a horde of bunnies.

Pythagoras, known for the Pythagorean theorem, also made a Pythagorean cult. One of the rules of this cult was the members couldn't eat any kind of bean.

Nobody found Jack the Ripper.

 Pope Gregory IX declared a war on cats in 1233-1234. He said they were agents of Satan.

All British tanks are equipped to make tea.

Ancient Greeks believed that redheads became vampires after death. This was because of their completion and reaction to the sun as opposed to the typical Mediterranean Greek.

Would anyone like more facts? I can keep going.

[sebthemerciless]

"Don't call me that!" Sebastian snapped. The word sounded so foreign coming from the complete stranger and yet, it twisted his heart like a dagger had been plunged into it - invisible claws sinking themselves into some part of him that felt the connection between them.

Velaris. Ecosian. Shadowsinger. Night Court. Daemati. Each term and phrase crashed into the vampire like a tidal wave bringing with it a whorl of confusion and headache. It felt like his mind wanted to rip itself in two trying to sort through it all.

No, he had been a child sold to pirates.

A child ripped from his father and mother at mere days old and passed off to those poor sods like a letter being delivered by post.

He was a vampire - a bloodthirsty monster that had terrorized the colonials; that had found a thrill and excitement in the hunt rivaling the bloodlust of a Ripper without losing control entirely.

A vampire that thrived in the shadows and darkness because it was etched into his very nature, because of this man. Because of his father. A vampire capable of stepping into other individuals' minds as tangibly as one walked through a doorway into a home.

Sebastian moved in a blur to the wall he had entered through - hands running along the solid structure as he scanned its surface repeatedly. "Bring the door back. Now." He stated. At the edge of his mind, like nails gently scratching against his skin, he could hear a voice - Lorelai's - though the words were muffled and distorted. "I can't - this is just too much. It's all just too much." The centuries spent sleeping; the jarring awakening into the modern world; every freak happening that had struck the cities since then; and now this? Were he a weaker-willed vampire, he would have found it all too easy to justify simply shutting it all off and not having to feel at all.

He wasn't weak-willed though. He refused to be.

Every word was like a knife to his chest, digging deeper and deeper, twisting with an unwavering need to maim him as he slowly braced himself against the wall behind him. His son, his precious little boy, the bundle of joy that had filled his life with light for those few days that he had gotten with him and left his world blanketed in a blinding darkness that he hadn't been able to escape for at least a century. A hand placed over his chest, the tightening feel of his heart constricting in his chest practically removing all the air from his lungs as he shook his head. "Stop- please-," Kaidan manages to get out in breathless words, his voice barely above a whisper as he struggled to accept what he was being told. "We loved you son. You were our world, our light. The entirety of the Night Court felt the grief and despair of your disappearance. My inner circle reaped a punishment that they did not deserve because I could not control my rage or my grief. You were my son. Mine."

His gaze found Sebastian's own mirrored pair at his questions, another wave of guilt as he struggled to keep himself grounded. "I waged a war against the King of Velar," he says, trying to force a calm to his voice but it wavered. "He wanted to take all of Velaris and do away the courts, he wanted to take over the human lands. I gathered the other courts and my Ecosian warriors so we could put a stop to it. I killed the king. There are many reasons someone would have wanted to punish me and you- you, my son, were my biggest weakness. There was nothing that could have destroyed me so detrimentally as something happening to my flesh and blood."

He scoff's slightly, head shaking again as he threads his fingers through his before dragging his hand down his features exasperatedly. "I am the High Lord of the Night Court, the Lord of Nightmares, a shadowsinger," Kaidan growls lightly. "You were good at being a creature of the night because of me. Because of the blood that runs in your fucking veins. The night belongs to us, the shadows belong to us, the darkness belongs to us It is who we are."

"Vampires do not have the ability to delve into anyone's mind unless they are within a close distance of each other. You can do it from far distances because you- you inherited the daemati from me and it would appear that your vampirism did not null and void all of your fae abilities. Being able to control it takes time and practice, it isn't a quick thing to learn, it took me many years to be able to perfect my abilities, to build up those obsidian walls that you saw when you first arrived in my mind. I can teach you how to control it, I can teach you the things that we as Daemati, can do."

Brows furrowed at his words, frame pushing off the wall as he moved towards the younger male and yet another wave of guilt crashed over him at the thought that he had brought any harm to his own son with the storm he had created. "I didn't-," he started but quickly stopped the words from finishing. "Sebastian." His name was nothing more than a soft plea, anguish against his features and his digits twitched at his sides as if fighting the urge to reach out and grasp his son.

[tuneskit]

In order to make Tidal audio files playable offline, here I will introduce a complete tutorial for you to enjoy streaming music from Tidal offline by downloading and recording Tidal music.

Source: https://www.tuneskit.com/record-audio/record-tidal-music.html

[dailycharacteroption]

Tidal Hunter (Ranger Archetype)

 Like all of nature, the sea is a fickle and dangerous thing, but also the ultimate provider for all life. Though it is dangerous, those who abide by it may prosper.

We’ve seen many archetypes that specifically draw upon and emulate the ocean, and today’s entry is yet another example. Enter the Tidal Hunter.

Meant for air-breathing rangers that live alongside the sea, these hunters specifically draw power not just from the waves themselves, but also the powerful predators that live there, becoming master fishers and hunters of monsters beneath the swells.

 Though it is not an environment meant for air-breathing rangers, these hunters can remain in that environment longer than most, holding their breath for an impressive long time. Later on, they become so blessed by the waves that they can breathe water, staying under as long as they like.

Like sharks and other aquatic predators, they also have an impressive sense of smell, particularly underwater, tasting hints of blood from a mile away.

With these abilities, it’s no surprise that they focus on aquatic environments for their favored terrain.

They even prove to be swift swimmers, swimming faster than others of their species.

More powerful members of this archetype can even channel the might of the sea into a blast of seawater, bowling over and battering foes on land or sea, though this ability is most potent and controllable in the water.

A useful archetype if you’re playing in an aquatic game and want to play a ranger that is masterful on both land and sea, it remains useful enough on terrestrial games, though you may have to explain why such a ranger is so far from the sea. Most ranger builds are viable, though you’ll probably focus on a melee build, possibly flanking with an aquatic animal companion unless you have allies that are equally proficient beneath the waves. Ranged builds are still possible though if the GM gives you access to specialty ranged weapons meant for underwater use.

 Generally speaking, these rangers are associated with various coastal and islander cultures, so try looking up such real-world cultures when looking for inspiration for your character, but of course, steer clear of stereotypes and cultural touchstones that are not freely shared.

  An unnatural creature plagues the Eirka Atoll, a horrific bone-collecting construct known as a skull ripper, built in the shape of an ancient eurypterid. No one knows who created the monstrosity or where it came from, but the local hunters are calling a great hunt to end its bloody rampage once and for all.

 Though jokingly called “Dogfish” by his contemporaries, there are few more accomplished divers than Kumik the Rougarou. Hiring him will guarantee you with a steady pair of hands beneath the waves, be it gathering, salvage, or sabotage.

 What should have been a calm voyage touring the archipelago erupts into violence when a group of elven divers assumed that the vessel was encroaching on their hunting grounds. The party will have to defend themselves long enough to get a word in edgewise.

[metalichotchoco]

“Let’s drag them under fizz”

We’ve got the sunlight zone tidal tricker and the deep waters bloodharbor ripper

It’s a fun dynamic to put someone as cutesy as fizz on top of pyke’s bald little head

[chameshida]

Have you seen the new Dragon species? Mist Twister, Tidal Class, one head breathes heated water and the kther head breathes cold water. Gembreaker, Tracker Class, has a crystal horn and beetle wings and spits explosive loogies. Featherhide, Mystery Class, turns invisible and screams. And Fault Ripper, class currently unknown, abilities currently unknown (though likely causes quakes). Will you be using these dragons in your art and hybrids?

I've only seen Gembreaker and Thunder profiles so thank you for directing me to the info, I think it's going to be a bit before I consider hybritize them as I haven't even done that to Rescue Rider dragon yet. but drawing them may be likely, mostly to get a hang of their designs.

Gembreaker remains my favourite. Thunder is wonky but that may be because of the model quality and stylelization than the species thing because he's suppose night light. Not too hot on Wu and Wei but I like how the lower wings connect to the body and I'm glad to finally see east asain inspired dragon being a water dragon and not fire at last. Featherhide look like RR dragons the most but somehow their design works better than some. Still got issues with how Faultripper look.

[dustedmagazine]

GG King — Remain Intact (Total Punk)

Remain Intact LP by GG KING

GG King has come a long way since he fronted the Carbonas and advanced substantially since his last full-length, Unending Darkness (of which, Doug Mosurock said, “Build your own world, rain on it, mope around, riff hard. There is no more complete of a voice in punk-leaning music right now,” in his year-end for 2015.) Remain Intact retains the fuzzy, drum-rupturing fury of GG King’s earlier work and incorporates roughly the same cast of characters: Ryan Bell on bass, Josh Feigert and Mike Koechlin on guitar (in addition to King himself), Tyler Kinney on drums and cameos from Chris van Etten, Graham Tavel and Andrew Wiggins. The difference is here that he makes the music anthemic. There are strong, memorable tunes under the dissonance here and at least a couple of songs that would be fists-up, lighters-lit, arena-sized bangers in an era that valued such things.

Start right at the beginning with “Remain Intact,” with its bright, clarifying guitar riff, not just the slash and burn punk strum you might expect, but something lighter, prettier, almost new wave in the tone-bending mesh. The chorus, too, is woozy but ear-wormy, slurred and snarled but inescapably tuneful. It is, right off the bat, more song-like than anything on Unending Darkness, which was excellent, but made roughly zero concessions to pop likeability.

“Melt On You” is even better, a ragged romantic ripper about love and death and surrender. It’s framed by big crashing chords and racheting drum play and comes on like a tidal wave, but you could sing the chorus after a single listen, and you’ll hear it in your head before you’ve been listening very long.

Not that King is going soft. “Dekalb County Endless” arises out of a brutal, rupturing explosion of bass; its narrative is yelped and groaned, an endless litany of Atlanta-area place names spat out in desolate contempt. (GG King does not appear to like the farmers’ market.) “Golden Horde Rising” machine gun sprays guitar riffs in every direction as it gallops headlong into the void. “Rising, rising, golden horde rising,” chants King and his band mates in a straightforward act of punk mayhem.

The disc ends in an odd but really kind of mesmerizing way with “Timesick (Doom and Gloom).” Here King talk sings against the woozy thunder of fuzzed out guitar about the nature of time. His observation, which will resonate with anyone who’s ever watched the progress bar in iTunes, is about how dividing the tedium up into ever smaller packages only hastens the race towards death. It’s a startling bit of philosophy from an artist who, so far, has seemed content to punch up the walls.

So, stronger tunes, better songs, deeper thoughts and, really, no major compromises. I’d call it a win. Remain Intact is understating things. GG King is still growing.  

Jennifer Kelly  

[pd-in-40k]

I had another 40k dream.

I can't remember much of the 'plot,' but I do remember getting to see Sanguinius in person! ^^ For some reason he was also a centaur though, which was kinda strange. I remember that he had rescued me from something that was happening by putting me on his back and galloping away from whatever it was. I also remember seeing another Primarch that I don't think actually existed in canon. He had long, beautiful blonde hair and his armor was cobalt blue. According to my dream, he was one of the lost primarchs. Aparrently he died so early that nobody really remembered him. I think I might have glimpsed his gene-sons at one point though (who were also wearing cobalt blue armor). It also seems like every time I expected to encounter Gulliman, this lost primarch would show up instead.

I also remember getting to see an (unarmored) Space Marine, but he seemed like he was super ticked off and punched some random human in the face, instantly knocking him out cold (or killing him on impact it's hard to say). I also remember being around some Chaos Marines, but they seemed completely oblivious to my presence for some reason. It seemed like they were either a single traitor legion that worshiped both nurgle or slaanesh, or it was two different legions that had come together for the time being. For some reason, they were trying to make the biggest and most disgusting soup imaginable (and yes, they were mostly using their own bodily fluids 🤢). I don't know why they were doing this, but I do know that they were definitely intending to use it for something nefarious.

Next thing I knew I was with Gulliman, who was trying to stop them. I guess me wondering where he was enough times finally made him manifest. XD Apparrently his plan was to drop some tyranid 'seeds' near their camp then run like heck (looking back this was probably the stupidest idea ever). I remember him opening some kind of test tube and scattering its contents out in some field. In a few moments, there were teeny-tiny bioforms scuttling around in the grass. As we were running, I could see that there were some rippers beginning to show up. I think that the next time I looked back, there was like a tidal wave of gaunts chasing us. ...For some reason I wasn't scared.

That's pretty much all I can remember though.

[anapproachingstorm]

❝ i never want to let go. ❞ Nina, let's get them feels going

Nina hadn’t offered to accompany the boys. Perhaps that was her final way of showing respect for their mother. After a few weeks of governmental red-tape and providing proof of kinship, they had taken possession of the cremains of “Jane Doe 8389.” After the attack on Paradiso, and well after the fires died down, and the human authorities were able to access the scene, they had found the burned body of a woman. No one claimed her, and no one could say what had happened to the two boys neighbors swore existed, but which traces of whom were never found. They could tell she had been murdered and the house set on fire, but they knew nothing else. No personal records seemed to exist in the home and the home itself was always owned by a private man, an S. Sparda, according to records, whom no one could find or reach.

The cosmic force that called herself Nina was finding humanity more and more tiresome as the boys went about officially claiming her remains. It was a process that seemed to tear at their wounds as a seam-ripper tore at pesky hems. Dante handled as he always did: raw, but frank and honest. We need to get Mom, this is how we do it.

Vergil demurred, and didn’t let anything show. He took point, as the eldest and he dealt with the paper work and he went to collect her from the coroner ..

In the end, Nina was slightly sad to learn that the woman whom her adopted son, neglected by Astaroth, and beloved despite his own shenanigans and nuisances, so loved ended up taking up only about as much space as a large jar.. And she didn’t want to think about two, full grown men such as her grandsons, sitting in the back of the cab that took them to the cliffs near the bay, with their mother, beloved and loss, sitting in the plain metal urn provided by the government for those who were unidentified and unclaimed.

Eva, not “Jane Doe 839,” had been rescued, by her boys, from her potter’s plot and they solemnly spread her ashes into the wind, allowing her to join nature, the ocean, the rocks, the sky.. She had gotten a message from one of those human-talking-boxes during their ride back, and Vergil seemed to indicate that Dante had broken down on the ride back. Folded in half, crying as though a child, for a moment inconsolable until he finally allowed himself to be soothed, both by himself and his brother.

“But are you alright?”

She sent that to Vergil’s little talking box, but she got no answer. So she was forced to wait. To sit. And stew. And worry. And lament.

When he did come home, opening the door, he looked as he always did. Calm, neutral, an icy veneer that hid the tempest that Nina could clock the minute he crossed her wards. She stood up from the table where she had been waiting for him. He shrugged off his coat, and Nina was concerned, because he didn’t sound as if anything was wrong, as if he had just gone to the store, perhaps picked up some tea.

“It was a calm day for wind, thank Lucifer,” he was saying, hanging his coat up on the hall-tree.

“That’s so comforting to hear,” she said, cautiously. The shoe was about to drop. She could feel it. It was coming.

“We didn’t know what to do with the urn,” he said, still conversational, still light as he went to turn to her. His hands were shaking. “We’ll likely return it to the coroner’s office, though I’d be concerned if they reuse it of course – “

“Vergil.”

Nina spoke his name softly, her hands worrying each other in front of her. Vergil seemed to see her for the first time since he came home, and he swallowed hard, throat clicking.

“Yes?”

“Are you alright?”

“Of course,” he said, too quickly, voice tight. “It was a lovely moment, just Dante and Mother and I ..” He seemed to look sheepish and Nina tensed. The wheels were about to come off this apple-cart, she could feel it. “I didn’t know what to do with the urn. I, ah. I left it by the door for now and I, um..”

He made a vague gesture with his hands and Nina felt the bands around her heart tightening.

“She .. She was so small..”

That was it. That was the leak in the dam and soon, the damn broke. Vergil bit his bottom lip, eyes narrowed as he fought it and, to Nina, it was as if watching a death on time lapse. He brought both hands to his face, heels of his palms against his eyes, as though to stop the tears from flowing, but he crumbled. A house-fire of a man in that moment, Vergil leaned against the breakfast island in the kitchen, and collapsed.

Nina was there, arms around him, trying to hush him, one arm around his shoulders, the other to pull his head to her, to allow him the opportunity to hide, to make himself small, to try to cling to an anchor to weather the storm of his heart at that moment. Haggard, ugly sobs escaped him as one hand gripped Nina’s arm with enough force to bruise.

“I know,” she whispered, stroking his hair. “I know..”

It steadily became more a panic attack, hyperventilating gasps and wheezes, and less a collapse of emotions, and Nina found herself to be the one keeping him upright. Some comments came across, through the filter of his sobs, his attempts at pulling in air.

She’s gone.

Truly gone.

They hadn’t even known her name.

She was kept in a box, in some human’s office..

“I know,” Nina cooed, gently. “I know..”

He started to settle, the intensity burning fast, but when Nina shifted, he clung to her all the harder, most his weight supported by the island, but so much of it still trying to exist in the circle of her arms.

“I need,” he attempted. “I can’t .. I never want to let go, I can’t – “

Nina settled to just hush him again, as the tidal wave pulled back away from the ruins of the initial landfall and she worked in picking through the pieces and remains .. Just as she always did..

[if-only-angels-could-prevail]

In recent years, people tend to mistake movies in which female characters “show badass broads avenging themselves” (to quote an article in BUST magazine), as feminist. But again, people think that everything that is not misogynistic is feminist.

...

Russ Meyer was part of the tidal wave of mainstreaming the objectification of women in the 1960s. And while some of his films feature “badass broads,” it’s important to remember that for Meyer, those broads were largely sexual fetishes. And while I understand that the experience of watching FASTER, PUSSYCAT! KILL! KILL! (1965) can be empowering for female viewers, it’s going too far to suggest that Meyer himself had a feminist agenda in mind when he was making it. I’ve even seen female writers attempt to imbue dictionary-definition misogynistic movies such as Lucio Fulci’s The NEW YORK RIPPER (1982) (a prototypical slasher in which any woman who arouses or talks back to men is slaughtered) with feminist virtues. One writer’s reasoning was that RIPPER is feminist because women watching it engage in a gender-performative switch, identifying with the male killer; or in other words, it’s feminist because it has a male gaze. This is what I mean when I say that people are confused.

If critics are really that interested in discussing feminism in cinema, they should pay more attention to actual feminist movies. Otherwise, they are saying that they don’t care about feminism—they only care about giving male directors the label of feminist to legitimize the most violent and potentially controversial work.  They are also saying that movies are fine the way they are, and that we don’t really need more women’s stories or perspectives. If all of the male fantasy movies out there are feminist, then feminism is doing great! Why hire female directors and writers? Since producers generally only care about the bottom dollar, “feminist” to studios and producers has become a code word for “not misogynistic enough to tank at the box office.”

[tuneskit]

It is possible to download Tidal music to MP3 so that we can enjoy Tidal music on any device offline? Sure,  so far there are a large number of methods to help you to extract music from Tidal to MP3. The most direct solution is to use a Tidal to MP3 converter to get Tidal music in the format of MP3 files.

Source: https://www.tuneskit.com/record-audio/convert-tidal-music-to-mp3.html

[storieswrittcnarc]

@wantcnmalice​ sent  "I love the taste of you." (for Will)

There is something utterly amusing in Hannibal’s words. Or rather, his choice of words. Because while he has not proved it yet, Will is certain that Hannibal is the Chesapeake Ripper. Which makes this even more dangerous and stupid. Letting himself be vulnerable with Hannibal is one thing, letting himself be vulnerable in this way is another.

But when Hannibal kisses him it is nearly impossible to get his thoughts straight. It is like Hannibal is some sort of drug and the profiler is addicted to him. Like a tidal wave, he keeps pulling him in and in again and Will is all too happy to drown in him.

It’s wrong. He shouldn’t be allowing someone he is so sure is a serial killer to have him like this but here they are and Will wants nothing more than to feel his lips on his again.

Maybe there’s a part of him that hopes he is wrong about Hannibal.

“That’s funny, coming from you.” Will states though he is vague and he does not give the man time to question it because he’s stepping forward, to press his lips against Hannibal’s again.

Yes, Hannibal is like a drug and god help him - he wants more.