#I just am obsessed with it in every way it’s like untouchable genius

[reds1981]

every other week I watch a video of mitski performing once more to see you and think it’s sad that no one else has or ever will write anything that good

#in the rearview mirror I saw the setting sun on your neck...... #I just am obsessed with it in every way it’s like untouchable genius

[starktonyx]

Let me show you I’m sorry - Peter Parker x reader (smut)

Word count: 3.2k

Request: Peter Parker imagine with some angst and smut? You can put some fluff if you want to. I don't have any specific idea. I totally trust you.

Description: After a heavy and painful fight with Peter, he tries to make it up to you with some reconciliation sex.

Note: I believe I went a little bit hard on the angst part but I really hope it´s what you wanted. I’m just going to say half of this is pain and the other half is filth, so enjoy this rollercoaster of feelings! 

Masterlist 

Things weren't the same anymore.

Peter was not the same anymore.

Ever since Tony Stark's funeral he had acted distant and cold, ignoring the world around him. You supposed it was normal, he had just lost another father figure and he just needed time to mourn.

Except, it wasn't at all how you thought it would be.

You expected to see him fragile and breaking down, because that's how most people mourn, but not him. You were scared when you saw no hint of sadness in him, just anger.

He was irritated all the time, talking back to May, not caring about school or his friends, not even talking to you, his girlfriend, even after you both came back from being vanished for five years.

All he seemed to care about nowadays was his damn spiderman patrol.

You tried to be supportive at first, everyone did, you knew how important being spiderman was for Peter, and you knew it was his way of disconnecting from his problems. But weeks went by and Peter kept ditching everyone for the patrol, getting home late and bruised, barely sleeping afterwards.

He stopped visiting your room after his patrols and rarely texted you back anymore. The days he went to school he avoided everyone, including you. You really tried to be there for him, but he always found an excuse to cancel your dates.

And it hurt like a motherfucker.

Because all you could do was watch how Peter slipped from your hands, how his love for you seemed to vanish more everyday.

You were loosing him.

So you had enough of putting up with his abnormal behavior, and prepared yourself to confront him about it. You went to his place at night, May had warmly welcomed you with a hug, and you could see the pain in her eyes caused by his nephew's actions.

You patiently waited in his room, sitting in his bed as hours went by. Your eyes focused on a trail of polaroids on Peter's wall, and you remembered all of the photos as if they were taken yesterday, yet the happy memories seemed painfully distant now.

Tears threatened to fall as you admired every single photo, they happened a long time ago yet you could still see Peter's love for you in them, and you wished you could feel it again.

Before you broke down you tried to distract yourself with something else in the room, and your eyes landed on his school backpack. It was thrown on the floor, totally untouched as you knew Peter had been ditching his homework lately. You sighed deeply when a noise startled you, and you saw Peter carefully crawling through his window without noticing you in the room.

2:34 am, and Peter was just getting back from his patrol.

"Hi" You whispered standing up, yet it was enough to alarm the boy's senses, and you saw his mask's eyes getting wide when he realized you were there.

"H-hey what ... what are you doing here?" He asked as he silently landed on the floor and took off his mask.

His messy curls almost distracting you, but you were still able to see his nervousness, as he fiddled his mask in his hands and awkwardly shifted his weight from one foot to another. It didn't take a genius to know he didn't want you there.

Like I said, it hurt like a motherfucker.

"I wanted to know if you were okay" You nervously started, taking a deep breaths. "I just ... I think you've been way too focused on your spiderman duties"

He just shrugged his shoulders and rolled his eyes.

"You never had a problem with it before" His indifferent voice hit you harder than you expected, and in that moment you lost all nervousness.

Now you were just angry.

"Because you didn't act like an idiot before Peter! you didn't ignore my texts and calls like you do now, you didn't avoid me as if I had the fucking plague. This is not how a relationship works" You painfully ranted, hoping to get a reaction from him, but he just sighed deeply and ran a hand through his hair.

"I've just been busy with my patrol Y/N, you know that's important for me" He protested harshly and you bitterly huffed in response.

"And I'm not? I hate to be that girl but are you so blind to see how much this is hurting me? You barely acknowledge me anymore Peter and you don't even seem to give a damn about it!" You barked, pointing a finger accusingly at him.

"Y/N you don't understand this is not about you! I'm literally saving lives out there, I need you t–"

"No, you don't understand I need you!" You finally spat interrupting him, your voice threatening to break. "Two months ago half of the world was gone. We were gone. For five fucking years Peter"

"I understand tha–"

"No you don't" You interrupted him once again, shaking your head. "You don't understand how lucky we are to have a second chance, to be back here. How dare you throw that opportunity away acting like this?" Your voice was harsh, as you choked the lump in your throat.

"Yeah? At what cost did we get that chance Y/N?" He angrily questioned with a bright red face, not controlling his loud voice. "Because he sacrificed himself for this"

You knew all of this had to do with him.

"No, he didn't sacrifice himself for this. He saved the world for you to move forward with your life and be happy. He did it for you Peter and you pay him like this? Obsessing over your stupid patrol and ignoring the people who care the most about you? For god's sake, May is worried about you, Pepper has called in to check in, even Happy is concerned! Tony wouldn't have wanted this" You desperately cried, your brittle voice softening in the last sentence.

Your begging voice didn't seem to phase him, as he turned his back on you, resting his hands on the windowsill as he inhaled sharply.

"Don't you ever say his name again" Peter grunted, clenching tightly his jaw.

His dark voice scared you, he never spoke so hostile towards you. This is when you couldn't contain the tears anymore.

"Then I don't know what else to say to you" You mumbled choking a sob, hugging yourself with your arms. "I can't keep doing this Peter I ... I can't"

Peter's breath hitched when he heard your silent cries. He knew this was the part where he turned around and apologized, but his mind was so clouded by the anger that he just continued looking through the window, his knuckles turning white from how tight he was gripping the windowsill.

And then he said something he knew he would regret later.

"Then leave" The words left his mouth so bluntly that even he was surprised by the lack of emotion in them.

The next thing he heard was a loud sob you couldn't keep to yourself, as you hurriedly scurried out of his room. The windowsill couldn't resist his strength anymore, breaking under the pressure of his hands.

"Peter why ... why did you do that?" May disappointingly asked standing on the door, she had heard all the loud argument and saw you leave crying.

Peter just half turned his body to close the door  on her face with a web, and put back his mask on, ready to get out on the streets again and forget about everything.

•

He made a mistake. A terrible mistake.

Peter repeated himself as he paced back and forth on your apartment building's roof, after he realized how big of an asshole he was with you and he needed to apologize immediately. Three days had passed since he stupidly let go one the most important people in his life.

It took him three days to finally snap out of his mourning act, his mind just processing how he had fucked up with everyone around him.

Especially with you.

He mentally cursed himself, as he took the courage to finally swing outside of your window, standing nervously on the emergency stairs. Your window was closed and covered by your curtains and Peter gulped harshly, you always had them open for him.

Well not anymore.

He noticed the dim light coming from the inside, signaling you were still awake. He took off his mask before softly knocking on the glass, breathing deeply when he heard your footsteps moving across the room.

You were paralyzed on your feet when you opened the curtains to find Peter outside your window, not that you expected anyone else knocking at it really, but you still didn't expect him.

After what he did.

Peter's breath hitched when he saw your face, pale but at the same time red from what appeared to be hours of crying. Peter mentally slapped himself, how could he allow himself to hurt you this bad?

He also noticed you were wearing only one of his shirts as a pajama, and almost smiled at it, it had to mean you didn't totally hate him. He watched you hesitantly open the window, the cold air of the night hitting your puffy face.

"What are you doing here" Your voice came out harsher than you thought and Peter was lightly taken aback by it.

But let's be honest, you both knew he deserved it.

"I ... I–I'm ..." Peter shut himself as he struggled to find the right words, suddenly realizing he didn't exactly have a plan of action for his apology. "Can ... can I come in?"

You stared at him in disbelief for a few seconds, his bloodshot eyes begging you to let him in. You inhaled sharply, moving to the side to let him in the room.

"Alright what now" You bluntly said, stranding in front of him with your arms crossed and hitting your foot repeatedly on the ground.

Peter tried to ignore your defensive position, he ran a hand through his messy curls to try to ease his anxiety, and decided it was best to just go straight to the point.

"I'm sorry" He blurted out, looking straight into your eyes.

You could see his eyes glistening in regret, you breathed deeply breaking the eye contact and looking to the floor, you were not going to give in so easily.

"Sorry about what" You insisted, you needed to hear if he finally realized how much he hurt everyone.

Peter shifted his weight on his feet, scratching the back of his neck.

"About everything" He started, sighing. "I'm sorry for acting like an asshole I just– I was so angry after Tony died because I should've done better, I couldn't stop thinking about it and I couldn't focus on anything else" He said, his brittle voice announcing he would start crying in any moment.

You suddenly forgot about your anger and left your stance, walking towards the breaking boy and cupping his cheeks on your hands.

"Peter you know his death wasn't your fault" You softly said. "You can't blame yourself for what happened"

Peter just gently rested his forehead on yours, closing his eyes.

"But I can blame myself for acting the way I did" The boy mumbled. "I pushed everyone away, I even made May cry Y/n! and I made you cry, I've never done that before what is wrong with me?" Peter cried and you could only embrace him in your arms, hugging him tightly.

"Shh it's okay now Peter, we cried because we care about you. We just wanted to help you" You consoled the boy, softly caressing the back of his head to calm him down.

"I'm so sorry Y/n, please forgive me" His begging voice made a few tears fall from your eyes from seeing him so hurt.

"I do, I forgive you Pete" You breathed deeply.

You stood there holding your embrace for a few minutes, having missed each other's arms. When you finally separated, it only lasted a few seconds before Peter eagerly attacked your lips. You immediately corresponded, melting into the kiss. It was salty, from the tears falling from your eyes. You felt him grab your waist, and you cupped his cheeks again.

The desperate kiss was heating up quickly, when Peter slipped his hands under your shirt, suddenly his suit becoming a barrier between his fingers and your body. He stepped away from the kiss for a second to press the spider symbol in the middle of his suit, loosening the fabric from his body and watching it fall to the ground. You took this as his chance to undress too, quickly lifting your shirt to take it off.

Peter bit his bottom lip when he noticed you weren't wearing a bra under the shirt, your panties were the only thing covering your body. This time he collided his warm body against yours, feeling your hard nipples on his chest and began kissing your neck. You let out silent whimpers as you ran your hands through his torso, yelping when he suddenly lifted you in the air. He climbed your bed, laying you gently in it hovering over your body and placing himself between your legs. "Peter–"

"Shh baby, let me show you how sorry I am" He mumbled hushing you, as he returned his mouth to your neck, sucking on your sensitive skin to give you some lovely marks. "Let me remind you how much I love you"

He began trailing the kisses down your chest, until he reached your boobs and began lightly nibbling on your hard nipples. You couldn't help gently tucking his hair, arching your back to give him a deeper access to your chest.

"Fuck Peter ... I–l missed you" You confessed, your quivering voice under his touch just boosted his ego.

"I missed my sweet girl too ..." He huskily said lowering his kisses to your abdomen, slowly getting to your wet core. "... and the way you taste Y/n"

He put his cold fingers over the fabric of your panties, hurriedly taking them off your body to finally have you laying naked in front of him.

"Oh baby" You finally slipped a pet name out of your lips, throwing your head back when his mouth vigorously attacked your pussy.

"Baby girl you always taste so good" He praised as his tongue worked magic on your clit, sending shivers through your whole body.

He lifted one of his free hands to massage your boobs as his face buried in your throbbing pussy, sucking hard on your sensible clit. You tangled your legs around his head, as they started to shake from the pleasure building up.

"Don't stop baby boy, please" You squirmed under him, he could only smirk between your folds.

He then used his other hand to shove two fingers on your pussy, making you gasp in pleasure when he began thrusting them in and out quickly.

"Fuck fuck fuck" You could only curse between moans, absolutely loving the feeling of Peter's tongue in your clit and his long fingers pumping inside you.

You started feeling the pleasure build up in your whole body, and you could only push Peter's head deeper between your thighs. He fastened the pace of his fingers, knowing you were close to getting off.

He was loving the way you moaned and squirmed under his touch.

And you were enjoying way too much the sounds Peter's lips made on your wet pussy, that it was enough to send you over the edge.

"Baby I'm ... I'm comin– oh" you couldn't finish your sentence as your orgasm ripped harshly through your body with a loud moan escaping your mouth.

Peter's mouth left your pussy with a 'pop', after proudly sucking on your juices when you orgasmed. You tried to recover your breath, as you felt him take out his fingers out of you and you immediately grabbed his hand to suck on his wet fingers.

"Damn babygirl, you're so beautiful when you come" He lowly said, feeling hypnotized as you kept the eye contact while cleaning his fingers.

You left his fingers to push his head closer to yours, his body straddling yours as you desperately kissed him.

"I need you" You begged into his lips, feeling his hard member still covered by his boxers, hard over your stomach. "Please fuck me Peter" You said one last time, playing with the hem of his boxers.

Peter smirked and separated from you to take his briefs off, sending them flying through the room. He took your arms and placed them over your head, holding them still with one hand as he lined up his twitching cock with your entrance with the other.

"Umm yes baby" You loudly moaned when he slammed into you, squeezing your eyes shut when he stretched your walls just right.

"Fuck, how I love your tight pussy" Peter grunted as he began picking up a pace, enjoying the view of your lovely tits starting to bounce with every thrust.

In this moment you both forgot about your your problems, enjoying the feeling of each other. The room was soon filled with your moans and Peter's groans, the sound of your skin clashing together joining the headboard banging on the wall.

You were so grateful your parents were out on an event tonight.

Peter let go of the grip on your arms still above your head, and with one hand grabbed tightly your waist, putting the other on the headboard to help him thrust into you. You took this as your chance to roam your hands through his chiseled torso, never getting tired of the feeling of his hard abs under your touch.

"Right there Pete– fuck keep going" You panted, throwing your head back when he began hitting your spot, already feeling the way your body asked for a release.

"You look so stunning when I fuck you" Peter whispered. "You feel so good Y/n" He continued praising as shivers went down his spine every time your walls squeezed around his dick.

Peter's words managed to send you over the edge, you arched your back when you came harder this time, your whole body shaking with Peter still slamming into you. He smirked when he felt you orgasm under him, his thrusts becoming sloppier when he felt his orgasm run through his body.

"Fuck Y/n baby" He grunted pushing his dick a few more times into you, until his cum completely filled you up.

You bit your lip feeling the warm liquid inside you, loving the way you felt it slowly fall from your sore pussy. Peter enjoyed the stunning view for a moment, until he finally laid down next to you.

The room smelled like sex now, your heavy chests going up and down with harsh breaths were the only sounds as you recovered from your highs.

"I'm sorry" Peter apologized once again after a few minutes of silence. You just sighed, moving your body closer to him to lay on his chest.

"I know" You mumbled as he gently caressed your hair. "Just promise me you'll talk to me next time, no matter what it is I'll be there okay"

"Fuck, I love you so much"

#peter parker #peter parker smut #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker angst #peter parker fic #spiderman imagine #spiderman x reader #peter parker x you #request #marvel fic #marvel smut #marvel angst #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland smut #tom holland #tom holland fic #marvel #marvel masterlist #thor smut #marvel x reader

[escxpedes]

loopholes (cont.)

I literally can’t even begin to tell you how much everyone’s support meant to me on the last chapter. All your comments and tags were so sweet, it was seriously the highlight of my day. I’m sorry for the delay, I meant to get this out a couple of days ago, but I’ve come down with a bad cold. This part, while fun, was so hard to get right. Angus Macgyver is a genius, his mind goes a mile a minute, and I wanted to do my best to replicate that. This part is a little slow in getting to the Macriley stuff, but I wanted to show how much he really thinks about things. He’s such a complex character, that if I didn’t do him justice, I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself. Also, there’s dialogue in this one! Sadly, Jack isn’t mentioned in this chapter, but he’s there in spirit. Clearly, we all love and miss him. I hope you guys enjoy, the last part will be out soon! x

~

loop·hole

noun | A loophole is an ambiguity or inadequacy in a system, such as a law or security, which can be used to circumvent or otherwise avoid the purpose, implied or explicitly stated, of the system

~

Riley finally moves into her new apartment, but struggles to adjust after the events of Codex and the realization of her feelings for Mac. When Mac finds her passed out over her keyboard after a late night of coding at Phoenix, he decides a talk is long overdue. Just some slightly angsty soft!macriley to help you cope with this season 5 hiatus.

~

of lips that i am yet to kiss (and eyes not met my own.)

It's highly unlikely that you'll find Mac walking down the halls of the Phoenix Foundation so late at night. Without the bustling energy of his coworkers fetching important documents or discussing the best way to break down one of the many mysteries the foundation deals with, the darkened hallways and quiet atmosphere can be unnerving.

Sure, he spends nearly every waking hour employed there, but he'd rather be outside the office in different countries, doing hands-on work and saving lives. When you work in his profession, It can be difficult to separate business and pleasure, but that only makes it more important—if only to conserve what mental health he has left. 

However, in the haste of putting together last-minute preparations for yet another meeting with the Department of Justice and trying to make it back to his house in time for something Desi whipped up, he managed to forget his cellphone.

It's funny, mainly because of how little the small device truly matters to Mac.

It only goes to show how insignificant material objects, or even human beings in general, are. The idea that something so meaningless can affect someone's life so much when, if they just looked past that obsession and considered its part in the profound scope of the universe, another perspective would take shape.

It's fascinating stuff, really.

There's a concept essential to understanding Japanese aesthetics, otherwise known as an ancient set of ideals important to Japanese society, called Yūgen. When applied in the right context, Yūgen underlines this deep awareness of the universe and the experiences we have within it. It's often the feeling interpreted when you gaze at the stars late at night or watch the sunset dip behind a hill.

Mac wouldn't think twice before breaking his phone, or rather, breaking the phone of his nearest friend, open for an obscure part that might make one of his many homemade devices come together. However, when he's the only person able to communicate the scientific specifications of an unheard-of-until-recently base plan for saving the planet, he's practically on call 24/7.

He remembers having it in the labs earlier that day when he stopped by before his meeting to remind Bozer to come by his house on Friday for the team's new weekly attempt in group-bonding.

After the betrayals that surfaced during the climax of taking down Codex, the team collectively decided to spend more time as a group in hopes of eliminating any lingering doubts. 

They used to hang out all the time before the government dismantled the Phoenix Foundation.

Mac still can't believe that, after everything they had been through, he allowed his friendships to dissipate over the year they had been separate.

Bozer is his childhood best friend, and Riley had become a solid foundation in his life. He didn't have anyone outside his team at Phoenix, and while he deeply cared for Desi, their first relationship was proof that too much time—and too little communication—with each other can do severe damage to one's sanity.

If Russ hadn't brought them back together, would they have tried to reconnect at some point?

Mac wants to say they would have but wouldn't blame them if they didn't; they all lost something they cared about, and each served as a constant reminder of it.

It would've been hard, but part of him feels like living without them is a lot harder.

When he manages to access the lab, flipping his shiny new I.D. card over his fingers and into its place in his wallet, his eyes scan the room. It's empty, which isn't unusual at this time, but years of military training have rewired his brain to notify him of threats, even if there aren't any.

Just like he thought it would be, the device sits untouched a few tables behind Bozer's workspace where Mac had been sitting.

Quickly, because he left the house in a hurry and forgot to leave a note, he scoops up his phone and makes his way towards the exit. There's a couple of missed calls, but it doesn't seem like he missed anything too important.

Not that they would let him. 

At any rate, they would probably show up on his doorstep if they couldn't get a hold of him. With days off so few and far between, that's the kind of interaction he's hoping to avoid. Hence, why he came to pick up his phone when he realized it was missing instead of waiting until the next day.

He's nearly made it to the end of the hall when a light flashes in his peripheral vision, coming from the I.T. department.

His body is tense with apprehension; his mind races with several different kinds of possibilities and outcomes. He slows his pace, his movements fluid, silent, and controlled from years of stealth practice.

The light is soft, he notices, as if only one or two monitors are in use.

When he gets to the doorway and nudges open the door, hands at the ready, his entire body sags in relief to see the dark wavy hair he's come to associate with one of his closest friends.

"Riles?"

The nickname falls from his mouth before he can stop it, and even though the light from the monitor creates a halo above her head, shadowing her features, it's unmistakably her.

She doesn't move. 

It becomes abundantly clear why as Mac moves towards her and notices the monitor's screen filling up with a sequence of letters that look nothing like coding despite his lack of knowledge in programming languages.

Her elbow balances precariously on the edge of the table, her arms creating a makeshift pillow for her head. The weight of her forearm bears down on the keyboard, causing the side of her hand to press down multiple keys at once.

He shakes his head a little, amused by the situation unfolding. 

Her cheek rests comfortably on her hand, a serene expression masking the signs of exhaustion that showed on her face.

Mac's lips curved into a soft smile, seeing Riley in any state that wasn't cloaked in layers of worry or anxious determination always washed away any doubts he might have about working in such a stressful field.

The scars that covered his body, the secrets he has to keep, and the pain he has to endure are so unbelievably worth it as long as she out of harm's way and able to sleep peacefully.

Of course, he couldn't imagine anyone else by his side on a mission, knowing they share the same love and passion for kicking ass and saving lives.

However, he also knows that more lies underneath the surface.

He wouldn't wish the hardships of this job on anyone. Seeing it affect someone he cares about, watching it break them down slowly pulls at his heartstrings and fills him with a knowing sadness. 

When a piece of hair falls into her face, his fingers don't hesitate to gently brush it behind her ear, lightly tracing her cheekbone and caressing her cheek.

Kneeling, his hand drops to her shoulder in an attempt to gently wake her.

After a couple of shakes, the expressive brown eyes he's come to look forward to seeing begin to flutter open and nearly render him speechless.

She blinks a couple of times, inhaling slowly, "Macgyver."

Her voice is full of sleep and breaks from misuse, but the way she says his name—like there's nobody else she'd expect to see when she wakes up —has him grinning from ear to ear.

"Good morning, sleepyhead."

Rising from her position on the table, she scans the room before meeting his eyes and scoffing, "It's hardly the morning."

He laughs softly, holding back the urge to mention that technically it is morning considering its past twelve. Instead, he focuses on the matter at hand, or more likely, the question at hand.

"What are you doing here so late?"

She's more alert now, sitting back in her chair and lifting her arms to stretch out the muscles that stiffened while she slept, glancing at her work on the monitor.

Her face drops into a grimace when she notices her mistake, "Matty and I were talking about updating the foundation's firewall and spyware," she yawns, "I must have been more tired than I realized."

Mac's eyebrows scrunch in thought, remembering something Bozer said earlier about Riley spending quite a few nights this week working late.

Between going over his mother's scientific data, trying to patch up whatever relationship he had left with Desi, and making sure he didn't go off the rails with grief, his effort to check in on everyone decreased significantly.

"Yeah, you've been doing that a lot lately," his hand returned to her shoulder to emphasize his point, "Everything okay?"

She waves him off, "There's too much work that needs to be done around here before we can get things running the way they used to."

Riley doesn't lie to him—if you overlook the whole situation with her ex, Aubrey, that is, but the movements she's making indicate otherwise.

Her eyes refuse to meet his, flickering down and to the right. When she talks, her head shakes lightly, and she purses her lips in an attempt to give off a careless impression. Maybe someone who doesn't know her or didn't train to pick up on it would believe her, but he knew better.

She was definitely hiding something from him.

Part of him understands that if she wanted to talk about it, she would. However, his instincts urge him to press harder, locate the problem, and bring back her contagious smile that always seems to fill him with warmth.

As much as he doesn't want to admit it, you can't patch some things together by sheer will and sellotape, so instead, he stands up and drops his hand from her shoulder.

"Let's get you home."

#macgyver #macriley #angus macgyver #riley davis #i really hope you like this

[ladyimaginarium]

Oooooookay, so .... autistic ( and otherwise neurodivergent ) characters are honestly almost entirely unheard of in the rpc in all my experience on here and being an autistic person myself, this is pretty damn discouraging. So, with that said, in honor of Autism Acceptance Month, I’m gonna give y’all a few tips on what to do and what NOT to do when writing autistic characters, because honestly the only time I’ve ever seen autistic characters on here is by autistic muns themselves and even that’s not often seen and that’s ... a damn shame.

Write varied autistic people - we are not a monolith. Don’t just write nonverbal autistic people or autistic savants. We aren’t all just awkward, genius white men like you’d see on most tv shows as pretty much the only autistic/coded characters. We can be men, women, both or neither. There are trans, non-binary, LGBTPQIA2+ people and autistic people of every color, ethnicity and size, and in fact, scientific studies state that autistic people are more likely to be transgender and/or non-binary than cisgender.

Autistic people can have a sexual orientation and they can fall in love and just because they’re autistic doesn’t invalidate their identity, so be sure to respect autistic LGBTPQIA2+ people, for example, I am demi/omni/bi and I’m very much in love with my girlfriend who I love with everything I have. Now, this isn’t to say that there are no such thing as aro-ace autistic people, I myself am on the aro-ace spectrum, but don’t make that the norm for your autistic muses because I promise you, there are allo autistic people.

Try to be kind and interact with autistic muses, not in the sense of infantilizing them and make the entire story / interaction / thread with the other characters and being like “oh an [insert autistic character here] just walked out with sunshine shooting out their ass.” No. Don’t do that. Treat them like you would any other neurotypical character but with autistic traits. Your autistic character doesn’t have to be a pocket full of sunshine and honestly? Seeing as how there’s such a stigma around autistic people, I genuinely doubt an autistic person would be somehow magically untouched and be this ... ray of sunshine and not being affected by any of the effects that come with the stigma of simply being autistic?

As sad as it is, autistic people are far more likely to be bullied, like myself, than their neurotypical peers simply for being autistic. I was bullied and treated like an outcast my entire life just because I had autism, something I couldn’t control, something I didn’t choose to have. I was treated differently by everyone, including my own family, and not even knowing why. I eventually embraced being The Weird Kid, i hung out with a few other so called Weird Kids who eventually almost all of them ended up being neurodivergent themselves and realized that they were one of the only people who actually treated me like a human being. I apparently liked things “””””too much””””” and “”””too obsessively”””””. I was shamed for showing symptoms of my disorder. I was called weird to my face and behind my back so many times that I’ve genuinely lost count. I was ignored by my so called friends for being weird. I tried to be “normal” by observing the way neurotypicals acted and I became very distant and was no longer able to form genuine connections with people because hardly anyone tried to understand me for who I was. A kid in my class straight up told me in my class that “no one likes you” in front of everyone, the teacher included. And no one did a fucking goddamn thing about it, no one stood up for me. I can’t remember how many times I cried myself to sleep because of just how painful it was. I can’t remember how many times I wanted to end it all but couldn’t do anything because I was afraid that would hurt the few people who loved me for me. I can’t remember how many times I sat alone in the hallway reading a book or sat alone at a table or in the back of the class. I can’t remember how many times I was taken advantage of. I can’t remember how many times I told others that I love animals because they’re the only ones who’re nice. I can’t remember how many times I’ve hung out with people who acknowledged me even if they treated me poorly because hardly anyone if not nobody else even stuck around me for long because people basically avoided me like I was the plague. I can’t remember how many times I internalized that I was just undesirable, ugly, unworthy of friendship, love and basic human respect. Being autistic, in my experience, is a very traumatizing thing and I’m still recovering from these experiences.

If you’re writing more than one autistic character, then make them VARIED with different personalities and life experiences. After all, autism is on a SPECTRUM for a reason. Generally speaking, each autistic person is completely different from each other and half the time, we don’t even share the same symptoms or experiences we have with autism. We’re all completely different individuals who all just so happen to be autistic.

Autistic people are born autistic. We do not “develop” autism at any age. We are born that way but might not show it obviously until later on. Diagnosis doesn’t change who we are either. We’re still the same person, just with a label for things now.

Autism is not an illness. Autism is a developmental disability or neurodevelopmental disorder.

We are not sick. Autism is not an illness. I don’t care if you heard about a kid that’s autistic and a parent’s sad that they never said  “I love you” or hold their parent’s hand. There are more ways to express affection than hand-holding and verbal declarations. We are not sick. We do not need to be cured. I don’t care if you think we’re sad miserable things that will never meet arbitrary life goals. We are people. We just happen to be different.

Do not write an autistic character just because you want a gold star. Do not write an autistic character because you want to be able to say your story is diverse. Do not write an autistic character so that you can get some imaginary trophy. If you’re going to write an autistic character, it should be because you really care about the subject. It should be because you want to learn as much as you want to teach. Do not write autistic characters so that you can pat yourself on the back and give yourself brownie points. Write an autistic character because you really, genuinely, care.

Don’t make an autistic character if it’s literally just a background character that shows up for 0.2 seconds and doesn’t even have a major impact on the story or any real role at all. Not only is that obnoxious for people trying to find fics about autistic characters, it’s insulting. We are not objects you take off a shelf to show off, and then stick back when you don’t want us anymore. Either go all the way or don’t do anything at all.

We are not children. We do not “have the mind of an X year old”. If an autistic person is twelve, they do not “have the mind of a three year old.” They have the mind of an autistic twelve year old. Do not infantize us. Do not treat us like children.

I feel as if a lot of neurotypicals see us autistic people as either being really smart or just plain stupid and that just ... is so fucking infuriating to me. When we talk about our passions, they expect us to know everything about it, but the thing is, an autistic person’s knowledge on said passion can vary from person to person.

Keep in mind that autistic traits in boys and autistic traits in girls can be entirely different.

If you support autism speaks, if you “light it up blue”, if you think the puzzle piece is a good representation of autistic experiences, any of that: get the fuck off my blog, STAY the fuck off my blog, do not talk to me or any other autistic people. By supporting an organization that does not support our basic human rights, that wishes to and gives platform to people who want to abuse us, belittle us, silence us, misrepresent us, murder us because they think we have a missing piece that needs to be fixed and cured, and continue to pretend to care, you have lost your right to speak with autistic people in every given context.

Make sure to do your research by reading articles about and for autistic people BY autistic people before writing an autistic character if you are allistic / neurotypical.

DO. NOT. USE. THE. R-WORD. AS. A. DESCRIPTOR. DO NOT FUCKING DO IT. IT IS A SLUR. DO NOT USE IT IN CASUAL CONTEXT UNLESS SOMEONE IS GOING TO REACT TO IT LIKE THE SLUR IT IS. IF YOU CASUALLY USE IT IN A CONVERSATION I HATE YOU.

ABA? Where people “teach” autistic people to be more normal? Where they force autistic people to make eye contact and not stim or walk on their toes and stuff? Yeah. That’s not a good thing. At all. Do not make it out to be a good thing unless this is later proven absolutely and disastrously damaging and wrong. It’s straight up fucking abuse and torture and it causes massive amounts of trauma for autistic people. End of fucking discussion.

No, having an autistic family member does not give you free reign to add your own rules. This is meant to be a list of rules and guidelines written BY AN AUTISTIC MUN for the benefit of allistic muns so that we can read things without wanting to die of brain implosion and tearing their eyes out and vanishing from the face of the earth.

#OUT OF THE GALAXY. ( ANGIE SPEAKS. ) #tw; suicidal thoughts #wOOOOOO BOIIIIIIII THAT WAS AN EMOTIONAL ROLLERCOASTER- #anyway please don't reblog this unless you genuinely care. #this isn't the go all for how to write an autistic muse but i did what i could ! #psa.

[prorevenge]

How I stopped my co-workers and I being bullied, by outing that awful woman as a serial sexual assaulter. TW mentions of sexual assault.

I think this is a pro-revenge, if not tell me and I will post it elsewhere!

Also, this will be a long one... I am very verbose, and it spills over into text too!

A long time ago I worked for a fast food place that has a very noticeable “golden” (bright yellow usually) symbol.

The People Involved:

Me: a 17-19 year old male living in a medium sized town in the UK. (I am now old, relatively, damn, how does that happen? :) ) Also a giant toker at the time, had dreadlocks and smoked almost everyday.

Bitchqueen: a hostile, but shockingly beautiful, and thoroughly nasty human woman, approx 19-23 ish during all this nonsense.

TheBigMan: a 2nd assistant manager who I got on really well with from day one. He took no shit from bullshitters, had zero tolerance for Bitchqueen (his usual greeting was something like “Hey Bitchqueen, who are you going to pick on today?”) and if he saw her bullying someone he would just walk in between her and the victim and bend down to stare in her face. She would walk off and pretend nothing had happened. More than once he stated if BQ were a man she would have been beaten senseless by him by now. He hated violence, but she was really awful! Also he was a bit of a unit. As in 250lbs of muscle and a gym obsession long before it was cool! Also a fairly big smoker, we used to get high after work a lot with some of the other employees.

AwesomeManager: my stores 1st assistant manager, who was a wonderful women who helped me as a human a lot in a huge number of ways. Protecting me from Bitchqueen was only part of it.

Senior Area Manager: who I will call SAM, since all the actual Sam's I have know have all been good dudes too! Also a great protector from the BS of BQ.

MonsterBitch: the new store manager and the proximate cause of her own, and BQ's downfall. Also a troll faced harridan who oozed hate and bitterness.

So time to tell the tale of how it panned out.

I had been there a year or so before Bitchqueen was promoted to manager. Until then she was obnoxious but powerless, but somehow, after marrying the store manager she got a promotion (jumping the next two steps up at that) to second assistant manager. Surprising eh?

I had been warned by TheBigMan when I was first hired to never be alone with her as she had a number of young men fired for “groping” her by her Store Manager-BF/Fiancé/Husband (even when the video showed that there was no close contact let alone groping in some of those cases . I was super careful in this regard.

Bitchqueen started playing games with the rota against me and a few others she hated. I think she hated me because I got along with most people, and she always hated sociable and non-bitchy people. Her favourites got the best shifts and the people she hated had our hours cut and shifted about without warning. She would pencil in changes a few minutes before a shift started (I caught her doing it but her store manager husband didn't want to deal with it) and then send home the one who turned up for their (now given away) shift with a warning. She would then call up and scream at the one who was off, but now suddenly on shift, for not arriving when they had no idea the shift was changed. It's sort of genius really, getting two workers Bitchqueen hated in one blow! She did try this crap on me but I just called Awesome Manager and she checked the computer records and sorted it out, she also let Bitchqueen know she was going to be checking the rota daily and approving all changes, so Bitchqueen had to find a new tactic.

I was a pretty hard worker (it made the time pass quicker for me) and was friends with the AwesomeManager (and TheBigMan), who protected me from Bitchqueens bullshit almost all of the time, and would fix things when shit happened while AwesomeManager was off work. I also cultivated a good relationship with with our SAM, and he ended up setting up a special store rescue team to sort out failing (franchise usually) stores in the area, placing me in charge of it as the top trainer of the group (Bitchqueen was maybe 7 months into being a manager at this point). This made me more or less untouchable (as long as I kept my nose clean) and so Bitchqueen went mental. She started on my friends, bullying and abusing them in work, and trying to get them all written up. They told me and I told AwesomeManager, she slapped Bitchqueen down again, metaphorically of course. TheBigMan made some complaints about her treatment of the other staff and she calmed down a little. Until her husband got “promoted” to a different store some distance away. Later SAM admitted this was an attempt to calm the drama at our store... But how wrong it all went!

Our new store manager was a MonsterBitch, but good at hiding it to begin with. After a few weeks AwesomeManager noticed that only young women were getting accepted after interviews, and pointed this out to Me and TheBigMan, and asked us to keep out eyes and ears out for anything dodgy going on. It wasn't long until it became clear what was happening.

I had made pretty good friend with one of the new hires (I admit it, I was interested and she was hot ), I will call her ShyNSweet, she was a lovely but very sheltered young lady from a nearby village, living in a house share in the town we worked in. She went out with “the girls” a group centred on MonsterBitch, Bitchqueen and a couple of MonsterBitch's “friends” on a Friday, and the next day in work was really distracted. We finished at the same time so I offered ShyNSweet a lift (that is I gave her a ride home in my car for our American friends) and she said yes since we lived pretty close together. In the car I asked if she had a fun night (just asking to fill the time, I wasn't digging at this point) and she replied in a very non-committal way. I remembered her saying she had a great time to Bitchqueen earlier during our shift so I asked her if she was OK. She burst into tears and told me that she had been the back of a Taxi with MonsterBitch and one of the “friends” (Bitchqueen was upfront) and MB and the friend had been groping ShyNSweet really hard (she showed me some bruises on her sides and thighs later, she said she had more on her boobs) and telling her she had to go back to their house and “experience real sex”. I was livid! But I tried to be outwardly calm. I told her that they should be punished, and I would support her, and I knew that SAM, AwesomeManager and TheBigMan would all have her back. I recommended we go to the police, but she was afraid she would lose her job. I knew she wouldn't, but couldn't convince her quickly and I didn't want to traumatise her further, so I just said what ever she chose I would support, and to call me if she is ever in a similar situation and I will come get her. She hugged me for ages crying and we went and had a cup of tea in her house. Her flatmate knew something was up and I encouraged ShyNSweet to tell her too. She did and I left after making them more tea.

I had to do something, but I couldn't directly involve ShyNSweet, and although I knew SAM, AwesomeManger and TheBigMan would believe me I had no direct evidence of an assault. So what to do? Well the first thing was to check where I stood legally, and it turns out the UK is a one party consent recording jurisdiction. As long as I am in place with no reasonable expectation of privacy I don't have to inform anyone I am recording audio or video, at least according to the lawyer I asked who is a friend of my step-father. Work counted as no expectation of privacy, so I was good to record everything. Of course back then the smallest video cameras were the size of a small shoe box and really expensive, and I was a burger-chucker, so cash was tight (smoking a lot of weed didn't help there either). But you could get some reasonably cheap audio recording stuff, that with an ok microphone could be hidden in my shirt. So I started a log of Bitchqueen and MonsterBitch's antics in the store, it was nearly 8 months of recordings in total before the fan was struck by faeces. While they didn't direct much at me anymore I was able to capture multi-minute rants from both of those awful harpies on almost every shift for about six months, in one recording I got Bitchqueen ranting at a co-worker for about 20 mins and then me for another 30 mins or so after I redirected her towards me. They would call workers (almost always men, but any woman who had turned them down got some shit thrown their way too), stupid, useless and worthless etc, with lots of fun adult words mixed in. They also got into the habit of threatening everyone they dislike with firing.

I also got a lot of audio from young women about how creepy and sexually inappropriate MonsterBitch, Bitchqueen and their little gang of “lesbian” managers (most of them were or had dated men, so Bi I guess, but horrible humans regardless of their orientations) were to the women who worked for us. I got several direct statements about female co-workers being abused and told to keep quiet by the abuse gang members on various girls nights out, and a few of them referred to bad things happening at MonsterBitch's house when they were too drunk to remember everything. Basically we had a blackmail and rape gang operating in our midst!

The final attack on me came when I was called into work by AwesomeManager and told I was being investigated for smoking weed on shift. While I did smoke a lot of weed at the time I never went to work high (food you get fired for eating without permission and the munchies don't mix), and anyway that day in particular the accusation was dated was one where I hadn't had any for a couple of days or been able to sort any out for a smoke after work either. So I was totally truthful when I was asked about it by AwesomeManager, and she said that because of the bullying she was escalating this to SAM, so she “suspended” me on full pay pending an investigation. The next day SAM called me and asked me to come for a formal interview, as the first part of the information finding process. He also said TheBigMan was on shift and would be happy to be my witness. So I went down and sat in the crew room waiting for SAM with TheBigMan. SAM stuck his head around the door and said “Deny everything to do with weed!” and winked. He stepped out again and then opened the door with a serious face and asked myself and TheBigMan to come through to the back office. We went through a few questions and I answered everything truthfully (pretty sure SAM thought I was smoking that day but gave no fucks about weed) and the interview ended with SAM reinstating me, paying me for the previous day and the interview day and giving me another store to fix for two weeks to get me away from Bitchqueen and the pack of harpies.

When I was back from the failing store, but not working that Monday, I got a call from ShyNSweet. MB and BQ had told her she had to come to their “Girls only” house party that Friday (it was going to be a BBQ and probably a lot of raping drunk girls by hostile lesbians). The rape gang had been telling all the attractive girls to go to the party or “think about finding a new job if you can't be a team player”. (MB, BQ and another horror worked at our store, the other 3 worked at a nearby store)

And that was the straw that broke the proverbial camels back! I had those awful bitches!

I had organised the audio files into groups by person and topic, I had over 10 hours of insults and abuse recorded and I had nearly another 10 hours of staff telling me how they had been abused by BQ, MB and their pack of rapists.

I called SAM and told him I had to speak to him that day, he agreed and we met at a competitors store (I think they have a kingdom of burger chuckers ;) ) at lunchtime where I sat him down in front of my awful (at the time super cutting edge lol) laptop and had him listen to bits of the rape allegations first.

He started shaking with rage after about 30 seconds, stopped it and told me to go to the police.

I then started on the abusing rants messages and he listened to bits of a bunch of them and asked for copies of those files. I had already burned them to CD so I handed them over and went to the police station.

I asked for a woman police officer and had her listen to the abuse allegations. She took a CD copy of those and told me to be quiet while the investigated. I said fine, but that this Friday the rape gang would have a number of under 18's at an alcohol fuelled rape party. She asked for and got the address and details. I passed on the names of all the women who I knew for sure had been attacked in the past too, since the police wanted to contact them to confirm things, the police here never give out witness information so I was safe from retaliation.

The next Thursday I was on a late shift, so I arrived around 15:15 and when I got there the store was shut but the staff were inside. I got let in and told what had happened.

MonsterBitch and Bitchqueen had been on day shifts and were apparently non-stop talking about how great their girls only party would be, how any girl who had a boyfriend would dump him after spending the night with them, and how any women who didn't attend were basically traitors to womankind. After about 6 hours of this, and at around 14:00 6 police officers come into the store and arrest MonsterBitch and BitchQueen on suspicion of sexual assault, blackmail, extortion and assault. They were both removed in handcuffs and SAM was there just after the police to shut them out of the computers and officially suspend them. When I arrived they were just getting set to re-open so we got back to work.

Later I got more info on the case, my best friends older brother was in the police force locally and he kept us updated. MB's rape house was raided, the police found lots of videos of what was clearly assaults on drunk and non-consenting women. They got lots of text message evidence for planning sexual assaults and talking about how to control young female employees to get them to have sex with the rapists. They also had lots of threatening messages to victims to be quiet or face revenge/loss of job etc. All their victims were under 20, with most being 16-18. But the deepest fuck up for them came from this evidence, and I had no idea when I got this all in motion.

MonsterBitch had picked up a young woman from a club a few months earlier. This young lady was up for lesbian sex with MB, BQ and another friend, while a fourth on filmed it. But the young lady was 15 and just looked over 18 with makeup etc. So the rape gang had produced child porn inadvertently.

MB, BQ and all the other managers who were involved were fired after the arrests/charges.

They were all charged with a number of things, but the courts back then were even more lenient to female sexual offenders than they are now, so none of them saw prison. But they were all banned from working with children, or in an environment where children will be present, and the ones who were married/in a relationship were all divorced/broken up inside a year. Because of the UK laws at the time they were also not named publicly.

I know Bitchqueen never really recovered or grew past this, I see her now and again if I visit my mother, and she is still beautiful, but so clearly broken its almost sad.

ShyNSweet was my girlfriend for a year or so a few years later, we parted on good terms as she was off to study overseas.

AwesomeManager went on to be a store manager, and then a Pro Dominatrix, which wasn't a real surprise to me ;) She was/is a fun lady

TheBigMan, went on to run an IT dept in a large company, still a top bloke!

And I ended up in a field I love, being paid actual money to more or less mess about all day, and that is doing my job! :)

(source) (story by burgerchucker)

#prorevenge #by burgerchucker #pro revenge #revenge stories #pro revenge stories #pro #revenge #revenge story #last10

[dustedmagazine]

Listed: Tomás Nochteff (Mueran Humanos)

Mueran Humanos, an Argentinian duo now based in Berlin, mixes post-punk, industrial-inflected synth explorations, garage rock and psychedelia. Carmen Burguess and Tomás Nochteff share vocal duties and play a very basic line-up of instruments: bass, synths, drum machines and samplers. In his review for Dusted, Andrew Forell called their latest, Hospital Lullabies, “a thrilling concoction of electronic, industrial, bass-driven body music fueled by the transgressive spirit of a DAF or a Psychic TV.” Here, Tomás presents his list of visionary music.

A list of visionary music

What is a visionary? Visions can come in dreams, in journeys to other worlds, in hallucinations. They can be the product of will, of a derangement of the senses, or they can come uninvited to save you or to haunt you and destroy your mental balance, even your life. It can be heavenly, or hellish, but to be authentic visions they have to be otherworldly. And to be visions rather than just imagination, they must have an element of truth. Not literal truth, like “that wall is green,” but a different kind of truth, the one that´s expressed in symbols, in metaphors, in omens and obsessions. In “Heaven and Hell,” Aldous Huxley analyzed the visions of people under the influence of psychedelic drugs, the visions of mystics and the visions of schizophrenics. He found fundamental parallels and concluded that they must have been visiting the same places. These people are not merely hallucinating, but they are perceiving another reality, visiting a different world, or maybe they are perceiving the world as it really is. And he quotes Jung on this: “schizophrenics and mystics are on the same ocean, but schizophrenics are drowning and mystics are swimming.” A visionary could be a mix of all these archetypes. Like Philip K Dick: was he on drugs? Yes. Was he mad? Yes. Was he seeking enlightenment? Yes. Had his visions an element of truth? No doubt about it. Were his visions revelations? To some extent, yes.

On our last album, Hospital Lullabies, the songs deal with all these different experiences on the journey to another world and on the invasion from another world into everyday life, with its horror and its beauty, the agony and the ecstasy. And how one copes, or doesn´t, with it.

So to celebrate it, I made a list of music that I do consider visionary. There’s madmen, there’s mystics and there’s psychonauts, all possible combinations of the three archetypes and everything in between.

Pharoah Sanders—“The Creator has a Masterplan” (Impulse)

I don´t know much about cosmic jazz, or any jazz for that matter, but what I know is that this record is pure bliss. “Harvest Time,” on Pharoah is another masterpiece. Alice Coltrane and Don Cherry are also incredible. This is music of the spheres; it has the touch of God.

Rudimentary Peni—CacophonyI (Outer Himalayan Records)

One of the few perfect punk bands ever, for lots of reasons. The bass lines are extraordinary, for example. But they belong here because of schizophrenic member Nick Blinko: incredible artist & novelist, obsessed with Catholicism and the supernatural horror. A guy who stopped his medication to force himself into a psychotic crisis just to write an album. Hero. Martyr.

Nico— “Janitor of Lunacy” (Cherry Red Records)

For me, Nico was the best and more underrated of all Velvets (and we love Velvet Underground as much as anyone). Also, the production from John Cale on her records is probably his best work too, or at least among his best. I feel that she is not appreciated enough. Iggy said that meeting her changed him. I suspect that´s true for all her famous friends: Bowie, Lou Reed, John Cale, Leonard Cohen, etc. They were all larger-than-life characters. And we know there is an element of self-built mythology on all that, a bit of acting. There is nothing wrong with that; rock and roll at its best is a complete artform and we must appreciate this self-built mythology as part of their craft. But with Nico you don´t get that feeling. She seemed that she didn´t care about her image, she was born Nico and I suspect that in that sense she inspired them all to no end. She was the genuine article. One of our main loves in music. Essential with a capital E.

Coil—“I Don’t Want To Be The One”

Jhonn Balance wanted to be a magician, and he died trying. I think he succeed in building a shamanic body of work with the help of the great late Sleazy and a myriad of brilliant contributors. Coil´s music at its best it´s like a plasma between worlds, or a very, very good psychedelic drug. My most beloved electronic/industrial/post-industrial project ever and one of our main influences. This performance is superb.

Lungfish — Feral Hymns

I´m not interested in DC post hardcore per se, and I don´t have any tattoos. I shouldn´t care about Lungfish the way I do, but they knock me out every single time. Daniel Higgs is a seer. I don´t know what he is talking about, but at the same time, my gut knows exactly what he is talking about. He speaks in images, like Tarot, like the religious painters, like Rimbaud and San Juan de la Cruz. His delivery is supreme. Raw and fragile, yet powerful and precise. Over circular, repetitive, minimal structures of music that have a haunting, arresting effect. Hypnotic, magical, devotional music. Either you get it, or you don´t. I can´t explain it. That´s the beauty of it, I suppose. And the truly mark of the visionary artist.

Ghedalia Tazartes—“Une Éclipse Totale De Soleil Part 2”

Ghedalia for me represents the pure, untouched, sui generis artist. Applying the techniques of musique concrete to the ancient folk music of the Sephardic Jews with a raw energy that usually you can only find in punk, or blues. I see in him an archetype, the Fool card in the Tarot. The madman that opens the gates of heaven and hell, gives himself to these supreme energies and survives only because of his perfect innocence.

OM—“Sinai (live at Sonic City)”

Maybe the greatest rock band of the last 20 years. Here with Robert Aiki Aubrey Lowe to maximum effect.

Charlemagne Palestine—Live in Holland 1998

Like Ghedalia, Charlemagne Palestine is a Jewish artist that works in the avant garde field but subverts it with the tradition of his folk music instead of sticking to the cold, cerebral, rational program of academia. He has his own world. Watch this and you will understand what I am talking about.

Virgin Prunes—Excerpts from Sons Find Devils/“Walls of Jericho”

There is a VHS tape called Sons Find Devils, comprised of live shows and short experimental films (some of them made by Balance, from Coil). I had it as a teenager and watched it countless times. Sadly, it is not complete on YouTube or elsewhere but here are some small extracts. With their heretic mix of Irish Catholic imagery, Irish Paganism, Bataille, performance art and post punk, the Virgin Prunes made a unique and extraordinary body of work. A testament of its importance is that Gavin Friday was guest singer of two bands in this list: The Fall and Coil. And Mr. Scott Walker himself invited him to sing on a play. Maybe the historians ignore them, but Mark E. Smith, Scott Walker and Coil knew where it’s at, didn´t they? Their record If I die I die is a masterpiece. Produced by Colin Newman from Wire, no less, if you need more validation.

Boredoms—Vision Creation Newsun

I like some of the more comical, early work of Boredoms, but with Super AE and this one they got me. They got serious and spiritual, channeling Alice Coltrane, tribal drumming, kraut rock and noise into a glorious, euphoric sound. Maybe they are not visionaries, but their music can produce visions. I saw them around 2005 (on acid) with the three drummers line up, still in this phase. I remember thinking “this is what cavemen had in mind when they invented music.” I actually saw it, with my eyes closed. Early humans. In caves. Inventing music. God bless LSD.

Aphrodite´s Child — 666

The one record I bought for the cover only, it cost me 50 cents, best deal of my life. A concept album about the apocalypse. Easy contender for the best psychedelic rock album of all time. Pet Sounds? Get outta here. An absolute masterpiece.

Tim Buckley—Starsailor

Tim Buckley is a mystery. He died too young. How he went from his L.A. folk rock first album to the absolute unique sound of Starsailor and Lorca is impossible to understand and a miracle of music. All six records in between are masterpieces. He was possessed by genius and has the most beautiful voice. I don´t know much about him, but his music put me out there.

Sun Ra—Night Music 1989

Watch this. Space is The Place, indeed.

Pescado Rabioso—Artaud

This guy, Luis Alberto Spinetta, is considered by many to be the most important rock musician in my country. So being an arrogant teenage punk, or whatever, of course that alone was enough to reject him altogether without even thinking. But a couple of years ago I was blown away by a book of poems he published in 1978. Incredibly beautiful, unique and sophisticated poetry. I recently started, too late, to listen to his music. This is one of his most famous and revered records. It´s dedicated to, and inspired by Antonin Artaud, who tried and failed to reach the mystic enlightenment, generating a body of work in the process which is a testament to his spiritual ambition, his radical rejection of the material world and his pain. Spinetta understood this, he said the record was trying to find an answer to Artaud, a way out of it, a way out of the pain. It´s psychedelic music of the highest order. The lyrics are incredible but you can enjoy it even without understanding them.

Dead Can Dance—Dyonisios

I kept forgetting this band exists. This new album is great. I listened to it non-stop during last Winter/Spring. It´s the perfect time because the record is about Dyonisios, so as a soundtrack for the rebirth of Nature it´s perfect. Probably their best work in years. Sublime.

The Fall—“Garden” (Live at the Hacienda, Manchester, UK, 1984)

No list of visionary rock and roll would be complete without Mark E. Smith. Famously he said, “I used to be a psychic but I drank my way out of it.” Indeed, there was a time, between 1978-1990, when he was possessed by something, injecting realism with mysticism, mixing high and low planes, exposing the supernatural forces that hides in the cracks of everyday life. He never talks about hell neither heaven, but rather the way they mix and manifest here on Earth. You’ve got countless of bands using occult/mystic imagery, and you know it´s nice but it´s just a game. You’ve got thousands of bands referencing Burroughs and the cut-up technique, but no one can write as Burroughs did. MES did it. MES wasn´t playing. He was a realist of the augmented reality, he told it like it is, in his fragmented, hallucinatory, unpretentious, visionary prose poetry.

There is a lot in his lyrics that can be read in a mystic, occult way. He left a lot of clues for the ones that can read them. His texts are kaleidoscopic, and they reflect what´s in your mind, really. I think he will be recognized with time as the great experimental writer that he actually was rather than merely an angry Mancunian punk. He had more in common with someone like Iain Sinclair than with any other rock musician. One of my favorite web sites is The Annotated Fall, where fans analyze his lyrics in depth. Pay a visit if you can, I can´t recommended it enough. In many ways, he was too intelligent for rock and roll, and that´s why he was misunderstood, but he didn´t care, he believed in constant work, never explain, never apologize. The Fall took all the best things in rock and roll: Can, Velvet Underground, punk, Captain Beefheart, and pushed it to the next level. Our favorite rock group ever.

Huun Hur Tu — “Prayer”

I tried to stick to Western, modern music but I can´t help including this.

#dusted magazine #listed #tomás nochteff #mueran humanos #visionary music #pharoah sanders #rudimentary peni #nico #coil #lungfish #ghedalia tazartes #om #robert aiki aubrey lowe #charlemagne palestine #virgin prunes #boredoms #aphrodite´s child #tim buckley #sun ra #pescado rabioso #dead can dance #the fall #mark e. smith #huun hur tu

[tangerinetomypurple-ask-blog]

Second Headcanon post: Dave Miller|William Afton (From the “A Scheme of my Design”AU)

Headcanon about Dave’s appearence:

-Dave has silver grey eyes(as William does in the FNAF books), his hair are straight and dark purple in color, he keeps them short so that they don’t end up stuck in the springlocks of the springlock suit he used to have to wore. He is quite pale, in fact he is so pale that his sking could almost look as if it is paper white. He as well as Jack has quite a lot of scars due to some springlocks failures that he managed to survive, in a way.

-He is taller than most of his co-workers(and love to taunt the Phone Guys of most locations he worked at, with it), he seems rather slim, but don’t let that fool you he is quite strong even if his appearences could make you think otherwise.

Headcanons about Dave’s personality and behaviour:

-Dave’s personality is much more similar to the one that William has in the books respect of that of DSaF Dave, he still mantain some of DSaF Dave qualities, though.

-Dave is a genius and a quite impressive engineer, though he is kind of the creative genius so he tends to get easly distract by his own ideas, to complete most of his robots manually so he usually draws the blueprints and let someone else build the robots for him.

-He is a talented entrepreneur, and his silver tongue has got him more funds than what he dreamed to ever have for making his dream real. He founded the Afton Robotics and brought the company from nothingness to being known in all the world, thanks to his revolutionary projects and technologies.

-Dave don’t like Henry Miller very much, to be honest he pretty much hates him. He was, in his youth, tricked and used by the Pink Man and now he resent him so much that he has promised himself that one day he will get that man (but only by name) out of hell so he could send him there again with his own hands. There is basically no-one who Dave hates the most than Henry Miller.

-His dislike of the Phone Guy is in the most part dued to the fact that they don’t follow strictly enough (for him at least) the protocols that he wrote for them. And to add at that he is more than a little creeped out by the fact that they have phones for heads. He actually suggested the thing to the Fazbear Entertainment inc’s CEO as a joke, never thought they could have actually do it.

-Dave can seem one of the most carefree guys, one could meet, he is not actually that carefree or as honest as some (Phone Guys mostly) thinks he is. But he loves to wear that mask as he feel almost relaxing the fact that he has not to hide a lot of his true self when he acts as ‘carefree Dave’.

-He is almost fearless, seeing that he is already dead and now immortal and so has not to worry about human’s fragilities anymore. Though ghosts still scare him, because they are untouchable and he can’t defend himself from them for this reason.

-He is a very possessive, obsessive man in almost every aspect of his life.

-He is a very light sleeper and he’s a little insomniac, he usually has to take some sleeping pills to actually fall asleep and to sleep for more than one or two hours at night.

-Dave had a family of his own(such as William in the FNAF lore) but he lost it, and don’t usually like to talk about them. (He loved his family and his children were the light of his life… now whenever he thinks about them he can only see blood and hear screams)

Headcanons about Dave’s relationship with Jack:

-He is obsessed with Jack(even more than how much he is in canon DSaF lore)

-He told Jack his real name and a bit of his personal story because he trusts him with al the heart he doesn’t have anymore but still feels. As such he now knows that Old Sport’s real name is: Jack Kennedy. He still don’t know why that name feels almost as if he knew it before.

-Dave loves his Old Sport and is certain of it but still he has not done any move because he thinks that Jack don’t feel the same and he don’t want to ruin that beautiful close friendship they have.

-He feels like he could kill anyone Jack’s told him to kill, and to protect him he would arrive as far as in slash, kill and disembowel anything that would disturb, or be foolish enoguh to hurt, his Old Sport.

Headcanons about DaveTrap:

-Dave was forced into the faulty springlock suit by Marionette and the other souls of the children that he and Jack killed. His death was slow and painful and he actually begged the ghosts to snap his neck or bash his head so he could not feel anything anymore.

-Even after his death and possession of the suit he can still feel pain, and in thirty years it hasn’t lessened his grip by nothing.

-Due to his immortality he is still pretty much ‘alive’ inside the suit, and his body keeps healing non-stop around the metal bits embedded in his flesh that rips open every times he does something even as little as breathe.

-Even if he is actually alive, his always bleeding, always reopening wounds have attracted a fair amounts of kinds of bugs to him. He can feel their little armored feet thrashing and moving inside his own flesh and feel their little clawed mouth chew bits of him. He will never admit it but this is something he wouldn’t wish to anyone else to bear, and sometimes he wishes to just die so he could stop feeling and hearing all of those disgusting little creatures.

-Dave has become increasingly more aggressive as time passed with him still caged in that springlock ‘iron maiden’ of his.

-During the time he passed trapped in the safe Room, he started imagining things that he would have done has soon as he was freed from there. His ‘daydreams’ usually revolved around Jack coming to rescue him and than they living an immortal life together.

-He is now deathly afraid of maggots, after he almost lost one of his eyes to them. He still screams even if he saw a glimps of a white twisting, pulsating thing that is even only barely similar to a maggot.

(That’s all I got for now… wow it got really dark and sad in the end. Hope none of you is afraid of bugs(I actually am so it’s a lot harder for me to even  imagine how Dave feel in such situations without feeling sick myself… but well atleast the feelings to withness such thing are a lot easier to write…))

#headcanon #dayshift at freddy's #dsaf #dsaf dave #dsaf old sport #dsaf jack #ooc post #ooc #a scheme of my design AU #davesport #warning disturbing imageries #warning bugs

[duskisnigh]

I love your "Off the Pedestal" comic because it shows only one aspect of their living together. I like seeing Victuuri have their little domestic moments, any couple will have them. It's when creators make domestic arguments the main highlight of their relationship and they turn Victor into some airhead or make him completely incompetent that I get annoyed. I hope your comic gets a lot of notes because I feel like a lot of the fandom needs to see it!

Thank you, that’s sweet of you! 

I didn’t create that comic to make a point, since this idea has actually been sitting on my to-draw list for over 1.5 months now, but I posted it fully aware of the recent tension in the fandom surrounding Victor’s depiction in art/fics/headcanons, and also more specifically, the contention over “dishcourse”. I was unsure about  addressing the matter before, but since you’ve brought some of it up, I’d like to take this opportunity to voice my thoughts on it in this post, and I hope you don’t mind.

(Please note that when I use “you” in the following text, I’m actually addressing people of the fandom as a whole.)

I think the phenomenon that allowed this tension to rise was overrepresentation, especially the overrepresentation of a not 100% flattering depiction of a beloved character that has many other wonderful facets yet to be explored. There is nothing inherently wrong with a post that pokes fun of a character, or one that derives humour from two characters in a heated argument where one ultimately loses. It is when we keep seeing the same kind of representation we become convinced that the fandom is only interested a specific kind of character/relationship depiction.

I think it’s important to remember that each creator in the fandom jumping on the bandwagon and making a single post about a popular joke (as is their right) at Victor’s expense is enough to create the illusion that the fandom is entirely and continuously obsessed with painting Victor as an incompetent airhead. The accumulation of posts with Yuuri sassing Victor probably also makes Yuuri out to be quite a horrid fiancé…despite the fact that these posts were probably individually created out of great fondness for both characters and their relationship. A while ago there were a few compilations of instances where Victor was quite savage towards Yuri/Yuuri in canon (often hitting where Yuuri has low self-esteem), but nobody would interpret that as the OP wanting to depict Victor as a generally mean person. We don’t read the comics/headcanons about “I don’t feel like it kissing it if it’s not gold” and think Victor is being emotionally manipulative (because he’s not; Victor knows in that situation what he says will not affect Yuuri’s certainty of his love for him) …until we think there are too many of them, and Victor making Yuuri feel bad about his silver is all we see. 

I truly believe this depiction of Victor and focus on arguments are trends that will change with time. I don’t think creators who write/draw them having arguments think that it’s the only aspect of the relationship worth exploring; it just happens to be popular right now. These very same creators have drawn/written lots of content about Victor and Yuuri being loving dorks, or Yuuri being the butt of the joke before, and they will continue to do so. In fact, the two of them being disgustingly and happily in love is something that has a lot of creations about and never seems to feel “overrepresented”. Admittedly, some trends - like the two discussed - stick longer than others, and it’s understandable. People find depictions of arguments in relationships relatable, and enjoy the assurance that no matter how bad an argument gets, Yuuri and Victor will not stop loving each other. People also find humanizing characters first presented as god-like extremely satisfying, and go to extremes in doing so: the more invincible and untouchable a character is initially depicted to be, the more the audience is determined to make him out to be a clueless idiot. This is also a beloved trope in anime: genius character is completely useless/incompetent in what they don’t specialize in, which is everything else.

In the end, when it comes to enjoying the character/ship, the interpretation “Victor can’t do chores to save his life because he neglected every aspect of his life outside of skating for 20 years″ is as valid as “Victor does all the chores regularly because living alone has made him responsible”, which is just as valid as “Victor knows how to do chores well, but because he is human, he’s lazy about them, and living alone has previously allowed him to get away with letting the dishes pile up and washing only the minimum amount of utensils needed for each meal, but now he has a fiancé to share the dishes with so his lifestyle needs adjusting”. There is no right way to have fun with a ship/character.  Some people might be new and find the popular joke funny and want to contribute to it when you are already tired of it. Some people might just enjoy the joke longer.

What we can do when we feel like something is overrepresented is to encourage the representation of something else. If you are a creator, draw/write something with a different focus, a different interpretation. If you’re not comfortable with making art/fic/headcanon posts, go around the fandom and talk about it. And perhaps, if your new focus relates to social justice, go to the creators, explain why this new focus is important, and (very) gently ask if they would explore a bit of it in their work. 

This is just my view on the matter. I am not, in any way, trying to force this view on the fandom, but I’ll be super happy to discuss it.

Oh and, I’m sorry, viktorniliforv, that you paid me a super nice compliment and I sort of sprung this rant on you. Your message means a lot to me and I write all of this with the utmost respect. 

#viktorniliforv

[tdcloud]

I have sold my soul to this book series

How do I begin to review something that has impacted my life so much?

If I could only read one book series for the rest of eternity, it would be this one. I’d re-read it until I know every page word for word and then I would read it again and again, I could never get tired of this book.

Brontide is a book like no other, coming from a person who devours and studies books for a living, Brontide has easily made its way to my favourite book of ever. Of all time. If you love LGBT+ romance and are into fae or gaelic lore, this is the book for you. (If this review could just be loud screaming it would accurately describe how much I love it.)

The narration is wonderful and engaging in such a way that you feel exactly how the characters feel at any given time, almost as if you can taste the food described, the feeling of the clothing worn and the racing heartbeats in your own ear. Brontide is written in a way that it draws the reader in instantly and you soon find yourself lost in the world below the Earth. The imagery is ethereal and paired with the absolutely stunning illustrations, you can really get a feel of the environment and scenery. I find myself wondering how cool the ground would feel against bare feet, the feeling of bark entwined with the walls, the sights of the throne room, grand and extravagant just as written within the pages, and how each character would stand out against the scenery.

But oh the characters !! The characters are all unique and otherworldly - I’m always swept away by their appearances and personalities, wondering each and every thought they might have had, what possessed them to do such an action? What made this character the way they are? How sharp are their lovely teeth? What kind of past does the protagonist have and will we find out? So many questions, so much material to read into, analyse and devour.

I adore the protagonists just as much as I adore the antagonist and minor characters, each lovable and charming (and deadly in one or two cases) in their own way with their own defining features and personality traits that makes them relatable but also untouchable and mystical. I could write pages and pages on each character, listing my favourite details about them and how well they are written, each interaction with a new character leaves me breathless and I have the urge to know more and more about them all.

I’ve read Brontide around five times now and each time I encounter something new - a sense of foreshadowing in dialogue I had yet to pick up on, or a certain specific detail of a character that I hadn’t considered before. I’ve come up with countless of theories and ideas of what the sequel will entail and I eagerly await to see what will or won’t happen. On each read through Im taken aback by the imagery and the tone set in each chapter, each paragraph bringing something new that I hadn’t thought about yet, or strengthening a theory or opinion I had of a character or plot point.

The lore is incredibly well thought out and has its own unique qualities to traditional fae lore. T.D. Cloud’s lore of the two courts and their construction is so interesting to me and I’ve re-read that particular scene a few dozen times trying to find hints as to what may unfold in the future or what we may learn in the upcoming books. I’ve studied various lore to try and find similarities and inspirations for the lore in Brontide and I’m eager to see how the lore develops in the rest of the Tempest Series.

There are times when this book has made me speechless, times where I want to shake the author by the shoulders and demand to know every genius thought and process that went into writing this masterpiece. A particular scene in chapter 12 left me breathless in all the right (and wrong~) ways, the noise I made was inhuman and I then proceeded to battle through my tears determined to read more and more. Brontide made me cry upon receiving the book, completely overwhelmed at how amazing the writing and illustrations are, and its a book that continues to make me cry - both out of amazement and heartbreak for the characters. I cant cant how many times I’ve cried over this book, it takes me on a rollercoaster of emotions each read through and I cant get enough. Brontide is a gateway drug.

Despite the tears I’ve shed, Brontide is one the most thrilling books I’ve read, you will cry along with the characters but also laugh and smile with them. I fell in love with the characters as they fell in love with each other - something which many romance novels fail to achieve, capturing the readers heart as well as the protagonist - yet Brontide achieved this with ease. I find myself dreaming about the characters, the two courts and the ethereal imagery presented in Brontide. Its always in my thoughts in one way or another and I am becoming obsessed with the characters. This book is entwined with my soul and I have no idea where I would be without it.

Overall, Brontide has made me feel things no book has ever made me feel before. Nothing has quite grabbed my attention and delved deep into my mind, soul and heart and essentially become a part of me. I could not think more highly of this book, but I know the sequels will amaze me even more than the first. I am so excited to read the next instalment of the series, to cry over the characters and devour more and more wonderful plot, lore and imagery, and stare in awe at the fantastic illustrations presented in each chapter.

T.D. Cloud has created something so wonderful and ethereal, its almost unreal how magical the book reads. Combined with AmbiSun’s flawless illustrations (I would frame each one if I could), Brontide is the greatest book I have ever experienced. And I know with the upcoming sequel Deluge, I will fall more and more in love with this series.

#review #brontide #fear-the-queers #;-; nana omfg #youre so kind #submission

[lethe-distillery-blog]

Hamartia Part Two

www.lethe-distilley.com

"A reading platform catered to your specific tastes."

Drink Selection

Tasters

Hamartia, Finale

Everything crashed into me so hard that I felt winded. I stood there, shaking, for some time as my brain forced facts into my consciousness that I hadn't wanted to know. The woman, not that it was much consequence to me at the moment, was Queen Amoura. If I could build up to one decisive movement. One push and I could end the war, or if not end it, severely cripple the Gravon forces as King Sirius mourned for his Queen. But that would require a strength I didn't have, and a willingness to give a shit that it was Queen Amoura inside that room, which I also didn't have.

Jawza. Kidnapped. It didn't take a genius to figure out that was who they were talking about, even though they never said his name. I knew the others as intimately as if I had met them face to face. Warret, Citrine, and Vetri. Jawza had gotten his eyes from his mother, she had to be a mess too. I missed a great deal of the conversation as that thought swirled around my head. I kept looking back at the launch site of the Shade, and back to the closed door as if willing something to tell me something, anything. I needed to get my hands on his security footage. Thank the Gods I had access, it was good enough that I doubted I could have cracked it, even with me helping him design it.

Everything inside me screamed, shrieking injustice to an apathetic universe that didn't care that it had just singularly ripped apart my entire world and taken the single greatest man I had ever known, that I had the honor, and privilege, of calling him mine. And now, he had been taken from me. That helpless scream turned murderous. Vengence crawling inside my belly with a feral determination. It clawed at my ribs as though seeking an exit, it sought appeasement, it sought revenge, and I was willing to feed it all the blood that I could gorge myself on.

"I just wish that we could find out who V.N. is." The nearly sultry voice of Shadow broke through my building rage. He sounded frustrated as he sighed. "I had to bring in Vetri to even have a hope of cracking his codes and even then, we didn't get anything useful. A lot of it is still encrypted nonsense," my heart stuttered at the thought of his secrets being exposed but I knew that Jawza was good, I had to trust in him, though hearing my initials definitely made my entire body tighten. His family knew me by the alias he had fabricated for me he had said, and his mother was growing impatient about his constantly putting off her meeting his Maeva Simone, Shadow growled and I barely caught "paranoid fucking bastard," growled under his breath. In a louder voice, he continued, reading as if from a script in front of him, but quickly as the words came to me his oddly sultry whisper faded to a more familiar tone. Accented, annunciating each word in a delicate turn of phrase, unconscious of the way he made each word stand on its own, as if used speaking to a crowd.

"V. I know you are going to be the only one that gets to this if what I think is going to happen actually does. There's a traitor in the High Council, I haven't picked out who but I think he has picked me out. I'm in a game of cat and mouse and I have a feeling that if the cat catches the mouse, in this case, the consequences will be most dire. I hesitate to write this for what position this may put you in but it has done wonders finally putting some of my fears down to something as temporary as this note. Who knows, I still may come to my senses and delete this. If I don't and things progress faster than I am aware of, there is a massive strike force I heard about, I don't know where or when yet and I know you travel a lot, but please, but be on guard, I'll let you know as soon as I can. Be safe, for me; I know I'm impossible some days, but I do thank the Goddess every day that you let me call you mine. I see you V.N. Yours in Eternity. Jawza Aludra."

Shadow growled as he finished the words and I was forced back to reality, tears streaming down my cheeks without shame. "I think he was meaning the Wirthow Station, that suicide bomber nearly knocked out the entire station's life support but I don't know, we all know he was getting information." there was a loud thud, as though he slammed his hand down onto a table, I heard the clatter of Jawza's statuary. He was oddly obsessed with them, as if he were afraid information in the electronic space could somehow up and vanish. "I just wish we could find his contact and this V.N. character, according to faint gleanings we can get from Citrine, her son was wholly devoted to a woman by the name of Maeva Simone, who she is worried is frantic but since she has no idea who she is none of us can tell her what happened, or at least that something did happen." He sounded infuriated with their general failings. "I am thinking that V.N. may be an alias," or my real name, I thought in bitter amusement, "according to Citrine he was devoted, didn't even look at other women when he was home."

It was strange having his devotion spoken so candidly without him present but it did bring me pleasure knowing that he didn't deviate when he wasn't in my sight. It still felt like a knife violently twisting inside my gut as I forced myself to listen to their conversation. Pain and anger roaring for different parts of my control. The pain was excruciating, but I would be a coward and a failure to him if I didn't listen and take careful note of everything. They talked about how they were eyeing Sancta Remin as a possible location as it seemed that the Primanea were guarding that location with an effort that was unwarranted for a colonial mining outpost.

Fuck. That meant that they had been searching for Jawza when I had come upon those three dreadnoughts, and stupid me and my patriotism had piqued an interest. Now, with all the facts, it made sense, in that sick, twisting in the gut kind of way. Hell, they had even tried to hail me. I felt horrible. Hurt, sick, and all kinds of angry I worked my way back to my ship, carefully avoiding the timed patrols. My head reeling with all the new information. It spun around so fast and so much that I was getting dizzy from it. I leaned against the hull of Citrine, trying to clear my thoughts as I carefully watched the group of three men go past.

"Ash," the smooth voice of Shadow came over the hanger as he moved towards the back corner where the ASEC that wasn't an ASEC and the Royal Shuttle were landed. "Let me aboard." There was obvious affection in his voice, it was plain even though he tried to hide it. The ASEC's main door opened and the ramp extended to the ground. It was a beautiful ship, large and perfectly sculpted, I was woman enough to admit I was jealous. And, a few moments later the engines fired and he went out the back entrance before being lost from my sight as he went skyward. I waited for a few more minutes, satisfied that Boris and Queen Amoura weren't coming for a bit longer I flew into the cockpit of Citrine and launched without doing preflights. Stupid, but I wasn't sticking around to get caught. I had a feeling that they wouldn't be so eager to learn who V.N. was if I turned up claiming to be she.

I handed control off to the Citrine autopilot as did the ship broke atmosphere without incident, with that small matter settled I sat, staring off into the empty void of space, remarkably still for the turmoil that was going through my head. It felt like everything was going far too quickly, and in slow motion, all at once. Everything in me screamed to go on a blood vengeance, to find Jawza and rip them apart with my bare hands until nothing remained of those that had caused so much pain but bloody chunks for the rodents to pick clean. But that wouldn't solve anything.

I pulled up the media, if anything was to be known anywhere the media was ruthless in their pursuit of it. Frustrated with the dead ends that that led to I tried other venues, there was discussion about the attacks at Sancta Remin and how the Gravon's were mercilessly wiping out each and every one of us, nowhere was safe, not even an out of the way mining colony.

Funny, how not even four spans ago, before I had met Jawza, I would have agreed. But before the war started to spans ago, he had shown the error of my hyper-patriotic standing. He had, not once, ever judged me or condemned me for my thoughts, beliefs, or actions. But instead, he led by example. He brought up things his own government, his own monarchy did, and showed me why he didn't agree with them on a given topic. And he would accept my thoughts, even if, I'll admit to myself now, parts were selfish and deliberately my attempt to feel superior. He would agree where he felt that our system was indeed better. But, over time, he had me thinking too. What was best for the people? The common folk that struggled to put food on the table, the army that even before the war had been stretched to a breaking point. And through him, I learned that I was not invincible, and that too was alright.

Growling in frustration I stood and started pacing and pulled out my link. He answered on the third tone. "Wahid."

"Aye Major," there sounded to be things going on in the background, I felt horrible for interrupting him but he had contacts I didn't. "Are we needed?"

"No," I answered quickly, over the complaints that I heard before they faded as though he had stepped aside and away. "Not yet. Have you managed to dig up any reason why we were attacked so unprovoked on Sancta Remin?"

"Besides the Gravons being a bloodthirsty menace?"

"Yes, besides the general and obvious problem." I felt dirty, lying to pretend that I agreed but I had to play calm and untouched. "You think they would have tried glassing us all into oblivion instead of losing so much. It's not like them to not try and overwhelm by sheer force."

I heard sound, as if Wahid was moving even further, his voice, though still bland, was barely discernable. "Alhi," his brother if I remembered right, "said that they performed an extraction." Holy shit, so it was true.

"Where are they being held?" My voice sounded breathless even to me. "Is that why we were attacked so continually?"

He sounded hesitant, "Yes and no." He actually paused, "He is being held closer to homeworld than that, viewed as extremely valuable."

I knew better than to press for any more details, I had a feeling that if I hadn't fought and bled with him for the last month and stood by his side that I would have even gotten that much. "Thank you Wahid, I wanted to know to serve The Conclave." Signing off with him I sat down hard, shaking, fear and fury battling for supremacy. It was only now that reality started sinking in. Here I was, considering grand treason. For Jawza.

Why wouldn't I? Fury followed my wallowing self-pity, igniting it to self-indignant rage. How could I take the gift that Jawza had given me; his love, his own acts of treason by letting me know of all the attacks he had either helped me avoid or push back against. How could I even think of my own self-pity in the here and now when I knew that Jawza needed me. I would never be that selfish of a creature. "Set course for Delta Mine 1034." I would shower, nap, swap ships from this Gravon vessel, and then. It would begin.

I had spared no resource in my locating of Jawza. It had been both easier than I had thought and vastly more complicated. As a rule, Primanease didn't resort to trickery. We were an abrasive up front sort of people, if you didn't like someone you let him know, if you wanted him dead, you shot him. This kidnapping was highly unusual and made me wonder how little I didn't know about the way The Conclave worked. I had little skills in the catspaw shadow dance of espionage which is what made it all so difficult, I could use my preferred M.O. and simply start killing people until someone talked. That, I had some strange notion, wouldn't go well.

It had been a simple matter of homework once I had come aboard the Hematite, my own vessel, a fighter about the same size as Citrine but a Tria Prima vessel. Back safely once I was safely ensconced in Primaen held space I started sifting through military grade files I was given access to and pulled up Jawza's security footage. It was indeed a Shade Vessel, I'm not sure why that stuck with me so much, maybe because that Shadow knew of it and I had only barely heard about our recent tech advancement. Even knowing about it, the thing was impressive. A sleek vessel it was barely more than an engine with wings stable enough to launch itself through an atmosphere and be picked up by a larger vessel at some predetermined coordinates.

The entire detail had taken less than ten minutes from landing until the Shade was clear of the scene. I followed Alhi, I assumed it was anyway as there was only one figure, as they moved from room to room with the cameras. There was one in each room, a precaution of mine actually. Modesty had no room in security. It was eerie watching Alhi move, he was so quiet he didn't trip a single sound system and he had a device that ripped through our motion detectors as if they were paper. The only reason I had camera footage of him is that it was a closed circuit system with back door access to the footage. It wasn't general security. Jawza had been in his study, working late, I hated seeing him so tired as he poured over notes, his star charts, government documents. He looked tired, haggard even, he looked positively frustrated. I had zoomed in to see what he was working on, trying to put my mind back nearly a term ago now and I saw the Furbin system and it took me a long moment to realize what he was doing. He kept eyeing two planets, Rasmusa and Hilemah. He was trying to put together where the strike was going to happen so he could warn me. My heart had clenched, my fingers touching his frustrated features, knowing I could do nothing and yet wanting to try and reach him, to ease him.

The guilt of that attack and the resulting counter-attack would gut him when he had been trying so hard to keep it from happening. Alhi moved like a rock viper, I had barely seen the door open before he had leaned in, Jawza had spun moving so fast that the camera hadn't fully caught the movement, and even so. He hadn't had a chance. Alhi had shot him point blank with a stun blast straight to the chest. I winced in sympathy. During training we had to get shot with one of those once, even on low power it felt like a ball of needles slamming into your chest and what felt like electricity shooting through your limbs. I didn't even want to know what one at full power and that close of range felt like. Honestly, it was a show of Jawza's strength that he had even survived that. Alhi threw him easily up and over a shoulder, gave the room a cursory once over but it was impossible to tell anything from within the helmet of his black tinted battle suit. Two minutes, ten seconds later they were aboard the Shade, and within a massive plume of smoke and fire, they were gone and out of the atmosphere in just under the ten minute mark.

The heavily redacted documents I was able to pull up were slightly more help, more or less confirming the kidnapping if not in so many words. It had taken a few well placed phone calls here and there to people that I knew owed me a favor and asking about it did I finally get a break. I winged in over Jera. It was a planet that we used mostly for government work, the entire thing was more or less a city with grand towers that stretched from surface and up into the atmosphere, giving it a strange look from a distance, as though it were spined. I avoided docking at one of the space elevators. Though easier, and quicker likely, I would have no luck in bringing Jawza up one, provided I even found my man here. The planet was huge. All I had was the recollection that someone said that they had seen a Gravon here. It wasn't much, but at this moment, it was all I had. I was proud of myself though, I had worked through several shadow connections to give Queen Amoura some information as well. Not that it was much, but I gave her what I could and files of his security footage, I had signed it under V.N. hoping that the curiosity of that alone would pique their curiosity enough that they would look at it. Any help for Jawza was more than welcome.

I worked my way through a bossy comm center and was finally allowed to get landing clearance at a bay not a long walk from where my sole key had lead me. I moved slowly about the roads, watching everything around me with a subtlety I hated. I hated feeling like this, like I was eyeing everyone as the threat, what if they were one of the monsters. There were innocent people in the world too, and I much preferred living in my state of ignorant bliss than this nightmare of maybe getting caught. How did Jawza survive? Easy. Actually. All it took was one thought of him, one thought of what they could be doing to him right now and I knew that I would live this way for the rest of my life if I had to. I would protect him, with everything I had.

Thinking ahead I went and bought some clothes for Jawza to fit into, I highly doubted that they had left him with any, besides, even if they did, our fashion styled differed enough that he would be picked out instantly. I picked the most basic and standard as I could find and hoped they would fit him enough for us to get out of here. Ignoring the strange look the cashier gave me I headed off to the corner of Brand and Lesil, there, I would either find my hope or be damned for eternity.

It was an unremarkable corner, nothing terribly different than all the others. There was a massive, low, white, concrete building on the left of a bomb shelter, on the right was a small strip mall of snacks and small businesses that catered to the live in work rats that called Jera home. It was a sad state of affairs but it wasn't unusual. A government had to keep functioning somehow, and this was the crux of it. Any police complaint, college application, or tax receipt made its way through here at some time or another. It was massive, overpopulated, and not at all where I would want to store a prisoner, but I also admitted to myself, what would I know about such things.

"Excuse me." I froze at the sound that sounded familiar, my hand tightening around the butt of my holstered blaster and turned slowly and saw a familiar face. Shadow. Except he looked different. His eyes glowed the same hue of red as ours, his hair was longer, and he wore a rather drab looking suit that made him appear like one of the drudges that called this dismal planet home. "Do I know you?" His eyes sparked, he knew me, but wouldn't admit it out loud.

I made a split second decision, I could regret it later, Jawza needed all the help I could manage for him. If I ended up captured or dead as a result didn't matter anymore, only him. "I saw you, I didn't think I had been that noticeable."

"I could never forget a beautiful crying face like yours." He motioned me over to a small patch of greenery. It was still busy but less crowded than the street, small patches of sanctuary like this one a planet dominated by cityscape were no doubt always busy. Without warning, he turned, eyes flashing a dire warning as he faced me, arms crossed, brave move for a creature of his size. "Who are you?" He glared at me, jaw set, I could see his fingers twitch as though he wanted a blaster but knew better. I could relate.

"You already know the answer to that." Or he better or he was wasting my time here and if I decided to leave, there was nothing he could do about it.

"V.N." The initials were spoken in a tone I was surprised didn't leave me with frostbite.

"One of two names I go by, though unlike your prediction, it is my true name."

He sighed, heavily, hands tightening into fists before he looked at me. "How can I trust you?"

"How can I trust you?"

To my shock, he laughed. It was a deep rich, belly laugh that made everyone look at us. We weren't exactly known to be that outgoing with our emotions. "Good point." He smiled at me, there was still mistrust, but he extended a hand. "Shadow." I took it, "Though you likely already knew that."

I nodded, "Major Nawra," I needed to trust him or Jawza could be hurt worse by mistrust, I let out a long shaky breath as I revealed myself to him, though with some digging he likely could have found out about me anyway. "Vega Nawra."

[pinelife3]

Montezuma 2EEE

This is MF DOOM on the Jake One track 'Get 'Er Done':

Make no mistake son, it's Jake One, he makes beats well like I likes my steaks done with sauteed onions and hella worcestershire, a gush of beer to wash it down.

First of all, whew that internal rhyme! Worcestershire//gush of beer. Yes! I feel like only MF DOOM can do this shit. I read a really interesting write up on MF DOOM from Ta-Nehisi Coates recently. Coates seems like the nicest guy ever - he's so smart but also completely unpretentious. He writes for Marvel and The New Yorker and seems to easily move between those worlds. (I was in a comic book shop today and feeling kind of out of place but the bald, bearded goth guy behind the counter was super nice, and declared the book I put on the counter an “awesome read” and then he recommended some other stuff to me as well. This is a wildly irrelevant anecdote - was just thinking about comics.) Anyway, Coates talks about DOOM, but also his own experience as a hip hop fan:

I kept the assembled works of Wu-Tang Clan on repeat and stewed, convinced that somewhere around 1998 hip-hop had run out of things to say. I was not alone. Disaffected music fans began to refer to the halcyon days of the eighties and nineties—when every rapper had a d.j., and label owners didn’t vamp in videos, confusing themselves with artists—as “the Golden Era.”

We were the kind of fundamentalists that haunt every genre of popular music. By the end of the nineties, we had started seeking a sound that offered something other than guns, girls, and drugs. Some of us found neo-soul. Others got lost in our parents’ jazz records. And still others were radicalized and turned to U2 and Björk.

Not to be picky, but I feel like Wu-Tang talks about guns, girls and drugs plenty. But they also talk about the Shaolin, martial arts and poverty and I guess that's the difference. Anyway, I never knew why DOOM wore the mask, but he says:

I wanted to get onstage and orate, without people thinking about the normal things people think about. Like girls being like, ‘Oh, he’s sexy,’ or ‘I don’t want him, he’s ugly,’ and then other dudes sizing you up. A visual always brings a first impression. But if there’s going to be a first impression I might as well use it to control the story. So why not do something like throw a mask on?

Huh. This other musician I like, Brock Berrigan (he makes really nice beats -you should check him out), always wears a chicken head mask - possibly for reasons similar to DOOM's. For me, that reasoning doesn't check out though, because aren't people obsessed with unmasking? I guess if nothing else it creates an iconic image around your act without that having to literally be your face the way it is with most other artists. ANYWAY, I guess lyrics don't need to be technically amazing like DOOM's to be entertaining - this dude Open Mike Eagle has some good lines. From his track "Ziggy Starfish (Anxiety Raps)":

I log into my Twitter page And start bending over like Gollum This dumb cred is like crack rock And I never seem to hit bottom

Sweet Gollum reference - I had to look this one up. The "bending over" kind of threw me: I thought he was maybe saying something about hoes on social media but then why would he be bending over? Then I thought maybe he was saying he was gay and hoeing on social media himself but it still seems weird to invoke Gollum in that context, right? I like Gollum as much as the next person (i.e. a lot), but I would not be super keen to draw comparisons between his appearance and my own (although we do share the same sickly pallor and blue eyes - plus, I too have spent many years living in a cave). According to Rap Genius (and the line's context - I am truly an idiot for not getting it sooner. Maybe I just wanted it to be something sexual to do with Gollum) he's just saying that he's addicted to Twitter and the praise/attention it affords him, similar to how Gollum is addicted to the ring (and crouching).

From age 18 - 21 I was super into Fleet Foxes (I think they hold up. They're pretty irresistible, right?). They have this song "Montezuma" which finishes like this:

Oh man what I used to be Montezuma to Tripoli Oh man oh my oh me

I guess I'm an idiot because when he sings "Montezuma to Tripoli" I always heard "Montezuma 2 Triple E" and imagined it stylised like this: Montezuma 2EEE. Tripoli obviously makes more sense but it never even occurred to me that he was saying that. I thought he was referring to something mysterious and abstract. (Writing it out like EEE makes it look like a bra cup size. I don't know if they do triple cup sizes (they do!). Even doubles make no sense to me. Okay, so I've quickly Googled it. If you're curious: it turns out that a double or triple letter cup size indicates that the boob being cupped sits somewhere between two cup sizes - so a DDD breast is bigger than a DD breast which is bigger than a D breast, and all of them are smaller than E. That's what this website says anyway. But this whole framework really falls down with the AA cup, because a AA is smaller than an A. It should at least be consistent. I've been wearing bras for years (big shot coming through) and am only now learning about all of this. To be honest, I am incredibly guesstimate-y with my bra shopping: band size is pretty consistent but cup size swings wildly across the alphabet. Should probably get fitted but I feel awkward being fondled by a shop assistant. Plus, it's not like I walk into a bra shop and immediately think that the shop attendants have great breasts - why should I take their advice?) 

Montezuma 2EEE: I imagined some weird website which was techy and totally opaque to me, but also somehow involved Aztec emperors. I kind of want to make a weird, pointless website ("isn't that what this blog is, Kath?") because I have pinelife.net and nothing is happening there - I post all my Pinelife blog posts there too (which I know is a real waste of effort - my time is worth nothing so I don't mind wasting that) but I kind of prefer Wordpress' text editor to Tumblr's so it has that advantage. I found this really weird website (please please check it out) a while ago via the House of Leaves subreddit and found it so intriguing and exciting. I don't know why, but I had this insane rush of adrenaline while I was exploring the website. It was cool. Maybe I should make a weird, labyrinthine, pointless website of my own: it'll have shitty navigation, the font and background will be the same colour, possibly other things will be wrong with it too. It'd be something to do anyway. Maybe instead of making a book object I could make a website object - is that a thing? This might be a good way to waste some (more) of my time anyway. I do kind of want to make something. I’ve been bored with blogging for a while. Or, I don’t know - I enjoy doing it and looking back on my old posts (out of the vault: remember this one about cynicism and church? I was so proud of that. Weirdly, my favourite post from last year is this stupid one about pizza which was really low effort) but I don’t know if there’s anything I’ve written in the last year that I’m that proud of. The year went really fast and I feel like I’ve change a bit (or maybe a lot, I’m not sure). 

Montezuma2eee.com is available. Hmmm. I already have pinelife.net. Is it greedy to want another domain? I doubt Montezuma2eee is going anywhere (but I’d feel like quite the fool if someone did take it from me - I can’t really be the first to think it’s 2EEE - it literally sounds exactly like it). Anyway, I should play around on pinelife.net for a bit before making the $0.99 commitment to a new domain. 

Urgh. I’m an idiot. I nuked pinelife.net and all of the images I’ve uploaded to Wordpress there are gone and I’m lazy and never bothered to upload them to stupid tumblr, I just copied them and now they’re gone. I hate myself. Why didn’t I think for like half a second before deleting everything? Plus, there must be a better way to delete Wordpress beyond FTPing in and trawling through all my folders and deleting anything with a wp prefix. What happens if I just delete everything, like all the folders, and just start from scratch? I’ve forgotten how all this works. (This blog post is a real, rambling steam of consciousness. If I had any editorial credibility I would not publish this thing.)

Hey, talking about me trying to be creative: I was just hunting around my writing folder (basically untouched since 2015) and found this monstrosity I made to mourn the demise of Google Reader (wtf is/was wrong with me?). Jesus I have no memory of making this. Troublingly, I feel very pleased with this thing and its weirdness (obviously if I was genuinely embarrassed I wouldn’t share it here). This would have been 2013.

Also, I won’t post this, but I found an old poem I wrote (lame) in 2012 for uni which is all bullet points and features the word “pre-cum” in the first line. 22 year old me: why?

More? This is the start to a novel I was writing when I was 22/23:

Sirens by the swamp. The river doesn’t move in the summer heat: green carpet of scum across the surface. Two police cruisers are parked on the grass, another blocks the footpath. An officer unfurls yellow tape.

In a local 7/11 the Slurpee machine releases its hold on life and a stickiness of Cola flavoured low calorie slush spills forth. Potato salad is left to putrefy at a hundred backyard barbeques. In a thousand shitty sedans the steering wheel is too hot to hold. In a million armpits sweat prickles through dark hair to find cool air.

The body is partially submerged in the swamp. Obscured by slime and dark water, her hair is tangled in water grass, an eel nuzzles her cheek. From the waist down she is naked, seething with ants and flies. There is a tattoo of a dragon on her hip. If there was a lot of blood it’s now vanished into the mud. Someone has performed a riverside hysterectomy: it was not tidily done.

Sirens by the swamp. Five girls stand in the shade under the bridge: jutting hips, bare feet, iPhones, string bikinis, denim shorts. One pops gum as a police officer asks her preliminary questions. Another discretely photographs the crime scene with her phone. Their families are not expecting them for lunch. It’s Werribee and it’s Christmas day.

****

ppl made a new word for wh@ happened. they said th@ she had been uncunted. 2 b fair it was pretty bad nd even sum of tha sirens said they thought a line had been crossd. dead girl wasn’t even from werribee. actually th@s probably why she was dumb enough 2 go down by tha river

the thing th@ made me haha was th@ channel 10 made such a big deal about her being found by tha sirens b/c theyre young girls and tha news ppl tried to make out like its not a safe town 4 girls nd like girls shouldnt go out alone nd they tried to use tha sirens as an eg of young women in peril. but it was like oh man have u got it wrong. those river girls are bad

honestly werribee is fine so long as ur not fool enouf 2 go down by tha river. th@ is the ao for sirens nd eeeeevery1 nos not to go their less they want they dick sucked nd there future ruined. haha 4 real the news crews + police r lucky they didnt get uncunted 2

#MF DOOM #Jake One #Ta-Nehisi Coates #Gollum #Google Reader #Fleet Foxes #open mike eagle #Brock Berrigan