#but i am going through each track on genius and i am like. WHY IS JAMES BASICALLY ON EVERY TRACK

[louhearted]

i just now realised that SEVERAL songs from faith in the future are co-written/co-produced by James Vincent McMorrow and i am. jesus christ. of course this album is a masterpiece!!! Louis and James Vincent McMorrow working together?????

#i am. going THROUGH IT LADS #did we know this before the release??? like did i blank on that completely??? #PROBABLY #but i am going through each track on genius and i am like. WHY IS JAMES BASICALLY ON EVERY TRACK #WHY AM I SO HAPPY #i swear to god if we knew before and i just didnt realise i will be so mad at past me dklgfh #faith in the future #louis #james vincent mcmorrow

[daceydeath]

Hi! I just recent found your page! I was wondering if you could do a story where y/n sprained her ankle during dance practice and how the boys take care of her. Scold her a bit too? Lol thank you 😊

Hi, I am glad you found me 🥰 I can absolutely write something like that for you, I just hope you like it and I don't disappoint. DaceyDeath xx

When you Fall and Hurt Yourself While Dancing - Hyung Line

Word Count: 3.1K Genre: Fluff, Angst Warnings: Swearing, injuries (obviously) Requested

Maknae line can be found here

Chan You had dropped by JYP to have lunch with Chan, he had been so busy over the past week that you knew it was going to take every spare moment you could squeeze out to see each other. As usual he was in his studio on a work call so you wandered over to the dance space to visit the others. Opening the door you were confronted with chaos, like usual really, Minho was monitoring how Innie was dancing while Seungmin and Hyunjin dicked about to annoy Changbin.

"Hi noona" Felix called excitedly skidding over to give you a hug.

"Is he still on a call?" Han laughed as you sat yourself down against the wall to watch them practice while you sipped from your water bottle. After a little while they all got back to seriously practicing blocking out the choreography for the new song that would be to title track for the new album.

"We can't get anymore done until Chan gets back" Minho sighed looking disappointed as he glared at the door in the mirror.

"Why not" you asked tilting you head confused.

"It's really hard to start the choreography practice if we don't have where each of us will be for the start point, we can't get the spacing right otherwise" Minho explained as you nodded along.

"Why don't you just have someone stand in for Chan?" you asked like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"We would need someone who isn't doing anything else for an unknown amount of time no one is just sitting around doing nothing" Hyunjin added frowning deeply as Felix laughed loudly and ran across the room to you.

"What is so funny?" Han asked looking at Felix as he took your hand and pulled you to your feet.

"Who else is sitting around waiting for Chan?" Felix asked bringing you to stand beside Changbin where Chan would be for at least the start of the choreography.

"Genius" Minho grinned turning back to the mirror as he started to instruct each of them what they were doing. You had no idea how long you had just been moving where ever Minho instructed you to, or at what point you started following along with the choreography but once the run through had happened half a dozen times you were following along just fine until Changbin went right instead of left and took you out.

"Fucking shitting hell" you groaned in real pain after you had gotten tangled with Changbin and ended up on the floor. "Bin you're heavy get off".

"Yah I'm sorry" he yelped getting up quickly as the others watched in amusement before noticing your face was actually screwed up in pain.

"You were meant to go left not right" you whimpered as he pulled you up making Minho cut the music to help you.

"Shit you're actually hurt" he gulped looking slightly alarmed.

"It's just my ankle and I have two" you tried joking and Changbin helped you limp to the couch to sit. "Just don't tell Channie".

Chan came back a few minutes later and was thrilled to see how far they had gotten without him and after another hour of practice they finished up. Still in pain from when you fell you didn't get straight up to kiss Chan or mention lunch instead trying to hide your grimace when Han flopped down next to you.

"Baby what happened? Are you ok?" he instantly caught your expression and tensed up.

"I had a tiny accident while I was waiting for you. It's nothing just my ankle is a little sore" you explained vaguely attempting to get up and put all your weight on your other foot.

"What tiny accident?" he narrowed his eyes looking at you suspiciously

"I fell over dancing" you admitted sheepishly biting your lip.

"I have told you dozens of time the boys mess around too much and you will get hurt" he scolded you halfheartedly swinging you into his arms "You aren't a professional baby girl"

"I'm sorry Channie, I was only trying to help with blocking out your spot while the guys practiced and I was helping before I got taken out" you pouted.

"You're lucky you're cute baby" He sighed kissing your forehead.

"Chan" you squealed as he made for the door the others following behind the pair of you.

"We are going to get this checked out, then you are going to tell me which one of them took you out" He grumbled although you could tell he meant it softer.

"I'm no snitch Christopher Bang" you snipped making him chuckle.

Lee Know In order to hone his ability to choreograph different styles and types of dances you had agreed that, even though you were not a very good dancer, you would help your boyfriend out. He had been thinking up how to choreograph a couples dance for weeks now and once he had inspiration you were going to be going to the studio to learn and practice it.

It was currently 4 am and you had been practicing for three hours now, not that you were going to complain this was his passion and you would do anything to support him. You had nothing to do the next day so you could sleep then, suppressing a yawn you got back into your starting position.

"Did you want to try it with the heels now kitten?" he asked softly looking at you with excited eyes.

"Of course love" you smiled tiredly going over to sit and change into the pretty heels that he had asked to wear when he filmed the final product, he had been very specific about the look of what he was going for you after slipping into the new shoes you took your place back beside him on the floor.

"Alright from the top. Five, six, seven eight" He counted the pain of you in and you started the first one was a little more difficult with the heels instead of sneakers but you managed not to fall on your butt.

"You did that really well kitten, do you want to try it one more time and we will go home?" he asked his grin bright as he panted slightly the sweat gleaming on his forehead. Nodding you returned to your start point even though your feet hurt and you were tired one more wouldn't hurt to make him happy. He spun you one last time moving to go into the final chorus when his foot knocked the heel you were still holding all your weight on making you crumple like a house of cards, your ankle rolling in the process. You shrieked loudly as you landed the pain in your ankle obvious before you even moved.

"Kitten???" he shouted loudly as he ran to turn the music off and then help you up. You were slipping the shoes from your feet when you noticed your ankle was already slightly swollen.

"My ankle" you whimpered sniffling a little.

"Oh shit, kitten I'm sorry I will get you some ice and I will take you to the hospital" he mumbled seeming quite lost. "I can't believe I hurt you so badly, I'm so sorry kitten". His face was pained as he looked at you tears starting to pool in his lashes.

"You didn't hurt me it was an accident" you sniffed "I'm sorry I stuffed your choreography up" you took one of his hands in yours squeezing it.

"Don't be silly kitten you're more important than a stupid dance" he huffed as he helped you hop to the couch before texting Chan who was still in his studio to help him get you to the car. You knew Chan was fast but when he burst through the door a good minute or so before Changbin and Han you knew he had properly sprinted from the studio. You were sitting with your leg up on Minho's lap he had strapped ice packs to it to keep the swelling under control.

"Shit" Chan frowned coming over to look at your ankle before clapping his hand on Minho's shoulder squeezing it "This isn't your fault, stop blaming yourself accidents happen".

"We can grab your stuff" Han swatted your hand away from trying to pick up your bag "Minho and Chan will get you to the car".

After being treated like you had broken both your legs and would never walk again, bundled into the car by the two worried looking boys and driven to the hospital where embarrassingly the others all turned up to you were diagnosed with a sprained ankle, not an incurable injury as they were all treating it, making you laugh at Minho for his dramatics about the whole thing.

"I hope you learned a lesson here kitten" Minho scolded lightly "You are never dancing in heels again, ever".

Changbin Changbin had always adored that your were so close to his members, swapping recipes with Minho, join in on the online games with the younger members and, much to everyone's relief the one that now learnt all the TikTok dances with Felix.

You were currently laughing loudly at the over the top version that Minho and Han were dancing to imitate Felix teaching you whatever this stupid one was called. Hyunjin was trying his best to give you tips and pointers on your moves but you had told him the fact that you were a crap dancer added to your mystique making them all crack up again.

"Seriously you aren't that bad a dancer" Hyunjin insisted through his giggles.

"I'm never going to be graceful Hyunjin, I'm not built for grace I'm built for falling on my face" you joked as Felix slid down the wall laughing.

"Ok, ok, we need to get it together so we can get back on track" Chan grinned trying to stop his own laughter.

"One more practice then we will record it and were done" hiccuped Jeongin who had promised to film for you today. Chan nodded as you and Felix got back into your positions and did one last run through you trying not to make a total arse of yourself before you grabbed the two over sized black hoodies and hats that you needed to disguise Felix and yourself for the clip.

"Now I know we didn't practice the jump but I know you can do it I've seen you jump on Binnie before" Felix grinned and you nodded knowing you could do it without too much issue.

"I'm heavier than you think though Felix, you sure you want me to?" you asked cautiously not wanting to seem like you were doubting his strength.

"Yeah should be easy" he reassured you pulling the hat all the way over his face and you grinned in response as you got into position to record. You put more effort into the actual video than you had playing around with Felix and Changbin was proud to see Hyunjin actually look impressed with how you moved your body. You finished up with jumping and wrapping your legs around Felix's waist as the routine needed, Felix catching you easily except he hadn't been expecting you to move with such force so you both moved out of the view of the phone.

"Shit" Felix grunted softly as he tried to maintain his balance, and failing, as you started to drop your legs you both hit the ground hard making the others laugh loudly and Jeongin stop recording.

"Fuck sorry" he chuckled until he moved and you shrieked your ankle popping loudly, he froze watching the tears run down your cheeks freely as the laughter stopped and Changbin was at your side helping Felix to move you off of him and off the floor.

"Baby! Shit I knew you shouldn't be doing stupid shit like this" Changbin yelled his worry over coming him more than anger.

"M'sorry Binnie" you cried as you felt your ankle pop again this time making the pain lessen slightly but not much.

"Changbin, take a breath it was an accident" Chan pushed him to sit beside you as Felix looked at you from across the room where he was being hugged by Hyunjin tears in his own eyes. Swallowing thickly you let Chan and Minho put ice on your ankle as they called their manager to get you to the hospital. Changbin continued holding you his concern obvious to the others.

"I'm so sorry" Felix repeated again and again watching you wince and whimper as they moved you around.

"It's not your fault Felix" you tried to reassure him.

"You shouldn't be doing these sorts of things baby, you could have hurt yourself worse or you could have hurt Felix" he muttered into you hair his voice shaking slightly.

"I'm sorry" you mumbled miserably as their manager came in with the first aid kit to help you bind your ankle before you were moved to a car to go to the hospital.

The manager took you by yourself to the hospital and you texted Felix and Changbin non stop to tell them you were alright, it was your fault and you were sorry, once you were bandaged up properly and given crutches to get around on the manager brought you back to JYP where the others were now almost finished for their day. Limping back in on the crutches they all crowded around you to cuddle you.

"What's the verdict?" Chan asked softly patting your head.

"I dislocated and sprained my ankle" you mumbled "I'll be on crutches for weeks.

Hyunjin You had been seeing Hyunjin in secret, secret from the fans at least, for about six months. Both of you being idols had put a huge amount of pressure to not let either of your fandom know, not because either of you thought your fans wouldn't be happy for you, because the company was happier just not having to deal with any sort of drama at the time. You had agreed to abide by the rules they had set for you both and so far you had managed to keep everything under wraps.

It was the second night of your groups concert and your family and Hyunjin's had made their way into Seoul to see you perform, you had obviously invited Hyunjin and his members too in order to make it less suspicious that he was there and since you shared the same company it wasn't to strange and idea that they would be supporting your group.

The show had been going well, you had performed in your duo units, done all of your crowd pleasing hits and had been interacting with the crowd making you so happy that when the encore stage started and you were all ready for your last song you didn't notice on of the streamers that had gotten caught around one of the fold backs on on the far end of the stage, going into the chorus of the last song you slipped landing hard and almost falling into the wings of the stage where you remained sitting as your ankle throbbed painfully. Your members were quick to notice when you missed your line quickly making their way over to you and cutting the song short as they helped you from the stage.

You told them to start the last song over and apologize on your behalf and, to their credit they did, but not before you hear Hyunjin's voice calling for you down the corridor.

"Go, apologize, I will use the back stage mic to apologize as well" you instructed quickly your leader agreeing and hurrying the others back to the stage.

"Princess?!?" he almost shrieked as he, Chan and Felix made their way into the room.

"Just let me make this announcement first" you swallowed the lump forming in your throat "Hi again Love Bugs, I'm sorry I could not finish the show but lets take it from the top one more time" you cheered hearing the crowd from the stage as the music started once again. The backstage microphone was taken by staff before either of you spoke.

"Princess, I have told you to always look where you are going" Hyunjin scolded lightly "What if you had seriously hurt yourself? you could end your dancing career so easily, then what would you do?".

"She knows that Hyunjinnie no need to be harsh with her" Chan soothed gesturing for Felix to give him a hand wrangling their dramatic member "Can you get your shoe off?"

"I don't know it's really painful" you sniffed your eyes watering as the members and your manager came back in after finishing the final song.

"You still need to be more careful, what if you broke something!" Hyunjin continued as he sighed worryingly.

"I'm sorry Hyunie" you whimpered

"Do you think you could stand for the final photos?" your manager asked carefully noticing how agitated Hyunjin was and how Chan was trying to ease your high top off without hurting you.

"She needs a doctor pretty quickly I would say it's already turning black" Chan interrupted looking at Hyunjin who looked at your leg wide eyed.

"Alright lets get some of the security to get you out of here and to the hospital, obviously your guests will be told and looked after and can meet you at the dorms" you manager nodded organizing two of them to carry you to the car Hyunjin in tow with Chan while Felix went back to the others to update them.

Hyunjin didn't speak to you again until you were sitting in your private room waiting for the x-ray results as Chan kept your members, family and his members updated knowing that Lee Know and Changbin would organize to take both sets of parents for a meal with their remaining members to keep them occupied until you were released.

"I'm sorry I was mean princess" Hyunjin whispered his hand squeezing yours "I just get so scared when you get any type of injury, I know you worked so hard for your dream".

"I know Hyunie" you smiled at him softly squeezing back.

"I'm sorry to have kept you waiting Miss" your doctor bowed walking back into your room "The x-rays are clear so it looks like it is just a sprain so we will wrap it for you and give you some pain relief but you will need to come back in a week for us to examine it again".

"Thank you doctor" Chan thanked him as the nurse who had followed him smiled gently and began strapping your ankle to keep it from swelling further.

"Just ice it continuously and use the medicine and you will be back to dancing in no time" she instructed kindly before also taking her leave.

"Let's get you some dinner the guys aren't far from here with your parents" Chan smiled as Hyunjin quickly leaned in to kiss you softly before helping you up.

"I'll be coming round to help you whenever you need me" he whispered helping you to get the crutches right.

Taglist (open): @christopher-bangnaldoskzz, @armystay89, @damnyouficc, @roamingpolar, @bakedlilgoonie, @krishastumblernow,

#Stray Kids x reader #stray kids reactions #skz reactions #bang chan x reader #lee know x reader #seo changbin x reader #hwang hyunjin x reader #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #stray kids fluff #stray kids requests #skz requests #skz fluff #stray kids fiction #skz fiction

[friendlyengie]

I would love to hear ur hcs about the mercs sleeping habits (including ur OCs ofc)

ive always wanted To draw something for this but ive never had the like. Idea to do it in a way that would land the punchline. But basically on their days off I think Engineer is up until sunrise and Demo sleeps until sunrise and they sometimes catch each other in the middle but otherwise they wont see each other until theyre forced to start waking up at the same time again for work.

Anyways . Specifics. Hm.

Medic- trying to write this out for him I’m torn between “despite the way he is, Medic’s sleep schedule is shockingly consistent” and “he surgically removed the need for sleep out of his brain when joining Mann Co. and now sleep is like a recreational activity for him.” I genuinely think it could go either way.

Sniper- sleeps a solid 8 hours and still manages to pass out standing up during mission briefings. I don’t think his sleep is particularly pleasant, easily startled due to spy anxiety. But during his inappropriately timed naps? He could sleep through the base exploding probably.

Scout- Shockingly well put together morning person if he gets to sleep on time. Usually the second person up after Soldier to go on a morning run and shit. But if his sleep schedule is thrown an hour off track it all goes out the window. Drag his out of bed and he goes right to the couch and back to bed.

Heavy- With the way he lived growing up I could see him really having trouble with sleeping. Not easily startled, but very restless. Type of guy to occasionally have a “Something is Very Wrong” instinct kick in at 3 am and is perfectly aware that trying to get back to bed afterwards is a lost cause, so he’s learned to commit and has a handful of things that he does to pass the time instead.

Engineer- great at giving well thought out advice on why sleep is important, follows it unless he doesn’t. Celebrates his ability to keep himself on a good sleep schedule for a few weeks by letting himself go multiple days with no sleep if he feels like it’ll be “useful” for whatever he’s working on. Started to cap himself off at a 72 hour maximum after a 5-day streak resulted in the genius decision making that went into getting drunk and lobbing off his hand (And then remembering he probably should’ve had Medic around, or a proper gunslinger prototype built before doing so.)

Pyro- probably sleeps but always seems strangely and immediately attentive if you go to wake them up.

Demoman- respects his sleep schedule and expects you to as well. Fuck your all nighters, he knows how comfortable his bed is and he’s taking it. Hours vary depending on how much he’s been drinking, which will also determine how well he participates in the “guy who can just kind of fall asleep anywhere” club.

Spy- I feel like the only thing worse than sleep paranoia about spies is being a Spy trying to have a proper sleep schedule. Less as a result of his current job and more as a result of the many jobs hes taken in the past, I’d think Spy’s developed serious paranoia to letting his guard down in most regards, sleep included. Smoking supposedly “helped” the issue way in the beginning, most definitely just exasperates the issue now. Usually walks around the base with clear intent as to not be heard by anyone, so he’s probably got most of them convinced he sleeps pretty routinely.

Soldier- Consistently, on the dot, like clockwork. Not always the first to bed, but always the first to wake up. Wouldn’t wake up if you launched a bomb through his window but if you tried to gently nudge him to wake him up he would attack you like an enemy combatant and now you have to fight him and win.

#Dont have any specific thoughts on my ocs atm but I appreciate the thought :) #tf2 #Asks

[arkhamknightz]

DELICATE

summary: after an ongoing online scandal, you come out with a new album. during an interview, you talk about your inspo :)

warnings: this fic is an excuse to write this fic again that i made for joe since i wrote it months ago and for evan instead with reputation since i think its one of the best albums ever made! link to actual genius article for everyone :)

GENUIS!

“Three years after the release of their 2014 album, and following several public spats with celebrities, Y/N Y/L/N aims to clear their name and inaccurate public image on Reputation. At a fan event that took place in June 2018, Y/L/N described the record as a story of “finding love throughout all the noise,” referring to how the album transitions from discussing her persona to falling in love with American actor Evan Peters.”

*VIDEO STARTS*

“Is this thing on?” you looked at the camera crew and laughed as they held up a thumbs up. “Hi! Im Y/N Y/L/N, I’m here with Genius and I’m here to talk about my new album, reputation.” you smiled at the camera. Evan, sitting alongside the crew, read out the cards they had handed him. “So, how many tracks are on the album?” he asked. “Well, theres fifteen tracks” “Can you list them out for us?” he smiled warmly.

“The album starts off with Ready For It, End Game featuring Ed Sheeran and Future, I Did Something Bad, Don’t Blame Me, Delicate, Look What You Made Me Do, So It Goes, Gorgeous, King Of My Heart, Dancing With Our Hands Tied, Dress, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Call It What You Want, and the album ends with New Years Day.” Evan softly smiled, reading off the next card. “Is there anything you can tell us about each track?”

You laughed softly, “So, Ready for it is pretty much just diving into what the rest of the albums gonna be like, referencing past songs, kinda lightly digging into the whole situations thats been happening for a while.” you quickly moved onto the next track.

“End Game is just about my reputation and how this effected my outside relationships. I did something bad is pretty much about the same thing, but its a more direct approach.” You took a glance over at Evan, a small smile painted across his face as you carefully explained each track.

"Delicate is about my current relationship, as is Don't Blame Me, I'd definitely say it's one of my more vulnerable tracks." You smiled at Evan, who was already smiling as you started explaining. "My reputation wasn't the best when we first met, which obviously lead to me questioning a lot of it at the start. I didn't think someone could love me in the way he does after everything was going down, it felt like the whole internet was against me but he loved me for who I am and not who I was painted out to be."

As you finished going through each track Evan's smile only grew wider. "What's your favourite track off the album?" You clapped excitedly before speaking. "That's a really hard one but right now I'd have to say either New Year's Day or Dress, both songs are special in terms of relationships." "Do you have a favorite lyric from them?"

You nodded, "For Dress I'd have to say the bridge-" You watched as Evan looked down and smiled before looking back up at you. "Because it really touches on another vulnerable thought I had for a long time. He saw the best in me in my worst time. And for New Years Day probably the bridge as-well for the same reason.

Evan carried on the interview, you wandered questions about the album before closing off. "Well, I'm Y/N Y/L/N and this was my genius interview! Make sure to listen to Reputation on all platforms." You waved at the camera with a small smile on your face before they cut.

You stood up from your chair as the crew around you started speaking. You walked over to Evan who had put the cards down and opened his arms for you to walk into. You wrapped your arms around him as he gently kissed your forehead. "So I'm your muse hmm?" You let out a laugh and nodded before gently kissing him letting out a soft 'mmhm' You looked at him before slightly tearing up. "Thank you for loving me" He smiled softly before tightening his grip on your waist, "I'll love you for the rest of my life."

A/N: hi friends! I decided to finish this because after hearing delicate live and seeing this in my drafts I needed to finish this so badly.. live laugh love taylor swift!

#Evan Peters x reader #Evan Peters x singer!reader #evan peters x you #evan peters x y/n #Evan Peters #american horror story #quicksilver x reader #tate langdon x reader #ahs x reader #American horror story x reader #Evan Peters x gn!reader

[urmoneymysummer]

When I first listened to Vice Grip, I was shell-shocked. Jaw to the floor in complete awe. Not because it was good. It was the worst music I had ever heard in my life, and I listen to 100 gecs. "Surely this can't be the precursor to the hit indie/alternative rock band Joywave?" I thought to myself. This godawful collection of "music" sounded like it came straight from a GarageBand mixtape on a burned CD, played through your family PC's shitty built-in speakers. Which was probably how it was meant to be played anyway.

Once I got over the initial knee-jerk reaction to catapult my headphones straight through the nearest window, I found myself listening to the small handful of tracks for a second time. Why would I subject myself to such cruel punishment? There must have been something in the water that fateful day, because each time I re-listened, it sounded better and better…

Something about it… captivated me. Was it the screeching, autotuned vocals that caught my attention? The vapid and childishly crude lyrics? Or the over-mixed drums and mp3 fuzz that proved its authenticity (and lack thereof)? Izzy Sparks was speaking to me from the faraway, ancient year of 2007. He had taken my heart from the lockbox, so to say. I began to understand.

Taken at face value, Vice Grip's discography contains objectively, the worst songs ever written (save for one*). But we need to go deeper. To truly comprehend the beauty of Vice Grip, one must understand the concept of:

Somewhere in 21-year-old Daniel Michael Armbruster's mind, there was a great plan stewing. If his eccentric mannerisms, cynical lyricism, and off-putting tweets of today suggest anything, it is that Daniel is no stranger to satire. His devilish plan to create the perfect caricature of 00s synthpop was never meant to be anything more than a one-time joke. How (un)fortunate that Vice Grip was conceived at the height of the second boyband craze, leading to international success and an active fanbase. Their faces were on TV around the world, and even in magazines. Vice Grip even eclipsed the popularity of the Hoodies, their completely 100% sincere pop-punk effort.

Perhaps this non-band came too early. Were they ahead of their time? It seemed Vice Grip had become the very thing it swore to destroy. Fittingly, the band self-destructed after releasing their final album: The Vice Grip Anthology (2320 H.D. - 2009 A.D.). Causes for the breakup include drug addiction, sex addiction, pornography (both producing and consuming), cannibalism, food addiction, feudalism, and college classes.

Eventually fading into obscurity and surpassed by newer satirical bands like Joywave and KOPPS, Vice Grip's genius went unappreciated for the next 15 years. The full Vice Grip Anthology was lost to link rot and Web 1.0's decay. The search for this holy grail was further crushed when former band members revealed that not even they possessed a copy. I mean, can you blame them? It seemed that Vice Grip was nothing more than an unpleasant memory, preserved only in the minds of the ex-emo millennials who had nothing better to do at Warped Tour 2008.

Until one fateful day in the year 2023. The Anthology had at last been uncovered, dug up and dusted off by one of the few fans who had the indecency to pay $9.99 on iTunes for it, all those years ago. It was subsequently transmitted all the way from Pluto to every deviant computer in the world, and is now freely available to all mortals that can withstand the sonic assault on their eardrums.

Everything on the internet does indeed last forever, much to the chagrin of Armbruster FKA Sparks. In his own words, "[The Anthology] is 31 tracks of complete and utter bullshit, presented in chronological order." But for the five or so Vice Grip fans that still exist on this planet, it was worth its weight in gold and then some (so I'm told). It truly is the most amazing album we will ever hear.

I am now at the point in my Vice Grip journey where Holly & Emily is a welcome guest on my shuffle play, rather than a dastardly scourge to make me cringe into the 4th dimension. This presents some difficulties when playing my music in a car filled with more sensible people than I. But they simply have not yet been mind-blown by the frequencies that Vice Grip has to offer.

The true artistry of Vice Grip hides behind the superficial. These are not songs meant to be loathed and detested by their audience. These are songs crafted with love. These are love songs. Because we love it.

Vice Grip truly is the greatest band the world has ever freaking seen.

*Thriller 2 is the best song Daniel has ever made.

#Hey guys did you know I’m 100% completely normal #vice grip #joywave #og

[thecoffeelorian]

Overwatch, Chapter 5

Inspired by ASMR

SFW

Word Count: 1.1k

5 of 5 Chapters

Created for TBBAW 2023 @tbb-appreciation-week

DAY 5: CROSSHAIR

"I'll keep you safe."

Characters: Crosshair and Omega, aka You are Omega because the usual ‘x reader’ tag will not work here.

A/N: My thanks to @intrepidmare for making this fan event possible, and so giving me the opportunity to make this little series. :D :D

Tag List: @groguandthebadbatch

AO3: Click Here

Maybe I will.

All right...so you might not have thought this through entirely before letting these words spill out of you. Your cellmate’s growing hostile expression suggests as much, along with the idea that you’re still very far away from becoming friends.

Nevertheless, this is something that has to be dealt with, especially if your suspicions are correct. Suspicions like Rampart being a lot more oily in personality and ethics than he tried to present at the Senate meeting, even if you don’t know whether or not he interacted with people like you and Crosshair before. Suspicions that there must have been some kind of missing step between you breaking out of your cells and facing Crosshair at the docking bay, although you have no clue as to what that missing thing might be.

That, and all of his isolation, torture, and anything else that’s gone on in this family’s absence, has to be properly brought to light. To Hunter, even, whether or not he wants to hear it.

“You…?”

“Me.”

And in order to do that, you’re not going to be the ‘Little Daughter In Distress’ any more.

You can track wild animals, as well as slightly gentler people.

You can fly a shuttle.

You can shoot an arrow.

You can sabotage a droid, and you can dismantle an explosive.

Should you live to see the outside of this mountain, you will also have proven to yourself that you can break out of one of the largest prisons in the galaxy.

How hard, then, will making one of the most stubborn Clones in existence listen to your claims turn out to be…?

“Think about it, Crosshair. This could be your last chance to get out, and to get someone else besides Hemlock or Emerie to give you a normal check-up. This could also be my last chance to break free of whatever twisted future I’m supposed to help them with, cloning or not. Why can’t we do this together, then? It’s great out there on the outside. Think of all the trees you could climb, all the snacks you could be eating—”

“—And all the lives I could be wasting?”

“What lives?”

He’s doing it again. That strange thing with his face where he presses his lips together and gives you a dirty look, but refuses to speak any further. He was just a little bit stubborn as a baby, too...but nowhere near this level of rigidity. Something big must have happened between back then and right now.

The question is, do you keep on pressing him for details, or just change course to a different topic entirely…?

“Are you talking about the rest of Clone Force 99? Or did you want to mention somebody I haven’t met yet?”

A bit more silence comes and goes...then, somewhat unexpectedly, you hear him answer you in a slightly lower tone.

“...I am not watching any more Troopers die. Just leave it at that.”

“And I’m not leaving you behind again,” you counter, scooting yourself a little bit closer. “You’re still my brother, remember?”

“Oh, will you open your eyes and start facing reality? I’m. Not. Them!”

He’s hissing at you now, a harsh whisper that might not bring all of the Imperial Commandos down upon you, but just enough to drive you away a second time if he manages to scare you that much. That is, if you hadn’t had so much previous experience in dealing with difficult patients.

“I’m not going to entertain you. I’m not going to read you bedtime stories or sing you lullabies. I’m not even going to show you a super-secret way to fix Gonky. So, why in the entire kriffing galaxy are you still—”

“—Because we need each other’s help. That’s why.”

There.

Now he knows.

He knows that he doesn’t have to be a genius to be around you, or loudly talkative, or overly instructive, or so much as slightly wary of other people in order to come home. That’s simply nothing close to what you’re asking of him.

What you do need, however, is a reliable person to be your eyes in the sky.

Someone to keep an eye out for others who might see you stealing a key-card, and then possibly stop you from purposefully using it on the nearest available doors.

Someone to trail along beside you as you search the armory, listening hard over the comm networks for any chatter that would otherwise indicate that key-card is being missed.

Someone to have your back the moment you get into that elevator, and so prepare to open fire upon any surprise attackers as soon as you walk out of it.

And should the two of you not get executed on the spot for attempting to escape...you’ll finally need someone to help you pilot.

“I just need you, all right…? Not Hunter. Not Tech. Not Echo, or Wrecker, or yes, even Gonky. Just you.”

“Fine!”

He throws both of his hands forward, most likely out of frustration, but you’ve got one more thing left to do here. It’s time for a little, shall you say, negotiating.

“Fine. I’ll keep you safe, but on one condition. The moment any one of your brothers—our brothers—decides to turn their blaster on me as payback for saving your hide, it’s over, do you understand? I’m gone. No more begging, no more whining, just me and the next available ship all to myself.”

“Done. And if they shouldn’t turn their blasters on you, but ask to get you checked out by Azi instead, what then?”

“I’ll—I’ll stick around a while longer, maybe even show you how to use my rifle. If they haven’t already sold it off for credits, that is.”

“You’ve got yourself a deal, Cross’ika.”

And the moment you’re done striking the terms of the deal between you, you seal it with a handshake.

It’s done.

It’s done, and you’re going to see the outside of this dreaded prison.

You’re getting all of your possessions back.

You’re going to see your squad again.

And this time, after over a year of waiting, watching, and questioning whether or not you’ve got what it takes to do so...you’re not leaving this lab by yourself.

“Now, if you don’t mind me asking...can I give you a hug?”

Crosshair’s still a little hesitant around you, though, because at first, he just stares at you blankly like you’ve asked him to start speaking in Geonosian. Like he’s not exactly sure if he likes the idea, or even if he does, whether or not it would be remotely safe to do so without getting stabbed in the back somehow.

However...once you’ve taken his other hand, a little less tightly this time and with a hopeful look upon your face...that’s when his usual rock-solid guard lowers a little bit more, allowing you to pull him in.

“Thanks, Cross’ika. You won’t live to regret this.”

#the bad batch #the bad batch fanfiction #fanfiction #tbbaw2023 #crosshair #“i'll keep you safe” #tbb crosshair #tbb omega #tbb crosshair and omega #you are omega #day 5 #tbb: overwatch

[probably-a-plant-thing]

Where am I?

CW: Blood, mentions of suicide, Light body horror

ya boy is still feeling experimental. i'll try and answer any questions yall might have after this weird little ride.

I've never written something so fast

Takes place not long after @damien-mlm 's writing, teehee

The forest was always peaceful at this time. Taking walks quickly became one of Skulk’s favorite hobbies besides the usual people-watching and it was a nice break from his recent bout of over-worrying about everything. Waking up, walking around town, his boys, himself. Always worrying, always paranoid. 

Things were getting tense around town and it didn’t take a genius to spot it. Though he’d seen it most with his boys. Things were getting bad, though Skulk found himself amazed by how fast it was tumbling down. Perhaps he was just more experienced with covering his tracks but it felt like every time he checked in they were more and more stressed about every little thing. 

Hell, Skulk had even gotten mixed up in one of Bright Eye’s stupid schemes. 

It was one of the few moments he wasn’t watching his other lover. 

Damon had been acting strange recently and trying to act like no one had noticed. But Skulk barely counted as a person, so maybe he was right. Either way, Skulk had been trying to keep tabs on Red. Watching him leave home and return from work, watching him buy his groceries, and making sure he didn’t do anything too stupid. 

He’d even taken to meeting up at Red’s work just to “hang around.”

Though, Red always assured Skulk that he was fine. That he wasn’t going to hurt himself, promising that he was sleeping fine.

Skulk knew the last bit was a lie. Though he never called Red out on it. He trusted that they had no reason to lie to each other.

At least he thought they had no reason.

Skulk was walking through the forest, it was always peaceful around this time. The sun beamed through the branches and down onto Skulk’s face. His normal, human face. He hasn’t touched his mask in weeks except for business. Maybe skulk didn’t need it at this point, besides his paranoia for Red, he’d finally felt ok. Skulk finally felt like he could let loose, pull back the curtains in his mind, and allow a little light inside. It felt nice.

In complete honesty, Skulk hadn’t been entirely in charge of the ride for the past month. Hadn’t really had to. Didn’t even realize it was happening but he hadn’t seen anything the entire time. Not a man in the trees or his room coated in blood. He hadn’t heard his own thoughts for days.

Was this healing? Skulk hoped so.

Skulk was just about to head back into town before he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. Blueboy!

“Hello, Darlin! I was just about to head home-” 

“Skulk, where are you? Red tried to fucking kill himself,” Darrell’s distressed voice shot through Skulk and stole his voice with it. “We’re at the hospital now, but I don’t know if I found him in time, the doctors are doing what they can but Skulk please I need...” Nothing was in focus, there was nothing except Skulk and Darrell’s distant, scared, scattered voice. 

It felt like with just those words, the world was too bright. Too loud. Everything buzzing and glowing brightly as though the mime was suddenly trapped under a blinding spotlight and he didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t think of words and just as soon as he’d heard Darrell’s words, nothing else made a sound. 

He’d left this back in California. 

Nothing except the hum of fluorescent lights and a burning pain in his left hand. Shit, he wasn’t supposed to be back here. His vision was blurred and hued black. He wasn't supposed to be back here.

He’d left this feeling back in California he wasn’t supposed to be feeling this anymore.

He wasn’t supposed to be feeling this he wasn’t he wasn’t he was supposed to be better now why didn’t he feel better anymore where was he?

where am I?

where am I?

where am I-?

Skulk blinked and he was back. And he wasn’t alone. His hotel room was a mess and a simple glance back to his hands and he knew why. He was trying to find his face. Maybe he’d misplaced it. Tilting his head he wondered why he’d left it.

Securing it back onto the hole in his head he felt back where he was meant to. Taking in a deep breath, he tried to think about the time he missed. Looking now out the window to see it was pitch black outside. His hands felt wet and his cheeks puffy and raw.

He’d been out for a while. 

“You really haven’t changed, have you, "Skulk?" You hear one bit of bad news and combust. Honestly thought you learned after what you did to us.” 

The voice caught Skulk off guard, he hadn’t heard her in so long. Looking back to his room and felt the sharp pain in his gut once he realized what kind of visit this was.

Sitting on his bed was a headless woman. 

Not just any woman.

Skulk couldn’t even remember her name anymore, though he recognized his damage. Her sweater was once a nice blue, though this visit it was stained, almost black. Old blood made a soft squelching sound as she shifted to stand up before Skulk. She didn’t have eyes but Skulk could feel she was staring at him.

“I thought you people would leave me alone by now,” Skulk mumbled, his mouth frowning down at her.

“Why? You’re not better and we’re still with you.” She mused, “You had your chance twice now and you still let your loved ones drop dead around you. Lucky you, you didn’t bring down the knife for once.” The woman laughed, echoing through Skulk’s head as he shook it away.

“What? Who died?” Skulk hummed, his mind blank as he rubbed his face. The woman shrugged, lightly poking Skulk’s chest in an almost playful manner.

“You’re almost thirty, you can’t be having these kinds of memory problems already!” 

“But who died? Don’t tease, just tell me-” Skulk huffed. 

“The answer is just a call away.” Skulk shook his head, looking away from her as he patted his pockets. He didn’t feel his phone.

“Hey- What happened to my-” Skulk looked back up and she was gone. The room was back to normal. His hands were still wet and with a quick glance down he realized they were wet with blood.

When did I?

Skulk blinked, he couldn’t remember what happened. He couldn’t remember hours. Maybe days. 

How long had he been out..? 

A hard knock on the door snapped Skulk back, his face shooting towards the door as he quickly ripped off anything wet on him. 

“Just a second!” Skulk called out, washing his hands off before grabbing an old band t-shirt and sweatpants he’d stolen from Red’s cabin. Skulk would have to call him when he found his phone again. He didn’t check up on him today and owed a visit. 

Another hard knock snapped Skulk back.

Skulk kicked his old clothes into the closet and walked over to open the door. He didn't have time to put on a new pair of gloves.

“Hello?” Skulk asked, tilting his head a bit. He didn’t recognize this man. 

“Good evening, I’m Detective Carson. Would you mind riding down to the station with me? I just have a few questions for you.”

“... Can I bring a sweater…?”

taglist: @rottent33th @slaasherslut @the-pinstriped-hood @ajarofpickledtears @bluecoolr-main

Dividers from here

#oc writing #slasher oc #skulk #darrell todd #damon herring

[juniperhillpatient]

The Guru Re-watch

I enjoyed this episode a lot more than the last one for 2 key reasons

DANGEROUS LADIES

I've calmed down a tiny little bit from how mad I am about Jet, I just have to move on (but I never truly will)

Let's talk about Zuzu first. I don't have much to say about him in this episode (for once) other than that I agree with @theowritesfiction that Positive! Zuko is unsettling. Reminds me of the brainwashed Joo Dees. I don't like this Zuko.

Oh wait, let me make everything about Azula like I always do real quick - this version of Zuko isn't the real Zuko just like Canadian! Azula wouldn't be the "real" (or at least not the healthiest fullest version) of Azula (& nice teashop Zuko & Canadian over apologetic Azula are very comparable in my opinion.)

Anyway.

I loved Sokka & Hakoda's soft interactions in this episode.

[id: Hakoda & Sokka hugging. Sokka is smiling]

I really love the moment when Hakoda says "Sokka, you don't have to prove anything to me. I'm already proud of you and I've always known you're a great warrior."

Also, we've got Aang & his Guru journey learning about chakras. I've always found all the chakra talk a bit confusing but fascinating, so here's a piece of the transcript partially for my own context.

Aang: So chakras are pools of spiraling energy in our bodies?

Pathik: Exactly. If nothing else were around, this creek would flow pure and clear. However, life is messy, and things tend to fall in the creek. And then what happens?

Aang The creek can't flow?

Pathik Yes. But, if we open the ponds between the pools ... [He removes moss blocking the exit for the water.]

Aang: The energy flows! [The water that was blocked by the moss becomes clear. Aang and Pathik smile at each other.]

Next, we learn about the four chakras & watch Aang open them through visions & meditation (& onion & banana juice.) Aang struggles to overcome his shame for burning Katara, his guilt over leaving the world behind, & his fear of facing Ozai. The visions are an interesting exploration of Aang's internal struggles & we do see a lot of growth from how he was at the start of the series - largely in denial about anything he might need to overcome & reluctant to acknowledge or embrace his responsibility. Aang has grown immensely as a character & this is a good episode for him....Until we get to the part where I have some Controversial Tm opinions.

Pathik: The Thought Chakra is located at the crown of the head. It deals with pure cosmic energy and is blocked by earthly attachment.

Aang: What? Why would I let go of Katara? I love her!

Pathik: Learn to let her go, or you cannot let the pure cosmic energy flow in from the universe.

Much like "The Fortuneteller" this is a strong setup for Aang to overcome his unreciprocated feelings for Katara and the show takes it in another direction. I would have really liked to see this show subvert expectations & show Aang overcoming his feelings for Katara. That's just how I feel. It's a disappointment to me that he just leaves when he's so close to unlocking all the chakras.

Anyway, Katara!!! She is so cute in this episode. I mean, always, but like - she takes Momo to tea! She asks for a table for 2! She jokes during a war meeting that they could send Momo to do some damage because he's knocking over the models! I just adore her.

Katara also recognizes Azula from looking into her eyes & I'm not kidding - we get a Zoom in of Azula's eyes sparkling, then a close-up of Katara's shocked expression of recognition. Before anyone forgets that this is an Azutara blog, I'm collecting those breadcrumbs where I can!

Also, this episode is great because we get to see Azula's genius & devious plans unfolding & we get to see the Dangerous Ladies being an iconic trio. +1000 iconic behavior points each for the Dangerous Ladies. (also I am not even remotely keeping track of these points anymore I'll have to count them up at the end so it'll be interesting to see who wins lol!) We even get some domestic Dangerous Ladies content with them talking & cleaning their Kyoshi Warrior makeup.

[id: Mai with makeup smeared around her eyes halfway through cleaning her Kyoshi Warrior makeup]

I just love Azula, Mai & Ty Lee so much.

That is all I have for this episode!

#the guru #atla book 2 #atla re watch

[transgothicgenre]

bleed out liveblogging

training montage: excellent as always. chorus is my favorite part mostly because the imagery of the other verses are discordant for me for some reason, but it still goes hard as fuck

mark on you: i think i actually only listened to this a few times before the album released and originally i only liked the chorus but the song as a whole is incredible. revenge songs my beloved

wage wars get rich die handsome: please release an instrumental/karaoke track of this one it goes so hard. it goes so hard even without the lyrics. i don't think i'm allowed to drive while listening to this one. the abrupt ending is so sexy tbh

extraction point: first new one yippee!!! i like how fast-paced it sounds especially juxtaposed with the calmness of the vocals. every time johnny boy mentions dreams in his lyrics that song gets +1 so this one is doing really great for me so far. loving the chorus. the vocals are quieter than the rest of the album has been so far which is throwing me off a little bit but i can vibe with it

bones don't rust: OH HOH HOH. the lyrics on this one immediately have me going ham. i didn't type anything else i was too busy listening to the song

first blood: reminds me of corsican mastiff stride. it's very upbeat and i'm grooving to it. there are a lot of references to things in this song that i don't understand but that's half of all tmg music so i'll just close my eyes and imagine what they mean and also check genius lyrics in a few days. "we worship nothing in the foxholes" reminds me of a poem! i will find it later

make you suffer: another revenge song let's fucking goooooo. i will have to listen a few times to figure out how to fit the second verse into the rest of the song but i understand on a subconscious level. AW YEAAAH another +1 for mentioning dreams. don't give up on revenge you always need to strive for it!!! adding this to the list of songs i'm not allowed to drive while listening to. oh my god the OUTRO. delicious

guys on every corner: why do you as a man have guys on every corner (original joke by yadriel(c) 2022). that aside the rhyming is really winning for me. big enjoyer of this song. it really reminds me of fight club which is a red flag if anyone else says it but don't worry guys i'm a weirdo. the last verse is decadent fuck yes

hostages: hey why is this one so long. ohhhh man it's good. i know each song in this album is telling the story of a mini action movie and whatnot but i think, excluding the fact that i haven't listened to the last 3 yet, that this one accomplishes that the best for the format. does that make sense? like the story it's telling is best told through a song and the song is the best vessel for telling the story. if i say it reminds me of die hard does bruce willis come out of the vents and kill me

need more bandages: oh DELIGHTFUL. i am already shouting the chorus while driving despite not being in a car at all. this one reminds me of tintin but like. the bad guys from tintin. y'know? i was really into tintin when i was younger. WHEN THE SHOVELS BREAK WE'VE STILL GOT OUR FINGERNAILS!!!!!! once again +1 for the dream. this one also reminds me of mad max fury road oddly enough. you're right mr goats we ARE going to need more bandages

incandescent ruins: i like the chorus. i have to admit i spent the majority of the time listening to this trying to parse the lyrics and their meaning. again this is one that i'll have to listen to a few times and get to know before i have more thoughts about it but it's very pleasant to listen to

bleed out: 30 seconds in and this is already . woagh. wow. he's gonna bleed out yknow? "every story needs a child...end up just like me" these lyrics are fucking insane. AND THE PAPER RUSTLING NOISES RIGHT AFTER? the g in mountain goats stands for genius. okay wow. this is already one of my top favorites from this album . once again it is 7 minutes long but i completely understand why it's 7 minutes long because it literally couldn't be not 7 minutes long. i love how the last song on albums always feels like a sledgehammer to the ribs. the mountain goats truly understand how to do it. the way jd's voice is cracking toward the end of the song is the cherry on top.

album thoughts as a whole: definitely going to convince my coworkers to play this tonight at work. pretty much all of the song titles are great and i'm a big fan. they really slayed!!!

#post #the mountain goats #bleed out

[kim-poce]

2. Witches Are Meant to Burn: Magic

Before the chapter just a little notice. "Witches Are Meant to Burn" and "No God in Town" will be released weekly both here and on my Patreon (which I'll announce here as soon as the page is reviewed).

Previous | Next

=-=

I know! I know how words work, okay? I know that sayings rely on context, and old sayings have old contexts that we might not know about anymore. Their meanings can change, they can be cut in half,  words can get mis-said and change over time.

Did you know, for example, that the original saying of “the horse arrived” had a second part? “and it brought someone along.” This means the opposite of the way we use it today! Funny right? I could go on about how this happened but that's not the point.

Anyway, I also thought about the possibility that “witches” is a misspelling, maybe the unison of some words. That's the reason I studied history and etymology so hard! I looked through every word that resembled witches. ALL OF THEM. Even 'uytch', you know, the dish from a country far away that doesn't speak our language and much less has our saying.

In no moment I found a word (or several of them) that fits the sentence and is old enough to match the age of this saying. I might be wrong though. Am I a complete genius? Yes. Do I know everything? No.

There is another thing about this saying; it is old. I can't track back the exact date but this is so old, old enough that our language has changed a lot since its creation. How do I know that? Well, I wasn't accurate when I said there is nothing about witches registered, because there is. It's inside a cave (which I have visited. Great trip. My students fought each other over who would come along. Great fight).

This cave is important, it was locked up for CENTURIES, and the language used there is so old that some sentences are almost unrecognizable. It was located years back and has been the source of new studies and theories in diverse fields. Point is, the walls are completely scribbled over, it seems to have started in an organized way but I could see how it soon became messy.

The scribbles were not made with some paint or ink, nor carved with stone or sharp tools. It was burnt, well, it was carved using a heated tool. Every letter (and it was a cursive alphabet!) was individually carved like this, as in, a small hot tool was pressed on the wall and twisted once (only once) to make a small hole, the process was repeated over and over to make the words. I don't want to lose track of the point, but I must say each word was at least ten centimeters tall and half a centimeter deep in the walls, and the tool was at most a millimeter in diameter. I need you to understand that centuries ago these people heated this small little needle-like thing and pressed on the wall over and over and over, thousand and thousand of times to write these words down. The spot where the letters were could be messy, but each letter was very carefully made. So you can see why the scholars go crazy about this place.

There are many mysteries about this site, many of them fall into my field but you don't want me rambling about it. Back to the point, the “witches are meant to burn” saying was written several times (I touched them back then, they were hot enough to cause pain), and along with them there were prayers and other sentences meaning mostly two things: fate and sorrow (so the witch saying fits well in there even when they are centuries of context and history apart from each other.) I need to emphasize that the saying was written in the same way we use it today, even with the dates so far apart, maybe back then they still had the context though.

If I could meet whoever wrote that on these walls and ask what a witch is they most likely would look at me as if I’m an idiot, after all, who wouldn’t know such common sense? (or at least I believe it was common sense since the continent being so large didn’t stop the saying from being said all over it). Ah, the riches I would pay to walk around the continent so far back and watch with my own two eyes what I can only speculate about!

Witches, whatever they were, were most likely really well known, maybe not important, maybe not essential. But known. Now, is it just me or this word, these witches, are so old and meaningful and should have been more talked about? I know, there are many sentences at that site (it's a really important site) but out of all of them, this is the least researched one! And it’s the only one used until today!

“Why?” I asked a colleague one day. “I get people not being obsessed about it as I am, but why is no one looking for it at all? All of the other stuff in that cave is being thoughtfully studied by so many academics but why is this one just ignored?”

“I can't speak for others,” she said, pausing to think. “But it just doesn't… draw me, it's as if it's a closed case? It kind of feels like nothing interesting will come from it. I am not talking down your work! You are amazing and dedicated and even if I'm not interested in witches or whatever I always read your papers because you are just great at it, but this word is like… boring, I just… can't explain it another way.”

Other academics (and common people) had the same opinion as if this single subject killed the insatiable curiosity of humanity. Even my own students don’t seem interested in it, only the older ones, it looks like if I force them to hear about it almost every day for years they come to either hate the subject or be curious about it. Anyway, this seemingly instinctive disinterest in this word is odd, in an irrational way.

I don't allow myself to act irrationally in front of others, being obsessed is one thing and being irrational is another. It would compromise my reputation as a scholar, it would make my research look childish and bullshit. I can't have that. So I don't tell them about the hot words, I don't show them my notebooks or the hidden, smaller secret library about magic.

I have mixed feelings about magic. On one hand, I'm an academic and know very well how people wrongly believed in magic centuries back and how everything was proved to be just myths. On the other hand, this word is hot against my skin and my skin only, I'm drawn to it so strongly while everyone seems to want to forget about it. I don't have a rational way to explain it so I allow myself to be irrational. As long as it doesn't interfere with my studies, of course.

Magic isn’t my field. Do you wonder why someone who can feel what I can and feels the need to uncover the origin of this singular word has not tried to specialize in magic? Well, magic does not exist, there is no field just for that. I study history and magic history with it though so let me explain the basics.

Magic has two main divisions: ‘hands of fate’ and ‘hands of god’

Hands of fate weren’t (as people seem to think) just a huge storm over a sinner’s farm or a carriage accident by a runaway bandit. It was everything. It could be the death of an innocent child or the sheer luck of an assassin. It had no regard for justice or fairness, much less cared about humans' morals. It was a leaf falling from the tree, a mother choosing her child’s name, everything, and every choice.

I can make the correlation between the belief in magic that our society used to have and the way our society still so intrinsically believes in fate today, sometimes it’s as if the name just changes. If I say “magic controls our life” I’ll be called crazy but “fate controls our life”? That’s just a common belief. That’s one of the reasons “witches are meant to burn” is used so often, because what happened was meant to happen the same way witches are meant to burn.

Hands of god are what people truly think of when the word magic comes up, the ability to control the present and the future, if hands of fate set everything in stone, hands of god break the rocks and write a new, ever-changing, history. This is where recipes of foods meant to make one live forever, chantings to attract luck, and everything that humans can actively make is. Contrary to the passive point of view of hands of fate.

I’m sure I don’t need to say, since you must know how society works, but such beliefs weren’t quite liked back in the day. It was said that breaking a line of fate created disaster. So you shouldn’t, for example, use the hands of god to save your dying child, because if you do so some village far away may suffer from hunger. Doctors were hunted down, medicine was criminalized, to fight for your future was to fight against other people’s future and every single act of kindness could be read as selfishness attack and punished as such.

Witches are meant to burn, whether they want it or not.

In the current days, the belief in ‘fate’ (similar to hands of fate) is still strong, but no one believes in ‘magic’ (hands of god and the disaster it brings) anymore. It’s like a godless dead religion, a myth, but fate is just… the way people go on about their life. It’s a curious thing, actually, there was never a god widely worshiped in this land. People here believe something is there and this something decides their lives, but there was no need to worship this deaf being, even the hands of god fight against this mysterious “fate” instead of begging for mercy from it. It is an acceptance of god, if anything. Theology is not my field either but it does draw my attention from time to time.

Well, that’s enough crash course on magic, I’ll just finish it with an academic joke brought upon us by the coincidences of life. As I said, the hands of fate carve the destiny in stone and the hands of god break the rocks. That cave — as highly agreed upon— meant to represent the ‘hands of fates’ so isn’t it such a funny thing that it was brought to light by erosion? If magic was real, the ones who practiced it would be proud of themselves.

=-=

@kathea, @extemporary-username, @wolfeyedwitch

#Witches Are Meant To Burn #my writing #witches #fantasy #original writing

[crjupdates]

How Carly Rae Jepsen Found Strength And Freedom With New Album 'The Loneliest Time': "It's Surrendering To Everything"

On her fifth album, 'The Loneliest Time,' Carly Rae Jepsen dances her way through the "hard-hitting lessons" of life — celebrating growth as both a person and an artist.

Grammys • Lior Phillips • Oct. 20, 2022 • Photos: Meredith Jenks

"Rather than free falling, I'm free-flying," Carly Rae Jepsen says, the warmth of that untethered freedom radiating in her smile. That artistic liberty fuels the pop star's fifth studio LP, The Loneliest Time. 

The album weaves in and out of pure danceable joy, but with the lyrical prowess of a pop artist who has fully embraced every emotion she feels — even if it doesn't spawn a feel-good earworm. With a catalog full of delightful hits like "I Really Like You," "Run Away With Me," and "Call Me Maybe," Jepsen felt it was time to stop trying to figure out her place in the greater pop landscape and just chase the songs that felt right in the moment — and that felt true to herself.

But thanks to Jepsen's pop genius, The Loneliest Time still brims with memorable hooks and candid emotional resonance. There's the sweet and earthy "Western Wind" and the sincere soft folk of "Go Find Yourself or Whatever." Add in the epic title track's expansive disco strings and sloping melody, and it feels as if Jepsen has explored the full spectrum of both pop music and human nature.

"I feel a little less constrained by this idea of what type of pop I'm making," Jepsen says with a calm certainty. "My loneliness made me do some of the bravest and craziest and wildest things of my life. And I loved the reactions that it caused, because they're so dramatic, and I felt it was worthy of an album." 

With The Loneliest Time, Jepsen isn't denying or rejecting her past, nor is she ignoring it. This isn't Carly Rae Jepsen reinvented, it's Carly Rae Jepsen in this moment. That's a powerful step for any artist in pop, a genre prone to pigeonholing stars, especially after a runaway hit.

Ahead of the album's release, Jepsen spoke with GRAMMY.com about the emotionally empowering process of The Loneliest Time, maturing as a pop star, and building genuine longevity.

Do you have any tricks for keeping yourself focused and healthy on tour? Personally, I now judge my day by how much water I've had.

So funny, this age that we're in. We've started so many different clubs on this tour. One is Book Club, where we all get ourselves scooched together reading on the bus. We wanna read Dracula for Halloween month!

We also started this thing with me and Josephine, my glam girl, Scott, our merch guy, and Chris, our tour manager, called Water Club. When we see each other we're like, "Have a water". We literally are just helping each other stay hydrated on the road. What does that say about touring in your thirties, that we started a group called The Water Club? 

I can only imagine that reflecting on and comparing to how you toured in your twenties is an interesting experience for you. 

I've always felt a little like I'm floundering in the good graces of some luck that came my way. That "Where am I?" energy is always with me. But I do feel like this era, being 36 now, and almost 37, I do feel more confident and excited and a little less shocked all of the time. It's kind of registered that this is my life. Which is great. 

If anything, I just feel a little bit more purposeful with every decision. A little bit more confident, even with our stage show. I play it like a little boss lady within the group dynamic that we have, where I used to ask questions like, "Why do we do it that way? Could we do it this way?" Having enough meetings to get to the bottom of things that always were big question marks for me. That part's really empowering and exciting.

Lyrically, there is this acknowledgement throughout The Loneliest Time that the softer, gentler version of you is still accessible, even when you're tapping into larger, more powerful emotions. You alluded to intention earlier, which is so appropriate.

Definitely. This album is very much about taking away the things that Scorpios love, the controlling factor or whatever. It is surrendering to everything — whether happiness, love, hardships or grief, taking on the full experience of life and not trying to avoid any of the hard stuff, or fast forward to the good stuff. It's feeling all of the things. 

This is what this album really was for me, but that's also very much in line with what my life experience has been over the last few years while working on this. It's a lot of hard-hitting lessons about all of that growth.

Carly Rae Jepsen via Instagram: THE LONELIEST TIME 💌 Oct 21. I’m quite fascinated by loneliness. It can be really beautiful when you turn it over and look at it. Just like love, it can cause some extreme human reactions. Preorder now. 💖🖤🌛🍇

I love that you started the album with "Surrender My Heart". When moments are intense and you surrender to it, things are just so much clearer.

Absolutely. It was a very true sentiment when I first started going to therapy — for a lot of reasons. My whole family had dealt with a ton of tragedy all at once. You know that thing, when it rains it pours. I felt like that really happened to us, and my solution to it was so pragmatic. "I'll go to therapy, she'll tell me how to be tougher in life. I will leave with an extra layer of skin and armor and I'll just know how to handle things because life's gonna get harder. I fell apart, let's fix me." And it was just so enlightening to be there in the room. After one session I was like, "Here, take all my money." [Laughs]

She said, "Maybe you need to soften up. Maybe you have to feel all the things." It's so funny, because I'm sitting there being like, "Wait, I wrote an album about being in touch with your emotions. I should be in touch with them." But no, it's still hard to take it in all the time. 

I was kind of avoiding some of the experiences of life. And I don't think that's how you get to feel any of the highs or the lows. Being less frightened of both of those things can make you feel a little bit more stabilized. You continue on without denying any of the highs or the lows as they happen. That's a really huge part of it for me. 

I see other people who walk through life just doing things that I admire so much. I have a girlfriend right now who's going through some big grief and every time I hang out with her she's just like, "I'm sad." And I'm like, "Cool, well be sad with me. Let's be sad and have a sad day together." Just seeing her being brave enough to do that makes me feel braver when I'm having an off day. 

There's power in not wanting to fix everything at every point. And while I don't necessarily think it stems from control, it can stem from this sense of perfection and ideas that we've all been sold, which you cover a lot in your music — of how things are meant to be, how love is meant to be, and sometimes it isn't.

Yes! I think that tension between how it's "supposed" to be and what it is, there's some real dissonance in there that gets to be worked out. But if you can let go of how it's supposed to be and just be really accepting of how it is, I think you're off to a good start.

Emotion was about fusing together everything you had learned on Kiss and Tug of War, and Dedicated started going into heartbreak and creating that new story. Now that you're on your fifth studio album, where do you feel like you're at now? What was the guidepost for you while writing the album?

Rather than free falling, I'm free-flying! I feel a little less constrained by this idea of what type of pop I'm making. Is it '80s? '70s? '90s? Am I sad or happy? What am I emoting as a message? It's like, screw all of that. At this point, being 10 years into the business and change, I am a woman. There are many different things I feel. I can be very playful, I can be hurt and resentful and confused, and I can also have a disco ballad that's five minutes long, and indulgent, and is my opus. And all on the same album, because I contain multitudes. 

I believe that people are ready to expand this pigeonholed idea of what a pop artist can be, which is a genre that's very tricky to break out of the mold of. You can be all of the things. And I've felt that desire in this genre that is so playful in the types of music that you can do. 

But I wanna also break the perception of, "Am I the sexy pop artist?" I just don't wanna have to fight that fight anymore. For The Loneliest Time, the main theme of it is just loneliness and how that can cause such extreme reactions within you. Because my loneliness made me do some of the bravest and craziest and wildest things of my life. And I loved the reactions that it caused, because they're so dramatic, and I felt it was worthy of an album. 

I was less concerned with, "Are they all gonna fit?" and a little bit more excited that they would be as diverse as they were meant to be — and to let the songs speak for themselves.

There's this intriguing blend between pure fragility and super confidence. You just sound like you're having the time of your life. 

Thank you. I really overwrite. Even last night I was with my A&R talking about what we could potentially consider if we were to do a B-side [record]. And we were laughing, like, "Let's bring up the folders again." 

So much thought goes into these things. It's a little bit of a Beautiful Mind mapping. By the time I'm done I'm like, "Oh my God, I seem insane." But it was a method to the madness, and I swear I feel that way every time. When I know it feels done and the order feels good, it was some puzzle I had to unlock. But as much as I'm like, "This is not cohesive," it, to me, is meant to be together. 

Maybe I rebel because of having a song like "Call Me Maybe". I've just so desired to be [putting] all of my attention into being an album artist since then, not a single artist. And that's maybe why I put out B-sides that aren't even counted at the label. They're just gifts.

There's something of a gift with The Loneliest Time, too — people are really coming to understand that you want to be understood. I like the immediacy here. 

Thank you. You know how you can only gush to certain people about the things that you're secretly really excited or a little proud of? I almost feel guilty saying that word, like it should be shameful. But I'm embracing it. Like, "What am I happy about?" I said it to my boyfriend last night, because we just did the final cut and color [for a video], and I'm like, "It's so lovely." 

You can look back on a career with nostalgia, and like Björk said once, "I don't wanna be a nostalgic artist." I really loved that. I love that we're constantly pushing forward, especially for a woman in pop music. 

There was a time where I thought, "It's a young woman's game." So for me to be 36, almost 37 and feel like I'm about to put out my favorite video of my career? It's not so much about anything other than the growth. I've learned how to communicate. And to have the trust of a team at the label now.

It took me a long time to have that confidence, but also to feel like I have a team of people who trust that we can do this together. We can find the right pieces. For the first time in a hot minute, I was like, "Well, I don't wanna be stale. I don't wanna just be putting out music because I'm chasing a thing that was a dream when I was a teen. I'm just as invigorated and as excited now. Why not take all the lessons I've learned and keep growing?" 

For pop artists that I look at — there's a few, like Cyndi Lauper — but I would love to be a part of that catalog that gets to have some longevity with this thing. That'd feel fantastic. That's my secret goal and I'm saying it out loud to you.

I appreciate that, and when you are having fun — the raw, pure, sugar-rush fun — even in a song that covers really wobbly moments, your artistry has legs. It makes the listener excited for what's to come. 

You're so right. Joy is the spot. I had a child come into a VIP Q&A session, and she asked, "Do you write when you're sad or when you're happy?" And I was like, "It's interesting because when I'm sad, I wanna eat a tub of ice cream and do nothing." But I know that there are artists that go to those places they wanna emote to get through. When I get out of my sadness is when I might be able to start talking about my sadness. Then there's a spark, a curiosity I have about it. 

I think that's where "Bends" came from. I think that's where "Surrender My Heart" and "Go Find Yourself" [came from]. My creativity is sparked around a really limitless possibility, a free-flying feeling where you're like, "I'm here to catch this feeling in a way and document it." And it does feel quite joyful.

You have this ease and comfortability because you use pop as an escape, to a degree, but you're also not running away from these feelings.

Oh yeah. I think that's a real difference with even how I'm looking at shows lately. It was, "Come to my show. We're gonna forget how scary the world is for a night. I'm here to help you." And now I'm looking at it in the way that I experience the best shows that I go to. 

I recently saw James Taylor and I said to my boyfriend, "Just so you know, I grew up on James Taylor, and he's this link between my divorced parents. I'm gonna cry a lot, Maybe I'll be fine." He hadn't seen me cry, so I was thinking it was gonna be super embarrassing if it happened. 

I make it through the first half of the set dry-eyed. And then [James] comes out and he's like, "Fire and Rain," "Sweet Baby James," "The Secret of Life." And my neck is wet. It was just a wet neck situation. [Laughs]

[My boyfriend] was putting his arm around me, and James was telling these stories, and by the time it was done, I was like, "I'm so sorry. I can't stop." There was clearly some stuff I needed to feel. 

"The Secret of Life" is the last song that my mom heard in the car the day my grandmother died. I wasn't there because of COVID, but I knew that experience. So I got to feel some things in a safe place that I needed to feel, really safely, really comfortably. And it felt wonderful. I had been needing that night. And it was so cathartic that when I left, I felt 10 pounds lighter. 

That's what the best, most joyful experiences can make me feel. When I saw David Byrne's "American Utopia," my brain got twisted about what a concert could be. Holy s—, I felt better about life. I thought, "God, I've been looking at this all wrong. I've been thinking my job is to help people escape, but what if my job is to help people feel whatever it is they need to? Or a little bit of both?" 

That's where I got the idea for the moon mascot who comes at the beginning of our show on this tour and goes, "Tonight is for you to feel what you need to in a safe place, to escape if you need to." Hopefully it can be that for some people. 

Feeling the confidence that you can be the type of artist that you look at and are inspired by, that's the ultimate achievement, right?

It is the best feeling. That's the dream, the goal. Some joy, some happiness, but also some real in-touch-ness with yourself, and maybe some sadness too — all in a cathartic way.

#carly rae jepsen #crj #carlyraejepsen #the loneliest time #the so nice tour #grammys #lior phillips #meredith jenks #women in music #pop music #pop culture #category: feature #category: interview #album: the loneliest time #tour: so nice #writer: lior phillips #photographer: meredith jenks #type: link #type: video #type: photo #source: grammys #10/20/22 #october 2022 #2022 #🍐 #Youtube

[the-magnus-institute]

No Trace - Statement 20010211

Statement of Lawrence de Boer, regarding the events leading up to and the disappearance of Arytom Tade in 1994. Original statement received in mail, on the 2nd of November, 2001.

---

Through all of this, I’ve tried not to keep count of it. Maybe if I pretend that it isn’t my last thought each night, and that I don’t check the bed every morning to see if he is there, maybe then he’ll come back. It’s a bit like convincing myself that I am not looking for the piece of script I desperately need to memorise, and then it will turn up in the corner of my eye.

I’ve tried not to keep track, but it’s been an awful, empty seven years and three months since Arytom disappeared. I know what you’re thinking, and I promise I’m not writing to you about a mundane missing person’s case, my partner didn’t just go off the grid in an overnight frenzy. You don’t understand. In the simplest, most quintessential sense of the word, he disappeared.

And I would have written sooner, I really would have, but you must understand, when so many policemen and search and rescue officers tell you that your partner has most likely fled the country or died in a ditch somewhere, you start to believe it. It was easier than hoping for the impossible, but my heart wouldn’t let my mind rest. I heard of your institute from a friend, she’s really into the occult and all that, and I figured that if anyone had something intelligent to say about all this, it was you. Let me try and be more concise, from the beginning.

Tyoma never chatted much about his childhood. But it doesn’t take a genius to guess that growing up in the USSR was suboptimal. He had always made a point to add after whatever horrid story he was telling that he had gotten the better of it, that there was always worse. He often mentioned him and his mother standing in lines in the freezing morning, in front of grocers, waiting to get a cut of fresh meat. It was always frozen, salted, and smoked black, which I guess was as fresh as it got in soviet Hungary.

I only got to know him in 1989, when the first thing he did was scrape all his money together and hurry to the Netherlands. He always joked about having feared that the country would be shut down again. He always got a nervous twitch in his leg after that.

Overall, he was a bright young man, and I am almost certain that he made a living out of translating from French to English and back, before his plays got picked up. Surprisingly, out of the two of us, I had been the one living from paycheck to paycheck. Come to think of it, it’s not that surprising… the only artist poorer than the poet is the actor.

I met Arytom Tade while I was performing at a community theater in Leiden. It was some philosophic piece, about morality, or perhaps mortality, dragging on and on, the kind of theater that you left feeling worse than when you had entered. I had found it hard to relate to my character, and to be passionate about the play. He was too much of a stickler.

On the third night of performing, I peeked out through the ruffles of the cheap, flaking curtain. The fancy folk always sat in the front rows, back when people still dressed up to go to the theater, they sat in the front row, to be looked at. It was why I never did. And generally it could be said that there were always empty seats, and even if people had bought a place to sit further back they would often sit closer, a few minutes before the show. So generally I was acting to the first six rows out of twelve.

That night, there was a man sitting, all the way in the back. Perhaps my mind deceives me, but it is entirely possible that he was also in the corner. Naturally, this perplexed me. And then someone had moved a prop and we had to rush to help the prop manger find it, leaving the curtain to sway shut.

During the performance, my eyes kept darting to him, across the room. He kept watching me, which yes, it was what he had come there to do, but there was such a strange quality to his eyes. Of course it seems foolish now, knowing Tyoma as well as I do, but I couldn’t help but fall out of character for a moment as I quickly snapped my eyes away from him.

After quite a rocky show, that might or might not have had something to do with the handsome stranger in the corner, I got out of makeup, out of stage clothes, and headed for the bus. I usually slept on the way home, because I didn’t get much of a chance to do anytime else. You can probably guess who I found waiting at the station.

He was looking up at the arrival time tables, with a brimmed hat on his head and a coat hugging his torso, like it had been sewn right onto him. He looked at me, and I almost walked into traffic. In clumsy Danish, he complimented my performance, and I asked which bus he was waiting for. He smiled and we kept conversing on the bus which we apparently both took.

He was tall, and the kind of lanky that could only be the result of a lifelong hunger strike; you should have seen what he called cooking. He wore turtlenecks and that godawful coat that could vanish him into the crowd of street dwellers seamlessly.

There was a sort of charm to everything he said, and how he managed to pack as much meaning into as few words as possible, even when we transitioned to English. He could use silence to communicate just as well as he used words, perhaps even better. I told him I was short on money, and he told me he was short on roommates, and before the end of the month he was helping me carry my things up the stairs to his flat.

Of course, I’ve always known something wasn’t quite right with him. He was jumpy, and if I stared long enough, I could swear that his pupils had melted into the dark colour of his eyes. I felt as if we both were to go mute the next day, we would have still perfectly understood each other. 

And of course, I’ve always known of the things that had made him so. He had told me, not long after starting to live together, how he had been a journalist, back in his homeland. How he had been greatly unfavoured by the government. This was especially unfortunate, considering that they had no restraint when it came to the matter of bugging entire houses and telephone lines.

There were nights when he woke from a dream, and shortly after I woke as well, to the sound of him rummaging through clothes and items, looking for wires and mechanisms. Once he had gotten close to ripping the wallpaper off. It wasn’t sleepwalking, or psychosis. He was awake, but it seemed like this intense state of paranoia had taken such hold of him that he had forgotten of his less imminent surroundings.

“They can see me, they can hear me,” he kept repeating, until I took his arm each time and shook some sense into him. I told him that this was the Netherlands, not some fascist nightmare behind God’s back, led him back to bed, and waited until he fell back asleep again. Often I slept next to him, dreams claiming me first.

He was never a people’s person. I always said that people just weren’t Tyoma people, but we both knew it was merely a kind gesture. He had little intention of getting to know new people, but came with me to rehearsals and dinner evenings each time I asked. He forced a smile but didn’t converse much, and his eyes kept darting around the room, like a trapped animal. He kept grabbing my arm, and took days to recover after each occasion. I suggested getting evaluated for asperger’s, but there was always such a reluctance on his part that I stopped pushing in fear of offending him.

It took almost a year of nagging him, but I had managed to convince him to take a play he had written to the director of Leiden community theater. He was adamant about only writing for himself, but you don’t understand. It was so simple, yet wonderful, I needed others to see it. I showed it to Grethe Selva, the director of the theater. Naturally, she fell in love with the script, like I knew she would. It portrayed the struggle of the working man beautifully, with fits of despair and short lived bursts of joy.

Back home, it took a good amount of apologising to get Tyoma to speak to me. I did manage to break even, when I reminded him that if it got put on stage, he would get to see me play in what he had written. I saw softness overcome his face, his eyebrows furrow, and I knew I’d won.

We prepared long and hard to have it put on stage, and Tyoma insisted on having me play the protagonist: it was his one request. On the opening night, I sat him down in the front row. Naturally, he whined about it, like I knew he would. He said it bothered him that people could see him, but he couldn’t see them. I said that if his play was good enough, no one would be paying attention to the back of his head anyway, and that seemed to calm him down enough to get the show started.

It was a success, of course it was. I had never doubted that. And still, I wish I could go back and wrestle the script out of my own hands before ever showing it to Grethe. I wish I could go back and slap myself.

At closing bows, in midst of the thunderous claps, I reached a hand out towards the first row, and beckoned Tyoma up. He seemed transfixed on my palm, as I helped him up onto the stage. My heart was overflowing and bursting with joy, and I spun him to face the audience.

I shouldn't have. I could feel that something was wrong the moment I saw the lights hit his face. He was pale, unnaturally so, even in the lights that already washed people out. His eyes were fixed at the audience, and I thought he’d never breathe again. And he had this terrified rigidness to him, this awful fear deep in his bones, I felt it with my hand on his waist, solid and shaking, I felt it in the frozen and hurried way he bowed when I lightly pressed at his back. 

I think this must have been when it really started.

I held his hair as he vomited in the dingy theater bathroom. Something was very wrong, and the only thing I could do was hold his soft brown hair and soothe a hand down his back, again and again. He emerged from the toilet, looked at me, and there was no recognition in his eyes.

I lived with a ghost for the next six months. Arytom woke up in the morning, did his tasks, wrote exactly ten pages worth of stage instructions, and went back to bed. It went like this until I looked at him one day, and not only realised that he didn’t recognise me, but also that I didn’t recognise him.

I took him to clinics, to doctors he had before refused. They couldn’t find anything wrong with him, but I knew that that man was not my friend or partner. After his work, he didn’t fall asleep. He just lay in our bed, and stared at the ceiling, the same way he stared at me, like I too were just plaster on a wall.

One night, as I got into bed, he spoke. 

“I hear something calling me every night. It’s like the buzzing of mechanical bugs inside of my walls. I heard it calling but I resisted.” 

I still remember it perfectly. I didn’t know what to do, so I leaned over and kissed him. He looked at me for a moment, his hand rested on my cheek, and there was almost a twinkle in his eyes. I had almost gotten through to him, maybe if I had just kissed him harder. But I hadn’t. And he wished me goodnight and went to sleep.

In the morning, he wasn’t there. I dug through the house, then the garden, then the city. I ringed him a thousand times. It was no use. All of our keys were inside, and all of the doors were locked. And I doubt he jumped from a fifth story window. The policemen came, and search dogs came, and they couldn’t find his scent. They couldn’t find any clue leading to him. The curve of the mattress that had formed under him was gone. The leaking ink pens he always left out were gone. It was as if he had never even existed.

It’s awfully lonely without him. I don’t know what to do with myself. I suppose that’s why this letter is getting so lengthy, it’s been a long, long while since I talked to anyone like this. I apologise, I know this is in no way concise, or of much use to you.

Who did Tyoma see that evening? I keep thinking of the way he had stared into the clapping crowd that night, terrified recognition rippling through his face, like he had seen an old friend he owed money to. I keep thinking of how afraid he had always been of his name being printed, of being known. I keep wondering why.

And I keep trying to ignore the feeling of being watched while I’m in the home I shared with him.

#submitted-statement #entity:eye #entity:stranger #submission #tma #the magnus archives #tma statement #tma fan statement #entity:vast

[allamericansbitch]

Hey! Not the same anon but I love your blog and music taste. I've listened to Ethel Cain since you recommended it but I still feel like I didn't get it? It was pretty jarring on a first listen too..idk. Am I missing something or do I just not get it..or like it? Like enough to love it..and the approachable songs were the ones I liked best I think or could remember the most. I just want you to explain why you love it so much and maybe that could help me. I don't mean that in a rude way either cuz I usually love or have the same music taste as you!

it's totally fine for you to simply not like something, nothing is wrong with that at all! i had a similar experience to you when i listened to it. i had only heard crush and american teenager when the album was released so when i listened to it in full i was like 'oh this is different...' and had no idea that it was a concept album and the story behind it.

but the more i listened to it the more it clicked and then when i found out the concept behind it i was in love with it. it was just so much more meaningful to me knowing the story. (just in case you dont know the story is told from the point of view of a girl who grows up in a small town, looses the love of her life, runs away, gets caught up in a bad situation with a man who ends up killing and eating her). there's a tik tok channel that goes through each of the songs and tells the story behind them (here is the first video of the first track, to watch the rest you can just look threw their profile) as well as ethel herself talking about the meaning of each song on genius.

i love the storytelling on the album, it's simplicity and space allows the listener to kind of fill in the blanks and create their own unique version of the story she's telling. i love how she lets the songs breath because it captures that open air feeling of small towns that never really have anything going on. it's a really tight, good concept album about something no one has really done before. i would say listen to it again, but also, no pressure at all if you dont like it, it's just not your taste and thats fine!

#answered #anonymous

[everythingbap]

📸 Genius Korea: [EVENT REVIEW] BANG YONGGUK Is A Vibe On 2024 U.S. Tour ‘III’ A/N: posted on 240428

BANG YONGGUK’s ‘III’ THE US TOUR 2024 brings the 34-year-old rapper, singer-songwriter, producer, and art director across a span of 11 cities beginning in April 2024. His most recent stop landed in Northern California, under the intimate lowlights of Harlow’s, which holds nearly 500. Performing in Sacramento for the very first time, Yongguk proved to a crowd of buzzing fans why he’s a powerhouse in his industry.

Yongguk served as the leader of the fan-favorite infamous K-Pop group B.A.P for six years into his career. He is no stranger to packed venues and ferociously loyal fans—to the average viewer, he appears a cool and collected veteran who flows through energetic and soul-scratching discography for nearly two hours. But for true fans of Yongguk who know his story, every performance, no matter the space, means far more than a great setlist and screaming crowds.

Yongguk is not your traditional former idol rapper heralding from Korea’s monolithic pop music industry – his beginnings are rooted in Seoul’s underground rap scene, where his early writing bloomed with the hip-hop group Soul Connection. He was later invited to train and join the eventual overseer of B.A.P, TS Entertainment, where he would slowly feature and debut collab singles and duo projects before promoting with all of the members of B.A.P in 2012.

Regarded as one of the earliest K-Pop groups to attempt gritty, authentic concepts with their hard-hitting lyrics and powerful live performances, the group was able to recruit a passionate following for years before lawsuits, hiatuses, and internal mistreatment by their company plagued the group for the remainder of their career. Despite their undeniable talent, and to the dismay of BABYz (B.A.P’s fandom name), Yongguk was the first to leave the company and the group once their contracts had expired in 2018, with each member following suit shortly thereafter.

There’s a reason for the quick history lesson – I promise.

Like so many others, I’ve been a fan of Yongguk and B.A.P since they were actively promoting. I’ve been following his career for years, from Bang&Zelo (look it up, thank me later), to his solo self-titled album and EPs. Hearing and reading about an artist’s journey is not the same as feeling like you walked the path with them, something I know every longtime fan of Yongguk can attest to experiencing. Watching him grow from a reserved, budding rapper into the assured, multi-dimensional accredited artist he is today has been a gift – then you stick him in front of me in my own backyard, fresh off a new vibey six-track project release? It’s a miracle I wasn’t crawling on the ceiling of the bar like Toni Colette in Hereditary.

Yongguk’s roots in the underground rap scene are still evident in his modern artistry and style – on top of the smaller venue space, DJ Babynine has been opening for him on his US tour. His set was a perfect taste for the rest of the evening, mixing crowd favorites from Daddy Yankee’s “Gasolina” to “Water” by Tyla – even throwing in some old-school with Kurtis Blow. It felt like a genuine nod to hip-hop and set the mood for the rest of the show, where Yongguk wasted no time taking the stage and immediately going into a set of older and newer tracks like “OFF,” “Xie Xie,” “Ride or Die,” “IXLU,” “NUMB,” and “RACE.”

The crowd was unstoppable the minute he came out – mind you, this was a room of maybe 100-200 fans. Every song was sung back to him, and every pause to address the crowd was filled instantly with words of affirmation, hollers, and infamous “barking.” Yongguk was caught off guard a couple of times, at one point laughing into the mic and stating: “I love your f*cking energy, Sacramento.” It was a great back and forth as the show progressed, even into slower, more sentimental tracks like “I Remember,” “히키코모리 (HIKIKOMORI),” and “AM 4:44.”

That’s kind of the beauty of Yongguk – his stage presence, coupled with the range of his music, is wildly captivating. He’s towering, a 6'0 handsome man who could still pass for a teenager with his boyish smile, but he opens his mouth, and you’re hit with a husky baritone voice that somehow weaves excellently through his crooning and heavier rapping sections. His lyrics are deeply personal, and you really can’t help but lose yourself in the moment of his music. In fact, “여행 (Journey)” was probably the most silent the room would be all evening – a plucky, bossa nova melancholic track where he explores his sadness feeling lost in life. It’s one of those quiet rarities where the language barrier doesn’t really matter, where everyone can understand as you watch him sing one lone note over and over under a single light, and the rest of the room fades at the edges. As a fan, you already know why you love him, and what, as an artist, he does for you, but experiencing something like that in person confirms why he does this for himself, too.

The second half of the night was a complete vibe switch as he let loose into his most popular hype tracks. Bouncy trap-inspired songs like “UP,” “UFO,” and “BUSS IT DOWN” had the crowd going feral, jumping and bouncing with him as he swayed through hit after hit. Two of his staff members were on stage with him for English translations, and even they were grooving and smiling at fan reactions. I even caught the security guards beside me at one point elbowing each other as bass-destroying head exploder “YAMAZAKI” started, one of them saying: “This is that one you know – it’s dope.”

“MOVIMIENTO” off of his latest EP release is my current hyper fixation, and once it started, I vaguely recall telling the friends I came with “I’m about to go full monkey.” I cannot emphasize enough just how pleasing to the ears this man’s music is, and how there is a little bit of something for everyone in all of his discography. There’s a reason fans ride or die for him, and it was felt in the room when green B.A.P lightsticks and phone flashlights lit up the room for his final setlist track, “Green.” The lyrics are very reassuring and sweet, emphasizing a place of comfort and a shoulder to lean on in hard times, and many fans especially love the title being a nod to the official color of B.A.P’s fandom. Yongguk watched with relaxed shoulders as the crowd showered him with love, a look of pure gratitude on his face as he bowed, thanking fans and heading backstage.

But it didn’t end there – after disappearing beyond the velvet curtain, Yongguk and DJ Babynine returned rocking tour merch and vibing into an encore set. “BUSS IT DOWN” made a reappearance, as well as “야해 (Ya),” “Rain On Me” and “Orange Drive,” and at that point it was a full-blown party. He took special time to laugh with the crowd and thank everyone for coming out, swapped hats and beanies with lucky fans in the front row, even messing with videos and photos by doing cute poses and throwing water on himself and the crowd. My friends and I took part in the revelry, holding heart emojis and kind messages in Korean on our phones up by our foreheads and absolutely losing it every time he pointed and sang his lyrics directly to us. He was a class act, finally taking his bow to an eruption of cheers and officially closing out what was close to a two-hour showcase.

Bang Yongguk’s legacy means far more than a name on a marquee – his artistry not only reflects the early tenacious fire of his humble beginnings but has only developed and matured as time goes on. An artist who has never been afraid of vulnerability and pushing boundaries, Yongguk’s sound and style transcend every venue space into a raw retelling of his inner self. Fans see someone who has dealt with public scrutiny and underestimation, has admitted to personal struggles involving depression, anxiety, imposter syndrome, and even life-ending thoughts, and has chosen again and again to overcome every odd with a vengeance. An industry rarity, Yongguk not only wears his entire heart on his sleeve but invites fans to take a piece of it with them after each and every performance.

We would like to thank BANG YONGGUK’s team for inviting Genius Korea to his show. Be sure to check out his latest album 3 on all streaming platforms with lyrics here on Genius!

Follow BANG YONGGUK on X (Twitter) and Instagram for regular updates about his music.

Follow Genius Korea on X (Twitter) and Instagram for regular updates about Korean music, dramas, and entertainment.

#240423 #yongguk #concert #III #article #USA #b.a.p

[cornucopiaradio]

I always really liked this #shortstory by Henry Slesar, which was first published in 'Amazing Stories' magazine in 1957. So a few years ago I decided to create this lovely #audiodrama #audiofiction version. You can listen to the whole production here & read the short story below.

----------

CREDITS:

Written by Henry Slesar

Performed by David Ault, Lucas Webley & AlwaysSlightlySleepy

Edited and Produced by Peter Beeston

Sound Effects via: http://Freesound.org

Music Track: Francesco – Esprit De L’arbre 2

http://cornucopia-radio.co.uk/reluctant-genius/ 

----------

RELUCTANT GENIUS

By Henry Slesar (slightly adapted by Peter Beeston)

As they both sped through the ionosphere of the green planet, Buos was still trying to chastise Laloi, but like the airy, formless creature she was, Laloi ignored the criticism. Rippling zephyr-like, through a clump of daffodils as they completed their descent.

"So pretty," she sighed, flinging her incorporeal substance around each flower, absorbing their unified beauty of scent, sight, and feel. Buos shrilled himself into a column of wind, expressing his displeasure at her attitude.

"Stupid, silly, shallow thing!" he said. "If the others only knew how you behaved..."

"And you'll be glad to tell them, of course," she said, extending her fingers of air into the roots of the wind-bent grass. She rolled across the hill ecstatically, and Buos followed in grumbling billows of energy.

"I don't carry tales," he replied, somewhat mortified. "But we're here as observers, and you insist upon making this world a plaything ..."

"I love it," she said happily. "It's so warm and green."

Buos whipped in front of her angrily. "This is an assignment," he snapped, his emotion crackling the air about him. "We have a purpose here."

"Purpose!" she groaned, settling over a patch of crowded clover. "How many centuries will this assignment last?"

"This world is young," said Buos. "It will take time."

"But how long?" she asked mournfully. "Our world will be shrivelled and dead before these people have the knowledge to rescue us. Why can't we spend all our lives here?"

"And leave the others behind?" said Buos stiffly. "Selfish being," he said sadly. "This world cannot support one-fourth our number."

"Oh, I know, I know," Laloi said. "I do not mean to say such things, but I am twisted by my sorrow..." As if to express her self-abnegation, she corkscrewed out of the clover and into a thin spiral of near-nothingness.

"Settle down, foolish one," said Buos, not unkindly. "I know your feelings. Do you think I’m not tormented as well by the slow pace of these Earth-things and their crude barbaric ways? They are like children, playing with the building blocks of science. They have such a long way to go ..."

"And so few know," said Laloi despairingly. "Only a handful of seeing minds and millions of ignorant ones. Not even first principles, they're stupid, stupid!"

"But they will learn," Buos said stubbornly. "That is historical fact. Someday, they will know the true meanings of matter and light and energy. Slowly, yes, slowly. But in terms of their growth, it will seem like such great speed to them ..."

"And in terms of our world?" said Laloi, spinning sadly over the ground, "they might be far too late ..."

"No!" In his excitement, Buos forgot himself and entwined with the flowing form of the she-creature, and the result was a rending of the air that crackled and sparked like lightning over the field. "No," he repeated again. "They must not be too late. They must learn. They must build up from the very ground itself, and then they must fly. Then their eyes must be lifted to the stars, and their desire must extend to the whole universe"

"But it seems so hopeless..."

"It cannot be! Our destiny is not extinction. They must come to us, in fleets of silver, and replant our soil, and send towers of green shooting into our sky, breathing out air."

"Yes, yes!" Laloi cried wantingly. "It will be that way, Buos. It will be that way! Look, that man-creature there. Underneath the tree of apple. We will begin with him ..."

Buos floated towards the ground disconsolately. "He is only a dreamer," he said cheerlessly. "His spirit is good; he thinks of tomorrow. He is one of the knowing ones. But he cannot be moved, Laloi. His thoughts will fester and die in the prison of his own mind"

"No, they can’t! We have watched him. He understands much. He can help us!"

"I have seen his like before," said Buos hopelessly. "Yes, he thinks and he works, but his conclusions will remain unformed. All for the lack of a moving force ..."

"Then let us provide it, Buos. Let us move him! For this empty watchfulness will surely destroy me. Please let us try""

"With what?" said the other hopelessly. "Arms of nothing? Hands of vacuum? A breeze against his cheek? A rustle of leaves? A meaningless whistle in his ear?"

"I can feel it within him. He knows, he knows!" said Laloi excitingly. "But he has to find a way to say 'this is so because' and 'this must happen when'. A new way for him to think. A new way for him to understand..."

They hovered over his head, in a pandemonium of helplessness. They whirled, and tumbled through the leaves. Madly circling again and again; until finally to Laloi, inspiration came...

An apple, caught by a sudden gust of wind, twisted from the tenuous hold of the tree and fell to the ground next to him.

The man, startled, picked it up.

He gazed at it, deep in thought and slowly... a new theory started to grow.

#SciFi #Aliens #History #IsaacNewton #VoiceActing #Nature #Video #Montage #Wind #Relaxing #SFX #Audiobook #shortstory #Short Story #amazing stories #magazine #50s

[devandahlcourte-work-in-progress]

Section 6. three chapters, ending with chapter 29

I am reposting these first eighty-two chapters (in 22 sections) plus the prologue and the preface.

These posts will be the updated versions from my DeviantArt account, and since Tumblr may not display all the text correctly (it destroys anything I had in italics or underlined) I would still recommend reading everything there, on DeviantArt. They will also include internal links that navigate between the chapters on DeviantArt and will take the reader off Tumblr if clicked.

This came about because I noticed search engines were finding random sections of my book and displaying them along with some other people’s blog posts.

Okay, so that’s why I installed those internal links in each one… so that if anyone gets to a random section by way of a search engine and would like to read the story from the beginning, they can.

Only then did I realize that it wasn’t getting it’s search results from DeviantArt, but from old Tumblr.

There’s another problem at work here besides unrefined searches…

There is a new species of virus on the internet that likes to eat ancient Tumblr posts and barf them back up infested with adware - spyware - malware etc. The virus goes by names like TumGIR, TumBIG, TumPIK, or Tum(anything else but ‘blr’). The caps were added by me for emphasis so that maybe you can double check in case you’re not looking at an actual Tumblr post right now but one of these so-called “mirror” sites.

If you’re looking at this text through one of the counterfeit Tumblrs that I mentioned, then no link you click (assuming it even copies it with my links intact) will take you out; it will redirect you and show you all of the spam ads it wants to. So read carefully what url is showing on your browser right now.

If it is one of the untrustworthy ones I would suggest closing your browser window and doing whatever else you normally would in order to reset settings.

As far as my science fiction novel entitled “If And Only If,” the safest way to find it is by going to my Instagram:

@michelle.de.vandahlcourte

From there you can click on the link in my bio. It will take you to the beginning of the story on DeviantArt… the safe one! No malware.

P.S. None of this is Tumblr’s fault! It’s the malware/adware/spyware developers who are stealing people’s tumblr posts.

The actual content of this page appears below here👇

Section 6. three chapters, ending with chapter 29

↩️return to previous section, section 5

↩️↩️…and if you arrived here because of a search engine and you would like to read this story from the beginning, click here.

Padmanabhan

It had to be fake! Right?

Citizen Padmanabhan had spent every spare moment of his time as a biochemistry major – which was not too much trouble since biochem and most other subjects were incredibly easy for the boy genius – tracking down the information he needed. Not just the original video files, but everything relevant to the technology. That included everything he could learn about cryptomancer.

“So you could believe one of two things,”

he explained to Eric: “either Alex flew into the parking lot at Wokkon The Wild Side on a flying saucer ‪at 4:30‬ in the morning in moonshine county Kentucky, commanded a giant taco to come to life, rip the roof off the restaurant, cause many food items to levitate out of the restaurant and into the saucer… then Alex reboarded the flying saucer, with the recently animated taco and flew away. Then moments later Prajina came riding in on a bicycle that she borrowed from a DJ called Yonderboy, was met by a larger flying saucer, and was beamed aboard – original Star Trek style…”

OR:

“Someone has hacked the invincible Cryptomancer™️ protocol. An equally fantastic notion, but far more down to earth.”

That meant that the hackers had decided to simulate Alex and Prajina. He was once again automatically ruling out the possibility that they were the hackers. But there was additional weirdness. Alex had lost some weight recently and had found it necessary to start wearing a belt with all of his favorite jeans. He had forgotten the belt on this trip when they left Missouri ‪Thursday morning‬, so he was slightly tugging on his pants to pull them up; a new mannerism for him. The video showed him doing this.

Prajina had gotten a new hairstyle just five days earlier – a “bob with bangs” she called it – and decided to wear huge hoop earrings with the look. She was habitually checking them to see if the backings had fallen off. They were bigger, she said, than any earrings she had ever worn before. They knew to include this new mannerism in her video simulation as well.

That was odd. The programming of these kinds of simulations took time. Either someone observed the two before they left on the road trip… Or they observed them on the afternoon when they arrived for the rave, the day before they had disappeared both on video and for real, and then programmed their simulations with incredible speed!

Then Eric interjected something, not too surprising for an old Sierra Clubber like him, that halfway made sense: Venus. The environmentalists had been all up in arms when Eric was in preschool. His biological parents were supposedly among the leading protesters. He remembered it reasonably clearly since it was one of his more vivid memories from before they were arrested and imprisoned (over completely different and unrelated incidents). And before the court placed him in the care of “the hicks,” as he derisively referred to his mom’s cousins.

“Don’t nuke Venus,” the activists warned!

Experts ridiculed their protests.

You are not going to make space more radioactive. It would be like worrying that someone adding a single grain of salt to the Pacific Ocean was going to make the water too salty. And in their defense, after 21+ years, it appeared the experts were mostly right. No solar system-wide environmental catastrophe had befallen us. But Eric analyzed it on a new level: what if extraterrestrial intelligences were watching us? Humans had been putting small amounts of matter into space for about a century and a half, and that included things with radioactive isotopes in the payloads. But it was always either for power generation or for research. That is, until the Cytherean terraforming operation.

What would alien observers think of us then? Sure, Venus was uninhabited. But what if humans one day were to use this technique on a planet where there was already sentient life? “It might look to them like we were the evil empire from Star Wars, using our Death Star,” Eric ventured. “It might cause them to go poking around in our business much more deeply than before.”

Okay, maybe. But his chain of logic was about to snap! How exactly would that increased attention, paid to us as a species, cause them to bring a taco to life for Alex? Rajan brought his eyes back into focus as he disconnected from the head-wire virtual sensorium rig and attempted to look around at “reality” again. He had exceeded the recommended maximum time like always. No problem, though.

Alright, maybe a bit of a problem. It really had a weird effect on him this time: the wallpaper in their not-so-cheap-as-the-last-one apartment seemed to be taking on an almost three dimensional character for just a moment. It was like those visual stunts where they bodypainted people to match some kind of background and if they stood still and you weren’t looking carefully, they might be camouflaged. Except these things didn’t look like people; they were more like rectangular sections of the wall. And they didn’t maintain perfect stillness. It was as though he caught them moving slightly – and shimmering a bit the way the Predator had done in the jungle in the classic movie.

About two blinks took care of it and the after-effect was gone. Rajan did make a mental note chastising himself for not heeding the manufacturer’s warnings... and for pushing himself to go without sleep for way too many hours now. It was definitely time to turn in. Or at least go for a nap.

A nap it was. His ideas woke him. One in particular. Of course it was an absurd idea. But only absurd ideas were going to have a chance of being right in this matter; every “hacker” he had consulted with, especially ones who dealt in this kind of video technology, had been of the opinion that the current Cryptomancer™️ protocol was unhackable. Unless…

Unless it was an “inside job.” If a team of software engineers at the company – and it would have to be several – could construct a back door that was undetectable, it might happen.

Why? He hypothesized: Industrial espionage perhaps? If a “vulnerability” was revealed, then another company, say XYZ Incorporated, could pop up and introduce their version of anti video-fraud software that would be truly invincible. It was very flimsy logic; too easy to poke holes in a plot like that. But if he was right and something like that was going on? Then why hadn’t they made their move yet? The taco animation and Alex & Prajina’s disappearances had occurred a few years ago. If it was good enough to fool law enforcement already, then why not put the rest of their plan into action and start raking in the centibillions?

So Padmanabhan reluctantly went looking for any correlations between the Cytherean terraforming nuke incident and UFO sightings on Earth. What he found gave him new respect for Eric‘s wacky theories. Eric was an artist and fashion designer, and not normally helpful in technical matters. Was there a correlation? Try fifteen minutes apart!

The actual time of detonation had been secret, and the subject of misinformation. They detonated the warheads- - - um, “shaped nuclear charges,” that is - - - days before they were even supposed to be in orbit around Venus. There was concern that a group of hackers working with environmentalists might try to sabotage the orbital mechanics computers, as they had attempted to sabotage ground-based computers before the launches of certain payloads.

When it happened, no one amongst the general public knew that anything special had gone on. They didn’t know to have false UFO sightings because their imaginations were running wild with them. But the only sightings in that fifteen minute lapse, were over the counties of Kentucky that basically formed a ring around where the rave was in 2137!!!

So, 18 years earlier… One of the most colossal endeavors ever undertaken by humans in space kicked off with nearly 32 Giga tonnes of thermonuclear devices going off.

The exact amount was evidently classified. From hacking Alex‘s Diaryworld he saw that mathboy had done a calculation indicating that it had to be higher and explained why, but never had any reason to share that with Padmanabhan whom he barely knew at that time.

Alright, yeah, a big blast either way. Fifteen minutes later a rash of UFO sightings- over 170 of them – centered around that thing Alex and his friends had called hell-hole as kids. Incidentally, the US government placed a geostationary satellite over the area for reasons that, frankly, made no sense at the time. Then Prajina, Padmanabhan, and Alex were all born within the next month, in that order; probably not related to the UFO business and except for Alex, in far away parts of the country. And after 18 years, we have a rave there. That same night, there’s UFO-type activity again.

Or so it would appear. It was too suspicious not to be true. But if it was true it meant that Rajan had spent the last three years of his life becoming an expert on a sub-discipline of cyber security now regarded as mundane amongst professionals in that field, for no particular reason. It would also, if true, mean that his chances of finding A&P just dropped to zero. The only hope of finding them might be for he himself to be abducted by aliens. A frightening thought. Or was it? Alex seemed very at ease in the “video,” if we are now regarding it as an actual video and not a simulation. It wasn’t possible to tell what Prajina’s reaction was; the beaming process, it seemed, was just a bit faster than on Star Trek TOS.

Going over the details of the sinkhole’s formation was about tied for 20th on his list of things to do. But for some reason it beckoned to Rajan.

Alex

Computer hacking skills. Girls only want boyfriends with skills. Was that the exact quote from Napoleon Dynamite? Something close. That was one he hadn’t been able to go see again in theaters when it “first” came out. Alex was not a skilled computer hacker in his time. He felt silly doing this. But in 2018 cybersecurity was bucolic to say the least. Laughable protection measures that he could easily defeat with some apps from his “phone.”

His phone that he had brought back with him from 2137, that is. During his mid-20s, when many of the locals were worried about the nonexistent threat of Y2K, he’d spent a year making electronics his number one hobby and built an interface that would allow him to access the files and apps on his phone that didn’t require nonexistent – here in the past – networks or accessories.

So now, hacking into hotel security video, registration lists, street cameras, and even Uber was a simple as tapping apps on an iPhone XR that he was using as an interface to access the brain of his real phone.

There would be nothing on a phone to physically “tap” or “swipe” of course, in his time. But since medical doctors of the day might notice the implants, he early-on asked the taco to temporarily remove them. Now he tapped and swiped away on ancient touch screen devices just like his great-great-grandparents did.

There would be no trail for even the NSA of this time to follow. He had, as usual, a modulated beam of neutrinos at two points and two underground detectors at two other points. His routed signal originating in Tucson, transformed into an encoded pulsed beam, would pass through the Earth’s core and mantle then come out in Thessaly. The return signal beam would enter the Earth in Surrey and emerge in Buenos Aires. If the devil himself had a neutrino detector, he might be able to eavesdrop on Alex’s signals and then spend the next few millennia trying to decrypt them.

What he found was more shocking than a real meeting with the mythological creature: the Prajina look-alike / potential ancestor, had registered under the name Prajina Opulus. As far as anyone could tell, no one‘s last name was actually “Opulus.” It was an inside joke.

An inside joke from the future! Count Mippipopolous. A relatively minor character from “The Sun Also Rises.” In high school Prajina had both read the book and seen the 1984 movie version that book fans mostly hated – the one with Jane Seymour – before Alex had done either. She commented that his role has been greatly expanded in the movie.

Alex, who hadn’t gotten far in the book at all, didn’t understand when she said his name and thought she said “count Mrs. Opulus.”

To be fair to young Alex, there was marching band practice going on, on the other side of the parking lot outside of their school where they were standing. It was hilarious to her at the time because she used to kid him about slacking off in the non-technical subjects, i.e. not math or math intensive, and he had just assured her again that he wouldn’t fall behind in his reading. The conclusion, as a favorite author of his childhood once phrased it, hit him “like a hammer blow over the solar plexus!” Prajina had come back in time also! It wasn’t an ancestor, it was actually her! But young. She looked just like he remembered from their pre-frosh summer program at university.

Then his heart gave a grinding thud like someone trying to shift gears too quickly. Changing history? That damned silly taco! The one that he had been trying – with limited success – to hide in Berkeley? She was likely sent back to contact him. But why now? Why not be waiting for him at the Cow Palace concert back in ‘91 to stop him from doing whatever it was he wasn’t supposed to do?

His Cerebral Phosphorescence

(Author’s note to readers: this historical account contains details about the way the late 20th century-to-early 21st century NSA operates. Or at least it did. If representatives of that agency found this information and decided to filter it for security purposes, the versions you are about to read may or may not have been edited to omit certain technical details. Since by the time anyone reads this I will have already returned to my own time, universe, and timeline… I can neither confirm nor deny that this is the way the actual NSA in your timeline conducts its business. Nor will they!)

“Job description? You know that’s classified,” he tried to grin, sadistically perhaps, but just didn’t have it in him. He was too much of an all around nice guy. “Officially, neither of our jobs exists. So is it within the scope of my job? It is, if I say it is, Ghost-in-the-Machine,” he winked.

The ghost handed a Zip disk with one-time pad keys to the cryptographer known as “His Cerebral Phosphorescence.” A routine part of the way they communicated in these situations. What was going on in his mind was beyond traffic analysis. This was more esoteric; having to do with correlations. Correlations between unrelated patterns of traffic. Or at least patterns that should have been unrelated.

It would be as if every time a traffic light turned red at a particular intersection in Los Angeles, a group of students were seen coming out of a building at a university in Louisiana on foot. There would be absolutely NO logical reason to think the two phenomena were related. If there seemed to be a correlation, for example let’s say every time the light in LA turned red, at least seven students exited a building 1900 miles away, but no students exited when it was green? You would look for some other mechanism. Something else must be responsible for the foot traffic variations, right? Something with the same timing as the traffic light cycle, like maybe an elevator in the building?

But what if you couldn’t find the mechanism? Then what if you sent a crew to turn off the traffic signal and the foot traffic mysteriously stops also? It’s just suspicious. So maybe you dig deeper? That’s what the ghost was doing.

But this was much more subtle.

Things were connected that were not supposed to be connected.

Patterns of communication – on the surface, completely mundane matters being discussed amongst civilians between New England and Kentucky – were coinciding with power grid drains in Arizona, and being followed by signals in Lárisa, Greece. They were then sent to Lisbon, then immediately followed by power grid fluctuations at Surrey in the UK, followed by communications between Buenos Aires and an island in the Caribbean, followed by digitally encrypted _____________ (agent’s thoughts redacted) _____________ ____________ ______________ be received in the southern United States.

It reminded him of that scene from Sneakers where their silly map was depicting how the supposedly untraceable signal was bouncing all over the world. (And btw, haha, he thought! We eventually traced it anyway, even in that fictionalized film account!) Except this featured an added layer of complexity, probably involving parts of the signal being transmitted in non-electronic form.

If Swifty was right... what would you even call these signals? Neutronic? No. That would mean neutrons were involved and they’d be virtually all stopped within the first few feet of lithosphere. Neutrinoionic? Maybe neutrino-esque? A syntactic detail which he could ponder later. Back to the point:

It was complete uncorrelated nonsense to anyone but the ghost. But it was always the same order. So he knew it must mean something. Still, the ghost was technically the student and His Cerebral Phosphorescence, the master. So like the young padawan learner, he politely brought Obi-Wan his findings first – before declaring what his conclusion was.

Obi Wan smiled more warmly this time and told the padawan to write down his conclusion in one or two sentences on a paper towel but not show it yet. The ghost obliged him using his own pale skinny forearm as an improvised writing surface. Obi Wan’s pronouncement finally came, with head slightly shaking: “someone – likely within our borders – is doing some hacking, and has found a way to make himself truly untraceable, even to us.”

Ominously, he looked at the ghost’s paper towel and saw that his student’s conclusion was essentially the same. The paper towel was torn carefully into tiny pieces and placed into a mason jar marked “Chia head seeds,” which appeared to contain tea or coffee. It reminded him of an old revolutionary war trick.

“If we’re right, these people are using masers or some kind of unidirectional beam to communicate with satellites,” his boss pronounced, looking somehow regal at his makeshift Rubbermaid table-desk inside the secure area. “Analyze what’s in orbit that would be accessible from these places, see when it was launched and by whom, and if the dates work with your intercepted ‘communiques’.”

“What if we’re looking in the wrong direction with satellites, sir? What if it’s going through the earth?” The ghost in the machine was entertaining flights of fancy, but felt he had to try again.

“We would’ve detected seismic waves that powerful, and you checked, right?” Obi Wan paused with a furrowed brow. Ghost nodded and hesitantly said yes.

“You’re not going down the neutrino trail again, are you Swifty?” He had recently re-read The Particle Hunters by Yuval Ne’emen and Yoram Kirsh. The ghost read everything. He of course had memorized all of the Stainless Steel Rat novels as a kid. “Yes sir, I am” was his immediate reply.

The power grid drains could be due to particle accelerators of some type, they agreed. But it would have to be a type of equipment currently unknown to them. Neutrino detectors though huge, could be concealed underground. But it was tilting at windmills, Obi-Wan cautioned. “We’re not working on the X-Files here. Pursue the more conventional options now,” he eruditely intoned.

The entire office was a modified SCIF at Camp Pickett, Virginia. So during secure meetings like this, an old-fashioned knock from outside was about all one might dare attempt. The knock which would naturally need to be for a damned good reason, was discovered to have four good reasons. Technically, five. The first four were naked people; three men and one woman. The fifth item was some emergency radio chatter from secure digital channels of a metropolitan police department in the US.

Four naked people had been apprehended in four different international cities on two continents, all within 30 minutes of each other. All of them, it seemed, claimed to be police officers from San Francisco in the United States and could not explain either their nudity or how they came to be found in the cities. One was babbling something about a giant burrito ripping his police cruiser apart. Just for kicks, the listening post techs had patched into SFPD‘s communications and sure enough, they were all buzzing about four missing officers who were not reporting in and had all gone radio-silent at the same moment. Three male, one female.

While it was not at all strange or impossible for a person to be abducted and transported to another city far away, the fact that it was only 15 minutes from their moment of disappearance to the first report of discovery in a city that involved intercontinental travel, was what experienced intelligence analysts called “weird.” Did they have their own private space shuttles? Or had another tetrad of SFPD officers disappeared earlier? That’s why it was brought to Obi Wan’s attention, just to get his take on it.

It was in fact, weirder than the analysts were ever aware of. The four cities or regions to which the nude cops had been sent were Lárisa, Lisbon, Surrey, and Buenos Aires. The term “traffic analysis” just took on an added new dimension.

Continue on to next section…

If And Only If

Copyright 2015

by Michelle Viviénne de Vandahlcourte

All rights reserved.

No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

First Edition. © December 16, 2015.