#another one for the where it all began compilation boys

[on-this-day-mcr]

On this day, July 23

In 2002: My Chemical Romance released their first studio album, "I Brought You My Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love", with producer Geoff Rickly. (🖤)

Stream "I Brought You My Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love" here!

[vanteguccir]

8 minutes of cute moments | Matt Sturniolo

Matt Sturniolo x reader

Summary: Where a fan made an 8-minute video with a compilation of Matt and Y/N being in love.

Warning: None.

Requested?: Yes, by anons, @myfavoritesstuff, @dracoflaco and @ecliphttlunar

Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

8 minutes of cute moments between Matt Sturniolo and his girlfriend, Y/N.

1st minute - "Trying Japanese snacks with our parents!!!":

The triplets were recording a video where they tried different snacks from Japan, and their parents were participating of it as guests, just like Y/N - which was nothing new, since the girl made at least a small appearance in every video from the triplets channel.

The six of them were around one side of the kitchen table, and all the snacks that would be used in the video rested on it. Y/N stood next to Mary Lou with her head resting on her shoulder, while the woman's left arm wrapped around her waist affectionately.

Matt was explaining to the camera about the snack they were going to eat next, when the girl raised her head slightly, pointing with her left hand at the only glass of water on the table, which was in front of Mary Lou.

"It's yours, right? Can I have a sip, please?" The girl asked her mother-in-law, receiving a big smile and a nod in response.

"Of course, go ahead!"

Y/N smiled back, picking the glass and taking a generous sip. Before she could take another one, Chris suddenly interrupted her, cutting off Matt's sentence.

"Someone's invisalign is in that water." Chris pointed to the glass, raising his eyebrows in surprise when he saw his sister-in-law drinking the water from there.

Y/N stopped her hand holding the glass in the air, her eyes widening comically as her cheeks puffed out in embarrassment.

"What?" Her voice came out high-pitched, her eyes going from Chris to the glass repeatedly.

"Oh my God, babe, it was mine!" Matt pointed out, a laugh escaping his mouth, followed by Mary Lou, who curved her spine slightly as she laughed, trying to apologize.

"Ew, ew, ew." Y/N mumbled repeatedly, dropping the glass on the table with a loud clinck. She began her steps towards the sink, ready to give her mouth a thorough rinse.

Her steps were interrupted by Matt, who lightly pulled her into his arms, hugging her from behind. His arms wrapped around her waist as he rested his chin on her head, an amused look still in his eyes.

Y/N let out a groan, trying to free herself from Matt's arms, wanting to clean her mouth.

"No need for all that, baby. You've had worse in your mouth." Matt threw, his voice loud enough for everyone there to hear.

Nick let out a dramatic scream, covering his ears with his hands quickly, a look of fear taking over his features. Chris's eyes widened momentarily before laughter escaped his mouth, followed by Jimmy, who patted Matt's shoulder. Mary Lou raised her eyebrows at the couple, shaking her head playfully.

Y/N opened her mouth in surprise, her eyes widening as she stopped fighting against his hold. She felt her face burn with embarrassment, her mind still processing what her boyfriend had just blurted out in front of his parents, siblings, and camera.

"Matt!"

"I'm kidding, baby. I'm sorry." Matt said, his tone full of amusement, showing that he wasn't sorry at all for what he said.

The brunette lowered his face, resting his right cheek on Y/N's right shoulder with his face toward her neck, sealing her jaw repeatedly, exhaling the natural scent of her skin as he tightened his arms around her, throwing a playful wink towards the camera.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

2nd minute - Silent treatment:

The triplets and Y/N were at Target buying the drinks that the boys would use in the channel's next video. Nick had his vlog camera in hand, recording bits of their little trip, just like they used to do.

The four of them had decided to split up to optimize their time, as Y/N needed to get some things that had run out at their house. With that, Y/N and Matt went one way, while Nick and Chris went the other.

At some point, Y/N approached Chris and Nick with a giant pout on her lips and arms crossed, her heavy steps against the floor drawing their attention.

"Uh oh, what happened?" Nick asked upon noticing her upset expression, focusing the camera lens on her face while frowning in confusion.

"Matt is ignoring me." Her pout deepened, her eyes dropping to the floor momentarily. "I just wanted to get a Diet Coke, but he said we would get that later and that the focus now was on the video stuff." She explained in a defeated tone. "But I said I felt like it, and he told me to stay quiet and just do what you said, and then he started ignoring me and giving me the silent treatment-"

The sound of approaching footsteps interrupted her, her eyes quickly looking up to the source of it, seeing Matt approaching with a basket with 10 cans of assorted drinks, and at least 15 cans of Diet Coke.

Y/N's eyes filled with tears when she saw him and what he had picked, lowering her crossed arms and watching him with hopeful eyes.

"Matt! What did we talk about giving the silent treatment when you're mad?" Chris raised his eyebrows, resting his hands on his waist in a playfully confrontational gesture.

The brunette rolled his eyes, completely ignoring him and approaching his girlfriend.

"I'm sorry, babe. It was childish of me to ignore you. But look, I got you a bunch of Diet Coke." Matt asked, lifting the basket with the cans before looking into Y/N's eyes, frowning in concern when he saw them teary. "Oh no, don't cry, pretty girl. I'm sorry."

Matt's tone was desperate, his hands dropping the basket onto the floor before wrapping around Y/N, pulling her into a tight hug. He pressed her head against his chest, lowering his own and sealing her temple for long seconds, whispering "I love you" repeatedly, pressing several kisses to the same spot.

"Ugh, how can you two be so disgusting even when you're fighting?" Nick's voice sounded from behind the camera, the lens shaking as he suddenly turned around, leaving that aisle and pulling Chris with him.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

3rd minute - Y/N's birthday:

It was Y/N's birthday, and at her own request, the celebration was being something small, just a little thing with her closest friends, at her house - which she shared with the triplets, one of them being her beloved boyfriend -, without alcoholic drinks, but with several different snacks and sweets, as well as a pink cake, heart shaped and covered in glitter.

It was time to sing the happy birthday song and Nick quickly fished his phone out of the back pocket of his baggy jeans, opening the camera and setting it to record, wanting to keep the memory forever.

"Baby, can you stay by my side?" Y/N asked in a low tone, her eyes focused on her boyfriend, Matt, as she was already standing behind the table in their kitchen.

The cake was in the center with two pink candles filled with pearls in the shape of her new age on top, surrounded by sweets and snacks, as well as several drinks filled with edible glitter and dishes in different shades of pink.

Matt smiled at her request, his cheeks taking on a reddish color in shyness and love, walking over to his girlfriend and positioning himself next to her, his arm wrapping around her waist automatically.

"Wait, let me light it." The brunette interrupted Y/N's next movements, who was ready to light the candles.

Matt quickly did so before straightening up, nodding as he heard everyone start singing the "Happy birthday" song, while clapping and smiling at the couple.

The boy tightened his arm around Y/N, lowering his head so that his lips approached the side of her forehead, sealing her skin for a long time while humming the song along with everyone.

"Happy birthday, pretty girl."

It was Y/N's birthday, but it was Matt who was getting an amazing gift for the fifth year in a row.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

4th minute - Guess the triplets by zoom in pics:

The triplets were finishing the video where they had limited time rounds to guess who it was in the photos shown, just by a small part of their body or face.

"Before we finish, we want to do something different. We'll call Y/N so she can play a round alone. But the trick is: we'll tell her that these are random photos of the three of us, but actually, we'll just show photos of me." Matt explained in a low tone, his face closer to the camera so that the lens captured his words, an eager smile decorating his face.

While the brunette talked to the lens, Chris did the job of calling Y/N and explaining what she would have to do, taking her into the frame after Matt finished speaking.

Y/N smiled slightly at the camera, waving quickly before sitting down in one of the two chairs set up behind the table, keeping her arms on the wooden surface and looking at the triplets expectantly.

"Okay, Y/N, are you ready?" Nick began, scrolling his thumb through the separate photos in a folder in his phone's gallery, before clicking on one. He zoomed in on an almost unrecognizable area, turning the device towards Y/N, showing her the screen. "Who's-"

"Matt." Y/N interrupted Nick abruptly, slamming her hand on the table right after, momentarily forgetting that she needed to tap there before saying the answer.

Chris raised his eyebrows from behind the camera, approaching Nick and looking at the photo quickly over his right shoulder, before taking the device from his hand and searching for the next picture, looking for one that was just as difficult.

"Okay, you got it right, but that one was too easy. Let's see something different." Chris smiled sideways, covering the phone screen with his free hand so that no one but himself could see what he was doing.

Matt rolled his eyes, smirking as his eyes met Y/N's, watching her cheeks take on a red hue under his intense gaze.

A few seconds later, Chris finally chose the photo, zooming in on the area most unlikely to be recognized before doing the same process as Nick, showing it to Y/N.

The girl looked at it for a few milliseconds before slamming the same hand on the table.

"Matt. Again." She smiled smugly, lifting her chin in the air in pride.

Matt let out a loud laugh, clapping his hands momentarily, entering the camera frame, and walking up to his girlfriend's back.

He leaned forward slightly, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and laying his head in the crook of her neck, before repeatedly kissing her cheek.

Y/N smiled in shyness at his loving gestures, feeling confused by the sudden actions.

"I said my girlfriend knew me as well as I knew myself." Matt spoke to his brothers behind the camera, smiling into the lens in excitement.

"Wait, was that a prank?"

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

5th minute - "We bought the zoo for a day":

The triplets and Y/N were at the zoo for 24 hours, a way of thanking the fans of the Sturniolo Triplets channel for making them reach 6 million subscribers.

Y/N felt over the moon, having grown up with a huge passion for all types of animals, made her enthusiasm triple every time her eyes met a different animal, dangerous or not.

The four were in the zoo's tour car, accompanied by their guide, who stopped in front of certain groups of animals from time to time and briefly explained their species and main characteristics.

Nick and Chris, who were sitting in the seats behind the front ones, listened intently to the guide as they recorded themselves and their surroundings, often focusing the lens on the couple in the seats behind them, Y/N and Matt.

Matt nodded his head every few minutes, wanting to show the guide through the rearview mirror that he was listening to him and understanding his explanation, while his eyes fixed on each of the animals shown.

A huge smile decorated his face, accompanied by his pupils that seemed to shine bright. Y/N's right arm was around his waist, keeping him close.

Her hand caressed his covered skin lightly, gently squeezing it every time she felt him jump in place excitedly, or when he simply waved at the animals, whispering "hi" or "bye's".

God, how she loved him.

The camera, focused on Nick at the moment, captured the image of the two in the background, recording the cuteness of the couple, who seemed to be in candy land.

Y/N leaned into Matt's side from time to time, her pupils dilating as they ran over his excited, awe-like features. She sealed her lips over his cheeks and jaw every minute, whispering against his skin how much she loved him and adored seeing him that happy.

The girl also laid her head on Matt's right shoulder sometimes, squeezing her arm around him and pulling him closer - if that was even possible.

That only intensified Matt's happiness, who smiled so big that his eyes closed, shrugging his shoulders in shyness and enthusiasm.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

6th minute - Disgustingly cute:

Nick and Chris were in the living room as they spoke to the camera, explaining what they would do in that vlog, which would be posted next Wednesday.

Chris remembered that they had to call for Matt, commenting that the boy was still in his room and that they had been calling for him for over 20 minutes already.

Nick rolled his eyes, muttering something like "I don't know what I did to deserve this shit" in an ironic tone, walking quickly to Matt's bedroom door, turning the camera so that the lens captured the environment inside.

His free hand worked on turning the handle, pushing it quickly, hoping to give Matt a scare.

He just didn't expect to see Y/N still lying in bed - which left him confused, as he imagined that the girl would already be at the market, since there were some things that had run out on their house and she told him that she would get new ones while they were filming.

The girl was dressed in the clothes she would wear to go out, her makeup and hair done, and her face carrying a defeated expression. Meanwhile, Matt was lying on top of her, all of his weight against Y/N's body.

His face was buried in the crook of her neck, only the sight of curly brown hair apparent. His back rose and fell slowly, on the rhythm of his calm breath.

Matt's body was covered by the sweatshirt set he would be wearing for the video, and Nick quickly understood that they were ready for the day, Y/N about to leave, when Matt interrupted her for a lovey dovey session.

Y/N had her eyes closed and a smile resting on her face, seeming to dive into the moment. Her right hand was in Matt's hair, and her fingers threaded through his curls, massaging his scalp. While her left hand was on his back, traveling from his shoulders down to the small of his back, and back up again.

Every second, it was possible to see Matt moving his head slightly, and a sound of lips sealing against skin sounded throughout the room, making it clear that he was kissing Y/N's cheek or neck.

Whispers of "I love you" and sweet nothings were occasionally released from their lips.

"Matt, I'm going to fire you if you don't get up now and do your job." Nick's voice sounded like thunder between the four walls, scaring the couple.

Matt quickly sat down between Y/N's legs, turning towards the door with wide eyes, while Y/N opened her own eyes abruptly, her right hand flying to her chest, feeling her heart racing under her skin.

"You are crazy." Matt shook his head, moving to get up from the bed, casting a sad glance at Y/N, longing to return to her arms.

"And you guys are disgusting." Chris added, smiling roguishly, letting it know that it was a joke. "Y/N makes Matt a softie. She has him on a leash, I swear."

"Shut up, Chris."

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

7th minute - Gamer boyfriend:

Y/N felt her shoulders heavy from the extremely busy day at work. All the tasks placed on her duty made her almost go completely insane, and all her body asked for was her bed and her boyfriend's arms.

So when she got home, the first thing she did was go up the stairs and enter her shared room with Matt, her movements almost robotic and automatic.

The sound of voices echoed low from one of the corners of the room, and Y/N quickly noticed that Matt was sitting in his gaming chair, his arms resting on the computer desk as he played one of his addictive games.

His eyes were fixed on his computer screen, his ears covered by the headphones from which the voices were coming from.

Y/N smiled slightly, feeling her heart warm by finally seeing her boyfriend. She quickly grabbed a set of the boy's sweatshirts and left the room, going to the bathroom, where she took a shower faster than usual - just wanting to be able to sleep as soon as possible - and got dressed.

As soon as the girl entered their bedroom again, she noticed Matt talking into the microphone of his headphones, and she quickly understood that he was streaming, probably with his brothers and on Twitch.

Y/N walked slowly towards her boyfriend, touching his right shoulder lightly, alerting him to her presence.

Without the two noticing, the chat went crazy from the moment the girl appeared in the frame. Miscellaneous comments about her or the two of them as a couple were sent so quickly that if Matt were watching them, he wouldn't be able to read any.

Matt lifted his head quickly, lowering the headphones so that it would hang around his neck, a big, bright smile appearing on his face as his pupils instantly dilated.

"Hi baby! I didn't notice you coming." The brunette's voice came out in a low tone, his eyes taking note of his girlfriend's tired expression and tense shoulders, his eyebrows almost automatically furrowing in concern.

"I arrived just now, I just came in to get some clothes so I could take a shower." Y/N whispered in response.

Matt smiled as he saw his own clothes covering his girl's body. The boy lifted his arms, encircling her waist and pulling her closer, sealing his lips lightly over her covered waist.

"Do you want to go to sleep?" The brunette asked, tilting his head back so he could see her face, ready to just turn off his streaming if she said yes.

"I do, but I want to be with you more." Y/N spoke, raising her right hand quickly, interrupting Matt before he could even consider stopping his streaming. "I don't want you to stop it... Can I just sit on your lap while you play?" Her tone was vulnerable, her tired eyes looking into Matt's expectantly.

"Of course, my love. Always." Matt quickly responded, nodding his head as he moved slightly away from the table with the help of the soles of his feet against the floor, opening his arms, waiting for his girlfriend to fit between them.

Y/N smiled in gratitude, positioning herself between his thighs before sitting on his lap. She wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms hooking around his shoulders, getting comfortable.

She sealed her lips against his right cheek in a lingering kiss, stroking the soft skin with the tip of her nose, before laying her head in the crook of his neck, breathing heavily and finally closing her eyes.

Matt kissed the top of her head for some seconds, arranging his headphones against his own ears again, giving a shy smile to the camera.

His right hand traveled to the mouse, pressing play on the game again, while his left hand caressed Y/N's back, helping her get into dream land.

He felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment as he watched the chat go as fast as he thought it be possible, keeping his focus on the game.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

8th minute - "Trying and guessing 21 different drinks":

The triplets were recording the video that would be posted that Wednesday, where they had to try 21 different drinks - some that they are used to drinking every day, others that they have never even tasted - and guess what which one was.

Y/N was participating in the video as a special guest. She had a feeling she would do poorly at the task, since she wasn't used to drinking anything other than Diet Coke.

Nick had decided to leave her for last, telling her to rearrange the positions of all the drinks in each of the boys' rounds.

Soon, it was her turn. She cast a quick glance at Matt, concern and nervousness present in her expressions. The brunette just returned it with a quick wink, waving his hand as if to say "you can go", waiting for her to leave the kitchen so he could rearrange the drinks.

Before calling her back, Matt surreptitiously took a photo of the position of the drinks, quickly putting away his phone, finally calling for his girlfriend.

Y/N returned to the kitchen with a tense smile, stopping in front of the table and behind the drinks, looking at the triplets, waiting for them to give the go-ahead.

Given the start, the girl bent down to take a sip of the first drink, her expression brightening and her eyes instantly widening as she tasted her favorite drink.

"Diet Coke!" She quickly said after rising from her slightly bent position, pulling out the paper with the image of the soda.

"Okay..." Chris muttered, nodding his head in confirmation. They knew she'd get that one right since her obsession with the drink was as strong as Chris's obsession with Pepsi.

The girl bent down again to take a sip of the second drink, momentarily catching her throat before she could swallow the liquid, the horrible taste flooding her mouth.

She stood up abruptly, swallowing the contents roughly, looking at the brothers with a frown, receiving laughter in response. The girl stopped in front of the images for a few seconds, internally analyzing which one it could be.

Her fingers worked on pushing away the images of the drinks she had already drank before and was sure that wasn't the horrible thing she had just drank, staring firmly at the ones that she didn't know.

When her finger went towards one of them, the image of Matt moving his arm around caught her attention. She looked up and saw her boyfriend behind his brothers, trying to get her attention.

Matt, realizing that she noticed him calling out to her, discreetly pointed to the right image with his free hand, his other hand occupied by his phone, which was displaying the photo he took of the correct order of the drinks minutes before.

Y/N smirked, dodging the path her hand was going, picking up the right image and placing it in front of the corresponding straw.

That cycle remained throughout the process. Chris and Nick were in shock, even thinking about the possibility that Y/N had some kind of superpower..

While Matt had a discreet smile on his face, biting his bottom lip to stop the laugh from escaping every time he saw his brothers reaction or the way his girlfriend smiled like a mad woman.

Upon finishing her round, the girl stood in front of the table with her arms crossed, a convinced expression taking over her features as she waited for Nick to confirm how many she got right, even though she already knew the result.

"Look, I don't know what kind of witchcraft you did, but you got everything right." Nick said, his face with an expression of annoyance.

An excited scream escaped Y/N's lips. She ran towards Matt, hugging him tightly while jumping in place.

Matt laughed at her reaction, pulling her closer, kissing the side of her head repeatedly, jumping with her.

"Ugh, I hate you guys."

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

My asks are always open. Feel free to send requests or anything at all 🩷💋

And remember to treat people with kindness always!

~ taglist:

@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @il0vebeingdelulu @sturniolowhore @mimi-luvzyu @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @domizzzsstuff @sturnizd @hearts4chris @cupidzsq @dracoflaco @leah-loves-lilies @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @rootbeerworshiper @junnniiieee07 @elliesturniolo1 @sstvrnioloo @lightsgore @gidgett11037 @sturniolho @iammattswife

(If you want to be added to the taglist, please comment here)

[donovaneagle2098]

A Complete Encyclopedia of the Lore of Every Witcher School

This is a project I've been working on for a long time. The Witcher Schools in general have lore spread across 3 or 4 different sources, so it's very easy to find inaccurate details about each school due to a person only going off of one source without even knowing of the others. Hell, I've been guilty of this in the past. So I've gone out of my way to find every source available for the various Witcher Schools and compile it into one master post, mostly pulling from the standalone Gwent game, and the Witcher TRPG. Without further ado, let's start out with the original school, the Order of Witchers.

Witcher schools are like the Clans of Skellige, subtly different, but largely united by their common ground, and that common ground is the Order of Witchers.

The Order of Witchers began as an experiment by the rogue mages Alzur and his mentor Cosimo Malaspina. They "recruited" tests subjects from orphanages, buying them from neglectful parents, or outright kidnapping street kids.

From Cosimo's Gwent Card:

"Children keep asking him for gifts. He doesn’t know why, but it really helps with finding subjects for his experiments."

The main goal of this project was to create an order of knights artificially mutated and imbued with extreme levels of magic to protect people from a world where, at the time, monsters were often literally around every corner.

The mutation experiments were grueling, and most early candidates died horribly, the girls especially, as the mutagenic compounds the mages were working with at the time were better suited for a boys physiology, and they quickly stopped trying to find a mixture that worked well with women, instead refining the more successful candidate pool. Even with these refinements, however, the Witchers couldn't actually generate much in the way of magical power, at least not nearly as much as those funding the project had hoped for.

These early candidates were encouraged to stick to political neutrality, were told of their duty to protect the common people, and their sword instructor tried to encourage them to take on knightly virtues to live their lives by, though only a few candidates actually bought fully into these particular knightly ideals.

The school developed a training regimen that all later Witcher schools would put their own small twists on. They perfected the whirling sword style, practiced on the Pendulum and Gauntlet training courses. They learned the Witcher Sign magic, created by Cosimo. They were taught hunting and monster lore from experts hired from across the world, and master alchemists crafted the famous Witcher potions.

Ultimately, funding from this school would be pulled due to the Witcher candidates lack of truly powerful magic ability, and the order would start to fracture. Witchers dissatisfied with their lot in life after being forcibly mutated, and railing against the Order's enforced ideals began getting combatative with other Witchers over petty contracts. At this time, contracts were so plentiful that there was no real need to fight over them, but these dissident Witchers did so anyway out of a desire for autonomy and to be free of the Order's code, which they saw as having no practical purpose to prepare new Witchers for the road ahead, and hypocritical as it was forced on them by the mages who never cared for the Witcher's lives. This culminated in one such outspoken Witcher, Arnaghad, attacking another Witcher who poached a contract from him.

After being forced into the painful life of a Witcher, Arnaghad loathed anyone who imposed their will upon him, the Order and it's codes especially. He led an attack on the Order proper, aided by fellow Witchers who respected his defiance towards authority. Once they were beaten back, these dissidents fled to the Amell mountain range to start the next Witcher school, the School of the Bear.

The School of the Bear is one of the most misunderstood schools of them all, owing to the first major lore drop about them being largely in-universe rumors and conjecture surrounding the school, and as such I may need to go more in depth. The two major misconceptions stemming from this is the rumor about their armor, which claims that they don't bother dodging like the other Witchers and instead take blows head on (generally a bad idea, according to Geralt in the books), and the rumor about them attacking most Witchers they meet.

I contacted Cody Pondsmith, who wrote a great deal of this lore, and he mentioned that Bears do often threaten or even fight other Witchers, but in a very Skellige way, only to ward off the other Witcher from contracts they want. The Bears just want to live lives where they aren't commanded by others, and were trained especially brutally, and so will fight for what contracts they want. However they will NEVER kill another Witcher, just draw first blood (outside of duels to decide who runs the school, which occasionally turn deadly. It's unknown if Arnaghad has ever lost these duels) and if that other Witcher stands up to the Bear, they'll let them have the contract and if they meet up and work together enough even maybe become a lifelong friend.

To quote Cody himself: "I like to think of the Witcher Order as a big family in which the Bear School is the blunt, no-nonsense brother. He can be prickly and a bit of a bully sometimes but he takes his job seriously and he can be a good drinking buddy if you get to know him. Not the friendliest of people but far from evil. If you stand up to him and show him you're not afraid of him, he'll respect you."

The other rumor is also an exaggeration. The Witcher TRPG mentions that the Bear armor was designed with flexibility in mind, and while they trained to take on weaker blows with their armor and "mastery of the Quen sign", they also trained how to move quickly in their armor if they needed to dodge a fatal blow. The Bears also still trained on the gauntlet and pendulum like the other schools. Cody Pondsmith also confirmed that the Bears are just as agile as the other Witchers.

The Bears' core philosophy is almost very Lambert like, viewing Witcher's work not as a duty, or knightly virtue, but as difficult, brutal work. The only reason they stick to this work is to do a job where no one else commands them and they're left in peace. They focus only on the practical aspects of their profession, and as such discourage their students from working together in training, since Witchers work alone. As Arnaghad said, "We pass through life alone, better get used to it!" As a result, Bears are very isolated, preferring their own company to that of other Witchers, and were encouraged to value their autonomy and self care above all else. The Bears' final trial involved climbing to the top of Mt. Gorgon and back, and any who died from the cold were left "as a sobering reminder of the dangers of their trade". Despite this, the TRPG has a list of random early training events Witchers from all schools can have, and Bears could sometimes make friends amongst their fellow witchers in training just like members of every other school.

Once the new Bear students left their keep of Haern Caduch, most wouldn't return to winter there, unlike the other schools. They developed a reputation as being terrible to fight, and for being firebrands, often speaking very bluntly, not matter who they spoke to, authority included. Once such Witcher, named Gerd, was asked by a Duchess to help kill her father. He insulted her so badly he got a warrant for his death placed on him, though all the peasants he met spoke rather highly of him. As a result, Bears found it easiest to make friends amongst the similarly minded Dwarves and Gnomes of the Amell mountains, and people of the Skellige Isles. According to Cody Pondsmith, this is the main reason the Bears stayed together as a group at all. They valued autonomy above all else and so long as they functioned as a Witcher school, they were left alone and no rulers would try and command them. They also take their ideals of free will and apply it to others, never seeking to rule over others. They simply wish to live their lives free.

One of the original Witchers to side with Arnaghad, Ivar Evil-Eye, had extra mutations done to him by the Order of Witchers during his trial, allowing him to see into other worlds. In these visions he saw the Wild Hunt rampaging across them, conquering them. Ivar became obsessed with stopping them, and tried to kill Arnaghad to take command and lead the Bear school against the Hunt. This failed, so he and his supporters left to form the Viper School.

The Witchers of the Viper school, based in Gorthur Gvaed, were said to be the most secretive, taking contracts as both assassins and witchers. They at first dedicated themselves finding a way to stop the Wild Hunt, amassing a massive library on the subject. Fighting with an unpredictable, ambushed based variant of the Witcher fighting style, Viper Witchers employed poisons, brewed by skilled Viper alchemists, on both their swords, and a dagger in their offhand, their biggest deviation from typical Witcher combat techniques.

Vipers, for an unknown reason, eventually forgot their purpose. In his time, Letho of Gullet could only guess at why the school had been founded. Instead, they became famous for their skill at political killings, dealing with the nobility of the southern countries before Nilfgaard had even become a large-scale power.

Viper students had a different type of trial, after more grueling than typical training. Instead of any physical task like the other schools, the Viper students were given a pet at their induction to the school. And to graduate, they simply had to hunt it down and kill it, showing their lack of mercy.

While most of those who supported Ivar followed him to the Viper school, one group broke off and west east, across the Korath desert, to Zerikania, founding the School of the Manticore.

The School of the Manticore was founded by the Witcher Iwan, from the School of the Bear, following Ivar's assassination attempt on Arnaghad. They got work in the Korath desert as caravan guards, earning the attention of the Zerrikanian Queen after a deadly battle with a manticore. The Queen sponsored the Witchers of the Manticore, making them the only school to be officially backed by any government. They were experts on potions and anti-toxins, a necessity of dealing with the poisonous creatures of the Korath desert.

A unique adaptation to the monsters of the desert also had Manticore Witchers employ shields into the whirling combat of their Witcher training. Given their extra support, the Manticores held two keeps, Behelt Nar and Bailsuf Alsarea, on opposite sides of the desert, so that they might better patrol and guard those within it.

The Manticore is the final school to come from the schism Arnaghad had led. The other voices of dissent against the ideals of the Order would soon hear of these new schools and decide to break off as well to form the School of the Cat.

The School of the Cat was founded out of a response to the hatred and distrust Witchers received. They desired to be seen in a better, more respectful light. Ironically, they would end up doing the opposite. The Cat School stole away with several of the mutagens needed to make more Witchers and headed to Ebbing, and Stygga Citadel, where they would begin to experiment on human-elf children in an attempt to perfect the mutations. Its possible that the mages at this time furthered experiments on making women Witchers, but this is not confirmed yet.

Attempting to make a name for themselves, the Cats hired themselves out as spies, assassins, and mercenaries, genuinely earning them some respect from common folk for killing bandits.

In their attempts to perfect the mutations and further dull the emotions of their Witchers, the Cat school experimented harshly on a group of children that resulted in the opposite, giving these Witchers hightened emotional responses instead. These students, cast aside and left for dead, fled into the arms of a group of elves, who agreed to support them if this branch of the Cat School supported the elves' fight for freedom.

This branch, led by Gezras of Leyda, attached itself to the Dyn Marv caravan and traveled the continent, lending their services mostly to those nonhumans who could pay, while the main Cats at Stygga ended up getting assaulted by angry royals incited by their political maneuvering. This left the Dyn Marv branch as the only functional element of the School of the Cat. These Cats would train students' agility in a light, fast Elven take on Witcher fighting style, and would train their balance by making students walk a tightrope, starting low to the ground at first, but getting higher and higher each attempt.

The Cat school's breaking of Witcher neutrality and reputation for bloodlust earned Witchers such a bad name that those in the Order who most cherished their old swordmaster's knightly virtues would leave to form the School of the Griffin.

The School of the Griffin, led by Erland of Larvik, wished to truly achieve the dream of the original Order, and Gryphon, the Order's sword instructor. They traveled north to Kaer y Saren, an old fortress the Order once used, and cleansed it of the spirits of those who died in the first Witcher mutations. From there, they began a Witcher school focused on respectability and honor, believing in their knightly duties. And it worked, somewhat. The Griffins were sometimes advisors to nobility, and seen as honorable, but the prejudice against Witchers would never leave, and most would never see a Griffin Witcher as anything more than a monster playing at being a knight.

These Witchers tried their best to cushion their students against the pain of their lives on the Witcher's path, and were more brotherly than the other schools, though their knightly virtues and brotherhood were oftentimes cold comfort to Griffin students.

From the Witcher TRPG Sourcebook:

"Witcher I knew couldn’t really remember much ‘bout his past. Heh, too young to really form a lotta memories when they took him to Kaer Y Seren. Told me that the memory he did have made the mutations easier. Poor bastard clung to a memory of his pa takin’ him on a horse for a ride in the fields. Don’t know why he chose that one. Probably the only normal memory he had."

The Griffins amassed a huge library of magical knowledge, though they could only push sign magic so far, and the books were likely wasted being in a Witcher library. The library held several incredibly famous tomes on magic within, and was the envy of full mages across the Northern Realms. Despite all their efforts, they never could achieve their goal of bringing about the Order of Witcher's vision. The Griffins even had their own breaches of Witcher tradition in pursuit of their knightly heroics. An often said mantra of the Griffin school in Gwent is "To slay dragons! Tis our knightly duty!" despite dragons being largely innocent, intelligent beings who mostly wish to be left in peace.

Code Pondsmith had this to say about the Griffins:

"The Griffins stuck to the knightly traditions that the original witcher order tried to uphold. As a result it's safe to say that the Griffin school taught that monsters were the enemy of mankind and must be defeated. I don't think they would all be blindly overzealous but they wouldn't have any qualms about slaying sapient monsters if they believed it was for the good of mankind. Similarly, it's likely that they would side with humans in any conflict between monsters and humans. In a way, the Griffins' knightly virtues made them easier to manipulate than the other witcher schools. They were bound to protect humanity and thus were more likely to be convinced to hunt a monster if a local noble or alderman claimed it would be for the good of the people. This is the case with the dragons. The kingdoms and jewelers guilds of the North convinced the Griffin School that dragons were a blight upon humanity and the Griffins started slaying dragons regardless of whether all of the dragons they slew deserved it. Additionally, the knightly values might make Griffin school witchers more likely to take pity on desperate humans and work for free."

Those few Witchers remaining in the Order by now traveled to northern Kaedwyn, and started a school based on their tempered, traditionalist, and realistic view on the Order's goals. They based themselves in Kaer Morhen and dubbed themselves the School of the Wolf.

The School of the Wolf is the most famous Witcher school, known for their professionalism and efficiency. They don't kill humans like the Viper or Cat. Aren't bold or brash like the Bear, or put Knightly virtues above Witcher ideals like the Griffin. I mean, anyone reading far this knows who the Wolf Witchers are, so I'm not going to get into to much detail. They're Geralt's school. Ciri's school.

They took a balanced approached to Witcher life and as such trained Witchers who were the best adjusted out of the schools, with neither the Bear's harshness nor the Griffin's egocentrism. For this, Wolf Witchers were lauded all across the Continent.

With all Schools formed, the Golden Age of Witchers began, at first with the Bears and Griffins making peace. From Erland of Larvik's Journal (The TRPG's monster manual):

"Surprisingly enough the fracturing of the witcher order had lead to a more effective organization for us witchers. Spread across the Continent and each making more witchers independently, it was no longer the task of 60 or 70 witchers to patrol the entire Continent from Nilfgaard to Kovir. Each school patrolled their own path and when a Gryphon met with a Bear each knew they had their territory and any infighting wouldn’t be worth the bloodshed. We managed to broker peace and live as somewhat estranged brothers rather than bitter enemies"

Witchers at this time were seen largely as heroes, with their detractors' voices largely simmering underneath. With Witchers around to kill monsters, people felt safe and so ignored any misgivings they might have.

Witchers, no matter the school, aren't too dissimilar from each other, and so the Cintinent at large formed an overall opinion of the Witchers based on the traits they all shared. From the TRPG:

"In the heyday of witchers there were many many seperate schools, which all mutated new witchers and taught them the neccesary skills to hunt monsters and lift curses. While it’s generally agreed that there is a core set of skills required to a be a witcher,

each school taught its students differently and focused on different aspects of witcher training. Thus, witchers from different schools often act differently and go about their jobs in similar but varied ways."

During this time, the Schools all produced hundreds of Witchers, and each was their own person, With their own preferences and personality, despite the schools themselves having reputations for Witchers with only a few certain traits. For instance, the Bear Witcher Ivo of Belhaven fought like a Viper or Cat Witcher, but in personality was a perfect fit for the Bear School with how standoffish he could be. The schools kept to their own territory at first, but as time went on and contracts got ever more rare, these already thin lines fell apart and the schools stopped caring much about territories.

They also all customized their gear in different ways, usually keeping their gear in similar fashion to their school's, as its what they trained in an were used to. For example, Bear Witcher Junod of Belhaven wore what appears to be a set of Wolf School armor he had modified to fit Bear Witcher style.

Witchers also at this time experimented with signs. The Griffins obviously focused on making them more powerful, and the Bears pushed Quen to a level beyond any other school. But the most interesting case is that of Warrit, a blind Viper Witcher who used the lesser known Suppire sign as a form of echolocation.

The Golden age lasted for around 150-200 years or so, ending around 1160 when the monster populations had been hunted down enough that people's main concern stopped being the monsters, and became the Witchers themselves.

The Griffin School, refusing to share the knowledge of its library, was destroyed by jealous mages. A group of peasants and mages attacked the Wolves' keep out of nowhere. The Bears failed to destroy a powerful cabal of vampires and, when peasants rioted and came for their keep, chose to disband rather than engage in needless slaughter. The Cat's keep of Stygga is destroyed, but the Dyn Marv chapter may still be alive and well. The Manticore School failed to protect an important prince from a fire elemental, and so lost their funding and closed. The Viper refused to support the Nilfgaardian usurper and were destroyed.

If you've made it this far, holy shit, thank you! I hope you have a great day!

[v3nusxsky]

hello, this is my first time asking here so im kinda shy... maybe can u do a emily prentiss x fem!reader where emily for some reason finds a cowboy hat and put it on to show reader and that turns reader on, then reader needs emily to deal with her... maybe smut if you into it ? thanks, also im following you for a little time and im loving your stories, bye angel

Reverse Cowgirl 18+

*Authors note~ I was unsure on which direction I wanted to take this due to writers block but I low key love it and the last word of the ask seemed to incorporate itself well here, I hope you love it*

Trigger Warnings~ roleplay?? dom em sub r daddy Emily cowboy hat reverse cowgirl position strap oral praise kink degrading kink

Prompt~ see ask^^^^^

It was so rare that you ever had time to spare from chasing serial killers all around the world, but thankfully today seemed to be a rare restful day. No phone buzzing at ungodly hours of the morning with the words "we got a case." No this morning you'd awoken to your favourite agent peacefully sleeping next to you. Your girlfriend, not that anyone else knew. These mornings were definitely your favourite. You often wonder how she gets away with looking so damn gorgeous but then again your too busy starring to care why, instead admiring her beauty.

A lazy morning with your love sounded absolutely perfect until your phone began buzzing on the nightstand. A silent pray for it to not be work, you answered the call to be greeted with an excited shriek form the one and only miss Penelope Garcia. "Pg!" You whined, "my ears Garcia, what do you need?" A little scoff made its way over the line, "you me JJ and Prentiss, shopping at noon. No excuses we need a girl day and I need to spoil my god sons. I'll text you the address, bye sweets!" And just like that she was gone. It wasn't a few seconds later, and your girlfriends phone buzzed too. Trying to contain your laughter as she attempted to wriggle out of the girls day, and her side glance at you while mouthing "traitor" before giving in and accepting that she needed to get up. After the phone call ended you promised if Emily got out of bed you could shower together, apparently that was all the motivation she needed.

After a shower that took twice as long as it normally would've due to Emily's wandering hands you finally secured breakfast and both left to meet the girls. Emily drove you both and honestly you'd be lying if you said her driving with a hand on your thigh didn't drive you insane, soon enough you were separating ways after a final kiss to avoid the suspicion. A part of you wished you could hold her hand in public or kiss her cheek but another part was too scared they'd try and reassign you to keep you both apart. You'd like to think Hotch wouldn't do that but you knew it was out of his control. Plus they didn't even know you were bisexual with a preference for women.

You'd be lying if you said you didn't have fun watching Garcia absolutely raid the toy stores and clothing shops while JJ insisted they didn't need anything since the absolute flood of gifts on six months ago. Garcia always won those arguments, finding some kind of loophole somewhere which made you giggle, Emily grabbed everything a coffee in order to slip a little I love you on your cup and every chance she got she discreetly joined your hands under tables. Small things like that made your heart yearn for her.

Now to end up in a sexy shop wasn't on your to do list but with JJ and Wills anniversary coming up it wasn't surprising she wanted to get him something or someone to unwrap. Garcia wondering off to another toy store left you and Emily waiting for JJ. Both of you pretending to look around separately while mentally compiling a list of outfits to get,

Emily even going as far to look at some of the strap ons. Seeing a cow boy hat in a sex shop was certainly something unexpected yet you still couldn't resist putting it on.

"Fetch me my horse daddy" you giggled adding a southern drawl into your accent causing Emily to spin around in confusion. There you stood with a cow boy hat on your head, going surprisingly well with your braided hair, and a riding crop in your right hand, "I believe I found my ride" you whispered before cheekily winking at the stunned woman. While you were putting it back where up I found the accessories you completely missed the raven haired woman buying a certain something and slipping away to hide it.

By the time JJ returned with her gift Emily was back looking at objects in the room as if she'd never left. The imagine of you being her perfect cowgirl never leaving her mind, all the ways she could fuck you in that outfit. On all fours her hand gripping and tugging on your braids as she absolutely rails you from behind. Oh and you'd be so good for her, you always were. Her sweet little cow girl. Unbeknownst to you a silly little dress up would result into an absolutely desperate Emily tonight.

The journey back to Emily's apartment was blissfully normal until you arrived. There she went to the boot of the car and grabbed a cow boy hat. The hat suited her so well and you found yourself to distract to try and find out where she got it from due to the sticky wetness now dripping down your thick thighs. "God daddy so big! I need you" you whined pitifully as she came to hug you from behind, purposefully rubbing her bulge into your ass. That was new. She definitely wasn't packing when you left this morning that was for sure. God she knew how to drive you absolutely wild.

Emily allowed you to practically drag her into the apartment and straight to the bedroom, secretly loving how desperate a simple had made you, before pushing you into the wall and claiming your lips with hers. It was lustful and needy as if neither of you needed oxygen to breathe. Emily's right hand crept up your body until it made its way to its rightful place, your throat. Now with the gentle squeeze of her hand you were begging her to take you already. The nerd becoming unbearable for you. And Emily wasn't handling the need any better than you.

Clothing was torn from eachothers body before Emily gently lifted you so you could wrap your legs around her waist all while never losing your lips. A squeak of surprise flooded the room when your back hit the mattress, "Emily! Oh my gosh" you gasped, "what's got into you?" Perhaps it was a rhetorical question but she answered you anyway with a nip to the base of your throat, "you and that damn hat." You couldn't help but smirk, a harmless silly thing had turned her this needy for you.

Any reply you may have had died on your tongue as you felt her mouth creeping lower and lower until she met your needy cunt. By now your wetness was seeping onto the sheets, "god I need more" you whined impatiently, moving your hands to her hat to hold her in place. Emily was always talented in ever aspect of life, but the way she would plunge her tongue into your tight little hole and curl it just right was enough to drive you insane, but then when she would add two fingers and move her mouth to your aching bundle of nerves you honestly saw the stars. If there was one thing Emily prides herself on is how well you scream her name as she fucks you with her tongue. In fact she swears that she would spend forever between your thighs and die a happy woman.  Yet when your tugging her up for a break from the overwhelming sensations she still feels a little glee at what she planned to come next.

A few sweet kisses and some soft praises found you straddling her lap, the new strap on pressing against your soaking slit. "Please daddy" you whimpered only to be met with a shake of her head. "Nahuh angel, you're gonna ride my cock like a good cowgirl for me" she purred in your ear before helping swivel you around to face her legs. Then the hat was settled on your had before she finally slipped into your awaiting core. "Oh fuck yes so good, so big daddy fuck" you mewled as you slowly began to bounce on her cock. "God you're so fucking sexy, bend over cowgirl I wanna see how I spilt you in two."

The moment you finally bent so she could see how her faux cock moved in and out of your slippery hole she could've swore she almost lost her composure. But her patience was rewarded when soon all you were was a whiny mess hardly able to keep a rhythm. Hands gripped onto her thighs like a life line and yet you still couldn't do as you were asked to. "Such a pathetic whore for my angel, and you were being my sweet girl and yet now you can't even do what a common whore could. I'm disappointed Angel" she murmured placing her hands on your hips. A whine escaped you, "mm sorry daddy I be good girl mm sorry" you whimpered over and over until she finally took pity on you.

With a pace that was perfectly fast and rough Emily slipped out of your cunt, ignoring your whines of protest and flipped you on your hands and knees before slamming back into your needy pussy. From there on she kept a punishing pace. Her hands gripping your braids to steady herself as she attempted to burry her cock into your womb. And you came over and over for her that night until you were nothing but her little angel absolutely fucked dumb.

"Shhh sweetheart you did so good for me darling" she murmured in between kissing all over your face to distract you from her pulling out. "Such a pretty cowgirl for your daddy" was what caused you to blush like a mad woman. You knew the routine Emily would get up to get a cloth and clean the strap but you didn't want her to go. But you didn't have the brain function to do more than whine at her, trying to convey what you wanted. "Shh two seconds my love, we have to clean up then I'm all yours baby."

Two seconds was all it was, and then Emily was back in before allowing you to snuggle up on her chest as her hands threaded through your beautiful hair. "So proud of you sweet girl" she whispered not expecting you to whine and mumble "disappoint you" the clearest you could. "No angel, you're my good girl, I love you my little cowgirl, you did so well baby, now rest angel, I'm right here."

Word count 1880

[fortheloveofwonderland]

Midnight | Chapter 16 | S.R

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter Summary - you travel to South Dakota with Spencer for his next target which leads to a surprising confession of feelings. The BAU make strides in discovering your whereabouts.

Pairing - unsub! Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - dark angst | smut | very eventual happy ending

Warnings - Spencer is trying, drinking, swearing, murder, drink driving, penetrative sex, unprotected sex.

WC - 4.9k

Chapter 16 - Dangerous

Hal’s Used Car Lot, located just outside of Roanoke and only three and a half miles from where the burnt out Volvo was found, was the fourth place of its kind Luke Alvez and Matt Simmons had visited that morning. 

It was late when Penelope had dropped the information on them so they’d spent last night compiling lists and calling hospitals which didn’t yield anything. First thing this morning Emily sent Luke and Matt down towards Roanoke to check out several car dealerships and rental places. 

JJ and Rossi’s trip out to the Franklin County crime lab hadn’t shed any more light on the situation. No usable evidence was found in the car, all they’d ascertained was that petrol had been used as an accelerant and the crime scene techs had concluded it was arson and not an accidental fire. 

Luke stretched his back and rolled his shoulders as he exited the car again, all this driving around aching his muscles. Matt didn’t seem phased as he started across the lot, Luke following behind. 

It wasn’t hard to work out who they needed to speak to, the owner Hal Mitchum plastered his face across all the billboards around the lot and it wasn’t like it was a particularly nice face. He was a huge man, at least six six and almost as wide, his broad shoulders barely contained in the suit jacket he wore. 

Luke and Matt exchanged a look as they headed to where he was schmoozing a customer on the far side of the lot, throwing out his charm in the hopes of a sale. He looked up at them as they approached, the way his brow furrowed told them he wasn’t pleased about being disturbed. 

“Hal Mitchum?” Matt spoke as they neared him.

“Give me a minute fellas, I’m already with a customer.” He smiled at them, a slightly smarmy smile.

“Not customers,” Luke retrieved his credentials. “SSA’s Luke Alvez and Matt Simmons with the FBI.” 

Hal straightened up and scrutinised them for a moment or two, clearly perturbed by their presence. He turned to the lady he’d been showcasing one of his cars to and smiled at her. 

“Why don’t you head inside and one of my guys can give you some more information on this little puppy. I’ll be right there.” He patted her shoulder and she nodded happily, albeit slightly confused, before heading towards the building. 

Hal stepped out from behind the car and folded his thick arms over his chest, eyebrow cocked at the two agents. 

“What can I help you with?”

“We’re investigating a possible missing person. We have reason to believe he may have purchased a used car from you in the last couple of weeks.” Matt began. 

“He would have paid cash, probably didn’t look around much, he would have been happy with something cheap and reliable. He didn’t have another vehicle to trade.” Luke continued. 

“Boys,” Hal clucked. “This here is one of the busiest used car dealerships in Franklin County. You gotta be more specific.” 

Luke and Matt exchanged a look and Luke pulled out his phone and brought up a photograph of Spencer, turning the display towards Hal.

“He look familiar to you?” Luke asked, holding his breath while Hal inspected the photo with a furrowed brow.

“You know what, I think he does.” He nodded slowly. “Come inside, I’ll see if I can find his paperwork.” 

Luke felt a small weight lift from his shoulders as he and Matt hurriedly followed Hal across the lot. He led them to his office and slid in behind the desk. Luke and Matt took a seat while he rifled through a filing cabinet. Several long minutes passed before he settled on a particular file which he pushed across the desk to the SSA’s.

“Here you go, Andrew Burnett. Brought a little blue Nissan.” 

Luke picked up the papers and Matt glanced at it over his shoulder. He looked at the copy of the driver’s licence with a concerned frown. The photograph was most definitely Spencer, however the name was wrong and the licence was issued in the state of Colorado. He looked up at Matt who was frowning too.

“Wasn’t there a couple who checked into Heartland with that name?” Matt lowered his voice but of course Hal could still hear.

“Yeah, Andrew and Rose Burnett.” Luke nodded.

“Oh she was a sweetheart.” Hal spoke up and they both turned to look at him.

“Excuse me?” Matt questioned.

“His wife, Rose. She was a nervous little thing but she had a kind smile.” Hal nodded wistfully.

Luke retrieved his phone again and pulled up your picture which he showed to Hal.

“Was this her?” 

“Yeah that’s her.” 

“You’re sure?” 

“I never forget a pretty face.” Hal gave them that smarmy smile. 

“Any idea where they were heading?” Matt asked him now.

“No idea, but he kept saying he needed a car that would do a lot of miles. The Nissan was old but it had been well maintained. It was cheap and reliable, just like he wanted.” Hal leant back in his chair.

“And Rose, did she have any say in it? What was her involvement?” Luke was more keen to get to the bottom of where you fit into all of this.

“She didn’t talk much. You know now I think about it, she seemed like she didn’t want to be here. Kept checking the time, hurrying her husband along. Is he abusive?” Hal raised an eyebrow at the agents and Matt and Luke briefly exchanged a look.

“Why would you say that?” Matt’s brows furrowed.

“I don’t know, she just seemed…scared I guess, followed him around like a stray dog being promised food. Seen it before in abusive relationships.” He shrugged. “You want me to make you a copy of those?” 

Ten minutes later Luke and Matt were hopping back into Luke’s SUV with copies of the paperwork and driver’s licence. Luke started the engine but didn’t drive away.

“None of this makes any sense.” Matt was still staring at the licence that bore Spencer’s image. “Fake names, Colorado licences, a burnt out car?”

“If he’d set the fire himself, theoretically, why would he do that?” Luke turned in his seat to look at Matt.

“Because he has something to hide.”

“So pair that with the fake names and licences and the call I got from Y/N from the middle of nowhere and the fact that she’s been calling me from a burner phone. If it weren’t Y/N and Spencer we were talking about, what would you think?” Luke ran his hand over the back of his neck as he spoke. 

Matt exhaled, chewing on his bottom lip and looking between the paperwork and Luke. 

“I would think they were on the run. I would think these are two people who have committed a crime and are trying to get the hell out of dodge.” Matt admitted with a shake of his head. “We’ve gotta be wrong.” 

“I want us to be wrong.” Luke agreed. “But my gut has been telling me since day one that something was off, that there must be something big at play here. I’m really scared that Y/N and Spencer have done something irreparably stupid.” 

“We should get back and tell the team what we found.” Matt exhaled again, pulling on his seatbelt. 

Luke did the same before putting the car in drive and peeling out of the lot. He did not have a good feeling about this, but unbeknownst to him, it would only get a whole lot worse. 

***

When you awoke the next morning, you were alone in bed and honestly you weren’t surprised. Spencer had been the most vulnerable you’d ever seen him last night and you knew from experience that he would most likely have put his walls back up even higher than before. You were prepared for the cold shoulder, maybe even a fight. You at least hoped you could get some coffee in your system first. 

Still dressed in yesterday's clothes which you’d slept in, you padded down the stairs towards the kitchen. As you reached the bottom of the steps the smells of strong coffee and sweet syrup and smokey bacon wafted your way through the partially open kitchen door. You rubbed your eyes as you continued forward and tentatively entered the kitchen. 

Spencer was standing on the other side of the island, unboxing an array of hot and fresh food on the counter. He glanced up at you and offered you no more than a meagre half-smile before continuing his task.

“McGill’s does take out.” He shrugged. “Figured it would be better than anything I could cook.” 

You moved closer, sliding into one of the bar stools and smiling to yourself as you picked up one of the take out coffee cups.

“I also had no idea what you’d want to eat so I pretty much got everything.” He focused on laying out the food and wouldn’t look at you again. 

“That was really kind of you.” You dared to speak, taking a sip of the glorious McGill’s coffee.

“S’ok. We don’t need to make a big deal out of it. I was hungry too.” He shrugged, sitting in the chair next to you and started piling food on his plate. 

You knew it was a peace offering of sorts. Spencer didn’t have the words to apologise for now he’d been treating you and of course he knew one breakfast wasn’t simply enough but he hoped it was a start. 

You ate in silence and Spencer wouldn’t look at you and when he was finished he was quickly slipping out of the chair again. He smoothed out his shirt and swallowed thickly when he finally looked across at you. 

“I’ve gotta go up to South Dakota. It’s a really long drive so I was gonna head out soon and I probably won’t be back until tomorrow.” He awkwardly scuffed the toe of his converse on the wooden floor. 

“Oh, sure.” You tried not to sound as downtrodden as you felt. 

“I mean, I guess you can come. If you want to. Don’t feel like you have to, if you have plans with whatshisname or whatever. It’s your call.” He looked the picture of nerves and you thought it was extremely cute. It was amazing how one small gesture always managed to erase all the bad he'd done. 

It probably made you an idiot but you would cling to these moments when you caught a glimpse of the old Spencer as much as you could. 

“I don’t think I’m gonna be seeing too much of whatshisname anymore, so I have a free day.” You shrugged, trying to hide the smile from your lips.

“Ok. Cool.” He nodded. “We need to leave in the next half hour so, uh, yeah.” 

“Ok.” Your lip involuntarily turned up at the corner as Spencer started backing away. 

“Ok. I’m just gonna…” he trailed off, pointing over his shoulder and then he walked into one of the stools. He scrambled to set it right before it fell over and you saw a light blush spread to his cheeks. He shook his head, casting his eyes at the floor, no longer able to look at you. “I, uh, got you some stuff, it's on the couch.”

“Some stuff?” You frowned, getting to your feet as he made it to the door.

“Again, don’t make a big deal out of it, I’m just sick of hearing about you being cold.” With that he slipped through the door and disappeared. 

You frowned to yourself as you headed to the living room, knowing you had not once mentioned to Spencer how cold you’d been. You always had a feeling he could read your mind though. On the couch was a large brown paper bag with the Milky Way logo on the side. Your excitement took over and you were quickly diving inside. 

You found two large wool knit sweaters, one in a pastel pink colour and another in violet, Spencer’s favourite colour. There was a pair of thick knitted gloves, a scarf that was about four foot long and beanie hat all with matching patterns of stars and moons stitched into them. But that wasn’t all.

At the bottom of the bag sat a small yellow jewellery box which you plucked out with a shaking hand. You ran your fingers over the lid a few times before daring to open it. Nestled inside on a little velvet cushion was a handmade necklace of a rose gold heart hanging on a thin chain. Picking it up from the box and turning it over in your hand, you soon found the etching on the back of the heart. 

It was a little crudely done, clearly not something Milky Way usually offered, but you imagined Spencer had been insistent on having them engrave it for him and had probably paid a lot for the privilege. It was just three simple words but words that had to mean so much to you.

Partners in Crime. 

Your heart swelled as you held the necklace in your hand, a token of Spencer’s feelings towards you. It meant more to you than he would ever know. You couldn’t wait to put it on and show him that you felt the same. You were a little lost in the gift, and didn’t notice you were being watched until Spencer cleared his throat, startling you out of a reverie.

“Can you stop fawning and get ready now please? We really need to go soon.” He spoke from the doorway.

“Spencer,” you looked up at him, eyes full of tears. “This is so-”

“Don’t,” he shook his head. “It was nothing. Please don’t make it into a thing.”

“Fine.” You rolled your eyes, putting the necklace back in its box. “Can I at least say thank you?” 

“You’re welcome.” He muttered under his breath, turning away from you. “Now seriously, hurry up or I will leave without you.” 

You watched him leave again in amusement. You felt like maybe you and Spencer had built a bridge, like this could be the start of a whole new chapter for the two of you. Hopefully he didn’t prove you wrong again. But maybe you shouldn’t hold your breath.

***

Rapid City, South Dakota was an exhausting ten hour drive from Crested Butte. But Spencer didn’t seem all that phased by it, in fact he’d seemed more rattled when you’d joined him at the car wearing the necklace he’d gifted you. 

Had he expected you not to wear it? Why would he buy it if he thought you wouldn’t? It had clearly flustered him though and he’d averted his eyes and quickly hopped in the car. 

Talk had been minimal on the drive. He’d told you about his target, serial murder Jason Durand and the crimes which cops couldn’t pin on him. He’d stopped for gas once and brought you back a burger from the grubby roadside van nearby which you ate as he continued the drive. 

You were about an hour outside of Rapid City when he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, landing on the necklace he’d bestowed upon you. 

“You didn’t have to wear it, you know.” He spoke quietly, like he didn’t want you to hear him. 

“Why wouldn’t I wear it? You brought it for me, presumably for the purpose of me wearing it.” You couldn’t contain your smirk. 

“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “If you didn’t like it or thought it was corny or something.” 

“It’s not corny.” You smiled at his obvious nerves. “And I love it.” 

“Right, good. That’s good.” He nodded. “But if you don’t want to wear it…”

“If I don’t want to wear it, I won’t.” You finished his sentence for him. 

“Good.” He focused back on the road but it was only a few minutes before he spoke again. “What did you mean when you said you don’t think you’ll be seeing too much of mountain man anymore?” 

“We’re, uh, it wouldn’t have worked out.” You fiddled with your hands in your lap. 

“Did you sleep with him?” He asked, his jaw tightening. 

“Yes.” You shrugged. “But you slept with Mary.”

“I did.” He sucked in a deep breath. “But I don’t want to again.”

You narrowed your eyes on the side of his face, trying to work out the things he wasn’t saying but he always was so hard to read. 

“Spence, if you have something to say, just say it. I can’t read your mind.” 

He clutched the wheel more firmly, his back straightening in his chair as he tried to get his words in order in his head. 

“I don’t want her or anyone else. So maybe we can just agree that we won’t…sleep with other people anymore.” He was more nervous than you’d ever heard him but after everything he’d put you through you weren’t letting him off so lightly. 

“I’m not sure I understand.” You lied, a smirk tugging at your lips. 

“Goddammit,” he growled under his breath.

Suddenly he was pulling the car to the side of the interstate and slamming on the brakes, causing you to jerk forward in your chair. He turned to look at you, eyes wide.

“Spencer?” You chewed on your lip, your stomach churning. 

“I only want you, ok?” He spat out. “I don’t want us to keep playing these stupid games. If you’re going to wear my ring, my necklace, then you’re mine and no one else’s.” 

“Spencer…” you furrowed your brows and he sighed loudly and over dramatically. 

“I love you, is that what you want to hear?” He spoke so fast as though he didn’t want you to understand him. “I love you and I think you love me too and we should…be together.”

He looked so frightfully unsure of himself, so much the Spencer you’d known. It made your heart double in size and all the bad things he’d done just slipped away. 

“Ok.” You nodded. 

“Ok?” He frowned. 

“Ok. I don’t want anyone else but you either. I’m yours, Spence. Always have been.” You offered him a meek shrug. 

“Ok.” He nodded, turning back to the wheel. “Good. Ok.” 

He was soon pulling back onto the road and continued driving without saying another word. You smiled to yourself as you toyed with your necklace. 

Maybe you shouldn’t be in love with Spencer, shouldn’t have let him off so easily. Love does make people do crazy things, but following Spencer to the ends of the earth was probably one of the craziest. 

***

The twenty four hours that followed were an adrenaline and scotch fuelled blur. The death of Jason Durand had been fast and bloody, and when you’d sliced his throat and felt the hot, sticky substance spurt on your skin, you’d had the biggest grin on your face. Looking up at Spencer, he’d been smiling too.

“That was the hottest thing in the whole world.” He praised you and managed to refrain from jumping your bones in the puddle of Durand’s blood. 

You cleaned up, got his body in the trunk and left the house how you’d found it before jumping back in the Nissan in your blood soaked clothes. You found an almost full bottle of scotch on the backseat and turned the radio right up, tilting your chair back and sipping from the bottle as the euphoria consumed you. 

Spencer drove at a slightly manic pace, reaching over and taking the bottle from you before having a hefty sip. He drove for no more than twenty minutes along a deserted strip of road west of Rapid City before he was pulling the car to a stop on the grassy verge. When he turned to look at you, his eyes were frantic, a smile on his lips larger than you’d seen on him in a really long time. 

He swigged from the bottle again before using his free hand to undo his seatbelt, then yours and then grabbed you by your wrist and pulled you over the centre console and into his lap. His fingers toyed with the gold heart around your neck as you took the bottle from him and sipped it. His hand then trailed down over your stained shirt and you felt him quickly grow hard. 

“I can’t wait any longer. I need you.” He bucked against you. 

“Then have me.” You shrugged, taking another sip of the scotch. 

No sooner had you swallowed, Spencer was kissing you, gripping the back of your neck to keep you close. His other hand was already working on the buttons on your jeans and helped you out of them which was no easy feat in the small car. 

You continued to kiss him while helping him free his erection. His fingers edged your panties aside before running between your legs. He hissed when he felt how wet you were already. He moved his thumb to your clit and started rubbing but you were shaking your head, moving to grip the base of his cock and move it between your legs. 

“Can’t wait.” You panted against his lips. “Need to feel you.” 

Spencer didn’t complain as you started lowering yourself on his member, feeling himself disappear inside of you inch by inch. His head rolled back against the headrest and he moaned deeply once he bottomed out. 

You gripped his shoulders and used them as leverage to start moving up and down. The radio was still blaring, masking your moans and it was only seconds before the windows of the car steamed up with your heavy breaths. 

Spencer groped your breasts through your shirt soaked in blood as you rode him, keeping eye contact with him as you did so. He wasn’t sure he’d ever been this turned on in his life, he’d missed this, missed you. Mary didn’t hold a candle to you and the way you felt.

He knew as he felt you clenching around him that he never wanted to be with another woman as long as lived. Your rings might be fake, but the symbolism was real. He loved you as though you were his wife and he would until his dying day. You were his everything. Nothing could mess with the two of you, nothing could ever bring you down. 

Your grip on his shoulders tightened and he knew you were close. He started rocking his hips up to meet you, desperate for you to reach the peak of pleasure. 

You screamed his name into the void as you fell over the edge, practically crumpling in his arms. He held you steady while he continued to thrust up into you until he spilled his seed inside of you. 

You stayed like this for a while, Spencer still inside you while you panted against his shoulder. He held you gently, almost lovingly while you caught your breath. After a while he took hold of your jaw and tugged you back to look at him.

“Partners in crime.” He mumbled with a smile. 

“Partners in crime. Forever.” You nodded in agreement. 

What you didn’t know at the time was that after tonight the two of you really would be bound together forever. That night in a haze of adrenaline brought on from your latest kill, in the front seat of that little Nissan, you and Spencer had created something that would tie you to each other forever. But it would be a while before you knew what happened that night, before you discovered the life you had created on the side of that road.

Spencer kissed you softly before helping you back into your seat. You got back into your jeans while he tucked himself away, taking another sip of the scotch before starting the engine and continuing on his way. 

He continued for another half hour before he pulled into the parking lot of the Gold Country Inn in the aptly named Deadwood. Being that he wasn’t covered in blood like you, he secured a room for the two of you for the night. 

You showered together, the dead body of Jason Durand still in the trunk of the Nissan for disposal tomorrow. You drank well into the night, exchanging sexual favours until the sun came up. 

In the morning you drove out to Nebraska National Forest where he dug a grave and buried your kill before starting the five and a half hundred mile drive back to Crested Butte. Spencer held your hand for the entire drive. And for the first time since you left DC some two weeks ago, you felt at peace, like you’d finally found where you were always meant to be. 

It was a classic case of folie à deux, a delusion shared by two people in close association. You’d started to believe what you were doing was justified, that you weren’t doing anything wrong. Spencer’s unwavering faith in his cause had rubbed off on you and there was no going back. 

You were Bonnie Parker and Clyde Barrow, Myra Hindley and Ian Brady, Rosemary and Fred West. You’d go down in history like those who came before you, right by his side. 

You’d had a taste and you’d never be the same. Spencer had awoken a dangerous side of you that could no longer be contained. You felt untouchable. 

But the one thing all those couples had in common was that they got caught, and you were stupid in thinking that you and Spencer could be any different. Because as the two of you drove back towards your new home, back at Quantico, Penelope Garcia had made a discovery.

She ran down the hall on her too high heels, almost tripping multiple times in her rush to find the team. She shoved open the bullpen door, causing it to swing on its hinges and everyone looked up at her as she fought to catch her breath. 

“What’s wrong?” JJ jumped up from her desk and ran to her side. “What have you found?” 

“I…I…” she panted, trying to control her breathing. “I put out the APB on the blue Nissan Spencer brought from Hal’s.” 

Luke was on his feet, coming closer to Garcia with a frown on his face.

“And?” He encouraged her. 

“It’s been spotted a few times here and there but since last weekend it has mostly been in one place. It comes and goes but it’s been picked up on the same camera multiple times.” Her eyes were wide, partly through excitement and partly through fear. 

“Where, Garcia?” Rossi was on his feet now too. 

“A place called Elk Avenue in the tiny little mountain town of Crested Butte, Colorado.” She spat out. 

The team all exchanged glances with one another, Emily who was standing in her office doorway included. It would make sense given the Colorado licence Spencer had used to buy the car but why that particular town? 

“We need to check it out.” JJ spoke on behalf of everyone, but looking at Emily. 

“We can’t all go, we have cases.” Emily shook her head, looking amongst her team and trying to make a quick decision. Her eyes stayed on Luke longer than the rest while she sighed. 

“Alvez?” She cocked her eyebrow at him.

“Yeah?” 

“First thing tomorrow, wheels up.” She nodded at him before turning on her heels and storming back into her office. 

You and Spencer had no idea the wheels that were currently in motion, like a train off its tracks hurtling towards you and there was no way to slow it down or to move out of its way. 

But you wouldn’t go down without a fight, no matter what happened. The BAU couldn’t stop you, not when you’d woken up feeling this dangerous. 

This is really my night, gonna take it right now,

Yeah, I'm feelin' like a Mack truck goin' downhill.

The people on the sidelines screaming "Slow down",

But you can't kill my vibe.

I'm a head case, and I'm leading the parade,

Rounding up the maniacs, let 'em out to play.

Once you get a taste, no, you'll never be the same

Bring the creatures to life.

My hand out the window just riding the wave,

My cares in the mirror just fading away.

Yeah, I'm superhuman, don't need to be saved,

Don't press your luck, I woke up feelin' dangerous.

Woke up feelin' dangerous.

(Ba-da-da, da).

(Ba-da-da, da).

Woke up feelin'.

This one's for the misfits,

And all the people on your shit list.

And now we're blowing you a big kiss,

'Cause we don't need you now.

I'm the little thorn hangin' outta your side,

You're digging me a grave 'cause you wish I'd just die.

Turn me to a ghost, now I'm flyin' too high,

And you can't kill my vibe.

My hand out the window just riding the wave,

My cares in the mirror just fading away.

Yeah, I'm superhuman, don't need to be saved,

Don't press your luck, I woke up feelin' dangerous.

Woke up feelin' dangerous.

(Ba-da-da, da).

(Ba-da-da, da).

Woke up feelin'.

They can't mess with us,

We woke up feeling dangerous.

They can't mess with us,

We woke up feeling dangerous.

They can't mess with us,

We woke up feeling dangerous.

They can't mess with us,

We woke up feeling dangerous.

This is really my night, gonna take it right now,

Yeah, I'm feelin' like a Mack truck goin' downhill.

All the people on the sidelines screaming "Slow down",

But you can't kill my vibe.

@bubblebuttwade @jay-2s-world @daddy-dotcom

[monsoon-of-art]

Donut Hole - Chapter 21

Everything Goes On

When you meet me in the daylight, like we did before Then I felt you on my shoulder, and you weren't suffering anymore You said: "I'm sorry that you worry, but don't apologize" I told you to forget me, but you stayed by my side, when I said- - Everything Goes On, Porter Robinson

[it's...over?] [ao3 link]

Dawn tugged at the edges of her scarf. The commander sat at his desk, Cyllene by his side, and the Clan Leaders stood besides her. The air was tense, terribly so. It did not help that neither Irida nor Adaman could seem to look her in the eyes.

There was no talking. There was no sound, period.

Finally, Kamado cleared his throat, and addressed Cyllene without looking away from Dawn and the leaders. “Cyllene. If you’d please.”

“This list has been compiled from eye-witnesses.” she began. “From both clan members, Wardens, and Leaders.”

To her left, Irida shifted nervously. Adaman crossed his arms over his chest.

Cyllene continued. “Assault. Theft. Destruction of property. Assault.”

Dawn’s blood turned to ice, and the weight of this meeting finally settled on her like a rock.

Barry, evidently, had been very, very busy.

He had said something earlier, about being ‘stupid’, but Dawn couldn’t ask about it before Cyllene came to visit.

It was probably a good thing, in hindsight, that Barry fainted almost immediately after. If he really thought this was a universe where Cyrus won, that interaction could’ve gone much worse.

“-Causing a landslide and destroying half of the Diamond Clan Settlement. Burning down half of the Pearl Clan Settlement. More Assault. Deliberately attacking the Noble Pokemon.”

Dawn was starting to feel lightheaded.

This had to be a mistake. Barry couldn’t do all that, Barry wouldn’t do that! He was so thin and tired and weak in the medical wing, he was a danger to himself more than anyone!

“Another assault, this time using a pokemon. Attacking a Noble Pokemon. Assault. Assault. Attacking a Noble Pokemon. Attacking a Noble Pokemon.”

How was there so much?

Kamado raised his hand. “I believe that’s enough.” He leaned a bit closer over his desk. “Dawn. If I recall correctly, this is your friend? ”

She tried swallowing the lump in her throat.

“Care to give us an explanation?”

Dawn briefly thought about lying. Thought about lying her little heart out. She had been barely accepted by Jubilife as an outsider, but Barry would have to fight uphill with a list a mile long like that.

He'd get kicked out. Thrown to the luxrays to be devoured and torn to shreds. He could even reflect badly on her , and she'd be tossed out after him-

No. No more lying. She had done enough of that, lying about her memory.

Dawn took a deep breath. “I've been doing a lot of…thinking, since Barry arrived. About him, about me - about my life before here. It's still so fuzzy, but he's helped me fill in some of the gaps.”

“There was a group of… Bad People. They were Bad People who did Bad Things. They stole things, attacked others, they planted explosives in the local lake...They wanted to destroy my home, they wanted to destroy everything. They wanted the world to be reduced to ash and darkness and nothingness. ”

She tried not to look at anyone directly, but she almost swore she saw Kamado’s face soften.

“Barry and I tried to fight back, tried to drive them away. We barely made it out with our lives. I think…” she hesitated. “Barry thought that the clans were the Bad People. He thought you took me away, he thought I was in danger. His memory is faulty, just like mine, and he’s terribly sick. I’m sure he didn’t mean it! He was just worried about me!”

Irida put a hand to her face, and Adaman uncomfortably shifted from one foot to the other. Kamado leaned back in his chair with a thoughtful hum. “...hm. I see.”

He addressed the leaders now. “And you two. What do you wish to do with the boy?”

Dawn tried to subtly glance at the leaders to see their faces. They looked just as anxious as she felt.

“Well, we…we still think-” Irida stuttered and stammered.

“The boy needs to be punished.” Adaman finished for her, speaking in a rush, as if he just wanted the words out of his mouth as fast as he could.

Dawn felt her heart stop and tears well in her eyes. They were going to exile him, or maybe they were going to do something worse. Was this the time period where they stoned people to death? They were going to kill him, either directly or indirectly.

How could they say that? How could they think that after telling them why?

Kamado nodded and looked at Cyllene. “And what do you think of all this?”

Cyllene looked at the leaders. Cyllene looked at Dawn.

“...you want my honest opinion, Commander?”

“Your honesty is all I ever ask for.”

There was a long period of silence as Cyllene thought of an answer.

“I believe the boy should contribute to the Survey Corps.”

“WHAT?!”

The leaders and Dawn were on the same confused page, it seems.

“I believe we need a bit more from you, Cyllene.” Kamado said, sounding a tad confused as well.

Cyllene straightened at Kamado’s comment. “The boy was brought in with a bag containing five Pokeballs. Each ball contained a pokemon he had caught, raised, and trained with no guidance or assistance from us. A single person training any pokemon is a feat. A young boy training five pokemon is astounding.”

She turned to Kamado. “The fact that he could use Pokeballs with no training, and the fact that he was able to survive Hisui alone, shows his resourcefulness, strength, and his adaptability.”

Cyllene turned back to the Clan Leaders, who were still clearly surprised by her thoughts on the matter. “Here, not only will he work for his room and board, but he will work to repay his crimes…perhaps by assisting you?”

Adaman and Irida were stunned into complete silence, looking at one another to try and force words to appear.

“I find this solution to be agreeable.” Kamado interrupted. “That way, we can keep a close eye on him, to make sure he doesn't cause any more trouble. You two can't seem to come up with a reason as to why we should not …so I am going to assume this is the best option going forward. Dismissed.”

Having lost their opportunity to object, Irida and Adaman slowly left the commander's chamber. Dawn waited for them to leave, not wanting to talk to them at the moment.

Before she could leave, Kamado cleared his throat to get her attention. “I'm serious, Dawn. We'll be watching your friend very carefully. Just as I have told you, if he wishes to be accepted and trusted, he will need to work hard. And he hasn't started on the best foot forward.”

Dawn nodded, almost bowing, before quickly darting out of the room.

While she did not want to see Adaman and Irida, she did linger a moment to try and catch Cyllene. 

It took Dawn a great deal of effort not to tackle the captain in a big hug. She hoped a warm smile would have the same effect. “Thank you, Captain Cyllene.”

Cyllene kept her stoic composure. “I have no idea what you're implying. You and I both know that Laventon requires all the help we can afford to give him. Speaking of, I believe you have duties to attend to. You need at least a Four Star Ranking before you can take on the Highlands.”

It appears as though Irida and Adaman shared Dawn’s plan, for they too had lingered down the stairs, waiting for her. She bristled at the two upon seeing them.

Some part of Dawn knew, deep down, that being the leader of a Clan of people must be hard. And some part of her knew that Barry - supposedly - did a lot of stupid things out in Hisui.

But the larger, louder part of her was mad at them. They wanted to punish her friend! How dare they! He didn’t know any better! He probably didn’t mean it! She knew he didn’t!

Both of them started talking - quietly, sheepishly - but Dawn didn’t stick around. She brushed past them without a word, making a point to not look at them with a huff. A little childish, maybe, but she wanted to get the point across.

Adaman and Irida didn’t go after her. 

Instead, Irida turned to Cyllene. “Be honest, why did you suggest taking Barry in? It seems…extremely charitable, even for the Galaxy team…”

“Yeah, that kid may be Dawn’s friend, but you read what he’s done. He could still be a threat. Are you certain that’s a good idea?”

“I went to visit him. It was a surprise visit, and in hindsight, I should’ve given him warning.” Cyllene said slowly, making her way back to her office. “In the brief moments of consciousness the boy had, I studied him. And do you know what I saw?”

She stopped in front of the doors to her office. “I looked into his eyes, and all I saw was complete and utter terror.”

---

“Dawnie, give me the other mochi.”

“No, Barry, Miss Pesselle says you’re eating too fast. You need to eat slower, she says your tummy is all shriveled up like a dried leppa berry.”

He tried not to pout so much. But he had been eating berries for…who knows how long, and this potato mochi tasted like Heaven in comparison. “Tell me more about the Survey Corps.” said Barry, trying to change the subject.

“The Pokedex doesn’t exist yet.” she began explaining again. “People and Pokemon relationships are still a little rocky.”

“So…we’re just filling out the Pokedex. Didn’t Rowan ask you that too? Give me a mochi. Please?”

Dawn relented, placing a mochi onto his plate. As soon as it touched the plate, he scarfed it down as fast as he could.

She rolled her eyes. “It’s different than that. We’re not just catching pokemon, we’re studying them. Catching different specimens to get an accurate weight distribution, observing them in the wild, seeing that foods they like-”

“That sounds really boring.” he said through a mouthful.

“Well, it can be, sometimes. Some of the tasks Laventon wants us to do are…boring. But it can be dangerous! It can be really dangerous! Pokemon-”

“Will attack you?” Barry finished the sentence for her. “Yeah, yeah. I’ve experienced that first-hand. And there’s these really really big ones-”

“Those are Alpha Pokemon. Also very dangerous.” She set down her plate and raised up her sleeve to show a long, pink scar running up her arm.

“Whoa! How’d that happen?! Who did that?! I’ll fine them in to the next century!”

“Alpha Parasect got me as I was trying to run. But then-but then you see momma and poppa pokemon caring for their babies- or or a tiny baby spheal rolling up to you-”

“And why am I doing this?”

“Because.” She set another mochi on his plate, which was quickly and ravenously devoured. “In order to live in Jubilife village, you work. You need to earn your keep. Secondly, you have a rap sheet a mile long-”

“I plead the fifth.”

“That only works in Unova.”

“It was self defense!”

“I know! But they’re still mad. So you’re kind of working off your crimes, too.”

“I demand a lawyer.”

“Barry, please. Take this a little seriously.” she sniffled, wiping at her eyes to try and preemptively stop the tears. “I thought they were gonna kick you out. I thought they were gonna kill you. S-Stone you to death.”

His eyes went wide. “They stone people to death here??”

“Maybe…I dunno…I was really scared.”

Barry slid over on his bed to make room. “Come here, come here.” he said, patting the space beside him. Dawn put the plate of mochi on the bedside table and sat down next to him, pulling him into a squeezing hug.

“I’ll join the Survey Corps. I’ll do what they ask me to do, I’ll do it! No more worrying. Me and you, it’ll be like when we started our journey!” said Barry, squeezing back.

“Nothing bad’s gonna happen. I won’t let it.”

[And...Close Scene! That's it guys, that's a wrap for Donut Hole!...but I'm not done with Barry yet >:)]

[And now, a shameless plug for my besties fic: "When you reach the end of the line, you must be brave." By Pinkrhin0. "In which Emmet arrives somewhere new, makes a new friend, travels cross country, and, most importantly of all: Stays alive- No matter what." A fun take on a reunion fic where Emmet has a very bad time!! Yippee!!!]

[tpwkwriter]

‘Vougue darling’

———

- influencer!y/n doing her makeup for vogue and gets interrupted ☁️

———

“I’ll be quiet babyy” H whines begging to joined the girl in her video

“This is for vogue darling” she smiles plonking down her makeup bag into the sink.

“Stilllll”

“Jus’ wanna watch” he added, leaning his tall, muscular frame onto the door frame, y/n took one look at his pouty lips and tousled fluffed hair

“Fine” she murmured against his lips

“But you’ve got to let me get on” she continued pressing her lips to his.

The girl continues to lay out all the products she intends to use throughout the video and set up her camera on the windowsill of the bathroom window.

“Y’look pretty” he shyly implies

“Thank you baby” she blushes twirling in her light blue silk robe and pulling the white towel from her damp wavy hair

“I’m gonna start now okay, so get comfy”

He walks into the shared bathroom shutting the door behind him, pressed a kiss to his loves temple and sits on the closed toilet seat beside where she was standing.

“Hello everyone, it’s y/n y/l/n here,and um I’ve been nominated by vogue to show my makeup routine” she began

“And if you can’t tell already, I’m joined by my number one fan” she smiles motioning towards H

For most of the video H was absolutely in a trance of the girl, the way her face moved when she was applying products, to the way her soft voice spoke towards the camera, he wondered how he really got this lucky to have such an Angel.

“And this is another one of my favourite products, I’ve been using this fo-“

“I love you” he blurted

The girls cheeks heat and her mouth curls up into a small smile.

“Thank you H” she sighs

“Love you too” she gushes continuing with her video.

It wasn’t long until she finished up her video and sent it off too vogue, too finish it off, once she was finished she cleaned up all her products and was finally able to give her lover some attention.

“Did you think that went well?” She asked, still focused on clearing up.

“Darling, you did amazing” he replied, standing up and wrapping his arms around her waist, enjoying the natural scent of her.

“Hope so, it’s the biggest thing, I think I’ve ever done, y’know it being vogue and all”

“Don’t stress yourself out Angel, you did wonderful, m’sure your fans will love it” he confirmed, turning her around in his arms so he can easily access her lips for a kiss.

“How about you get comfy, and I’ll get dinner for us?” He asked

“Sounds good” she smiles kissing him once more.

——————

Within 2 hours the video was released and was already trending at number 3 on Twitter, screenshots from the video where gushed over by both y/n’s and Harry’s fans, many comments included: “ the way he’s looking at her!!” Or “soo jealous of them” this also included edits that the fans had made of the video

You felt as if your could burst, everything seemed to go perfectly, scrolling further on Twitter 95% of fangirls are frantic over the section of the video he said ‘I love you’ which even you found fair enough 3years into the relationship and butterflies would still erupt when he phrased that.

“Food will be here soon love, ordered your favourite” he claims seating himself almost on top of the girl.

“Thank you baby” she giggles keeping her eyes glued to the phone.

“What y’ laughing at”

“Cant laugh like tha and not tell” he pouts

“Just watch” she smiles handing over phone

The phone revealed a compilation on tiktok that had been fan made of all the times he gave the the girl heart eyes through the vogue video, they had just filmed, throughout the quick compilation he looked at her in complete awe and love, and the comments went frantic.

“Quite the lover boy hey?” She teases

“Cant not look, when such a girl is in-front of me love” he smiles kissing her temple.

“Plus it’s all for ‘vogue darling’” he teases thinking of the remark you made this morning.

He instinctively pulls her into his lap, keeping his arms around her waist and resting his head on hers.

“Just admit you love me, I mean, your quite cute at times y’know” y/n mutters once again on his lips

“At times? Thought I was cute all the time” he says acting offended

“Shut up” she laughs, kissing him more

————

[grotto-esque]

Article under the cut, including graphic images.

Khaled Joudeh, 9, mourning over the body of his baby sister, Misk, last month in Deir al Balah, Gaza. Credit...Samar Abu Elouf for The New York Times

Thousands of children have been killed in the enclave since the Israeli assault began, officials in Gaza say. The Israeli military says it takes “all feasible precautions” to avoid civilian deaths.

Barefoot and weeping, Khaled Joudeh, 9, hurried toward the dozens of bodies wrapped in white burial shrouds, blankets and rugs outside the overcrowded morgue.

“Where’s my mom?” he cried next to a photographer for The New York Times. “I want to see my mom.”

“Where is Khalil?” he continued, barely audible between sobs as he asked for his 12-year-old brother. A morgue worker opened a white shroud, so Khaled could kiss his brother one final time.

Then, he bid farewell to his 8-month-old sister. Another shroud was pulled back, revealing the blood-caked face of a baby, her strawberry-red hair matted down. Khaled broke into fresh sobs as he identified her to the hospital staff. Her name was Misk, Arabic for musk.

“Mama was so happy when she had you,” he whispered, gently touching her forehead, tears streaming down his face onto hers.

She was the joy of his family, relatives later said — after three boys, his parents were desperate for a girl. When she was born, they said, Khaled’s mother delighted in dressing Misk in frilly, colorful dresses, pinning her tiny curls in bright hair clips.

Misk Joudeh via Joudeh family

Through his tears, Khaled bid farewell to his mother, father, older brother and sister, their bodies lined up around him. Only Khaled and his younger brother, Tamer, 7, survived what relatives and local journalists said was an airstrike on Oct. 22 that toppled two buildings sheltering their extended family.

A total of 68 members of the Joudeh family were killed that day as they slept in their beds in Deir al Balah, in central Gaza, three of Khaled’s relatives recounted in separate interviews.

Several branches and generations of the Joudehs, a Palestinian family, had been huddling together before the strike, relatives said, including some who had fled northern Gaza, as Israel had ordered residents to do. The Israeli military said it could not address questions about a strike on the family.

In the end, members of the family were buried together, side by side in a long grave, relatives said, showing footage of the burial and sharing a picture of Misk before she was killed.

Gaza, the United Nations warns, has become “a graveyard for thousands of children.”

Determining the precise number of children killed in Gaza — in the midst of a fierce bombing campaign, with hospitals collapsing, children missing, bodies buried under rubble and neighborhoods in ruins — is a Sisyphean task. Health officials in Gaza say that 5,000 Palestinian children have been killed since the Israeli assault began, and possibly hundreds more. Many international officials and experts familiar with the way death tolls are compiled in the territory say the overall numbers are generally reliable.

If the figures are even close to accurate, far more children have been killed in Gaza in the past six weeks than the 2,985 children killed in the world’s major conflict zones combined — across two dozen countries — during all of last year, even with the war in Ukraine, according to U.N. tallies of verified deaths in armed conflict.

A wounded child arriving at Al-Nasr Hospital in Khan Younis, Gaza. Credit...Yousef Masoud for The New York Times

The body of a child pulled from rubble in Khan Younis. Credit...Yousef Masoud for The New York Times

The funeral of a child in Khan Younis on Oct. 26. Credit...Yousef Masoud for The New York Times

The Israeli military says that, unlike the “murderous assault against women, children, elderly and the disabled” by Hamas on Oct. 7, Israeli forces take “all feasible precautions” to “mitigate harm” to civilians.

Hamas, the military said, deliberately caused “the maximum amount of harm and brutality possible to civilians.” During the attack on Israel, parents and their children were gunned down inside their homes, witnesses and officials say, with children taken as hostages.

In response, the Israeli military says, it is waging a war “forcefully to dismantle Hamas military and administrative capabilities.” It notes that Israeli forces have told residents to flee to southern Gaza, and says that they issue warnings before airstrikes “when possible.”

But the furious pace of the strikes — more than 15,000 to date, according to the Israeli military, including in southern Gaza as well — makes the Israeli bombing campaign on the Palestinian territory one of the most intense of the 21st century. And it is happening in a dense urban enclave under siege with high concentrations of civilians, particularly children, setting off mounting global alarm, even from some of Israel’s closest allies.

After initially questioning the death toll reported by health officials in Gaza, the Biden administration now says that “far too many” Palestinians have been killed, conceding that the true figures for civilian casualties may be “even higher than are being cited.”

So many children are brought into the morgue at Al-Aqsa Hospital in Deir al Balah that the morgue director, Yassir Abu Amar, says he has to cut his burial shrouds into child-size fragments to handle the influx of corpses.

“The children’s bodies come to us broken and in pieces,” he said. “It’s chilling.”

“We’ve never seen this number of children killed,” he added. “We cry every day. Every day, we cry while we’re working to prepare the children.”

During previous wars, parents in Gaza, a crowded strip with more than two million people, sometimes put their children to bed in different rooms of their homes. If an airstrike damaged one part of the house, the other children might live.

Given the scale of the bombardment this time — which many Gazans describe as indiscriminate and without warning — some parents have put much greater distances between their children, splitting them up and sending them to relatives in different parts of the Gaza Strip to try to increase their odds of survival. Others have taken to scrawling names directly onto their children’s skin, in case they are lost, orphaned or killed and need to be identified.

In the emergency room of Al-Shifa Hospital in Gaza City, Dr. Ghassan Abu-Sittah said that many children had been brought in alone and in shock, with burns, shrapnel wounds or severe injuries from being crushed by rubble. In many cases, he said, no one knew who they were.

Waiting for treatment at Al-Shifa Hospital in Gaza City. Credit...Samar Abu Elouf for The New York Times

A wounded child was treated at Al-Aqsa Hospital in Deir al Balah. Credit...Samar Abu Elouf for The New York Times

Waiting for treatment at Al-Shifa Hospital in Gaza City. Credit...Samar Abu Elouf for The New York Times

“They are given a designation — ‘Unknown Trauma Child’ — until someone recognizes them,” he said. “The crippling thing is that some of them are the sole survivors of their family, so no one ever comes.”

“More and more, it seems like a war against children,” said Dr. Abu-Sittah.

Two weeks ago, the emergency room at Al-Shifa registered “Unknown Trauma Child 1,500,” Dr. Abu-Sittah said.

Then, in recent days, Israeli forces stormed the hospital, where thousands of Gazans had been sheltering, saying that the facility sat above an underground Hamas command center. United Nations officials warned that the raid put Gaza’s most vulnerable in even greater jeopardy.

International experts who have worked with health officials in Gaza during this and other wars say that hospitals and morgues in the enclave gather and report the names, ID numbers and other details of people who have been killed in the territory. While the experts urged caution around public statements about the specific number of people killed in a particular strike — especially in the immediate aftermath of a blast — they said the aggregate death tolls reported by health workers in Gaza have typically proven to be accurate.

The Israeli military says it “regrets any harm caused to civilians (especially children),” adding that it is examining “all its operations” to ensure that it follows its own rules and adheres to international law.

But a growing number of human rights groups and officials contend that Israel has already broken that law.

After condemning the “heinous, brutal and shocking” attacks by Hamas as war crimes, Volker Türk, the United Nations high commissioner for human rights, said this month, “The collective punishment by Israel of Palestinian civilians amounts also to a war crime, as does the unlawful forcible evacuation of civilians.”

“The massive bombardments by Israel have killed, maimed and injured in particular women and children,” he added. “All of this has an unbearable toll.”

Some international officials warn that children are in danger no matter where they go. “There is nowhere safe for Gaza’s one million children to turn,” said Catherine Russell, the director of UNICEF.

On Oct. 15, Dr. Mohammad Abu Moussa said that he was on a 24-hour shift at Al-Nasr Hospital in Khan Younis — south of the evacuation line drawn by Israel — when he heard a loud explosion nearby. He called his wife at home, but when she answered, he said, all he heard were screams.

Soon, he said, his wife, 12-year-old daughter and 9-year-old son were brought into the emergency room, bloodied, hysterical and covered in dust from rubble. He tried to comfort them, but panicked when he noticed that his youngest son, 7-year-old Yousef, was not with them.

“Where’s Yousef?” he recalled asking.

No one would answer.

When he pressed again about his son, he said a neighbor simply responded, “May God have mercy on his soul.”

Yousef Abu Moussa Credit...via Mohammad Abu Moussa

Dr. Abu Moussa didn’t want to believe it. Video from journalists at the hospital shows him frantically searching for Yousef. Dr. Abu Moussa recounted how he had asked other departments, including the intensive care unit, whether his son had been rushed there instead.

Then, he said, a journalist showed him pictures of their demolished home. Dr. Abu Moussa said he recognized the gray clothing Yousef had been wearing when he kissed him goodbye before leaving the house.

With dread, Dr. Abu Moussa walked from the emergency room to the hospital morgue. That’s where he said he finally found Yousef, a jokester with a cheeky smile who stuck out his tongue in photographs. Now, his lifeless body was lying on a gurney.

The shock was too much to bear. Dr. Abu Moussa recalled looking away before a colleague embraced him.

Multiple relatives said that airstrikes had hit their home without warning, and that Dr. Abu Moussa’s family had been pulled from the rubble. The Israeli military said it could not address questions about a strike on the family.

“Yousef was a very loved child,” said his mother, Rawan, a fitness instructor. “He was always smiling. He loved to laugh and make people laugh.”

At home, the boy had wanted to eat every meal next to his father, or in his lap, sometimes even sharing the same spoon.

“He would emulate me in everything I did,” Dr. Abu Moussa said, adding that his son had wanted to become a doctor as well.

Yousef was not the only one killed. Dr. Abu Moussa’s brother, Jasir Abu Moussa, lost both of his sons and his wife, family members said.

Dr. Abu Moussa’s nephew Hmaid, 18, had recently graduated from high school with high marks, the family said. He got his love of cars from his father and, from his mother, a love of poetry and art. He had hopes of studying mechanical engineering in Europe, relatives said, and had begun studying German even as he was studying for his high school exams.

His younger brother, Abdulrahman, 8, was even smarter, the family said. He was killed, too.

“He was a handful,” Jasir Abu Moussa said of his younger son. “But he was also very smart, and delightful.”

Death colors the living, as well.

Many children are showing clear signs of trauma, including night terrors, said Nida Zaeem, a mental health field officer with the International Committee of the Red Cross in Gaza.

Families in Khan Younis leaving their homes to seek shelter after an explosion. Credit...Yousef Masoud for The New York Times

Wounded children in Khan Younis. Credit...Samar Abu Elouf for The New York Times

Children inspecting their family’s home after a blast in Gaza City. Credit...Samar Abu Elouf for The New York Times

“They are waking up shouting, screaming,” Ms. Zaeem said from a Red Cross shelter in Rafah, in the south, where she is staying with her family, including four children. Each night, she added, children in the shelter yell, “We’re going to die, we’re going to die.”

“They are shouting, pleading, ‘Please protect me, please, please hide me. I don’t want to die,’” she added.

In an encampment sheltering thousands of people around a United Nations center, Hammoud Qadada, 4, tried to focus on a video game inside a tent as the thundering sound of strikes were close enough to shake the ground beneath him.

When the soccer players on the screen scored, everyone in the tent — his siblings, cousins and other children from the makeshift encampment — yelled “goooaaal” so loudly that people in nearby tents thought a cease-fire had been announced.

Their parents had hooked up a television to a solar panel and, when it seemed safe enough, people played real soccer outside between the tents — trying to distract the children.

It wasn’t enough.

The next morning, Hammoud’s grandmother said he woke up and said, “I’m going to die.”

“I told him no,” said his grandmother Hanaan Jaber, 53. “God willing, you will grow up and you will get married and tell your children what happened with us here, like a story.”

Hammoud’s vocabulary has already been shaped by the war. Soon after it started, he asked his parents what “martyrdom” meant. When asked what is happening around him, he answers without hesitation: “Airstrikes. Airstrikes and war.”

Gaza, a coastal strip where cabanas and food shacks line the Mediterranean, once had a lively beach culture. Yasser Abou Ishaq, 34, recalled how he used to teach his three young daughters how to swim.

“They were always asking me to go to the beach, to the amusement park, to the parks,” he said. “I loved watching them play.”

Amal, his oldest, 7, was named after his mother. At school, she was a good student with excellent penmanship, he recalled. At home, she became the teacher who made her younger sister Israa, a 4-year-old who loved chocolate and Kinder toys, play along as the student.

From left: Habiba Abou Ishaq, 1, and her sisters, Israa, 4, and Amal, 7. Credit...via Yasser Abou Isha

When his home was destroyed by what he said was an airstrike, he lost them both, he said. His wife was killed as well, he said.

In all, 25 members of his family, 15 of them children, have been killed, he said. Local journalists reported a strike and shared footage of bodies in burial shrouds — members of the Abou Ishaq family, they said — lined up on the ground as relatives cried over them. The Israeli military said it could not address questions about a strike on the family.

Mr. Abou Ishaq said that he and his 1-year-old daughter, Habiba, had been wounded and taken to the hospital. Most of his family, including his wife and Amal, were pulled from the rubble the same day and buried by relatives, he said, while he was still being treated. He never got the chance to say goodbye, he said.

The next day, Israa’s body was pulled from the rubble, he said. He was able to see her in the hospital’s morgue and hold her one last time.

“I hugged and kissed her. I said goodbye and I cried,” he said. “God only knows how much I cried.”

Mourning relatives outside the morgue of Al-Aqsa Hospital in Deir al Balah. Credit...Samar Abu Elouf for The New York Times

Reporting was contributed by Alan Yuhas, Samar Abu Elouf, Ameera Harouda and Abu Bakr Bashir

[mywifeleftme]

227: Jim Sullivan // U.F.O.

U.F.O. Jim Sullivan 1969, Monnie

Jim Sullivan’s U.F.O. has become one of the best-known private press records of the late 1960s, thanks largely to the tireless efforts of Light in the Attic’s Matt Sullivan (no relation), who by his own admission became obsessed with Jim’s music and the mystery of his 1975 disappearance in the New Mexico desert. Backed by members of the Wrecking Crew, the session aces who served as Phil Spector’s house band, U.F.O. is a fine folk rock record that at times leaps up into something more (“Highways,” “Jerome,” “Sandman”). Since Jim’s finally received the flowers that eluded him in life, I wanted to use this space to highlight six lesser-known private press folkies you might also want to explore.

Tarp Clancy

The reclusive Clancy recorded a series of 10” EPs in the early 1960s at his rudimentary cabin studio in Muhlenberg County, the heart of Kentucky coal country. An elderly former miner who had lost most of his picking hand when a vial of nitroglycerine he was transporting ignited in his glove, Clancy homebrewed a mechanical strumming prosthesis. He would loop a cord around his neck that allowed him to cleverly control the tempo of his metal claw by moving his head and shoulder, though over time he began to suffer from nerve damage and light-headedness from the way it constricted blood flow to his brain. The EPs, recorded solo on acoustic guitar and dulcimer, have a poignant jerkiness to them that matches his lyrical obsessions with isolation, tribulation, and grisly industrial accidents. They were distributed in extremely limited quantities through ads in the local Baptist church’s circular and were forgotten until one of the discs was discovered by Brooklyn DJ Anathius Taylor at a goodwill while visiting his family home (Beechland Plantation). Clancy himself disappeared (nearly) without a trace sometime around 1970, though in 1985 a claw of his design was discovered buried under the Jefferson Davis memorial in Fairview, Kentucky during routine maintenance on the obelisk.

Key song: “Cold Fingers”

Remy “Mad Crawdad” Beauregard

Beauregard grew up in a vibrant 1920s Louisiana Cajun community and learned to play guitar from his father. His parents raised him to venerate Governor (and later Senator) Huey Long, and the day Long was assassinated was the day Remy Beauregard would say he lost his innocence. “It was like being told they killed Santa Claus,” he later wrote in his journals, “I felt all the magic and hope in the world drain from me in a matter of seconds.” Hopelessness drove the young man to street crime, joining the infamous Les Gamins gang, and he soon ran afoul of the law. A boy called Remy Beauregard went into juvie, and a violent criminal called “The Mad Crawdad” came out, albeit one with a remarkable gift for the accordion.

Remy had a few close calls with greatness: after visiting 439 Baronne a few times, and even getting to jam with the legendary George Girard, Orin Blackstone made moves to begin recording the young man. Only two recordings survive, “Where, Mother?”/ “Dandelions” and “I've Got Nine” / “Life Will Screw You,” the latter an extremely rare shellac 10" thought lost for decades. Unfortunately, another run-in with the law hampered his burgeoning musical career, as Remy bludgeoned a man to death in a drunken bar fight, spending the next six weeks in prison. While in the slammer, Remy found Jesus, and upon his release the newly sober musician recorded the Forgiveness LP. It is a desperate and cynical record, the product of a self-loathing man seeking a salvation he knows he will never achieve. His sobriety would be short-lived, and he drank himself to death in 1957 having lived a life in near-complete obscurity. His final single, released posthumously, was titled “Why Did You Leave Us, Mr. Long?”

A career-spanning compilation is set to be released by Light in the Attic records in late 2024, titled Crawdad Sings! with liner notes by Dan Auerbach of The Black Keys. — D.J.C.

Key Song: “Life Will Screw You”

Jeramie Laramy

The Vietnam War inspired some of the most powerful protest songs of the 20th century, from “Eve of Destruction” to “Napalm Sticks to Kids.” But Jeramie Laramy stood virtually alone in 1975 when he sang the words “first my mother left me / with a man called Dan / then my country abandoned the brave people / of South Vietnam.” Laramy was a Canadian who renounced his citizenship and moved to San Francisco, California in 1967 in hopes of being drafted, but due to his complicated residency situation he was deemed ineligible. Referred to in Jerry Garcia’s memoirs as “a vicious simpleton,” he nevertheless took up the guitar and began busking, with primitive yowlers like “Mr. Saigon” and “Hippy Dachau” anticipating punk rock by nearly a decade. Laramy's music won him few admirers in the burgeoning counter-culture, but he was embraced by Hells Angels-affiliate Andre “Baby” Jane, who bought him studio time he used to record 1972's Jungle Mower LP, a commercial failure. After an intense, inadvertent psychedelic experience at the Berdoo Angels' clubbouse, Laramy's music became more abstract, culminating in the geographically-confused psych-folk double A-side “Seoul Stealers” / “I Wished Upon a Machine Gun.” He disappeared in 1976.

Key song: “I Wished Upon a Machine Gun”

Liesl Eddy

Alan Lomax called Liesl Eddy “the only woman prison singer who mattered.” Mississippi Fred McDowell called her “that miserable mute bitch.” Eddy was no one’s idea of a sweetheart, but even a cursory scan of her biography makes plain why she had to be tough. Raised Liesl Edzurbriggen by stern Swiss-German Calvinist tenant farmers in dustbowl-era Kansas, her parents forbade her from speaking in the belief that the family was being spied upon by papists. As she aged into young adulthood, Eddy’s muteness brought her into frequent, violent conflict with townsfolk in the nearby community of Arkansas, and she was eventually sentenced to eight years in prison after braining a local furrier with a cast-iron skillet.

Despite suffering from Marfan syndrome, Eddy was tremendously strong, and there was concern that she was too dangerous for women’s prison. Thus, in 1934 she became the only female inmate at Georgia’s notorious Lillyfold Penitentiary, where she worked breaking rocks on a chain gang. It was in prison however that Eddy’s unusual vocal talents were discovered. Despite her continued refusal to speak, she possessed a deep, southern-accented singing voice, and it was said that she alone could drown out a 20-man gang. Certainly it’s her lungs that stand out on the Lomax-recorded album of chain gang songs and spirituals Let Us Be Released (From Her) (1937), on which the tension between Eddy and her fellow prisoners is palpable.

Following a violent brawl that saw six men injured, Eddy was moved to solitary confinement, where Lomax was able to convince prison authorities to allow her use of a cigar box guitar. Eddy’s surprisingly vulgar, raunchy country blues tunes like “Hogmeat Driver Rag” and “No’ Mo’ Cone Pone” led the blushing musicologist to suppress her recordings for decades, though due to a clerical error “Liesl’s Idyll” was included on some early pressings of Lead Belly’s Negro Sinful Songs in 1939 before the mistake was noted. Eddy’s trail goes cold after her release in 1942, but following Lomax’s death her work was rediscovered. Her catalogue was issued for the first time in 2015 as Sugah On Mah Tongue: The Silenced Sessions on Lena Dunham’s Muff Trade Records.

Key song: “Liesl’s Idyll”

Cleodora Thanks

Raised by roving bead peddlers in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, Cleodora Thanks relocated to Greenwich Village in the late 1950s and founded a rooming house where a number of the brightest names in folk music spent time, including Bob Dylan, Dave Van Ronk, and Horace Plenty. Although her cooking was so noxious Laura Nyro was reportedly briefly hospitalized by a casserole, Thanks was regarded as a mother figure by many of her tenants. Dylan made her the subject of his unreleased song “Big Momma I Don’t Know Blues,” while Joan Baez has claimed Thanks made uncredited contributions to a number of early Joni Mitchell songs. Thanks’ own culinary-obsessed music, which joins the earthy blues of a Bessie Smith with the subtlety of Bette Midler amid hints of gypsy jazz and klezmer, was largely unknown in her time, and she vanished in 1983 on her way to a state fair near Syracuse. New York-based archivist Karl Nard of Swede Nothing Records discovered a cache of unsold LPs in the basement of Thanks’ former rooming house after his uncle purchased the property. Thanks' soon to be reissued work represents a crucial missing lunch in the story of mid-century American folk music.

Key song: “Peanut Brittle Elegie”

Jimmy Whaley the Folk-Song-Singing Crocodile

Jimmy Whaley was a crocodile that sang folk songs. Believed to be an urban legend for years until his existence was confirmed by Desmond Morris, the man who discovered an elephant who could paint and made a BBC documentary about how women don't know what bicycles look like and desire horses. As Jimmy was only able to speak English while singing, most of what we know of his life is what has been parsed from those songs that have been tentatively identified as autobiographical. He was probably born in the Nile River, before stowing away in a cargo ship in the Suez Canal and making his way to Boston, and then the Appalachians, where he lived and sang for locals with a banjo he plucked with a back claw. His life was cut short when he was tragically shot after being speciesally profiled as an alligator by a poacher in East Texas. His remains are displayed at the Stephen Foster Folk Music Center in Chattanooga, Tennessee, in the form of a handbag. An anthology of Jimmy's early work comprising several selections from the Great American Songbook, AmeriCroc, is forthcoming from Smithsonian Croakways Records. — D.J.C.

Key song: “America (My Country 'Tis of Thee)”

Prepared with the assistance of D. John Christie, Osgoode Hall Law Special Collections

[dustedmagazine]

Carl Stone — Electronic Music from 1972-2022 (Unseen Worlds)

Electronic Music from 1972-2022 by Carl Stone

Unseen Worlds brings us their third installment of Carl Stone archival releases. Following "Electronic Music from the Seventies and Eighties" and "Electronic Music from the Eighties and Nineties," "Electronic Music from 1972-2022" makes a stab at filling in some of the gaps from Stone's sizable list of works. Presumably by the time this review gets published Stone will have added another release to his vast discography from the last 50 years.

"Electronic Music from 1972-2022" offers an until now unheard documentation of Stone's very earliest work in the two compositions "Three Confusongs" and "Ryouund Thygizunz," both realized in 1972 at CalArts, where Stone was studying with the composers Morton Subotnick and James Tenney. The voice of Carl's old friend and band mate, the late Z'ev (at this time still known as Stefan Weisser) was used on both these pieces. In stark contrast to the other tracks on this compilation, "Three Confusongs" and "Ryouund Thygizunz" develop slowly with heavy use of delays and resonance. Yet similarly to Stone's later works' extensive use of sampling, recordings of the voice of Z'ev reading his concrete poems provide the basic working material that launches in motion these haunting and mysterious pieces.

It was also while studying at CalArts that Stone's sampling practice found its future direction. Working as an archivist in the school's library, Stone got saddled with the job of transferring thousands of vinyl records to tape. This saturated Stone's ears with a vast and seemingly incongruous selection of music that included classical repertoire, electronic composition, world music and jazz, just to name a few. Stone had to transfer multiple discs at the same time, thus creating incorrigibly random collisions from this wealth of archival material. Through this process Stone began to see the juxtaposition and repetition of musical soundbytes as the modus operandi for his compositional practice.

Working in a vein with much in common to the use of sampling in hip hop, Stone has never shied away from plumbing the depths of popular music in a fearless and unabashed disregard for any notions of what might be regarded as good taste. It is perhaps this attitude, as much as the actual samples themselves, that imbues much of Stone's work with a heavy dose of humor and playful confrontation. The composition "Vim"  from 1987 provides a good case in point, with samples from The Beach Boys' "Fun Fun Fun" being looped and chopped nearly beyond all recognition while still creating this nagging feeling of "Where have I heard this before?" Only towards the very end of the piece does it become apparent what one has just been subjected to in the form of this insidious earworm.

Stone's work can also be eminently danceable, often employing samples of drums and percussion in a process of accretion that can lead to dizzying heights of tension and release, not far in essence from Derrick May's work, such as the seminal "Strings of Life" from1987. Stone adds to this his experience from the trippy sixties, notching up the density and movement of his compositions till they take on a distinctly psychedelic feel. One can imagine whirling dervishes, The Master Musicians of Joujouka or your favorite neighborhood rave where ecstasy meets a discombobulated vortex of looping samples and very grooving beats.

Parallel to a summary of Stone's work during this fifty years, "Electronic Music from 1972-2022" also gives an overview of the development in electronic music technology which, as much as any conceptual preoccupations, often seems to have provided the impetus for much of the development in Stone's compositions. From working with Buchla synthesizers at CalArts to early samplers and Apple computers, each advancement in all this musical hard- and software has enabled Stone to dig deeper into his proclivity for iteration and sonic disorientation.

Track eight, the 2007 piece "L'os a Moelle," is a good example of this. Developed during a residency at the Groupe de Recherches Musicales studios in Paris, Stone devised a way of injecting new musical material into the shell of another piece of music. In the case of "L'os a Moelle,"  this involves using a brazenly strutting sixties rock riff as the shell and injecting a cavalcade of disparate and confusing samples, all following the tonal and rhythmic form of the original riff, which by the end of the piece has become completely subsumed by the injection of sampled material. If this description sounds confusing, then wait until you hear the track.

Three pieces from 2022 close out this compilation and in a way encapsulate all the ideas and techniques from the preceding tracks. For long-standing fans or listeners just discovering Stone's work, "Electronic Music from 1972-2022"  will provide a fascinating look back over this composer's output from the last 50 years, straddling that fine line between rigorous experimentation and hilarious irreverence.

Jason Kahn

[sylviareviar]

Previous - Next

Professor Laventon had taken the boy he'd found straight to Jubilife Village, where he knew the Galaxy Expedition Team had the resources to help the boy. Although Rowlet had flown off ahead of time, its presence was still startling to the members of the Galaxy Expedition Team, who couldn't quite get used to having a Pokémon present in the building that wasn't as well-behaved as Captain Cyllene's Abra.

As a result, many of the Security Corps guards flinched away from Rowlet, who had been screeching and hollering at the top of its mighty little lungs until someone did something. It finally took, ironically enough, Captain Cyllene's Abra to calm the Grass-type Pokémon down enough to give out orders.

"Professor Laventon found a weak young boy collapsed on Prelude Beach and is now trying to save him from choking on seawater and sand."

Upon hearing these words, Pesselle immediately began gathering a stretcher and emergency supplies, but Captain Cyllene stopped her.

"There's no time," she had said, a stern frown on her face. "Abra will use Teleport to bring him straight here. I will watch you prepare a bed for him. Abra can use me as a beacon."

It still felt strange, in all honesty. Pesselle was never really for or against Pokémon. At least, that's what she'd always thought. But seeing the Survey Corps Captain use her partner Pokémon's abilities without even a second thought, just like that... Of course it was useful, but... it was strange. She wasn't used to it. Dazed, and a little bit uneasy, she prepared the last bed she had available for the boy. The small cot in the corner, reserved for visitors of Jubilife Village, such as members of the Diamond or Pearl Clans or the Ginkgo Guild.

Her mind wandered as she'd prepared the cot for the boy. The acceptance of Pokémon was a rather modern concept, after all, and not everyone would be so... accepting or understanding as the Professor seemed to be. She could tell, after Captain Cyllene had requested to move from Security Corps to create the Survey Corps upon Professor Laventon's arrival, that Commander Kamado wasn't thrilled about the idea of living alongside Pokémon, and was only convinced because of Cyllene's impeccable skill in arguing her point. Truly, Cyllene was another breed of human, one whom Pesselle admired deeply.

That people and Pokémon could live in harmony... It had always been brushed off as idealistic or even brutish until now. Along comes Rei, a boy and his stubborn little Pikachu who doesn't always listen to what he has to say. Rei was the only one in the entire town brave enough to join the Survey Corps to help the Professor, but even with his assistance progress is slow. So far, the Professor only had about five entries in the Pokédex he was beginning to compile: that of the three Pokémon he himself gathered and brought to Hisui: Cyndaquil, Oshawott, and Rowlet; Rei's Pikachu; and Cyllene's Abra. Even then, the information given on them was limited.

Cyndaquil's back can erupt in flames when surprised or irate. Seems shy but can be surprisingly demanding. Humble but strong. Takes care of others.

Only four known moves, and its basic "typing," a categorical system pioneered by the Professor himself, was classified as "Fire." Fair enough. It does have flames on its back--sometimes. How strange that the circular markings on its fur can spontaneously combust the way they do. Dangerous, too. Is it really okay to have a Fire-type Pokémon inside a building? Professor Laventon had argued it'd be fine in the Galaxy Hall, because the building was made of bricks.

Regardless, her doubts about Pokémon hadn't subsided. Even as Cyllene's Abra successfully Teleported the boy and--to Pesselle's surprise, Cyndaquil, who was in his arms, emanating heat and dangerously on the verge of sparking some flames on its back--she had gotten to work right away, finishing off the clumsy work the Professor had attempted to do to keep the boy from choking on his own spit and the water in his lungs. A Heimlich Maneuver and the Professor's entire sprint back to the village later, Pesselle had managed to grab some measurements and write down some information about the boy.

Looks to be about sixteen or seventeen years old, approximately 172cm--or, in the Professor's units of measurement, 5'8"--and since he wasn't conscious, she wasn't able to write down a weight for him yet. In appearance, he was rather fair-skinned, freckles dotting his face, elbows, wrists, and calves, and he had snowy white hair stuck in clumps with dried sea salt and eyes as blue and clear as the sky had been earlier that day. He was... very oddly dressed. His shirt was not folded in any way, and was far too thin to be a proper kimono. His trousers were strange, in that they had pockets, but she could not tell if they were shorts or pants, because they stopped at his knees. And of course, he was entirely barefoot, with rocks digging into his feet. She had to clean and bandage the small wounds on them, and it would be a little painful to walk for a day or two, but he should be fine after that.

Pesselle had Rei urgently call Lady Anthe over to assess his clothes and provide him with new ones, as these were utterly soaked through and would only serve to harm him if he continued to wear them. She provided him with one of her everyday kimonos, but even as she took the clothing away, she said she hadn't recognized them in the slightest. They were not Galarian, nor were they from the neighboring regions, and Kalos didn't have anything quite like that.

"It's odd," she mused, "but I don't recognize any of these clothes at all. I'll be sure to take good care of them until the boy wakes--he may be able to shed some light on where he comes from by the time he comes to collect them."

"Please do," Pesselle had requested with an earnest bow. "I'm sure Commander Kamado would like to know as well."

With a nod, Anthe left and Pesselle was on her own with the boy.

Well, on her own with a rogue Fire-type Pokémon who hadn't once left his side unguarded even for a moment. Although Pesselle had finished her examinations, she tried to remove Cyndaquil from his grasp--after all, waking to a Pokémon in his arms wouldn't be good for him, if he was anything like the rest of the villagers here. But Cyndaquil didn't listen. As soon as Pesselle's hand came close, the flames on her back sprang to life, forcing her to jolt away before she was burned. And, just as quickly as they had appeared, the flames died down, before they had a chance to burn the sheets that Cyndaquil was now burrowing into.

It was like this for a while. Pesselle would allow Cyndaquil "just twenty more minutes" to warm the boy up, but when it came time to pull them apart, Cyndaquil stubbornly refused. By nightfall, Pesselle gave up and simply sat there, watching helplessly as the little Pokémon occasionally glanced up, sniffed at his chin, folded itself in different ways, and rested, and as the boy stirred in his sleep, unconscious and confused, his hands holding on to the warmth of the uncanny creature in his grasp.

"Where did you say this boy came from again?"

"Well, I only saw him as the three Pokémon ran after him, you understand, but... Well, I'm sure you saw it too, did you not? Those three shooting stars from atop Mt. Coronet? I'm certain this boy was one of them!"

"Professor, you're suggesting this boy fell from the sky. From the space-time rift! Are you mad?"

"Madame Pesselle, please, you know I only concern myself with facts! Think about it! This strange device that was in the boy's hand... His clothing, his convenient location! One of those shooting stars went past Lake Verity, I'm certain of it! And what lies beyond Lake Verity? The ocean! The ocean currents must have brought him ashore to Prelude Beach!"

"Professor, it's likely he's been frigid for several hours now. If he fell from the sky, I've no clue if he will even survive!"

"Madame Pesselle, please!--"

"I'm not saying I will not help him, but if what you say is true then I fear we may be too late. If there are other human beings on the other ends of those shooting stars across Hisui, we can only pray for their safety now."

When the boy had first come in, she'd pried the strange item from his cold, stiff hands. It lay awkwardly on the chair at his side, eerie and odd-looking. Just as odd as the rest of him.

It hadn't taken her as long as she thought it would have to stabilize the boy. Begrudgingly, she had to admit that Cyndaquil's presence really did help somewhat. Now the boy was safely stirring in his sleep, likely disturbed by dreams of some kind. He moved, breathed, shifted... All it would take now was rest to complete his recovery.

"Professor, if we want the boy to recover, I need to ask that you remove Cyndaquil from his person."

"I can't do that."

"Why not?"

"Cyndaquil is worried, and all she is doing is using her natural body heat to warm him up. Surely that can't be harmful?"

"Well, no, but... if he wakes to a Pokémon in his arms and panics--"

"I don't think he will, Madame."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Why, it's simple!" he had beamed. "Pokémon are very good judges of character, I think. Or, perhaps, it's just my three. Still, I think it's worth noting. My Pokémon don't often listen to me because I fail to live up to their expectations. In truth, I am not the valuable partner that they need me to be. And, of course, I've seen how my little ones avoid the rest of the villagers. It's quite clear that they understand when they aren't wanted. And yet, I find it quite intriguing, that Cyndaquil in particular is so drawn to this young boy. This young man, alien in many ways, who seems to have fallen from the heavens themselves. Do you not find it fascinating?"

Pesselle had sighed deeply. "Professor, please do not make my patient your next science experiment..."

"Oh, no, of course not! I wouldn't dream of it! Not without his consent, of course. And it isn't an experiment, Madame, it is a research project. I'm not that kind of scientist, you know!"

"Mm-hm. Right."

When Pesselle had mentioned to him about how Cyndaquil wouldn't leave, she requested a copy of Cyndaquil's entry in the Pokédex, so that she could watch the creature overnight.

Now she sat, tapping her brush idly as she read over the little information she had on her desk about it, sighing to herself as the moon passed overhead outside, stewing in her thoughts.

Union between people and Pokémon, huh...?

After everything she'd been through today, and as she watched the strange white-haired boy groan under his breath, tormented by something behind his closed eyelids that only he could see, slowly calm down when Cyndaquil pushed her snout into his neck and began pulsing short, small flames from her back in a steady, comforting rhythm, something in her heart fluttered with nervous excitement.

Maybe, she thought, looking at the two of them, a small creature of dangerous elements comforting a small, frail, near-sick human being.

Maybe the Professor had a point.

[randomvarious]

Today’s compilation:

The Best of the Sound of Sunshine 1991 Disco / Disco-Funk / Funk / Soul

Today I took a look at T.K. Records, an independent label from Miami that played a foundational role in helping to grow and spread disco music worldwide while the genre was still in its mid-70s infancy and then continued on as a Billboard Dance chart staple until its untimely demise in 1981. Had it not been for T.K., it's actually entirely possible that the disco era as we know it may have never even occurred 😮.

And it all starts with this album's opener, the blissfully dreamy and unexpected #1 single that's now managed to sell over *11 million records worldwide,* George McCrae's 1974 debut, "Rock Your Baby." It was written by two members of KC & the Sunshine Band, Harry Wayne Casey and Richard Finch, shortly before that group would become their own force to be reckoned with. And the funny thing about this particular song is that it sort of happened on a bit of a whim: McCrae was only called in because KC & the Sunshine Band couldn't sing the high notes themselves. And they'd also intended for George's wife, Gwen, whose career he also managed, to record it, but she didn't make it to the session in time. George didn't even have any solo career to speak of at that point and was actually planning on going back to college, but that recording invitation ended up changing everything for not only him, but also KC & the Sunshine Band, T.K. Records itself, and even the trajectory of disco music as a whole since the tune became one of the genre's first ever feats. And it's also one of the first songs to *ever use a drum machine* too. So, it's literally a world-changing record. And I also happen to think that it's one of the greatest songs that's ever been made, period; like, top-ten-status. Seriously, it’s *that* good.

And the unprecedented success of "Rock Your Baby" then paved the way for KC & the Sunshine Band to keep the still nascent disco wave going on their own, with two of their first *five #1 hits in a five-year span* being released within just four months of each other in 1975: "Get Down Tonight" and "That's the Way (I Like It)," both of which have become genre-defining disco playlist staples and are also featured on this album.

KC & the Sunshine Band would then anchor T.K.'s roster throughout most of its remaining existence, but Harry Wayne Casey and Richard Finch would also co-write more songs for other acts on the label too, including a terrific piece of uptempo funky soul by the one and only Betty Wright, whose "Where Is the Love," released by T.K. sublabel Alston, barely managed to scrape the Hot 100 in 1975, but ended up peaking at #2 on the Dance Club chart.

And T.K. had other successes that didn't involve KC & the Sunshine Band too. One example is another global chart-topper in 1979 from one-hit wonder Anita Bell, who recorded "Ring My Bell" for T.K. subsidiary Juana. The rest of the label's songs that didn't involve KC & the Sunshine Band didn't fare nearly as well as that one, but The Bahamas' T-Connection managed to top the Dance chart for a full seven weeks in 1977 with "Do What You Wanna Do," which appears on this album alongside another excellent track of theirs from the following year called "At Midnight," which peaked at #3 on the Dance chart.

And closing out this album, much like it began, is another chill disco bop that features a great lead male falsetto on it in Foxy’s “Party Boys.” Released in 1980 as the band’s final single, it’s equipped with a fat bassline and some nice, soft touches of organ. It never made the Hot 100, but it peaked at #24 on the Dance chart. and it's proven itself to have been a pretty damn fine swan song for the group.

Now, I wouldn't say that this album fully entails what the best of T.K. Records and its many subsidiaries was, because, for that to happen, at least five of these songs would've had to have been by KC & the Sunshine Band. But still, only with just two of their #1s, "Rock Your Baby," and "Ring My Bell," you can see just how integral this label was to disco's success. And beyond that list of all-time disco bangers, T.K. was also able to keep the Dance chart humming with more terrific offerings that have become much more underappreciated over the years. There's a very important slice of disco history that's packed into this album, even if it doesn't present *all* of T.K.'s greatest hits.

Highlights:

George McCrae - "Rock Your Baby" KC & the Sunshine Band - "Get Down Tonight" KC & the Sunshine Band - "That's the Way (I Like It)" Peter Brown - "Do You Wanna Get Funky With Me" Anita Ward - "Ring My Bell" T-Connection - "At Midnight" T-Connection - "Do What You Wanna Do" Jimmy "Bo" Horne - "Spank" Betty Wright - "Where Is the Love" Foxy - "Party Boys"

[penname-artist]

Made some fun self-observations today. This is a slight spoiler for a piece of writing that I'm currently working on, but it's actually not a fic.

So, inspired by Shu who was inspired by me, I've been reinspired to make a new Superlist of fanfictions from beginning to end. Note, this is stuff about every fic I have ever posted since I began posting fics. And that includes chapter by chapter for my short fic compilation series.

My total right now?

151 fanfictions have been written between 2019 and now.

I still don't have Shu's word count though, they got me there, that man is about to hit one million words in total word count on AO3 and that is not a fucking joke my dude

Anyways I made some realizations of contrast between my original Superlist at the end of Props to the Proppies (2020) and my current day Superlist.

1. I write in a very different "tone". Maybe this is only me or maybe people can also pick up on this but, is it just me realizing I use exclamation marks significantly less than I used to? I used to talk like this! A lot! It was a lot! I kinda hate it now! I'm not sure why I kept doing it for so long! But I really don't use them as much anymore so like, chill, me.

2. I write a significantly larger amount than I used to, also. Except this might have less to do with growth and change and more to do with the fact that I'm in the middle of NaNoWriMo and I am crunching words into this Superlist as much as I can. Believe me, when it drops, that thing is going to be one beefy motherfucker. (Now let's see if I can make a word count that high on other things like real fics, hmm?)

3. I gave up giving a shit about...well, a lot of shit. Like the fact that I write extremely kinky stuff, including more niche categories that may not be as understood or enjoyed by lots of viewers. I've apologized way too much for it in the past and nobody ready cares so like. You see these fucks I give? Yeah, me neither. The fucks sailed away my man. You get no fucks. I produce PWPs and there is nothing you can do to stop me.

4. I have a better memory about what I was feeling and doing around the time of writing a particular fic than the content of the fic itself. I may not remember what happens in this story, but boy do I remember the emotions coursing through my body while I was typing it up. A lot of fics come about through my need to self-express through someone else's mind and body, so that's probably to blame for all the content that comes out.

Even as I bear down hard for NaNoWriMo's brutal marathon of words, I doubt this Superlist is going to be up anytime too terribly soon. It will depend on whether I want to be posting it now or wait until the end of the year where I will have a clear cut time frame to make another Superlist for next year. Assuming I'll have fics to add then. Which, knowing me, I probably will. I mean eventually.

[thisisbeyond]

Beyond the Story

　　In 2001, Hong Kong director Wanting Cheung, perhaps out of curiosity, turned her camera on the rock youth in Shucun, a suburb of Beijing, and made a "rock movie" called "Beijing Music and Road". In fact, why did she sacrifice the near for the distant? Beyond is the good material around you.

　　The word "乐与路" that many people don't understand is an extension of "乐与路", which is the Hong Kong transliteration of Rock & Roll. But, is Beyond considered a real rock band, or is there rock music in Hong Kong?

　　People who have this kind of doubt will take European and American rock music as their standard. In front of it, Chinese rock music really pales in comparison. Beyond is not the most technically outstanding rock band, and even they prefer ordinary pop music. However, the Beatles are also simple and beautiful, which does not hinder their greatness. The bloodiness, undying heroism and idealism in Beyond's music are the essence of rock and roll. In their music, the great Great Wall is written as a broken wall, and the focus is on those innocent lives thousands of years ago; "The last sacrifice of war is children." The song "Amani" sung in Kenyan is a tribute to war. Accusation... Huang Jiaju's crying voice is a registered trademark of Beyond. It is different from today's pretentious voice. His hoarse singing carries contempt for power, sorrow for people's livelihood, and no distinction between truth and falsehood, right and wrong. The upside-down world needs a clear black and white. Boys born in the 1970s have all seen the video of Beyond's sweaty concert, where they would cross their hands to form a flying dove of peace - that was Wong Ka-kui's classic gesture when singing "Amani". In the era before Cui Jian, Black Panther, and band beaters, Beyond was the most friendly rock music for civilians.

In his last interview before his death, Wong Ka Kui said: "The biggest gain in the past 10 years is that some music fans know how to pick up the guitar and play music, know what drums are, what guitar is... It doesn't matter whether Beyond exists in the future, because we have sown the seeds The seeds began to sprout." To this day, some young people in Hong Kong still sing Beyond's songs to the stage when they form their own bands. Nicholas Tse and Lin Yilian will also sing "Glory Days" at their concerts.

　　For the Beyond band, they have been swinging between rock and business. The best-selling music may not be their favorite, and the many efforts in music may not get the greatest response. "When I first formed the band, I had a lot of fantasies and longings. I imagined that I would have my own recording studio, or even my own building or company in the future - but in the end, I only got a band room-like recording studio. This is a very difficult road to follow. ." Huang Jiaqiang said.

　　Joy and anger are also the music path of Beyond band for 20 years.

　　glory days

　　(1983-1993)

　　"Forgive me for my unruly, indulgent love of freedom in this life, even if I fall down one day." At 4:15 pm on June 30, 1993, 31-year-old Huang Jiaju fell in Japan and fell into a coma for 6 days and fell permanently. That day, that year, became the dividing line between the band Beyond’s 20 years.

　　The 10th year of Shangshuo lasted until 1983. In the popular "band" trend in Hong Kong, several boys, Wong Ka-kui, Yip Sai Wing and Wu Lin, in order to win the competition in one fell swoop, or perhaps to transcend themselves forever, they named their temporary band Beyond.

　　In the next two years, Wong Ka-kui's younger brother Wong Ka-keung and Wong Guanzhong, who designed posters for the band, joined one after another. Beyond's songs were included in the rock compilation album, and they held the "Forever Waiting" concert at their own expense, becoming the leader of Hong Kong's underground bands.

　　In 1986, when the concept of DIY had not yet been born, the Beyond band released its first album "Goodbye Ideal" with astonishing courage. The production, distribution and even the cover design were all handled by themselves. The emergence of Beyond was recognized by the mainstream music industry. It shocked the world and won a contract with a record company.

　　Going from the underground to the ground does not mean that it is finished. During the periods of "Forever Waiting", "Arab Dancing Girl" and "Modern Stage", Beyond was still lingering on the edge of the stage, waiting, until the double platinum-selling album "Secret Police" in 1988. "Earth" from the album was Beyond's first hit song and ranked among the top ten hits of the year, while "Like You" was one of the most radio-played songs in 1988. In the autumn of this year, the band was invited to perform two times at the Capital Stadium in Beijing. However, they were not very popular among Beijingers who could not understand Cantonese. Only half of the audience was left at the end of the show, and the most enthusiastic scene at the venue actually occurred when Huang Jiaju When singing Cui Jian's "Nothing". In the same year, early member Liu Zhiyuan left the group, and the four-in-one Beyond became a permanent member.

　　Songs such as "Really Love You" and "Days Gone" continued to gain ground for Beyond in 1989. They appeared in Johnnie To's movie "Lucky Star" and transformed from a simple band into an idol group. . In the early 1990s, Beyond was already Hong Kong's top band, combining the popularity of a mainstream band with the creative freedom of an underground band. 1990's "Glory Days" was a tribute to Mandela, and "The Face Party" pointed the finger at the bizarre entertainment industry. In this year, they released their first Mandarin album "The Earth", targeting Taiwan and the mainland, and its influence spread to Southeast Asia.

　　In 1991, Beyond finally got its wish and appeared in the Hong Kong Red Rocks Arena and starred in the inspirational movie "Don't Bully the Young and the Poor" (co-starred with Faye Wong, who was also a member of Xinyibao Records at the time), and "Beyond+Grasshopper", "Beyond Summer Vacation" and other obvious TV programs that leveraged the band's popularity to gain ratings also began to be popular. The company's image of "youth idol big boys" designed for the four boys reached its peak this year. At the same time, their seventh album "Hesitation" was accused of being the most commercial With a record, some people began to wonder, "Did we abandon Beyond, or did Beyond abandon us?"

　　A passionate rock musician is involved in the strange circle of youth idols. Behind his unlimited glory is a gray track, and business operations bring about split personality. Huang Guanzhong joked many years later: "Beyond won numerous awards back then. The climax of each award ceremony was not on the stage, but in the band room in the back seat on the second floor. Countless times we carried a video camera to film a certain channel." "Best Group" award, as soon as the camera turned, someone took a softball bat and swung it hard, and the exquisite rubber base burst into two quarters, and then the whole audience cheered. This is the only way to vent, and there are only a few short moments. Minutes, let us regain our self-esteem!

　　The radical behavior reflects Beyond's unwillingness to give in. They are unwilling to be just a pop rock band. Becoming an international band has always been Beyond's distant dream. "Beyond knows very well what kind of music the Hong Kong market needs. We can only lower the level as much as possible, so the ideal of breaking out of Asia is very slim." Huang Jiaqiang said. It is precisely because of this that they ended their long-term cooperation with New Art Treasure in 1992 and went to Japan to develop, almost disappearing from the Hong Kong music scene. "Our hometown cannot let go of our ideals." This phrase in "Paradise" was the cry of anger back then.

　　Beyond's dissatisfaction was not quickly healed in Japan, and initially there were big differences in music with the Japanese producers. Even so, in the first year, Beyond still delivered the "Continue the Revolution" album that was different from the past. Huang Jiaju's singing in the song "Peasant" became cold and deep, and the Japanese electronic music master Kitaro's arrangement for "The Great Wall" The music also gives this band without keyboards an ethereal and vast artistic conception.

　　"Joy and Fury" is the last record of the four-in-one Beyond. After many years of not daring to say loudly that they were musicians, Beyond broke out loudly in 1993, 10 years after forming the band. What they love is "Joy and Fury" is rock music. They were also actively preparing to hold a large-scale 10th anniversary concert at the end of the year.

　　On June 24, 1993, an accident occurred during the recording of a game show on Fuji TV in Tokyo. The Chinese music scene lost a music "revolutionary" and an era because of this program that had nothing to do with music. The four-person Beyond was written into history, and "Broad Sea and Sky" was the swan song of that year.

　　threesome

　　(1993-2003)

　　"Three monks have no water to drink" is the coldest description of Beyond after Wong Ka Kui's death, but the objective fact is that in the next 10 years, they almost did not sing any popular works. Lyricist Liu Zhuohui, who has collaborated with Beyond for a long time, said: "The music of the three of them is more self-contained, more like a Western band. They don't just sell one or two songs, but they sell the sound of a band."

　　The Doors recently regrouped, and some people mocked the veteran rock band without Jim Morrison as "the Doors." Indeed, an excellent lead singer is usually the soul of the band, just like Wong Ka Kui to Beyond. Will his departure also prevent the Beyond band from transcending themselves?

　　In the early years of Pink Floyd, Syd Barrett, the creative soul of the band, left the band due to drug problems. As a result, under the leadership of Roger Waters, the band later produced two rock music masterpieces, "Dark Side Of the Moon" and "The Wall"; Joy ​​Division's After Ian Curtis hanged himself, the remaining members reorganized New Order and also became important figures in instigating the Electro-Dance trend. We always hope that the same thing will happen to Beyond.

　　The death of Huang Jiaju made the three members feel like "we can't start before everyone is here" for a long time. To this day, they still put an empty microphone in every performance. There is a song called "We Don't Wanna Make It Without You" (We Don't Want to Play Without You) in the first album of the trio's period, "Back Seat on the Second Floor", and this sad sentence is repeated throughout the song.

　　After a year's rest, Beyond was back on the road in 1994. Anger and sadness are the keynotes of "Back Seat on the Second Floor". Wong Ka-keung, who replaced his brother as the lead singer, also intentionally or unintentionally imitated Wong Ka-kui's singing voice. Just like New Order's debut album "Movement", which still has a strong shadow of Joy Division, this is a transitional work that cannot escape the shadow of past stereotypes and sadness. After another rough "Sound", the trio of Beyond began to make new sounds in "Beyond is Wonderful" and "Please Let Go".

　　The album "Please Let Go", released in 1997, passionately describes the complex mentality of Hong Kong people in the context of the transfer of power. "Big Time" opens with a clear meaning and is full of confusion; "Please Let Go" is about the hard-to-leave mood before returning. This song won the Best Rock Song Award at the Metro Music Awards that year, and they also won the Best Rock Song of the Year. Favorite Band Award for the group and several other stations. In addition, the album also includes "Echo" written to the Hong Kong Deaf Welfare Promotion Association and "Who Named Me" written to the International Fund for Animal Welfare. They are still the Beyond who takes society as their own responsibility.

　　In the following years, Beyond successively released 5 EP records, and the pace finally seemed to be in a hurry. Wong Ka-keung said: "Although everything in Hong Kong is very advanced and developed, many places are regressing. People will not calmly appreciate the effort you put into every record. To survive in Hong Kong, if you hope to release an album every few years and be able to sell it, It's impossible for a long time." Throughout the 1990s, the idol music scene that "used waste as treasure" became more and more solid. Until the indefinite hiatus was announced, Beyond was still the only well-known band in Hong Kong. Signed to Rolling Stone Records, they once pinned their hopes on the Taiwanese music scene, but most of their Mandarin albums such as "Love and Life" received a mediocre response.

　　At the end of 1999, Beyond released the "Good Time" EP record. In the same year, their concert results were not satisfactory, and the band announced its temporary disbandment and independent development. Of course, whether a band has hits or not is not the only criterion for measuring the quality of a band, but Beyond, a trio, is in an awkward position. They are burdened by the achievements of the Wong Ka-Kui era, but at the same time they want to have more experiments in music. Wong Ka-keung said: "If Ka Kui was still with us, there would never be so much pressure, because his role in the band is like a chef in the kitchen, and we are the chefs responsible for the cooking process. There is no family Beyond is like U2 without Bono." In addition, the patience and tolerance of the music industry are no longer what they used to be. The choice of Beyond is somewhat of a helpless move.

　　This year, the three sons of Beyond reunited to release a new EP album "Together". The "20 Years of Anti-Japanese War" concert in early May was an unprecedented success, and three more performances were held in June. Beyond became a hot spot for several major record companies to compete for. Although this result is slightly ironic, it is consistent with their Appealing power is not unrelated to years of persistence. Ten years of life and death are uncertain. On the 10th anniversary of his death, Huang Jiaju, who is under the pressure of despair, should also smile when he sees the band's achievements today.

　　continue the revolution

　　——Solo years

　　There are too many bands coming out under the scary banner of revolution. However, after a year or two they fend for themselves without even the test of time. Do a group of men who have been rocking for 20 years still doubt the thoroughness of their revolution?

　　In 1998, when Beyond was 15 years old, a Hong Kong music magazine asked them to talk about their feelings. Huang Guanzhong said: "It's not that I plan to finish it after 15 years. 15 is just a neater number than 16." This can probably be read as the revolutionary slogan of these men. The belief of "Always be free and always sing my songs" has been integrated into the blood. Whether it is solo or creating for other singers, these brilliance are still the glory of Beyond.

　　Huang Guanzhong

　　Since the three separated, the former guitarist's development achievements have been the most eye-catching.

　　Wong Guanzhong set up his own recording studio and signed a contract with Universal Music. In 2001, he was the first to release his solo album "Paul Wong". His avant-garde style was staggering. The album still contains anger and agitation that have not diminished with time. Among them, "Hong Kong Must Have" and "Hong Kong Must Have" "Good Night Hong Kong" is a continuation of the social consciousness that was deeply rooted in the Beyond era. "I record my feelings about this era, rather than recording anything about this society. Although the final result is to record this society, I am actually recording myself."

　　The subsequent albums "Black and White" and "Same Root" were released one after another, both in terms of styling and songs. Their unbeatable masculine aura is clearly distinguishable from many records of minor romances, and his guitar skills and creative talents are also increasing day by day. Mature and rich, and showing signs of development towards jazz.

　　In addition to personal development, Huang Guanzhong also formed the band "Khan" with drummer Gong Shuoliang, guitarist Dino and LMF bassist Jimmy, and is committed to supporting new generation bands such as LMF. Mainland musician Zhang Yadong once wrote a song for Huang Guanzhong's first solo album. In his opinion, Huang Guanzhong's current music is much better than that of Beyond.

　　other works--

　　Nicholas Tse's "Everyone Is Stupid", Andy Hui's "Don't Let Me Drink Too Much", Karen Mok's "Oh My God", Chen Xiaodong's "Black Tie"

　　Jordan Chan's "Psycho", Stephen Chow's "Amazing", Lin Haifeng's "Diary of a Madman"/"Good Dog"

　　Wong Ka-keung

　　During the Beyond period, his younger brother Huang Jiaqiang was a silent and lovely bass player who created masterpieces such as "Cold Rainy Night". After his solo career, he set up his own recording studio at home to focus on expanding his personal space.

　　In October 2002, Huang Jiaqiang released his solo album "Be Right Back", in which he laughed, cursed, and criticized current ills. The record has both pop potential and a distinctive personal style, and is more gentle than Huang Guanzhong. "Panic Disorder", "The Letter Is There", and the collaboration with Lu Qiaoyin to perform the work "Guardian Angel" written for Faye Wong, all have good reputations.

　　other works--

　　Eason Chan's "Love Has No Control", Karen Mok's "The Believer", Leo Ku's "Intentional"/"Memory Highway", Li Huimin's "Love Breaks"/"In fact", Faye Wong's "Guardian Angel"/"Perfunctory", Jordan Chan "Good Decision", Kelly Chen "We will meet one day"

　　Ye Shirong

　　After leaving Beyond, drummer Ye Sai Wing signed a contract with EOL Records, but the company failed to honor the contract. As a result, the song "Scam" appeared on his first album "Beautiful Time Machine" released in August 2001. , although he composed nearly 40 songs, Yip Sai Wing only carefully selected 5 for publication. This record, for which he wrote, composed, and sang, was completed in the "back seat on the second floor" that brought countless brilliance to Beyond. The "back seat on the second floor" is the property of the Ye family and has been used as a rehearsal for the Beyond band for many years. ,Studio. In addition to his personal development, he also often makes guest appearances in some emerging bands. In 2002, he suffered the blow of his fiancée's unexpected death. After learning from his pain, he will produce more profound and moving works.

　　other works--

　　"The End of the World, a Cold Strange Land" by Lu Qiaoyin

　　2003.5.3 Let’s encourage each other tonight

　　Passed the ticket check, passed the security, passed the health inspection, and finally entered the Coliseum. The triangular stage echoes the harmony of only three people tonight, making up for the regret of missing one person. After a month of being deserted, it was now packed to capacity. I'm here, and I still have my mask. Are you welcome?

　　At 8 o'clock, the audience surrounded the front, rear, left and right positions. A carefree face, shaking colorful fluorescent sticks, laughing happily. What's surprising is why they...are all so young? Shouldn't I be the youngest? Are they all fans of Beyond? Don’t you know that those Beyond who still look like they are 20 years old are all middle-aged angry men in their late 40s?

　　Sitting in the front row not far from Miss Zhu Yin, seeing a group of reporters surrounding her and the spotlights flashing, everyone felt a little dizzy. Fortunately, the music suddenly started playing. Surrounded by heavy electronic music and screams, I entered another time and space. Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to our show... A deep voice called out the band members one by one in English, and the last one called out crazily: In Loving Memory: Wong Kar-kui (黄家狐). The water is boiling.

　　Ye Shirong stands tall in the middle, holding a drum stick and has blond hair; Huang Jiaqiang and Huang Guanzhong each stand at a corner of the stage, wearing black battle clothes and dazzling red hair. The blank space is the center of the front desk.

　　There was a moment of silence, the melancholy blue light was revealed, and the guitar strings jumped immediately: "Today, I watched the snow drifting by in the cold night...", a heart drifted away in the joy: it was the summer of 1993, in the past On the winding road in Clearwater Bay, the same tune played on the radio. The shadows of the trees on both sides continue to recede, the blue sky and blue sea are blowing in the breeze, Beyond, the broken wings, the days that have passed, I am not yet 20, and I am as tall as the teenagers next to me. The speeding car and the depressed mood are my green years.

　　Like most people of the same age, what they are happy about is not the Beyond in front of them, but the horse of that day. Since he left, nothing has moved me. Maybe our requirements are too high, maybe Beyond is also feeling pressured by past achievements and it is difficult to surpass them. Their myth was inadvertently brought to an end 10 years ago. I tried hard, but only ended up in despair. Probably all I can remember is the 1994 "Second Floor Back Seat" album. What's left? A Paul (Huang Guanzhong)'s celebrity girlfriend (Zhu Yin)? Shirong's fiancée who died mysteriously? Or was it Jia Qiang who won an over-age newcomer award last year? In 1999, Beyond announced an indefinite hiatus, and the three of them developed their own careers. Four years later, the band reunited for their 20th anniversary and held another concert, which led to speculation that they came here to make money. It was also because of this mentality that I didn’t have high expectations for the concert. I also heard that in order to recreate the heartwarming scene of the four Beyond brothers on the stage, they would use electronic projection of Ka Kui's image on the stage. I kept feeling uneasy. It seemed that the Beatles had to electronically synthesize John Lennon's voice. Recording an album is like working hard.

　　I saw a blurry image on the stage. "Ka Kui" was wearing a red suit, playing with the strings in front of the microphone. He was standing in the center of the stage. Paul and Ka Keung were leaning on both sides of him. Sai Wing seemed a little far away from him. Behind and above. Under the dim light, it is unreal, as untouchable as a dream. When Shirong sang, "Jia Kui left early, he is young and never grows old, and the gray track is worn into a bloody road", I vaguely felt that the voice was hoarse, and my eyes were filled with mist.

　　During the break during the concert, the members talked about their feelings with everyone. Paul said that playing music is not to drive a sports car, buy a house, and make a lot of money. He just asked everyone to remember that there is a rock band called Beyond; Sai Wing would like to thank Ka Kui, Cynthia (passed away) His girlfriend) supports him in heaven to continue to move forward bravely for music; Ka-keung believes that the environment does not allow rock music to exist in Hong Kong, and it is difficult for the band to survive because there are so many fans who will never leave. It sounds so high-sounding that it almost sounds like a line, but it is true. It is not an exaggeration to say that Beyond's last 10 years have been like a war of resistance. Just by being sincere to music, knowing that it cannot be done, and leading this revolution, Beyond is worthy of our sweat and shouts.

　　The 120-second long thunder drum call for encore (encore) is crazy. Looking around, it seemed like everyone knew where they were coming from. Sure enough, the small stage slowly rose behind him, and the three people sitting in less than a hundred feet became the focus of the camera again. Because the stage was suspended in mid-air, only those who stood high could see it clearly. After a night of madness, we no longer had any worries. We all stood on the stools - even though those were just temporary folding stools. Music takes over the soul and controls the body. I was greedy for every note floating in the air, chewing every lyric, forgetting the distance from other audiences, filming together, and singing together - "The wind and frost can't blow out the fire, no matter how much bitterness it passes..."

　　There were no guests, no tricks, but the 3-hour continuous music was meticulous. War drums thundered when it was exciting, and rain hit the sycamore trees when it was low. Looking at it, Beyond’s music is not only for our generation who grew up with him, but also for the new generation. How can good music make people feel outdated? As long as the singer never loses his innocence. Although fans from all over the world have passed tonight and returned to unrelated worlds, they would not recognize each other when they met. Just because we spent a night together tonight when the world is in chaos and inflammation is spreading, let's encourage each other freely! 

0 notes

[jonathankatwhatever]

It’s 7 July 2023. Just short of 5AM. We think, if writing is a guide, in the same modular, telegraphic manner, conveying Metaphoric Bundles.

So how do I think about you as having a different voice but one that’s the same, like an identical twin displaced in time and space, like 2 Things carved out of 1, which of course is the idea this work is built upon. For example, as a tObject, I’m countable. I have this many cells. I have whatever capabilities can be measure according to how I can be measured. I can be viewed in the classic form that any area you count about tangible me is only so deep, meaning each area is countable, meaning you can compile all these countables into a countable. You can argue that an area continues and becames infinitely deep if you allow for greater abstraction away from tangible me, but that is the point and it’s even within the gravitational constant, as discussed yesterday. (I sometimes write stuff down and think: did that really happen? Did I really reach that understanding? Wow.)

I mean that between any 2 tangible Objects is an identity in depth, literally 2SBE2 in negative exponents of 10, which is 2SBE2 of layers of SBE3+1, which is a whole lot of association within CM1. That draws the Triangular, which imposes the midpoint line that makes the Counter and which identifies the Observer, which is the generated perspective End along the O-line where each End along that line is a Counter. That needs more.

So of course an End is a Counter: it connects 1-0Segs and that is 1 and 0 counting in 1Space. A Counter at some decimal is a series of Counters for each decimal layer all projecting to that level within gs and the accompanying Triangular. That’s still a bit unclear. Think of a mirage: you see what isn’t there because you extrapolate erroneously from the data perceived. We constantly construct images, often strikingly real, and that is where I was thinking before I began typing: I noticed somethin gfrom when I was very young and we’d play and I’d notice that threads of play would terminate when they were no longer possible. This translates into algebraically possible, which is SBE identity testing. Again, see above about a 2 layer Thing: the 2SBE2 within CM1 and counted in layers of 10 is a Thing, a CM64 plus the next 10 layer at the balancing value of CM2.8, meaning that combines to make either/or choices in that next layer within. That exactly mirrors - oh, is this good? - quantum, doesn’t it? I mean it’s been there in my face for decades, that CM28 constructs with either/or CM36 within CM100, thus enabling multiple states a layer within, and I never was able to get out this thought coherently.

So if you want a blunt connection of gravity to quantum, it’s actually in the gravitational constant itself, which makes sense. I mean it should be in the constant when you see what it is. I’m floored. I had absolutely no idea that would pop out until the words ‘that exactly mirrors quantum’ appeared next.

Back to my real life experience. I found that the boy fantasies always ended because they were adventures which required a suspension or height which could not be maintained. The threads would terminate and we’d argue about that because the boy in me just wanted to drive around doing non-specific stuff with vigor. That’s an interesting way to look at separation, that we were joined but separating, if I remember to take my life as Storyline.

So the separation was metaphorically enacting. You were the planner. I can’t characterize ‘me’ as surely because some of this must be the attachment to the male shell ordering or segmenting, using as a basis, literally as a vector basis (but not exclusively as one, of course), the ‘givens’ of being a physical male.

This must be a source of anxiety, but it explains the sense, no more than a sense, the conclusion that I’ve been recovering identity through uncovering the female within, and that I make progress with this work when I do that.

Is this another 2 layer process? If the second layer is a balance, then it spawns more layers of more process, especially if you preserve the either/or through the layers. So that says that we take a shell and that creates the interior identity choices. We split those into attractions and perspective, with attractions being essentially what the shell wants. Some of those attractions are sexual and others are communal, like many men need to do group men things like sports of being in male crowds where they blend in with other men doing the same thing. I typically used only sexual attractions. Perspective is gender identity, which was defined as how the interior self aligns with the shell. This interior can be opposed or the same as the shell. That creats a bunch of basic labels: shell, attractions, perspective. Like a gay man isn’t trans because he’s an M shell with an M perspective and M attractions. You can see how attractions segments: some like doing group M things, and I don’t mean group sex though that can be included, and others don’t. Each label breaks apart like that. An M attracted to F with an M perspective who bakes or cross-dresses means more 1-0Segmenting. Really organizes the space to break it apart like that, to see the pairings.

That was a difficult paragraph. I kept experiencing the same issue I was analyzing: the urge to type out ideas that were going to terminate early, that wouldn’t reach across to the next because they only had so much motive power, which means they expressions of what I think of as boyish energy that just wants to do even though it will end badly. Oh, I think I just got another level of you.

Suddenly overwhelmed with very clear ideas about you. This is knocking me for a loop. Need to close my eyes. It’s 6AM.

[esttonki]

Barsoom chess

#Barsoom chess pdf#

#Barsoom chess serial#

#Barsoom chess series#

Besides sci-fi, he wrote historical and romantic fiction, westerns and jungle adventures. They fall into the hands of another set of monsters whose native sport is a game resembling chess, which is played in an arena using live creatures!Įdgar Rice Burroughs is best known for his Tarzan series, but few know that he was a multi-talented writer who penned books spanning several genres. Together with one of the Kaldanes who proves to be different from his fellows, they escape only to get into an even more hazardous situation. Prince Gahan, who is actually a heroic superman in his own kingdom, but prefers to keep it a secret, arrives in time to help her. However, when her vehicle breaks down in a lonely part of Barsoom and she is attacked by the ferocious Kaldanes, it takes all her wits to survive the encounter. Here, John Carter's daughter Tara meets Prince Gahan of the Gathol kingdom, but takes an instant dislike to the young and fashionable man, feeling that he is just a shallow youth.

#Barsoom chess serial#

The Chessmen of Mars is the fifth book in the Barsoom set, written in 1921 and published in serial form in Argosy magazine over the period of a year.

#Barsoom chess series#

Set in the “dying planet” Mars, the ten books in the series portray an Earthman, John Carter and his astral journey to the Red Planet, his marriage with a native princess and his descendants. All Rights Reserved.If you're a sci-fi fan, then you've probably heard of Edgar Rice Burroughs' famous Barsoom series of science fiction fantasy novels. And the best of the imaginative writers of any generation is Edgar Rice Burroughs.ĭavid Bruce Version Copyright © 1996-2001, Revisions © 2003-2018Ĭopyright © 1982, 1996-2003 by David Bruce Bozarth. Give me Barsoom any day of the week! Get high on your own imagination. Nowadays it seems that most fantasies involve two or more of the opposite sex, a kilo of coke in a locked room or something else artificial. I'm just a plain old Texas boy who likes a little fantasy when he can. I am not a scholar, so don't look for scholarly work. I felt it was necessary to do this research independently to avoid having their influences or observations obstructing my compilation and comments. Others have done authoritative works on Barsoom but I have not read them as of yet. When I began work on Dead Cities of Mars in 1982 I re-read the entire series and took notes. I first read the Martian series between 19. When it is I hope you will enjoy it-until then my research produced a rather handy glossary of Barsoomian facts which should interest old and new fans of Burroughs' adventure tales set on the planet Mars. Perhaps my manuscript Dead Cities of Mars will be available one day. What originally started as research to write a Barsoomian Spoof soon became an obsession to detail Edgar Rice Burroughs' wondrous Martian Saga. This website is the most up-to-date version.

#Barsoom chess pdf#

To obtain an earlier version of A Barsoom Glossary in PDF format: right click Save As to keep a copy). Illustrations by various, including the author. Quotes from the works by Edgar Rice Burroughs are either in Quotes, Italics, or Blockquote format. Links are provided to other sections when applicable, but otherwise linking is kept to a minimum, each section is complete for presentation purposes. Footnotes (where applicable) are IN LINE with the appropriate paragraph. Lists are usually presented in Alphabetical Order. Each section has internal navigation within itself, or one can return to this page to enter each section. That didn't happen however, since 1996 A BARSOOM GLOSSARY has become an internationally recognized on-line reference for the Martian works of Edgar Rice Burroughs.Ī Barsoom Glossary is presented in three major sections: People, Places, and Things. This glossary began as a writing aid for my Dead Cities of Mars pastiche I once hoped to market via print channels. Click EXTRAS to see what is NEW at A BARSOOM GLOSSARY!