#god its day 91...

[gifti3]

why is he like this lol

[dronebiscuitbat]

Oil is Thicker Then Blood (Part 91)

(TW: Sexual Abuse)

They were almost to the second pod. Thank Robo-God.

N was slightly ahead of them, doing scan after scan with each of his different eyes as they inched closer, it had fallen in what used to be a small park… but was now a frozen lake of ice.

The pod was mostly intact barring the fact it's landing legs had snapped and it was half buried in the ice of the lake and covered in snow. The door was stuck open, but there wasn't any sign of life, and especially no corpse spire that would indicate anyone lived there.

“I wonder why you guys are the only dissasembly drones we've seen…” Thad pondered aloud, and both N and V gave a small unknowing shrug.

“I'm not sure… these pods imply that there should be more don't they?” N replied, his movements slightly sluggish from not sleeping last night.

“Let's not jinx it, it's a good thing we haven't. We'd probably have to fight them.” V added, Lizzy at her side looking tired from sleeping on the ground.

“V's right. It's probably a good thing.” Uzi nodded, Tera was curled up in one arm - not asleep, but nibbling on her bat plush gently.

“We could take ‘em.” Lizzy hummed with a smirk, and V smiled. “Love the attitude, but a full squad of dissasembly drones would be a hard fight, even for me.”

“Aww, V being humble, never thought I'd see the day.” Uzi teased and V growled back in response, tail flicking in irritation.

“Shut up! I can still kick ass you little shit!” She seethed, ans Uzi couldn't help but laugh as V grumbled and growled at being teased.

Khan slid off the forklift, grabbing a metal rod and prodding the frozen lake, the ice was completely solid at it's bank, though visibly got lighter the closer you got to the pod.

He called over his son in law

“Hey! N! Need you for a sec!” She shouted from across the caravan group, and N gave Uzi a small kiss on the cheek before he took off and landed next to the older worker drone.

“I need you to check out the pod on the ice, see if it's thick enough for us to drive the lift over.” Khan pointed to the precariously placed pod, who's bottom was entrenched in the lake itself.

He nodded, that was a simple enough task.

His wings stretched out again and he softly landed on top of the pod, which didn't even budge with his added weight, he shook it, jumped on it, anything he could think off the test if it would move.

“Looks pretty good!” He shouted back, and Khan nodded. But shouted back. “Check the ice around it! Make sure it's not too thin!”

He lept from the top of the pod to in front of its entrance, scanning the thickness of the ice with the myriad of sensors that covered his body.

The ice was thick… but the pod was putting significant strain on it already, large cracks furrowed deep into it. Still the only still liquid water he could sense was under 5 feet of pure ice, and so long as they were careful…

He decided to take a look inside the pod, maybe by some miracle some of it was still functional.

No.

But N did find out what happened to the occupants almost as soon as he stepped inside.

There were three bodies, dissasembly drone bodies. And all three had the same severe warping of their chassis, and the scorched hole where their cores should be.

They had overheated, either immediately or soon after making landfall as the pilot hadn't even left their chair before she began melting to it, molten plastic clung to her coat.

They all had that same, silvery blonde hair, which made it feel more like he was looking at the bodies of his siblings then anything else. He sighed, although this was probably better for the group then finding a squad of three hungry dissasembly drones, he felt bad… overheating was such a slow way to go.

A red glint caught his eye.

He shifted his gaze downwards to the floor.

There was a pristine little JCJenson pen slowly rolling towards him, confused, he bent down and turned it in his hands, what was this doing here?

The door slammed shut behind him, plunging him in darkness for a moment while his vison switched into night mode. He backed up against the console, immediately switching to a sword as he frantically looked around.

“Well, well, well… what do we have here?”

His core stuttered still, the familiar voice of business casual and customer service experience running through his audials and making all the oil pumping through him run ice cold. Phantom pain flared in his tail.

“J?” His voice was shaky, this was impossible J was dead, he'd destroyed her core, he'd run it through with his tail until is dissolved into nothing- how? How was this possible?

Five balls of light suddenly flickered on next to the door, a long tail with a yellow, glowing tip reveling itself behind a feminine silhouette, her visor flickered on- an ‘><’ that was unblinking and unwavering.

“The one and only!” She sneered, taking a step closer to him, his eyes hollowed and he used every ounce of energy he had not to tremble.

“Y-you died.” He forced out, still not being able to believe what he was seeing, he'd watched her die.

“Effective drones are cloned more.” She smirked, dread filled the pit of his stomach, she was between him and the door, him and safety.

“You don't look too happy to see me… aren't you glad your leaders alive and well?” She asked, dripping with a kind of patronizing professionalism that she always used when talking to him, he hated it, he hated it.

He growled, fear lighting the fuse into anger.

“You should've stayed dead.” He grunted, it was venomous- so much unlike him but oh did it feel good, he stood up a little straighter.

“Ouch. That's hurtful, N.” She pouted, and N felt his fist clench as she began to move slowly towards him; his confidence wanted to fade, he felt the urge to cower, to beg for forgiveness, to falter.

He didn't. He wouldn't.

“Get out of my way.” He spat, eyes sharpening into a glare that V would be proud of, J stopped for a moment.

“Ooooh~ Such attitude~” She mocked, a fake shiver going up her spine. “Last time I checked though. I was your boss, not the other way around.” The faux freindlness in her voice fell, blessedly.

N stepped forward, closing the gap between them with a speed that startled the former leader into stepping back. His claws flexed, his visor glitched into an X.

“I said. Get out of my way, J, NOW.” The way his voice echoed around the pod was enough to make his own audials ring. J lifted an eyebrow and gave a too-wide smile.

“You don't scare me.” She laughed, one of her claws tapping on the glass covering of his core, his stance faltered breifly. “I know what makes you tick…”

“N? You alright in there? The door slammed shut.” V's voice echoed from the shut door, J looked over to it, grinning.

“Tell her everything's fine…” She whispered, and he grunted when he realized she'd grabbed his tail, She grinded her finger roughly against the canister.

He was still growling when he hit the floor, furious more then hopeless.

“N?”

“V! Mph It’s!”

She yanked on his tail harder, and he had to muffled the scream that wanted to escape.

Instead of Fear, like she wanted, there was anger that was boiling over, instead of obedience- it was rebellion.

“ITS J! SHE'S GOT MY T-AGH!!” He was swiped in the face by claws, and J angerly growled. “You little fucking-”

The door was blasted open, V was there, missile launcher aimed at the door, teeth bared and a wild look in her eye.

V wasted no time in grabbing J by the throat and tossing her out onto the ice for all to see, she looked back at N.

“Are you okay?” She asked, watching as N used the busted console to pull himself up, his tail brushed the floor and he let out a grunt of overstimulation.

“I'm fine.” He growled. “Don't worry about me.” He gestured to J, who was almost stood up on the ice again, and V nodded, throwing herself into battle with duel swords.

“I was aways a better fighter then you.” J hissed, blocking a blow with swords of her own. And V hissed back. “I don't care!”

V kicked her former leader in the midsection, making her grunt in pain but not double over, V brought out a rifle instead.

J immediately took off into the air, dodging the stream of bullets that erupted out of the tip of V's gun, a wild smile on her face.

“Aww did I upset you too? Didn't like the way you were disciplined?” She jeered, and V seemed to get more angry at that.

“Shut the fuck up!” She screeched, unleashing her wings and claws and straight up tackling the cocky drone back into the ground.

“I didn't know you were doing that to N too!” She yelled, landing a decent shot that cracked Js visor before she was able to push V off and fly back into the air

She just shrugged. “The best discipline is consistent. It just worked on you better.”

V's yell of rage was loud, but not quite as loud as N's, who came streaking from above to kick J in the head so hard she broke through the ice, splintering it in several places and making the whole lake shake in a shockwave.

“You too…?” N asked gently as he landed, and V looked away, either ashamed or embarrassed. “I don't… wanna talk about it.”

N nodded softly, keeping it as a note for later.

J Clawed herself out of the icy pit, soaking wet and visor just now completely healing.

“Insubordination! I come back to see you and this is how you repay me! I-” Her gaze twists, Thad and Lizzy are creating a barrier around Uzi and Tera, but Uzi is trying to watch, to make sure N and V are okay, and J sees her, sees her and the little toddler in her arms who looks scared.

“Oh…”

“Ooooh…”

“Now I get it. You got attached…” Her grin turns feral, and N and V both realize where she's going a second too late, she's already off, throwing Thad and Lizzy to the ground and picking up Uzi by the front of her shirt. Uzi yelps and kicks, J looks her up and down, landing on her distended stomach, running a clawed hand down it gently.

“Awww… is this N or V's?” She purred, eyes then flicking to the toddler who started screaming in fear, clinging to her mother tightly “Or both?” She snickered.

“Let me go!” Uzi spat, growling as her tail comes out in an attempt to bite, but J just grabs it, her fingers are grating and it sends an unpleasant shiver up Uzi's spine.

“Oh. I plan to.” She tosses Uzi like garbage, and Uzi quite literally throws Lizzy Tera in hopes that she'll be spared from whatever J has planed for her, Lizzy catches her, thankfully, and Thad covers them both in a body block.

N moves first, pouncing on J but getting shoved roughly back into the ice, V goes for Uzi herself, trying to get her away from danger like her instincts were screaming at her to, but she gets her head kicked and her vision goes into exclusively thermal.

Uzi tries to scramble away, spines prickling out of her back as she tries to run, fight or flight kicking in and self preservation choosing for her.

She gets picked up again, this time by the tail, J ignoring the spines peircing into her fist and holding her up upside down- right above the hole in the ice.

Panic grips her and she squirms like a caught rabbit, trying to claw at her captor or kick or… something. J sneers.

“You two clearly can't be trusted… look at this!” Uzi feels herself be shaken like she's actual trash. “This is disgraceful!”

Then… she's dropped.

The ice comes to envelop her faster then she can react, she hears not only N and V, but her father scream her name. She's plunged into sub zero waters, the temperature taking her breath away as she sinks like a stone.

N stares blankly, every thought in his head instantly evaporating into nothing. Mouth hanging open in shock.

In another second, it feels like his core snaps in half, every single light on his body turns red, and a primal scream rips from his throat as he throws himself at J with all his might

She doesn't even have time to react before one of her wings is ripped off by his claws, maw clamping down on one of her arms ad that too is detached from her body. She screams in pain.

“What the- No! Get off me! Get off me!” She struggles to get away, she kicks N's midsection as hard as she can but he doesn't even react to it, he's drooling all over her, visor stained in a crimson X as his tail whips around to peirce her visor, dumping every drop of acid into it without control.

He grabs the base of her tail and pulls, and he doesn't stop until it snaps off in his hand, a feral, euphoric laugh erupting out of his throat as tears prick in her visor. She kicks and kicks but even as his side breaks open with the force of her blows, spilling out oil he doesn't even flinch.

It's only when she fires a missile point blank at his face that she's able to get him off, throwing him backwards, headless.

She looks between the group, V, fishing her hand inside the hole she dropped Uzi, a downed N, before hoisting herself up, flying away into the distance, though off balance due to a missing wing and visor leaking golden acid she can't contain.

It was cold… so cold…

It felt like ice was invading Uzi's core, bubbles left her mouth as her heavy, titanium body sunk deeper, any attempt to go up only forced her deeper.

Until something glowing yellow grabbed her wrist and hoisted her up, she gasped for air as she was suddenly able to breathe again, everything on her sopping wet. Her optics opened a crack, V's tail was what brought her up, and now she was being held as close to her as possible, the heat radiating off her and into her frigid body.

[CORE TEMPERATURE CRITICAL!] Was written on her visor, V tried to to think about that too hard as she cradled the small worker in her arms, core beating out of her chest.

N groaned, head regenerating, and he looked around confused for a moment, processors lagging behind until it all hit him at once, he rushed over to his mate, ignoring the intense pain in his side and his splitting headache.

“S-she freezing, her bodies in shock, N what… what do we do?” V looked up at him, something desperate, apologetic.

N grabs the cold body of his mate.

“Make sure the pod gets back home safe… I got this.”

Then he's off; grabbing Tera on the way as he flies as fast as he possibly can to the warmest place he can think of…

The Nest.

Next ->

[psalmicwitch]

🔹 Psalm Magic 101 🔹

I practice with psalm magic a lot as a Christian witch, but it’s not exclusive to Christian witches. I’ve said this before on my blog, but the psalms are some of the oldest, most well documented pieces of magic we have.

The psalms, commonly attributed to King David, but there’s actually no evidence of who authored any of the psalms. We have no idea who they came from, but we know they came from much older sources. Using the book of psalms as magical test is a sort of pre-Wiccan traditional witchcraft practice.

I tend to follow Ariel Gatoga’s method of psalm magic, though there are many traditions.

Step 1: Start with a Psalm

Start with a psalm. It helps if it has a meaning that aligns with what your intentions are, but it isn’t explicitly necessary. You’ll have a harder time working the psalm, but it is definitely not impossible. I like this index of psalm meanings.

Your first read through of the psalm you’re going to treat it like an incantation. Recite with intent and with energy, whatever that means for you. Do this without stopping. (If you stop you do gotta start over)

This doesn’t have to be out loud, if you’re in the broomcloset, but read through it as if you were reciting it out loud. I like to describe this as “all but” letting the words come out of your mouth.

Step 2: Work the Psalm

Next, we move on to working the psalm. Our next read through, mentally or out loud, we’re reading and digging deeper, verse by verse, finding the occult meanings behind certain words.

What are occult or double meanings? I really like, again, Ariel Gatoga’s booklet on discerning the double meanings of certain words.

He describes finding these words as seeds which we plant and grow into magic. The description that resonates with me is knitting these words together to grow into a functional spell.

There’s no inherent magic in reciting a psalm. The magic comes from working and weaving its pieces together with intention to work towards your goal.

Sometimes, if I have the energy, I’ll do a second working of the same psalm. Don’t do more than one psalm a day. One thing about psalm magic is that it can be exhausting. I remember the first time I really had success with a working it completely drained me and I passed out immediately after. Even if you don’t get physically tired, it is mentally taxing, so don’t overdo it. (Remember to always raise energy before and ground after.)

Ending and Circuits

I personally end with incanting the psalm once more, putting special emphasis on those occult or double-meaninged words. I made this up. It helps me feel like I’ve gone full circle, but truly, we were finished after we worked the psalm. This second incantation is really just putting frosting on the outside of the psalm cake.

Circuits are an integral part of psalm magic, unlike my little frosting on the cake. When you work a psalm, it’ll work, but to add more energy to what you preformed, you’re going to want to recite similar psalms the next few days. My favorite circuit is definitely 9, 90, and 91 for healing illness.

To work a circuit, pick the 3-6 psalms you want to work, and work them, one a day, 3-6 days straight, depending on how many psalms you picked. After, take a few days rest and evaluate how you feel about what you did. I search deep for my gut to tell me where I stand in the problem. If you feel good, great! If you don’t, do the circuit again.

I like psalms because psalmic magic does not rely on anything else. You can create a ritual around it (I do!) but nothing else is required. You can be the most inconspicuous witch ever. You only need a Bible or a book of psalms.

A final note, if you feel detached from the language found in the book of psalms, especially if you’re not a devotee of an Abrahamic god, it’s important to reframe it. In this text, you are god. (Heresy alert lol). Remember, these texts predate what they’re used for in the Bible. Change your frame of reference, and realize you are the god of the texts. (Or if you do resonate with the way they are written, don’t bother.) It’s about how to make the text work with you. There is no power in the exact language with which the psalms are written.

Once you learn the process, psalm magic starts to feel like second nature.

If you ever don’t want to write your own spell, if you want to recite some old magic, or even if you are worried about getting caught, psalm magic has something for everyone. I really do implore you to give it a shot.

Lastly, if this has been helpful or insightful to you, please consider donating to the ALS Association.

I’m on a mission to end ALS. If you can’t donate, reblog my pinned post, or hey, send a psalm up for healing those with ALS, or knowledge for those working for the cure.

[holyspiritgirl]

Studying biblical verses to read when struggling with spiritual warfare p.2 : Psalm 91

(NLT) Psa 91 - “Those who live in the shelter of the Most High will find rest in the shadow of the Almighty. This I declare about the LORD: He alone is my refuge, my place of safety; he is my God, and I trust him. For he will rescue you from every trap and protect you from deadly disease. He will cover you with his feathers. He will shelter you with his wings. His faithful promises are your armor and protection. Do not be afraid of the terrors of the night, nor the arrow that flies in the day. Do not dread the disease that stalks in darkness, nor the disaster that strikes at midday. Though a thousand fall at your side, though ten thousand are dying around you, these evils will not touch you. Just open your eyes, and see how the wicked are punished. If you make the LORD your refuge, if you make the Most High your shelter, no evil will conquer you; no plague will come near your home. For he will order his angels to protect you wherever you go. They will hold you up with their hands so you won’t even hurt your foot on a stone. You will trample upon lions and cobras; you will crush fierce lions and serpents under your feet! The LORD says, “I will rescue those who love me. I will protect those who trust in my name. When they call on me, I will answer; I will be with them in trouble. I will rescue and honor them. I will reward them with a long life and give them my salvation.”

Psalm 91 is a powerful and comforting passage that speaks of God's protection and deliverance . Here’s a summary and explanation of its key themes:

• Promise of safety (verses 1-2) :

It is said that those who maintain a close, trusting relationship with God will find safety and rest under His protection. Our Lord is portrayed as a refuge and a shelter, providing security and comfort to those who are close to Him.

• Protection from dangers (verses 3-8) :

It is true that God promises to rescue from hidden dangers and deadly diseases. His protection is depicted as covering with feathers and sheltering under wings, symbolizing tender care and safety. In other words, it is said that the faithful are shielded from harm and deceit.

• Freedom from fear (verses 9-13) :

In fact, those who trust in God will not be overcome by evil or disease. Angels are assigned to guard and protect, reinforcing the idea of divine oversight. Therefore it is assured that harm will not reach those who make God their refuge.

• God’s response to faithfulness (verses 14-16) :

Certainly, God will deliver and honor those who love and trust Him. God will answer prayers, be present in trouble, and grant long life and salvation ; a divine reward for steadfast faith and trust.

• In summary, Psalm 91 promises that those who trust in the Lord will find safety and protection from dangers and fears. God will deliver them from harm, shield them with care, and honor their faithfulness with long life and salvation.

Have a Blessed day 🙏

[talonabraxas]

"We must carry out exercises in thought and exercises in will if the portals of the supersensible world are to open for us. It is this world that we must enter if we want to know the eternal aspect of ourselves and of the universe." - Rudolf Steiner

Quetzalcoatl - Aztec Sun Portal Talon Abraxas

If You Are Lucky You Will See The Snake On The Equinox

Twice a year, at each equinox, the sun plays with the angles of the northeast stairway of the Kukulcán pyramid at Chichen Itza (called El Castillo in Spanish).

The north stairway of the Kukulcán pyramid is the main sacred path that, on its northeast balustrade at the vernal (March) and autumnal (September) equinoxes, the stepped terraces of the pyramid cast triangular shadows. As the sun moves west, the angular shadows give the visual impression of an undulating serpent body crawling slowly down the stairway, and the massive serpent head with mouth agape, at the bottom. The event draws thousands of tourists that gather on the grand plaza to witness the event.

The Kukulcán temple-pyramid is not cardinally oriented; it is believed to mythologically sits at the center of time and space. Its corners lined up on a northeast-southwest axis toward the rising and setting sun at the summer and winter equinoxes, making the pyramid a monumental sundial for the solar year. The four stairways ascending the pyramid, one on each side have 91 steps each, equal 364 steps that, with the temple at the top, total the 365 days, or a solar year.

Kukulcán is the Maya Yucatec name for Quetzalcoatl, god of the Fifth Sun that came with the Toltecs from the central plateau of Mexico and the Itza conquerors. The Toltecs joined Maya Chontal groups from the northwest of the Yucatán peninsula and conquered Chichen Itza,“the city of the water sorcerers,” early in the 10th century.

The vast plaza that surrounds the Castillo on four sides represents the Primordial Sea of Creation, from where is believed all life sprung at the beginning of time. The plaza north side was the area of significant ritual ceremonies, bordered by the Venus Platform, with the Eagle warriors and the Tzompantli or skull rack, behind to it. Beyond is the massive Temple of the Warriors on the east side, and the Ballcourt, to the west.

Chichen Itza’s Spiritual Gateways

Two other portals, or spiritual gateways, are linked to the temple-pyramid, one natural, the other manmade. The first is the enormous sacred cenote, or sinkhole referred to as the “Great Well of the Itzas.” It is reached by a largely elevated such, Maya for white road, heading northward from the Great Plaza and the Venus Platform. The cenote was believed to be the place of communication with the gods of Xibalba, the “Place of Awe” the underworld; it was also Cha’ak dwelling, the powerful Maya god of rain, lightning, and thunder.

The structure built on the lip of the cenote was used to prepare sacrificial victims to the gods. Gifts to the gods were precious jade and metals, very fine ceramics and lives. The archaeological record shows that human sacrifices were of both genders of any age. In a time of dire needs such as persistent drought, a community would sacrifice its best, not the sickly or the maimed; sacrificial victims had to be able and in their prime.

The Great Ballcourt, Second Spiritual Gateway

The second portal, the man-made spiritual gateway, is the Great Ballcourt on the west side of the Great Plaza together with the Temple of the Jaguars and is the largest ballcourt in the Americas. For the ancient Mayas, the ballcourts opened literally into Otherworlds. Ball playing as a ritual was a fateful game destined to end in sacrifice. The metaphor that took place in the ballcourt reflected the tribulations of life, death, evil and disease that defined human destiny and history.

There is much more to be said about Chichen Itza and, of course, still far more to be learned we do not know, such as the serpent shadow on the temple-pyramid? Excavations in the Great Plaza started in 2009, revealed buried structures that pre-date Kukulcán. What will we learn from this hidden past before the great temple-pyramid was built, is still to be discovered.

[hauntingkiki]

OKAY SO idea with sloan! Sloan has a crush on another co-worker, and is telling reader alllll about it, gushing over her, giggling about her, etc., all while reader has a crush on Sloan secretly

:( baby doesnt know theyre so loved by reader

Ending can be fluff though, where it turns into Sloan pining for reader instead!

oh. my. GOD I LOVE THIS SO MUCH!!

people who request sloan/venture things HAVE MY HEARTTT ILYYYY

Let Me Be the One for You

Sloan x Reader

OverWatch

2nd POV

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

today was day 91. simply; three months.

three long and exhausting months.

you, y/n I/n, have had a huge crush on your coworker for three months.

your crush, sloan camron, has been oblivious about your feelings for three months.

as of now, the two of you are sitting together, eating lunch and talking about whatever comes to mind.

"oh! and then aurora found me some quartz, since she knew i've been looking for them for YEARS." sloan beamed, pulling out a small handful of raw quartz from their pocket. the crystals were a plethora of colors; hazy grays, pinks, and clears were scattered in sloan's palm.

you nodded in agreement, gently picking up one of the stones that laid in their hold. "yeah, these are really pretty." you cooed, moving the rock around in your fingers, the gem glistening in the sun that was starting to set. "she has a great taste in rocks." you punned, making sloan snicker. you gently gave the rose quartz back to its owner, sloan taking a final look at them.

they shoved the rocks back into their pocket, grabbing their fork to eat their lunch again, which was hand made tamales made by their grandma. "but anyway, none of the boys want to go into the deeper part of the cave; i was wondering if you wanted to tag along!"

you glanced up from your food, which consisted of f/f and half a tamale from sloan. nodding, you started to eat the treat from your friend, a faint smile on your lips. "sure, i'd love to!" you gushed, a hand ghosting over your mouth since you accidentally started to talk with your mouth food, a habit you were taught not to do. swallowing, you finished up your lunch before packing up.

sloan grinned, their cheeks a faint pink as they took your trash into their hands once they were done with their food. they stood up once they got all of the garbage, turning in their heels as they spoke. "great! we'll go in an hour, yeah?" sloan quirked a brow, looking over their shoulder.

you nodded, humming in agreement. "works for me!"

sloan smiled softly and gave you a wave, walking with their chest puffed out toward a nearby garbage bag then to their tent when they discarded the trash.

you smiled stayed on your lips until they were out of sight, a frown twisting on your face as your head fell into your hands with a groan.

you've done everything you could think of in order for them to notice your feeling for them.

you told them that they looked great in a suit, that their eyes stood out with the colors they picked for the fancy dinner.

you fluttered your eyelashes a little extra every time you saw them, a little more when you talked to them.

you described them to a tea as your 'dream partner', but all they said was 'you'll find them! don't worry!'

you gently pulled at your hair as more memories popped into your mind, the hint getting bigger and bigger as they went on. 'jesus, how dense are they?' you thought, your eyes peeking through your the gaps between your fingers.

"still nothing?" one of your friends, samantha, questioned, sitting next to you on the rock.

"no." you huffed, pulling your hands away from your face. your eyes stayed on the mud in front of you, footprints scattered around the soft ground. "i feel like whitney houston wrote that song for me...the 'how will i know' one..."

samantha threw her head back as she hollered a laugh, clutching her sides. "it sure seems like it!" she giggled, wiping the tears from her eyes. "or maybe you're living in her song."

you shrugged with a snort. "feels like it." sighing, you pushed yourself off of the rock, stretching and cracking your joints. "well, i got a 'date' in an hour, so i got to get my gear on for that."

samantha's face softened at the statement, cocking her head to the right faintly. "y/n, really?" she gasped, standing up and stepping in front of you. she shook her head, her afro slightly bouncing with her movements. "girl, you're just hurting yourself by doing this. you need to tell sloan how you feel." she placed both hands on your shoulders, gently rocking you back and forth with knitted brows.

you ran a hand down your face, dirt getting smeared against your skin. "it's not that easy, sam." you protested, looking at her gear before meeting her eyes. "i work with them, we're in the same group. if i was in your group, then i totally would."

she tilted her head side to side, flexing her fingers as her palms stayed on your shoulder blades. "i get that. but it's been three months-well, technically longer- but you need to tell them." she jerked her head towards the area sloan's group was camping out. "if you don't do it soon, i will."

you slouched forward, your head tilted back as you whined, your hands gripping at your hair.

a nearby coworker walked past, stopping when samantha and you caught his attention. "sloan?" your coworker, axel, laughed, gear in hand as he made his way over to you two.

sam nodded, letting go of you as you fell back onto the rock. she crossed her arms, turning towards the taller, muscular man. "yep. won't seem to get the hint with this one." she teased, pointing at you with a thumb. "she's got a 'date' with them in an hour."

axel quirked a brow at that, his eyes slightly wide. "date?" he repeated, dropping the gear in his hands and turning towards your shriveled up position.

"YES!" you screamed, your hands flailed around in exasperation, startling the people around you. groaning, hurled back over, you wept into your hands. "we're going exploring deeper into the cave together." you pointed over in the general direction of the cave the two of you were going to go into.

"just..." axel started, eyeing you with an idea forming in his mind. "the two of you?"

you nodded, lifting your head up to see him softly smirking down at you.

"and you're going into the deep part of the cave, yeah?" he asked again, rubbing his hands together which made you gulp with a head nod. "the part where you need a pulley and gear for?"

you agreed hesitantly, sitting up fully. "yesss?" you dragged on, standing up after a moment. "why-why does it matter?"

samantha seemed to catch on, 'ooo'ing at axel with a smug expression that twisted her face.

"let's just say i can help you out." axel grinned, grabbing the gear off of the rocky ground.

•••

venture arrived at the deeper cave entrance. five minutes early per usual, but instead of being alone, there were two guys waiting at the entrance.

those two guys knew sloan's secret.

"kayden? zane?" sloan gasped, adjusting their gear as they made their way over to the two. "what are you guys doing here?" sloan started to sweat, their hands shook as they gripped the buckles that held straps of gear in place.

"we're your pulley guys." zane shrugged, cocking his head toward the steep decline into the earths crust. "ya know, for y/n and you."

sloan nodded. "o-oh." they gasped faintly, getting the straps to their liking, getting go of the cold metal that soothed their hot palms.

kayden sighed after a moment of long, painful silence. "sloan, can we be honest with you?" he asked, crossing his arms and shifting his weight to his right foot.

sloan nodded, swaying on the balls of their feet. "yeah-yeah, what's up?" they tilted their head to the side, swallowing hard.

"you're totally fumbling." zane piped in, also crossing his arms.

"yeah, she's been playing her cards right for MONTHS." kayden added on, pointing at the campsite.

sloan stumbled back, appalled at their outbursts. "what are you talking about?" they asked.

"Y/N!" they both groaned, trying to get it through their thick skull.

“fumbling? y/n?” they repeated, titling their head to the side like a lost puppy. “what are you two talking about?”

“sloan, she LIKES you.” zane huffed, rubbing his temples in annoyance. he loved sloan, but sometimes it was hard to get them to understand.

sloan shook their head, tapping their canteen with their fingertips. “no, no she doesn’t.” sloan shot the idea down. “she likes someone else.”

the two started at sloan in disbelief, their mouths slightly ajar as they glanced at each other then back to sloan.

sloan blinked a few times, a brow raising awkwardly as the two guys started at them in disbelief.

“you’re joking…” zane muttered, snapping out of his state.

sloan slowly and unsurely shook their head before becoming confident. “i’m…i’m not joking.” they chuckled awkwardly, rubbing a hand through their hair. “she described someone else-“

“yeah- YOU.” kayden laughed, throwing his hands on their shoulders. “who else has a chipped tooth with dimples? and flame tattoos on their neck?!”

zane nodded, walking over to kayden and placing a hand on the man’s shoulder. “and do you think a girl would compliment their…their-uh…” zane gulped, an unsure face expression pinged on their face.

“guy?” sloan quirked a brow with a monochrome expression.

“yes! no girl would compliment their guy friend who’s wearing a tuxedo to a company dinner.” zane snapped his fingers, his eyes vast as he spoke.

suddenly, it clicked in sloan’s head.

all of your interactions suddenly made sense to them in that moment.

“holy shit.” sloan gasped, their eyes darting to the floor, their cheeks turning into a deep wine red.

“i’m not late, am i?” you called out, jogging over to the three with a sweat drop. your attention flashed over to kayden as he flashed you a look, making you gulp with a slight nod. “sloan, you ready?” you walked over to them, smiling brightly.

sloan slowly nodded, making eye contact with you as they reached out for the hook that was tied at the end of the rope. “y-yeah..” they whispered, clipping the hook into their gear.

you followed in suit, the two of you slowly slipping into the jagged hole, your faces inches apart due to how small the hole was.

as the two of you went deeper into the ground, the darker it got, but small glows of color illuminated the tight squeeze, causing the two of you to stop and admire the beauty, and the occasional pick of rocks, gems and other goodies which went into your pockets for further research.

“wow…” you breathed out, looking around as small amounts of color highlighted your skin in all the right places, making sloan’s heart rate race. “it’s beautiful in here.”

they hummed in agreement, swallowing before clearing their throat, catching your attention. “do you…like me?” they whispered without reason, the two boys at the surface weren’t able to hear anything sloan and you were saying due to how far you both are, but they still couldn’t risk it.

your face flushed into a bright red, a coughing fit started which made sloan panic. “w-what?” you gasped once you calmed down from your attack, your eyes darting between theirs.

“do you like me?” they repeated louder this time, glancing away in shame.

the two of you fell silent, both of your hearts racing at the question that was brought up out of nowhere.

had they finally caught on?

did all the pieces of the puzzle click in their head?

or where they far fetching with said question and seeing if you’d bite, then when you’d answer they’d laugh in your face and tell EVERYONE once you two were back on the surface and they’d embarrassed you so badly that you’d have to quit your job, change your identity, move to a new country, and you’d have to find a new job and-

“i’m not mad!” sloan reassured almost instantly when the thoughts in your head started to get anxious. a hand made it’s way to their neck, their eyes lock with your vast, glassy ones. “i just…i just really, really want to know.”

you gulped, sweat building up above your brow and another places you don’t want to be thinking about as you felt the liquid make your joint slick. you clamped your eyes shut, faintly tilting your head down before nodding. “i do..” you mustered out, your voice cracking. you made eye contact with them, your eyes glassier than before. “i have for the longest time! i’ve tried EVERYTHING for you to notice, i-i tried complementing you, i tried acting a little more ‘extra’ around you. you name it, i’ve probably done it.” you let out a weak chuckle, your face and body unbearably hot as waves of heat rolled over you.

sloan’s body also started to become unbearably hot, their eyes the size of plates at your confession.

“and don’t get me started on why i like you.” you waved both hands around awkwardly in the small space, rolling your eyes as you snickered. “like-like how your eyes light up when you talk about your interests, or when you’re outside, when the sun hits your eyes just right which reveals small golden flakes around your pupil. or when you think about something, your left dimple peeks out for no reason, you don’t even do anything but it’s there for some reason. a-and when your holding back a laugh, your lips curl slightly and you can see your chipped tooth-“

“i like you.” sloan interrupted, face completely flushed from your ramble.

you froze, your face slowly turning red as you let the words settle. “n-no you don’t.” you shook your head. “you like…you like aurora- you never stop talking about her.”

sloan shook their head in disagreement, making you softly gasp. “i-i don’t…” they admitted, their fingers fidgeting at a strip of leather. “she’s was a stupid cover up crush cause i thought you didn’t like me, and i was trying to cover up my feelings so i wouldn’t get hurt in the long run.”

silence took over the two of you again, the sound of cloth shifting echoed in the small confinement.

sloan inched their hands towards your face. their dirty, calloused hands cupped your red, hot cheeks, their right thumb gently rubbed against your cheek bone. their eyes glanced between your eyes and down towards your lips before repeating the cycle about five more times. sloan started to lean into your face, their eyes slowly fluttering shut.

you gulped harshly, also leaning towards them as your eyes clamped shut. your hands found their way onto their chest, your left hand sliding up their chest and snaking up into their dark curls, your right hand staying over their heart as you felt it pound against their ribcage.

the two of you eventually met in the middle, your lips crashing gently against one another’s. sloan’s lips were, surprisingly, slightly chapped, as if chapstick was applied an hour or so ago before coming down into the cave, as if they knew this was going it happen (they didn’t btw). their lips were slightly plump and full as they moved in sync with yours, but you assumed it was good genes from their parents- which you were correct cause when seeing pictures, their mom had lovely lips.

butterflies fluttered in your stomach as you pulled them closer into you, both of your heads slightly turning to the right as you both deepened the kiss faintly, like you both have been craving this for years.

pulling away, the two of you stayed inches away from each other, your lips ghosting over one another.

“that was amazing.” sloan suddenly whispered, their lips faintly brushing against yours as they spoke certain letters.

you smiled, giggling softly as you leaned into their left hand. “kiss me again.” you muttered, making eye contact with them.

their eyes sparkled as they pulled you into another kiss, both of you smiling into it.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

I HOPE YOU ENJOYED!! THIS WAS SOOO MUCH FUN TO WRITE I HAD TO MAKE SURE IT WAS PERFECT!!

sorry there wasn’t a lot of gushy, sloan yapping about their crush to reader! i completely spaced it!😓

[jslmasaysmoneyisbest]

Favorite Ideas to create

My favorite ideas to like imagine up

is one that makes no sense

Like Bruce Wayne as Cale Henituse

or crossovers that are so big and confusing it hurts

One of my favorite I came up with is

Damian as an apollo child

mostly b/c i see him as a Child who loves art

but he has mastered all musical things

because of how bored he was

Like Apollo is a god

he could most defintely sneak some of his DNA into Damian as he was made

he could also replace someones DNA

but why would he?

Bruce and Talia are hot XD

He would probably flirt with them if they didn't scare him

So

Damian arrives at wayne house at age 10

He is in the League of Assassins till age 6

and the years before that NO ONE KNOWS

he went to demi-god camp

and then at age 9 a month before he turned 10 returned b/c

Apollo just went through his trials and Will was in tarturus

he rather all the children he has who could be sent home would

and Apollo knew about Talia plan to send him to the waynes

so he felt good sending Damian to Talia

who then sent him to the waynes

So Damian has like 34 identities

Damian Al Ghul

Damian Wayne

Robin

and

Damian the son of apollo

(his favorite brother is in fact Nico-with a doctors note! without it its Will who's mother has 100% adopted him

so Damian Solace- is the fourth identity

mostly b/c I don't know much about Will's mother but if she's anything like Will and if she liked Apollo

most definetely would adopt Damian

idk it feels right

they also never told the demi-gods were Damian is

so yeah-they get messages from Apollo he is alright

and Damian has been busy the summers he could return

until like one day

Will and Nico still haven't fully been back to 95%(91 for Nico he went twice)health sense tarturus(not 100 they could never return to 100)

So Apollo decided FAMILY ROAD TRIP!!!!

and they whole Wayne family all panics b/c who is this man calling Damian son why is Damian agreeing

and WHERE IS HE GOING?!

and thats it all I have

[antiochianorthodoxcumberlandmd]

Daily Scripture Readings and Lives of the Saints for Sunday, June 22, 2025

Fast Day (Fish Allowed)

Feasts and Saints celebrated today:

2nd Sunday of Matthew

Eusebius, Bishop of Samosata

Zenon the Martyr & his servant Zenas of Philadelphia

Anastasia the Serbian

Alban the Protomartyr of Britain

Readings for today:

Mark 16:1-8

St. Paul's Letter to the Romans 2:10-16

Matthew 4:18-23

2nd Sunday of Matthew

The content on this page is under copyright and is used by permission. All rights reserved. These works may not be further reproduced, in print or on other websites or in any other form, without the prior written authorization of the copyright holder:

Eusebius, Bishop of Samosata

Reading from the Synaxarion:

After the expulsion of Eudoxius from the see of Antioch, the Arians of Antioch, believing that Meletius of Armenia would uphold their doctrines, petitioned the Emperor Constantius to appoint Meletius Bishop of Antioch, while signing a document jointly with the Orthodox of Antioch, unanimously agreeing to Meletius' appointment (see Feb. 12); this document was entrusted to Eusebius, Bishop of Samosata. Meletius, however, after his Orthodoxy became apparent, was banished, and the Arians persuaded Constantius to demand the document back from Eusebius, as it convicted their perfidy. Imperial officers were sent; Eusebius refused to surrender the document without the consent of all who had signed it; the officers returned to the Emperor, who furiously sent them back to Eusebius with threats. But so great a zealot for the true Faith, so staunch an enemy of the Arians, so fearless a man of valor was Saint Eusebius, that when Constantius' officers arrived, threatening to cut off his right h and unless he surrendered the document, Eusebius held out both hands. When Constantius learned of it, he was struck with astonishment and admiration.

This took place in 361, the last year of the reign of Constantius; he was succeeded by Julian the Apostate, who was slain in Persia in 363; Jovian succeeded Julian, and Valentinian succeeded Jovian in 364, making his brother Valens Emperor of the East. Valens, who supported the Arians, exiled Eusebius to Thrace in 374. The bearer of the edict of Eusebius' banishment arrived in the evening; Eusebius bade him keep silence, or else the people, learning why he had come, would drown him: and Eusebius, though an old man, left his house alone on foot by night. After Valens was slain at Adrianopole in 378 (see Saint Isaacius, Aug. 3), the holy Eusebius returned from exile under the Emperor Gratian, and he ordained for the churches of Syria men known for their virtue and Orthodoxy. About the year 380, as he was entering a certain village to enthrone its bishop, whom he had consecrated, an Arian woman threw a clay tile from the roof, and it crushed his head; as he was dying, he bound the by standers with oaths that they not take the least vengeance. Saint Gregory the Theologian addressed several letters to him (PG 37:87, 91, 126-130); he had such reverence for him, that in one letter to him, commending himself to Saint Eusebius' prayers, he said, "That such a man should deign to be my patron also in his prayers will gain for me, I am persuaded, as much strength as I should have gained through one of the holy martyrs.

Apolytikion of Hieromartyr Eusebius in the Fourth Tone

As a sharer of the ways and a successor to the throne of the Apostles, O inspired of God, thou foundest discipline to be a means of ascent to divine vision. Wherefore, having rightly divided the word of truth, thou didst also contest for the Faith even unto blood, O Hieromartyr Eusebius. Intercede with Christ our God that our souls be saved.

The content on this page is under copyright and is used by permission. All rights reserved. These works may not be further reproduced, in print or on other websites or in any other form, without the prior written authorization of the copyright holder:

Reading (c) Holy Transfiguration Monastery - Brookline, MA

Apolytikion of Hieromartyr Eusebius (c) Holy Transfiguration Monastery, Brookline, MA

Prayer Before Reading Scripture

Shine within our hearts, loving Master, the pure light of Your divine knowledge and open the eyes of our minds that we may comprehend the message of Your Gospel. Instill in us also reverence for Your blessed commandments, so that having conquered all sinful desires, we may pursue a spiritual life, thinking and doing all those things that are pleasing to You. For You, Christ our God, are the light of our souls and bodies, and to You we give glory together with Your Father who is without beginning and Your all holy, good, and life giving Spirit, now and forever and to the ages of ages. Amen.

Orthros Gospel Reading

The Reading is from Mark 16:1-8

When the Sabbath was past, Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother of James and Salome, bought spices, so that they might go and anoint Jesus. And very early on the first day of the week they went to the tomb when the sun had risen. And they were saying to one another, "Who will roll away the stone for us from the door of the tomb?" And looking up, they saw that the stone was rolled back - it was very large. And entering the tomb, they saw a young man sitting on the right side, dressed in a white robe; and they were amazed. And he said to them, "Do not be amazed; you seek Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He has risen, He is not here; see the place where they laid Him. But go, tell His disciples and Peter that He is going before you to Galilee; there you will see Him, as He told you." And they went out and fled from the tomb, for trembling and astonishment had come upon them; and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.

Epistle Reading

The Reading is from St. Paul's Letter to the Romans 2:10-16

Brethren, glory and honor and peace for every one who does good, the Jew first and also the Greek. For God shows no partiality. All who have sinned without the law will also perish without the law, and all who have sinned under the law will be judged by the law. For it is not the hearers of the law who are righteous before God, but the doers of the law who will be justified. When Gentiles who have not the law do by nature what the law requires, they are a law to themselves, even though they do not have the law. They show that what the law requires is written on their hearts, while their conscience also bears witness and their conflicting thoughts accuse or perhaps excuse them on that day when, according to my gospel, God judges the secrets of men by Christ Jesus.

Gospel Reading

The Reading is from the Gospel According to Matthew 4:18-23

At that time, as Jesus walked by the Sea of Galilee, he saw two brothers, Simon who is called Peter and Andrew his brother, casting a net into the sea; for they were fishermen. And he said to them, "Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men." Immediately they left their nets and followed him. And going on from there he saw two other brothers, James the son of Zebedee and John his brother, in the boat with Zebedee their father, mending their nets, and he called them. Immediately they left their boat and their father, and followed him. And he went about all Galilee, teaching in their synagogues and preaching the gospel of the kingdom and healing every disease and every infirmity among the people.

[dustedmagazine]

A good year for music if nothing else: Jennifer Kelly’s 2024 review

Ben Chasny came to VT in 2024, go figure.

Things have been feeling very end of the world for a few years now, and 2024 (especially from November on) only intensified my sense of doom. It’ll get worse, too, in 2025. The vilest, stupidest people on earth are in change, and oh boy, do they have a lot of ideas, all of them bad.

But you lived through last year, too, and if you’re lucky, you’ll get to experience whatever hell 2025 brings. It’s scary shit, but also deeply tedious, so let’s talk about music instead.

Because music came through in a big way this year. There was so much of it, and so much that was great.

Live music, for instance, continued to flourish, even in very small markets like Western Massachusetts and southern Vermont and New Hampshire. Bang, right off the bat, we caught Makaya McCraven in February holding court at Brattleboro’s Vermont Jazz Center. With Junius Paul, Brandee Younger and Marquis Hill, he hit the highlights from 2022’s In these Times, mixing up trad jazz, improvisation and hip hop in an intricate mesh, and it was wonderful.

Makaya McCraven and friends

Now let’s jump ahead to May and the always remarkable Thing in the Spring, where Myriam Gendron (with Jim White and Marisa Anderson), Mark Ribot, Earth and many others visited Keene, NH. Wadada Leo Smith played an astonishing set with Shazad Ismaily…even more astonishing, he had to yell at the crowd for quiet.

I even had the chance to see a couple of bands that rarely play live. In August, my friend Chris Liberato booked the super-ish group Winged Wheel to play at a nondescript bar near Springfield Mass. It was revelatory, worth getting lost trying to find 91 in the middle of the night afterwards.

Winged Wheel

Then in November, right around the time, things started getting dark, I hit the lottery. First Haley Fohr and Bill Nace raised the spirits in Keene, a day later the NYC post-punk legends Love Child with Lupo Citta in Easthampton, and a couple of days after that, Ben Chasney and Tashi Dorji in Brattleboro in front of the towering pipe organ at Epsilon Spires.

Love Child

Tashi Dorji

Recorded music came in an avalanche in 2024, just so many good records, month after month after month. I narrowed my favorites down to a list of 42, harder than you’d think, and there are plenty of discs I enjoyed plenty that didn’t make the cut.

Top Ten

Rosali—Bite Down (Merge) My favorite all year long for Rosali’s lovely voice, the instant classic-ness of the songs and the kicking band in Mowed Sound.

Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds—Wild God (PIAS) What I’d really like is another Grinderman, but this lush, string-heavy iteration of the Cave art form is very fine in its own way, not least because it leans on the Bad Seeds more heavily than the last couple. Time for joy indeed.

The Cure—Songs for a Lost World (Polydor) It is not easy to crack my top five in November, but Robert Smith did it with the bleak, soul-stirring grandeur of this late-life epic. It doesn’t hurt that he still sounds exactly like he did in my misspent youth.

Oneida—Expensive Air (Joyful Noise) Oneida has been my favorite working band for decades, and this one follows the song-structured Success with more bangers but also more weirdness. Thalia Zedek sings on two tracks with her signature ragged power.

Miriam Gendron—Mayday (Thrill Jockey) These are just surpassingly beautiful songs about love and death, gorgeously played and sung.  Gendron continues to get more comfortable with her art, taking a few more well-worth-it steps from her folk music origins.

PYPY—Sacred Times (Goner) Unhinged post-punk from one of the best in Montreal’s thriving scene. “Lonely Striped Sock” crosses ESG with Delta Five and contains the craziest keyboard lick I’ve heard this year.

MJ Lenderman—Manning Fireworks (ANTI-) One of 2024’s consensus favorites, and for all that, more idiosyncratic and complicated than you’d expect. Genuinely intriguing writing coupled with an incendiary rock roar.

Cassandra Jenkins—My Light My Destroyer (Dead Oceans) A bigger, denser, more accomplished sound for Jenkins than on her magical debut, but no less quirkily intelligent for its beauty.

Mdou Moctar—Funeral for Justice (Matador) Mdou Moctar is maybe the best guitarist in rock music right now, and here’s the kicker, he’s not really in rock music. Searing, wrenching, politically charged Afro-rock from the master.

Another Dancer—I Try to Be Another Dancer (Bruit Direct Disques) This charmingly odd Brussels ensemble skips from detuned Lewsberg-style minimalism to glowing Stereolab raves. Unexpected and intoxicating.

The rest

Winged Wheel—Big Hotel (12XU)

Uranium Club—Infants Under the Bulb (Static Shock)

E—Living Waters (Silver Rocket)

Luppo Citta—S-T (12XU)

Six Organs—Time Is Glass (Drag City)

Des Demonas—Apocalyptic Boom Boom (In the Red)

Guided by Voices—Strut of Kings (GBV Inc.)

Weak Signal—Fine (12XU)

Bonnie “Prince” Billy—Hear the Children/The Evidence (No Quarter)

Yasmin Williams—Acadia (Nonesuch)

Bill Mackay—Locust Land (Drag City)

Hard Quartet—S-T (matador)

The Bug Club—On the Intricate Inner Workings of the System (Sub Pop)

Black Pus—Terrestrial Seethings (Thrill Jockey)

Dummy—Free Energy (Trouble in Mind)

Horse Jumper of Love—Disaster Trick (Run for Cover)

Itasca—Imitation of War (Paradise of Bachelors)

West of Roan—Queen of Eyes (Spinster)

James Elkington & Nathan Salsburg—All Gist (Paradise of Bachelors)

Workers Comp—S-T (Ever/Never)

Jessica Pratt—Here in the Pitch (Mexican Summer)

Aluminum—Fully Beat (felte)

Mary Timony—Untame the Tiger (Merge)

Mount Eerie—Night Palace (P.W. Elverum & Sun)

Penny Arcade—Backwater Collage (Tapete)

Rail Band—S-T (Mississippi)

The Softies—The Bed I Made (Father/Daughter)

Thine Retail Simps—Strike Gold Strike Back Strike Out (Total Punk)

Unknowns—East Coast Low (Drunken Sailor)

Ava Mendoza—Circular Train (Palilia)

Ned Collette—Our Other History (ever/never)

Amelia Courthouse—broken things (Spinster)

The Osees—Sorc 80 (Castle Face)

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Philadelphia Tribune

* * * *

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

September 29, 2024

Heather Cox Richardson

Sep 30, 2024

Late Friday night, Tennessee House Republican Caucus chair Jeremy Faison posted “President Biden has finally approved [Tennessee governor Bill Lee’s] state of emergency request,” making it sound as if the delay in federal support for the state during the devastation of Hurricane Helene was Biden’s fault. In fact, while Alabama, Florida, Georgia, North Carolina, and South Carolina all declared emergencies and requested and received federal approval of those declarations before the hurricane hit, Governor Lee did not. 

Instead, in keeping with an April joint resolution from the Republican-dominated Tennessee legislature calling for 31 days of prayer and fasting to “seek God’s hand of mercy healing on Tennessee,” Lee proclaimed September 27 “a voluntary Day of Prayer & Fasting.”

Lee did not declare a state of emergency until late on September 27, after flash flooding had already created havoc. President Biden approved it immediately.  

The extraordinary damage from Helene in Florida, Georgia, North Carolina, South Carolina, Tennessee, and Virginia continues to mount. At least 91 people have died, and search and rescue teams are at work across several states. More than 2 million people are without power, and western North Carolina is isolated after its roads washed out. A fire at a chemical facility in Conyers, Georgia, outside Atlanta forced the evacuation of 17,000 people nearby. The National Weather Service office in Greenville-Spartanburg, South Carolina, wrote to the residents of the western Carolinas and northeast Georgia: “This is the worst event in our office’s history.”  

Faison’s implication that Democratic president Biden, rather than Republican governor Lee, was to blame for the slow federal response to Helene in Tennessee illustrated the Republicans’ attempt to create a fake world to motivate their base with fear and anger while leaving Democrats to come up with real world solutions. And since those solutions are popular, Republicans are claiming credit for them. 

In the past two days, Republican lawmakers who just days ago voted against funding the federal government and who have railed against government spending have been out front claiming credit for getting federal disaster relief.  

Republican presidential nominee Trump and Republican vice presidential nominee Ohio senator J.D. Vance have been claiming that it was Trump who capped the cost of insulin at $35 a month. Vance has accused Vice President Kamala Harris of lying when the Biden administration takes credit for it. Vance’s statement, itself, is a breathtaking lie. Trump signed an executive order in July 2020 establishing a temporary, voluntary program that let some Medicare Part D prescription drug plans cap monthly insulin copayments at $35. The program ran from January 1, 2021, through December 31, 2023. 

The Inflation Reduction Act, which Biden signed into law in August 2022, required all Part D plans to charge no more than $35 a month for all covered insulin products. All Democrats in the House and the Senate voted for the Inflation Reduction Act, and all Republicans—including J.D. Vance—voted against it. 

As Republicans have lost the support of suburban women for their attacks on reproductive rights and embrace of the misogyny of the MAGA movement, they have tried to beef up the idea that they are the country’s true supporters of women and families. Trump, who has been found liable for sexual assault, has been trying to assure women: “I want to be your protector. As president, I have to be your protector.” With him back in office, he said at a rally in Pennsylvania, women “will be happy, healthy, confident and free. You will no longer be thinking about abortion.”

Journalist Jessica Valenti noted that antiabortion activists are running advertisements blaming the deaths of women in states with abortion bans not on those bans or those who passed them, but on the Democrats trying to protect reproductive healthcare. Women have died when doctors would not give them lifesaving care out of concerns about prosecution under states’ abortion bans or were unable to access abortion care. But the ads, using the names and images of women who have died under antiabortion regimes, claim that lifesaving care is still legal but doctors don’t know they can use it because of misinformation from pro-choice activists.

Antiabortion Republican Derrick Anderson, who is running to represent Virginia’s seventh congressional district, has appeared in campaign photographs with a woman and children posed as if they are his family, but they are not. He is unmarried and childless, and the family is that of a friend. 

That last one is really weird, but the biggest lies from the Republicans concern immigration, especially as voters blame the Republicans for killing a strong bipartisan border bill earlier this year after Trump demanded they keep the issue open for him to campaign on. J.D. Vance was among those who voted against it. 

There were the lies Vance spread about Springfield, Ohio, of course, attacking the legal Haitian immigrants there who have been credited with revitalizing the city. On Friday and Saturday, Trump lied that Vice President Harris had let 13,000 or 14,000 convicted murderers enter the U.S. in the past three years, who “freely and openly roam our country,” a lie that Elon Musk called “true.” 

In fact, as CNN’s Daniel Dale pointed out, it is a lie. The Department of Homeland Security clarified that the data to which Trump appeared to refer lists individuals who entered the country over the past 40 years—including during his own term—committed crimes in the U.S. rather than their country of origin, and either are currently incarcerated or have served their sentences but can’t be deported because their country of origin won’t accept them. Such individuals are monitored. 

On Saturday, Julia Terruso of the Philadelphia Inquirer reported that a woman in a Philadelphia suburb received a letter that looked like an official document from the fake “Pennsylvania Congressional Office of Immigration Affairs” telling her that she was expected to provide living space to five migrants under a program “written into Law by President Joe Biden and Vice President Kamala Harris.” 

As Terruso wrote, “No office exists, nor does such a government-mandated housing program, but the letter, doctored to look like an official government document, provided specific details designed to mislead someone less attuned to a scam—and laid the blame for the fake program at the feet of President Joe Biden and Vice President Kamala Harris during a heated and close election in which immigration has increasingly become a focal point.”

Lies establish dominance over people being lied to, because lies take away a person’s right to make good decisions about their own life. So what’s the purpose of the Republican lies? 

Former president Trump is the Republican presidential nominee, but his recent attacks on special counsel Jack Smith and his attempts to sell watches for up to $100,000 apiece suggest he is interested mostly in avoiding prosecution and gathering donations. At his recent events he is slurring his words, unable to answer questions, and seems consumed with anger and a desire for revenge against those he sees as his enemies. He has recently referred to Harris as “mentally disabled,” and today in Erie, Pennsylvania, he said that crime would end “if you had one really violent day…. One rough hour. And I mean real rough. The word will get out and it will end immediately.”  

He has, though, focused on painting a picture of the U.S. as a hellscape overrun with undocumented criminal immigrants. Journalist Aaron Rupar of Public Notice, who clips Trump’s speeches on social media, compared yesterday’s rally in Prairie du Chien, Wisconsin, to the “Two Minutes Hate” against political enemies in George Orwell’s Nineteen Eighty-Four. Trump’s attacks on immigrants were so extreme even he admitted “this is a dark speech.” 

Republican vice presidential nominee J.D. Vance is also doubling down on anti-immigrant attacks. In that, they are echoing the language Hungarian prime minister Viktor Orbán used to get voters to support him out of fear of immigrants. Then Orbán took control of Hungary, undermined its democracy, and set himself up as a dictator.  

Once in charge, Orbán insisted that democracy was obsolete. The democratic principle that the law must treat everyone equally and give them a say in their government, he said, weakens a nation by treating women, LGBTQ+ individuals, and racial, ethnic, and religious minorities as equal to white, heterosexual men. Immigration weakens a nation by diluting its purity. He set out to establish what he called “illiberal democracy” or “Christian democracy,” enforcing religious rules and laws that reestablish patriarchy.   

Project 2025 was backed by the right-wing Heritage Foundation, which has ties to Orbán’s Danube Institute, and to the extent he talks about policies, Trump echoes that game plan. He has promised, for example, that he would replace civil servants with loyalists and today again vowed to get rid of the Department of Education, both key items in Project 2025.

Vance has gone further, attacking secular American society itself. In 2021 he said in an interview that American “conservatives…have lost every major powerful institution in the country, except for maybe churches and religious institutions, which of course are weaker now than they’ve ever been. We’ve lost big business. We’ve lost finance. We’ve lost the culture. We’ve lost the academy. And if we’re going to actually really affect real change in the country, it will require us completely replacing the existing ruling class with another ruling class…. I don’t think there’s sort of a compromise that we’re going to come with the people who currently actually control the country. Unless we overthrow them in some way, we’re going to keep losing.” “We really need to be really ruthless when it comes to the exercise of power,” he said. 

On Saturday, Vance spoke at an event hosted by right-wing extremist evangelical leader Lance Wallnau, a member of the New Apostolic Reformation movement that seeks to end the separation of church and state and put the United States under religious rule. At the event, Vance claimed that “American children… can’t add five plus five, but they can tell you that there are 87 different genders.” He claimed that schools are teaching children “radical ideas” rather than “reading, writing, arithmetic.” He called it “creeping socialism in our schools,” and called for cutting funding for public education. 

The White House today said that more than 3,300 federal personnel are deployed in the states impacted by Hurricane Helene and that at least 50,000 people from 31 states, the District of Columbia, and Canada are working to restore power. FEMA has moved in food and is working to restore cell coverage; federal search and rescue teams are on the ground; the U.S. Coast Guard is working to reopen damaged ports; the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers is assessing damage and moving debris; the Environmental Protection Agency is working on water systems; the Small Business Administration has 50 people on the ground to support small businesses; the U.S. Department of Energy is monitoring power, fuel, and supply chains; the Department of Agriculture is extending credit to farmers who lost crops and livestock.  

At a campaign event in Las Vegas tonight, Vice President Harris said “we will stand with these communities for as long as it takes to make sure that they are able to recover and rebuild.”

Wallnau has accused Harris of practicing witchcraft. 

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

[emo-gremlin]

My f/os as more memes because I found more and it's funny

Feat Yarnaby, myself and Hero because yes

Harley: *pounting the camera at Yarnaby* This little guy keeps biting my screen and my wires.

Harley: you know what that means

Harley: Microwave~

Yarnaby: *Purrs*

💗

Vox: I got a new tv show plot.

Mr. Puzzles: oh?

Vox: basically there's this high school girl except she's got big boobs. I mean some serious honkers. A real set of badonkers. Packing some dobonhonkeros. Massive dohoonkabhankoloos. Big old tonhongerekoogers.

Mr. Puzzles: What happens next?

Vox: transfer student shows up with even BIGGER bonkhonagahoogs. HUMONGOUS hungolomghnonoloughongous.

💗

RGB: this. Is a bucket

Cancer Lord: Dear God.

RGB: There's more.

Cancer Lord: no.

💗

Vox: SHUT UP! I'm going to kill the next person I fucking see i swear to God.

Me: hello! Hi! I'm so happy to see you!

*Peter and Banban start losing their collective shit*

Vox: Hey!

💗

Cancer lord: Girls kiss other girls, and no one bats an eye.

Cancer Lord: but when I kiss my homies goodnight...Society.

Cancer Lord: Society calls me gay!

💗

CRT: OH NO!

CRT: OUR TABLE!

CRT: ITS BROKEN!

💗

Banban, drunk off his ass: Hiiiiii Angel!

*RGB and Hero lose their minds*

Banban: It's me, the devil! I love youuuu

💗

Vox: My source is that I made it the fuck up

💗

Toon! Henry: WHY can't I move my mouth?! Is this an internal dialog?

Toon! Henry: i can't see the end of the horizon!

Toon! Henry: HATSUNE MIKU?! IS THAT YOU?!

💗

Tomie: Anyone wanna hang out this weekend?

RGB: I'm in weldon spring.

Mr. Puzzles: I'm in Yeblay.

CRT: I'm in the abandoned city of Pripyat.

Cancer Lord: I'm inside one of the ancient down oil tanks.

Banban: I'm off to the arctic, for 3 weeks.

Vox: I'm not inside a fusion reactor

Toon! Henry: I'm in Hull.

John Doe: I'm at Disney world!

Sunny Day Jack: I'm in an airplane bathroom.

Tomie: Damn ya'll could've just said no, jeez.

💗

John Doe: WOOOOOO YEAH BABY! THAT'S WHAT I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR, THATS WHAT ITS ALL ABOUT! AAAAAA

💗

Sunny Day Jack: A uh, 10 year old girl with down syndrome, who was taken from her mother, and put in a cage-

Harley and Prophet: Womp Womp.

Sunny Day Jack: i read about a- Did you just say 'womp womp' to a 10 year old with down syndrome?

💗

Gabriel: *sigh* I miss my wife, Oracle. I miss her a lot. I'll be back.

💗

*Prophet fucking with the experimental mosquitoes*

Oracle: Brother ew. Brother ew. What's that? What's that brother?

💗

*playing with a Oujia board*

Oracle: What happened to you, Jack?

Vox: how many pickles can you shove up your ass?

*Oracle, Monster! Henry, and Angel look at Vox*

*Board moves*

Monster! Henry: 9?!

Angel: 91?!

Oracle: 910?!

*Vox.exe has stopped working from laughing too hard*

Monster! Henry: 910 pickles?!

💗

Mr. Puzzles: y'all cool with your girl making more money than you? Ladies y'all cool with making more money than your man?

Banban: MR. PUZZLES! DROP ANOTHER DISS TRACK, AND MY LIFE IS YOURS!

💗

Peter: You hate the rain?

RGB: Yeah.YEAH.

Peter: *chuckles* how could anyone hate the rain?

John Doe, running as fast as he can: ON GOD THEY TRYING TO DROWN ME IN THIS HOE! I CANNOT SEE!

💗

[11queensupreme11]

First of all: Long Live the Queen! Hope you're doing great, your stories are a real delicacy... I first discovered your Tsunami fic when I was in my jjk era, but your Arsenic Blues woke up my inner pjo fan. So eager to see how this all unfold.

But for now, time for the Rankings!

My personnal RoR favorites based on the manga only:

1) Shiva--> Not in the harem, but I had to place him somehow. Was searching for a Shiva fic in the first place. Love the himbo energy. At least it's good to see he's one of the "sane" one in your story.

2) Anubis--> Same, feral himbo doggo energy, can we ask for more?

3) Beelzebub--> Noo don't unalive yourself Bb love u so pretty haha🥺

4) Hadès--> All Hail to the King, here for the BigBro energy

5) Poseidon--> Mytho/Pjo fan here, of course he's one of my favorite gods, but I'm not a fan of his RoR portrayal. He's pretty tho.

6) Apollon--> Too effeminate for my taste, I was rooting for Leonidas anyway.

7) Loki--> U ugly ass, stinky ass, nasty ass bi***

Now, the interesting part, the Ranking based on [Arsenic Blues], as for now, until chapter 31:

1) Beelie Bestie 🤗! It seems you will soon give us reasons to hate him, but for now he's my personal favorite. Hope he will overcome his current difficulties. Fun fact: I tried to translate "Beelie" in my language, tried to find an equivalent nickname, I found "Bébou" (pronounced beeboo, another way to say "baby"). That’s so cute!

2) Loki--> I know it's unlikely but... is this bad that I really want him to take Percy's virginity 😳? Your writing is soooo good, it made me root for him of all people. Everyone loves a good outsider, and since he doesn't want to kill Percy anymore, he climbs up the ranking.

3) Anubis--> Favorite from the manga, I was sooo happy to see that u included the doggo. Didn't appear yet, but I have really high hopes for him. Beware the Allmighty Knot!

4) Poseidon--> This is a dark fic, I understand the appeal, the taboo of the incestual relationship, but since he's already her father, her family, the one who has authority over her, I think he has an unfair advantage compared to the others. This is the reason he's kinda low ranked, but I really loved the relationship he built with our best girl. Embrace Fatherhood (but not too much😰)

5) Hadès--> Same here, too much authority over her, doesn't have the appeal of the gradually evolving relationship. Creepy old  uncle, hope your non-existent liver bursts. For now, he's the one who had the most "action" with Percy, so it seems unlikely that he will have her virginity as well.

6) Apollon--> Well, at least he's funny 😅. I'm sorry, but based on his pathetic simpy behavior, I have to give him the stamp of the "Whiny Little Bitch" of this story. Don't worry tho, there always have to be one in a fic, and he's not as bad as his Tsunami counterpart (Yuuta you nasty motherfucker I had faith in you-).

7) The Seventh--> Seeing the results of the poll, it seems I'm one of the only weirdos who voted for Ahura Mazda. Raa would be awesome too, but I have to say I was disturbed when I first saw that angry buff dude in the spin-off. For me, Raa was still that muscle mommy from the webtoon/manhwa Ennead (read Ennead. Ennead is good for your health). I just want the 7th to not be Cu Chulainn. I know I would still love it if you include him (cause ur writing is golden) but that's just a preference of mine.

I hope I'm understood. That's a big ass message, my thoughts are all over the place and my home country is known for having a shit level in english.

If you're interested I could do the same kind of ranking for Tsunami/Bloodflood. Have a great day, Peace!

A SHIVA LOVER OMG HIIIII

the anime did him sooooo good, he's so hot there, i'm glad they didn't fuck him up like LOOK AT HIM

the bonus chapter for chapter 91 is about shiva AND IM SO PISSED IT HASN'T BEEN TRANSLATED YET, I WANNA READ IT SO BAD I DON'T EVEN CARE IF ITS SUPER SHORT 😭😭

also, YES PLEASE you're free to give me your own bloodflood/tsunami rankings too!!!

[instaquarius]

100 DBZ OC ART CHALLENGE

1.) Introduction.  2.) Flight.  3.) Hero.  4.) Full Moon.  5.) Transformation.  6.) Rage. 7.) Fusion (potara, Namekian, or finger fusion) 8.) Great Ape. 9.) Master and Student. 10.) Tournament. (Worlds Strongest Under the Heavens, the afterlife one from that one filler episode/arc, universes 6 v. 7 tournament, or the Tournament of Power) 11.) Fighting. 12.) Destruction. 13.) Ki control 14.) Aura. 15.) Blasts. 16.) Rivals. 17.) Quest. 18.) Family. 19.) Danger Zone. 20.) As a baby. 21.) With the Z sword (or training with the Z Sword) 22.) Victory. 23.) Death. 24.) Loss. 25.) Crisis. 26.) In other world. 27.) Snake way. 28.) Playing Baseball. 29.) At Kaio Samas' place. (In heaven?) 30.) In hell with HFIL ogres. 31.) Kaioshins' planet. 32.) Lovers. 33.) Doing Ginyu Force poses (or actually IN the Ginyu Force if you want XD) 34.) Saiyaman/Saiyagirl poses. 35.) 1st form, 2nd,3rd, 4th, (Golden or 5th form) 36.) Training in Gravity room 37.) Weighted Gi 38.) Wearing Earth clothes; casual 39.) in Dragonball art style (Like, before Z, Super etc.) 40.) Protection. 41.) Powering up. 42.) Fighting Frieza, Cell or Buu (or a movie villain) 43.) Universal Tournament. 44.) In the future. 45.) Immortality. 46.) Clones 47.) Finding the Dragonballs 48.) Meditating 49.) Fighting a God of Destruction 50.) Ritual 51.) Fighting the Legendary Super Saiyan 52.) Fighting in the Tuffle War 53.) Mind Control (by baby, Babidi, Towa/Mira etc.) 54.) As a Time Breaker 55.) As a Time Patroller 56.) Fighting the Z warriors.  57.) On Planet Vegeta. 58.) Getting absorbed (by a Majin?) 59.) False SSJ 60.) Getting turned into candy 61.) Inside the healing tank (like on Friezas spaceship) 62.) In the Hyperbolic Time Chamber (or Room of Spirit and Time) 63.) Eating. 64.) Revenge. 65.) Pride 66.) Sacrifice. 67.) Bloodied.  68.) Fear. 69.) Heart Virus. 70.) Meeting Arale (from Dr. Slump) 71.) Using the Kaioken. 72.) Climbing Korin Tower (like in original dragonball before flight was a thing) 73.) Wearing a Turtle Shell. 74.) Determined. 75.) Getting Married. 76.) Best Friends. 77.) Screams. 78.) Rescued. 79.) Mafuba. 80.) Killing. 81.) Defeat. 82.) Sadness. 83.) Happiness. 84.) In a Saiyan spacepod. 85.) Hatred. 86.) Crushed. 87.) Beam Struggle. 88.) Genki Dama (Spirit Bomb) 89.) Showering 90.) Wearing the pink Badman shirt 91.) Scheming. 92.) Fighting Merged Zamasu (or Regular Zamasu) 93.) Fighting a Black version of your OC (hint: Goku Black) 94.) Unlocked Potential.  95.) Confused. 96.) In highschool. 97.) Tears. 98.) Act of kindness 99.) Tag team 100.) With you (The creator of OC/artist) saying they survived the Challenge

Rules~~~~ 1.) Can go from any order you wish. It doesn't matter the order you do these in. 2.) Be creative. 3.) All writings/drawings must be related to DBZ in some way/the theme you choose to do. 4.) Link if you do do this? I'd love to see :3 5.) Also please leave a mention to this in your submissions~ 6.) You can use both OCs and cannon characters as long as its related to the series. 7.) Can be done whenever you feel like~ (No deadline or each theme has to be done once a day or anything) 8.) (Your also free to copy paste to a journal or something the themes to keep track of them as long as credits back to me)  9.) Have fun~

[gridgamesgalore]

hi it's me symph 😈😈😈😈(@unluckysymphteen)

what is this experiment au about. I'm intrigued /gen /pos

forgor to add trigger warnings kill me uh so tw for mention of suicid ,, death ,, and eldritch horrors and and bad thigns and rah death death

ok ok ok so its like going to be hard to explain but basically eleven died mysteriously [ i love eleven dont get me wrong she just died for the plot ]

so fifteen was trying to discover how this happened by trying to ask the higher step squads up to ten if they had any info and none of them had it !! and the only big step squad that was avaliable is 91 since 66 is in jail for disasterly crimes and we dont talk about 78 [ luggage seveenty two is NOT the triangular number of tweb get ur facts right ] but fifteen had one problem ; 91 was isolated up in the mountains !!

and then fifteen sent 26 flingty-bun to go find her and bring her back but since the hiking was too waitsome for her because shes an impatient bitch for once and gathers seven and thirteen to like multiply them together so 91 could arrive faster

but fishteeth missed one thing ... you can only get 91 by addition because if you multiply 7 by 13 in this universe very bad things will happen !!

so thirteen and seven got multiplied and got turned into an eldritch abomination which proceeded to kill like alot of integers like eight and and and twenty fork

one day ,, tweb was investigating what happened to elevatorgram and while searching for clues she saw the terrifying amalgamation of 13 and 7 and tweb was like " holy shit ,, what the fuck !! " so tweb started putting together these files of what that thing was and titled it " the ninety-one experiment " [ haha get it I'm so clever ] and found out it was fish teeth doing

so tweb confront fish teeth and like fish teeth kept trying to gaslight tweb that it didn't haplen and at this the point tweb couldnt deal with arguing with fifth team anymore and just exited the building

eventually tweb couldn't take it anymore and commited sayori challenge and passed the files onto grid game galore guy ; grid game galore guy studies the files and encounters what used to be 72 ,, so griddy gyatt galor run as fast he can to get away but severely teeth too also fast cause tweb factors but the wondrous calendar guy save griddy gyatt !! [ calendar apart of group who kills the mutation guys ]

seventy two algamation wasn't even made by fish teeth though ,, it was made by evil self proclaimed scientist fity nine !! who was inspired off the entity xci / 91 experiment / 13 and 7 eldritch monster thingy !! she got 3 victims of her doing ,,, sevenrtu twoeo ,, the nation of america [ fity fike ] ,, and suepr cube of tree [ twneyr sveen ] and fishteeth found out about this so she proceeded to give fity nine 97104 diseases including rabies to the power of the value of 64 from dekrimal to dozenal and made it so she cannot die from these diseases so 59 can feel nothing but pain so silly so jolly !!

uh ans to basically sum up the rest ; fishteeth feed griddy gyatt his dead daughter [ tweb ] ,, grid games put in psych ward ,, fishteeth try to lure eighteen and sixteen into lair to show them mentally ill painter who can predict future in psych ward ,,, stupid ass zesty gay bigender quare of 6 break out of psych ward mentally illness ,, broke fishteeth spine after fishteeth shot them with her bazooka and machine gun 50 million times ,, flingty-bun come in shot quare jn head and heart ,, quare say the cursed words and split flingty-bun in half no thriteen cause the xci thingy ,, and quare gets beaten to death by sixteen who was almost choked to death by quare ,, griddy gyatt get taken to camp and 200 pump heself ,, and yadda yadda xci gets put down by calendar guy and forky cause that thing ate he dog and then all hell breakd loose and forty two turns into a god and sends everyone to different universes ♡♡♡♡

therea more to this but I spent like 15 million years writjgn thi I ♡♡♡♡ I hope you all enjoy gusydgs my au lore oh yes so splendid ♥︎

[handsofaman]

“The fuck is this?”

Warm shafts of light poked through the rusted, shattered windows of the warehouse. The for-sale signs smothered on every tarp glinted in the glow of aged and mostly functioning fluorescent lamps. In the center of the room, catching the warped rectangular sheen of a few windows, was a mound. Oddly shaped, with all kinds of angular and vaguely mechanical points jutting out of the thick canvas tarp, it was without a shadow of a doubt the centerpiece of the exhibit.

“Oh, that?” The curator tried to stifle his grin, fumbling in his pocket for the remote as an old, worn-out crane squealed. The winch stuttered for a few moments before dragging up the cloak, revealing the titanic, hunched figure beneath.

It was a battle frame, bigger than the ones they had on the Air Force base. Everything about this one looked off. Its body just bit too bulky and angular, its head dashed in an antenna and shielding around its burnt out mono-eye. From foot to helmet it was adorned in bright white paint, only broken up by a black panel on the right shoulder.

“Jesus… you’re allowed to sell these?”

“It’s not a fighting vehicle, moron, it’s an antique.”

“Antique my fuckin ass man, it’s got a missile rack.”

“Hey!” The owner glared at the guest, his eyes narrowing as he almost protectively leaned his arm over the things knee. Its leg alone was nearly twice the width of his torso, and even hunched over it poked its head through the wooden girders and threatened to break through the sheet metal roof. “This thing’s from the lunar war, ya hear? Type 91 Sternjager, limited production and even more limited survival rate.”

“Lunar war? Fuck, that’s gotta be worth like a couple million.”

“Millions? Jesus Christ, will you have a little respect? This motherfucker saved our country and you’re worried about-”

“The hell kind of name is Sternjager? Why’d we be using a German MAX?”

The curator’s eyes twinkled a little at the question, grinning as he looked up at the veteran’s enormous arm. Crossed over its chest and resting against the monumental rifle between the goliaths legs, its arm still bore the faded logo of the ICAR. A white Pegasus over a black shield, ‘Victory Over Honor’ emblazoned below.

“Well that’s the beauty, we didn’t. 5 noble, good men decided they’d defect and help save America.” He nodded slowly, eyes shut as he thought back. He’d never been to space, but he could picture it in his head. Clear as day, he could see them. See their wizened faces, the resolve in their eyes as they carried that bomb through the abyss and into the heart of the rebel stronghold. God, he wished he was there. Able to watch as the nuke pierced the heart of the moon. Sure, they lost the war, but what’s there to win when you’ve decimated so much.

[diediegamchicothdie]

Round and Round

[Pelle and Quorthon]

I hate you so much that i need to fuck you.

Fanfic based in glam/hair metal songs.

Also available in AO3!

He thought the quiet days of spring in March '91 were eternal, with their aura of tranquility consumed in a rampaging, passionate romance, those that lift you up and shake you from within, leaving a body with a pleasant pain that eventually was perfect. He seemed to have all the cards in his favor, for the daytime was short enough to work on his music and the long nights to celebrate his overwhelming success, Great celebrations to his ego where he loved to fill his blood with alcohol leaving finally rest his brain off for a few moments; in the end he had achieved his goal: Bathory was totally and exclusively his own, that truth made him writhe of happiness. The total creative control of his beloved band was a delicious delight. Power made him feel so fulfilled, a feeling that not everyone understood, much less understands, his earthly orgasm. He had everything he ever wanted, so his '83 child self had been struggling, something of his own, own, possessing: a successful band, enough money to support his whims, lovers of all kinds and friends who will cover his back, a milestone, an enviable life, at the very least desirable, he had nothing to complain about, by 91 he had achieved it, at his mere 25 years he could safely say that his life was good, simple for a metal star, respectable and imposing, where his reputation preceded him, his name carried a great weight, his words were constantly asked for good advice, he could make himself felt without attacking, because indifference was a powerful weapon and he was not a troublesome type nor much less, his band was his business, his life and to some extent his lover, he preferred to keep it quiet, simple, on the sidelines, not needed a great demonstration to remain a legend.

It was Quorthon, leader of Bathory, a project both dark and proud of its Nordic roots, drinking from the use and custom of the Scandinavian peoples, their worldview, acting, heritage, combining with tradition, but especially the Viking roots. His historical heritage gave him a warm embrace on the back that only grew when he spoke of the strength of the Nordic blood. Always running in circles about how they were forced to abandon their origin and bow down before an alien God, for he could not help but run in circles about the same thing. Finding a thousand different ways to talk about the same thing, mutating in different forms, that was its essence, that was all its work, its soul crushed in the feeling of fervent nationalism before its ancestors and traditions. Thomas Börje Forsberg as his own person, had his own cross to bear, he could not deny it, was a nerd, not of those who know about numbers and long algebraic operations; hardly had finished the institute by pressure from his father. He was a history nerd, especially the history situated in the later epoch of the Germanic Iron Age understood in modernity between the years 793 to 1100 and clearly its corresponding mythology. With this fact already covered, it was obvious to infer that he could spend hours talking about every historical event. The emotion that he displayed in his body every time he was able to vomit historical labia about life in ancient Scandinavia. No one would fully understand how he ecstatically explained the opera of the Valkyries of Wagner to anyone who would listen, but, being totally forced to be honest again before himself: nobody wanted to talk about things that the crowd (including their own fans) didn’t really care that much. Although that truth was a kind of stab, he could live with it, he could still talk to the paper, the pen and his collection of books by Peter Foote and David M. Wilson. He knew at one point that loneliness was a good friend, something transient but very bearable. For the sake of his body and soul, Thomas, he would not bother to beg anyone to listen. He had to admit that his pride was his greatest flaw, but he wasn’t so lethal or unpleasant in his own eyes he deserved to be proud, he was a young man, talented, handsome and a musical genius, he had something to brag about, he didn’t feel ashamed of himself, nor was he hiding behind false identities. That’s why he knew, it’s more, he didn’t even know. He buried under his skin the memory made presence as if it were a spectral entity, giving honor to his pale skin, where his bluish veins stand out like thin ropes that tied his slim body in a natural bondage. All this meant the presence of that raven which brings omens, of death, as he liked to call himself, who had only come to shit in his shop, at work. He was waiting for it, in his mind had imagined this day with so much insistence, in the deepest part he recognized the moment of their reunion because what goes around, goes around, even more strongly.

In his silent retaliation he bit the cigarette between his lips, reaching his mouth of the unpleasant rest of tobacco swallowing large pieces of tobacco and more shit, swallowing scraping his throat, in any other case did not give importance to his enemies, because no matter how much he hated that concept. He had to admit that it was a real enmity between bands or members of the same band who just ended badly, preferred not to pay attention to those childish fights that so burdened him, but this case was totally particular out of any logical understanding as a chloroform dream. Didn’t want to go around in circles again, but in the underground metal industry it’s easy to get yourself a lot of enemies. Fucking crazies scumbags, fed by the bastard who called himself death when it was just a pathetic attempt of a man who could not even fill his own clothes. There it was, the myth, the figure, the legend full of shit of Per Yngve Ohlin. He was so stupid and brazen, without a shred of shame in spite of his past, ignoring his guilt that he should carry as a sad stain of shame. Certainly not, because knowing his show of crap in mayhem knew very well that he should not have the slightest respect for himself or others, and especially before him. Finally, the laser gaze that followed him through the shop took effect and his much-acclaimed wish was fulfilled. Their eyes connected, the blue of their irises clattering, eating each other in a silent, anxious dance, that they both thought they could kill themselves by just looking at each other. He round and round again, felt no need to explain it again, preferred to ignore it before all in a game of power and humiliation. He preferred to think that he never met him, that he never touched him, that neither his words nor their bodies ever coincided, but before the fullness of being alone in front of the records, t-shirts and other merchandise of varied genres of metal with the music of "RATT" in the background. Furthermore, he found no reason to keep silent, because he was a rather relaxed guy, but he had his limits and the mere presence of Per already crossed all his lines, but he also liked crossing lines.

— What are you doing here? I thought you weren’t good enough for the store of a mediocre and average rock star in the city full of aspirational posers like Stockholm.

He let go amused, biting his tongue with the last sentence. To his surprise, the young ghost before him remained indifferent. His feet moved loudly, walking a couple of steps around the tent. "As if he were taking over my space," thought Thomas, striking the soft brain muscle inside his skull. So early in the morning, just like last time, the brat from Västerhaninge became a damn nuisance. He could see him, thinner, with worse posture and a face of a finished man, a pathetic portrait for someone so young, but he had asked for it, that was what bothered him the most.

— You are in my shop, and you are not able to answer — he muttered even more annoyed. Everything about him irritated him, his bad posture and only repulsive smell that revealed his poor hygiene, and the body he had once found fascinating, so worn out, turned to see it, dismayed. - What do you want?

— Today I come in work of client. Are you so rude with your clients always?

The question fell like ice. He refused, lowering his head. It was almost funny, a bad joke, to see that arrogant brat, who had provoked him, shaken him as if he had horns and was pushing him like a juvenile goat. Sigh, this time, turned his gaze to him holding it, watching as he took a pair of discs from various sections, strutting as if he knew that place from memory and then approaching the counter.

—You really don’t come to tease me?

—If I wanted to do it, I would have pissed in the window outside while you were lost writing your stupid lyrics.

He could only remain silent. He looked at the long fingers of the man in front of him, battered, scarred and malnourished to the point of absurdity, he might be mean and say they were like chopsticks, but being more honest with himself, they seemed to be rose stalks with broken thorns. Surely in that same state was his whole body, possible scars that did not care to know at the time, that impact was like bitter bile in his mouth, How could your inner circle or fans say they loved or admired you when they enjoyed watching what you were doing to your body? He felt sorry for the dead, and as his eyes had no hope, he made him reconsider his hatred, but not enough to prevent him from being a bastard like the other.

—Cinderella, excellent choice, "long cold winter," is one of my favorite records until you learn some music, huh?

The soft laughter came out as a declaration of victory on his part, a way of saying "I have won," but Per did not seem angry at his provocation, his eyes revealed their truth, he really looked dead, his pale blue orbs were tired decorated with dark and yellowish spots around him, had he passed through a spiritual death? He did not have the will to argue.

—It’s for my sister — he muttered in a low voice, his voice was different, as if hid breath possessed a cold air, totally icy, you could tell that she didn’t want to talk anymore - she has always liked this kind of thing.

—Then she has an incredible taste -—pity that this was her territory, the territory of Quorthon who only lived for his own hedonism, by consequence only his will would be fulfilled — I did not know you had brothers.

— We didn’t talk so much that you would know — I explain quickly a little exasperated, but equally defeated — I don’t like to bring my family together with this, I guess it’s a bit embarrassing for them, you know all on the scene are a bunch of idiots and fakes, started with jokes about my mother, I don’t want them to go after my brothers.

The understanding of those words made him make a grimace on his face; it was not entirely a smile. A gesture that made him feel, not so smug, something inside his confused consciousness incited him to act out of himself. If it was anyone else, he would have told him to fuck off, laugh in his face and spit if he could, but he wasn’t just anybody. He took a breath, moved a few centimeters away from the counter, then made a head-shake as a sign to go next to him behind the cash register. Per looked at him somewhat puzzled, he also understood the behavior of the old man, who shared his own disgust. He knew full well that he might be walking into the mouth of the wolf, but he was not a man of common sense, a living being who had no appreciation for himself. He decided to obey like a dog, recognizing his old master. This time he was sitting next to them, on top of a wooden box full of imports covered with a Swedish flag.

—You’re a good brother...

He acknowledged with a conciliatory tone of voice that led Per into a bitter, febrile dream which he chose to ignore.

—I’m not.

He quickly clarified, without wanting to give rise to any confusion.

— You seem to be — he pointed back turning to see him, took his can of Pepsi and gave him a sip swallowing the liquid to clean his mouth as to give himself strength before coming back to speak, even without knowing how to handle the situation with all his abilities — I followed you — Admitted removed from the penalty and then justify himself — although it is impossible not to do so with his scandal, you had been achieving in Norway why have you returned?

The question remained in the air, like a riddle, a doubt that even though the minor wanted to answer it, he did not know how to approach it.

— Because I’m not a good brother.

He concluded in a blunt manner, a conclusion that sounded so simple, but so biting at the same time, a phrase that was forced to drink a long sip of that sweet oil-colored liquid that he hated so much "but at least it’s not coca-cola" Per consoled himself by swallowing as if his life depended on it, his first food, he denied by leaning his face against his hand.

— Is that all of it?

Genuine curiosity filled the tense air, as if it were a fishbowl flooded with the feeling gathered by the pair of Swedes who could barely speak without jumping to their jugulars, Per shrugged back in response, as if that covered any doubt.

— If you think I failed in Norway, that the time I spent there was a futile struggle, totally sterile and did not get anywhere... You’re right, I’ve been wasted four years, that’s all.

— I wouldn’t say it’s a failure, at all, those idiots who find taste in whatever they’re doing, they adore you.

— I don’t want that, I don’t want to be worshiped by idiots.

He said, looking at the ground. Thomas on his side, he bites the inside of his cheek, playing with his fingers in the dressing room, his dominant posture: straight back, but relaxed against the finely detailed black wood, with his long legs covered with latex that melted into his flesh, with her elegant appendages crossed one in front of the other, with sunglasses over her totally smooth and shiny light brown hair. A well-polished and planned image contrasted too much with the defeat of the man who was once called the sad Norwegian black metal scene.

— How long do you plan to stay?

A faint sound of doubt escaped down the throat of the minor who didn’t know how to respond to that, his skinny hands traveled to his blonde hair, not very well cared for, he was greasy and battered by the ravages of his act, Yet I play quite amusing with the golden fibers between his fingers. For a few moments the repetitive movement took him to a kind of trance so peaceful, the look lost, I could not see it.

— I don’t know, I haven’t thought about it enough, maybe forever? , not in Stockholm, I don’t like Stockholm, this city makes me feel sick, like, I don’t know, I feel dirty, like when Øystein put on Tangerine Dream in the morning.

— Tangerine Dream?

Murmured somewhat incredulous at that revelation, never thought that someone of the nature of "Euronymous" will enjoy a band with such a corny name, but much less imagine that Per will reveal it so easily, it was obvious that the boy had come back stabbed, with the bleeding wound opening to let go of everything he had ever kept exclusively for himself, with his cold gaze rising before him, that silent statement "you know me from the beginning" clear, he did, knew his disgust, but not the sensitivity of his soul.

— It’s, um, you know, an electronic project, I hate electronics — he hesitated in his speech, the look of Quorthon on his pale face that showed his clear discomfort when talking about that music, always making him cross lines — It’s like, you know, movie soundtrack and stuff like that, it makes me feel like I can play colors, he used to put the "Wavelength" soundtrack in the morning, I hated it, from "Alien Voices" to "Mojave End Title Reprise", I would also insist on seeing those silly movies with philosophical message and undecipherable background, I do not understand them prefer the blood, he liked "Blue Velvet" would insist on seeing that tape again and again, it hurts my eyes, And the soundtrack? , It’s a mess!

He muttered with his eyes, a pair of wells sunk in his white skin, what sand, Thomas understood that he had not before death, but a ghost, but what goes back, and much stronger.

— You hate it so much that you seem to know every detail.

At that moment that face inexpressible released a spark of life, understanding the severity of that stab, but does not back away, at all, nodded his head higher — to hate something must know it, I hate Tangerine Dream, Pink Floyd, the stupid filmography of David Lynch and all the synthesizer crap, makes me feel dizzy.

— You always hated that they had power and control over you.

He pointed out quite jokingly of his words, again adopting an attitude of shit, but the blond this time was not content to spit at his feet. The boots of the elder were filled with liquid saliva without a drop of thickness in a gleaming yellowish shade, coming out of the cracked lips of the younger one, who, annoyed, got up to go out, not wanting to give more or to be more precise, to give him further explanations.

—You’re running again?

Quorthon questioned, now defensive to Per wishing to kill him on the spot, but not wanting the other to leave, not like that, not so fast. Per, he had no more desire to talk. Thomas' conscience was beating in his stomach to his brain, it was his fault, he knew it, he was so proud to see him open up, as if he were still that nervous kid who had appeared that night at "Heavy Sound Shop" just four years ago, and he had just closed it again, like an idiot.

— I don’t hate the power over me, if you think I do it you don’t know it, you know well what you did, you don’t know me, right? , no, not at all, but you always open your mouth and fuck everything up, you couldn’t treat me like a customer — mumbled between teeth, really upset, but Thomas was delighted, because he saw something more than death in his eyes, because he preferred it furious, irritated as a demon rather than cold as a dead — No, you can never be real like all the fucking fake ones that you protect.

— What did I do? What did I do? Tell me, if it was you who came to me with all those sweet words and then sent me to hell like a bastard, am I the bad guy here? — asked indignantly, finally the weight of the past falling like thousands of needles on their thin pieces of metal that were buried under the muscles, which had so much avoided had finally returned, so it goes back and much stronger — I really thought you had an interest in me, not what I could give you.

The revelation startled the blond man, who struck his hand hard against the wood and made it tremble. Quorthon’s look was up to his tense face, constricted in a mere expression of frustration, red with anger, bright as a Christmas light bulb. After all the exchange, his comings and goings, running around in circles had finally reached him, like a burst of salty water that went into his lungs, choking on his own words, choking on fellow countrymen, until he could finally vomit on him, the poisonous words accompanied by splashes of saliva on his face.

— ¡You think what I did that night was to get something out of you! You’re a fucking selfish pig! — Per’s hands trembled with pure rage produced by the pure hatred generated by that revelation which knew him as pure poison — You think I let myself emasculate because I thought I would have something of you!

The claims were spilling out into the room that now seemed to be airless, filled only with the endless insults of the younger man, that desperate call to Thomas’s brain who could barely process what was happening. He bit his lip, feeling the shame that it concealed in his gut, going from stomach to esophagus, sticking himself into his throat, had really crossed its limits, but how would he knows if his word had been law, if he had never heard the version of the blond that now crumbled and rebuilt which phoenix before his eyes.

— I, I never expected anything material from you, I was just so happy to meet you that my fanaticism clouded my vision, but you are disappointing —accepted before the truth of phrases, as if you tore apart from the esophagus —You are always disappointing! A mediocre and average rock star, a daddy’s boy who doesn’t know how to earn things for himself, because of you I had to go, you threw me into misfortune, if you had signed "Morbid" I would not have had to settle for the hell that is Norway!

The sordid accusations were no longer needles, they were daggers that only tore his conscience, the coldest eyes of the thinnest man, his weak figure was soaring. Per, with the rage of a broken man, spat again, but this time falling his face of Thomas, who closed his eyes, clenched both his fists and teeth. Now, Per was ready to fight, he was looking forward to it, he had been looking for it for so long, he fantasized about this moment. He had not come as this one had wished, when he was on the top and all recognized his name, he would return for Quorthon, take him by the horns and drag his head against the ground, make him kiss his feet and put him in his place, at the mercy of true darkness. Now, under the shadow of his failure, he did not care about his wet fantasies of revenge, the eyes of Quorthon on him excited him, taking him to the primitive state of the brain where only the response of fight or flight remained, and he was already tired of running away, his lips clenched with a frown, but the older one just walked away turning around, looking for a tissue to wipe his face, again disappointing.

— I’m not going to do this, have you even looked at yourself? — He asks laughing at the confusion of Per before his reproach, putting things to a strange level, he did not need as many words as the smallest to get hurt — you look like a corpse, do you have at least a job with which to solve your bones?

Per slowly denied in a burst of confusion before the wave of information without understanding why Quorthon, the doubt before his acting was so great that it seemed a shadow like Nosferatu —No, I have nothing for the moment, I thought to stay for Easter, but now it’s final, I’ll find something to do... What do you care?

— Do you have any additional studies? Any after-school technician?

Questioned shocked by the new negative of the minor who only shrugged his shoulders, not knowing very well what to answer, people did not use to question how well read he was, the scene was not interested in these things, just assume a level of study. Usually they said he was smart, personally preferred to say that he only had personality, at that moment he again took a docile act leaving his defensive posture, Per adopted the curious look of Quorthon.

—What do you get?

—How did you plan to buy the albums?

Per himself shrugged again, like a kind of body tic, followed by another and another, blinking repeatedly as fluttering butterflies and then bit his tongue a little bit playfully, he was not going to hurt — I have some money saved, Well, just right, I wanted to give them something nice as an apology, and well, I asked a friend to come see the prices and adjust that…

He muttered shyly. Thomas nodded feeling strange, a mixture of sorrow and tenderness, sometimes he forgot the nature of the kid, certainly was very hard on him, he knew it. In his defense, there was something to push him and see his reaction that attracted him, his anger was somewhat intoxicating, a kind of almost addictive pleasure to watch him rage, but now his face seems more innocent, naive, like the first time he met. His pale sad eyes, full of doubts, so tender that he could not help the laughter that came out of his lips as much as he tried, was not malicious, just a natural reaction to seeing him in that way.

— Per, how about you come work here? I’m busy with the band and I need someone who knows music and can handle all this, do you think you can handle it?

The question remained in the air for quite a while, Per looked down at the floor and gently slammed against the counter as he hit the floor with his dirty shoes in some sort of strange dance, would you?, He didn’t know. When Øystein spoke of Helvète he was not excited, not at all, he could not look like the right hand of the Norwegian, no more, he did not look at himself cleaning shelves and being in endless talks about the scene, he was tired, so tired. Quorthon’s shop was not like inner circle, at all, it was a place for posers and beginners in the metal world, very relaxed, no one would recognize it, what most wanted, to disappear into the metal world as a kind of urban legend. If he was mistaken for the false ones, other idiots would simply forget him, could even exclude him and remove him as a dirty traitor, that thought was a relief, then decided took the records, He looked up at the man with brown hair who was still restless waiting for his answer.

—So? What do you say, Per, are you in?

— I suppose if you’re going bald from stress, if I were you, I’d check those entries — he pointed shamelessly while holding the albums to his chest as if trying to melt plastic with his body, Thomas’s face filled with blood so quickly that he could not control it by touching his hair at such a sign, but he could not respond, for Per was already ready — When do I start?

— Tomorrow, I want you here at 9 o'clock, the working day is regular, you will be given all the benefits of the law along with the minimum wage, do you agree?

Asked ironically, because I knew that the other had nothing else, not that jobs fell from heaven, more for someone like Per. For whom he nodded backing up with albums even against his body as if they were to be snatched at some point, Per whose thin lips only a noise like a "Tomorrow see you" left his body as a last statement before leaving the place as ghostly as he entered. Only then did Thomas understand that he was still a cheeky, in a dream that only alarms that sounded like rumblings could wake him up, his body jumped even confused by what had just happened, quickly turned off the alarms and then denied with his head that he was staying a little in the clouds. He didn’t even know what he had done, he wasn’t even going to question the reason for his decision, but whatever it was, he had to prove it now. It was time, he had to retry the analgesic effect of joining his body with the psychotic dead man, it was all, he had no more comfort, only "RATT" at full volume through the speakers in the store understood their feelings.