#ringtone 2021

[cynical-crypt]

keep quiet

NOTHING COMES AS EASY AS YOU

[tozierstache]

they should invent a job that isn't so sound effects based so i can know peace

[wannabehockeygf]

Snow's Falling - Matthew Tkachuk

So... I did a thing, and I wrote an entire Tkachuk mini-fic instead of working on my other WIPS (sorry LOL) Word Count: 10k

Pairing: Matthew Tkachuk x fem! reader

Tags: Fluff, texting, self-discovery, don't know what else

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol

Notes: This takes place a few years back, when he was still on the flames (alberta girl by heart I couldn't bring myself to write about Florida), I'm gonna say it's around 2020-2021 (ignoring covid ofc). This was going to be smutty but I decided against it halfway through writing. (***) is kind of like a chapter/long time skip, (---) short time skip. AND LETS JUST IGNORE HIS BIRTHDAY IS ACTUALLY THE SECOND WEEK OF DECEMBER! THIS IS NOT PROOF READ! My eyes hurt so just lmk if something is wrong. Also it might be repetitive because this is basically just an idea dump lol.

ratthew grow that hair out again I’m begging

***

CALGARY, ALBERTA was the best city in Canada - to you, anyway. Close to every time someone said that you were wrong, you defended it with your entire heart and soul, as if your life depended on it. You knew that the negative forty winters would always be outshined by the sheer atmosphere of the city, the people, the everything.

This was your hometown, after all. And to you, absolutely nothing would have beaten it.

That was until a couple of weeks ago, a gloomy early November afternoon when the first snow of the year had just started falling, and you were laying down on your plush leather couch in your loft apartment. The dim light from the overcast sky filtered through the large glass windows, casting a soft, grayish hue over the room. The warmth from your latte radiated through the ceramic mug, the sensation slightly burning the tips of your fingers. You had your laptop propped on your lap as you reviewed a slideshow from your last lecture, the glow of the screen reflecting off your eyes. The soft hum of the city’s afternoon rush filled the room, a symphony of distant car engines and muffled conversations.

You momentarily turned your head to the large glass sliding door leading to your balcony, watching the snowflakes fall gently, each one a unique crystal dancing its way to the ground. Winter was here, and it wouldn’t be long before you would have to trade in your baseball caps and leggings for jeans and beanies. The thought of it brought a small, nostalgic smile to your face as you envisioned snow-covered streets and the festive lights that would soon adorn the city.

Your phone suddenly started ringing, snapping you out of the magical, snowy trance you were stuck in. The ringtone pierced the tranquil atmosphere, making you jump slightly. You reached for it, your nicely manicured nails clacking against the screen as you swiped right to accept the call. “Hey, babe, what’s up?” you asked, your eyes now focused on your laptop screen again, though your mind was still partially lost in the falling snow outside.

“Hey,” your boyfriend’s voice came through, clearly deflated and even slightly shaky, “Can we talk?”

You immediately sat up, propping up your back with a pillow as you put your latte on the coffee table. The warmth from the mug lingered on your fingertips. “Of course, what’s up?” you replied, concern whirling within you.

Your boyfriend sighed, a sound heavy with unspoken words. “I don’t even know how to say this, but… um, we need to break up.”

The words hit you like a blizzard, much like the one outside, but this one was much worse. You felt as if the ground beneath you had disappeared, leaving you to float in a surreal void. “Wait, what?” you managed to stammer, your voice barely above a whisper. “Why? What happened?”

“I just… I don’t think this is working anymore,” he said, his voice tinged with regret. “I’ve been feeling this way for a while, and I think it’s best if we both move on.”

Your mind raced as you tried to process his words. You thought back to the times you’d shared together, the laughs, the arguments, the moments that had defined your relationship. It was as if the day you met on the University of Calgary campus a year ago was just yesterday, and it didn’t make sense. How had it come to this?

“Is there someone else?” you asked, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and fear.

“No, it’s not that,” he replied quickly. “It’s just… I’ve changed. We’ve changed. I think we’re both heading in different directions.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you blinked them back furiously, unwilling to let them fall. “But I love you,” you said, your voice breaking.

“I know,” he said softly. “It’s not you, it’s me.”

The line went silent for a moment, and all you could hear was your heart pounding in your ears, so hard it felt like it was about to explode out of your chest. You didn’t know what you were supposed to do, as you’d never felt pain like that before.

“I’m sorry,” he said finally. “I really am. I hope we can still be friends.”

You knew those words were meant to comfort, but they only made the pain worse. “Yeah,” you said, forcing the word out. “Me too.”

You hung up the phone, your hands shaking. The laptop screen in front of you blurred as tears filled your eyes. You leaned back against the couch, hugging a pillow to your chest as sobs wracked your body, completely and utterly. But the noise outside continued, oblivious to your personal storm.

Calgary wouldn’t stop moving, no matter what happened to you. ***

1 month later

Your thumb rolls against the lighter, the spark flaring up in the dim room as you ignite it, tipping a holly berry-scented candle toward the flame until the wick begins to blacken at the end. The warm, spicy scent fills the air, mingling with the cool night breeze wafting through the open window. The white duvet beneath you crinkles softly as you lean back into the plush comfort of your bed, picking up your phone to scroll mindlessly. The soft glow of the screen illuminates your face in the otherwise dark room, casting fleeting shadows as you swipe through various posts.

You come across an Instagram story from a girl you’d met in a campus library a few years back. The story is a screenshot of texts she had exchanged with her ‘number neighbour’—a person whose phone number differs by just one digit. The joke in her story is that her neighbor turned out to be a thirteen-year-old boy, but the concept intrigues you nonetheless.

Despite the nagging voice of reason, you press the messages app. Your thumbs work swiftly, typing your number but with the last digit counted up. The screen's light reflects in your eyes as you lean over to turn on your bedside lamp, casting a warm glow that lights the room halfway. You snap a selfie, making a thumbs-up gesture toward the camera, a half-smile tugging at your lips. You type out a jokey message along with it, and after a brief hesitation, you tap send. Nothing too bad could happen, right?

You: Happy birthday man, hope you had beers on the house! [insert selfie]

After sending the message, you throw your phone across the bed. It lands on the opposite corner with a soft thud. It's already eleven-thirty, and whoever your 'number neighbour' is, if they even respond, probably won’t do so until morning. You shut your eyes, the flickering candle casting dancing shadows on the walls. The room is filled with the comforting scent of holly berry, lulling you closer to sleep, even though you know you’ll have to put the candle out eventually. Exhaustion takes over, and you're seconds away from drifting off.

Until your phone pings.

You jolt awake at the sound, your heart skipping a beat. No way, right? You reach over to your phone, the screen lighting up the dim room. The notification icon indicates a new message, and with a mix of curiosity and trepidation, you unlock your phone to see what they said.

???: Haha thanks, didn’t know it was my birthday today!

Attached is a picture of the side of a man’s face, brown curls falling down his forehead glistening with sweat. You can see a gym behind him and a dimple on his cheek as he mirrors your thumbs-up, but nothing else besides half of a blue eye. The photo is taken from an upward angle where you notice he is wearing a muscle shirt, and lord, is he fit.

You: You’re at the gym this late?

???: Hell yeah. Best time, honestly. Knocks me right out when I get home.

You: Fair enough, guess we’re both night owls.

???: Guess so.

You let the text sit for a while, unsure how to respond, but to your surprise, another text comes through five minutes later.

???: So, who am I talking to?

You stare at the screen, debating whether to reveal your identity or keep the conversation anonymous for a bit longer. There's something intriguing about this mystery man, and a part of you wants to prolong the curiosity. You decide to play along.

You: Your number neighbour. Saw it on someone’s story. You’re not a thirteen-year-old boy, are you?

???: Last time I checked, no. Definitely not a thirteen-year-old boy.

You can't help but chuckle at his response. There’s something about this mystery conversation that feels oddly comforting, a small distraction from the heartbreak that still lingers. You decide to keep the banter going, finding solace in this unexpected connection.

You: Good to know. Would be weird if I was texting a middle schooler.

???: Agreed. So, can I get a name, number neighbour?

You bite your lip, contemplating his request. This playful anonymity has provided a small, thrilling escape from the heartbreak you are still nursing. But something about his confidence, and the hint of charm in his words, makes you want to take the plunge.

You: Maybe... It depends. Are you going to tell me yours first?

There is a pause, and you imagine him standing there in the gym, perhaps wiping sweat from his brow, considering how much to reveal. The anticipation is oddly exhilarating.

???: Fair enough. I'm Matt.

You: Just Matt?

Matt: Well, Matthew, but nobody calls me that unless I'm in trouble.

You chuckle softly, the sound breaking the stillness of your room.

You: Y/N

Matt: I like that name. Suits you.

Matt's reply brings a faint smile to your lips, a small flicker of warmth in the otherwise chilly aftermath of your recent breakup. Though you know you’re young and attractive, allowing yourself to flirt with this random stranger feels like a gift to help heal from the heartbreak.

You: What do you mean by that?

Matt: It’s pretty.

His words strike a chord, echoing a sentiment you haven't felt in a while — someone noticing you beyond the surface, beyond the pain you carry. It’s refreshing, and you find yourself drawn to the conversation more than you expected.

You: You think I’m pretty?

And then you wait for his reply. And wait. And then, wait even more, lying back on your bed, your phone lying beside you as your arms have turned limp, and stay there until your eyelids get too heavy for your own good. ---

The next morning, you wake up with a frown already imprinted on your face. It's probably a bad idea, but getting a bit of attention and then losing it is tough, especially considering your last message. You sit up, the bed frame creaking as you look out the window. It's already the second week of December, and all the roofs visible from your downtown apartment are coated in snow. The Christmas season is starting to kick in, the only thing you can look forward to – you love Christmas.

That night, while lounging around your apartment and revising for your final exams, your phone buzzes. You pounce on it, hoping it's mystery Matt.

Matt: Shit, sorry. Had to finish up last night and was working all day.

You glare at the screen. What a lame excuse, you think. He didn’t even answer your question, and now he's claiming he worked all day. You toss your phone aside, giving him a taste of his own medicine. It works for a bit, but an hour later, another text comes through.

Matt: Wyd?

You roll your eyes, still irritated by his earlier silence. But curiosity and a hint of loneliness get the better of you, and you decide to respond, albeit with a touch of sarcasm.

You: The glamorous life of a student. Studying. What about you?

Matt's response comes almost immediately, as if he's been eagerly waiting.

Matt: Ah, finals season, huh? Not jealous of that.

You sigh, feeling conflicted. You want the attention but are still annoyed by his lack of response. Despite that, you find yourself typing back.

You: Well, good thing it’s not you then.

Matt: I’m sorry?

You: Were you actually at work?

Matt: Yeah? Why would I lie about that?

Your fingers hover over the keyboard, unsure of how to respond. Part of you wants to believe him, to give him the benefit of the doubt, but the other part is wary. Right as you’re about to type a response, a text from Matt comes through, replying to your text from the previous night.

Matt: Is this about this?

You: Sure, but you don’t have to spare my feelings. Come on, just lay it on me. It’s not you, it’s…

Matt: I was going to say yes.

You stare at Matt's message, slightly shocked. Maybe he wasn't ignoring you after all. His response is straightforward, almost vulnerable in a way that makes you pause.

You: Oh. Sorry, I guess I’m just stressed. And maybe a little attention-starved.

Matt: Any reason for that?

You consider how much you want to reveal to Matt. Despite the initial frustration, his directness appeals to you. Maybe it's the honesty or the fact that he seems genuinely interested, unlike your recent ex who struggled with communication.

You: Just dealing with some personal stuff. It's been a rough couple of weeks.

Matt's response is immediate, with a tone of understanding.

Matt: I get that. Breakup?

You pause, surprised at his insight. It's as if he can read between the lines of your texts.

You: Yeah, actually. Sorry for being so standoffish earlier.

Matt: Haha, I’m a strong guy, I can take it. Also, sorry about the breakup. They suck.

Five minutes later, another message comes through.

Matt: Not trying to be weird, but how old are you?

You: 21. You?

Matt: 23. I was just asking because I was going to offer to help you with the attention-starved thing. If you’ll have me?

You hesitate for a moment, unsure how to interpret Matt's offer. His straightforwardness is refreshing yet slightly intimidating. But something about his persistence intrigues you. After a brief pause, you decide to play along.

You: Hmm, are you suggesting you're good at providing attention?

Matt: I like to think so. At least, I try.

You can't help but smile at his response. There's a sincerity in his words that feels genuine, a stark contrast to your recent breakup.

You: What do you have in mind?

Matt: Well, I take from earlier that you like being complimented?

Your cheeks burn as his directness now feels endearing rather than abrupt. Despite your initial reservations, his straightforward approach is comforting. You decide to indulge him a bit.

You: Depends.

Matt: I think you have really nice eyes. Not much to go off of, so if I ask real nicely, will you send me more pictures of you?

You pause, considering Matt's request. His boldness is surprising and oddly appealing, especially given your recent emotional rollercoaster. You crave the distraction, the validation, and perhaps a connection that feels less complicated than your recent relationship.

You: Maybe. What do I get in return?

Matt: Compliments. And attention.

You: Wow, charming, aren’t you? Are you always this forward?

Matt: Only when I’m interested. And I’m definitely interested.

His words send a flutter through your chest, a mix of nerves and excitement. You find yourself smiling as you send him a picture of yourself at your birthday party from a few months ago, in a black bodycon dress and a tiara.

A few minutes pass before his response pops up, making your entire body heat up.

Matt: Permission to call you hot?

You laugh at his confidence. Matt's interest feels like a soothing balm for your wounded heart. The combination of his directness and warmth is intriguing, and a part of you wants to see where this could lead.

You: Permission granted.

Matt: You’re hot. Like, seriously. Wish I’d met you sooner.

You: You’re just trying to get into my pants, aren’t you?

Matt: Well, if you’d rather have a normal conversation with you, I will, gladly. But you wanted a distraction, right?

You: Maybe I do.

Matt: Then, how do you prefer to be distracted?

You: You might be on the right track.

Matt: Cool, I think I can handle that.

A few minutes pass before he texts again.

Matt: So… what are you wearing?

You: Seriously?

Matt: Haha, just kidding. Unless… you want to tell me?

You smirk at his cheekiness, feeling a playful spark ignite within you. The conversation has taken an unexpected turn, and the idea of engaging in a flirtatious exchange with Matt is both thrilling and liberating. You decide to play along.

You: Just a sweatshirt and flannel shorts. Nothing special, lol.

Matt: Doesn’t matter if it’s nothing special, bet you still look cute.

You: What about you?

Matt: Just sweatpants. Why? You wanna see?

You: Is there a problem with that?

Matt: Not at all. One sec.

A moment later, your phone buzzes with an incoming picture. You open it to see Matt standing in his bedroom, the camera angled to capture his athletic build. He’s shirtless, his sweatpants hanging low on his hips, revealing his defined muscles. The dim lighting casts shadows that accentuate his physique. Once again, you don't see his face, but his curls are frizzy and unruly this time.

You don’t respond for a while, simply ogling the photo.

Matt: Cat got your tongue?

You: No.

You start typing an explanation, an excuse, maybe even a confession that you definitely saved that photo, but he beats you.

Matt: Your turn.

You: You want my face or my body?

Matt: Whatever you’re comfortable with, I can work with.

With a deep breath, you angle your phone upwards, hiking up your shorts so the curve of your hip is visible. Your oversized sweater shows nothing, but above are your lips, curved in a small smile, with the frame cutting off right before your nose. The city lights are visible behind you in the window. You snap a photo and quickly send it.

Matt's response is immediate, a single word that makes your pulse quicken.

Matt: Damn.

You feel a surge of satisfaction mixed with nerves. It's exhilarating, this dance of teasing and flirtation, each message building upon the last. You are both exploring new territory, testing boundaries, and reveling in the mutual attraction.

You: Like what you see?

Matt: Very much so. But I want to see more.

Your heart races at his boldness. There's no denying the chemistry between you, the electric tension crackling through the phone screen. You hesitate for a moment, your mind racing with possibilities. Finally, you decide to indulge in the moment, letting go of the hurt from your recent breakup and embracing this new, exciting connection.

You lie down on your bed, holding the phone above you as you pull down your shorts until the waistband is around your hips. You roll up your sweater, exposing part of your torso, and your legs are mostly visible as well, cutting off at your feet. Your fingers tremble slightly as you snap another photo, the dim lighting in your room casting a soft glow over your skin. With a mix of nerves and excitement, you hit send before you can overthink it.

Matt: Fuck. You're stunning.

His response sends a thrill down your spine, a rush of validation and desire mingling with the lingering ache of your recent breakup. Yet, with Matt, it feels different — liberating, even empowering. But, you decide to tease him.

You: Wow, cold. My face isn’t even in that.

Matt: You’re right. Let me see that pretty face.

You decide to give him what he wants. You take another photo, this time showing your face but still with an element of playfulness. You angle the camera to capture a side profile, your sweater slightly off your shoulder, revealing a hint of skin. The soft lighting accentuates your features, and you smile subtly before hitting send.

Matt's reply is almost immediate.

Matt: Beautiful. Seriously. How far do you live from Calgary?

You: I’m in Calgary, actually. Why?

Matt: Me too. And I want you to come over.

You freeze, Matt’s proposition hanging in the air like a charged current. The idea of meeting him in person, after this electrifying exchange, both thrills and intimidates you. It’s a leap into the unknown, a step away from the safe cocoon of your apartment.

You: I don’t even know what you look like. Kind of weird, don’t you think?

Matt: Fair enough, I’ll hold off for now. I gotta bolt now though, early morning tomorrow.

You feel a mix of relief and disappointment at Matt's response. Part of you is grateful for the pause, giving you time to process everything that has just happened. The other part, however, is buzzing with anticipation, wondering what could happen next between you two.

You: Early morning plans? What do you have going on?

Matt: Just work stuff. I’ll text you later, okay?

You: Sure. Good luck with it.

Matt: Thanks. It was fun.

You stare at your phone screen, heart still pounding. Matt’s presence lingers in your room, his image imprinted in your mind. You can’t deny the chemistry, the attraction that crackles between you, but you decide not to respond. You have to keep him on his toes somehow, right? ***

One week later

The floors are sticky, even with your already wet boots from the snow outside against them as you walk into the bar. Some classic country music blasts as cowboy hats are tipped, giant belt buckles are moving, and beers are drunk. Many beers are drunk.

You shove your way through the sea of dancing bodies towards the bar, spotting a single empty worn-out barstool which you happily slide into. This specific bar has line dancing every weekend, but this Friday is their annual Christmas hoedown, which is basically just a fancy name for ‘get drunk in some maybe holiday themed western clothing and dance.’

You take a deep breath, inhaling the scent of beer, sweat, and a hint of pine from the Christmas decorations strewn about. The bar is a hive of activity, the kind that can either drown out your sorrows or amplify them, depending on your mood. Tonight, you're here for a distraction, and although you're alone, it's a way to escape the emotional rollercoaster that has been your life for the past few weeks.

Sliding onto the barstool, you wave at the bartender, a burly man with a Santa hat perched on his head. "Whiskey sour, please," you call out over the music. He nods and gets to work, mixing your drink with practiced ease.

As you wait, you can't help but scan the room, your eyes landing on groups of people laughing, talking, and dancing. It's comforting in a way, seeing others immersed in their own worlds, each person a small part of the larger tapestry of life. You sip your drink, the sharp tang of whiskey and lemon cutting through the haze of your thoughts.

"Hey there, mind if I join you?" a voice interrupts your musings. You turn to see a man with a friendly smile and an impressively large cowboy hat standing next to you, vaguely recognizing him, but not enough to put your finger on it.

You look the man up and down, not hesitating for long before replying, “You gonna buy me a drink?”

The man chuckles, tipping his hat back slightly to reveal a pair of twinkling blue eyes. "I guess I can manage that," he says with a grin. "What’ll it be?”

You raise an eyebrow, surprised at how easily you slip into the flirtation. "Whiskey sour."

He signals to the bartender, catching his attention immediately. “Another whiskey sour for the lady, and a beer for me.” As you wait, you take in his appearance more closely. He's tall, with broad shoulders and a rugged charm that fits perfectly in the country bar setting.

Soon enough, your drinks arrive, and as the handsome cowboy slides the drink towards you, you're already distracted by the hockey game on the TV. The Oilers are on tonight, and although you're a Calgary native, the Flames never really struck you like Edmonton did.

The cowboy seems to notice your distraction, glancing up at the screen to see what caught your attention. "Hockey fan?" he asks, leaning a bit closer to you, his voice cutting through the loud country music.

You nod, taking a sip of your drink. “Yeah, what about you?” you ask as the cowboy takes a seat beside you.

Handsome Cowboy leans his elbow on the counter, bringing his beer to his lips before meeting your eyes. "You could say I dabble," he offers.

You cock your head, confused but deciding to trudge on. “You got a name?”

The man’s eyes widen as he glances away for a moment, only coming back to meet your gaze with less confidence than he initially had. “Chucky. The name’s Chucky.”

You raise an eyebrow, taking another sip of your drink as you study the man once again. “Chucky? Like that possessed doll?”

Chucky chuckles at your remark, a deep, throaty sound that sends a flutter through your stomach, “Sure, you could say that,” he replies, tapping his fingers on the bar, “Hopefully not as creepy though.”

“Not creepy,” you start, looking back up at the TV, “Just not really my type.”

Chucky clutches his chest dramatically as he laughs, “Ouch, you wound me,” he says before gesturing to the TV, “Well, what if I told you my type isn’t a girl who’s an Oilers fan?”

You purse your lips, turning back to Chucky and crossing your arms. “What’s your type, then?” you question.

"I like a woman who enjoys being spoiled," Chucky says, his voice growing huskier. "Someone who loves the feel of strong hands on her body, who appreciates a man who knows how to treat her right."

You roll your eyes. “What a charmer,” you offer, although you’re stuck staring at him, your heart skipping a beat at his boldness. This conversation is moving fast, yet you find yourself unable to look away. "And you think you're that man?" you ask, arching an eyebrow in challenge.

Chucky leans in closer, his breath warm against your ear. "I know I am," he whispers, the confidence in his voice sending a shiver down your spine. "But that's something you'll have to discover for yourself."

He pulls away slightly, his crooked teeth formed into a knowing smile as he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. A flush creeps up your neck, your heartbeat quickening. The thrill of the exchange, the hint of danger in his confidence—it's a potent mix, drawing you in despite your better judgment. “How do I find out?” you breathe, your voice shaky.

Chucky's eyes sparkle with mischief as he leans back slightly, taking a slow sip of his beer before responding. The noise of the bar fades into the background as his gaze locks onto yours, his expression serious yet playful. “Oh, so I am your type?”

"I didn't say that," you reply with a smirk, keeping your tone light despite the heat rising in your cheeks. "But you seem awfully sure of yourself."

Chucky's smile widens, his eyes never leaving yours as he leans back against the bar, his posture relaxed yet undeniably confident. "I've been around long enough to know what I want," he admits, his voice low and gravelly. "And I know how to make sure a pretty girl like you enjoys herself."

Your breath hitches at his words, your heart continuing its erratic rhythm as you look into his eyes. Weirdly enough, you sort of feel a little guilty for replacing the mystery man on your phone, but that doesn’t even begin to overpower the strong attraction you feel for the man in front of you. “Can I take you up on that?” you ask.

Chucky's grin widens, clearly pleased with your response. He leans in closer, his voice dropping to a husky whisper that sends a shiver down your spine. "Oh, sweetheart, you've already taken me up on it by sitting here with me." His gaze flickers with a mixture of amusement and something deeper, more intense as if he knows exactly the effect he's having on you.

You swallow hard, your pulse racing as you meet his intense gaze. The noise of the bar seems to fade into the background, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of charged anticipation. Chucky reaches out, his hand brushing against yours on the bar top. His touch is electric, sending a jolt of awareness through you. “What d’ya say we dance?”

Your eyes widen as you look at his hand on top of yours, calloused fingertips brushing gentle circles. “I’m not really a good dancer,” you admit, your voice small.

Chucky chuckles softly, his thumb still lightly tracing patterns on the back of your hand. "Don't worry about that, darlin'. Ain't nobody here judging your dancing skills tonight." He leans closer, his voice a low murmur in your ear. "Just relax and let me lead."

You think it's weird he's talking like that even though his accent is city-like, but before you can protest or agree, he slides off the barstool with an easy grace, extending his hand towards you. The invitation hangs between you, laden with unspoken promises and the allure of something new and exciting. You hesitate for only a moment, then place your hand in his, feeling the warmth and strength of his grip.

As he leads you onto the dance floor, the crowd seems to part effortlessly, creating a small pocket of space just for the two of you. The music shifts to a slower tempo, a country ballad that echoes through the dimly lit bar. Chucky pulls you close, his other hand settling firmly at the small of your back, guiding you in gentle sways to the rhythm of the song. Despite your initial hesitation, you soon fall into sync with him, allowing yourself to be swept away by the rhythm and the warmth of his presence.

The other dancers around you blur into the background as you focus on Chucky's steady gaze, his blue eyes holding a magnetic intensity that sends a thrill through you. With each sway and turn, the space between you seems to shrink, the attraction between you palpable in the air.

As the song draws to a close, Chucky doesn't release you. Instead, he holds you even closer, his cheek brushing against yours as he whispers softly in your ear. "You're a natural," he murmurs, his voice sending a shiver down your spine.

You catch your breath at Chucky's whispered compliment, feeling a rush of warmth spread through you at his closeness. His breath against your ear sends a tingling sensation down your spine, and you can't deny the thrill of being held so intimately by this charming stranger. "Thank you," you manage to murmur back, your voice barely above a whisper. Despite the dim lighting and the pulsing music around you, it feels as if there are only the two of you in that moment, cocooned in your own private world.

Chucky's hand remains at the small of your back, his touch reassuring yet tinged with a subtle electricity that seems to ignite every nerve ending in your body. His presence is magnetic, drawing you closer with each passing second, and you find yourself unable to look away from his captivating blue eyes.

"I could dance with you all night," Chucky admits, his voice low and husky. He's about to say something else, only to suddenly stop and reach into the back pocket of his worn-out jeans, pulling out his buzzing phone while keeping an arm snaked around your waist. “Sorry, doll, I’ve gotta take this.”

Before you can protest or even get a word out, he has disappeared into the crowd, and your body is suddenly at a loss for his touch. You stand there for a moment, slightly dazed by Chucky's abrupt departure. The lingering warmth of his touch, his hand on your back, and the intoxicating thrill of the dance still pulse through you, leaving you with a mix of confusion and anticipation.

As you scan the crowded bar, you catch glimpses of familiar faces and strangers alike, each lost in their own conversations and revelries. The music continues to throb in the background, a steady rhythm that seems to echo the beat of your racing heart.

Time passes painfully slow as you wait, and wait, and wait.

Until he doesn’t come back. *** Another week later... It's two days before Christmas, Christmas Eve Eve as you and your family lovingly call it, and you find yourself alone. The cityscape outside your window is already cloaked in a soft blanket of snow, the streetlights casting a golden glow on the flakes as they drift lazily to the ground. It's already eight pm, a time when you'd typically not be alone. However, last year your loved ones decided to take a leap of faith and move an hour out of Calgary, so regular visits aren't really a thing anymore. But you're planning to make the drive out tomorrow and spend the night for Christmas.

You stand in your apartment, the sticky bits on the bottom of your fuzzy socks squeaking against the shiny hardwood floor as you look around the living area. You haven't told anybody yet, but you're moving as soon as your semester ends, transferring to Toronto where you'll finish school and hopefully live a new, better life. Although you love Calgary, lately everything around you radiates hurt. Boxes are strewn around, a messy scrawl in Sharpie on them identifying items from various rooms. The living room, once a cozy haven, now feels like a cardboard maze, each box a reminder of your impending departure.

With a sigh, you open the cabinet above your fridge, taking out a half-empty bottle of rosé that you bought earlier that week. It's a cheap, screw-top bottle, but admittedly you needed it to get you through all the stress of your exams. Now that they're over, you can finish it without worrying about waking up hungover. The bottle feels cool in your hand, a small comfort in the midst of your turmoil.

You take a wine glass out of a different cabinet and twist the cap once before your phone suddenly buzzes. You grab it, wondering who could be texting you at this time.

Matt: Hey, can I call you?

Your heart skips a beat as you read Matt's message. You've been talking to him non-stop, whether that just be texting, or calling, or sexting - every waking moment, besides when he had his weird work stints, you were talking to him. You hesitate for a moment, glancing around your half-packed apartment, the wine glass in your hand a stark reminder of your current solitude.

You: Sure, give me a sec.

Quickly setting the bottle of rosé and the glass on the counter, you walk over to the couch and settle in. You take a moment to steady your nerves, then press the call button when his name pops up on the screen.

The phone rings only once before he picks up. "Hey," Matt's voice comes through, warm and familiar.

"Hey," you reply, trying to keep your voice steady. "It's been a while."

"Yeah, sorry about that," he says, sounding genuinely apologetic. "What are you up to?"

Your eyes dart to the kitchen island where the bottle of wine is waiting, and then around at the chaotic mess of the room before responding, "Nothing in particular. You?"

Matt's chuckle comes through the line, a warm, comforting sound that makes you smile despite the mess around you. "Just chilling. Wanted to check up on you. Need any compliments yet?"

You chuckle softly, feeling warmth spread through you at his playful tone. "Maybe a few wouldn't hurt," you reply, leaning back into the couch and tucking your legs beneath you. "It's been a crazy week."

Matt's voice softens, taking on a teasing tone. "Well, I could start by saying that I still can't get over how gorgeous you looked in that photo you sent me. And if you're half as funny and smart in person as you are over text, then I'm in real trouble."

He pauses, and you hear a slight hum come from him. "Crazy good or crazy bad?" he continues, this time his voice carrying genuine concern.

"A bit of both," you admit, glancing around at the half-packed boxes. "Exams are over, but I'm in the middle of packing up my life. Moving to Toronto next semester."

There's a pause on the other end, and you wonder if you've shared too much too soon. "Wow, that's a big change," Matt finally says. "Why Toronto?"

You sigh, the weight of the decision pressing on you. "I just need a fresh start. Calgary's been... difficult lately. Too many memories, too much heartache. I think a change of scenery will do me good."

"I get that," Matt says softly. "Um, speaking of that, I was gonna ask whereabouts in Calgary you are?"

You hesitate for a moment, then decide to be honest. "I live near downtown, not too far from the river. Why?"

There's a brief pause on Matt's end, and you can almost hear him thinking. "You free right now?"

Your pulse quickens at Matt's unexpected question. The idea of meeting him in person, after all the teasing texts and late-night conversations, is both thrilling and nerve-wracking. "Yeah, I am, why?" you say, wanting to get a little more information out of him.

"Well," he starts, and you hear rustling on his end, "As much as I enjoy this anonymous text-flirting thing we've got going on, I would love to see you in person."

You furrow your eyebrows, wondering if this is going where you think it is. "And… do what?" you ask, deciding to be straightforward with him. "Like, hook up?"

"No!" Matt says quickly, almost panicked. "I-I mean, if you want to, I wouldn't mind," he concedes, his tone softer. "But I had something else in mind."

Your curiosity is piqued, and you lean forward slightly, eager to hear what Matt has in mind. "Oh? And what might that be?" you ask, a smile tugging at your lips.

Matt's voice softens, taking on a tone that is both sincere and slightly hesitant. "You got ice skates?"

You blink in surprise at Matt's question, the unexpected turn catching you off guard. Ice skates? You haven't been ice skating in ages, not since you were a kid. But there's something oddly charming about Matt's suggestion, a whimsical twist in contrast to the flirtatious banter you've shared so far.

"Uh, yeah, I think I have a pair somewhere," you reply, scanning your cluttered apartment mentally to remember where they might be buried. "Why do you ask?"

Matt's voice is shaky, almost nervous as he responds, "Well, I don't know how to convince you that I won't kill you, but I know a nice outdoor rink on the west side."

You find yourself grinning ear-to-ear, even though the concern of him maybe kidnapping you is in the back of your head. "Are you asking me on a date?" you say, your tone giddy from the smile that won't seem to fade off your face.

Matt chuckles nervously on the other end of the line, his voice slightly muffled as if he were pacing or moving around. "Yeah, I guess I am," he admits, his tone laced with a mix of excitement and uncertainty. "I mean, if you're up for it. Just thought it'd be nice to actually meet in person, you know?"

Your heart flutters at Matt's sincerity, the nervous edge in his voice endearing rather than off-putting. Despite the initial shock of his unexpected request, you find yourself warming to the idea of meeting him face-to-face. "Okay," you agree, "But I'm sharing my location with everyone in my immediate family, just in case you kidnap me."

Matt lets out a nervous huff of air. "And that's completely understandable!" he says, his voice cracking slightly. "I mean, who am I, really? I could totally be…" He trails off, and you hear a thud. "Fuck, you're kidding, aren't you?"

You chuckle softly at Matt's flustered response, finding his nervousness strangely endearing. "Relax, Matt," you reassure him, amusement evident in your voice. "I'm just messing with you. I trust you enough to meet up."

There's a moment of silence on the other end, followed by a relieved sigh from Matt. "Okay, good," he replies, his voice steadier now. "I promise I'm not a serial killer or anything. Just a guy who wants to take you ice skating." He pauses, seeming to debate something. "I can… pick you up if you want?"

You hesitate for a moment, weighing the offer in your mind. It's a bold move, letting him pick you up, especially since you haven't even seen his face yet. But something about Matt's voice, his nervous excitement mixed with genuine sincerity, makes you feel oddly reassured.

"Sure," you reply, trying to sound nonchalant despite the flutter of anticipation in your chest. "I'll send you my address."

After exchanging a few more logistical details and promising to text when you're ready, you end the call with Matt. Sitting back on your couch, you stare at your phone for a moment, the reality of what you've just agreed to sinking in. Meeting Matt in person feels like a leap into the unknown, a step away from the safe confines of text messages and phone calls.

With a mix of excitement and nerves, you head to your bedroom to find your ice skates. As you rummage through your closet, you can't help but smile at the thought of what the evening might bring. Ice skating under the stars with Matt—whether it turns out to be magical or not, it's definitely going to be memorable.

Finding your skates buried under a pile of old clothes, you pull them out and place them by the door. You quickly freshen up, change into something warmer, and glance at yourself in the mirror, wondering what Matt will think when he finally sees you in person. Your reflection shows a mix of anticipation and nervousness, your cheeks slightly flushed with the excitement of the evening ahead.

After a deep breath to steady your nerves, you grab your coat and keys and send a quick text to Matt that you're ready. By the time you hear a knock on your door later that evening, you're both nervous and eager. Opening the door, you're greeted by a man. A man with broad shoulders, frizzy brown curls, and dark blue eyes. A man that you've definitely met before.

You look up at him, your eyes wide. “Chucky?” you drawl out, your tone unsure.

Chucky/Matt (?) stands there in the doorway, a sheepish grin spreading across his face as he shifts his weight nervously from one foot to the other. His eyes meet yours, and for a moment, neither of you speaks. The realization slowly dawns on you – Matt is Chucky, the charming cowboy from the bar, the man who whisked you onto the dance floor and left you literally aching for his touch.

Matt shifts uncomfortably under your gaze, his sheepish grin faltering slightly. "Hey," he finally says, his voice a mixture of nerves and apology. "Surprise?"

You blink, trying to process the revelation. "You're Matt?" you ask, the realization sinking in. "You're Chucky?"

Matt nods slowly, his gaze never leaving yours. “Yeah, look, I probably should’ve been upfront,” he starts, leaning against your doorframe, “But when I saw you at the bar, I couldn’t help keeping the whole mystery thing going.”

You nod slowly, your mind racing with a mix of emotions. Part of you feels a bit betrayed by the secrecy, but another part can't deny the attraction and connection you've felt with Matt, both as Chucky and as himself. "I guess I understand," you say finally, your voice softening. "But why the cowboy persona?"

Matt chuckles nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't know, I guess I thought it added to the charm," he admits, looking somewhat sheepish. "Plus, it was fun to see where it would lead. Clearly, it led to this." He glances away for a moment, out towards the hallway before meeting your gaze again.

You furrow your brow as you stare at the man before you. Chucky was still a weird name to you, and Matt looked so much more casual than Chucky, even though they’re the same person—dressed in a hoodie and sweatpants with a warm winter coat on top. His curls stick out of the beanie he's wearing which reads ‘Calgary Flames Hockey Club’.

Matt gives you a nervous smile, clearly awaiting your reaction as you stare at the Calgary Flames logo on his beanie, then back at his face. It's surreal to see the man who swept you off your feet as Chucky now standing before you in casual attire, looking more like a regular guy than the charming cowboy from the bar. The pieces of the puzzle are falling into place, but there's still a lingering sense of disbelief.

"You're Matthew Tkachuk," you say slowly, more as a statement of realization than a question.

Matt raises his eyebrows, then nods. “Is that a bad thing?” he questions.

It isn’t, but you're in complete shock. "You're Matthew Tkachuk," you repeat, this time with a hint of disbelief and curiosity. "The hockey player?"

Matt nods again, his expression holding a hint of skepticism. “Yes? And, yeah, the reason why I left that night is because my agent needed to talk contract stuff with me.”

You take a step back, your mind racing. Matthew Tkachuk, the star winger for the Calgary Flames, stands before you, in the flesh, looking every bit like a regular guy out of his hockey gear. The realization sends a flurry of thoughts through your head—how could this be happening?

“There’s no way… I didn’t recognize you,” you murmur, looking up at him wide-eyed, “Didn’t I literally rave about the Oilers to you too?” You continue ranting, shifting your weight from foot to foot. “Holy shit, how much did I embarrass myself in front of a professional athlete?”

Matt cocks his head, “Embarrass yourself? Trust me, you’re doing just fine,” he starts, studying your face intently, “Can you promise me something, though?”

Matt's gentle reassurance and the warmth in his eyes help ease some of your embarrassment, though the shock of discovering his true identity still lingers. You take a deep breath, trying to regain your composure.

"What is it?" you ask cautiously, curious about what Matt could possibly want from you now.

He smiles softly, a hint of amusement flickering in his eyes. “Treat me like a normal guy? Let’s just have fun tonight. I’m not Matthew Tkachuk, hockey player, or Chucky, sexy cowboy, I’m just… Matt.”

You nod slowly, still processing the surreal turn of events. "Okay, Matt," you say, a small smile tugging at your lips. "Let's just have fun tonight."

Matt's smile widens, his relief palpable. "Great," he says warmly, stepping closer to you. "Ice skating under the stars, just two regular people enjoying each other's company." ---

The outdoor rink is serene when you arrive, bathed in the soft, ethereal glow of the overhead lights. The ice shimmers under the illumination, casting a magical reflection. As you lace up your skates, Matt's touch is gentle and reassuring as he helps adjust them. The crisp night air fills your lungs with each breath, carrying the scent of pine and fresh snow.

Once on the ice, Matt moves with effortless grace, gliding backward with a practiced ease that makes it look like he's dancing on the frozen surface. His beckoning smile is both inviting and encouraging, urging you to join him.

You laugh nervously, feeling the unfamiliar wobble beneath your feet as you find your balance. "I haven't done this in years," you admit, a mix of excitement and apprehension making your voice tremble slightly. Matt's grin widens as he skates closer, his eyes sparkling with a playful light. "Don't worry, I've got you," he assures you, holding out a steady hand. "Just take it slow and enjoy the glide."

You tentatively take Matt's hand, the warmth of his palm a comforting contrast to the chill in the air. His guidance is steady, and soon, you begin to relax into the rhythm of skating. The cold air brushes against your cheeks, crisp and invigorating, carrying the faint scent of winter and the promise of a memorable night.

Under the canopy of stars, the night feels almost enchanted. The soft swish of skates on ice echoes around you, blending harmoniously with the quiet whispers of the winter breeze. Matt leads you in gentle circles, his movements smooth and fluid, occasionally pulling you closer for a playful spin or to steady you whenever you stumble.

As you skate, you find yourself holding both of his hands, his touch both firm and gentle as he guides you backward. His gaze never leaves yours, creating an unspoken connection that makes you feel both vulnerable and safe. Matt pulls you gently into a spin, his hand firm and steady at your waist. For a moment, the world around you blurs, leaving only the sensation of movement and the comforting warmth of Matt's touch. The night air feels crisp against your cheeks, heightening your senses and adding to the enchantment of the moment.

"See? You've got the hang of it," Matt says with a grin, bringing you to a stop in the center of the rink. "You're a natural."

You laugh, a genuine smile spreading across your face. "Thanks to your expert coaching," you reply, teasing him lightly. "I never expected my evening to turn out like this. I mean, I was ready to drink half a bottle of wine on my own."

Matt chuckles, his eyes crinkling at the corners with amusement. "Neither did I," he admits, his tone earnest. "But I'm glad it did. It's nice to just... be myself for a change."

You nod in understanding, appreciating the vulnerability he shows in sharing that sentiment. "I can imagine," you say softly, leaning into him. "So, what's it like being a professional hockey player?"

Matt shrugs, his expression thoughtful. "It's a lot of pressure sometimes," he confesses. "But I love what I do. Hockey's been my passion since I was a kid."

“I get it,” you reply, your hands at the nape of his neck toying with the few stray curls, “Just keep being yourself, okay?”

Matt nods, and for a moment, all you can hear is his uneven breathing, the cool air making it visible. He swallows hard, not offering anything else as he just… looks at you. No words needed, just that look in his eyes, and you were set, although, you still probed him. “What is it?” you say, softly.

"I've been thinking about kissing you," Matt admits, his eyes still very much locked on yours, although they flicker to your mouth for a second. "I want to see if your lips are as soft as they look in your pictures."

Your heart skips a beat at Matt's confession, his words sending a rush of warmth through you. His gaze holds yours with an intensity that makes your breath catch in your throat. The quiet hum of the night around you seems to fade into the background, leaving only the anticipation of what could happen next.

"You do?" you reply softly, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness at the thought of kissing him. Despite the unexpected turn of events and Matt's celebrity status, there is an undeniable chemistry between you, a connection that has been building throughout the evening.

Matt nods slowly, his expression earnest yet tinged with a hint of uncertainty. "Yeah," he murmurs, his voice low and intimate. "If you're okay with it, of course."

A smile plays at your lips as you lean closer to him, closing the gap between you. "I think I'd like that," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

Without another word, Matt gently cups your face in his hands, his touch surprisingly tender. His lips meet yours in a soft, hesitant kiss, testing the waters. The sensation of his lips against yours sends a shiver down your spine, igniting a spark of desire that seems to pulse between you.

The kiss deepens as you respond eagerly, your hands finding their way to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your touch. Matt pulls you closer, his arms wrapping around you in a warm embrace as the world around you fades into the background.

Only when you feel a cool, wetness on your nose do you pull away, keeping Matt close and looking up to see that it had started snowing. The snowflakes float gently down around you, casting a magical aura over the quiet rink. Matt's arms remain around you, his gaze soft as he brushes a snowflake from your nose with a gentle smile.

"It's snowing," you murmur, feeling the cool touch of the flakes against your cheeks. The winter scene adds to the enchantment of the moment, making it feel like something out of a romantic movie.

Matt chuckles softly, his breath forming a small cloud in the chilly air. "Perfect timing," he replies, his voice low and warm. "It's like nature's way of adding a touch of magic to tonight."

You can't help but smile back at him, feeling a rush of warmth despite the cold around you. The kiss has deepened your connection, and now, standing in Matt's arms with snow falling around you, it feels like the world has slowed down just for the two of you.

As the snow continues to fall gently around you, Matt holds you close, his arms wrapped securely around your waist. The quiet intimacy of the moment is punctuated only by the soft rustling of snowflakes and the distant hum of the city beyond the rink. Time seems to stand still as you look up at him, his eyes reflecting the warmth and affection he feels.

"You know," Matt says softly, brushing a stray snowflake from your cheek, "I didn't expect tonight to turn out like this, but I'm really glad it did."

You smile up at him, feeling a surge of gratitude for the unexpected connection you have found. "Me too," you reply honestly, reaching up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "It's been... surprisingly wonderful."

Matt nods, his gaze lingering on your face. "I'm glad I got the chance to meet you," he admits, his voice tinged with sincerity. "Even if it started off a bit... unconventional."

You chuckle softly, remembering your initial encounter with "Chucky" at the bar, and the whole number neighbour gag. "Unconventional is one way to put it," you agree, your tone light. "But it definitely made for an interesting story."

Matt grins, the playful glint returning to his eyes. "A story I hope we can continue," he says, his fingers tracing patterns on your lower back. "Maybe without the mystery personas next time."

You lean into his touch, enjoying the warmth of his hands against your skin. "I'd like that," you reply softly, feeling a sense of comfort and ease in his presence. "No more secrets, just... us."

"Us," Matt repeats, his voice almost a whisper as he leans in closer. "I like the sound of that."

The snowfall around you intensifies slightly, creating a picturesque backdrop for the moment. You find yourself lost in Matt's eyes, the world around you fading away as he gently brushes his lips against yours once more. This time, the kiss is filled with a quiet tenderness, a silent promise of things yet to come.

When you finally pull away, a contented smile plays on your lips. Matt rests his forehead against yours, his arms still around you as if he never wants to let go.

“Us and the snow falling.” ***

EPILOGUE

You never ended up leaving Calgary. After your relationship grew with Matthew as the flowers grew in the spring, you found your love in the city again, not just with him, but with yourself, too. 

Eventually, Matthew got traded, to Florida of all places, and the first thing he did was ask you to come with him. At first, you were unsure - you didn’t want to leave your hometown. So, you guys tried long distance for a bit, just until you found your footing in creating your own small business, and eventually moved there with him. Miami brought a new chapter in your life, one that you wanted in the first place, but this time around, you were secure in yourself and your relationship.

And that’s how you found yourself right by the glass at Amerant Bank Arena. It was game seven of the Stanley Cup Final where your, now husband, Matthew, would play against your childhood team for the biggest honour in his sport. Gently, you held up your baby girl, adorning sound-isolating headphones, and of course, a tiny Tkachuk jersey against the glass as Matthew skated over during warmups. He leaned in close to the glass, pressing a gloved hand against it as he mouthed, "I love you" to both of you. Your daughter giggled, her eyes wide with excitement as she watched her dad, scruffy playoff beard and all, skate effortlessly on the ice. You couldn't help but smile, feeling a swell of pride and love for the man who had become not just your husband but your partner in every sense of the word.

The game was intense, and, admittedly, you wouldn’t really mind if the Oilers had won, but it was all eyes on Matthew and the Panthers as they gave it their all. 

Pandemonium erupted in the arena as the final buzzer sounded, and the Panthers had won. Players flooded onto the ice, celebrating their hard-earned victory. Amidst the sea of cheers and applause afterward, the families were let onto the ice, and Matthew made his way to where you stood, his eyes shining with happiness and disbelief.

He embraced you tightly, lifting your daughter into his arms as he kissed both of you, his heart overflowing with love and gratitude. "We did it," he whispered.

You smiled up at him, tears of joy in your eyes. "You did it," you corrected gently, knowing how much this moment meant to him and to your family. Because this was it. He was it.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Brinkwhump Linkdump

I'm on tour with my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me in TUCSON (Mar 9-10), then San Francisco (Mar 13), Anaheim, and more!

Once again, I find myself arriving at the weekend with a giant backlog of links, triggering a linkump, the 15th such dumpage, a variety-pack of miscellany for your weekend. Here's the previous editions:

https://pluralistic.net/tag/linkdump/

Let's start with the latest incredible news from KPMG, the accounting and auditing giant that is relied upon as a source of ground truth for a truly terrifying share of the world's economy. KPMG has a well-deserved reputation for incompetence and corruption. They first came on my radar in 2001 when they sent a legal threat to a blogger for linking to their website without permission:

https://memex.craphound.com/2001/12/05/reason-4332442-not-to-ask/

The actual link was to KPMG's corporate anthem, which remains, to this day, a banger:

https://web.archive.org/web/20040428063826/http://chkpt.zdnet.com/chkpt/uknewsita/http://anthems.zdnet.co.uk/anthems/kpmg.mp3

Don't miss the DJ remixes (and the Nokia ringtone!) that the internet thoughtfully provided when KPMG decided that it didn't want the world to know about "Our Vision of Global Strategy":

https://web.archive.org/web/20011128153057/http://corporateanthems.raettig.org/

Now all this is objectively very funny, a relic of the old, good internet from one of its moments of glory, but KPMG? They were already enshittifying, even in 2001, and the enshittification only intensified thereafter. Nearly every accounting scandal of the past quarter-century has KPMG in it somewhere, from con-artists selling exhausted oil fields to rubes:

https://www.desmog.com/2021/06/03/miller-energy-kpmg-auditors-oil-fraud/

To killer nursing homes that hire KPMG to audit its books – and to advise it on how to defeat safety audits and murder your grandma:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/09/dingo-babysitter/#maybe-the-dingos-ate-your-nan

They're the architects of Microsoft's tax-evasion plot:

https://www.propublica.org/article/the-irs-decided-to-get-tough-against-microsoft-microsoft-got-tougher

And they were behind Canada's dysfunctional covid contact-tracing app, which never worked, but generated tens of millions in billings to the government of Canada, who used KPMG to hire programmers at $1,500/day, plus KPMG's 30% commission:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/31/mckinsey-and-canada/#comment-dit-beltway-bandits-en-canadien

KPMG's most bizarre scandal is literally stranger than fiction. The company bribed SEC personnel help its own accountants cheat on ethics exams. The corrupt officials were then given high-paid jobs at KPMG:

https://www.nysscpa.org/news/publications/the-trusted-professional/article/sec-probe-finds-kpmg-auditors-cheating-on-training-exams-061819

I mean it when I say this is stranger than fiction. I included it as a plot-point in my new finance crime novel The Bezzle (now a national bestseller!), and multiple readers have written to me since the book came out a couple weeks ago to say that they thought I was straining their credulity by making up such an outrageous scandal:

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865878/thebezzle

But all of that is just scene-setting (and a gratuitous plug for my book) for the latest KPMG scandal, which is, possibly, the most KPMG scandal of all KPMG scandals. The Australian government hired KPMG to audit Paladin, a security contractor that oversees the asylum seekers the country locks up on one of its island gulags (yes, gulags, plural).

Ever since, Paladin has been the subject of a string of ghastly human rights scandals – the worst stuff imaginable, rape and torture and murder of adults and children. Paladin made AU423 million on this contract.

And here's the scandal: KPMG audited the wrong company. The Paladin that the Australia government paid KPMG to audit was based in Singapore. The Paladin that KPMG audited was a totally different company, based in Papua New Guinea, who already had a commercial relationship with KPMG. It was this colossal fuckup that led to the manifestly unfit Singaporean company getting nearly half a billion dollars in public funds:

https://www.theguardian.com/business/2024/feb/24/incredible-failure-kpmg-rejects-claims-it-assessed-the-wrong-company-before-423m-payment-to-paladin

KPMG denies this. KPMG denies everything, always. Like, they denied creating "power maps" of decision-makers in the Australian government to target with influence campaigns in order to win contracts like this one. Who knows, maybe, this one time, they're telling the truth? After all, the company whose employees gather to sing lyrics like these can't be all bad, right?

The time is now to lead the way, We share the same the idea That may win by the end of the day. Our strength is here to stay. Identity, one energy, One strategy, with sympathy. These are the words that will lead us into a new world.

https://everything2.com/title/KPMG+corporate+anthem

You may find it strange that I'm still carrying around the factoid that KPMG once threatened to crush a blogger for linking to its terrible corporate anthem, but that's just my "Memex Method," which helps me keep track of literally everything that seemed important to me through most of my adult life:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/05/09/the-memex-method/

One of my favorite quips from the very quotable Riley Quinn is that "leftists are cursed with object-permanence" – that is, we actually remember what just happened and use it to think about what's happening now. The Memex Method is object permanence for 20+ years worth of stuff. A lot of those deep archives never see use, but there's a surprising number of leading indicators buried in the stuff that happened in years gone by.

Take James Boyle's 2014, XKCD-style comic about the experience of driving a notional Apple car:

https://www.thepublicdomain.org/2014/11/07/apple-updates-a-comic/

Apple, it turns out, spent the next decade working on just such a car, and while that car has now been canceled, Boyle's comic correctly anticipates so much about the trajectory Apple's products took. It's uncannily accurate – real "don't invent the torment nexus"/"cyberpunk was a warning, not a suggestion" stuff:

https://knowyourmeme.com/memes/torment-nexus

But no matter how many times we insist that the torment nexus shouldn't be created, the boardrooms of end-stage capitalism continue to invent them. Take HP, the poster-child for enshittification, edging out even KPMG in the race to turn everything into a pile of shit. After years of tormenting people to punish them for wanting to print things, HP has announced a new service that so mustache-twirlingly evil that it lacks verisimilitude:

https://arstechnica.com/gadgets/2024/02/hp-wants-you-to-pay-up-to-36-month-to-rent-a-printer-that-it-monitors/

Here's the pitch: HP will sell you a printer that you don't own. In addition to paying a monthly fee for your ink – which you pay no matter whether you print or not – you will also pay a monthly fee just for having HP's printer on your premises. You are absolutely, positively forbidden from using third-party ink in this printer, and must use HP's own ink, which sells for about $10,000/gallon.

But while you aren't allowed to use this printer in ways that are bad for HP's shareholders, HP is absolutely free to use the printer in ways that are bad for you. When you click through the signup agreement, you grand HP permission to surveil every document you print – and your home wifi network more generally – and to sell that data to anyone and everyone.

What's more, HP reserves the right to discipline you with punitive credit-card charges if you disconnect this printer from the internet, on the basis that doing so makes it harder for them to spy on your printer.

I'm sorry, this is just more torment nexus shit, the kind of thing you'd expect to drop on Apr 1, not Feb 29, but I guess this is where we are. I can only conjecture as to whether HP's businesses strategists are directly taking direction from my novella "Unauthorized Bread," or whether they're learning about it second-hand from a KPMG consultant who converted it to Powerpoint form and charged $1,500/day for the work:

https://arstechnica.com/gaming/2020/01/unauthorized-bread-a-near-future-tale-of-refugees-and-sinister-iot-appliances/

All of this cartoonish villainry is the totally foreseeable consequence of a culture of impunity, in which companies like HP and KPMG can rob, cheat, steal (and sometimes even kill) without consequence. This impunity is so pervasive that the exceptions – where a rich criminal faces real consequences – become touchstones: Enron, Arthur Anderson, Theranos, and, of course, FTX.

FTX was arguably the largest-scale corporate crime in world history, stealing more than $10 billion dollars, mostly from rubes sucked in by hype and Superbowl ads. When news that FTX founder and owner Sam Bankman-Fried was convicted of fraud and was in for a lengthy prison sentence made a huge stir, because criminals like SBF usually walk away from the wreckage with their hands in their pockets, whistling a jaunty tune.

One of the very best commentators on cryptocurrency scams generally and FTX/SBF in particular is Molly White, whose Web3 is Going Just Great feed is utterly indispensable. White's newsletter, "Citation Needed," dives deep into the wrangle of SBF's sentencing:

https://www.citationneeded.news/issue-52/

Bankman-Fried's parents – prominent law professors at top law schools – helped brief the court this week on their son's punishment. According to them, SBF faces 100 years in prison, but should be sentenced to 5.5-6.5 years at the most. Why? Because he is a vegan, who is not greedy, and feels remorse, and cares for individuals (recall that SBF presented himself as the avatar of the batshit "effective altruism" philosophy while privately admitting that he used this as a smokescreen).

The most bizarre note in the 100-page filing is SBF's mother declaring that her son is an "angel of mercy," apparently unaware of the grisly meaning of that term:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Angel_of_mercy_(criminology)

America's prisons are a travesty and I wouldn't wish them on anyone, but that's not the argument SBF's parents are making; rather, they're arguing that their special boy doesn't deserve the treatment America metes out to poorer, less white people who merely steal hundreds or thousands of dollars. A crook who steals ten billion should be handled the way a casino handles a whale – with concierge service.

The problem is, there are so many of these remorseless, relentless crooks that there's no way we could scale up that white-glove treatment when we finally round 'em all up and make them pay. Writing for The American Prospect, Maureen Tkacik tells us about the ransomware attack that shut down America's pharmacy system last month:

https://prospect.org/health/2024-03-01-zoomer-hackers-shut-down-unitedhealthcare/

The attack brought down Change Healthcare, part of the monopolist Unitedhealth, which serves as the "pharmacy benefit manager" to a vast swathe of American pharmacies. PBM is one of those all-American finance scams, a middleman garlanded with performative complexity put there to make you feel stupid for asking why independent pharmacies all have to pay rent to this malicious, unaccountable – and now, manifestly incompetent – gang of crooks.

Tkacik's breakdown of this scam – and how it rendered Americans' ability to get the drugs they depend on to go on breathing – is characteristically brilliant. Tcacik is fast emerging as my favorite Explainer of Scams, a print version of John Oliver or Adam Conover. You may recall her work from my post last week on how private equity has taken a wrecking ball to America's hospitals:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/28/5000-bats/#charnel-house

I always try to finish these linkdumps with some upbeat news to carry you through the weekend, and this week brought two genuinely wonderful – and totally underreported – pieces of amazing news.

The first is that Starbucks has sued for peace in the war against its workers' unions. Hundreds of Starbucks stores have unionized in recent years, but not one of them had a contract. Instead, Starbucks had waged dirty war on their own workers, from denying gender-affirming care to unionized employees to simply shutting down whole stores after they voted to unionize:

https://www.cnbc.com/2022/06/14/starbucks-union-company-threatens-that-unionizing-could-jeopardize-gender-affirming-health-care.html

But the workers held fast and after years of this, Starbucks has caved, promising contracts for all unionized stores and an end to its campaign of terror against workers seeking to unionize more of its stores. In a postmortem for Jacobin, Eric Blanc rounds up "seven lessons from Starbucks workers' historic victory":

https://jacobin.com/2024/02/starbucks-sbwu-contract-bargaining/

This is the kind of listicle I can get behind. According to Blanc, the Starbucks unions won by deploying worker-to-worker organizing, a tactic that many of the new unions that are shaking up formerly impossible-to-organize jobsites are using (Blanc has a book about this coming from UC Press called "We Are the Union: How Worker-to-Worker Unionism Can Transform America," so he should know).

Other tactics that made the difference for Starbucks unions: new digital training and support tools and partnering with established unions for support and infrastructure. Blanc also calls out the success of "salting" – the venerable but largely disused tactic of union organizers applying for a job at a non-union shop in order to organize it.

Blanc also mentions government policy, including the outstanding work of NLRB general counsel Jennifer Abruzzo, a shrewd and committed tactician whose understanding of the technicalities of labor law have let her push for bold measures. For example, in Thrive Pet Care, Abruzzo is arguing that when a company refuses to bargain in good faith for a contract with its union, she can step in and order them to honor the terms of a contract at comparable unionized competitors until they produce a contract of their own:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/06/goons-ginks-and-company-finks/#if-blood-be-the-price-of-your-cursed-wealth

Abruzzo is one of several smart, competent tacticians in the Biden administration who are working to kneecap corporate power. Another is Rohit Chopra, chair of the Consumer Finance Protection Bureau, who just announced another bold, important initiative that will help Americans fight corporate corruption and get a fair deal:

https://prospect.org/economy/2024-03-01-public-option-credit-card-shopping/

Chopra is taking aim at credit-card comparison sites that purport to show you where you can get the best deal. If you're an affluent person who doesn't carry a balance, this might not matter to you, but if you're an average working stiff, high interest rates can gobble up a massive share of your paycheck. What's more, credit card margins are higher than they have ever been:

https://www.consumerfinance.gov/about-us/blog/credit-card-interest-rate-margins-at-all-time-high/

The most expensive credit cards come from the big, monopolistic banks, but you wouldn't know it from the leaderboards produced by Credit Karma, NerdWallet, LendingTree, and Bankrate. All of these sites take bribes from the big banks to list their credit cards above those offered by credit unions – who are typically 10% cheaper than the big banks' cards.

The new CFPB rule prohibits this fraudulent ranking, but the Bureau is going even further. They're using their administrative powers to force banks to report their rates to the Bureau, which will publish them on a publicly funded, neutral website – what David Dayen calls "a public option" for shopping for credit cards.

This policy makes a perfect bookend to the last CFPB initiative I wrote about here: a rule that forces banks to allow you to transfer your account to a rival with a couple of simple clicks, importing all your history, payees, and everything else you need to switch to a better bank:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/21/let-my-dollars-go/#personal-financial-data-rights

Combine that ease of switching with reliable information on which banks will give you the best deal and you get something that will directly transfer millions and millions of dollars from giant, wildly profitable banks to low-income people who've been tricked into paying them punitive interest rates.

So that's it, this week's linkdump. I promised you I'd end on a high note, and I did it. The world may be full of all kinds of terrible things, but workers and regulators are scoring big, muscular victories in battles where the stakes are real and important. Have a great weekend – we've earned it.

And remember!

The time is now to lead the way, We share the same the idea That may win by the end of the day. Our strength is here to stay. Identity, one energy, One strategy, with sympathy. These are the words that will lead us into a new world.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/03/02/macedoine/#the-public-option

Image: Stacy (modified) https://www.flickr.com/photos/notahipster/4402860361/

CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/

[slybluehologhost]

DRAMAtical Murder ＞ Sounds & Videos [JAST USA Release, 2021]

If it wasn't already obvious, I'm a pretty big fan of DMMd's music, as well as video game music in general. This section originally started out as containing strictly music files, but in order to differentiate this post from my -shape.memory.music- one, I decided to include all videos & sound effects from the game along with it. There's also a very small sampling of voice lines in here, since there was no way to feasibly host 47 whole folders worth of character dialogue, haha.

Package details & links are under the cut (along with a brief video description), or you can click here for a static page.

Sounds & Videos — [ L I N K ] ＞ MUSIC — Includes background music [29 MP3s], short & full versions of OP & ED songs [18 MP3s], "feel your noise" 8-bit ending [MP3 file], opening movie [.WMV file], & "AI CATCH" 8-bit ringtone [.M4R file] ＞ SOUND EFFECTS — Includes 542 sound effects [.OGG files] organized by category ＞ VIDEOS — Includes animated backgrounds & CGs [12 .WMV files], effects [16 .WMV files], Silent Oath gameplay [19 .WMV files], Rhyme transition [14 .WMV files], Scrap transition [21 .WMV files], & title screen [.WMV file] ＞ SELECT VOICE LINES — Includes a handful of voice lines that I enjoy [.OGG files]... sorry in advance if your fave isn't represented here, but please don't request more 🙇 ＞ These files contain spoilers for all routes — proceed with caution if you have not yet 100% completed the game

Looking for even more DMMd assets? ＞ [ L I N K ]

[Video Description: An introductory animation of Noiz's Rhyme field being generated following Aoba's initial ganking during the common route. Pixelized bunnies & cubes pop into place as the field is digitally constructed, with various whimsical noises playing as each asset appears.]

[itwashotwestayedinthewater]

personal fav track from my EP just released !! in 2021 i became obsessed with old phone ringtones and had to make something sampling almost only them. this is that: ringtone sfx 2-step

[k-evans-reads]

In Living Color

Chapter 2

Summary: When Natalie Marton, lead character designer for Buzz Lightyear, meets the voice of Buzz, Chris Evans, the sparks are undeniable. But when their work pushes them away from each other, both physically and emotionally, will the sheer differences between their worlds be enough to force them apart?

Pairing: Chris Evans x Pixar Animator OFC Natalie Marton

Word Count: 5,586

By: @k-evans-writes and @ourfinest-hour

We do NOT give permission for our works to be reuploaded, translated, or reposted on any other site. Our work is our own.

Warnings: None.

Previous | Main Masterlist | In Living Color Masterlist

February 2021

The shrill sound of Chris’ ringtone interrupted the song on the radio as he came to a stop at a red light. He sat up a little straighter when he read the name on his display screen and answered the call with a smile just as the light turned green. “Hey Ma,” he murmured, pulling through the interaction and checking his mirror before he merged into the left lane, just in time to see the Disney Studios sign a few blocks down.  

“Hi honey, are you in the middle of something?” 

“No, I’m just on my way to do some recording, what’s up?” 

“I just was on my way into the theater and wanted to call to see how you were,” Lisa told him, Chris smiling at the simple gesture. “I feel like it’s been a long time since we’ve actually gotten to catch up.” 

“I know, it has been,” he agreed. He’d missed her dearly since he flew out to California earlier in the month, preparing to spend a long time alone with just Dodger at his home here, and with Scott popping over whenever he got bored, until he left for Europe in May. He missed home. He missed waking up to a dusting of snow practically every day, the frigid temperatures almost demanding he stick to his usual rotations of sweaters to keep warm, and most of all, he missed his family. Sure, Scott was here, but it wasn’t the same as hopping in the car and just showing up at his mother's house unannounced, playing with Carly’s kids and hearing all the drama from their elementary and middle school lives, and seeing his sisters. He missed it all. “It’s honestly been such a hard adjustment going from seeing you guys everyday during the pandemic to now being back to my work schedule.” 

“Well we certainly miss having you and Scott around here all the time,” Lisa returned, and Chris knew she was being honest. He’d known that lockdown and quarantine periods had given Lisa the chance to finally have all her kids in the same place for an extended period of time, and with no projects looming over Chris and Scott. It was a blessing in disguise, one that he had to admit he enjoyed more than he thought, but eventually some semblance of reality came knocking at his door again. “The kids were just saying how much they loved having their uncles around.” 

“Ugh, Ma don’t tell me that. I’m having one of those days where I’m ready to just quit everything and go home,” he sighed, clenching his jaw and pressing his head back against the headrest just as he shifted into the turn lane, rolling to a stop at the intersection. The gate to the Burbank Studios was immediately to his right, and he watched carefully as traffic flew by him in the other lanes as he carefully navigated the turn. 

“You know it’s just one of your moods and by tomorrow you’ll be itching to go film,” Lisa told him, not unkindly and dismissively, but with the experience that came only by knowing Chris since the moment he was born. 

“Yeah…” he shrugged to himself, pausing as he parked the car and handed his ID and talking with the guard quickly before they opened the gate for him and he drove through, heading to the parking structure closest to the Pixar offices. He sighed as he thought about what his mother said, confessing to her, “I just feel… I don’t know… sometimes I'm a little lonely I guess.”

She hummed as she listened to him, pointing out, “I think some of that is normal when you went from being with us all, and living with Scott for almost a year and then back to regular life.” 

“You’re probably right,” he murmured, his voice low as his mind raced. “I think sometimes then I want to fill more of my time with new projects, but then I wonder if doing new projects is what’s keeping me from being able to find someone that I want to share my life with.” 

“What about Lindsey? Weren’t things going well with her after Christmas?” 

He all but cringed, remembering the short-lived relationship he’d attempted over the winter. “It fizzled. I just felt like, I don’t know, I was trying to make something work that wasn’t,” he shrugged, a blush settling on his cheeks.

“I think you need to just stop having your mind made up before you get into something,” Lisa told him with that experienced tone again, but there was a hint of well-meaning frustration and sympathy as well. “You know I love you honey, but sometimes you’re too much of a controller for your own good.” 

“Yeah, I think I’ve learned that the hard way,” he breathed, huffing out a short laugh as well.

“Just try to relax, Chris. Just let things happen the way they should,” she suggested. “You’re having an emotional day so try not to get into your head too much, okay?” 

“Okay, I will,” he told her, just as he pulled into a parking spot on the ground level of the garage, exchanging goodbyes with his mother before he hung up and turned the car off, grabbing his things before he opened the door and climbed out of the car. 

His head was down as he stepped around the car to the open front of the parking structure, crossing the short patch of grass to reach the sidewalk. His hands slid the key fob into his pocket, clicking the ‘lock’ button a few times before he shoved both hands in the pockets of his thin jacket. 

He could only hear the traffic outside the campus and the thoughts churning in his mind as he slowly got his bearings before he slowly walked towards the animation building, but he soon stopped in his tracks as a familiar voice said, “You’ve got to be kidding me.” 

“What?” He asked, turning and seeing the frowning face of the person he’d come to love spending time with in the past three weeks in Burbank. “Oh hi Nat, I didn’t expect to see you here.” 

Her frown only deepened as she descended the last few steps, Chris’ eyes catching on the various pens behind her ears and sticking out of her jumpsuit pockets with a smirk. “I do work here you know,” her voice was sarcastic as it brought him out of his thoughts, his eyes meeting hers as she stood in front of him with a smirk spreading across her lips. 

“You know what I mean, smartass,” he smirked back, instinctively reaching out to take her water bottle as she adjusted it uncomfortably between her ribs and her elbow. “I didn’t expect to see you in the garage.” 

As Chris silently offered to hold something else, Nat handed him her sketchbook. With her now-free arm, Nat reached up, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ears before she readjusted her tote strap on her shoulder just as she jutted her chin out, nodding towards the garage behind her as she murmured, “Well I wish I hadn’t seen you in the garage because now I know you drive a Tesla.” 

He raised an eyebrow at her as they slowly headed towards the animation building across the campus, adjusting the sage green water bottle between his hands as he held the sketchbook gently, careful to not ruin any of the sketches inside. “Is that what you mean by ‘you’ve got to be kidding me’?” 

Nat let out a laugh, her nose scrunching while she held onto the strap of her bag. “I can’t even look at you the same now that I know you drive that snob machine,” she muttered playfully, Chris laughing along with her easily. 

“Alright, hot wheels, what do you drive?” 

“Not a Tesla, I can tell you that.” 

He laughed again, not surprised at how easily she was able to make him do so. “At least it’s electric so it saves me on gas,” he pointed out, smirking as she bumped his shoulder with her own. 

Nat rolled her eyes dramatically, her hand waving in the air vaguely as she drawled, “Yeah because out of all the people in the world who need to save money, it’s you…” 

“Well maybe you’d make more money if you actually showed up to work on time.” 

“I was on time today, I just had to run back to my car because I forgot my bag,” she retorted, hefting the aforementioned accessory on her shoulder from where it had begun slipping down.

He hummed again in a manner of disbelief, Nat bumping his shoulder again and causing the pair to break into near-giggles at the action. Their laughter died down once Nat dug her Disney ID out of her bag, swiping them into the building and leading towards the elevator. “So where have you been the past couple days? I was surprised when you weren’t in the dailies.” 

“I was doing a daily meeting with the animation department instead to keep everything on track,” Nat explained, shrugging as she walked into the elevator and leaned against the wall. “I’ll be back in ours tomorrow so I can continue to derail the meetings as usual.” 

“Good because it’s a lot more entertaining when you’re there.” 

“Well I’ll be there tomorrow so I’ll see you then,” Nat grinned before it turned into a smirk just as the elevator doors opened, Nat taking the bottle and sketchbook from Chris before she turned to quickly head down the hall to her daily. 

He followed her out of the elevator, ready to watch her head into her meeting like the flurry of chaos he’d quickly come to realize followed Nat wherever she went, but something in him begged him to stop her. He spoke up, his voice loud enough to get her attention but not capture everyone else’s as he asked, “Oh wait, Nat, are you getting lunch?” 

She turned, her brows furrowed a bit as she glanced at the clock opposite her, laughing as she answered, “Considering it’s only nine-thirty, probably not.” 

“I’m meaning later, smartass,” Chris sighed, his shoulders relaxing at the teasing however. “I was going to grab lunch at the commissary later in case you want to join me.” 

“Wow you big Tesla-driving movie stars have time for lunch with the lowly animation employees?” 

“I think it’s more the other way around. You’re the one that’s in demand here, the only value I offer is talkin’ a lot.” 

“Well you do that spectacularly,” she smirked, stepping towards him a bit before she paused, still near enough to her final destination to not have to outright run soon, but far enough that he wished she was just a fraction of an inch closer. 

“Maybe I don’t want to have lunch with you after all…” 

“I could meet you for lunch around noon,” Nat offered, raising her eyebrows until he nodded, but quickly a smirk slid back onto her lips as she rolled her eyes. “I mean, I can’t leave you alone or all those single women will be fighting over a spot at the table with you.” 

The smile that was on Chris’ mouth seemed to linger as he watched Nat disappear down the hallway before he turned and went his own direction. At thirty-nine years of age, Chris felt like he’d been around the block and had met enough people to be fairly good at reading them, but there was something about Nat that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. 

He had always been drawn to funny people, loving to have a good laugh and bantering back and forth and thought that’s initially what had drawn him to Nat, making him feel so at ease with his new co-worker. Sure, that had helped, but then he had wondered if it was his interest and awe at what she did, being so enamored with her artistic talent but in the past three weeks he’d known her, he had figured out that wasn’t it either. There was something about her, something more. It wasn’t that she was funny, or talented, it was that there was more to her. There was so much depth and emotion behind her easy going laughter and charismatic demeanor. 

The more he’d gotten to know her, he’d seen the deep and raw emotions she shared when she talked. He’d seen her intelligence and hard work when she explained how to visually communicate something they discussed in their meetings. He’d seen her warmth when someone new came in and she immediately welcomed them into the group. She was so much more than what was simply seen on the surface and the more he got to know her, the more he wanted to keep diving in deeper with her. 

And those thoughts rang in his mind as he sat in the daily with Angus, curiously listening but silent as he observed the quick meeting before he headed to the next building, getting buzzed in by the security guards before he followed the familiar hallway into what had quickly become his “usual” recording studio, complete with Rob waiting for him, as always, in the chair in front of the various panels. Only this time, the curly-haired ball of chaos wasn’t cracking jokes and settling into her own seat, equipped with enough water and snacks to get her through three weeks of camping and every single colored pencil that was known to man. And he found himself disappointed she wasn’t there, distracting him at every move unintentionally, and as he realized that, he knew he was absolutely fucked. 

He found himself counting down the minutes until it was noon, grabbing himself a salad at the long bar of choices before he went to sit at a table tucked in the corner, his blue eyes looking around to try to spy those familiar curls. And although he knew time wasn’t moving quite as quickly as he perceived, every passing second without Nat, he found himself fearing that she’d – laughably, considering this wasn’t even a fuckin’ date – stand him up. She’d likely figure it was better to get ahead on the edits from the meeting, working through lunch at her desk, leaving him by himself, with no way to know. 

Chris’ leg was shaking nervously as he kept waiting, eyes darting around the room until he saw the tiny whirlwind come bursting through the doors. He watched her pull off her sunglasses, stopping and making a face when they got caught on her hair before she tugged it out and then tucked them in her giant tote bag. Chris watched as Nat ran a hand through her hair and looked around, her face lighting up with that gorgeous smile as she waved to him before hurrying over and plopping down in the empty chair with a thud. 

He raised a single brow, suppressing a laugh as he asked her sarcastically, “Are you ever on time?” 

“Nope, not even to my birth. I had to get evicted,” she shrugged, smirking back at him before she turned, digging around in her bag and pulling out her phone and wallet, resting them on the table in front of her.  

He let out a laugh at the unexpected answer, simply agreeing, “At least you're consistent.” 

“I admire your choice for lunch but I hope you know I’m eating carbs,” Nat told him, pointing a finger at the bowl of greens and vegetables in front of him, carefully picked to be within his pre-set meal plan for his upcoming film. “I need them today.” 

He nodded, reaching for his card and going to get up with her, asking, “What do you want? I’ll get it.” 

“No, no, you don’t need to. I don’t even know exactly what I want yet, I need to look and see what speaks to me,” she explained with a sheepish smile as she shrugged. “I’ll be right back.” 

Once again, Chris was left at the table alone with only his thoughts but every single one of them was filled with her. He didn’t mean to stare, but found his blue eyes following her as she walked over to the long bar of food, comically picking something up and heading toward the cashier only to stop, look at with a face of sudden disgust and go back to swap it for something else. 

Watching her was a chance to observe every thought going through her head, observing as she continued to make faces at each of the food choices before eventually getting a sandwich put on her tray, carrying it toward the cashier before stopping in her tracks and making a quick detour to the soft serve ice cream machine. Seeing it almost caused him to laugh out loud but he eventually did when he saw the ridiculously tall swirl she was creating. Hearing his laugh from across the bustling commissary made Nat turn her head from where she was, smiling widely like a proud child with their treat. 

It was then that the feeling of knowing that he was fucked yet again returned to his brain. He had realized that although he had spent a lot of time with her over the past three weeks of working together, this was the first time he’d seen her completely outside of work mode. She wasn’t focusing during a meeting, working on a sketch, or trying to get something done and there was just something about that which felt different to him. He saw that beautiful smile light up on her face just by hearing his laugh and if that didn’t do something to him, he didn’t know what did. Even her slightly baggy denim jumpsuit and boots that he swore would have looked tragic on anyone else seemed to hang so cutely on her frame and just somehow screamed Nat. She was so effortlessly attractive to him, and he didn’t quite understand how something as simple as her picking out her lunch had him so magnetized to her, but yet, here he was. So completely drawn to her in a way he’d never felt, especially not this hard in years, and in a way that almost scared him. He wanted to do it right, but he also had to be realistic. He barely knew anything about her outside of the fact that she worked here – and was fucking talented – and that she was friends with Mark and Jamie. There was likely no chance of anything happening, but it didn’t mean his brain understood that very realistic possibility when it screamed at him to be around her. 

Nat made her way back to the table, delicately balancing the soft serve and sandwich on her tray with a grin. Chris shook his head as she sat down, muttering, “I should have known you’re a dessert at lunch kind of girl.” 

“I’m a dessert anytime kind of girl,” Nat amended easily, handing a spoon to Chris. “I hate how fast this always melts though, you need to help me eat it.” 

He laughed as he took the spoon, confessing, “You’re not going to find me saying no to ice cream.” 

“Well get working on that side, it’s already dripping,” she instructed him as she picked up her own spoon, taking a swipe of the chocolate and vanilla soft serve. “I deserve this today.” 

His brows furrowed as he ate off his spoon, tilting his head. “Why’s that? Something wrong?” 

She shrugged, waving her hand dismissively and explaining, “We’re just behind where we should be and I can’t seem to light a fire under some of the other animators.” 

“Is that a common problem?” 

“Not usually. I think it’s just everyone getting used to being in-person again, it’ll take some adjustment. I feel like I’m still adjusting and I’ve been back longer than most people,” she admitted to Chris with a short laugh. 

He nodded, able to understand that exactly. Hell, it wasn’t just adults who were struggling with getting back to real life, his sister’s kids had all expressed similar feelings when they got back into the swing of the in-person school routines recently. “Were you in California during everything last year?” He asked as he took another swipe of ice cream from the bowl. 

“No I was in Seattle, that’s where I’m from,” she answered, putting her spoon down momentarily to take a sip from her water bottle.

“Oh really? I didn’t know that,” Chris sat back, watching her carefully. “Is your family there?” 

“Yeah they’re all still there,” she said, meeting his eyes with a smile.“I have two older sisters who both have kids so it was so great to spend so much uninterrupted time with them.” 

“You seem like you’re pretty close to them all.” 

“Oh I am. I miss them like crazy,” she admitted with a grin. “You’d think with being the single aunt, I'd be able to go up and see them more often but this keeps me pretty busy.” 

He couldn’t help but feel his ears perk up at her admission of being single, a little spark of hope inside him even though his logical brain reminded him how he still didn’t even hardly know her. His mother’s words came flooding back to him, reminding him that when he tried to control the situations they often didn’t go well, so he instead sat back in his chair, resting the spoon in the empty ice cream cup before grabbing the fork to dig into his salad and mentioned, “You seem to really love your job.” 

“I’m sure I feel the same about my job as you do about yours,” Nat smirked knowingly, winking at Chris as he blushed sheepishly at the harmless callout. “There’s days when you don’t want to go, when you feel burned out and exhausted. But then you see this beautiful piece of art and realize you were part of creating that…. That beautiful thing that might move someone to tears or they might talk about with their friends, or watch during a low moment in their life and then you realize just how lucky you are to get to be part of bringing that art to life.” 

Chris just kept sitting there as he looked at her, so moved by her words but more so by her ability to express her feelings and those beautiful emotions she felt so deeply. He loved just being able to sit and listen to her, to get to know her and the way she thought and felt as well as the little details of her life that he found so amusing like the fact she hated cats, wanted to be a ride operator for Space Mountain when she was a kid, and that she thought Iron Man was the best Avenger. Everything with her felt so natural and after so long of feeling like he was surrounded by social climbers or people who wanted something by being in proximity to him, Nat felt like a much needed breath of fresh air. 

The only time he had a frown the entire lunch was when Nat checked the time on her phone and told him she needed to get back to work but told him, “I shouldn’t have had that ice cream, I can already feel myself crashing.” 

“You should have gone with the strawberry instead of chocolate and vanilla,” he chuckled, leaning back in his seat once he finished poking at his salad, finally admitting defeat. “That one looked pretty good.” 

“Maybe if you’re around for lunch tomorrow we can try one then,” she offered as she wiped her lips with a napkin, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Sounds like a deal,” he nodded back, but quickly smirked. “Unless you almost ditch me like you did today.” 

She rolled her eyes, sighing as she muttered, “Oh please, I was only a few minutes late.” 

“Yeah but I had no idea where you were. You could have been ditching me,” he laughed as he remembered how many thoughts had taken center stage in his mind while he waited patiently for her to come to lunch earlier. “You better give me your number so I can make sure you’re on time tomorrow.” 

She stared at him for several long moments, almost weighing the options in her mind before she finally said, “Only if you swear you won’t start texting me the minute the clock strikes twelve.” 

“I will at 12:01, how about that?” 

“C’mon Chris, you should know by now you have to give at least until 12:05, if not 12:10,” she laughed, and the grin that made its way onto her lips threatened to also arrive on his as he watched her from across the table. 

“Alright, I’ll give you until 12:04 but that’s it,” he placated with a shake of his head, smiling as Nat pulled her phone out.

He watched as she tapped around on the screen a bit before she handed the phone to him, open to an empty contact for him to fill in. He did so silently, but before long she met his eyes from across the table and asked, “I’m going to regret giving you my number, aren’t I?” 

“Probably, but it’s too late now,” he shrugged with a loud laugh, smirking at her playfully.

Nat felt her foot softly tapping to the low beat of the music that hummed in the background of the outdoor bar. She was sitting hunched over a small round table with Mark on one side and James on the other while they all sipped their drinks, delving into the office gossip that had accumulated throughout the week and whatever other things they wanted to have time to fully talk about. It had been their Friday night tradition for years now and it was something they’d missed throughout the past year, but Nat felt so happy that they finally were here again huddled around a table while they animatedly talked. 

They were in the middle of sharing a round of loud laughs when Nat felt Mark’s elbow in her ribs, nudging her as he whispered, “Don’t look now but that guy over at that table keeps scanning you.” 

“Really?” Nat was surprised by the admission and had to ask, “Is he cute?” 

“Yeah and he’s coming over so act natural,” Mark whispered quickly before leaning back in his chair to make it less obvious they had been talking about him. 

She sat up a little, turning as she heard footsteps stop a few feet away. The man awkwardly waved from where he stood, distanced enough from them to be considered safe, but close enough that she could hear him over the music as he said, “Hi, I’m Calvin and I was just wondering if I could get you a drink.” 

With an apologetic smile sent to Calvin, she gently turned him down by saying, “That’s so nice of you to offer, but no thank you.” 

With a nod and a sheepish, embarrassed look, Calvin turned and headed back to his table, shaking his head as he reached his group of friends. Nat turned her attention back to her own table, taking a sip of her drink before she reached for more of the nachos sitting in the center. 

“Excuse me, did you really just turn him down?” Mark had to clarify with wide eyes. 

Nat just shrugged, tucking a piece of curly hair behind her ear, “Yeah, what’s the big deal?” 

“He was gorgeous, that’s the big deal,” Mark retorted, a single eyebrow raised at Nat. “Seriously though if you don’t want him, I’ll go get his number for myself.” 

“Seriously Nat, if you want to go over with him, you know we don’t care,” Jamie added, a slight smirk on his lips. 

She shook her head, placating them and responding, “No, I’m good.” 

“He’s been eyeing you all night, it might be a good opportunity.” 

“I’m just not interested tonight,” she brushed off, shrugging her shoulders again. 

“Wait, you’re not still upset about Shane the douchebag are you?” Jamie practically groaned before launching into his explanation, “Nat, him getting engaged so fast only shows it wasn’t right for you.” 

“No, no, it’s not that,” Nat scrunched her nose up in response. 

Silence fell over the small table before she saw Jamie lean back in his chair and exchange a look with Mark, the two of them seeming to having a silent conversation. It was driving Nat nuts that she had no idea what they were wordlessly discussing but once Jamie took a sip of his beer, he simply shrugged, “Maybe it has more to do with the guy who you had lunch with today,” 

“Chris?” Nat asked, almost incredulous with wide eyes. When the guys nodded and shrugged back, she rolled her eyes, sarcastically adding, “Yeah right, that’s totally it.” 

“C’mon Nat, we were having lunch at the same time and we saw you two. It was so obvious you guys were into each other. Even Katherine from the tech department made a comment about it,” Jamie couldn’t help but laugh. 

Before she could even refute them, Mark chimed in with a point of his finger, “And don’t think we haven’t noticed you staring at him during the dailies when you think nobody is looking.”

“Okay, so he’s pretty. So what? I’m pretty sure 98% of America thinks so too,” Nat wouldn’t deny that she’d noticed him on more than one occasion but noted that, “It’s not like it matters.” 

“Apparently it does if you’re turning down that guy over there with the way your love life has been,” Mark refuted her argument, raising his eyebrow as he noted, “You’ve been with what? One person since Shane?” 

“Barely.” 

“Exactly! So why aren’t you going over to that guy?” Jamie asked, his voice low so as to not draw attention despite his hands waving around wildly. 

“Because she’s saving herself for Captain America,” Mark said while lifting his beer to his lips once again, causing Jamie to burst out in laughter at the comment. 

She rolled her eyes and huffed, “Yeah because Chris Evans is just dying to get the weird Pixar artist into bed.” 

“Well if he doesn’t, he’s certainly giving a good impression because he was flirting with you like crazy,” she saw the way Jamie looked at her pointedly, telling her that he wasn’t just teasing her and actually meant the words he was saying. 

���In case you haven’t noticed, he flirts with literally everyone,” Nat pointed out just before she took a sip of her cocktail. 

Mark made an indistinguishable grunt while sipping at his drink, holding up a finger before putting his glass back down on the table and piped in, “Not true, he hasn’t flirted with me.” 

“That’s because he’s straight, Mark,” Jamie snickered. 

“I know and that’s truly a tragedy,” Mark shook his head comically, causing another round of laughter to break out around the table. "I tried shooting my shot with him when he would stop by the marvel offices, but Feige was quite the cockblock.” 

“And, you know, again… he’s straight,” Jamie reminded once again before motioning across the table, “And interested in Nat.”

“He’s not interested in me!” Nat insisted with an exasperated sigh, her jaw set tightly.

Jamie just shrugged, an annoying smirk on his lips before he went on, “Well even if he’s not, you’re interested in him.” 

“Yeah me and every other female around,” Nat muttered as she mindlessly adjusted the coaster underneath her drink before she dramatically slumped in her chair. “But that’s what almost is like, the worst part, because he’s such a great person. He’s so much fun and a really genuine person, not to mention a great person to talk to and yet everyone just likes him because he’s gorgeous. I think that’s so sad.” 

“Maybe you just need to show him there are girls out there who like him for who he is,” Mark was the one to point out honestly. 

Jamie laughed, shaking his head as he said, “Um with that drool that is coming out of her mouth every time she looks at him, I’m guessing he knows she likes him.” 

“Well in a couple weeks he’ll be done with his voice work so that’ll be the last we’ll see of him,” Nat knew that her words were painfully true, knowing that as much as she enjoyed spending time with him, it was going to end all too soon so she asked,  “So can we just drop it, please? 

“Alright well when you’re ready to move on from dreaming of Chris, we’ll be your wingmen and find you someone to get your mind off of him.” 

Nat had to laugh at Jamie’s comment which was solidified from a solid nod from Mark, and as they swiftly changed the subject to the latest happenings in Mark and Jamie’s personal lives, Nat knew that even though they were both in relationships, and Jamie had a kid, that these two were absolutely, without a doubt, her people. And while she was hesitant to reopen some doors, ones that had been locked away for nearly a year now, she couldn’t help but feel that something was coming her way, especially after how easy lunch felt, even with – as Mark would put it – Captain America.

[hit-song-showdown]

My favorite poll write-ups

Hello. So for each poll, I included a little blurb/ramble going into some historical or musical context behind each year. Most of these were written the day I posted them and some years didn't give me a lot to work with. But there were years that really gave me an opportunity to expand on areas of music history/business I'm truly passionate about.

So I decided to compile all of my favorite write-ups into one post.

1956: The rise of Elvis Presley and rock & roll on the Billboard charts

1959: The Grammy Awards vs Black music

1966: The Vietnam War effect on the pop charts

1970: The traumatic dawn of the new decade

1972: Cultural shifts in the 1970's and the last stretch of the Vietnam War

1973: Watergate, Philly soul, and the birth of hip-hop

1979: Disco Demolition Night and the death (and by "death" I mean "gentrification") of disco

1980: Punk rock, new wave, and the sudden end of the 1970's

1983: MTV vs Black music

1987: Tipper Gore and the Parents Music Resource Center vs rock music and the creation of the parental advisory label

1991: Nielsen SoundScan's effect on the Billboard charts, and the controversy of 2 Live Crew and Miami bass

1993: The birth of West Coast hip-hop and the coast wars

1999: Y2K and the MP3 breaches containment

2002: Nu metal's place in music marketing

2004: The South got something to say

2007: The controversy of "ringtone rap" and Auto-Tune

2008: Partying and pirating during the financial crisis

2009: Electropop and Auto-Tune's change in perception

2012: Psy was robbed

2013: The death of club music and the Blurred Lines lawsuit

2016: Streaming killed the MP3 star

2017: The mainstream rise of reggaeton in white America and the "monogenre"

2019: Old Town Road, TikTok, and the question of genre and marketing continues

2021: Covid-19's shadow over the pop charts

2022: The current state of pop music in a splintered musical landscape

[eric-the-bmo]

Blood and Silicon ep16 recap: Past Sins

[Summary: Leo informs the coterie of Percy's stay in the Territory, leading to an impromptu visit despite Blake's current sensory issues. We learn about the Week of Nightmares, a tour ensues, and a face Pauline recognizes introduces himself...] @sanguineasylum @kentuckycaverats @zwoelffarben

Dec 14, 2021.

Blake wakes up and everything is too loud and too much. He texts Leo asking him if he's free, piquing the Malkavian's curiosity by saying he wants to investigate Kyra's base (since she's dead, they can poke around), and they plan to meet up to drive there.

Leo had woken up and stared at the ceiling for a few minutes before leaving his apartment, finally replying to the text Cynthia had sent him earlier- he states he had figured it would best to use an alias when introducing himself to Yen, hence why he said his name was Michael.

Leo meets Blake at their normal spot- he notices Blake winces when the car door closes, and the music is turned down unusually low. The Malk asks if he's okay, and Blake says he's got a hangover- Leo, from experience, knows that's bullshit.

---

(Meanwhile, Percy wakes up in the bathtub of a motel room- he had chosen to sleep there, as there's no windows and no risk of getting burnt by the sun. He gets up, and lets out a world-weary sigh as he thinks about how far he's fallen.)

---

Blake and Leo head to Kyra's old place- an abandoned church- and go down into the side alley to break into the place through the windows. They enter, and Blake spots a tripwire- he notifies Leo about it, which is great because this man can't see shit without his phone flashlight. The tripwire is connected to a rope that leads upstairs to the tower of the church, almost like it wasn't tied to a trap but acted more of an alarm.

After disarming it, Blake and Leo begin to explore. The place is abandoned, of course, full of dust, and some of the stained-glass windows are boarded up. There are apple cores a few days old scattered about. A bible is on the lectern.

Blake slowly begins to head upstairs, while Leo approaches the lectern; he uses Sense the Unseen, first, to try and determine if it's safe to touch and open. It seems fine, so he opens it up to the bookmark— Matthew 12 1-37.

And then Leo's phone suddenly rings— Blake winces and glares at him as the Malkavian scrambles to answer it, with his ringtone set to the intro of a popular dnd podcast.

["Hello?" "Mr. Leo," says Percival. "I hope I'm not catching you at a bad time."]

Percy says he can call back later (he wishes to have a tour of the territory), and Leo says they can meet in an hour. He writes it down in his notebook as a reminder Blake wants to know what the fuck was that, you said you weren't busy, and Leo is all "...Okay so we might have someone staying at our territory." He explains Harrison had called him about the man they had met earlier-

["That guy? He's staying at our t-" Blake pauses, and puts a hand over his mouth.] He asks if Leo told Pauline about this- he didn't- and Blake looks pissed. He tells Leo to call Harrison and find out where Harrison is staying. It takes a moment for Harrison to answer- probably because this man keeps his phone in his desk drawer- and the Baron says to simply call Percy, and in the future only call this line for emergencies. Leo eventually finds out Percy is staying at a place called Dayspring Motel, some ways south of town. Blake begins to walk out of the church- Leo follows him, picking up on the fact Blake is going to head over right now, and he tries to convince him to chill out and wait the hour like he had promised Percival; Blake almost considers it before saying he's not mad, just disappointed, and continues to walk out the building- he's hurt by fact Leo didn't tell him. (Before Blake leaves through the window, he sets something discreet/hidden by the window; if he comes back later and sees it's disturbed, it's a sign someone else came in here.)

Blake texts Pauline: [Blake: Kid just informed me that we have a new guest on our lot. Going to give him a warm welcome. Could you make time tonight from your busy schedule? Pauline: Good evening, Mr. Moore. That sounds concerning. Yes - would you be able to give me a ride? Blake: Be there in 15. Pauline: Understood.]

It's a tense ride. Pauline enters, asking if they could tell her what happened. Blake looks at Leo to answer, and the fledgeling goes "Once again, I fucked up." He explains the gist, and Pauline frowns.

["Perhaps Harrison should've neglected to inform us himself."]

Blake lets Pauline know the kindred now staying on their territory is the one Leo had distracted the earlier night- and was the one Harrison had a meeting with earlier, and Pauline guesses Harrison wishes to keep a better eye on them. Leo admits he knows as much as they do about Percival, however he did overhear the Venture seems to be searching for something of his own volition. Blake comments that hopefully he won't stay long- this whole thing confirms his belief that no matter what Harrison says, their territory was never really theirs.

Leo calls Percy like "hey uh there's been a change of plans is it okay if we meet earlier?", and once that's over he puts his head in his hands (It's really similar to the shinji pose meme ngl). This man would rather be in torpor.

Pauline questions wtf they're even doing- first it was a Tremere, now this, and we don't even know this man's clan.

---

The trio finally arrives, and Percy is waiting outside. He's wearing a light blue buttoned shirt and a newscap. There's a simple silver ring on his right hand, and he has a gun hidden inside his grey suede coat.

There's a bit of a miscommunication error, as Percy was expecting to be given a tour first, but upon hearing they just want to get to know him first before taking him there he's like "yeah that's fair," and leads them to his motel room (room 212) so they can speak. Percy closes the door behind him and apologizes for the state of his affairs- it's temporary living. He gestures for them to sit- Blake doesn't- and asks what they'd like to talk about. Blake answers they'd like to know more about him. Percy says he's an open book.

He tells the trio his clan upon Pauline's questioning, and he looks vaguely disgusted as he says he's a Ventrue. Blake comments it explains why he's got a suit and asks why he's here.

["First," Percy begins, "May I turn a question towards you? It adds context, I assure you." "It's an open forum. Go ahead."

"July 1999- What do you recall of it?"]

Blake's eyes go dark, and he quietly says he knows more than he'd like to. Percy fiddles with his ring as he explains that in July of 1999, during the Week of Nightmares, he was closer to the Ravnos Antediluvian than he would've liked, and was knocked into torpor. Due to this he's curious about it all now that he's awake again, and wishes to look into Noddism- and he confirms his meeting with Harrison was partially about that, though it was mainly an introductory one.

Leo has some questions, but then Blake comments that it sounds like Percy won't be staying very long, since it seems he needs to collect some more knowledge- Percy says it really all depends on how much information his leads have to give him, and so there's no way to say how long he'll stay. Blake then asks why Harrison chose to put Percy on their territory, specifically.

["Mr. Leo's sire- he believes that he can help me out with my own research."

Blake nods. Ah- there it is. He turns to Leo. "How does that make you feel?"

Leo's gone entirely quiet. His hands have found each other to hold.]

Percy asks if he's alright- the Malkavian's hands unclasp, and he says he wasn't expecting his sire to be mentioned. Percy asks if Blake is done with his questions, and the thing is Percy's been very formal this whole time, so Blake asks him to drop the Mr when referring to him. Percy nods. Anyway Blake's all "so if you have any questions or want to do anything with the territory, please refer to us-" and gestures towards himself and Pauline. Blake is trying to come up with plans on how to extort Percival for money, and suggests the man pay rent- Percy says he can offer protection services, but sure he can pay too. There's discussion of a job hunt for Percy, and Blake hands the Venture his and Pauline's numbers.

Percy says he was promised a tour of the territory- Pauline reminds them all that Leo's got questions- and Blake says he can give Percy a ride. ["It's a quaint little spot," He tells him. "It's got a nice sports bar- They can make a mean margarita." "...Are you still capable of partaking?"]

The group eventually leaves the hotel and begins to head towards the territory; Leo starts his questions by asking what a Ravnos is, presuming it must be one of the clans.

Percy runs down the gist of Ravnos- they're wanderers, really- and Blake chimes in that they're good storytellers but bad company. Percy agrees and says the Ravnos he knew said the same thing. Leo scribbles down what he learns, and Blake adds that Ravnos could make people see illusions- which doesn't seem scary in theory, he mutters, but it's terrifying when cranked up to 11. Leo pauses, and takes note of the illusions.

Leo lets Percy know he's aware of what an Antediluvian is, and the Venture explains the Week of Nightmares; how the Ravnos Antediluvian woke up and decided to cannibalize its childer. He explains there were many things during that week: headaches, visions no one seemed to remember, etc.

Blake says that's not what he heard, and as Percy asks Blake what stories he's heard about the Week (mortals who had the sun in their hands, a disease running through the Ravnos, how something woke up, etc), Leo's eyes glaze over as he mentally goes somewhere else for a moment. Blake implies he's skeptical of the Antediluvians' existence, how something of such great power could just rise up and die like that- and Percy doesn't seem to be a big fan of this :-/ Leo blinks back to hear the tail-end of this.

Pauline asks Percy he views Harrison- it turns out Percival feels the Baron is further from humanity than those in this group, and though he respects the Baron he doesn't feel any particular positive emotion about him. Pauline and Blake secretly approves of this- Leo, however, is blood bound to Harrison, so he frowns at this comment.

Leo then brings up in the form of a question that Percy mentioned his sire? The Ventrue confirms this- he's a scholar that could help him learn more about Noddism, though Percy's heard he might not be among the living anymore. ["Well, to say he's not amongst the living will always be accurate, but- He's not amongst us anymore. Do you happen to know if he's still alive?"] Leo doesn't know what Noddism means- he assumes it's a vampiric thing, like everything else he's learned about- and he also winces. Percy takes note of that reaction, though he's unable to pin down why Leo did that.

Blake makes a joke(?) from the driver's seat about Percy applying for jobs to pay rent as they arrive at the Territory.

---

The trio gives Percy a tour of the territory; Pauline and Blake give a general warning to him about the church and its priest. Speaking of the church- as we get closer to it, we see a crowd of people exiting the building; service has just ended. Someone seems to recognize Pauline and starts to walk towards the coterie- and as always, Pauline's expression is indiscernible (But she knows who this is). As the man crosses the sidewalk towards the coterie, we all use Blush of Life to look human- and as all of my dice rolls thus far tonight, Leo fails and gains a point of hunger.

The figure gets closer- he's a priest.

Leo is suddenly filled with a sense of panic as his headache spikes; everything in him is screaming with the knowledge that the man walking towards them is a threat. It overrides his brain and he shouts, running away. It gets the attention of some of the crowd members. Pauline takes this as her cue to leave, and follows him.

[The priest furrows his brow in concern as Leo runs off. "Hello," he begins, "I was here to speak to one in your group, but... Is the boy alright?" "...He ain't the religious type."]

The priest says that's interesting, since he had seen the woman who went after him during his service a few nights ago, and hoping to introduce himself. Blake offers to pass on his intro, and so the priest holds out his hands and introduces himself as Father William. Blake introduces himself as Robin- Percy looks away from the Father, yet still introduces himself.

Father William hopes they can get Pauline to return to one of his services again- Blake comments she's busy a lot, and upon William's next question he tells the priest she works at a night club. The Father makes a comment about how even light can be found in darkness- she had some interest in God, seeing as how she showed up for a service. He then asks if the others will eventually attend; they politely decline.

----

Meanwhile, Leo turns the corner, running just a bit further. He's connecting the dots, and comes to the general conclusion that religion is Very Bad for vampires- especially priests.

Pauline finally catches up to Leo, saying that he can't just run off like that, and advises that they head back to the group. He explains that he felt the priest was dangerous- she agrees, but again you can't just run off! She asks if the priest had done anything to him, and he says it wasn't an external thing that had caused him to flee; it was more of a brain thing.

["...Leo, are you quite alright?" He pauses, and gives a small laugh, putting his head in his hands. "Oh, when have I ever?"]

---

Blake texts Pauline if she found Leo, and they agree to head elsewhere- on that doesn't have a lot of people- and meet up there, so that Leo isn't stressed out by a potential crowd. Percy asks if Leo was okay, and Blake says he's not sure, but this isn't the first time he did something like this, so it might be something he can't control. Percy nods. Blake comments they should continue the tour after they meet back up- he does a little dramatic bow as he goes "After you :-)" He continues to give a bit of the tour, pointing out the bar, the art museum, etc. (At one point Blake goes into a store and comes out with a job application, handing it to Percy for "just in case." Percy takes some glasses out of his pocket (he doesnt need them) and looks it over, commenting on Blake's dedication to the job joke.)

The Malkavians arrive, and Pauline asks what happens when she was gone- the two fill her in about Father William, and Blake says it was risky to visit without telling the coterie (Leo says nothing to avoid being hypocritical, but gives her a bit of a side-eye). Pauline admits she went to a service but didn't think it was worthy to mention; she apologizes, and mentions she probably won't go to another service.

["FYI," Blake adds. "I didn't explode when I shook the priest's hand. Just so you know."] The original trio briefly wonders if Father William is the guy Harrison had warned them about when they first received the territory- Blake finally asks why Leo ran off, and the Malk once-again gives the rundown that the Father is dangerous. Pauline suggests maybe she should keep on the down-low for a bit, implying she might not visit the territory a lot.

["Maybe you should take the clippers to your hair again," Blake says. Pauline lights a cigarette. "...Perhaps you're right."]

----

Notes/Commentary:

Finally, another night has gone,,, /lh

Leo's been a vampire for 90 days! 🎉

The other player and I began to go wild in the chat over how Blake seems to have unintentionally unlocked Heightened Senses!

[in regards to Blake and Leo texting] "Please know that Leo would not put the discord eyes emoji, but just know it's there in spirit" amazing quote from Past Bmo, thank you

Leo types So Sketchy btw.

We all began to focus on the apple cores tbh. wtf is up with that we're So gonna check those out later

I can't help but wonder if the verses that Bible was open to has any lore significance? Foreshadowing, perhaps?? Or am I reading too into that?

If anyone's curious, Leo's ringtone is specifically the intro to TAZ:Balance ⭐

NOOO NOT THE DISSAPOINTED LINE THAT DADS USE-

Love how some of my only notes for this session was "Leo fucks up. Shinji pose," everything this man's been through has been his own goddamn fault

my boy is so stupid

Love Pauline sm. "hey guys what the fuck are we even doing at this point" The ST plays her So Well

Percy's player had a whole written dialogue prepared for describing his outift and every time he does something like this I'm blown away. So cool,,, decided to describe his outfit there bc of it

Shoutout to the moment the ST and I decided to spontaneously sing that one pina colada song

It's so funny that Leo doesn't know some of the clans and YET he knows what Antediluvians are. (Wonderful job telling your childe information there, J... /sar)

Hey yall. The Week of Nightmares caused headaches and weird visions. Ik Leo is a Malk so visions are normal for them, but... Have we considered some weird Antediluvian shit is going on with him?

Blake's player: Man I miss Pauline :-( ST: Dude she is RIGHT THERE-

I roll to see what Noddism is/if Leo recognizes that. Nothing. I roll 5 other dice for some reason bc the ST told me to- also nothing. /lh

//sobbing the dice HATE ME- (i've declared a Gehenna War upon the dice gods btw)

FATHER WILLIAM-

"Leo's going to run to... an alleyway." "An alleyway?!" "Yeah because nothing bad has ever happened to him in an alleyway" /silly

Leo realizes for the second time in his life that god sucks, more at 11-

Love how Percy contributed to the bit by pulling out reading glasses. Sir you don't need those

This was the first session I recorded hooray! Hence why there's so much more quote bits yayy

Anyway. im very tired gn yall

[silvergyus]

top 5 txt title tracks

1.) 0X1=LOVESONG

the song that got me into txt!! I legit dunno that I would've gotten as deep into kpop if I hadn't heard this song! came out like 3 weeks before I got into txt and is my everything. every time I've seen them live I'm never emotionally prepared to hear it. literally one of the best songs of all time

2.) LO$ER=LO♡ER

my first ever comeback 🥰 will always have the nostalgia factor for me. plus screaming "I'M A LOSER" in a room full of moas is the best thing ever. also kai was so so close to me for this song at my last show and it was life changing

3.) Runaway

I listened to this song so much in 2021 it was a serious problem. stopped listening to it for a while because I had listened to it *that much* but listened to it with headphones a couple months ago and fell back down the rabbit hole. I love this song so much

4.) Crown

my ringtone! I love the beeps and I love that they're a reoccurring thing with txt

5.) Deja Vu

I think this might narrowly beat out Sugar Rush Ride but I love singing this one. this whole album was so good

[kopawz]

i remembered i had a bunch of "concept art" from an object show idea i had but never actually intend on making, just making stuff up for fun

i was gonna call it "time is objective", a silly little band of time travelers try and figure out what caused a zombie outbreak, and see if they could fix it? (obviously not, but kudos to them for trying)

drawings and stuff in the keep reading

the main fellas

some more fellas from briefly visited timelines

dr. spraybottle and her weird chimeras

the concept of time travel itself 👍 and nunya things <3

aaaaand what their time machines would have looked like and their ringtones 👍👍👍

no i dont intend on making it but it's also been in my folder since 2021 so 👍

[nightsidewrestling]

D.U.D.E Bios: Isidore Herbert (2021)

The Brother of Eli Isidore Herbert

The Brother of Elinor and Jade, and son of Frank and Giselle. A college student with a love for comedy, he wants to one day become a comedian.

“You would not believe how hard comedy can be sometimes.”

Name

Full Legal Name: Isidore Ghislain Herbert

First Name: Isidore

Meaning: From the Greek name ‘Isidoros’ meaning 'Gift of Isis’, derived from the name of the Egyptian goddess Isis combined with Greek 'Doron’ meaning 'GIft’.

Pronunciation: EE-ZEE-DAWR

Origin: English, French, Georgian, Jewish

Middle Name: Ghislain

Meaning: French form of 'Gislenus’, a Latinized form of the Germanic name 'Gislin’, derived from the element 'Gisal’ meaning 'Hostage’ or 'Pledge’.

Pronunciation: GEE_LEHN / ZHEES-LEHN

Origin: French

Surname: Herbert

Meaning: Derived from the male given name 'Herbert’, which is derived from the Old German elements 'Heri’ 'Army’ and 'Beraht’ 'Bright’.

Pronunciation: EHR-BEHR

Origin: English, German, French

Alias: None

Reason: None

Nicknames: None

Titles: Mr

Characteristics

Age: 19

Gender: Male. He/Him Pronouns

Race: Human

Nationality: French-Canadian

Ethnicity: White

Birth Date: October 25th 2002

Symbols: None

Sexuality: Straight

Religion: Jewish

Native Language: French

Spoken Languages: French, English, Hebrew

Relationship Status: Married

Astrological Sign: Scorpio

Theme Song (Ringtone On Eli’s Phone): 'Carmen’ - Stromae

Voice Actor: Ryan Reynolds

Geographical Characteristics

Birthplace: Montreal, Québec, Canada

Current Location: Montreal, Québec, Canada

Hometown: Montreal, Québec, Canada

Appearance

Appearance

Height: 5'8" / 172 cm

Weight: 140 lbs / 63 kg

Eye Colour: Brown

Hair Colour: Blonde

Hair Dye: None

Body Hair: N/A

Facial Hair: N/A

Tattoos: (As of Jan 2020) None

Piercings: Ear Lobe (Both)

Scars: None

Health and Fitness

Allergies: Bee and wasp stings

Alcoholic, Smoker, Drug User: Social Drinker

Illnesses/Disorders: Asthma

Medications: Inhaler and EpiPens

Any Specific Diet: None

Relationships

Allies: N/A

Enemies: N/A

Friends: Earl May, Wassily Volkov, Napier Rhydderch, Odin Rhydderch, Gabriel O'Hannigan, Zayden O'Hannegan, Pacey Rhydderch, Zechariah Rhydderch, Eadberht Rhydderch

Colleagues: N/A

Rivals: None

Closest Confidant: Frank Herbert

Mentor: Frank Herbert

Significant Other: None

Previous Partners: None of Note

Parents: Frank Herbert (43, Father), Giselle Herbert (43, Mother, Née Granger)

Parents-In-Law: None

Siblings: Elinor Herbert (22, Sister), Jade Herbert (16, Sister)

Siblings-In-Law: None

Nieces & Nephews: None

Children: None

Children-In-Law: None

Grandkids: None

Great Grandkids: None

Wrestling

Billed From: None

Trainer: None

Managers: None

Wrestlers Managed: N/A

Debut: N/A

Debut Match: N/A

Retired: N/A

Retirement Match: N/A

Wrestling Style: N/A

Stables: N/A

Teams: N/A

Regular Moves: N/A

Finishers: N/A

Refers To Fans As: N/A

Extras

Trivia: Nothing of Note

[trashexplorer]

BLCD Review: Smoky Nectar

Title: Smoky Nectar (スモーキーネクター)

Author/Artist: Minazuki Akira

Release Date: 2021/07/14

Cast: 

Satou Takuya x Enoki Junya

Komatsu Shouhei

Muro Genki

Taito Ban

Tsuchida Reo

Hasegawa Ikumi

Sugiyama Riho

Kobayashi Kousuke

Okada Sachiko

Kida Tasuku

Synopsis: Writer Hasegawa Mitsuru has been investigating a case that was rumored to be the work of vampires known as “Biters”. His childhood friend, Annaka Yuusei, a.k.a. Anna, warns him not to stick his head into where it doesn’t belong.

Review Proper

Just something about this is weird. The manga’s pretty fluid on its own, but it’s kinda, uhh, choppy? in the BLCD. Although I’m not sure if Smoky Nectar’s a serious manga with some comedy here and there, 50:50 serious and comedy, or is a comedy with some serious moments... it kinda doesn’t work in the BLCD. I mean, SatoTaku and Junya did well during the serious parts, but they seem to stumble during the comedy or the parts that lead to the comedic moments. Maybe the comedy just doesn’t transition well into the audio adaptation. *shrugs*

Let’s jump straight into the voice work, shall we?

I was quite interested in listening to this ‘cause yo??? Juujin bottoms??? If Daath and Kai were in these tones in Kemonohito, I would ship them 100% lmao, but then, uhh, idk, Junya was kind of a mess here. We’ll get to SatoTaku later, but I feel like they didn’t record this together. I do not like how Junya drags his moans on during their bedroom Redcross donations because he sounds very out of sync with SatoTaku’s ministrations (this is only very obvious in the first, though). I think he also has a hard time expressing the deadpan humor Mitsuru has. Sometimes my mind wanders off and starts having thoughts of either Reio, Ban, or Shouhei potentially being a better option for Mitsuru. That might just be my other issue with Junya. He was a bit too low for Mitsuru. I feel like if he was in a higher register, then he would’ve been able to express Mitsuru’s feelings better.

Now, as for SatoTaku, the man wasn’t free of my suspicions either. SatoTaku was a little too smooth to match Anna’s equally deadpan humor. I’m not saying that SatoTaku can’t comedy ‘cause sis you’ve heard Sonna ni, right??? But as compared to Anna, Shinobu’s more dynamic a character. Niyama and Ginger also gave the cast time to prepare before a big change in moods. Huh, I’m starting to think that this is the same thing that went down in Takasaki Bosco’s Torokeru Kuchibiru. I feel like Makonyan or Ono Yuuki would’ve done this better. But I know, I FUCKING KNOW, why Fifth Avenue got SatoTaku for this.

Thanks to Fifth Avenue, I know have my ringtone set to SatoTaku saying “erro” in the Mini Drama on repeat.

Goddamn I fucking flatlined on that one. I wasn’t really expecting much from the Mini Dramas, so thanks. 👍

Anyway, I also have to say that the sound effects as well as the bgms suck balls lmao. FIFTH AVENUE PLS. The main piano bgm also starts and ends in random places. There was also this part where Anna jumps off from a fucking building to the floor on the ground, making a table flip. Like we all know how a table sounds like flipped, right??? It definitely won’t sound like a chair shaking! 😂 I don’t think Fifth Avenue even cared at that point. 

This was actually a pretty decent adaptation despite the many issues I have with it. It’s pretty faithful to the manga too, although I would recommend reading the manga once before ‘cause you wouldn’t know what they were doing in real time without the visual cues. This is an action bl too, after all. If you’re looking for another vampire (the “biter” thing also threw me off a bit, but the “nectar” concept wouldn’t survive without ig) bl, I raise you Yuri Azuru’s Fujitsu de Fumou na Koi no Kami-kon starring Okitsu and Egu. That one’s a little disappointing on the action front, but it was a good vampire bl nontheless. Okitsu’s Lark was also a good comedic/spontaneous type, so that’s good vampire + comedy! 

[gaykey]

I find it super interesting that a lot of older shawols dislike DCM! I've been a shawol since lucifer came out, but fell away from kpop for a while in 2019ish, and only came back in full force towards the end of 2021 (a friend showed me christmas evel by skz, and I pretty much blacked out and woke up months later covered in skz merch like 'uuuuh') as a result, I saw everything for dcm out of order - I saw the mv first, heard the album and saw the teasers/concept stuff way later.... and I super love the song? like its one of my firm favs? 😂 I loved that at a time where some other 2nd and 3rd bands were doing slightly nostalgic or maybe wistful songs, shinee was out here doing a song with a very 4th sound like 'oh you thought maybe we'd fade out? no we can do a song that's utterly not us but still make it sound good, we're out here at studio choom singing live just because, we've got the visuals, the dance, the vocals, the heart and the charisma' like I hope for the next album the main song does have a more shinee feel, but I love DCM for the power it feels like it has. (also it makes a really good ringtone for phonecall hating millenials like myself lmao)

yeah, i can see how seeing the teasers last can change hiw you view dcm - but no, i agree with you in regards to how shinee approached dcm.

you're right, they could have easily done something more lowkey or 'shinee-like' but no, they didn't do that, and instead chosento stand out during a time when 2nd gen groups were few and far between, after being away from the industry for 2 and a half years.

that's an achievement in itself.

like i've said in prev anons - i applause shinee for what they did with dcm, even if the songs not for me.

[the-light-finds-its-way]

I posted 2,703 times in 2022

That's 682 more posts than 2021!

806 posts created (30%)

1,897 posts reblogged (70%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@thetruenightzedge

@the-light-finds-its-way

@crowsimp

@dredgen-honey

@guardian-down

I tagged 2,624 of my posts in 2022

Only 3% of my posts had no tags

#art - 1,048 posts

#d2 - 864 posts

#funny - 471 posts

#osiris - 264 posts

#saint 14 - 264 posts

#crow - 179 posts

#lord saladin - 165 posts

#o14 - 164 posts

#mun is a titan - 163 posts

#guardians - 149 posts

Longest Tag: 120 characters

#also i assume gymnastics works like mma in that there are lower and advanced classes?? idk i never did gymnastics myself

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

See the full post

200 notes - Posted October 11, 2022

#4

I wanna hug an Eliksni so bad.

201 notes - Posted September 21, 2022

#3

Bungie, thank you for not killing the gays. Honestly. As a gay man, I watch so many characters die, and be separated from their lovers, but you literally said, "No, these two will rip apart time and space, defy life and death, go through Light and Dark, just to stay together." And you FUCKING MEANT IT!!!!!! You have positive gay representation, and it means the ENTIRE WORLD to me, you have no idea. I sobbed seeing it today. Literally sat in front of my cat, and sobbed, and he wondered the the hell was wrong with me, but I looked at him and smiled. And he knew it was ok. And I was ok. Because Saint-14 and Osiris are ok. Thank you for giving us our lovers. We love you, Bungie. <3

424 notes - Posted November 29, 2022

#2

Here’s the video. Go to Youtube to MP3, or download it through Tumblr if you’re on desktop, and make it your ringtone. You’ll thank me later.

798 notes - Posted January 20, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I stand with Bungie, and people's rights!!

See the full post

1,484 notes - Posted May 4, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →