#they’ve got me commuting into the city every day for no fucking reason

[mirandahamilton]

just an update now that i’m working my dream job: it’s cool but i hate my fucking life!!!!!!!

[subwalls]

WHUMPTOBER 2021 - 4/30

No. 4 - TRUST FALL “Do you trust me?” | taken hostage | pushed

Also available on AO3!

 Sapnap’s day starts off with his shitty apartment flooding ankle-deep in unidentifiable monsterly fluids, which sucks.

 It’s not as dangerous as that one time the whole building came alive and tried to eat its residents, but it’s definitely messier, which is arguably worse.

 This is the kind of thing most people usually take as a sign from the universe that they should go over to a friend’s place and sulk for the rest of the day. Anyone who’s survived more than a week in this clusterfuck of a city knows to trust their instincts on that—which usually means getting the hell out of dodge.

 Unfortunately, Sapnap has kind of garbage instincts.

 Oh, they’re fantastic at keeping him alive, sure. He’s coming up on his one-year anniversary of being here, and he’ll definitely be celebrating that at one of those dubiously legal and definitely non-human bars, but the fact that he’s      still     here, squelching through monster goop and all…

 Sapnap wrinkles his nose as he sidesteps the still-twitching corpse in the lobby. Some idiot with an organ graft from the End, probably, which explains the goop seeping into everything. Shouldn’t the drawbacks of End tissue be common knowledge by know? Specifically the fact that it implodes at the first hint of water?

 Most apartment complexes these days have sprinklers installed on the doorstep for the explicit purpose of enforcing their dumb Huma-only policies.

 Sapnap, with his Netherborn lungs, counts himself lucky. He looks Huma,      is    legally Huma, and can hold his breath when the sprinkler douses him. So his landlord’s none the wiser.

 Probably.

 Eh, if he was going to be evicted for that, it would’ve already happened. Work comes first, and if Sapnap’s lucky, he’ll be too worn out to even notice if they’ve cleaned up the mess by the time he comes back.

 He pats the left side of his face, checking that his eyepatch is in place like it should be, and walks out into the thoroughfare of SMP City.

 Immediately, the world drops out from under him. Sapnap whirls around, reaching out for the wall that should be right there, but the thin clouds slip through his fingers without so much as a whisper of substance.

 The wind forces his good eye shut. He forces it open again, squinting, all too aware of the warmth smoldering in his chest. His vision blurs weirdly in a way that could’ve been from wind pressure or because he’s been out for longer than he thinks. After a few seconds of blinking furiously, it clears.

 Oh. That’s not the sky.

 That’s the void.

 Those are two very different things. One is up, and the other is… well. All around the city, truthfully; it swallows the ocean and heaven alike into the dragon’s maw, marking out the abyssal boundary of where the other worlds bleed into this one.

 It’s part of what makes commute in and out of the place troublesome, because too-big vehicles that get too close end up attacked by the aforementioned dragon—not that anyone’s every seen the whole breadth of the thing, just an errant wing or tail that swings up to demolish a plane or ship, black scales iridescent against the darkness.

 The fact that Sapnap is standing on a platform in the middle of this beast’s territory is, as they say, Not Good.

 Leaning over the edge, Sapnap sees no support holding up the square of rock he’s somehow ended up on. It’s just floating over the misty emptiness. Looking up yields nothing of note either; he must be pretty low in the void if he can only see the wispy fog instead of the surface.

 Something silver flashes at the edge of his vision, and Sapnap ducks out of the way of a shattered blade. His cheek flares, and he slaps a hand against it, wincing.

 The metal tumbles into the void. Sapnap pulls his hand away, and blinks at the smear of blood left behind.

 “GREETINGS,” bellows out from somewhere overhead. A long scythe of a blade lowers from the fog, and Sapnap backs up to the edge of his floating rock as its tip comes to a gentle rest over his throat.

 “Why am I here?” Sapnap demands. He slouches backward, sticking his hands into his pockets like the perfect image of a begrudged student. If it’s to hide the trembling of his arms, that’s a secret between him and the phone in his pocket. “Who are you?”

 “I AM UNKNOWN, COLLECTOR OF DIVINE INSTRUMENTS, PROSTHESIS MADE BY THE GREATER POWERS,” the voice booms. “I AM HERE TO COLLECT YOURS.”

 “Uh, divine what now?” Sapnap says. He presses his thumb against the cool screen of his phone, making sure it’s facing towards himself so the light doesn’t bleed out. “I don’t know what those are. You’ve got the wrong person.”

 The scythe jerks upward, nicking open his chin, trailing up his face.

 And comes to rest directly over his eyepatch.

 Sapnap stills.

 “THE ALL-SEEING EYES OF THE GODS.”

 “What about them?”

 “YOU HAVE THEM. OR SO I THOUGHT,” the voice adds, and the scythe withdraws a little. “I DID THINK YOU FELL FOR THAT TRAP TOO EASILY FOR A TRUE WIELDER… IT WAS EITHER YOU OR YOUR SYNDICATE FRIEND, THEY SAID, AND THE FANG HUNTER IS MORE TROUBLE THAN I’D LIKE.”

 Syndicate friend. Fang hunter.      Dream.     Sapnap's heart plummets to his heels, but he tries to keep an even keel. “Who’s they?” he asks over the sound of his phone unlocking. As subtly as possible, he drags his thumb across the screen.

 “AH, NOW THAT WOULD BE TELLING, WOULDN’T IT?” A low cackle rolls through the fog like thunder, ruby light flashing faintly in the distance. “OF COURSE, IF YOU GIVE ME WHAT I WANT, I WILL GLADLY TELL.”

 “You… want to take the Eyes,” Sapnap says, slowly.

 “I DO.” A metallic      click     echoes overhead, and two more scythes descend, grinding against each other in a thin shriek of metal on metal. “BUT IF YOU ARE NOT THE ONE WHO WIELDS THEM…”

 Inhale, feel the air warm in his throat, embers into flame. “What’re you gonna do,” Sapnap says, “kill me?”

 “AND WASTE SUCH A RESOURCE? NO, NO. YOU ARE BEST KEPT HERE,” Unknown says, amused. Another blade comes low, and clinks against the phone in his pocket. Sapnap freezes. “GO ON. ASK YOUR FRIEND TO SAVE YOU. CALL THEM HERE. THESE THINGS ARE ALWAYS EASIER TO NEGOTIATE FACE TO FACE.”

 Well now he doesn’t want to do it.

 Sapnap snorts, and a tongue of flame washes over the back of his teeth. “I’m not going to be your good little hostage,” he spits.

 “BUT YOU ALREADY ARE,” says Unknown, and the scythes all turn to slam into the rock.

 Ruptures tear across the surface of the stone, and Sapnap swears as he quickly shuffles onto the biggest piece. The edge crumbles away; far below, the fog shifts. A dull purple glow starts to brighten in the abyss, a tell-tale sign of the dragon waking, and Sapnap throws himself at the scythe in preparation to climb up the weapon-limb if he must—

 His vision      sings.    

 Suddenly, the world takes on a blue tint. Everything jumps into high-definition, and the fog might as well not exist, and Sapnap can see the arching crimson light of a      fucking Blood Breed     looming above him, Unknown is a      Blood Breed,     Sapnap doesn’t stand a chance even if he can read out the letters of their true name from the red aura surrounding them—he looks away, and notices for the first time the golden threads spanning the width of the void, glittering with magic.

 In the back of his mind, he registers that he’s looking at the spell that stopped the Great Collapse, the one that saved the worlds from folding in on each other into utter destruction.

 The rest of his mind is a little busy      screaming,     though.

 A displeased snarl rips through the air as another set of scythes cleave down towards him, and Sapnap exhales a spout of flame that slows them down only barely enough to dodge.

 “OH,” says Unknown, “OH, OH! IS THAT AN EYE? YOU      DO     HAVE ONE! I DIDN’T KNOW YOU COULD HIDE THE GODS’ GIFT LIKE THAT—YOU MUST LET ME HAVE IT, HUMA, IT IS WASTED IN YOUR SOCKET!”

 Sapnap shouts, “You can take it over my dead body!” and throws himself at the ground when a blade tries to cut him in half at the hip.

 “GLADLY!” Unknown dives, now, their nebulous aura now a very clear and vivid blood-red glare into Sapnap’s vision, ruby light spinning down their bony weapon-limbs like latticework.

 Sapnap doesn’t flinch, and even swings his head upward to let the Eye watch and watch and watch—thinking      this is what I go through for you     with only half the bitterness he really feels—which is the only reason he notices the other one.

 Two Blood Breeds in a single day. Fan-fucking-tastic.

 A blade pins him through the shoulder in a burst of hot-eyed pain, but the rest all      miss     as a thin red string wraps around Unknown’s limbs and yanks them upward, into the low-hanging mist.

 Sapnap blinks. He can still see them, thrashing against a thread that yanks Unknown around like a plaything before throwing them aside. It’s connected to the second Blood Breed, which is descending towards him now.

 Okay, okay, it’s fine, he has a little time. A Blood Breed’s weakness is their true name, so if he can just extract that, he might be able to… burn it, or something.

 Sapnap takes a deep breath, gives his vision the middle finger just so the other end of the Eye can see it, and then focuses      hard     on that deep red aura.

 For the most part, it’s just a storm of crimson, red and red and ruby and blood, but Sapnap keeps      looking     and his one working eye whirs like a machine as it narrows, cutting through the noise, piercing down until he can see the heart and the core and… at the very end, a thin string of letters in a language he shouldn’t know.

 The All-Seeing Eye of the Gods pours it all into his head:       red red crimson-winged elder ⍊𝙹╎ᓵᒷ↸╎⍊ᒷ ᓵ∷ᔑℸ ̣ ╎リᒷ ⍑||!¡╎ ̇/ᒷꖌ ℸ ̣ ᒷᓵ⍑リ𝙹ʖꖎᔑ↸ᒷred blood red red war red—  

 “Tech—” he begins, and promptly chokes as a hand slaps over his mouth.

 “Shush,” says the Blood Breed, calm as anything, quite suddenly right beside him. “Yeah, I got there in time, of course I did. Hey, you’re Sapnap, right?”

 Sapnap tries to melt him on pure force of will alone.

 “I’m gonna let go of you now. Maybe don’t be rude and expose me in front of an idiot like that, alright?” The Blood Breed exaggeratedly steps back, and Sapnap immediately flings himself to the opposite side of the very tiny floating rock they’re standing on. “Great, cool, nice talk. Not awkward at all.”

 “What do you want?” Sapnap demands, bristling.

 “You don’t recognize me?”

 Sapnap pauses. He gives the Blood Breed another once-over, taking in the plush red cape and royal garb. Looks at the name again. Nothing rings a bell. “Should I?”

 “Eh. Guess not. We’re a little short on time anyway, so introductions can wait, I guess.” As if on cue, the void begins to rumble. The dragon must be      inches     from rushing out.

 Sapnap waves his hand through what he’s sure is a gear of light blue energy rotating in front of his face, trying to tell his friend to let it go. He doesn’t want him to watch him die.

 The Blood Breed interrupts him with a hand on his wrist. “Hey. Do you trust me?”

 “Hell no.”

 “Smart,” the Blood Breed says, and shoves him off the edge.

[purplesurveys]

988

survey by ashleybayle

Has anyone ever told you that you looked like a celebrity? Yeah. The most popular opinion I get is Anna Akana and a local singer named Kakie, and then more occasionally I’ve also gotten Lucy Hale. Of course, all of these people are absolutely gorgeous though so it’s hard to accept comments like these lol

When was the last time you got something done to your hair? Professionally, late February. But I trimmed my bangs last Saturday.

Do you have any change on you right now? Barely. I only have a few 1-peso coins and a couple of 25-cent coins left.

What color is the pillowcase(s) on your bed? They’re pink with white lines.

Do you have a favorite day of the week? I like Monday mornings because we have weekly video calls for work and it’s really the only time I get to talk to other people anymore. Even if I can’t really count any of my colleagues as my friends, I’m able to get the human connection I’ve been hungry for and it always leaves me feeling good for the rest of the day.

Cutting your hair extremely short, would you do it? Yeah. That’s what I did last February; I’d do it again once my hair gets too long. I’ll probably go even shorter the next time because depression.

Have you ever been in an art show? I’ve been to art exhibits, if you’re referring to the same thing.

Would you considered yourself to be well-exposed to life or sheltered? I was sheltered for most of my life but I’ve been trying to get exposed to more scary life things so that I slowly start to detach from people I used to normally depend on, like my parents.

How high is your pain tolerance? Not high at all. I bruise like a peach and have near-meltdowns over sharp objects especially if I get pricked by one.

Have you ever played the game Halo? I don’t think so. I could have watched others play it in the past, but I’ve never played the game myself.

Are you wearing any jewelry at the moment? No I’m not.

Is there a sport that you love to play? Table tennis! Futsal was also fun the one or two times I played it, and it was in playing that sport that I learned I apparently make a good goalkeeper. In an alternate universe I probably play football, ha.

Has anything made you sad in the past 48 hours? Yes. That’s a constant state of mind now.

Have you ever had to learn lines for a play/skit/movie? Yes. We were required to do so many skits in high school so making scripts and memorizing lines was part of a normal day.

Do you like your nose? I’ve never complained about it. I don’t normally think about my nose either.

Is there a hair color you prefer on the opposite sex? No.

Kissing someone with facial hair, do you mind? I’ve never tried it, so I don’t have a solid opinion.

Would you ever like to be a stunt person? Sounds fun but I’m barely physically fit for such a role and I’d break a bone almost immediately. Even professional stunt people get injured, so...

Are you a pyromaniac? The furthest thing from it. I’m terrified of fire.

How soon is your birthday? Six months and a day.

Are you one of those people who listen to songs on repeat? Isn’t everyone prone to doing that once in a while? But yeah, I guess I’m ‘one of those’ people.

Can any of your friends sing very well? Lots of em. Hannah, Tina, Ed, Andi, Michelle, Nacho, etc.

Would you ever enter any kind of pageant? That does not sound interesting to me.

Do you have piano fingers? No :(

What is your preferred curse word? Fuck.

When someone's drunk, the truth comes spilling out, correct? I guess, for some people. Other people express their drunkenness in other ways. But I for sure lose my filter once I’m drunk; it’s a lot easier to ask me questions once I’ve had a few glasses, ha.

Have you ever shouted something random at someone out a car window? I’m sure I’ve rolled down my windows to cuss out a stupid driver once or twice.

Have you ever slept on a beach? No. I know my mom does, but I personally find it risky/dangerous. When it comes to open spaces like the beach, I find it hard to trust people to not be thieves.

Would you like to be taller? It’s not an active wish of mine. It’d always be cool to be taller, but I’m also okay with my current height.

Are you a fan of piercings on the opposite sex? Not necessarily. I wouldn’t say I’m attracted to them.

Have you ever listened to Celtic music? Nope.

Do you enjoy making up words? I’ve never done that, no.

Have you ever been attacked by an animal? Aside from the time a giant bird kind of charged at me at a safari and getting playbites from Cooper, no. Cats hiss at me all the time, but I get out of their vicinity before they can attack me or whatever.

Who did you dance with last? Rita, Blanch, Mik, Laurice, Jum, a bunch of strangers.

When holding hands, do you intertwine fingers? Yeah. That’s my favorite.

Is there a movie that makes you cry every single time you watch it? This is gonna get some eyerolls but...Titanic. Forever one of my faves no matter how overrated people find it, hahaha. The “Rose Dawson” scene gets me all the time.

Do you ever talk to the TV? I mean if I have comments about the show I’m watching, yeah I guess I’m technically talking to the TV. But I don’t talk to the TV like a camera, if that’s what you mean.

What's your opinion on Johnny Depp? I feel for him and all the shit he’s gone through with Amber Heard. I’ll always feel bad for having sided with Amber in the past. Movie-wise, not really a fan of his repertoire but I respect his craft and abilities nonetheless.

Have you ever watched the Tudors? Nah but I hear of it a lot, so I’ve always been interested.

Can you speak in different accents? No. My dad’s super good at accents though since he travels a lot for his job. He can do American, Indian, Singaporean, Chinese, Australian, etc.

Who was the last person you mocked/mimicked? The annoying person at the BIR who wasted my time. 

If you write, isn't writer's block the most horrible thing? I’d say it’s inconvenient, but it’s not the worst of my worries whenever it strikes.

Can you sew or knit? No but I’ve made up my mind about learning how to :) I put some cross-stitch kits on my online shopping cart recently and I can’t wait to get my hands busy.

Do you have a favorite pair of jeans? Yesssss. They’re the only pair of jeans I wear these days, on the rare times I have a reason to go out.

What size shirt do you normally wear? XS.

Are you good with money? I’m good with saving if I absolutely have to, but I’m equally good at spending all my money in one go lol

Has anyone ever aimed a gun at you? No. Don’t know how well I’d fare in that; I tend to freeze up and forget words when I’m terrified.

What is the first letter of the person's name you last kissed? G.

Do you use myspace for following celebrities, and facebook for friends? I never regularly used Myspace, and Facebook is for sharing memes, staying updated on the news, and connecting with family and friends. At least up until I deactivated last month.

Have you ever written a song? Maybe in grade school when it was an assignment for class, but never on my own time.

Do you believe there is life on other planets? Other planets in other galaxies perhaps in other universes, sure.

If you think about the universe long enough, it's baffling isn't it? Doesn’t take long for me, but yes it is.

When was the last time you fell? I haven’t in a while.

Are you a fan of Christian Bale? I wouldn’t say so. I don’t think I’ve seen any of his movies. I’ve been meaning to watch American Psycho for years but just never got around to it.

Do you have any sort of debt? No.

Is there an accent you prefer? I don’t know if prefer is the right word since I don’t have any favorite accents, but hmmm I can listen to Florence Pugh’s accent all day.

Have you spoken to the person you love today? Yep.

Would you ever travel to Los Angeles? If given the chance sure, but I honestly prefer other cities.

Have you ever been through a natural disaster? A lot of them.

Is there a specific time period that interests you? I don’t think I’ve ever been hooked to just one specific era...I’m interested in all of them and read about them an equal amount.

Do any of your friends own an expensive car? JM used to drive a Lexus to school on Fridays.

Have you ever been on a train? Just once. I had to go to Manila for a journalism class but I wasn’t willing to drive all the way there, so I took a train and had Jum keep me company because I didn’t know how commuting worked.

Is there a memory that embarasses you to think about? I mean yeah, there are a lot.

Have you ever used different colored paper clips? Possibly.

Where exactly are you right now? In a corner in my room.

Don't you admire those people who know exactly what they want to do? I admire anyone who’s able to make the best of what they’ve got, no matter what their progress is in life. Life shouldn’t be a contest of who gets their shit figured out the earliest or the best way possible.

Is there a guy you can talk to about anything? No.

Have you ever been in a parade? I know I said in a previous survey that I haven’t been to a parade, but now that I think about it I’ve been to several Pride Marches, which kinda count as parades...so yeah, I have been.

Would you ever consider being a news reporter? My entire family wanted me to end up being one, but it was never an interest of mine. I was just too shy to tell them that that’s not really my goal. I like staying behind the camera for the most part.

Are you, or anyone you know, an atheist? Yes and yes, I know several people who are.

Has anyone ever told you to "get a grip"? I don’t think I’ve ever gotten those exact words before.

Do people say you look your age? Or younger or older? Younger.

Have you ever sent a celebrity fan mail? Kind of. Five years ago my friend Heather and I were at YouTube Fanfest where Joe Sugg, Caspar Lee, and Oli White were part of the line-up, and we didn’t anticipate that so many fans would come with gifts even though there was no guarantee of meeting them. We came up with a little gift of our own, which was really nothing more than a tiny post-it saying that we love them lmao (we went to the venue straight after school, hence Heather having school supplies HAHA). It was such a poor-looking gift. We went to their assistant who was SUPER nice about it and didn’t make us feel like shit for our gift which was pretty much worthless and could easily get lost – it was literally a piece of post-it. I doubt it ever got to them, but we gave it a shot anyway.

Are you ashamed of how you acted when you were younger? Some parts of it, definitely. I grew up in a violent household, so I was violent towards my brother when he was a baby, not knowing how serious my actions were. I was also a pain in the ass while I was going through puberty.

Do you ever have those days where you feel you're the ugliest person ever? Yes.

Beauty is both external and internal, correct? Sure.

Have you ever been in a musical? Yeah, in grade school through high school. Never had a solo role, though.

When was the last time you swam in a pool? July 2019.

Is there a friend's family that makes you feel like you're family too? Angela’s. At one point, Katreen’s too, before we grew apart.

How do you know someone is your best friend? When I don’t feel like filtering my words around them, and when I allow myself to be fully vulnerable with them.

When was the last time you used a highlighter? Sometime in February I’m guessing. Before the lockdown and when I still went to school and had readings.

Has a flashlight ever ran out batteries on you in the dark? I don’t think so.

[mrsrcbinscn]

Franny Robinson HC Infodump #4: Country and Bluegrass Music

hi, I’ll finally do a writeup on her work in jazz next but I’m in a country mood and was INSPIRED so oops country first

Word count: 2486

Dara & Danny

  In 1991, Daniel Maitland (fc: Martin Sensmeier), an Indigenous Alaskan kid, moved from Alaska to Payne Lake, Georgia, with his parents and older and younger sisters after his father got a job opportunity in Atlanta, a reasonable commute away. Daniel spent two years being musical rivals with Franny Framagucci before he proposed they just combine their talents and perform together at talent shows and the county fair. The two were inseparable, musically, until Franny went to college at NYU and Daniel went to East Tennessee State.

  They remained friends throughout college and reunited during winter and summer breaks to play together locally. Daniel was in Franny’s wedding party. He’s Wilbur’s godfather and is ‘Uncle Dan’, they’ve always remained close. They would write songs together usually through an internet connection except for when they could travel to write in person.

  In 2009, Daniel once again was the one who suggested they officially collaborate. That’s when the bluegrass-country-traditional southern/Appalachian folk duo was born. They have released 9 albums together since they started releasing music under Dara & Danny.

  One album, titled Molly’s Church, is almost entirely songs from the hymnal of the Church of the Nazarene in their hometown in Georgia, which was the church their friend Molly attended before her death. It was a “fuck you” response to them having received backlash from certain gatekeepers for a video of them singing Hank Williams’ I Saw The Light going viral. They were pissed two non-Christians were getting praise for performing the song. (Franny is a Buddhist and Daniel is an Indigenous Alaskan with traditional spiritual beliefs).

  To the backlash, Franny said, and announced the dropping of this album on an Instagram Live Q & A, “It’s funny. Like. Christmas is such a part of mainstream American culture. I celebrate Christmas, my non-religious Maori husband celebrates Christmas, are y’all mad about that too? Christianity is so deeply woven into American culture and the history of American music, like I just -- its wild y’all are so mad. And because I like to poke an angry bear, our new album, Molly’s Church [...] and what really gets me is like - just because I ain’t Christian, don’t mean I’m ignorant about it either. I’m from the Bible Belt, y’all. I did go to church with my little friends some Sunday mornin’s as a child if I had a sleepover at their house. [...] One of my best friends, the lovely, talented, beautiful, late Molly Vaughn, who we named the album after, was a devout Christian. When I would cry, she’d always sing It Is Well With My Soul to me and play with my hair. You can’t tell me that because I’m not a Christian, that song ain’t special to me. I think of that song whenever I’m going through a hard time and my heart is at peace because at its core it's a song about looking at your situation and making peace with it, and finding the strength to move on to hopefully better days. At her husband’s request, I sang Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing at her funeral, okay? Like- [pause for annoyed exhaling] to suggest we have nothing but respect for these beautiful hymns is insulting. [...] Insulting not just to us, but to the hymns. They’re so beautiful that they have made an emotional impact on two non-Christian musicians. I think that’s wonderful and speaks to how lucky we are to live in a time where all sorts of sorts are able to learn from and share with each other. But that’s just us, I guess.

  Every song on Molly’s Church has a special memory attached to it for either myself or Daniel, or in the case of Be Thou My Vision, it was Molly’s favorite hymn ever. We couldn’t name an album of hymns after her and not put that on it.”

  The track list is as follows: [Spotify playlist]

  I couldn’t find a folksy or bluegrassy version of Be Thou My Vision, which. I’m ANGRY about. Because when I was a practicing Nazarene Christian it was my favorite hymn, and I still find it beautiful but.

  Come Thou Fount Of Every Blessing

How Great Thou Art

Dwelling In Beulah Land

Be Thou My Vision

It Is Well With My Soul

I Saw The Light

Victory In Jesus

Joyful, Joyful We Adore Thee

O Come, O Come, Emmanuel 

Mine Eyes Have Seen The Glory

Holy, Holy, Holy

  Another album, titled Something’s Rotten in The Sticks is purposely very dark. It’s largely covers of murder ballads and sad traditional folk songs from the American South and Appalachian Mountains, featuring original songs and covers of songs that explore the darker sides of more modern rural life like the opioid crisis, unemployment, poor education, poverty with no social safety nets, and more. 

  Franny openly admits that she wrote the original songs from a place of immense privilege. In an Instagram Live Q&A about the album she said, “These aren’t my exact lived experiences. But I feel like I have some right to talk about these stories because these are the things happening to my people, the good people of the town that took my mother in when she was a twenty-something year old refugee, and then helped raise me. I buried my first friend thanks to the Sacklers (the family whose pharma company produces oxycontin, who purposely spread misinformation about how its a safe drug and who pret-ty much engineered the opioid epidemic) in 1998. I just last month buried one of my best friends since elementary school after three narcan shots couldn’t save them. 

  Rural Southern folks and the problems they face are dear to my heart. [...] I know how lucky I am to have grown up in the rural south and ended up where I am today, in the privileged position I am in. [...] And I see the way people in the cities talk to and about these people and it’s fucking gross. You know nothing about these people and what their lives are like, and what they care about and worry about. I have always been proud to be Southern, just as I’m proud to be Cambodian. [...] Rural poor folks are the kindest, most loving, most resilient people, and I am not ashamed that I came from that. 

  This album… so our last album, Prodigal Children of Clayton County, Georgia, was a love letter to and about our hometown and the people of the rural south. This album is more of a ‘we see you.’ And it's also, I hope, an accessible way to start explaining the problems our people face to city elites that look down their noses at them. Like, I hope people can say in response to “I just don’t understand these people”, “hey, go listen to I Grabbed A Banjo (And You, The Pills), then talk to me.”

  Daniel said in that same Q & A, “I was born in Alaska, I met Franny when I moved to her hometown in Georgia, in middle school, and we began playing music together in high school. I live in the Appalachian Mountains now, I studied Bluegrass and Old Time music at East Tennessee State University, in Johnson City. Now, I’m -- I’ve been lucky enough to make a living out of the music I love, but you know- like I said. I live in the Appalachian mountains, in Kentucky, in a rural area. I never left the rural south, since I came here, this has been my home. We’re privileged now, but had a few stars aligned differently, our high school friends’ lives would have been ours. We love the people of this region. Like Franny said, we both have two groups of people we are passionate about amplifying and equipped to amplify. Mine are our struggling rural folks, and Indigenous voices, and Franny don’t ever shut up about Cambodian or the rural south.”

  “I really fucking don’t.” Franny quipped.

The track list is as follows: [Spotify link, the first 8 tracks are the songs they covered on the album and the rest are songs that fit the vibe of the original songs to give y’all a picture]

  Knoxville Girl

I Grabbed A Banjo (And You, The Pills), an original song about the opioid epidemic that’s killed many of Franny and Daniel’s high school friends 

Troubles, traditional folk song as popularized by Kilby Snow and Anna & Elizabeth

Red Dirt Girl (Emmylou Harris cover)

But I Ain't A Milton Boy/Girl , an original song about how in Milton (a bougie rich people part of Georgia) kids go to college and become doctors and lawyers while people from the song narrators’ town don’t bother learning to solve for X because all that waits for them is army recruiters, the power company, or the unemployment line [the male narrator, Daniel], and the female narrator [Franny] sings about how she was a smart girl who held her first baby when she was a baby herself, married two bad men she thought were good, and now she sells her ADHD pills to college kids to buy groceries, and how their high school aspirations crumbled easily, and the chorus is literally just narrators fantasizing about a decent standard of living and having decent opportunities and then going, “But I ain’t a Milton boy/girl, and that’s why I’m cryin’ today”

Deportee (Woody Guthrie song as covered by Dolly Parton)

Savannah, a song Franny wrote about the time her brother drove her down to Savannah when she got pregnant in high school so she could have an abortion three hours from home, where nobody local to them would be out front shouting at people needing abortions

Poor Folks Town (Porter Wagoner and Dolly Parton cover, instrumentation is modified to be a little melancholy to fit the rest of the album, but it is still a markedly happier song than the rest of the album except for Rich Kid Clothes)

Don’t Put Whiskey In My Water, an original song about a man nine years sober almost falling off the wagon when he’s laid off ahead of his teenage daughter’s high school graduation, including the line ‘don’t worry about Ole Miss, we’ll figure it out, somehow we always do, smart little girl like you can’t die in this town’

Don’t Take Your Guns To Town (Johnny Cash cover)

Pretty Polly

Down In The Willow Garden

Rich Kid Clothes, original song about a brother and sister super jazzed about their “new” clothes, hand-me-downs from the rich kids of the house their mama cleans, happiest song on the album

Health Insurance, an original song from the perspective of three different people, on in each verse, either dying or seriously suffering from solvable medical issues but because healthcare in America is trash they either can’t get help, or are going bankrupt trying to, that’s incredibly sarcastic including lyrics like ‘and I know I deserve to die for not having had a rich great-grandaddy, and who wants to see their daughter graduate college anyway’ , one of those sad songs with joyful instrumentation

  Another album! Is titled The Rise And Fall of Jenny and Jamie, and is a concept album meant to be listened from start to finish that tells the story of a couple that falls in love, gets married, has a very dysfunctional marriage, and ultimately divorces. Think the energy of Alpha Desperation March by The Mountain Goats, and the entire Tallahasee album but especially No Children. The Dara & Danny album is a little less dark because the last few songs, about divorce, are like...happy. 

  Daniel, who had been divorced twice by the time they wrote the songs for that album, said “There is nothing sad about ending a marriage you’re miserable in or don’t want anymore. The two songs about the divorce, they’re happy because our characters are happy to be done with each other. It isn’t Tammy Wynette spelling D-I-V-O-R-C-E and lamenting the end of her marriage, instead, Jenny and Jamie realize their marriage is toxic not just for the other person, but for themself, and they’re relieved to not be married anymore.

  Notable Dara & Danny performances and accomplishments:

They cover Whiskey Lullaby at many shows they do. A video from a 2016 show went semi-viral, and fans of the duo will show it as an example of “Peak Dara & Danny”

Nominated for the 2019 Grammy Award for Best American Roots Song, as the duo Dara & Danny, but ultimately Brandi Carlile won for ‘The Joke’

Franny was absolutely thrilled for her. She STANS Brandi Carlile and has written songs with her before. 

In the post-Grammys interview, the interview asked Franny if she was disappointed and she was like “I would pay Brandi Carlile to punch me in the face, so no.”

The clip of Franny saying that went viral and embarrassed poor Wilbur

“To be honest, when I saw The Joke was nominated, I didn’t even bother writing a speech. Daniel and I were both just thrilled to be considered to be like, at her level.”

Nominated for the 2019 Grammy Award for Best American Roots Performance, as Dara & Danny, and again lost to “The Joke”, but again, did not care at all

Won the 2019 Grammy Award for Best Bluegrass Album as Dara & Danny, their fifth nomination in the category and second win

Nominated as Dara & Danny in the category Vocal Duo of The Year at the 2019 CMA awards.

Nominated for IBMA Album of the Year in 2014, 2015, 2017, and 2018

Won the 2019 IBMA for Album of the Year 

Won the 2019 IBMA for Song of the Year 

Franny is the first person of Cambodian descent to win a Grammy, an ASCAP award, an IBMA, or be inducted into the Songwriters Hall of Fame

Daniel is the first Alaskan Native to be inducted into the Songwriters Hall of Fame

Solo work

  Franny’s used bluegrass-folk style music to write songs about the experiences of her mother and other relatives under the Khmer Rouge and in the civil conflict that preceded it. It leans a little away from #pure bluegrass but it includes mandolin, banjo, and even some traditional Cambodian instruments. It’s this blend of bluegrass instrumentation and traditional Cambodian instruments that on paper sounds like “Franny you’re crazy” but in practice its fuckin’ lit, y’all.

  It’s as genius as The Hu, that Mongolian band that was like “what is we play metal music with guitars and a drum set and TRADITIONAL MONGOLIAN INSTRUMENTS?” Lit.

  She did an entire album, Franny Sor Robinson Covers Kitty Wells [playlist] and that album gained Franny a ton of street cred in the country/bluegrass industry. She got a lot of respect for her Kitty Wells covers.

  She’s released three solo albums of folksy-bluegrass-country style music that is original music she wrote the lyrics and music for.

  Three solo albums, the Kitty Wells cover album, and nine Dara & Danny albums makes twelve country-bluegrass albums total Franny’s released, not counting featured artist appearances on other albums.

  Notable Franny Sor Robinson awards, performances, and accomplishments in the country music sphere:

  Franny sang ‘Born To Fly’ with Sara Evans once

Franny loves that song, it came out in 2000, when she was in college at NYU, and it was a staple song of hers to perform at any gigs she did in college

The day the United States legalized same-sex marriage, Franny was a supporting solo act for a friend of hers and she was like “I don’t know a better way to celebrate than by taking one of my favorite country love songs and making it better. And by that I mean gay.” By this point she’d been out as bisexual for years. So she sang Brad Paisley’s She’s Everything 

Franny’s always kept the pronouns the same in songs she covers, so if it was a man’s song about a woman she’s always kept it about a “she.” Her cover of She Thinks I Still Care by George Jones was an instant hit when it was released on one of her solo albums

At an event honoring Randy Travis, Franny performed his hit Deeper Than The Holler for him

She also got to sing I Told You So with him once at another occasion and she damn near died

At the final show of George Strait’s final tour, Franny sang Carried Away with him and almost cried he is one of her!!! Idols!!! and during his encore, she joined him and all of the other special guests of the final concert to sing All My Exes Live In Texas

She’s been awarded and recognized by various organizations for the furthering of Asian-Americans in the arts in general, in music, and empowerment for both her work in jazz and country umbrella music

She’s performed at and been nominated for CMA awrds, ACM awards, and Americana Music Honors & Awards

She’s won Americana Music Awards

When challenged to prove she could yodel she fuckin got right up and sang Hank Williams’ Long Gone Lonesome Blues and nailed all the very technical yodeling, and its a thing she’s like, Known for doing, so she will perform it live pretty often

[artificialqueens]

Objects in the Rear View Mirror (Craquameron) - Epilogue - Saiphl

When the stars are out of sight and the moon is down - Epilogue

Brianna’s PoV

And since I’ve done all the old ones ‘till they’ve all been done in

Now I’m just looking, then I’m gone with the wind

Endlessly searching for an original sin

A bit more than three hours, we’re landing, a bright sunny day in our dear New York, that’s buzzing with life and a way too crowded JFK Airport. Aquaria lazily yawns in the way to the conveyors, “come on sleepy head, we’re close to home, then you’ll sleep as much as you want”, I say to her, and she just looks at me as if I was speaking chinese. “Come on hun, just a little bit more.” She leans her head over my shoulder for a moment and Kameron wraps our waists with her arms.

“Band three and we’ll be out ladies. We’re back home!” Kammy says, and the three of us laugh. We take our luggage and head out the airport, as always it’s messy and crowded, our Uber takes more than ten minutes to arrive because of the traffic, and we stand under the sun, Aquaria trying to hide from the burning light, Kameron and I teasing her about it.

The way to our places takes its sweet time, and we keep talking, this time checking on our schedules to plan a night out. Right now we want to see how this turns out, maybe taking it a little bit slower than we did back in Cheyenne, coming to the realization that we have a lot of time ahead is refreshing, and the three of us know we’ll need to work as a team if we want to make our relationship work.

Kameron is the first to get home, she kisses each of us soft and brief, asking then for us to send a message when we get home. We see her walking to her building, she turns once more, smiling to us and waving her goodbyes, the car gets in motion before we see her get in. Aquaria holds my hand sighing, she looks like she’s going to say something, but it doesn’t come out at last. Leaning her head on my shoulder she says “We’re lucky… I mean, we have each other now.” I nod in agreement, and turn my face lightly to kiss her forehead.

After leaving Aquaria in her place, the driver looks at me through the rear view mirror, judgmentally arching a brow, I smile at him with my best ‘fuck your nose off of us’ glare. Then look at my phone screen, starting to reply all the unseen messages I have there. Soon, I’m dropped by my building door and the driver leaves as fast as he can. I bet he will be talking about us when he gets home after his workday.

I’ve been looking for the ultimate crime

Infinite victims, infinitesimal time

And I’m so very guilty for no reason or rhyme

I keep writing messages to my dear friend Vanessa, she’s been worried about all the process of my visit to Cheyenne, and for sure, she’s pissed that i’ve spent the last four days in radio silence. When the elevator dings reaching my floor, I slid the phone in my pocket and walk carrying my luggage to my door.

There’s a pile of unopened mail on my counter when I close the door of my apartment, I sigh to the idea of looking at it. It can wait. I walk to my room and fall straight on my bed, face buried on the pillows while I blatantly ignore the buzzing of my phone. I’m wondering when will be the time to bring my girls to my home, and suddenly feel anxious about how we will make this work for the three of us. My head spinning violently on the idea when the phone buzzes regularly, I’ll have to take the call. “Hey Vanjie! how are you?”

“Bitch, you have no fucking reason to ignore my messages”, Vanessa yells to the phone. “I demand an explanation, and better for you to start now, or I’ll go to bugger you face to face.”

“Alright, alright… there’s no need to yell, I can hear you perfectly”, I say, putting the phone away from my ear. “I just got home bitch, gimme a break” I ask, starting to laugh.

“Well, you have a lot to tell, the last you said was you were going to Aquaria’s sister wedding and then nothing, radio silence. You can’t say you’re going to see Aquaria after your disappearance and then keep the things to yourself.” Now her tone is more curious than pissed. “What happened at the wedding?”

I sigh, remembering the moment I saw Kameron at the church. “Aquaria was there with no other than Kameron” I answer, sounding a little more bitter than I expected. “Then they kissed old hollywood movie style on the dancefloor and I’ve lost it girl, like… lost it big time.”

We spend the following hour and a half going on every single detail of that night, and I can’t help laughing when I hear Vanessa gasping when I told her about what they’ve proposed to me. For the first time in the almost three years I’ve known Vanessa Mateo, she’s speechless, even more when I tell her that I accepted to be in a throuple with them.

She cackled when I got to the part of the parental meeting, and she was recreating my mom’s angry voice with eerie precision. When she finally managed to control her laugh, and with what meant to be a most serious tone, she asked “so, you are telling me you are now in a relationship with the both of them?”

I nod to the phone, and then say “I think so, like, I’m still sinking on the idea…” I sigh, and look through my window, the purples and reds of the sunset taking over the big apple. “I’m not sure how we will make it work, but what I can say, is I’m so happy that I’m afraid to sleep and not waking up.”

“Never say that again bitch, I need my best friend now, and I’ll need my best friend for at least the following century.” Vanessa sounds death serious, and I know she’s worried, but she will be by my side wherever all this crazy adventure takes me. “I’m happy to know you’re happy girl, but aside of this adrenaline rush, how do you feel?”

I take a little time to answer that, but I know it’s the truth. “I’m in love Vanjie, so much in love and I can’t wait for you to meet them. I’m sure you’ll love them too.”

The call comes to an end with us agreeing to have a coffee the following day, she doesn’t seem convinced, but I’m sure she’ll get me her perspective the moment we find a table and have a chance to talk.  I take a shower and then empty the luggage getting ready for the following day. I’m about to call to order dinner when my phone buzzes again. Kameron is sending a picture of her at an animal shelter, and introducing Aquaria and I to Cheyenne, the kitten she just adopted. The little furball yawning on her left arm.

Aquaria sends a voice message saying “Cheyenne? really? why did you do such a horrible thing to the baby?”

I laugh and record a message, “I have to agree with Aquaria, why did you gave him that horrendous name?”

“Because he’s the second step for a new start, and he will always remind me of you when you’re not around, my loves” Kameron answers, and I feel my heart melting.

Aquaria and I send a long appreciative message to her words, followed by a detailed list of what the kitten will need and a bunch of recommendations from Aquaria and her vast experience on cat breeding. Then we all say good night.

Thinking about the last four days, and how my… our lives have changed, gives me hope on the future, on a future where we are together, and happy. A future where the past injuries are no longer important; a future where love is what matters and I’m sure, for the first time, that I’ve made the right decision.

It’s not enough to make the nightmares go away

It’s not enough to make the tears run dry

It’s not enough to live a little better every day

It’s been a year and a half since we boarded that airplane to New York from Wyoming, and I can tell things were moving faster. The first months were complicated, as far as we were located in three very different points of the city, and our schedules were madness. Aquaria resented the little time both Kameron and I had by the time she was taking a breathe from the released collection of the following spring. Kameron resented the lack of time her work gave her and I… well, Vanjie and I just decided to start our own business, so the bakery was taking most of my time.

On Thanksgiving my parents, Sharon and Alaska visited us, and I bet Sharon was about to rip our guts off when she saw how sad Aquaria was. Thankfully Mom helped a lot on the process of her understanding that our lives were getting more complicated, not just because of us adjusting to our relationship, but because we were growing on our own fields.  

By Christmas we decided it was the time to think of moving in together. Kameron was done with the neverending rambling whenever the schedules didn’t match, and Aquaria was done with attempting to balance the free time, the commuting and the fact that the indie atelier she was working for was bought by a bigger brand. To be honest, I was done too with all the drama and the nights I’ve spent rolling on an empty bed, craving the warmth of their bodies with me. Most of all, we were done with being apart, things were starting to work for the three of us, we didn’t want to let our jobs to become a stopper, more than a way of living.

The first week of the spring, we moved together to a little place in Brooklyn, comfortable enough for three adults and close enough to our jobs. The apartment was big enough for the three of us, each one having a proper space to do our own business, and a good common space for the life we were starting to share. Kameron made sure the spaces were good and comfortable, while Aquaria busied herself on making it a perfect balance between the three of us. Cheyenne was the happiest cat with the moving, as far as he found thrilling to explore every single box we managed to empty.

For our first anniversary, we spent the night in a romantic dinner that Kameron prepared for the occasion. Aquaria designed and supervised the creation of three rings, they looked like a wedding band but were decorated with the birthstones of each of us and engraved with our names. She wanted to make our commitment official, as far as we won’t be able to get married, we can, at least pretend to be. My anniversary gift, was a scrap photo album made by myself, with pictures of us. Sharon, Alaska, Mom, Dad, Nebraska, my siblings, Chad, Morgan and even Katlyn shared those memories to document our story, it also had empty pages at the end for us to fill over the years to come.

As every other couple, we’ve had good and bad times, also moments when we questioned if this is what we really wanted. By now, we’re doing well, creating a world for us, going step by step, going day by day. I still feel lucky to have them both in my life, and as long as it lasts, I can tell that I’m having the happy life I’ve always dreamt about. We are having the happy lives we always wanted to have.

I’ve been looking for an original sin

One with a twist and a bit of a spin

And since I’ve done all the old ones ‘till they’ve all been done in

Now I’m just looking, then I’m gone with the wind

Endlessly searching for an original sin.

[sofhyuck]

Think of You

Genre: Soulmate!au, gender neutral, might become a series idk yet

Summary: You know who your soulmate is but he doesn’t know you.

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N once again thank you so much @choco-seventeen for reading over this you are so wonderful and amazing wowo <3

Masterlist

His hands travelled down your waist as he placed light kisses along your collarbone. A soft gasp left your lips causing a smirk to grace his lips. His fingertips pressed into your sides as your hips bucked up to meet his. The only light that penetrated the darkness came from the neon signs outside, peeking through the sheer curtains of your bedroom. With every passing second his fingers travelled lower, almost reaching where you ached for his touch. Slowly, he opened his mouth to speak.

"My name’s –″

The shrill sound of your alarm broke the dream and you groaned in frustration. These dreams started as soon as you arrived in Seoul four months ago, signaling that your soulmate was nearby. Each dream differed and only recently had the dreams become so…intimate. However, last night had been the first night he had attempted to tell you his name. The thing was, you already knew who he was. How could you not, considering his face was plastered all over the city. After minimal research you discovered your soulmate was the charismatic leader of Got7 Im Jaebum, a name previously unfamiliar to you. Despite the strong urges, you resisted learning more about him. How unfair would it be to him if you already knew every detail about him and he knew naught about you?

Reaching over to shut your alarm off, you got out of bed, mentally preparing yourself for the day ahead of you. It wasn’t that you necessarily hated your job, but it was certainly a drag. Especially since it involved an hour commute. For some reason, however, this morning you felt oddly light. Almost like you were excited to go to work. Labeling the cause as a little too much sugar the night before, you finished your typical morning routine. The door to your apartment swung shut and you shouldered your bag, heading out into the world.

A film of sweat began to form all over your body as you trudged towards your office building. The sun’s rays were especially unforgiving, and your blazer did little to quell the heat. Being on a crowded subway for forty minutes helped even less. A blast of cool air greeted you as you finally reached the law firm. Greeting the secretary, you headed up the stairs to your office. It wasn’t necessarily an office since you were so new, more so a glorified cubicle. You didn’t mind though; your coworkers were nice and the pay was good. Just as you had settled into the work flow, your coworker, Hyungseok, peeked his head into your office.

“Good morning Y/n! I was speaking with a few other people and we decided we wanted to try that new café on Apgujeong-ro for lunch today. You down?”

Ever since your first day, your coworkers had made an active effort to form a bond with you in the form of lunch. Some people might not have enjoyed such interaction, but you found it helped you better assimilate into the work environment.

“Of course,” you replied with a smile and a nod of your head, “I’ve been meaning to mention it for the past few days now!”

Hyungseok shot you a grin and a quick thumbs up before heading back to his office. Now you really did have a reason for the giddy feeling in your stomach. Lunch was always one of your favorite meals, and you had truly been meaning to go to that café for a few days. You could just never find the right time, until now. Settling back into your chair, you fell back into your work flow.

❃❃❃❃

A soft knock three hours later broke you out of your state of concentration. You turned your chair around to be greeted with the smiling face of Hyungseok. He was a handsome man, a few years older than you, and you had always thought he would make a good soulmate. In your first days at the office, you had occasionally thought a relationship between the two of you could have been possible.

It wasn’t completely unheard of to date someone before finding your soulmate. There were stories of people never finding their soulmate and, as people grew older, the fear of not finding theirs grew stronger. The fear pushed them to find significant others on their own. While some people were perfectly content on their own, and even speculated they never had a soulmate to begin with, it was more common to find someone as a replacement. That being said, Hyungseok already had his soulmate and you were constantly dreaming of yours. So a friendship was the only acceptable relationship between you two. You didn’t mind, though. As time passed you began to see him more as an older brother than a romantic interest.

"You ready to head out?” he questioned, smile still on his face.

"Yea, just let me save my work and I’ll be right out!”

He waited patiently outside your office as you saved your work and collected the necessary belongings for the short outing. Giving him a small smile, you walked side by side to the lobby where the rest of the lunch-goers had congregated.

"Y/N-AH!” Jieun, your self-appointed office best friend, yelled as soon as you appeared.

"Jieun!” You tried your best to equate her enthusiasm. Despite her being rather forceful when becoming your friend, she was quite nice and fun to have around. In fact, she was the only person you had told about your dreams and, specifically, the subject of your dreams. She may have been a social butterfly, but protecting her friends was always the number one priority.

"How was your weekend? I heard you finally went to that spa I told you about, even though you promised to go with me.” A small pout crossed her face as she recounted your betrayal.

"We were supposed to go together and you know that,” you retaliated with a laugh, “it’s not my fault someone had to go to the newest Pony Effect popup store.”

 "They had limited edition highlighters and you know I can’t resist.” She huffed.

"Not to interrupt, but are you guys ready to leave?” Hyungseok interjected. You both just laughed and nodded your heads in response, walking towards the doors.

Luckily, the walk to the café wasn’t too long, and you and Jieun were able to inform each other on your weekends. Jieun had successfully bought three limited edition highlighters, two lip tints, and an eyeshadow palette, much to your chagrin. She never seemed to cease her spending’s, worrying you to no end.

As you all settled into the café and received your orders, the conversation between the two of you switched to the topic of your dreams.

“So they’re becoming more frequent? Are they still just like, you guys holding hands? Have you kissed yet?” Jieun interrogated.

"Well,” you started, somewhat reluctantly, “they’ve begun to escalate quite a bit.”

Jieun’s face contorted to one of confusion before realization quickly took its place.

“You mean you’ve had sex?” she whisper-yelled, eyes blown wide.

A deep blush spread across your face as you quickly glanced around to ensure no one else had heard.

“We…we haven’t done it yet but, the dreams have been taking place in the bedroom.”

Silence settled over the two of you. Jieun stared into space with a look of concentration on her face. With a sudden jolt, she broke out of her concentration, slamming her hand onto the table. The table fell silent and it was her turn to blush, muttering an uncharacteristically quiet apology. Turning to you, she spoke in a rushed whisper,

“You know, this café is only a few blocks away from the JYP building. Hell, that’s why I agreed to come so I could drag you over there. I mean, everyone knows what happens when the dreams escalate.”

It was true, stories of the infamous sexual dreams were told far and wide, a cautionary tale that even schools could not resist teaching in health classrooms. Jieun herself knew the dangers that occurred first hand.

When Jieun first met her soulmate, well, she hated her. It wasn’t anything her soulmate did, it was just that Jieun led her life believing her soulmate would be a man. So, it came as quite a surprise when she began dreaming of a woman, and even more of a shock when they ran into each other outside of their dreams. They both agreed not to make any immediate moves, ignoring the warnings of waiting too long. Months passed and neither of them made an effort to meet again, until their dreams moved into the intimate stage. By then, you had become friends with Jieun and witnessed firsthand the side effects of staying away from your soulmate for too long. Constant headaches, cold sweats, and trips to the bathroom were only a handful of the effects Jieun endured. Finally, the two had enough and met up. The effects stopped almost immediately and, as they spent more time together, they learned to overcome their fears and fell into a deep, loving relationship. Despite knowing all this, you still felt a strong resistance to finding Jaebum.

“I can’t just…walk over there Jieun.”

“But you can! How hard can it be? Just walk right in and announce your presence!

"It won’t be that easy and you know it. There has to be heavy security there and so many fangirls must try to convince the guards they’re someone’s soulmate every day! And the chances of him just casually hanging around outside the building? Really fucking low.”

Sensing your frustration and inner turmoil, the topic was dropped and you all finished your lunches before heading back to the office. A heavy sigh leaving your lips, you sat down at your desk to finish your work.

Maybe next time, you thought, next time I’ll try.

❃❃❃❃

But next time didn’t seem to be coming anytime soon. Despite the café being close to the law firm, there were many restaurants closer and more convenient. Plus, you had just been assigned to a huge case with Hyungseok and the work load was not slowing down. Most lunches were spent indoors with your coworkers as you raced to prove your client’s lawsuit wasn���t based on pure emotion. This was the first case you had been assigned to and you needed to prove your contribution to the firm.

Medical malpractice isn’t what most people imagine when they think of lawyers. However, it was a niche where lawyers were much needed. The case you were working on involved a man losing his ear for what was thought to be a cancerous lump but turned out to be the result of a sand fly. The trial was fast approaching and the two of you had just about everything you needed.

“Hyungseok-ssi, what do you think of this?”

You held up a picture of your client’s ear.

“Look at the lump, and now look at these pictures of a cancerous lump versus a sand fly bite. There are numerous more similarities with the sand fly bite than the cancerous one. And look at this, in the x-ray you can clearly see the parasite beginning to take form! How could the doctors not notice this!”

“You’re right, y/n, the doctors should have easily been able to identify it as a parasite! I think this is the last piece of evidence we really need! Well done!”

You smiled at his praise, feeling as though a weight was lifted off your chest.

“I think we can finally make our client’s case, and not a moment too soon. I say we go out and celebrate tonight,” Hyungseok added with a smirk, “I’ve been wanting to go to the club for quite sometime now, we can make it an office bonding opportunity.”

“Oh no, Hyungseok-ssi I couldn’t,” you gasped, “won’t it be too awkward seeing some of our sunbaes in such a situation?”

“Come on, y/n, it’ll be fun. I promise.”

With a heavy sigh you agreed, much to Hyungseok and Jieun’s delight. In fact, Jieun was so excited that she insisted on dressing you up for the night or else you might “end up looking like an old cat person” which may or may not have been true. Once you arrived home, only a mere half hour of peace was allotted before Jieun came knocking down your door, already decked out and ready to let loose in her shorts and short sleeve bodysuit. As soon as you opened the door she made a beeline for your closet.

"You actually own clothes that aren’t for work?” Jieun didn’t even try to mask the surprise in her voice.

"You know, despite what you might think, I do actually enjoy dressing up to go out. Sometimes.”

“Yea, major emphasis on sometimes,” she replied with a roll of her eyes, “oooh, I like this, especially with this shirt! Hurry and go try it on!”

With that you were ushered into your bathroom, clothes in hand. She had chosen an outfit you hadn’t worn since college. Why you had brought it with you? For moments like this when you were able to let loose. Pulling the shirt over your head you glanced at the mirror.

“You still got it y/n” you smirked, admiring all angles of your body.

“I’m still waiting, y/n. it can’t possibly take you this long to get dressed.”

Rolling your eyes while smiling lightly, you opened the door. Jieun, who had been leaning against the opposite wall, sprung up at the sound of the door.

    “Daaaamn,” She let out a low whistle, scanning up and down your body, “you’re definitely getting dick tonight.”

"Oh my god Jieun!” You laughed, gently slapping her arm. She laughed with you, grabbing your arm and linking it with yours before heading out the door.

"I ordered the Uber while you were in the bathroom and it should be arriving any minute now.” As soon as the words left her mouth the Uber pulled up in front of your building. The two of you stepped in and headed off to the club. It was a relatively short ride filled with Jieun’s quick chatter and your laughter. As the car pulled up to the club you could practically feel Jieun’s excitement bouncing around the enclosed space. You couldn’t blame her, you were excited too. It had been a while since you last went out and had fun, even if the night would be spent with your coworkers.

After thanking the driver and heading inside the search for your coworkers began. It wasn’t too difficult and within a few minutes you settled in beside Hyungseok. Immediately he asked if you wanted anything to drink. You shook your head no. It might have been a night to let loose, but you didn’t want to get too carried away, especially since you were still relatively new to the firm. With a shrug Hyungseok headed over to the bar to get drinks for the rest of the table. Looking around you noticed there was still a fair amount of people especially for a Thursday night. Hyungseok returned and Jieun took no time to down her drink before dragging you to the dance floor. With little resistance, you allowed yourself to be pulled to the middle of the floor. A few minutes passed while you danced and sang along to the music, finally letting loose. Suddenly, a wave of dizziness hit you, almost causing you to fall over if not for Jieun grabbing your sides. She quickly waved Hyungseok over as she could hardly support you in her current state. The two pulled you over to the table and sat you down, one of your other coworkers running to get you some water.

“Y/n? Are you okay, can you hear me?” Jieun pressed her hand to your forehead, concern lacing her words.

Your coworker returned with a glass of water which you drank without hesitation. Slowly, your senses began to recover and you were able to support yourself without help.

“I’m fine now, I just got a little dizzy.” You said with a small smile.

“Maybe you should head home.” Hyungseok worriedly suggested.

“No really, I’m fine, you guys go have fun I’ll just sit here.”

Not having any of it, Jieun insisted on calling an Uber and taking you home. The entire ride back to your apartment you tried to apologize but Jieun was having none of it.

“You’re my best friend and your health comes before my need to party, y/n. You almost fainted for Christ’s sake!”

Still you couldn’t help but feel horrible for ruining her night as she put you to bed.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, ok? Rest well and call me if anything else weird happens.” With that she left and you drifted off to sleep.

❃❃❃❃

After your small episode at the club nothing else happened and you were able to complete your case without any flaws (Which you won. Your observation about the pictures really did prove to be the missing piece of the puzzle). Life had settled back into its usual pace, a few minor cases here and there floating through the office with no signs of your soulmate.

It had been about a month after the club incident when the office felt a blanket of stress settle over. One of the biggest cases yet had hit Hyungseok’s desk, this time without your help. Sensing his immensely stressed state, you headed over to his office and lightly knocked on his doorframe. He looked up, a tight smile settling over his face.

“Everything ok y/n?”

“I think I should be the one asking you that, Hyungseok-ssi. You seem stressed to the max.” You said, a light laugh passing through your lips.

“You’re right y/n.” He said with a heavy sigh. His posture fell as he ran a hand through his hair.

“Is there anything I can get you? A snack or some coffee?”

“Actually, I’ve been really craving one of those drinks we had at the café on Apgujeong-ro. If it’s not too much to ask…”

"Not at all,” you responded brightly, “I’d be happy to help you! I don’t have too much going on right now myself.”

He thanked you profusely, promising to repay you, which you insisted was completely unnecessary. Grabbing your coat, you headed outside. Autumn had arrived a few weeks ago and the crisp air brightened your mood. The streets were fairly empty, and you made it to the café without a problem. As you collected the drink you noticed a bit of a commotion further down the street. Paying the cashier, you figured you had time to figure out was going on. You pushed the front door open and followed the noise. Rounding the corner, you immediately stopped. You felt dizzy, your eyesight going blurry before clearing a split second later.

And then you saw him. Im Jaebum, standing outside of the JYP building, surrounded by a handful of fans. And he saw you. Over the heads of the girls surrounding him, his eyes locked with yours. He froze, and you panicked. Before he could even think to do anything, you ran. You didn’t know where to. Allowing your feet to lead, you weaved through the streets, drink in hand long forgotten. Suddenly your body completely stopped, as if someone had flipped a switch. In front of you stood a small convenience store. Without realizing you slowly gravitated towards the doors, pushing them open, a bell overhead signaling your entrance. Aimlessly you wandered through the aisles. Now cold, you dropped the drink in a trashcan, mentally promising Hyungseok you’d buy him a new one. Eventually you found yourself wavering in front of the drinks. Reaching out to pick up a glass of strawberry milk, the front door burst open, bell nearly falling off its post. Shelves blocked your view, so you turned back to the drinks only to find him standing before you. Despite being half collapsed over the refrigerators and clearly out of breath, a wide smile was spread across his (incredibly handsome) face. Your breath hitched, eyes wide, silence settling over you. Finally catching his breath, Jaebum spoke.

“Hi,” he breathed, grin still in place, “my name’s Jaebum.”

“Y/n,” you licked your lips, still in shock, “how – how did you find me?”

“I don’t know. I just, kind of knew you’d be here.” He said with a shrug. “It was like something was…I don’t know…”

“Pulling you here?” You finished his sentence. “I know what you mean, I didn’t even know where I was going when I ran I just sort of…did. Sorry about that, the running away I mean. There were just so many people around you and I –”

“It’s fine, honestly,” he cut you off, “there were so many of them it was probably better that we both ran.” He added with a small laugh.

Realizing the timing of your meeting wasn’t exactly ideal, you exchanged numbers and headed your separate ways, smiles never leaving your faces. Hyungseok wasn’t happy to see you return so late without his drink. Too happy to care, and too excited to think of responding, you sat down at your desk. Finally. Finally, you had met him. Your soulmate.

[myotishia]

In the air part three

Fandom: Torchwood. Trigger warnings: torture Characters: Owen Harper, Toshiko Sato, Jack Harkness, Ianto Jones, Gwen Cooper, Elise Carter (oc) Rating: Teen and up

Blurb: With a MLM possibly trying to sell alien technology it’s a race to stop the devices reaching the public. 

With Gwen away on her honeymoon their usual way of speaking with the police was unavailable so they had to go by their old methods, still knowing how to access the police systems as they hadn’t been changed in years. Owen was skimming over old reports to see if any other bodies had been found with the unique injection point at the back of their necks. It was a boring job but it was a good way to decompress and refocus. He stopped at a file about a girl known as Hellena Grace Higgins,  twenty four at the time of her death. It had been an apparent suicide three years before. Just before her husband, Carl had gone missing. She’d been found in bed with her wrists slit while her husband was away. She’d left no note and showed no signs of hesitation. Owen looked closer at the autopsy photographs, seeing the telltale mark, though more bruised looking than the others, at the back of her neck. It had been overlooked at the time and gave a reason why the police hadn’t searched as hard as they should have for her grieving husband.   

Elise and Ianto took a slow walk back, thankful that the recent rain had taken a break. People walked past them, just seeing the two as part of the crowd, never knowing their duties or what they had hidden just below the surface of the city. In the centre of the street a few doors down from Anne Summers stood a young woman in a bright pink shirt handing out leaflets. She had a forced chipperness about her and spoke as if everyone was her best friend. What caught the twos attention was the symbol printed on her shirt. She caught Elise looking and began her sales pitch.

“Hi hon, need a little excitement in your relationship or want to make some extra money from home.”

“Sure.” Elise began. “One sec. Babe.” She turned to Ianto and handed him the bag. “If you want to go ahead I’ll catch up.” She looked him in the eye, hoping he’d understand what she was doing. It took a moment but he got it.

“Oh, yea. Don’t be too long.”

“I won’t.” She turned back to the woman and Ianto retreated to a distance to observe, out of sight.

“Is that your other half? He seems like a sweet guy.” The woman nudged Elise in the arm.

“He is, but you know. Work stress. We barely have time.”

“Oh I know. It’s the worst. Have you heard of  Dodolyas closet? We’ve been around for ages but recently we’ve had a big boost in how many girls know about us all thanks to our new boss babe system. Our mission is to spice up your relationships and help women like you and me become financially independent without commuting to an office every day.”

“Sounds interesting but I’m kind of shy so I’m not good at sales.”

“No worries. We can all be boss babes in this business opportunity even if we aren’t too confident yet. I just heard that we need new product testers, and between you and me it’s something completely unique. Would you be interested in applying?”

“Sure. Do you have a form or a contact number?”

“I can give you the forms, here’s my referral code, but you’ll have to contact this number at our head office. The address is on the website and the envelope. This is so exciting. Trust me these products could, no, will change your life.” The woman handed over a booklet with the forms hidden inside along with more advertising material and a catalogue. “If you want to order anything then you can contact me by email or over facebook.”

“Thanks.”

“You have a great day.” There it was, the customer service smile. Elise smiled in kind then walked up the street, nearly jumping out of her skin when Ianto tapped her on the shoulder.

“Babe? Really?”

“You have to speak the language of the hunbots. It’s like a cult, if they doubt you then they get aggressive. She said you were sweet if you know what I mean.”  

“I’ve never wanted to cover myself up completely more than I do right now.”

“Come on ‘babe’ I’m hungry.” She laughed, hooking her arm around his.

“You should save shopping until you get home.” Said Jack, looking over Elise’s shoulder.

“Give me some credit, I’d never buy into anything this tacky and low quality. This is from the company the headband is apparently from.”

“Is it listed?”

“Not that I’ve seen but she said they needed new product testers so it might be still in the testing stage.” She took a swig of her orange juice. “They seem the kind of business to test something that dangerous on the masses.  I know for a fact a couple of the ingredients they’re using are carcinogenic. Though that might not have been discovered yet.”

“That’s what happens when people refuse to talk about sex openly.”

“True. Hel-lo. What do we have here?” She flipped to one of the final pages with a recognisable silhouette.

“Not just in testing then.”

“Think we need to give them a little visit?”

“Leave it with me. If they’re willing to kill their own higher ups then I doubt they’ll let us walk in the front door and give up production. See if you can find out where their stuff is produced, maybe we can cut it off at the source.”

“Yes sir.”

Finding the place where these things were being produced was easier said than done. She’d found where every other item was made but nothing on the headband. She’d even found a few items that were only in the design stages and where the samples had been made but there was nothing on the headband.

“What if there is no factory. What if they’re just printing the symbol on what they found.” She thought aloud.

“Not the best business practice.” Said Tosh.

“But it makes sense, right? They make them limited edition. That’s why it’s taken three years, because they had to collect enough. They sell what they have, take the money and run before people start dying. “

Jack smiled slightly at her trying to be proactive. “Your evidence?”

“The first one we found didn’t have the symbol on the band. The bands would be printed before it was constructed so even prototypes should be marked correctly. What’s more if the police photos are right then the design hasn’t changed in three years. The first thing you’d take out is the need for anything to break the skin and a setting that would cause levels of pain that could kill to prevent lawsuits unless you don’t know how to change the design. Think about those we’ve found too. What do you do when you plan to sell this thing, you get rid of anyone who knows where you got it from or anyone who doesn’t agree with them. It was personal. That’s why that guy killed himself. If whoever he’s working for found out that he’d failed to get the band back, then he could end up like the others and the only way out he saw was to end his life. He was in bad shape after going missing so he was probably at his breaking point.”

Owen sat forward in his chair. “That does cover the condition of the bodies, but I think it was more than just keeping them quiet. Floras death was methodical, sadistic, more than most people would be capable of. If my timeline’s right then this sick fuck is escalating. They’ve started with their business partners and people they want to keep quiet but it’s not going to be long until they start picking up whoever they think they can get away with taking. They keep the names of every person they sell to so they could potentially have thousands of options.”

“Right, Tosh, I want the names of every member of the testing group. Anyone that could have been sent one of these things. Let’s keep the group small. Try and pinpoint their origin within the company, we could have a wannabe serial killer on our hands.”

Speaking to people could be the most annoying part of the job as you had to listen to people drone on about the dreariest nonsense just to get the smallest amount of information. Jack, Owen and Elise had split up to try and recover as many of the headbands as possible while Tosh and Ianto did their best to narrow down the list. Elise had borrowed Toshiko’s car as she still didn’t have one of her own and had parked outside of a very nice looking house with a perfectly manicured garden. She walked up the path and rang the doorbell. After a few moments a woman dressed in a bright pink corseted dress and high heels answered.

“Yes?”

Elise put on her best customer service smile. “Hi. I’m from Dodolyas closet about the product testing you’ve been participating in.”

“Oh? I didn’t know anyone would be following up in person. Come in.”

She followed the woman who seemed more plastic than flesh into the lavishly decorated home.

“Please take a seat. Would you like a drink? Coffee? Tea?”

“Thank you but I haven’t got much time. I still have to visit some of the other testers.”

“I completely understand, you must be a very busy woman.”

“I definitely have been.  Do you have the product? We need to collect them all before release but you’ll be given a free replacement on release day for participating.”

“Sure sugar. I’ll go grab it.”

Elise watched the woman leave the room and looked around. Everything was so garishly pink it started to hurt her eyes. On a shelf beside the large TV were framed photographs for the homeowner with friends smiling and laughing. On the far left there was one with a few faces she recognised. One of them being Flora. She didn’t have much time to think about it as something blunt and heavy slammed into the back of the door and she crumpled to the floor, out cold.

Owen had just collected the fourth headband from a young woman who seemed almost desperate to keep the thing when she caught sight of the list he was checking on his phone.

“Oh, the brand owner is testing it too?”

“Not that we know of, why?”

“There. Deborah Coral. She uses her maiden name on all the internal paperwork. I don’t know why she’s testing it though. She made the thing.”

Owen rushed to his car, ignoring the woman's surprised questions, and hit his comms. “Elise? Just tap if you can’t answer me verbally. Deborah Coral’s on your list, she’s our killer. Elise? Shit! Jack!”

“Finished your list already?”

“Deborah Coral. She’s the CEO, not a tester. She’s the one taking the credit for making the headbands.”

“Nice work. Are you meeting up with Elise?”

“Deborah was on her list and Elise isn’t answering.”

“On my way.”

Owen put his foot down, hoping that he was wrong and that Elise had just taken her earpiece off. Even at top speed he would take a while to get to the other side of the city.

Elise’s head pounded as she came back to her senses. The first thing she realised was that she was strapped to a chair and completely unable to move, the second was that there was a blindingly bright light shining directly in her face that was making the pain in her head so much worse.

“You’re the one sticking their nose where it shouldn’t be then?” A sickly sweet voice seemed to echo around the room. “What I want to know is why.” Deborah moved the light to the side so Elise could see.

“I’m just doing my job.” She said through clenched teeth.

“Oh please, I know every single one of the people involved in my little project here and you aren’t one of them.”

Stay calm, that was the first thing Owen had taught her. In a bad situation you had to stay calm. She jumped as a nail scratched along the lines on her right hand.

“This scar looks like it was deep. Did it hurt?” She said it with such glee.

“Not really. No.”

Deborah huffed. “Shame. I saw you looking at my photos. You know when I found my husband was sleeping with that… secretary girl I was angry, but he did teach me one thing. Pain is a necessary part of existence. He was my first and it was just so… Exciting. Of course I had to find someone else to play with but that  Hellena I think it was. She barely lasted moments after I put this little to the test. That time I learned my lesson, anything too quick and it’s just not satisfying. Her husband on the other hand. Now he could really make a girls legs shake.”

“He killed himself.”

“Yes and he robbed me of my joy. Thankless little waste of time. I do miss him though, he was just so resilient.”

“Where did you find the headbands?”

“My husband found the first one. Him and his little friends used to go off on the weekend and explore abandoned buildings and bunkers. And he came back one day raving about this underground military bunker that he’d spent the night in. He told me that the chairs inside each had one of these on the headrest and that I had to try it. Of course I wanted to know where but he decided I didn’t need to know. I tried to get him to tell me willingly, I really did but he always had a weak heart and he’s better at fertilising the garden than he ever was at satisfying me. I had to piece together where the place was from his quaint little notes. After him I got a taste for pain. I should show you.” She gave a crocodiles grin and picked up a headband, wrapping it around the back of Elise’s head as she struggled. It was no use, she was bound too tightly and she felt the needle pierce the back of her neck. In her thrashing she realised that her earpiece and gun were gone. It could take hours for the others to realise she was missing. She had to stay calm. The pain in the back of her head pulsed.

“Get this thing off of me!” Elise shouted.

“Now now, you’re in no position to give orders. I’m guessing you were sent by whatever military group the headbands came from so you should have a decent amount of willpower. I wonder how long you’ll last.”

“You don’t want to do this.” She tried to breath through the blinding pain in her head.

“Yes I do. I want to make you scream. Your head must be killing you already and it’s only set to the fourth level. We have two more to go yet. This level it just amplifies pain, the next it makes any pressure or contact sting and the last level makes you feel your organs move. Isn’t that exciting?” Deborah giggled, picking up a riding crop from a table in the corner. She brought it down across Elise’s thigh sending a burning pain through her leg. It reminded her of the gunshot wound and she couldn’t help but let out a cry. It rattled through her body and took much too long to fade. If this was the lowest level then what had it been like for the others. The anger and bitterness over that made Elise pull herself back together. Spite. Sometimes the only thing that could keep you going was spite. The riding crop came down on her leg again but this time she clenched her jaw and refused to cry out. Deborah looked annoyed and brought the crop down as hard as she could. Nothing. She threw the crop in frustration and backhanded Elise across the face. It felt like she’d been hit with a bat and she could taste blood from a mildly split lip.

Debora grabbed Elise by the hair and held her still while she turned the headband up another level.

“Why aren’t you begging me to stop?!”

“Not… Gonna help… you get… off.” She panted, the restraints feeling as if they were burning into her skin.

Debora stomped her foot like a tantruming child. Getting a mischievous smile on her face she clicked her ridiculous high heels over to the table and grabbed something that Elise couldn’t see. She held up a wheel of sewing pins in front of Elise’s face.

“Where do you want these?”

Elise’s mind raced to think of anything to say to stop the psychopath from doing what she had planned. It came up blank. Debora took a pin from the wheel and held it up to the light.

“Don’t worry, these are fresh needles. I want to be the source of your suffering, not some infection. Shall I push this into a joint? Under a nail? If you beg me I might put it somewhere less sensitive.” She was shockingly strong as she held her victims fingers still, the long pin held just under a nail. The pressure alone burned but the sharp point would be agony. Nothing Elise could say would make it better so she closed her eyes and hoped it would be over quickly. It felt as if her index finger had exploded. She screeched, tears running down her face. It seemed to delight the sadistic businesswoman, making her laugh.

“Not so strong now.”

“Die in a fucking fire, bitch!” Elise roared, light spots swimming through her vision.

The woman raised her arm to slap her again but the doorbell rang.

“What now?! You stay here and think about your position.”

Elise watched the woman go through tears before trying to work out how to free herself. It was hard to get her thoughts straight and moving just made it worse. She needed to get her hands free. Fighting her own bodies natural reaction to avoid making the pain any worse she turned her hand so her thumb was tucked under her palm. Her fingers shook as she pressed down onto the arm of the chair to make some space for her to slip out of the belt. It was like her dream, the burning cold, her lungs aching, blinded by pain. With a fast tug she slipped her hand free and immediately pulled the headband from her head, the pain dulling to almost nothing. She didn’t have time to catch her breath as she unbuckled herself and wrenched the pin out with her teeth, staggering to her feet on still shaking legs. Placing her earpiece back on she called out.

“Anyone out there? I found our killer.” She gasped, still trying to gather her thoughts.

Upstairs Jack and Owen already had Deborah handcuffed.

“Where is she?” Asked Jack, his gun pointed at their prisoner.

“Who? Your little friend? I’m not telling you a thing. By the time you find her she’ll be dead or too far gone to save.”

The captain really wanted to shoot this woman but they’d already decided to call in the police. Her crimes were very much human and that wasn’t what Torchwood dealt with. Owen had murder in his eyes but decided to put the energy into finding Elise instead. Thankfully they didn’t have to look far for their agent, hearing her voice on comms.

“We’re here. Where are you?” Asked Jack.

“Cellar I think… I’m ok. Did you get her?”

“We got her.”

Elise appeared from behind a bookcase that slid to the side. She looked pale but enraged.

Deborah looked round. “How did you get out?”

“Small hands, spite, just to ruin your day. You’re lucky they’re here because right now all I want to do is smash your fake, plastic, over painted face into the floor... Are the police here yet?”

Owen shook his head, moving to let Elise get close to the bound woman.

“Good.” Elise backhanded Deborah across the face as hard as she could. After that display that neither man had any intention of stopping, Owen guided Elise to sit down.

“Any double vision?” He asked, crouched in front of her.

“No. I’m fine. I don’t think I was out for long.”

He wasn’t convinced but her pupils reacted correctly and she showed no signs of confusion. Her breathing finally evened out as he examined the back of her head. There was a large bump but the skin hadn’t broken.

“What happened down there?”

“That bitch put one of those fucking headbands on me. Had a riding crop.” She pulled her trouser leg up to show the nasty welts on her thigh. As she put the fabric back down it was clear that she was keeping her finger away from touching anything. Owen took one look and knew what had happened.

“You interrupted her.” Droned Elise, looking at her finger. “They were new needles. She made a point of telling me.”

Owen winced and that. “Mind if I check for myself?”

“Go ahead. The headband’s on the floor down there too. I didn’t look at the rest of the room.”

“You leave that to me.”

“I fucked up, didn’t I?” she sounded angry at her own incompetence.

“Oi, stop it. If we thought for even a moment this was a possibility then none of us would have gone alone. You handled it the best way you could. We dropped the ball on that, not you.” He handed her an ice pack for the back of her head before going to collect what he needed from the cellar.

With no signs of a concussion Elise was cleared to drive back to the hub where Tosh almost knocked her over with a hug.

“Are you ok? You went dark and I thought… Are you hurt?” She asked, not letting go.

“Bruised but otherwise. I’m ok.” Elise smiled softly. She suddenly wanted to cry but had no idea why, swallowing to stop herself and hiding in Toshiko’s shoulder. She ached all over and her finger pulsed.

“Are you sure?” Tosh could feel a few tear drops land on her shoulder.

Jack rested a hand on Toshiko’s other shoulder. “Take her home. It’s going to hit her soon and it’s better if she’s in familiar surroundings.”

“What happened? Jack?”

“I’ll call you later to explain.”

Elise rubbed her eyes with the palm of her hand, looking down at her shoes. “I’m fine. I don’t even know why I’m crying.”

He sighed and looked at her sympathetically, gently holding her arms. “Elise. Look at me.”

She sniffed and looked up into his bright blue eyes.

“What she did to you was torture. It doesn’t matter if you’re in one piece or not. Minutes or hours, you’re not weak for it affecting you. I’d be more worried if it didn’t affect you.” He said softly but firmly, letting her fall into his arms, shaking. “It’s ok. I’ve got you.”

Later that night Elise opened up to her girlfriend and was shocked at how much she understood.

“Ely, sometimes bad things happen to us. You can’t blame yourself. You didn’t do anything wrong. You handled it so well. Better than I would have. Ok?”

She didn’t seem to want to answer.

“Come on. Ok?”

“Ok... I want to be cut out for this but I’ve never had anyone tell me that I was worth a thing until I met my Owen and all of you. I always feel like I’m just in the way.”

“If you haven’t been retconned then you’re fine. I trust Jacks judgement.”

“Not that you could.”

“Hm?”

“My Owen told me I’m immune to it.”

“Still. You have a right to be here and we all know how hard you’re trying. You’ve saved lives. Don’t you think that makes you worthy of being happy?”

“I am happy. I’m very happy. My head’s just all over the place.”

“You can tell me anything, you know that don’t you? Even if you don’t think it’s important. I think it’s important. I want you around. If you can’t do it for you yet then do it for me.”

“I will.” Elise smiled and cuddled up to Tosh.

“Want to know what I was doing before dinner?”

She nodded.

“I shut down the dodolyas closet website, reversed all the charges on their system for the last month, sent all of their illegal practices to the police and made sure she couldn’t buy her way out of trouble.”

Elise laughed. “That’s amazing. I love you, you know that?”

Tosh blushed. They’d never said the ‘L’ word before. “I love you too.”

[violetsystems]

#personal

There was a definite shift in the general vibe of things this week however weird it remains to be.  The plague of statement based street wear is that I always read into everything I see on my commute.  Thursday morning it was a shirt that told me to be positive in pink cursive font.  Knowing how to gauge signal to noise is always harrowing.  If you err on the side of optimism sometimes you create your own magic.  The first photo op with the preying mantis was a surface level joke of unknown origins.  I can never be sure if it’s random or not these days.  What matters to me is my personal reaction to things.  After the second pass it was apparent to me that a living thing had been brought to my attention.  I grabbed a Jun Takahashi shoebox from my office and a file folder.  I squatted down in front of the giant windows in front of work while people watched puzzled.  Scooped the mantis up and delivered it to the park outside of the museum.  Took some video.  I saved a bat a couple of years ago outside of work.  Brought it all the way to Northerly Island during a heatwave in a styrofoam cup.  Nobody remembers that but me.  I remember why I did it.  I’m always motivated by safety and respect for living things.  I may not follow through enough to get noticed or have my own tv show.  But the act of helping in these situations does bring about a sort of revelation in my head.  The way things are in Chicago it’s always hard to tell if it’s the universe sending a message or something far more sinister.  The mantis mates and kills.  I guess I didn’t have a lot of time or equipment to verify this particular mantis’ gender.  I did read a National Geographic article that pointed out the exaggerations statistically.  I have a history of gardening.  I am for lack of better terms a gardener.  I enjoy nature and observe often.  The moon flowers I planted outside years ago only bloom outside of my kitchen window for some reason every morning.  I’m probably more of a druid than a warlock in real life.  I feed feral cats at my doorstep every morning and sometimes get a nudge in the calf muscle.  What all this means to me is that I’m kind and caring regardless of how people judge me in person.  I’ve learned people are just anxious and hurt most of the time in that respect.  They lash out.  I’ve also learned to stay out of the way and in my own lane however overgrown with foliage it is.  As secluded and quiet as my life has become I don’t feel all that alienated.  I arrived at this point by setting up boundaries for both myself and society.  Maybe the year before was more about training myself.  This last year has been about showing people what I am really about.  As much as I shy away from fake, rehearsed bullshit there are moments when I perform in plain sight.  It’s called living life with love, care and intention.  It goes ignored often.  It’s confusing to some people when they can’t intimidate you the way they want.  Things just fall into your orbit magically like you are docking at the International Space Station.  It’s a long difficult process that takes patience and focus.  But in space no one can hear you scream.  Unless they have the security clearance to share the same close quarters with you.  Then there’s really nothing to be screaming about. at that point.  The hardest part is over.  Though I am exhausted enough to sigh deeply at what lies ahead.

Everybody wants to know the path they are on is not a waste of time.  I can remember as far back as college  where I sat hovering over tarot cards in a dark room.  I read from the Thoth deck mostly because of the art but also because of Carl Jung.  I was focusing on English and Psychology at the time.  I would read into the cards to try to find a deeper meaning.  I read a lot about Jungian archetypes and Joseph Campbell’s Hero’s Journey.  I grew up on Star Wars and G.I. Joe but was raised staunchly anti-war.  Years later I drifted into a job and a career and stayed there.  Over two years ago I decided to quit drinking and start exploring New York.  This was after five or six years travelling back and forth to Asia by myself trying to kick start a dead musical identity.  It’s mind numbing to think about this much failure this early in the morning.  I’ve been playing magic the gathering more seriously in the past two years than anything.  I lose ninety percent of the time.  In some people’s eyes I’m a joke and in other’s I’m something they’re inspired by.  Neither of those really affect me all that much anymore.  I do see a lot more Undercover these days in the streets in terms of fashion.  I’ve been wearing that stuff for years and fading into the background ironically I guess.  The feeling I’ve always settled into was that I simply was not good enough to be noticed.  That feeling can be toxic and lethal to your dreams.  It’s the first onset of negativity and it can speak volumes.  So the real mind fuck is that you ultimately are the one to choose whether or not it is worth it to stay on the path you are on.  Following your dreams is as easy as it sounds.  But there’s no shortage of people to point the finger at them and tell they are unrealistic.  There’s always deeper reasons behind the discouragement.  Just like there’s different ways to read into different things.  Your frame of mind shapes the probability of where the pendulum will swing ultimately.  You put your own miracles in motion.  Miracles that people would rather see fail because it knocks them out of the equation.  I wouldn’t argue that a higher level of thinking might be at play.  Let alone a higher power.  But what you do with the insight is on you.  You take the leap of faith or you sit in your room and wonder if you are good enough to be a friendly neighborhood spider-person.  Having the calm and mental acumen to take the step is another thing entirely.  Is your shit really together?  Stress is all around us.  Doubt is what we’ve come to expect.  Everyone is afraid to lead and I can empathize.  Sometimes you need to walk away from everything that really is a waste of your time.  You can hear the screams of judgment in the distance.  I think I’m so much better.  I didn’t do it the way you expected.  I broke the rules to a game with no rule book.  I made them up as I went along.  And somehow got lost in Jumanji forever.  Thanks Sony.

Joseph Campbell’s Hero’s Journey always ends with the Hero coming home transformed.  How many ever adventures you go on with a positive mindset will change you after awhile.  People take that a little far when they follow me to the grocery store on my lunch break.  But Chicago is where I have lived for over two decades now.  You never realize what all has built up around you.  What blooms in front of your face and under your nose after awhile is anyone’s guess but your own.  You can see the signs and feel the rhythm of it.  That you’ve built something up from all of this.  But maybe you want more.  Maybe you demand it.  Maybe you won’t settle for less.  Some people close a chapter and feel like they’ve written the book.  Some people the saga draws on and on with no end in sight.  Some people feel their life is over and some people feel like it’s just warming up.  For some people the hero’s journey never ends.  It’s the very cycle of life.  The hero starts within you.  We all know what we look up to.  We all know the things we are inspired by.  We all know the pride before the fall maybe.  We all don’t always get back up again.  Years ago I took it upon myself to motivate me to become something inspirational if only to myself.  I ran great distances.  I helped tourists.  I gave my kindness to animals.  I found what made me happy within the limits and tested them.  A hero that comes home to their own city and razes it to the ground doesn’t leave much room for witnesses.  I fought a lot of battles here in Chicago.  Maybe even some in New York.  And still there’s always someone to question it.  How they’re better.  Talking instead of listening.  Speaking instead of doing.  The English language in America is a luxurious waste of time when nobody cares if they are understood.  People explaining the explanation over and over again.  Arguing the minutiae of details without ever tackling the problem or implementing a solution.  They’re afraid to fail.  They’re afraid to break down in public and look at themselves.  To see yourself as a real hero requires you to see in yourself the opposite.  I’ve been more miserable than anyone can know.  I’ve faced my loneliness head on and saw some ugly things.  I had self doubt planted in me on so many levels.  It was up to me to detach from it.  And when you lead through the trees you are almost always the first one out of the forest.  It’s a very lonely feeling to know where you have been.  But when the forest clears and the sky is wide open you you can either take a deep breath or sigh and look away.  There were times when I wasn’t ready to take in the entire horizon.  These days I’d rather get lost in it from my kitchen window.  Sure in space nobody can here you scream.  But we’re both here down on Earth where I hope these feelings catch a breeze and eventually reach your window.  I hope it’s still warm enough wherever you are to receive it.  I know it’ll get there eventually.  This is the planet we call home after all.  And I’m glad I get to share it with you specifically.  However far away it seems you are the heart is always a great place to start.  <3 Tim

[waynebomberger]

A Long Answer to a Stupid Question

Hello!  I'm back from my family vacation, and you'll be glad to know that Paris, France was absolutely formidable:

Yeah, I realize the Tour is usually in July, but this year they moved it up to February just for me. Now that I'm back, I'd like to address a question someone posed in the comments section of my last post, and I'm doing so for two reasons: 1) It's a question that pops up semi-regularly; B) I find it really annoying so I'd like to answer it definitively once and for all. And now, here is that question: Anonymous said... I guess one question would be why someone so involved in cycling would live in such a gawd-foresaken-place when it comes to actually riding a bike in the first place? Is there a worse place on earth? Perhaps Sydney Australia? But the weather's better there so perhaps NYC is the worst? February 22, 2019 at 8:31 AM Then, after various insightful comments from other commenters: Anonymous said... Some guy from upstate: "Clearest advantage as transportation" I get that, but Snobby writes a lot about FUN rather than just slogging through congested streets using a bike as transportation. The challenge of finding a fun place to ride seems semi-impossible in a place like NYC, DC or (gawd) Florida so I don't think it's odd to wonder why someone so involved in the activity/lifestyle (rather than a simple schmuck who just uses a bike to get around) would choose to live in a cycling hell like NYC. February 24, 2019 at 4:51 AM Okay, before anything else, this comment was in response to my latest Outside column, which is specifically about the NYPD.  So sure, I'll move someplace else in America where there aren't issues with law enforcement, just as soon as you tell me where that is.  Go ahead, I'll wait. I thought so. All right, now that we've got that out of the way, let's address the cycling part, specifically: I guess one question would be why someone so involved in cycling would live in such a gawd-foresaken-place when it comes to actually riding a bike in the first place? Well, for one thing, I was born here.  For another, if you read my lengthy CV you know that once I grew up I realized I wanted to be in book publishing, an industry which pretty much only exists in a meaningful way in New York.  (And yes, my first three books were published by Chronicle Books, which is based in San Francisco, but nobody who already lives in New York moves to San Francisco to begin a career in book publishing, and no writer anywhere moves just to be close to their publisher.) Oh sure, there are people who finish high school or college and decide, "Hey, Tucson seems like a cool place, I think I'll pack a rucksack and live there for awhile."  That's fantastic for them, but I'm simply not wired that way.  I was born clenched of sphincter, not free of spirit.  Furthermore, if I've got a lifetime of roots in a place that's not only interesting and full of opportunity but also happens to be the very best place in the country to pursue my professional ambitions then why the would I pull up stakes and leave?  And on top of that, it's not like I had any idea when I was 21 that I would wind up a semi-professional bike blogger.  Not only was there no such thing as a blog, but the fixie craze was still like a decade away--and even then, living in New York meant I was in the perfect place to make fun of it. Oh, and one other small thing: my wife has a highly successful career in--you guessed it--book publishing, so if you think I'm going to say "We need to move to [x] because riding bikes is more fun there" then you don't really understand how life works on any level. And what about the fun part, anyway?  Are there more fun places than New York City to ride a bike?  Undoubtedly.  In fact, as a semi-professional bike blogger I've visited a number of them.  However, that doesn't mean I'm going to drop everything, move to Gaioli in Chianti, and ride my own personal Eroica every day for the rest of my life--because again, that's not how life works.  (And also the tight sphincter part.) Even so, what a lot of people don't realize is that New York City and the surrounding area is actually a fantastic place to ride a bike, especially when you consider what a massive metropolitan area this is.  Here are just a few reasons why:

You can race your road bike pretty much every week (and often multiple times a week) from March through September ;

There's a outdoor velodrome in Queens and you can race there too;

There's a cyclocross clinic on Randall's Island as well as an actual sanctioned cyclocross race in Queens;

There is excellent road and mountain biking just outside the city, and if you don't like riding a lone there are about a zillion teams, clubs, group rides, shop rides, charity rides, fondos, etc.;

You don't have to set foot in a car to do any of the above--but if you do get in a car now you can do all the regional road, mountain, and cyclocross races, too;

Don't want to race?  Go bikepacking.  Go camp on a beach.  Go up into the mountains.  Go take a foliage tour of New England and ride though covered bridges and shit like that.  It's the Northeast for fuck's sake, there's great riding here!

Even the weather here gets a bad rap.  However, riding conditions in spring and fall are generally superb.  Yes, summer is hot, but that's true in most places.  And while the winter may seem daunting, the fact is that brutally cold days are relatively few, and one advantage of living in a big city is that even when it snows the roads are rarely impassable by bike for more than a day or two, which means even if we get a fuckload of snow you'll probably be able to ride in Central Park within a couple of days.  For people like me who can't bring themselves to ride the trainer, that's a big deal.

But let's set aside ambitious recreational exploits and look at regular everyday knocking-around-town riding.  Do we have our fair share of homicidal motorists and knuckleheaded cops?  Of course.  This is America, after all.  Still, having ridden in many cities around the country, I'd say we're easily among the best places to ride a bike, and in certain respects we are very possibly the best place to ride a bike.  The reason for this is that the bicycle is--and has always been--very much a part of the fabric of this city.  A place like Portland may have a higher percentage of bike commuters, and it may be a less stressful place to ride simply due to the lower density, but I doubt there's any place in America that rivals the sheer diversity of people on bikes you get here in New York City.  Ride around here and you'll see people of every race, gender, age group, and income bracket using bicycles of every conceivable kind--including for work.  Ride around Portland and you'll see a bunch of interchangeable white people in Showers Pass jackets.  (I'm not trying to knock Portland.  I really like Portland.  But, you know, it's Portland.)  Sure, a place like Portland is ostensibly more of a bike city.  But there's nowhere else in America where riding a bike to get around is as boringly normal as it is here in New York.  In that regard, to beat us you've got to leave the country, that's the bottom line.

Now I'd certainly never try to convince someone they should move here, nor would I try to talk someone into loving New York City if they've spent real time here and discovered they hate it.  And who knows, maybe one day when the kids are grown I'll retire to some cycling paradise.  (There are definitely other places in this country I could imagine myself living one day, more on that tomorrow.)  In the meantime though, if you're looking for everything life has to offer--including top-notch cycling--this is a pretty good place to be.  There are eight million of us here after all, and while we may be crazy, we can't all be stupid, can we?  (Though if you're a New Yorker who's both crazy and stupid apparently you get to be president.)

from Bike Snob NYC https://ift.tt/2EvtUYp

[junker-town]

Forget San Diego and L.A., these are the StubHub Chargers

The Chargers, stuck between the city they left and a city that doesn’t want them, are finally where they should be.

T11n pronounces his name “Twin,” because he is a twin, and that’s an important part of his identity. It also means that there could conceivably be two large diehard Chargers fans barreling through this impromptu dance floor setup in the StubHub Center parking lot (and there are space considerations). He’s part of We Charge LA, one of Los Angeles’ largest Chargers fan groups, established long before the team moved. The Chargers may have an identity crisis, but T11n’s got an answer for that.

“Southern California, Boy,” he tells me. “Make sure you use that slogan, kid.” T11n explains what he means by doing some call-and-response with a nearby fan.

“What do we rep? 619, right?”

619 baby, one hundred.

“I'm 323, right?”

Yeah, that's all day.

“So what is it? Southern California. Southern California dog. Fuck LA Chargers. Fuck San Diego Chargers. Southern California Chargers, that's what the fuck the team name should be.”

A row of tailgates called Thunder Alley has fans from all over Southern California, many from San Diego, and it feels like a block party. But Thunder Alley used to be much bigger, according to Jeff Dotseth, a former pre- and post-game host on the Chargers’ flagship network. “Even on the worst days in San Diego, tailgate city would be six of these, and now it's one.”

Relocation has been costly to the fanbase. Shawn Walchef, a barbecue restaurant owner in San Diego, was near the forefront of the Save Our Bolts movement to keep the team. Most of the people who had joined him then have moved on now that the team is in L.A.

“Maybe 20 percent remains of the Save Our Bolts group. And that's pretty much the fanbase, too,” Walchef says. “I have friends, they're no longer Chargers fans. They gave me their shit. We're a Charger bar, we have Charger gear, memorabilia. People are like, 'Well, aren't you going to take down all your Charger gear?' Absolutely not.”

Walchef and Dotseth both commute up from San Diego to see the team. Walchef is a diehard among diehards — he was inducted into the Pro Football Ultimate Fan Association this year. They’re part of the winnowed but rock-solid core that still believes in the Chargers despite so many good reasons not to. The Chargers left San Diego with a whimper after accepting a deal that left neither fans, nor players, nor ownership completely happy. Walchef’s estimation is consistent: Every person I speak to says that somewhere between 70-80 percent of San Diego fans no longer support the team. The organization, meanwhile, arrived in L.A. to apathy and almost no fanfare after the Rams beat them to the market.

In many ways, the Chargers deserve this. They’ve had to strain to fill the StubHub Center, their 27,000-seat temporary home, which normally serves as the home to the MLS franchise LA Galaxy. It’s the very picture of the Chargers’ decades of uneven success and the tense relationship between fans and ownership. They are a cheap ticket in a small venue that is maybe 85 percent full and half-filled — at least — with fans of the other team.

For a team that’s no longer San Diego and not yet Los Angeles, these can’t be the Southern California Chargers, all due respect to T11n. These are the StubHub Chargers, a team borne by the players and the fans who stayed, and only them, in this space, for as long as it lasts. As ownership bides its time waiting for a new stadium, and now that so many supporters have left, the Chargers’ endless journey to find themselves continues in a strange place.

“And that's unfortunate,” Dotseth says. “When I walk through this, I see a lot of people trying to put on a brave face, but I see a lot of people who are really heartbroken that it's not the normal routine.”

Photo by Tom Antl

The Chargers had an identity crisis from the start.

No one can quite pin down exactly where the team name came from, but a tale goes that the team’s then-owner, Barron Hilton, of Hilton Hotels lineage, held a naming contest, opened a letter that suggested “Chargers,” and didn’t bother reading another. The name reminded him of the bugle calls at USC games imploring fans to yell, “Charge!” — or perhaps he liked the affiliation with the Carte Blanche credit card he was releasing at the time; it’s unclear.

A Charger was never specifically a horse or a lightning bolt, which is what was drawn on the team’s first official shield. There’s no particular reason why the team came to be colloquially known as the “Bolts.” “Thunder Alley” is only tangentially related to a name that is itself tangentially related to whatever a “Charger” actually is. To make the situation muddier, a lot of Chargers fans outside StubHub Center wear Lucha masks.

Stadiums have been the crucible for the Chargers’ troubles. Team owner Dean Spanos fought with the city of San Diego for roughly 15 years to get a new stadium built to replace Qualcomm Stadium, a place that even San Diego legend Dan Fouts called a dump. Among dozens of proposals, none were ever good enough for San Diego nor the Chargers, and eventually a long game of chicken led us to where we are now: For three years, the Chargers will play in the smallest NFL stadium since the Oakland Raiders moved out of 22,000-person Frank Youell Field in 1965.

It’s strange to think that the Chargers’ old home, Qualcomm, was once regarded as an architectural marvel. The stadium ran the gamut of bad sports stadium features: obstructed seats, bare concrete, and home team locker rooms that were worse than most of the visitors’ quarters in the NFL. However, it was also considered a shining example of brutalist architecture, a structure that conveys both strength and functionality. When it was opened in 1967, it was cutting-edge, a forerunner of the trend of multi-purpose stadiums that could accommodate both football and baseball.

Qualcomm — initially called San Diego Stadium, then lovingly dubbed Jack Murphy Stadium after the longtime San Diego Union Tribune columnist — had the largest parking lot in the NFL, which gave it an unrivaled tailgate scene, one that begat Thunder Alley. And when the place rocked, its efficient, vertical design made sure that it ROCKED. After the first game ever played there, commissioner Pete Rozelle said, “It might be the best stadium I’ve ever seen.”

There’s an easy metaphor to make here about how time makes all things obsolete, and how a deteriorating stadium mirrored the team’s own struggles. But what the team has become — 4-12 in 2015, 5-11 in 2016, and 0-4 through four weeks — has a lot more to do with Spanos. After taking over as owner for his father in 1994, the same year the Chargers made their only Super Bowl, the team quickly declined.

Photo by Tom Antl

The Chargers wouldn’t record a double digit-win season again until 2004. After a franchise-record 14 wins in 2006, Spanos fired head coach Marty Schottenheimer because of a quick playoff exit and rumored insubordination. Another decade of squandered rosters under Norv Turner and Mike McCoy have culminated in the Chargers having won just nine of their last 37 games. Since 2010, they’ve made the playoffs just once.

Spanos might have been a sympathetic figure, but he withdrew from the public eye as the team struggled and the prospects of a new stadium sank to nothing. In his place, he propped up a PR consultant, and then fans withdrew as well.

Home games came to be dominated by opposing crowds. The last game ever played at Qualcomm was an awkward and somber loss in which the team was booed. A year before, when the team was still facing relocation, the players lingered on the field, celebrated a 30-14 win with fans, and reflected on what San Diego had meant to them.

Quarterback Philip Rivers gave an impassioned farewell to San Diego at the end of the 2015 season, then couldn’t muster up the energy to do it again in 2016, admitting that the farewell had “come and gone” by that point. The weariness of the final year was mutually felt.

Two years ago, I talked to Chargers, Raiders, and Rams fans about their feelings toward their favorite teams as they threatened to move. One of those fans was Andy Glickman, a former TV writer who lived in L.A., and yet swore he would stop rooting for the Chargers if they moved out of San Diego. He followed through on the threat, and more. Now he is often actively rooting against the team.

“Maybe I was so disgruntled, even as a fan, that the groundwork was laid for being a hater,” Glickman said. “As everything kind of went on — they drafted Mike Williams, and then he got hurt, and then I laughed.”

Robert Carlson still roots for the Chargers, though he lives in the San Diego area. He worked at a healthcare company that was on the same street as the Chargers’ practice facility. It wasn’t an easy decision to stay a fan, however, and most of his friends gave them up. His father is so mad at Spanos that his relationship with his son has become strained.

“It was one of the things that we bonded over. Now it's not there as much, and it's sad,” Carlson said. “He just gets so angry and negative towards them, I can't have a conversation with him about it. It just brings me down. It stinks because I used to hang out with him every week.”

That the Chargers left San Diego specifically for Los Angeles may be the team’s most spiteful act of all. In his statement announcing his decision to relocate the franchise, Spanos used more words to praise L.A. than to say goodbye to San Diego and its fans. The Chargers made a Fight for L.A. ad to court Angelenos, an endeavor that has only seemed to be successful at alienating San Diego. Whatever the Chargers are, it isn’t the diverse group of smiling regular folks seen in the ad saying things like, “Fight for Burbank.”

“If you're from Philadelphia and I move the Eagles, and I call them the Boston Eagles, you're not going to like that,” Glickman said. “Philadelphia to Boston is what, 90 miles? That's even closer than San Diego to L.A. You wouldn't even think of doing that.

“If you're trying to court San Diego fans, then don't fucking call them the Los Angeles Chargers.”

Photo by Tom Antl

The experience at StubHub Center is, truthfully, really good. The small concourse means you can get in the stadium, get food, and go to your seats quickly. The tickets were relatively cheap for “nosebleed” seats that won’t make your nose bleed at all. Every seat leans out over the action on the field, and the worst seat might be considered mediocre at another NFL venue, but I doubt it’d even be that bad.

The PA announcer warns you before kickoff that the cannon that shoots off after every Chargers score is very loud, but — oh boy — will it scare the shit out of you when the team kicks a short field goal you were only peripherally paying attention to. StubHub can get loud, and — though, yes, as many if not more Chiefs fans showed up for the Week 3 matchup in Carson — the Chargers fans that showed up make it sound as raucous as a stadium four times its size before the opening kick.

Their excitement dies down as the Chiefs scoot out to a 14-0 lead, but that’s to be expected. No one is under any delusions that the Chargers aren’t a bad team right now. When Rivers throws two interceptions before completing his first pass, everyone acknowledges, rightfully, that he’s playing like crap. But Chargers fans are proud of their crappy team, buster. And frankly, they’re tired of how the media have portrayed the crowds at StubHub by tweeting photos of empty seats before kickoff (they’re right, those photos are unfair).

“I was watching Inside the NFL, and they were like, 'Oh it only holds 27,000, the players are used to playing in front of 70,000,’” Brett Atkins tells me. “And I'm like, You sonovabitches, you haven't even been here yet. Why don't you come down here and experience it before you start trashing it.”

Photo by Tom Antl

Sandy and Brett Atkins

Atkins and his wife, Sandy, bought season tickets. Brett became a fan because he started working in San Diego during the Chargers’ Super Bowl run in 1994. Sandy is actually a lifelong Raiders fan, but she wears a Chargers jersey nonetheless, and she cherishes her chances to study a number of NFL teams.

“Wearing a Chargers jersey as a lifelong Raiders fan, isn’t that sacrilegious?” I ask.

“No.”

“Yes,” Brett says.

“I'm a football fan,” Sandy says. “I like all of the teams. I thought the Seahawks played awesome in the preseason, and so did the Chargers. They're really good, close games. When are you going to get this chance to be so close up?”

It’s hard to coax the same vitriol for Qualcomm out of fans that media and ownership seemed to have. Shittiness can even elicit something like pride as long as it’s shared shittiness. Solidarity is forged out of trying circumstances. Nick Frost and Jeff Blauer went to Chargers games for years despite how angry the team made them, if only because they were together. They brought their sons to the Chiefs game.

“Here's my son who was conceived in old Jack Murphy stadium,” Blauer says, pointing to Kyle Blauer, who had walked up to the conversation from the other side of their car.

“What?”

“You didn't know that?”

“It was in a porta-potty,” Frost says.

They can’t deny that the Chargers have a better home right now. Frost took his father to the Week 2 home opener against the Dolphins and says that his old man was blown away.

“My dad — who had pretty good seats, he had press level seats when he was in San Diego — he sat down and went, 'man,'“ Frost says. “You're just right there. It's intimate. If we can get people to get out of their seats and cheer a little bit more, we'll be good.”

Photo by Tom Antl

From left to right, Nick Frost, Alex Frost, Jeff Blauer, Kyler Blauer

That intimacy is intentional. Soccer stadiums put fans closer to the action by design. Bruce Miller — a senior architect for Populous, a Kansas City design firm that has worked with MLS on six stadiums — explained to me that NFL stadiums need deep sidelines for dozens of players, officials and cameramen to stand and walk, so their first rows tend to be set back and up high. Soccer players, on the other hand, sit when they’re not playing, so the first row of fans can come up almost to the pitch.

“Soccer is really an incredible experience because of the fans,” Miller says. “They drive the energy in the building. They create a lot of noise. There isn't a lot of pumped in music going on because the fans are literally chanting and singing and playing drums the entire 90 minutes.”

The fans power the stadium in soccer stadiums, essentially, and they could power football stadiums if StubHub is an indication. For the start of the second half, I sneak down to the first row of the north end zone where Walchef, Dotseth, and many of the same people I had met earlier in Thunder Alley are sitting. From there, I was practically eye level with the players when they lined up on the field, and a shout away — maybe 10 feet — from back of the end zone.

Early in the fourth quarter, as the Chiefs were backed against us facing first-and-10 in a 17-10 game, the crowd was as loud as it had been at any point since kickoff. Linebacker Jahleel Addae pointed right at us — Walchef, Dotseth, Boltman, NFL Road Warrior, and me, half-assedly maintaining professional decorum — and waved his arms to implore us as we made eye contact and obliged.

Then Kareem Hunt ripped off a 20-yard gain to give the Chiefs a first down at the 26-yard line. To reiterate: The Chargers aren’t very good. But for a few moments, that was very easy to ignore, presuming it mattered in the first place. Down at the bottom, I saw fans and athletes commune without middlemen, in a space that they defined themselves.

Photo by Tom Antl

Frost says he’ll have season tickets for as long as the team is at StubHub. After that, he’s unsure whether he’ll be able to afford seats when the the Chargers move into Los Angeles Stadium with the Rams.

“I figure for three years, we're going to have a great time, and after that we're probably done,” Frost says, then points at a palm tree next to his car. “But this tree is ours. We own this spot.”

Los Angeles Stadium won’t just be a place to watch football. It’ll be part of a “sports and entertainment district” on top of the old Hollywood Park Racetrack that has been compared to an NFL version of Disney World. Around the stadium there will be a 300-room hotel, a 6,000-seat performance center, 1.5 million square feet of retail and office space, 2,500 homes, and 25 acres of parks, all on a 300-acre plot. It is by far the most expensive sports development project ever — one that, even when adjusted for inflation, could have bought Lambeau Field’s original construction costs 566 times over.

We know what the future holds. Al Michaels will fawn over the facility at some point early in the 2020 season, and then it will be fawned over again — probably by an in-his-prime Tony Romo — when it hosts Super Bowl LVI. Beyond that, you probably won’t notice that the Rams and Chargers are playing in perhaps the greatest sports arena ever built. You’ll be watching on TV, and that experience has remained largely unchanged for almost 80 years — 11 guys in one set of jerseys squaring off against 11 other guys in another set of jerseys on top of a flat green expanse.

Photo by Tom Antl

You almost certainly won’t be getting in Los Angeles Stadium. The price of tickets to an NFL game has increased by nearly 50 percent in the last 10 years, according to Statista — from $62.38 in 2006 to $92.98 in 2016 — with newer stadiums generally commanding higher prices. Last year, you could see the 2-14 49ers in two-year-old Levi’s Stadium for $139 a ticket, or the 12-4 Chiefs in 34-year-old Arrowhead Stadium for $128.

Or better, you could stay home for nothing. Los Angeles Stadium will be conveniently located 20 minutes from LAX and feature 260 suites decked in the latest in executive couture. It isn’t being built for Rams and Chargers fans. It is a $2.66 billion bug lamp for suckers.

For the Rams and Chargers, that may be just fine. They’re at one end of a transaction and that’s that. Dotseth argues that the NFL outgrew San Diego, and it’s hard to disagree: “We were not, as a community, ready to put down $25,000 for a personal seat license. We were not ready to pay $75 for parking. We wanted everything to stay 1983, and it wasn't going to do that.”

The next question is whether the NFL may be outgrowing the NFL. The Chargers and Rams have faced the most ridicule of any two teams this season for their stadium and attendance problems, but even the 49ers, owners of a state-of-the-art facility, can’t put people in the stands. The team screwed up in so many ways. To name three: It was built an hour of traffic-hell outside San Francisco; the turf was one of the worst in the league; and the designers never considered that fans might not want to sit under searing sunlight for four hours.

For decades now, NFL owners have behaved as if they were impervious to market shifts and largely stopped focusing on football as their product after they negotiated revenue sharing and a fat TV deal. The Levi’s Stadium fiasco illustrates that there is ceiling to how much fans will put up with, however — it took a while, but we found it — and it should make the league think about what the future is.

If the 49ers and their five Super Bowl titles can’t fill a brand-new, cathedral stadium, then what chance will the Rams and Chargers and their combined one championship have in a new market? And if more people aren’t showing up at games, then what will the effect be on TV viewers when the stands are empty and games even sound like no one cares?

Photo by Tom Antl

It’s time to consider what the StubHub Chargers have to say about all this. For the next three seasons, they are a fresh petri dish, an experiment in what the NFL could be if it thought about fans first. They are starting from scratch, with nothing to build a fanbase with except a beleaguered history, a cool lightning bolt logo, and the most unique stadium in the league.

The StubHub Chargers are in a place where no NFL franchise really wants to see themselves, but for the time being they are also one of the most precious things in sports: an honest-to-god underdog, a team that can say “nobody believes in us” and mean it. They are playing in Jerryworld’s diametric opposite, somehow both a product of the NFL’s empire and an affront to it.

With roughly five minutes left, the Chargers with the ball and still down 7 to the Chiefs, Dotseth turns to Walchef and says, “Hey Shawn, we’ve got Philip Rivers, five minutes, two timeouts. What more do you want?”

Someone behind him says, “If only Ken Whisenhunt was back on the sideline.”

“Give me Norv,” someone else says.

“Ryan Leaf.”

“Billy Joe Toliver.”

“Ooh, that’s a good one,” Dotseth says. Meanwhile, the Chargers get two first downs on penalties, the first when Rivers underthrows yet another pass down the sideline to draw pass interference.

I really want this weird Stubhub Experiment to work. In my mind, the Chargers are a team with squatters’ rights. They have the freedom of no equity. They abide by that set of no-rules that seems to only apply to people with nothing. And if only they could play this right, they would empower their fanbase and build a new generation of fan — because who hasn’t felt beat down and hard-lucked and hungry?

Miller, a Chiefs fan, tells me the next day he couldn’t tell the game was being played in a dinky stadium in an L.A. suburb. “If you hadn't reminded me, I would not have known it was a venue with 20,000 seats vs. 60,000,” he says. “On television it looked and felt loud, intense.”

So it seemed in-person, too, until the Chargers inevitably punted on fourth-and-21. A pair of good runs by Hunt gave the Chiefs third-and-1 when the Chargers finally took their second timeout. Chargers fans largely didn’t stay to see if they would get the stop. At the two-minute warning, after the Chiefs converted, StubHub was mostly empty, and maybe 80 percent of those left were fans of the away team.

Walchef tells me then that he never leaves a game early. He says he has seen too many weird Chargers games to possibly get up before the final whistle. And almost on cue, Hunt breaks off a 69-yard touchdown run through the biggest running lane of the day.

Walchef laughs and looks straight ahead. I ask what his expectations are now for the team, and he says “nothing.” When he opened his restaurant he stopped betting on football and the Chargers.

“Since then my relationship with the team has changed. I get the opportunity to hang out with Jeff and his kids. I get to hang out with my friends. I’ve stopped focusing on whether they win or they lose.

“But hopefully the team does start winning. And I hope when they do it’s in this stadium.”

[rueur]

Morning Pages #18 (24.01.2017)

Tuesday 24th Jan - 8:37 a.m.

I think I’ll need to go and pick up some more of Bruno’s dry food because it’s completely finished now, and he still seems hungry even after some treats and a larger helping of his wet food. The issue is, that Emily left me $600 and for some weird reason, I only have about $200 left. Wait, let me check to make absolutely sure. I have $280 left, and when I buy the cat food that’ll probably go down to $250, and I’m not entirely sure I remember what I even spent that much money on! Where in the world did $400 go in a little over a month? I mean, I remember buying groceries maybe at least three times, so that’s like $60, some books and things for Christmas so...$20. That’s only $80 though. I didn’t even spend that much money on the nights I went out. Maybe all up I spent like $40 out. That’s $120. I spent exactly $21 at the op-shop and I only went to one op-shop. I have no idea where all that money actually went and it’s kind of really really frustrating. My myki fares?? My mobile. That’s $170, but we’re not even halfway to what I’ve actually spent. This is actually infuriating. Oh, $15 on a movie, $5 on the Panettone for Ikaros and I. $190. Plus, myki fares, probably like $240 or quite easily more than that. Mykis are so expensive and in hindsight, I feel I should’ve gotten a pass while I was staying here. $25 for my dinner with Evan, so $265. There’s still about $50-$70 unaccounted for. Oh damn, I’m not even paying rent and bills here and I’ve blown through nearly $400 in a month. I should’ve been keeping a book or something full of my spendings. See, I thought I was quite a thrifty person, but evidently I’ve indulged myself whilst being on holiday. And I still really feel like I haven’t indulged myself at all! I’ve been keeping myself super busy since I’ve moved here. $5 for lunches with Dan and Lucas, $275. This is honestly doing my head in, I have to stop.

I think I’ll definitely need to study and work again. I’ve only got under $800 left to live off of this year, and that’s going to go in no time. I won’t be able to buy clothes, I think. I’ll need to invest very responsibly in which months I’ll get a myki pass. Oh, $16 for bottles of wine. $291. We can round that up to $300. We’re getting closer now to figuring it all out. $20 left, but I can probably write that off to my myki as well. Public transport is draining me, honestly. $4 a day just to get anywhere, I mean I might as well have just stayed in Northcote this entire time. It was even my main expense for most of these last two years, commuting back and forth between the city and South Morang. I spent more money on my myki than I did on my school books, on my food, on myself in general.

I just found the photo that Evan and I posed for the night we were at Laundry. Oh lord, my face. I have so much cheek skin, it’s ridiculous. And my smile is lopsided, and my teeth look menacingly sharp. I’m pretty sure I saw the photographer grimace when he saw the photo pop up on his camera too. My face has been looking more and more menacing as of late, I think. It used to be soft and inviting, but since I’ve lost weight I feel like it’s gotten sharper and more pointed, direct. Except for my nose! My nose is so fat, I have a fucking island nose. And I am allowed to say that because it’s true, my nose is from an island. Also, my skin looks white through the mesh of the hoodie. Evan looks good though. His head’s tilted upwards, he’s got a hand on my shoulder. I feel like he knows how to pose for these quick shots, I feel like he’s had a lot more experience clubbing than I have. I’d say he definitely does. His parents seem to be a lot more rational and a lot less strict than mine.

I went home yesterday for about an hour and the whole time, my parents were on their computer watching videos. My mum disappeared upstairs at one point and I found her sleeping in bed. I tried to talk to her about myself but she just kept saying what she wanted to say, didn’t listen to me at all. In my frustration with her, I ended up just telling her straight out that I went clubbing. She lost her shit. She started yelling and it was impossible to get a word in, all I did was just get up and walk away. I don’t know if I’ll go back home until I absolutely have to now. Thankfully, my dad was downstairs and he had about twenty minutes to talk to me. We spoke about how I went clubbing, what it was like, and my potentially going again. He said he was relatively fine with it, even though he didn’t agree with it. My parents need to understand that at this point, I’m going to blame them more for not letting me have experiences rather than blame them for not stopping me from having bad experiences, because under their guidance I have done very well to have only lived a very very tiny amount. I told my dad that, and he seemed sympathetic to that. I think he’s also closer to understanding that we’re growing up in different times than my mum is. My mum basically called me a slut again twice during my three minute conversation with her. She basically told me not to move as fast with Evan as I did with Ikaros, and then also called me disgusting for going clubbing. I tried to tell her that I didn’t even move that fast with Ikaros at all. It was only two months into knowing him that I kissed him, and we only started having sex five months into knowing each other too. In terms of relationships, Ikaros and I really started off at a glacial pace. Evan and I have been moving faster if anything. I kissed him the night I met him. If only I had that kind of courage the night I met Ikaros. Funnily enough though, both guys were drunk on the same night and I was painfully sober.

Another thing is the assertion of both my parents and Ikaros that I drink too much, just because I like to drink alone on occasion. If anything, I think it’s safer to drink alone at home than it is to drink outside with a whole bunch of people you either don’t know, or can’t really rely on because they’re drinking too. I’ve also never gotten blind drunk, I’ve never blacked out, I’ve only puked once and that was straight away because of the taste and not because of the quantity. Both Ikaros and my dad have gotten alcohol poisoning and I never have, and they can say that I drink too much? It’s a double standard, honestly. Just because I’m a young lady, I honestly think it’s just because I’m a small, young lady and they just think it’s abnormal to see me with alcohol. I don’t want to invite that kind of perception of me. I mean, I know my parents undoubtedly will at any or every given opportunity (because they’re my parents and it’s their job to belittle me), but my boyfriend has no excuse.

Oh, another thing. Vanessa and Ryan broke up, or so I’ve heard, which is insane. They’ve been together for over four years at this point, I’m fairly certain. They were together when I was in Year 12 with Vanessa. They have always been the ultimate power couple to me. Ikaros and I always felt kind of paltry in comparison whenever we hung out with them. And now it turns out that they’re going through exactly the same stuff that we’ve been going through lately! I always felt bad that Ikaros and I would ruin the ‘Power couples’ chat we had going on Facebook, but it turns out it was being simultaneously ruined by all four of us. It’s so weird. It’s like nothing is constant anymore; I feel like my parents have called it quits right now. Though that would never happen, because my parents have a really good marriage and I know this because a psychic told them so.

I told my dad that the main reasons I don’t think it’ll work with Ikaros are first of all, that he can’t give me any real response to my art which is a massive dealbreaker. Being a writer and working in this creative field is a tough position to willingly put oneself in. My professional future is going to be riddled with rejection and there will be demoralisation at every turn. I need a partner who will support me creatively even when the world cannot. I just need that, and it’s painful just knowing that Ikaros can’t give that to me, but I have a feeling it would be infinitely more painful down the line when it actually happens. If I see something that devastating becoming a more than potential reality, I should nip it in the bud, right? Evan’s a reader, too. And talking to him, and to Lucas, it just makes sense that I should be with someone who likes reading. A writer with someone who likes to read, I mean if that ain’t a match made in heaven. The night I met Evan I told him that there are more writers now than there are readers. Even Ikaros had a go at writing, working on that comic with Cameron. Some people will set out to create content without supporting anybody else. The industry is oversaturated with creators, and fewer consumers. To keep up the illusion that I’m not working in vain until the day comes that I’m legitimately successful and actually NOT working in vain, I should have the close support of a ‘consumer’/reader. Evan actually once referred to himself as an ‘aspiring consumer’, during our date.

Secondly, Ikaros is a devout believer in divorce. The marriages in his family have not been good. The women in his family have been borderline insane, and so the men always end up leaving them. Hearing all of his stories of family woe, I’ve always been semi-terrified that he’ll just decide that I’m insane in the future and end up leaving me too. I don’t want that to be my future, but you can’t ignore patterns when they’re right there in front of you. I’m not too fond of the idea of marriage itself, but I think that if you let yourself enter a marriage, you should be committed to it for life. You should respect that commitment FOR LIFE. Because that is the definition of marriage. Divorces were only invented by arrogant royalty, kings who wanted multiple wives. It’s ridiculous that divorce is actually a thing. When I get married, it’s going to be forever.