#does this count as lo-fi

[sl33py-g4m3r]

90s computer room ✨🛰️ 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝟗𝟓 𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐠𝐢𝐚𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐜 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 🎧 exte...

a long dose of nostalgia~~

computer room in the 90s~~

[stargazedwinchester]

Soft Sounds | Dean

Summary: Dean mocks you for listening to nature sounds/lo-fi music while you sleep.

Based off of this request here, thank you! <3

Word count: 996

♱⁺. ⋆˙��⋆✧˙⋆⊹.♱

Sleeping with any sort of noise has always been so comforting for you, having to live with the loud sounds of the world, all of the trauma you've endeavoured keeps you awake at night, memories creeping back from the most horrific times in your life.

You bought yourself your own little white noise machine a week ago, it makes multiple different sounds, and your favourites are lo-fi music and rain/thunder sounds. It's not every night that you have to use this, though, but it really does help. Especially with sleeping alone, your brain loves to play tricks on you during your quietest hours.

Tonight, you turn on your machine, clicking the button on top to change which sound you'd prefer to hear tonight. Your door is slightly ajar, knowing that the brothers were in the kitchen sharing a couple of beers and catching up. You had already told them you're going to have an early night for once and try to catch up on a lot of sleep you've missed out on recently. Doing this could probably help your awful sleep schedule.

You change into your pyjamas, a t-shirt and shorts combo that you threw on from the night before. Trying to look good while you slept is never the first thought since you literally live with two men who couldn't give any less of a crap, also, you're not dating either of them. You climb into bed and throw the covers over you, moving your hair out of your face, and lay on your side. Scrolling through your phone, you try to focus on the sounds coming from your machine, and within minutes, you're knocked out.

♱⁺. ⋆˙✧⋆✧˙⋆⊹.♱

As Sam and Dean call it a night, Sam stays to watch a movie in the main room, whilst Dean makes his way down toward the bedrooms. He notices your bedroom door is still slightly open, and he assumes you're awake.

"Hey, Y/-" He pauses, seeing you're fast out with your phone screen lit up, the lights still on and some noise coming from a weird-looking radio. He frowns, not knowing what is going on. He very quietly makes his way into your bedroom, and locks your phone, placing it on your bedside table. He dims the lights as he pads on over to your radio. "What the Hell is this?" He asks himself, keeping his voice just above a whisper. He glances at the tiny screen that presents what's playing. "She sleeps to this?" He scoffs, and a small grin appears on his face. He looks back at you, huffing. "This is such a Y/N thing to have." He says, standing back up and glancing over at you. Why would she ever own something like this? He thought to himself. It's stupid.

Your positioning in bed makes Dean chuckle to himself. You quite literally take up the whole bed, sprawled out like a starfish. It's mostly funny to him because of how cute you look when you're completely conked out. Your hair in your face, your shirt slightly riding up your torso from the amount of times you've tried to get comfy. "Hold on, is that my shirt?" He laughs quietly, admiring how natural you are.

Dean usually goes for the typical blonde, blue-eyed type of girl. The ones that show that they know they're sexy, that they can get any man they desire, but you - you were different. You never gave a damn about how you looked. If someone liked you, you'd make sure they get every single side of you, every single flaw and weakness. Having Dean see you completely barefaced and look like you just collapsed on your bed was the least of your worries.

Dean's gaze hovers over you for another minute or so, he catches himself smiling, noticing how comfy you are. You shuffle, which scares him a little, panicking that you're going to wake up to him watching you sleep.

"Dean?"

"Y-yeah?" He whispers, taking his hands out of his pockets.

"What are you doing in here?" You groan, wiping your hair out of your face, barely opening your eyes. "I um, heard your little radio thing and... I got curious." He says, an awkward smile appearing on his full lips. He reaches up and scratches the back of his head. You hum quietly in agreement with what he said. Whether Dean understood or not, it didn't matter. "Are you staying?" You mumble, shuffling yourself to the side to make more room. You quietly pat the side of the bed, inviting Dean to join you.

His heart skipped a beat. Sharing a bed with the only girl who genuinely liked him for him? It's almost unbelievable.

"Are you sure? I can go back to my room-"

"Dean, just get in." You say, pulling the covers open for him. His eyes lit up and the smile on his face looked as if it had been slapped on. He takes off his flannel shirt revealing his dark grey t-shirt underneath, and also taking his jeans off down to his underwear. He gently sits down on your bed, ensuring there's still enough space for you. He keeps his space, though, not wanting to give any wrong ideas. "Why were you looking at my machine?" You say, and Dean grins. "It looks weird. Why do you sleep with it?"

"It's to help me sleep."

"It's to help me sleep," He mocks, shutting his eyes. "Just sleep in silence, it's not that hard." He adds, and you huff. "So funny." You grin, slowly moving closer toward him. "It's nice though, really nice..." He trails, his eyes are fully shut, and his body is relaxing. "Come here," He says, adjusting himself so he's lying slightly above you, and you move in to lay on his chest, your leg intertwined with his. He keeps his arm rested above his head, his other hand caressing your hair. "This is nice," He mumbles, almost instantly drifting to sleep.

[thejollywriter]

IT'S TIME TO LAUNCH THE BOOK

WELCOME FRIENDS, TO THE BEGINNING OF AN ADVENTURE! Allow me to introduce to you, DELILAH JONES; free-lance Robin Hood and bad-ass extraordinaire.

In the cyberpunk future of The Redwood Files, Delilah Jones is half film-noire private detective, and half western-gunslinger, who rides into a lawless town and fights the bullies and the bastards that hurt innocent folks.

This anthology contains SIX, count 'em SIX short stories and novellas detailing Delilah's Adventures.

Through a Dream, Lethally; When tech CEO Michael Lense decides to hijack the soft-RAM in his employees heads in order to make people do his bidding, things can get awful, FAST. Being forced, without your consent, to be an assassin or a thief or a sex worker, and more. But Lense also has the city under-thumb. Only Delilah's got the brute force to break Lense's control, and free the city from his cruel influence.

Happy Endings, Guaranteed; Delilah has a partner, and after a long day of nonsense, is looking forward to visiting them at work to unwind. Only to get to the club where her partner works, and discover that they've been KIDNAPPED! Delilah races around the city, squaring up with every underworld hard-ass she comes across following every lead to find her partner. Except nothing is what it seems, and a simple (but tragic) kidnapping turns out to be way more nefarious than Delilah expected. . .

Delilah's Heart; recovering from the last adventure weeks later, Delilah meets a handsome butch at a dive bar. Things between the two show promise, but the butch gets called back to work by an abusive bastard who violates and exploits his employees. The butch asks Delilah for help, and as she digs into it, discovers a deeply connected mafia bookmaker who uses that underground protection to kill and exploit people without fear of consequences. Delilah's the only one who can bring justice down on this bastard, but it threatens a gang war if she does. . .

Gutter Medicine; a gang of outta-town skinheads robs an impoverished clinic in a rough neighborhood. Delilah digs into the theft, and promises to recover the medicine, only to discover that the outta-towners are stirring up trouble to pave the way for an invasion from the South. A Kingpin from Los Angeles is hungry for expansion, and Redwood is fertile ground. Unless Delilah can stop the gang, and convince the Kingpin it'd be too expensive to expand beyond the safe borders of LA.

Restitution; Delilah's robbing a rich billionaire's museum-like mansion one night when she's caught by an unlikely sentry, a very old man who'd had plans of trying to embarrass the billionaire for reneging on a deal, and leaving the old man destitute. Delilah invites him to tell his story, and she volunteers to see justice done, according to Delilah's exacting standards.

In a Name?; every trans person's name comes from a personal place and an intimate choice. This story is about a young thief, with big dreams and a hard head, how she picked her name, and the day she was reborn into Delilah-fucking-Jones.

These stories have literally been years in the making. Some of them are personal, all of them are personal favorites, and this anthology is a collection I've worked very hard on.

Genre fiction is deeply important to me, and I love bringing queer characters to this space. Every story published in this book appeared first, both as ideas and in rough-and-final drafts on my patreon.

HERE'S HOW TO BUY AND SUPPORT THE QUEER NOVELIST IN QUESTION!

my ko-fi store: this is the most direct way to support me (a disabled queer novelist) and I get the biggest cut if you buy the e-book from this source

AMAZON! you want a paperback, YOU GOT A PAPERBACK

and lastly, if you want to see my writing in advance, get your name in the credits, or get special copies in advance, my patreon

thank you for your support, and happy reading <3

[tmntkiseki]

New original character just dropped, fellas.

Her name is Cecilia Ascari, and her story is... pretty specific to my 2003 universe? Basically put, at some point after Turtles Forever, Karai starts to behave oddly and seems to have new goals, ones that she is deliberately keeping Chaplin in the dark about. Chaplin ends up stealing a whole bunch of heavily encrypted data he discovered hidden within the Foot's mainframe and Cecilia here, who was originally a low-ranked genin, agrees to serve as the scapegoat so he can continue monitoring things from within the Foot. She delivers the data to the Turtles and ultimately ends up fighting alongside them against enemies old and new.

Cecilia can be easily described as a wallflower--very shy, quiet, and tends to be awkward around strangers. However, she was one of the most ferocious Foot Ninja among those in her rank and her face is said to look like a demon in battle, scaring both friend and foe alike. Concerning, however, is her view of her life; she sees herself as little more than a weapon to be pointed at whoever her master wishes to and that her life is completely and utterly expendable, often resulting reckless actions in combat. Not only that, but she has spent so much of her life focused on training with her naginata that, outside a hobby of making jewelry and accessories, she has little that she enjoys and is clearly depressed because of it. Thankfully, though, her time spent with the turtles results in her placing more value in herself as a person and finding things that she genuinely enjoys, giving her a new will to live and a resulting in a gentler, quietly cheerful personality taking root.

Other bits of trivia

Named for Eliza Cecilia Beaux.

Birthday is July 29th (she's around the same age as the turtles.)

Short for her age, only standing at 5'1" (Unlike my other OC, Iseult, this is a sore spot for her.)

Of Italian descent.

Favorite color is green

Favorite foods include pastries, Japanese sweets, and hot chocolate

Besides jewelry-making, she later picks up pottery, soap making, and writing as hobbies.

Preferred music genres are New Age, Jazz, and Lo-Fi

Closest bond among the turtles is with Leonardo, who she spars with regularly and tends to confide in. Michelangelo, who helped her discover some of her hobbies, is a close second. She also gets along well with Venus and Primavera as well, with her least developed relationships being those with Raphael and Donatello.

Not sure if this counts as a spoiler since she is an OC, but she does end up becoming a turtle later on. Won't explain the how, why, or circumstances surrounding it.

[nerdieforpedro]

Don't know what you mean

Part one of the Roc & Roc Series

Tim Rockford x plus size female reader (Doc)

This fic is for general audiences.

My blog overall is 18+ MDNI

Main Masterlist / Tim Rockford Masterlist / Roc & Doc Series

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: obsessive behavior, Stealing, discussion of stomach contents, food references (did you think I wouldn't?), mentions of crimes

Summary: You know it's wrong, but you haven't stopped taking them for months. He's going to find out one way or another. How are you going to handle it when he figures it out?

Notes: Because 2024 appears to be my year of writing challenges, I decided to use a prompt I saw on @creativepromptsforwriting blog for a weekend game. It was fun using a prompt but at the same time hard? I usually don't use prompts, All my craziness is marinating up there. 😎 I also took this as an opportunity to write Tim Rockford! I've actually wanted to write him for a while, but wasn't sure how. Here we are. Anything about police and Med. examiners I know from TV and for that I apologize in advance.

I got #799 which gave me the following prompt: "Sometimes it was much easier just to steal something than to ask for it." I don't know if I stuck to it or not. 🫢

As your friend told you the other day when you were grinning about how it’s been three months since you started taking his pens, “You should just tell him you like him. You’re pulling his metaphorical pigtails.” 

She also told you, “that isn’t pride you feel when you do it and see him flustered. Think lower Doc.” 

“You’re thinking lower, in the gutter! It’s just a pen and eventually, I will figure out what restaurant it is. I don’t need to ask him and as good as a homicide detective he is, he still has no idea who took all his pens thus far.”

Your friend calls you a weirdo for taking and keeping this man’s pens. You admit, it’s not something a sane person, let alone what a medical examiner would do. But also, he’s gotta notice eventually right? Then Detective Rockford will be hungry, because murder makes him famished and you can suggest Chinese food. Then you’ll know the name of the damn place because he should be getting all the perks and rewards from whatever little hole in the wall food place this is. It’s been bugging you that you’ve asked others in the bullpen and they don’t know, how can they not know, haven’t they worked with him longer than you have?

Fast forward to one late night of many in your office, writing up reports on your findings and listening to some lo-fi music from your bluetooth speaker. You’re trying to find ways to describe the victim's stomach contents. Bile of course, but noodles, part of a fortune cookie and a few pieces of beef that you could make out. It also had arsenic in it, high levels to where they had clearly been poisoned. Your stomach is growling and you’re just trying to finish this last report before going to get something to eat. Your fingers dance across the keys as you write, wondering if it’s going to be another burger or maybe a taco tonight. Heavy steps echo down the hallway toward your office, you’re familiar with them and have come to welcome them on the frequent late nights.

The trenchcoat is what you see first. It’s not your first time seeing it, but it always made you giggle, his elbow leans on the doorframe as does his hip. He has his glasses on, rare when he’s not reading or editing his murder boards. His broad frame dilled the majority of the doorway as you glanced up from your screen. He threw you a nod as you waved him in, long legs bringing him to one of the two chairs in front of your desk. “Hey Doc, still working?” He relaxed into the chair, leaning a little to his right, his brown eyes scanning your desk. It was actually neat for once. You’d taken the time to clean and organize it after not being able to find a case file. Can’t let that happen again.

“Yeah. I’m surprised you aren’t Rockford. I’m finishing up with the poisoning. There’s nothing specific about the arsenic though. It’s so common it could have come from anywhere. It’s the concentration that’s the kicker. That what you’re here about Columbo?”

“The case always comes first, but I have a different case I’m working on. It’s a subtle one. One that was clearly thought out and took planning. And I’m surprised you know about Columbo, that’s good. I’ll also accept the compliment, like me he had a full head of hair.” Tim explains leaving you curious. You couldn't recall another intersecting active case. The others were fairly straightforward. Blunt force trauma, stabbings, a couple drownings and animal attacks. How people still don’t get to leave bears and coyotes alone is beyond you. “It’s not a homicide. It’s theft. Very petty theft.” He’s rolling his wrist while he explains, almost like he’s hypnotizing you, but your own cough brings you out of it. “I don’t understand what would motivate a person to continually do something so benign but also annoying.” He grins, “You alright there Doc? Want me to get you a bottle of water out of your mini-fridge?” He stands and grabs himself one, offering you one without waiting for your answer. You just nod and cough a bit more, clearing your throat before gulping the water down.

The time has likely come. You’re sure he knows you’ve been taking his pens. So petty, not befitting of a well-adjusted adult, but you’re not are you? Tim reclaims his seat and scoots it back to allow for him to spread his legs to set his elbows on. He learns forward and takes a swig from the bottle. A little of the water gracing his bottom lip to which he licks off. “Thanks Rockford, for the water.” You manage to exhale after holding your breath and sit back in your own chair, trying to move away from him in such a small space. He’s still on the other side of your desk, but he’s too imposing and you feel guilty. 

“You’re welcome Doc. Now, this culprit has been tricky and I honestly didn’t notice at first. I’ve always been pretty absent-minded when it came to pens. I usually use the same one until the thing doesn’t write anymore. But, Stevenson, even though he is a tool, did buy me two sets of black ball-point Sharpie pens. He was a bit of an ass saying I needed those to read my own notes. They can’t be chicken scratch and a thin wisp of a line.” Tim rattled on. You wondered if this is what he did with his suspects, left them dangling while he had them circling and spinning in their heads like you are now. The water bottle crunches in your hand from the pressure you’re putting on it and you set it down, opting to take hold of the armrests of your chair. You had splurged on a wider one for yourself that would accommodate your hips and thighs since you do spend many an hour dictating and typing notes. Rockford’s head cocked to the side as he watched you.

“Tell me why I see those same pens here on your desk in your little cup here and why you’ve been taking them Doc. I know it’s you, I just want to know why. You’re…” Tim paused for a moment, “particular but I didn’t think petty. I also can’t think of anything we've disagreed or had an issue with each other about.” Closing your eyes, you knew this moment would come, it’s so stupid. You’re a grown woman stealing pens, but it was easier than just asking. Your friend had been right, you’ve got too much pride.

“Tim.” You start, you’ve got to sell it. Hard. You lean forward and mimic his body language, elbows on your desk, trying your damnedest to look calm. Your armpits feel hot though. “Your pens are better than mine. I could have went out and bought them myself. I’m not hurting for money, but they were right there. I got one, and I just had to have more of them. They write so smoothly and fit in my hand just right.” You even gestured your hands like you were scribbling on top of a folder. This had to be the end of it right? “I’m sorry I took your pens. I will buy you new ones and work will be a little awkward but it will pass eventually.” You shrugged your shoulders and smiled, trying to reassure him. It would be totally weird working with him now, especially since he’s the lead homicide detective on so many cases, but this is the grave you dug yourself. 

Rockford’s face could have been made of stone. You swear the entire time you spoke he didn’t move. “Hmmm…Thanks for the apology Doc but what is the real reason? Because it was over months and you gave yourself away every time you watched me look for a pen. Even offered me one yourself at times. I kept running through different motives you could have but none of them make any sense.” Tim reached into his coat pocket and removed his handy notebook. Turning to presumably, where said motives are written, and showed you where he had crossed out the following:

Botched case?

Improper conduct?

Evidence misuse?

Autopsy issues?

Stopping by her office without notice?

Talking to her in general?

All were crossed out and you felt that same feeling of pride in your chest and belly. You remembered your friend’s words, “that isn’t pride you feel when you do it and see him flustered. Think lower Doc.” But it was kinda cool to be in the lauded detective’s notebook. He thought about you and looked back on your interactions. As it relates to you stealing his pens, but still thought about you. It’s nice in a twisted way. 

Tim snapped his fingers and put his notebook back, standing up and pressing his palms down on your desk. “This is a really weird game to play, Doc. Do you have some sort of grudge against me? If so, why? If not, then what is it? What’s your goal here?”

You shrink back from his intense stare, eyes boring into you. Gripping onto your armrests again, you just stare at his chest, speaking to it rather than him. It was easier to not see the disappointment on his face as you feel so ashamed. 

“It was easier to lift your pens while I looked in your office for that damn menu! Why don’t you have one?! You eat there at least twice a week, I figured I’d take something and you’d ask me why I’d been in your office and then I could bring it up, but after the first month, it felt really weird and I liked seeing the great Tim Rockford panicking over a pen! I’m crazy, okay?!” As you spoke, Tim grew a shit eating grin that presented itself to you when you finally met his gaze.

“You could have just asked Doc. I don’t have the menu anymore because I memorized the number and address along with the food options. Because I eat there so often.” The low rumble of laughter as he stood to his full height made you cover your face. It was worse than imagined, you might leave in a huff and ignore you except for cases. But this was worse, he is laughing at you. A large hand pats your shoulder, “Doc, you’re hilarious. You’re in your head too much. Next time just ask and stop stealing my damn pens. You are buying those pens you promised me though.”

“You’re not mad Rockford?” You asked, your face felt like an inferno as you still hid it. Tim pulled his hands back and walked around to your side of the desk, leaning on it as he moved your hands. You still couldn’t make eye contact with him again.

“Having my pens stolen isn’t the worst people have done over the years. It is one of the weirdest though. Come on, I was going to go get something to eat. I’ll show you where the Chinese food place is.” Rockford assured you and finished his water before tossing in the trash can. He stood by the door and waited for you to save your work, and put on your coat. You grabbed your bag to follow Tim out.

“I’ll have your pens for you later this week. I promise and I’ll pay for the food tonight.” You offered as Tim held the door open for you, making your way to your own car he stopped walking. 

“Where are you going? I’m not hopping in a pen thief’s car. What might happen to me in there? Thievery could just be the tip of the iceberg with you. We’re taking mine.” He chuckled and you rolled your eyes. 

“You’re going to call me that for a long time aren’t you? And I wouldn’t harm you. I’ve been stealing your pens, that doesn’t translate to murder. Damn Homicide detective.” You mumbled the last sentence. Hopefully he doesn't really think you’d murder him right?

“Yes I will, you thieving doctor. Petty crimes often lead to major ones. You know that. Get in, we’re getting some lo mien.” Rockford opened your door and you hopped in, excited to finally taste the Chinese food again. Tim smiled softly at your excitement and started the car, taking off into the night. White take out boxes awaited you both.

Part Two

Pens that fit into Rockford's hand ✍🏼: @sin-djarin @secretelephanttattoo @maggiemayhemnj @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @megamindsecretlair @magpiepills @fhatbhabie @yorksgirl @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @rhoorl @laurfilijames @avastrasposts @linzels-blog @frenchiereading @goodwithcheese @pamasaur @morallyinept @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @readingiskeepingmegoing @guelyury @pascalsanctuary @legendary-pink-dot @musings-of-a-rose @clawdee @pedritapascal @sp00kymulderr @grogusmum @alltheglitterandtheroar @agentjackdaniels @pedroshotwifey

[sage-nebula]

Sonic Music HCs

Sonic: Punk rock. Punk music tends to be anti-establishment, anti-authoritarian, and often pro-environmentalism. These are all core beliefs of Sonic's, and so the lyrics would resonate with him deeply. Sound-wise, fast guitars and loud drums are his bread and butter. If music doesn't make your blood race and bones rattle, what's the point? He hates ballads; anything too slow or sappy puts him off. (Though, he has sang slower punk songs, such as "Roadside" by Rise Against, to Tails as lullabies when they were younger.)

Tails: Also punk rock, because it's what he grew up listening to thanks to Sonic. Plus, punk rock songs tend to be loud and busy enough to provide his brain with the stimulation necessary to allow him to focus on one project at a time. That said, Tails is fine with most music and thinks there's something to like in just about any genre.

Knuckles: Honestly could not remember ever hearing a song even once in his life before traveling down to the surface for the first time. Sure, birds would sing and chao would bang on drums, but a full on song? No. That said, when he IS introduced to music he likes instrumental hip-hop. Songs with lyrics frustrate him if he can't tell what the lyrics are, so he likes instrumentals with nice beats.

Amy: Amy loves anything you can dance to. Pop and hip-hop are the big ones, but she also thinks swing music and jazz can be really fun to listen and dance to, too. She's pretty amiable about music too, but she doesn't like anything that sounds depressing or moody. Bright, fun, happy songs are her style.

Cream: On the record, Cream only listens to classical music that Vanilla introduced to her basically as soon as she was born. Off the record she also listens to everything Amy listens to, and is very invested in learning all the dance routines.

Big: Has no preferences really, basically anything is fine with him, but he does have an impressive collection of bluegrass albums.

Shadow: His music taste was cultivated fifty years ago on the Space Colony ARK when Maria would play her favorite records and he would listen to them with her. However, listening to those songs now hurts him in a way he doesn't want to deal with, so he doesn't. He also thinks most modern music sounds like garbage, so honestly, he just doesn't listen to music period. That said, he does enjoy a wide variety of podcasts, from trivia and history ones to true crime ones. He doesn't like talking to people, but he does like to listen to people talking to other people who aren't him.

Rouge: She likes whatever is most advantageous to like in the given moment. She has a vast array of music knowledge so she can con her way into any fan space or event. That said, the music playing most often in her bar is R&B or oldies.

Omega: He likes listening to things like recordings of car crashes, building and tank explosions, malfunctioning machinery, air raid sirens, etc. He insists this counts as music. Rouge advises against arguing with him, and Shadow hopes you try.

Vector: He's a ska man through and through, but he does dabble in a wide array of other genres too, to expand his music education. The only thing he won't touch is EDM. He thinks Omega's car crash recordings have more musical merit than EDM.

Espio: Espio claims to only listen to indie artists that most people have never heard of and Charmy says he made up on the spot. When asked to describe the genre, he never can. He actually listens to a mixture of emo rock and rap.

Charmy: Pop, but specifically the Kidz Bop versions because Vector doesn't want to have to explain cuss words, and also because Espio hates Kidz Bop with a passion. He also likes EDM when he's mad at Vector for something.

Whisper: Lo-fi is her absolute favorite; it calms her down even in her worst mental health moments. But she also used to be a big fan of alt rock, and the wisps remember how she has a beautiful deep register for R&B.

Tangle: Just about everything and anything, but power metal is a particular fave and it's her dream to be able to play "Through the Fire and Flames" on a real guitar. (Note: she does not know how to play guitar.) She will lose her voice screaming metal at karaoke and will go right back to do it again the next night.

Jewel: Also a fan of power metal; similar music taste is one of the first things she and Tangle bonded over. She's fine with other music, but when she's listening to music while serenely completing paperwork, there's power metal shredding in her earbuds.

Lanolin: She likes a smattering of different things, but her go-tos tend to be more indie / alternative fares. Think things like Sleeping at Last for instance. Heavy guitars and drums aren't her style: she prefers more melodic pieces.

Eggman: EDM. If it isn't made by machines, he doesn't think it's worth listening to.

Starline: Only the most distinguished classicals; nothing low-brow peasants would listen to. Eggman's taste in "music" was the only turn-off Starline had.

Surge: Thrash metal, speed metal—if it is loud, aggressive, and full of screaming, she is all over it. She hates anything sentimental, slow, or sweet.

Kit: Thrash metal and speed metal, because that's all Surge will listen to, and the idea of listening to something else on his own has never occurred to him.

[darekasama]

Writeblr Interview Tag

Thank you for the tag, @sableglass!

Short stories, novels, or poems?

To read, all of the above. To write, I’m very good with journal articles and short stories but if left unchecked some of them might turn into giant novels.

What genre do you prefer reading?

Fantasy, romance, adventure, but really anything that brings me into a world different from ours. Also I have a weakness for dragons and animals in general, so anything that tangentially involves them is on my radar.

Are you a planner or a “write as I go” kind of person?

I am trying really hard to be a planner! My first big story project crashed because I tried to write as I go, resulting in a mess of scenes with the same ideas in five different pages at the same time (including the backside of hundreds of drawings) and too many re-starts to count. Lots of re-writing that didn’t fix the core issues, and ultimately more material added to the chaos. It did not work out.

My current WIP, Project TL, is going at a slower pace, but this time I made sure to organise everything from the start so it’s actually pretty neat and I have no trouble navigating my files or editing!

What music do you listen to while writing?

Sometimes it’s a song, sometimes just music, sometimes ambient sounds. Genre doesn’t matter either, as long as it is appropriate to the scene. In general terms, if the song/music reminds me of good memories, then it is on my list.

For a while I listened to BTS, then to a piano cover of Heaven Official’s Blessing, then to the  lo-fi hip-hop radio. It really, really varies.

Favorite books/movies?

I love all of Licia Troisi’s books, but especially the Chronicles of the Emerged World trilogy. I grew up with her books!

As for movies I think the LOTR movies could be my favourite.

Any current WIPs?

One! In short, Project TL is about dudes, drama and dinosaurs.

What happens if the mentor isn’t there to guide the young noble boy? Very avoidable teenage adventures of course! From getting his nose into the local drama to exploring dangerous forests, all while trying to find some great treasure to bring home. Also, a possible romance with his roommate (who can shapeshift into a dinosaur for reasons you’ll have to read later to know)...

If someone were to make a cartoon out of you what would your standard outfit be?

^ Something of the sort, I suppose. My wardrobe is very basic.

Create a character description of yourself: 

I'm shy! My drawings are all you'll get :P

Do you like incorporating actual people you know into your writing?

Not really. Some aspects of people yes, but the people themselves are a big no-no. I prefer detaching the real person from the behaviour of a fictional character. I don’t even like to use names of people I know in stories.

Are you kill happy with your characters?

Sometimes I put them in very dangerous situations, but I actually prefer when they get out of them. Killing my darlings feels very bad. I want them to live happily, or to at least get a happy ending. They do deserve it.

Coffee or Tea while writing?

In the winter, tea! This year I found a very nice tea shop and got many different flavours to try. Some were a hit and some less so, but I'm pretty excited to start drinking again hot stuff once summer is over!

In any season other that winter, water and fruit juice. This girl does not have what it takes to drink sparkly water.

Slow or fast writer?

Slooooooow! I like to edit a lot. Althought English is not my first language, I feel like I got the grasp on ho to make a sentence flow well.

Where/who/what do you draw inspiration from?

A lot comes from knowledge I acquired over the course of my life. Often I ask myself how a situation could go differently, or why things have to be a certain way. Then boom, a story is born. Most of them last a short few minutes while others make it to the end of the day. Only a handful stay with me for a lifetime, and those I hold very dearly.

If you were in a fantasy world, what would you be?

Let me be a cat! They have the perfect life literally in any world. Eat fancy (or not), lounge in the sun for hours, strut around the town, climb high places and even get loved for just meowing. I wish my life was like that.

Most fav book cliche:

Saving the damsell in distress. Does not have to be literal, but I love it when someone in trouble gets a helping hand!

Least favorite cliche:

Miscommunication. Please just talk to each other!!!!

Favorite scene to write?

Quiet moments together. Comfortable in each other’s presence, maybe joking a little, maybe opening up about what they really think… So many possibilities in a simple stress-free interaction.

Also cuddles and physical closeness in general.

Reason for writing?

I must release my visions into this world.

Tag list (because I think you are all cool people):

@mr-orion @glitched-dawn @silentstaresfanficandfanart @theverumproject @uraniumwriting @princefluph @xenascribbles @wordsandwordsbyme @shenaniganssketched @creative-author @thedeerwight

[fandomgirlz01]

This Can’t Be The End Pt. 2

Nick Stokes X Reader

Imagine on my fandom instagram?: No

Prompt?: No

Request?: No

Requested prompt?: No

Edited: Yes

Word count: 5,890

Ko-fi

Masterlist

Warnings here

You can listen to the story be read out loud here. {Coming Soon}

Post Date: July 23rd 2023

Post Time: 12:31 AM

Summary: Based off of: Season 5 episodes 24 and 25 When Nick gets kidnapped, the reader is forced to fear the worst for her husband as she and the team work the case with hopes of bringing him home safe. 

Reader’s Pov:

When I finally decide to get up from the couch, I wrap the blanket around my shoulders before walking out of the break room. I walk down a few halls in search of someone I can talk to and I soon find Warrick talking with Hodges. 

I walk up behind him with my blanket still wrapped around me and Warrick looks down before putting an arm around me. I lean into him and Hodges smiles at me softly before continuing to talk to Warrick. 

“I’m using your track and wheelbase measurements, plus or minus five percent to account for rain-shadowing and/or drying effects,” Hodges explains as the program does its work. 

“All right, print it out,” Warrick tells him and he nods before typing on the computer. 

“Hey. How are you doin’?” Warrick asks me and I shrug. 

“I mean, I slept. It was only half an hour, but I slept. I just want Nicky back…” I tell him with a frown and he nods in understanding. 

“I know, mamas, I know. We’ll get him back. I promise you that,” Warrick tells me as he rubs my shoulder. 

“Here’s the list,” Hodges speaks up as he holds it up and Warrick takes one arm off of me to reach for it. 

“Thanks, man,” Warrick replies as he takes the stack of the printed list. 

“Yeah. Sure. Whatever will help find Nick. What’s your next step from here?” Hodges asks as he crosses his arms. 

“Imma head over and see Rachel. She said she’d show me the traffic cameras in the area,” Warrick tells him and he nods. 

“Well, good luck. Don’t worry, y/n, we’ll bring Nick home to you,” Hodges promises me and I smile weakly at him. 

“You comin’ with me?” Warrick asks as he pulls back to look at me. 

“Yeah. I suppose so,” I agree with him and he nods. 

“Alright, then. Let’s go. Bye, man,” Warrick replies as he stands up and Hodges gives him a nod before going back to his work. 

He turns me around and together we start walking towards Rachel’s office. Soon we walk in to see Rachel typing something up on her computer. She turns when she sees movement and gives us a small smile. 

“Hi, guys. I have the footage loading up right now,” she tells us as she stands and rolls another chair over. 

“Here you are, y/n,” she says as she points down to the chair. 

“Warrick, you can take that chair over there,” she tells him as she points to one at another desk and sits back in her seat. 

“Thanks,” he says sarcastically before walking over to grab the chair. 

He walks back over, pulling it along with him before settling down to my left. He starts to look at her screens and analyze them as it seems the program is up. 

“I need you to bring up the traffic cameras in a three block radius between Flamingo and Koval in the last 24 hours,” he explains to Rachel as he stands up and leans over the table. 

“We only buffer the video for the past few hours,” she quickly informs and he looks at her. 

“I can take you back as far as 10:37pm,” she continues and he rocks back before taking his seat again bringing his hand up to his chin. 

“That’s good enough. Our guy was taken around 11:00,” he tells her as all the cameras pop up simultaneously. 

Together we all look for a few minutes and nothing really seems to jump out at us. My leg starts to bounce as I start to feel more anxious and Warrick gently puts his arm around me. Rachel then pulls up two specific cameras and we watch them. 

“Scan forward. We’re looking for a big truck,” he tells Rachel as he lets go of me to point at the screen. She types something on her keyboard, doing just as he says. 

“How about that one? Looks like a Suburban.” She brings the video on the left to a pause. 

Warrick takes a moment to look at what she points out before looking down at his list that Hodges had given to him. He flips through the pages for a few minutes before looking back up at the screen. 

“It’s on the list,” he confirms as she pushes play again. 

“Whoa, he’s really movin’,” he comments as we continue to watch. 

“Wait a moment… that one, the big Ford,” his voice escalates just a tad, making me jump lightly, but hope flows through me. 

“Follow it,” he decides and Rachel nods. 

“The expedition truck left the area around 11:15,” Warrick starts to explain as he looks over his paperwork. 

I look up around the table of people who have become my family. Sara takes a drink of her coffee and I resist the urge to cry when I think about how Nick would lean over to me to make some sarcastic comment about what she was drinking. 

“Definitely in a hurry. Took a right off Koval onto Tropicana, crossed Las Vegas boulevard onto the 15 south and then it drove off the grid,” Warrick continues to explain as I snap out of my thoughts. 

He puts his paper down and leans back before scooping my hand into his and giving it a squeeze. If Nick wasn’t the best at knowing my emotions, I’d say Warrick is a good close second. Both can almost always sense when I’m upset and need a good cuddle. 

“At least we have a general direction,” Grissom comments from where he sits. 

“Great, so Nick could be anywhere from Green Valley to Seven Hills to Arizona,” Sara comments in a very sarcastic, dead-end tone and I let out a small puff of air. 

“Sara, not really the time for sarcasm, yeah?” Catherine lightly scolds her as Warrick gives my hand another squeeze. 

“No. It’s ok. She’s right. He could be literally anywhere at this point…” I speak up and everyone nods along understandingly. 

“That is assuming he was even in that truck,” Greg adds on as he leans back in his chair. 

“Well, according to Hodges, the white fibers on Nick’s vest were cotton with traces of ether…” Catherine explains after taking in a breath. 

When she says that, I instantly close my eyes and images of Nick putting up a fight with the person plays though my mind. I feel another squeeze to my hand and it pulls me back to the real world as I open my eyes. 

I look at Warrick and he gives me a tight smile, silently clearly asking me if I’m ok. I hesitate but nod, telling him I’m fine and he turns back to the table. 

“Ether? That’s old school…” Sara comments after a moment of silence. 

“Yeah, stuff is volatile. Flammable. Outside of meth cooks, no one uses it anymore,” Warrick adds on his two scents and the room slowly gets warmer. 

“People use what they know,” Grissom adds as he starts to fidget a bit in his chair. 

“All right, so, where are we on possible suspects?” Catherine asks as she takes her glasses off and looks at Greg. 

“So far, none of Nick’s active or recent cases stand out. And his old stalker’s still behind bars,” Greg explains his findings and I start to shake my leg. 

“Are you 100% sure Nigel is still behind bars, Greg?” I ask, sitting up as I slowly seem to grow more agitated. 

“100%, y/n, I saw him on live video footage myself,” Greg replies and I sigh as I slump back into my chair. 

“Maybe it’s a random act,” Sara comments and I immediately sit back up. 

“Well, that’s possible because whoever staged the crime scene couldn’t have known that Nick was going to respond,” Catherine agrees and I shake my head in disbelief, even though I know what they’re saying is perfectly logical. 

“Yeah, it’s just bad luck he did,” Warrick agrees from next to me, making my leg bounce more. 

“Sara, what about the coffee cup?” Grissom asks as he sets his paperwork back on the table. 

“No DNA or prints on the cup or in the bag,” Sara replies in a matter-of-fact tone. Just then, we hear some sort of commotion going on out in the lobby.

“Don’t touch the edge of it!!” We all hear Hodges scream. 

“You got to sign…” another unknown voice yells out. 

“Security! Security!” Hodges yells out again and Grissom’s the first to get up to his feet. 

We all quickly follow behind him and he runs out to the lobby. Once in the lobby, we can see Hodges and a security guard fighting an individual who holds a package of some sort. 

“Get your freakin’ hands off me, man!” The individual yells out as he fights the security guard. 

Hodges clearly gets a hold of the package and moves over to the desk to inspect it. Grissom stops in the doorway, watching in confusion. 

“Hey! I told you, you gotta sign for that!” The guy that’s still fighting security yells out. 

“What are you doing, Hodges?” Grissom expertly asks what we’re all wondering as we watch from behind him. 

“Guy comes in here with a package with no return address,” Hodges tries to explain as he tries to catch his breath. 

“You’re violating my rights! I want a lawyer!” The delivery guy yells out as he continues to fight with security. 

“Shut up!” Catherine admonishes him as she points at him and he does just that, looking shocked. 

“Way the guy was pawing that envelope, I figured I better get it away from him before he wipes off all of the trace,” Hodges starts to explain himself again and Grissom looks at him, confused. 

“What trace?” Grissom asks, confusion clear in his tone. 

“Oh! It’s about Nick…” Hodges calms down right away as he breaks the news. 

We all step forward when Grissom does only to see what it says on the envelope; 

Crime lab 

3057 Westfall AVE. 

Las Vegas, NV 89109

RE: STOKES

Silence falls as I let out a small gasp when I see my own last name on the envelope. Warrick grabs me and pulls me into his side as Grissom puts gloves on. He then picks the package up very carefully and takes a second to look over the details before turning to Catherine. She opens her mouth like she wants to say something, but nothing comes out and she shakes her head. 

“Let me do this,” Grissom says before pushing past us and walking off.

Nick’s Pov: 

When I come to, I try to sit up but only end up hitting my head against a hard surface. I groan as I lift my hand to my head and it takes me a moment to realize where I am. When I do, I quickly jump and there’s a thud as my hand hits the top. 

I look around me, trying to figure out what’s going on and find a glow stick. I grab it so I can get a better look around and soon start to breathe heavily before I feel around me some more, only to find my service weapon. 

I grab it and bring it up to where I can see it. I pull the clip out and see it’s still full, making me sigh. I put the clip back in and cock the gun before setting it back down. I then pick the glow stick back up and look around some more before knocking at the glass. 

I reach down to my side again and feel something else. Once again I pull it up so I can see what it is and it’s a tape recorder. I click the play button and at first it’s just static, but soon a voice is leaving me a message. 

“Hi, CSI guy. You wondering why you’re here? Because you followed the evidence. Because that’s what CSIs do. So breathe quick, breathe slow, put your gun in your mouth and pull the trigger. Any way you like, you’re going to die here. Okay,” the voice explains and then the tape shuts off. I slowly start to try and break my way out, but when I can’t I scream only to start sobbing.

Y/n’s Pov:

We all watch through the window to the lab as he walks in and starts to feel around it. When he’s sure it’s not dangerous, he fully sets it down and grabs an x-acto knife. He carefully slices into the top before putting the knife down and picking up a flashlight. 

He turns the flashlight on before holding the package open from the sides and peering into it. Confusion crosses his face before he empties the package onto the table and something falls out from it. We then watch as he looks for any sign of prints with the blue light. 

Soon he’s waving us all in, but I freeze, not knowing if I want to go or not. Catherine stops when she realizes I’ve frozen before looking at me. 

“You ok, y/n/n?” Catherine asks me, but I only shake my head. 

“I don’t know…” I tell her as I stay frozen. 

“Hey. Go ahead. I’ll get her to come, just… uhh, give us a sec,” Warrick tells Catherine and from the corner of my eye, I can see her nod before she walks off. 

“Hey. I’m sure he’s fine. I promise you he’ll come home,” he tells me as he stands in front of me and holds both my shoulders. 

“You can’t make a promise like that, Rick. You don’t know what’ll happen,” I argue back and he sighs before pulling me into another hug. 

“I know I can’t. I’m sorry, but I will promise to do everything in my power to bring him home to you,” he informs me and I sigh before nodding against him. 

“Come on. Let’s go get our boy back,” he says as he pulls back from the hug before pulling me along with him into the room where everyone stands. 

They all watch as I walk in and I give a small smile to them before they all circle around me. Grissom holds up the tape he pulled out earlier and slides it carefully into a tape player. He presses play and we all listen to a few minutes of white noise before 60’s rock music starts to play. 

♪ You can try to please me 

But it won’t be easy 

Stone walls surround me

I’m surprised that you even found me

And you don’t stand an outside chance 

Don’t stand an outside chance 

You don’t stand an outside chance 

But you can try ♪

Outside chance by The Turtles is the song that plays and we all just listen for a good few minutes. We all intently wait for anything else that could help us find my husband, but the song continues to play on. I sigh in anger and Warrick puts his hand down to rub my back soothingly. 

“Son of a bitch… he’s screwing with us,” Catherine curses out loud in anger, shaking her head. 

♪ Whatever you do girl 

You know you can’t get through girl 

Can’t bring me down ♪

The music continues to play and I can’t help, but feel like it’s mainly me the song is taunting. I let out a sigh and Warrick again rubs my lower back to try and comfort me. Grissom then picks up the flash drive that was with the tape and turns to walk over to the desk behind him. 

We all walk over with him and we watch him plug it in as the music continues to play in the background. After he plugs it into the computer, he opens the drive and words start to slide in from the left. 

‘ONE MILLION DOLLARS IN 12 HOURS,’ is the first line, making me gasp quietly and again Warrick quickly pulls me into him, but I turn my head to watch the rest of the lines slide by. 

‘OR THE CSI DIES.’ I gasp again and tears start to fill my eyes as it continues on. 

‘DROP-OFF INSTRUCTIONS TO FOLLOW.’ It continues to have words in all caps slide across the screen. 

‘AND NOW FOR YOUR VIEWING PLEASURE…’ it reads and Warrick tries to get me to turn my head away, but I can’t bring myself to. 

“YOU CAN ONLY WATCH,” it ends off with the watch seemingly looking like a link. 

Grissom moves the mouse and clicks on the link, making us all watch with bated breath as it brings up the video. I let out a gasp when we see Nick pop up on the screen, he’s buried in a clear coffin box and clearly freaking out. The timer at the bottom of the screen clearly counts down, making me have to force myself to try and swallow, but the lump that seems to grow bigger and bigger stops me:

I push Warrick off me lightly and walk right up next to Grissom. I touch the computer screen with my thumb as tears make their way down my face. I feel Warrick put a hand on my shoulder and I close my eyes, not wanting to see his face contorting in fear any longer. I just stand there with my eyes closed for a moment as everyone else watches on in sadness. I take a deep breath hoping it’ll ground me, but it doesn’t work. 

“Warrick, get her out of here. She doesn’t need to see anymore right now,” Catherine’s voice speaks up and I feel Warrick grab me lightly by the arm. 

He drags me out into the hall and steadily holds me by the shoulders. He says something, but I don’t catch it in my panic mode and he gives me a small shake to break me out of it. 

“Why don’t you go back to the break room. I’ll come check on you in a bit,” he tells me and I shake my head as I immediately sober up. 

“No. I’ll be fine. Let me back in there,” I demand as I cross my arms across my chest. 

“Sweets, are you-” he starts as he stands big and tall in my way, but I stop him as I hold up a hand, shaking my head. 

“Let me back in there, Warrick… now…” I tell him as I cross my arms and put a scowl on my face. 

“I don’t think-” Warrick starts, but I cut him off. 

“Ok. So I had a moment of weakness, Rick. So what, that’s my husband on that live feed. It may be the last time I can fully see him. Please… I’m good now, I swear. If I get overwhelmed again, I promise I’ll go shower or something. Just… let me go back,” I beg him before casting my eyes down to the floor as they start to fill with tears again, but I will them away.

“Please… B…” I whisper out, still refusing to look up at him and he sighs, making me look up at him. 

“Ok, but if it gets the slightest bit bad, you’re out of the room, got it?” he asks me and I nod with a small smile. 

“Thank you, B…” I tell him as I walk over to him and reach up to give his cheek a kiss. 

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. I know Nick would literally be sitting over there day or night if roles were reversed. Just don’t make me regret it,” he lightly jokes as he steps to the side to let me though and I shake my head. 

“Wouldn’t think of it. Nick would have my butt for making you regret it anyway, ” I tell him as I pat his chest as I pass him and he chuckles lightly. 

I walk back into the room just as they click on the watch link again and my smile instantly falls. I walk over next to Catherine and Warrick stops behind me, putting a comforting hand on my shoulder. Grissom now sits at a desk behind us all, writing something down. 

“I don’t think he knows we can see him,” Catherine comments as we all continue to watch. 

“How can we be sure it’s a live feed?” Sara asks as we all don’t take our eyes off the computer. 

“We’ve got to assume that it is,” Warrick replies grimly and I feel him rub my shoulder ever so slightly. 

“The space in that box looks like two by two by six, which would be 24 cubic feet. That would hold approximately 600 liters of air,” Grissom speaks up, getting all of our attention and making us turn to him to see him doing the math. 

“If you figure half a liter per breath… slow breathing…” Grissom continues, but pauses to look at his watch. 

“Maybe twelve breaths per minute. Panic breathing would be, what, twice that much,” Grissom analyzes more as he looks up at us, then back down to his paper. 

“Well, if the math is right, he’s got about an hour and 15 minutes of air left in that box,” Grissom finishes off and we all turn back to the screen. 

“But if they’re going to keep him alive for twelve hours, it must mean that he’s got an additional air supply,” Catherine adds on and we watch for a few more minutes until the video clicks back to the beginning page. 

“We lost the feed,” Johnson, our tech guy who stands next to Sara, tells us and we all look confused for a moment. 

Warrick pushes me slightly out of the way and grabs onto the mouse. He uses it to click on the WATCH again and the video pops up. 

“Looks like a live feed to me,” Warrick comments. “I say we keep the light on,” he continues as we all watch on. 

One by one, the others leave to try and learn more. Now it’s just me and Warrick sitting here, constantly clicking the link to watch it. Every once in a while, I find myself playing with my ring as well as the necklace that sits on my neck:

I switch off playing with my ring, spinning it around my finger over and over before letting it sit idle for a few minutes. Then I play with my necklace, moving it back and forth on my neck. I sigh and look down at my ring and I feel a hand land on my hand. 

“Stop that. I know you’re worried, that’s what you do when stressed, worried or trying to hide something. Seeing as the situation is a little difficult, I’d say it’s definitely the first two, but the more you do it, the more you freak out,” Warrick tells me and I shake my head, letting a puff of air out. 

“You’re right, I need to calm down…”I agree wearily and he nods. 

“There ya go. He’ll be home and cuddled up in your bed with you before you know it,” Warrick practically wills it in his tone and I sigh. 

“Maybe I should go-” I start, but pause when my phone goes off. 

I pull it out of my pocket and the face lights up, showing me there’s a text. Opening it, I find a text from Catherine: His parents are here. Still wanna come in with me and Griss? 

I frown lightly, but text back: Yeah, it’ll be helpful for his mom if I’m there. Which room are we doing it in? I’ll be there in a minute.

It’s only a minute later when she replies: We will be in the smaller meeting room. 

When done reading the last text over, I let out a sigh and look at Warrick. He raises an eyebrow at me and I shake my head. 

“It’s Catherine. She’s informing me that his mom and dad are here,” I explained and he nods before rubbing at his cheek. 

“Go. Come find me if you need me after, ok? I’ll drop everything if you need me too,” he promises and I give him a small, sad smile. He gets up as I do and pulls me into a hug. I sigh and sink into his warmth for a moment before pulling away. 

“Here I go. I’ll possibly see you after,” I tell him and he gives me a thumbs up. 

“You got this, sunshine,” he encourages me and I give him a half smile as well as a small nod. 

He turns back to the screen and I catch him grimacing before I turn around. I take one last sigh before starting to walk towards the small meeting room. When I get there, I can see Catherine and his parents just sitting down. 

“Y/n. Hi, dear. How are you doing? You don’t look well,” his mother comments in a concerned tone as she gets up from her seat and comes over to hug me.

“Umm, honestly Jillian, I’m far from feeling fine. But maybe you should sit back down before me and Catherine tell you what’s happened,” I tell her as she pulls back from the hug and frowns at me. 

“Of course, dear. If you think that’s best,” she agrees with me and together we walk over to the table. 

She walks around and sits next to her husband and I sit across from her. I look at his dad and give him a soft smile. 

“Y/n,” he greets with a firm head nod. 

“Judge,” I greet back the same way. 

“Where’s Griss?” I ask Catherine as I look around, not finding him. 

“He had something to look into. He’ll be here in a few minutes,” Catherine explains and I nod, taking a gulp. 

“Do you wanna break it to them or me?” she asks me and I nod. 

“I guess I can,” I sigh before turning to look at his mom and dad. 

“Mom…” I prompt as I pull my hand out and shakily hold it out to her. 

“Judge,” I prompt after she grabs my hand and gives it a squeeze while I look at her husband, who nods firmly to me again. 

“Nick’s been… kidnapped. They want one million dollars in twelve hours…” I explain and his mom immediately gets tears in her eyes. 

“Ok. We can make that money. We have starter money right here,” his dad informs us as he holds up a yellow envelope. 

“Do we at least know he’s safe? Y/n. Is my baby ok?” she asks me as she again squeezes on my hand. 

“From what we’ve seen. I think he’ll be ok. If we can get to him,” I tell her and the room goes quiet for a moment. 

“Bill…” his mom whispers as she lets go of my hand to hold onto his arm. 

It stays quiet for a moment more before we see Grissom walking up to the door. He seems to just get off his phone before coming in as Catherine clears her throat. 

“Judge Stokes, Mrs. Stokes. Gill Grissom,” Catherine introduces them as she motions to Nick’s mom and dad, then to Gill. 

“Your honor. Mrs. Stokes. I’m… uh… sorry that we’re meeting under these circumstances,” Gill gives his condolences and I pull in a rough patch of air. 

“Y/n. Honey. Come here,” his mother tells me as she holds her arms open. 

I move my chair over to her and she pulls me into her arms. I hold back my sobs as much as I possibly can as she strokes my hair. 

“Have you been able to make contact with the animals who took my son?” his dad asks Gill in a very straightforward tone. 

“No, we haven’t yet, but… they should be contacting us in roughly four hours,” Catherine explains as Gill takes a seat next to her now. 

“We were able to rustle up $20,000 cash. Our bank's prepared to wire another $100,000. Now we can sell the cars. We can hock the ranch... We can make the number, but it’s gonna take at least another day. We’ll do whatever we can to bring our boy home to his wife,” his dad explains his plan in a very detailed manner as a judge would.

“Judge Stokes-” Gill starts to try explaining. 

“Can we give them the money we have now, try to buy more time?” His mom asks as she pushes the envelope towards Gill. 

“Mom. Please listen to what Gill has to say,” I beg her and she nods as she stops pushing the money towards him. 

“I don’t think that will help,” Gill tells her honestly and she sits back in her seat. 

I take her hand that’s still around my shoulder and pull it to my front so I can hold it. She looks at me, confused for a moment, but I bite my lip as I nod my head back at Gill. 

“There’s got to be something we can do,” his dad replies in disbelief that there’s nothing that he can do to help. He’s always been the one to rush in and save Nick from anything, whether it be his own mistake or not, making me roll my eyes. 

“You’ve already done it by coming here, by showing your support for both Nick and y/n…” Catherine tries to explain and his mom squeezes my hand. 

“We’re not here to show support. We’re here to get Nick home to us and his wife. Where he belongs,” his mom cuts in with an angry tone and I squeeze her hand softly as her voice falters at the end. 

“We’re not sure who has your son… or why…” Griss tells them and his dad gives him a confused look. 

“Well… what the hell do you know?” Judge asks in a borderline angry tone and I close my eyes for a moment. 

“Judge, please…” I almost whimper out and he sighs before looking at Grissom. 

“Very little…” Grissom answers his question and his mom squeezes my hand again. 

“Let’s just cut to the gist. What proof do you have that my boy’s still alive?” he asks and I let out a sharp gasp along with his mom. 

Catherine and Gill give each other serious looks as Nick's mom still holds onto me. I shake my head when I look at Gill, but it’s almost like he ignores it. 

“Gill, don’t. They can’t see it. Jillian, tell them no. You don’t wanna see it,” I burst out, shaking my head as I frantically get up out of my seat. 

“Y/n. You're ok. Calm down, it’s going to be ok,” Jillian is quick to stand up, coming over to me and pulling me into a hug. 

“Y/n, honey, I think even if we don’t want to see it, we have to,” she tells me as she strokes my hair and I sniffle. 

“Ok… I’m sorry. It’s just very hard to see…” I reply to her and she hums, nodding. 

“No. Don’t be sorry, dear. You’re just trying to keep us from hurting more. We understand, but we have to see it,” she tells me and I sigh before pulling away from the hug. 

“Ok. Griss, let’s show them,” I whisper out with a reserved nod. Grissom nods softly before standing along with Catherine as I walk back over. 

“Judge. Mrs. Stokes, if you’ll follow me,” Grissom says as he looks at his dad and the Judge nods as I wrap my arms around myself. 

We all walk back to the room that Warrick and I had sat in earlier. Grissom leads us over to the computer and he looks at Catherine for a moment. 

“This might be a little hard to watch, like y/n said before, but it’s the only proof of life we have for you,” he explains to them and Jillian nods as she gets a little closer to her husband. 

“We’re ready…” Bill tells him and Grissom nods solemnly before pressing the watch button. It goes completely quiet in the room. 

Nick's face pops up on the screen again and I let out a shuddering breath. We watch for a few minutes as Nick keeps his arm over his eyes and away from the bright light. The countdown that beeps at the bottom of the screen stares at me, taunting me and it takes everything I have not to break down right away. 

His mom freezes for a moment, tears filling her eyes before letting out a devastating grunt. She walks off just outside of the lab, but I can’t tear my eyes away quite yet. His dad watches on with me for a moment more. 

“Oh, Pancho… what the hell you got yourself into?” Judge asks and that’s when I break. 

I walk over with him to Jillian and he pulls her off the wall she’s leaning on and hugs her from behind. I stand there and can’t help, but wish Nick was here to do the same thing with me. She turns and looks at me for a moment before holding her arms open for me. 

My lip wobbles slightly before I rush into the hug and she just holds me as her husband holds her. We stay that way for a while before I pull back and wipe at my cheeks. 

“I’ll, ahh… see you guys later. I’ve gotta go find Warrick. You guys go home and we’ll update you as soon as we can,” I tell them and Jillian reaches back out for me. 

“We’re not going home. Bill has a hotel for us to stay in. Y/n, you should come back with us,” she tells me and I shake my head. 

“No. I’m ok. Really. I’ll text you when there’s something that comes up. Please just go try and sleep,” I tell her and she sighs. 

“Ok, but please promise you’ll take care of yourself, dear,” she tells me and I nod as I purse my lips. 

“I’ll do my best. I’ll text you, ok?” I promise one last time and when she nods in confirmation, I start to walk away. 

I walk down a few halls and stop to lean against a wall when I feel like I’m going to puke. Once the feeling passes, I stand back up and continue on to find Warrick in the break room. I sigh and quickly rush over to him. 

When he hears me enter, he puts his chips down and looks up at me before getting up to come over to me, pulling me into a much needed hug. 

“Rick… he’s just so terrified… I’m terrified I won’t see him again…” I whimper out and he sighs. 

“You’ll see him again, mamas. You will. Just gotta have hope. I don’t want you watching that video again unless I’m there, ok?” he asks and I sleepily nod against him. 

He leads me over to the break room couch and together we sit down. He pulls me into a hug and just holds me as my whole resolve breaks. The last thing I remember before falling asleep from exhaustion and crying was him laying me down with a blanket over me. 

To Be Continued…

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[dustedmagazine]

Dust Volume 10, Number 5

Arab Strap

It’s lovely out. The lilacs are in bloom. The weather is warm enough to make a sweater/sweatshirt/coat redundant, and the bugs are swarming happily all over the garden. And yet, here we are, inside, ear buds in place, music on high, because however nice the weather, what if we missed something? What if, you, our readers missed something? Well, fear not, because we’re back with another set of short, impassioned reviews. Scottish lifers obsessed with their phones, South African jazzmen nearly forgotten, mumbling rappers, untethered improvisers—it’s all here for you. What, you were going out? Too nice to stay inside? Well, okay, it’ll be here when you get back.

Contributors include Ian Mathers, Justin Cober-Lake, Ray Garraty, Bill Meyer, Bryon Hayes, Jonathan Shaw, Andrew Forell, Christian Carey, Alex Johnson and Jennifer Kelly.

Arab Strap — I'm totally fine with it 👍 don't give a fuck anymore 👍 (Rock Action)

Even more surprising than this Scottish duo’s perversely triumphant return a few years ago is that in 2024 Aidan Moffat is writing more about the internet than about cheating and booze. (He’s still writing about those things too though, don’t worry.) Less shocking is that his laceratingly keen eye is no less effective when turned on his own relationship with his phone, or the way women are treated by the “fathers, husbands, sons and brothers” around them as soon as the deniability of a screen is in place, or the psychology of someone who turns to QAnon. And not just technology; with songs addressing those who’ve never recovered from the early-pandemic hit to their ability to go outside and those capitalism leaves to die in solitude, this might be the least relationship-y Arab Strap LP to date. Malcolm Middleton roughs up their sound again to match the bruised, heartfelt brutality of Moffat’s subject matter and the result is one of the most simultaneously empathetic and unsettling records from a band who’ve never been short on either quality.

Ian Mathers

Bad Nerves — Still Nervous (Suburban)

For their second album Still Nervous, punk rockers Bad Nerves take their ready-made formula and just amp everything up. Everything's loud and fast; the band clearly descends from the Ramones, but they've gone more manic. They secretly mix in flourishes of power pop. Underneath all the ruckus, they have a knack for catchy melodies, guitar solos and even vocal harmonies. Then Bad Nerves rough up the pop elements to make sure their disaffection comes through with enough spite to keep everything properly punk. The record does little to vary mood or tempo, but it doesn't need to. The band does one thing, but they excel at it. The Strokes comparisons the band's received mostly work, but the lo-fi production keeps everything sounding as if it's in an actual garage. “Plastic Rebel” offers a youthful rampage, bubble gummy enough to touch on Cheap Trick, but continually plowing forward. The Essex quintet closes the album with “The Kids Will Never Have Their Say,” an evergreen sentiment for the young and irritable. The point doesn't break new ground, but it's beside the point. Bad Nerves tap into something long running and rush the tradition on with plenty of verve and a hint of bile.

Justin Cober-Lake

Conway the Machine — Slant Face Killah (Drumwork \ EMPIRE)

If it wasn’t for Conway’s name on the copy to the album you’d think this was a long solo producer tapes with 40 guests on it, each mumbling about something nobody’s interested in except for the mumbler himself. It is not an exaggeration: it really lasts more than an hour, has close to 20 guests (depends on how you count) and even though Slant Face Killah is produced by a dozen of people the beats all sound the same. If it already sounds awful even for the diehard Conway fans, grip for the worst part of it. It ain’t even worth the trouble to skip all the tiring guest verses for the Conway verses because they are not good anyway. A total failure.

Ray Garraty

Alex Cunningham — Rivaled (Storm Cellar)

Remember October 2020? The time of still-subdued traffic, no shows and a looming election? Rivaled is an artifact of that moment. Nowadays, Alex Cunningham is an intensely active improviser, based in St. Louis but active all around the middle of the USA. Back then he was stuck at home and moved to make some noise. “Faith” and “Void” offer two paths to obliteration. The former is pretty plugged in, with electronic effects and appropriated radio noise turning Cunningham’s violin into a full-on electrical storm. The latter is unreliant upon electricity, but maybe even more dogged and savage. Originally released as an edition of 20 cassette, Rivaled is now a CD with a bonus remix that mashes both tracks together, both vertically and temporally, like a piggybacked highlights reel. Of noise relaxes you, you’ll want this close at hand when the next election rolls around.

Bill Meyer

Dun-Dun Band — Pita Parka Pt. 1: Xam Egdub (Ansible Editions)

Dun-Dun Band is an all-star cast of characters comprising some of Toronto’s most creative musicians and led by musical polymath Craig Dunsmuir. Dunsmuir is a shape shifter, trading guises and styles for decades: a guitar loop conjuror known as Guitarkestra, a purveyor of mutant disco vibes alongside Sandro Perri in Glissandro 70, a welder of minimalism, dub, and avant-garde weirdness as Kanada 70. His Dun-Dun Band collects members of Eucalyptus and Badge Époque Ensemble along with stalwarts Colin Fisher, Karen Ng, Josh Cole and Ted Crosby. Pita Parka is the group’s debut on vinyl and features three extended cosmic jazz jams that fuse multi-horn interplay to African-inspired polyrhythm. The music slyly winks at 1970s fusion but is more akin to that of modern ensembles such as Natural Information Society. The extended nature of the pieces allows the reedists to stretch their lungs and roam around, and for the rest of the ensemble to engage in creative interplay. Pita Parka is a stellar offering from some of Toronto’s finest players and one of the city’s most inquisitive and inventive minds.

Bryon Hayes

Roby Glod / Christian Ramond / Klaus Kugel—No ToXic (Nemu)

The three participants in this session are all veterans of middle European jazz that’s free in spirit, if not always in form. Bassist Christian Ramond and Klaus Kugel are from Germany, and soprano/alto saxophonist Roby Glod is from Luxembourg; their collective cv includes work with Kenny Wheeler, Ken Vandermark and Michael Formanek. Online evidence suggests that they’ve played together as a trio since 2015, which explains their easy rapport and nuanced interaction, but this is their first CD. Freedom for these folks means having the latitude to linger over a tune or to settle into nuanced timbral exchanges, but if you carded them, they’d all have jazz driver’s licenses. This music swings, often at speed, which is a very important aspect of their shared aesthetic; the excitement often comes from hearing Glod invent intricate, evolving lines that are lifted off by fast walking bass lines and kept in the air with light but insistent cymbal play. While the album is named No ToXic, the sheer pleasure of hearing these guys lock in could truthfully be labeled counter-toxic.

Bill Meyer

Göden — Veil of the Fallen (Svart)

Longtime listeners of death doom will recognize the name Stephen Flam, guitarist and co-founder of storied band Winter whose Into Darkness (1990) concretized the subgenre in the US; the record was great, and still is. For his recent work with Göden, Flam has dubbed himself “Spacewinds,” and his bandmates follow suit, with stage names that are equal parts risible and ridiculously gravid: vocalist Vas Kallas performs as “Nyxta (Goddess of Night)” (those parens seem to be her idea…) and keyboardist Tony Pinnisi appears as “The Prophet of Göden.” Okay. This reviewer’s inexhaustible appetite for Winter’s slim output disposes him to think kindly of Flam, and there’s nothing especially terrible about Veil of the Fallen — but that’s only because there’s nothing all that special about the record. The sound of the title track is appealingly austere, and the NyQuil-chugging riffs of “Death Magus” are sort of fun. But any listeners hoping for flashes of the inimitable, awesome awfulness of Winter would be well advised to recall the meaning of inimitable. Not even Flam, it seems, can provide a convincing replica of those energies and textures.

Jonathan Shaw

Mick Harvey — Five Ways to Say Goodbye (Mute)

Former Birthday Party and Bad Seeds member Mick Harvey looks back at his life on his autumnal new album “Five Ways to Say Goodbye.” Although he contributes only four original songs, his skill as an arranger and interpreter reaches its zenith. Harvey imbues his own and others’ songs with intense emotion that never tips into melodrama or histrionics. Augmenting his acoustic guitar with evocative string arrangements which provide counterpoint and color to his lyrics “When We Were Young and Beautiful” may be the finest song he has written; poetic in structure, elegiac in feeling, Harvey faces his past with dispassionate empathy for lost friends and acceptance of where he is now. His version of David McComb’s “Setting You Free” locates a Faustian menace in the song, using the strings to carry the dynamic thrust and emphasize the turbulent ambivalence of the original. “Like A Hurricane” becomes an intimate, piano ballad. By changing the tense from present to past and stripping the song of its rock roots, Harvey creates an emotional impact missing from Neil Young’s original. On “Demolition” Harvey replaces Ed Kuepper’s funereal drums with an off-kilter drum machine that clatters like an old projector to evokes the disconnections inherent in the lyrics. Harvey’s treatment of songs from The Saints, Lee Hazelwood, Lo Carmen and Marlene Dietrich are beautifully rendered. A wonderful summation of Harvey’s often underrated talent and an album that deserves a wider audience.

Andrew Forell

I Like To Sleep — Bedmonster’s Groove (All Good Clean Records)

This combo from Trondheim, Norway started out bridging the sound worlds of Gary Burton and Sleep. That’s a canny move if you’re looking for relatively untrodden ground, and as it turns out, a successful one. On Bedmonster’s Groove, which is album number four, the trio has dialed back the heaviness; you won’t hear a power chord until the beginning of side two. Instead, they have taken a turn towards experimentation. The microscopic applications of filters and effects give confer a variable glitter to Amund Storløkken Åse’s vibraphone, squeezable padding to Nicolas Leirtrø’s six-string bass, and some texturable variety to Øyvind Leite’s drums, which are all shown to good effect by some lean grooves and uncluttered melodies. Åse has also added some instrumentation; synths flicker and swirl in the empty spaces, and a mellotron heads a deliberate charge towards prog territory.

Bill Meyer

Kriegshög—Love & Revenge (La Vida Es un Mus)

Throughout the long existence of Kriegshög, it’s been customary to identify the band as a d-beat act. Love & Revenge is Kriegshög’s first release since 2019 and only its second LP in their (at least) 16 years of playing in and around Tokyo. Prolific, they ain’t, but the music is always worth waiting for. On this new record, the band rolls back the pace a bit and amps up the crusty, metal textures. Less squall and rampant chaos, more muscle and riffs that roll up in well-worn biker leathers — but all those qualifiers are relative. There’s still a raw edge to the production (if that’s the term we want…); the bass is laced with so much fat crackle that you’ll want to fry it and eat it. Sort of fun that one of the most volatile tunes on Love & Revenge is titled “Serenity.” Make of that what you will, but don’t spend too much time thinking about it. You’ll miss the next couple songs.

Jonathan Shaw

Niels Lyhne Løkkegaard and Quatuor Bozzini — Colliding Bubbles: Surface Tension and Release (Important)

Niels Lyhne Løkkegaard is a composer based in Copenhagen. On his latest EP he joins forces with the premiere Canadian string quartet for new music, Quatuor Bozzini, to create a piece that deals with the perception of bubbles replicating the human experience. In addition to the harmonics played by the strings, the players are required to play harmonicas at the same time. At first blush, this might sound like a gimmick, but the conception of the piece as instability and friction emerging from continuous sound, like bubbles colliding in space and, concurrently, the often tense unpredictability of the human experience, makes these choices instead seem organic and well-considered. As the piece unfolds, the register of the pitch material makes a slow decline from the stratosphere to the ground floor with a simultaneous long decrescendo. The quartet are masterful musicians, unfazed by the challenge of playing long bowings and long-breathed harmonica chords simultaneously. The resulting sound world is shimmering, liquescent, and, surprising in its occasional metaphoric bubbles popping.

Christian Carey

The Ophelias — Ribbon EP (self-released)

Ribbon is stormy, scathing and often quite beautiful. “Soft and Tame,” the EP’s emotional center, is all three. It begins wistfully: easy acoustic guitar strums and Andrea Gutmann Fuentes’ layered violin, nostalgic and close to sweet. Vocalist Spencer Peppet also starts slow, talking us through the aimless sensory motions of missing someone – “the sun on my cheek/as I walk around/I pick up a pear/I put it down/the radio plays a song we loved.” It doesn’t take long, however, for the skies to darken and the scene to become bleaker. By the line “the hollow sound/my jugular makes as it rolls around,” Mic Adams’s foreboding drums and a percussive creep of electric guitar have stalked in. And by the time Peppet has shown us “an overturned bus on the highway,” heard a“tornado warning” and told her subject to “stay the fuck away” for the second time, the band has built to a blown-out, climactic frenzy, the violin finding operatic heights over mammoth cymbal crashes.

In her review of The Ophelias’ last album, Crocus, Jennifer Kelly described Peppet as sounding “like she’s tilting her chin up and squaring her shoulders.” Likewise on Ribbon, where the band seems resigned to but also quite prepared for a fight. If “Soft and Tame” is aimed to knock “love in southern Ohio” down for good, then “Rind,” the final song, may tell us why they’re in the ring at all. At a brief break in the dynamic, flowering arrangement — it could be a particularly bucolic Magnetic Fields instrumental, especially in Gutmann Fuentes’ spry riffs — Peppet bursts out, “There you go!/On tour with my hometown friends/fucking score/they must have all forgotten!/Look back at what I tolerated.” There’s more to the story, but Peppet pulls back from the fray, settling things ominously: “to name it/makes your life/a little complicated.�� Whatever “it” is, The Ophelias seem to have landed their punch. I don’t think I’ve heard more cutting, triumphant “Oohs” than those that end the song and Ribbon’s multifaceted fury with it.

Alex Johnson

Paperniks — Oxygen Tank Flipper 7-inch (Market Square)

Jason Henn is a master of catchy psychedelic punk. Honey Radar, his highest profile outfit, has unfurled a constant stream of hook-laden gems for well over a decade. Paperniks is his newest guise, a solo home recording project that amplifies the Guided by Voices meets Syd Barrett vibe of Honey Radar and doses it with nuggets of guitar noise. This tiny slab of wax is the sophomore Paperniks outing, following a single-sided lathe cut that strayed toward the clamorous edge of the octopus’s garden. On display are a pair of tunes that bear a striking resemblance to Honey Radar. “Oxygen Tank Flipper” is a groovy dose of psych replete with a catchy riff and a roller coaster bassline. Handclaps up the catchiness factor, as does Henn’s honey sweet sigh. “Essex Poem Dial” is a punky, garage-inspired tune. Henn’s reverb-soaked vocal hides inside the propulsive guitar chime. A noise interlude leads to a mellow vignette that slowly fades away. Paperniks showcases Henn’s boisterous side, and the music is certainly engaging, so hopefully there are more songs on the way soon.

Bryon Hayes

Ribbon Stage — Hit with the Most (Perennial/K)

Ribbon Stages hits the giddy sweet spot between punk and pop, their raucous guitar-drums-bass racket pounding on sweet, wistful little songs. The mixture varies with some cuts veering into the snaggle-toothed dream pop of, say, the Jeanines, while others rage harder and more dissonantly. “Stone Heart Blue,” the single, pulls the drums way up in the mix and lets distorted guitars and murmured vocals do battle attention behind them. The result is an uncanny balance of urgency, angst and solace, which is exactly what you want from pop-leaning punk. “Hearst” pushes slashing tangling guitar racket up to the foreground, letting a billowing squall spill over crisp drums and shout-sung vocals, while “Sulfate” lets a sighing romantic croon loose over boiling lavas of rock mayhem. Nice.

Jennifer Kelly

Rio Da Yung OG — Rio Circa 2020 (Boyz Ent)

This is exactly what the title says: a compilation of Rio songs stashed on the label’s HDD, no more, no less. No filler but no hits either. The tape has a “Circa 2020” feel to it, reminding us of when Rio did what he wanted with no shades of doom hanging over the songs. It’s unlike the music he wrote after the trial when he knew he had to do some time. There’s a little bit of everything in here: three songs with RMC Mike, two tracks featuring Louie Ray, a song on a Sav beat, a song on an Enrgy beat and a song on a Primo beat. Yet it’s hardly enough to last us until Rio is free.

Ray Garraty

Spirits Rejoice—S-T (Fredriksberg)

Spirits Rejoice! by Spirits Rejoice

A remastered reissue of a 1978 recording, Spirits Rejoice captures boundary-crossing South African jazz scene, which touches on fusion, rock, funk, soul, disco Latin and African sounds. The ensemble includes some of that time and place’s pre-eminent jazz musicians, Sipho Gumede of the fluid, loping bass lines, breezy, insouciant reeds-man Robbie Jansen, South African pioneering percussionist Gilbert Matthews, keyboardist Mervyn Africa and a very young Paul Peterson on electric guitar. The music is ebullient and clearly tilted towards pop accessibility, and the gleaming sheen of 1970s often dilutes its heat and fury. This is especially true on “Happy and in Love” which could double as a lost Earth Wind and Fire cut. Elsewhere, though, as in “Woza Uzo Kudanisa Nathi,” fervid polyrhythms, tight squalls of sax and an exhilarating call and response light up the groove, fusing African chants with a swaggering samba rhythm. And “Papa’s Funk,” is just what it sounds like—a slithery, stuttery, visceral bass-led swagger that bubbles and smolders and twitches in a universal funk.

Jennifer Kelly

Various Artists — GmBH: An Anthology of Music for Fashion Shows 2016 – 2023, Volume 1 (Studio LABOUR)

GmbH: An Anthology of Music for Fashion Shows 2016-2023 Vol. 1 by Various Artists

LABOUR is a multimedia project of Iranian musician Farahnaz Hatam and American percussionist/composer Colin Hacklander. Based in Berlin, the duo has collaborated widely and eclectically to produce soundtracks for sustainable, underground fashion house GmBH. This compilation collates 12 examples and showcases a variety of work from an international roster of artists including Iraqi-British oud player Khyam Allami, Turkish born DJ Nene H, Kuwaiti musician Fatimi Al Qadiri, American performance artist MJ Harper and Indonesian noise duo Gabber Modus Operandi. The thread that runs through all this is cross pollinations between genre, geography, and chronology. Allami’s oud plays against LABOUR’s electronic washes and synthetic percussion with each element emphasizing and interrogating differences in modality and structure. On “White Noise” LABOUR contrast a 16th century harpsichord piece with static and effects dissolving into a robotic club beat which ends up evoking a cyborg Hooked on Classics. Their collaboration with Harper on the spoken word “ablution” is a reflection on love, religion, and abnegation with elements of gospel, eastern and creeping doom ambience. The Anthology has much of interest but is essential for Belgian composer Billy Bultheel’s “YLEM” featuring German countertenor Steve Katona who soars incandescent from a backdrop of industrial grind. The contrast between earthly weight of the music and radiant purity of the voice is breathtaking.

Andrew Forell

Vertonen — taif’ shel (Oxidation)

taif' shel by Vertonen

Give the Oxidation label credit for radical truthfulness. One of the bummers of our time is the frequency with which folks on BandCamp and elsewhere will call a short-run, blue or green-faced disc a CD when they are selling you a CD-R. Oxidation, on the other hand, is named after the process that will eventually render its products unplayable. On to the sounds. Vertonen is Blake Edwards, who has been working around the edges of sound for over 30 years. On taif’ shel, he displays absolute mastery over the combination of collected, electronically generated and carefully edited sounds. His skill rests on three qualities; knowing where to place sounds, knowing how long to let them carry on and having some pretty good ideas about which ones to use in the first place. He can make a drone of infinite (but never unnecessary) complexity, or punctuate flipping film-ends with a precisely situated, never repeated sequence of chops and splices, to name just two examples found on this impermanent but thoroughly rewarding disc.

Bill Meyer

Villagers — That Golden Time (Domino)

That Golden Time is Villagers’ sixth album. The Conor O’Brien led project presents its most eclectic outing to date. A number of the songs are afforded pop treatment, consisting of memorable tunes and gentle, polished arrangements. The double-tracked vocals on “First Responder” is a case in point, about a relationship fragmenting while the singing coalesces, an interesting tension. “No Drama,” initially pared down to piano and O’Brien’s laconic vocals, eventually adds a coterie of Irish traditional instruments. “Keepsake” veers closer to mid-tempo electronica, with overlaid synth repetitions and treated vocals. The title track employs sustained violin lines, played by Peter Broderick, and an intricate form with supple harmonic shifts. “Brother Hen,” on the other hand, recalls the folk influences present from Villagers’ beginning. The diversity is diverting, even though That Golden Time feels like a collection of singles instead of an album statement.

Christian Carey

[noxporium]

What Does The Deck Say? November 11, 2024

"You gave what you could, but it wasn’t enough. Don’t spend the day blaming yourself for what was out of your control and beyond your sight. You gave what you could, and to do anything more would broken you in ways that would be difficult to recover from. Stop blaming yourself for other people’s actions. Look at what you still have and what you are still capable of doing. Tomorrow, continue the process of recovery by taking action. Today, start that recovery by resting and forgiving yourself for what was never yours to begin with."

The Fey Tarot is the work of Mara Aghem. While the card names mostly track conventional tarot naming, the scenes differ from Pamela Coleman Smith’s renditions. Not all minors display the full pip count of their number. Rather, the scenes are meant to evoke the intuition of the reader rather than depend on long lists of regurgitated meanings. The Fey Tarot is ©Lo Scarabeo.

“What Does The Deck Say” is a weekday series of 3 card pulls from a cartomancy deck. No context or query is given to frame what the cards say as the posts are reading samples and not personal instruction. The result is sometimes humorous, sometimes serious, and usually surprising. All readers are invited to leave a comment about what they perceive in the random spread as each person will interact with the cards in their own way.

Personalized, direct, and private cartomancy readings are available via Ko-Fi: Noxporium.

[amethystunarmed]

Reconnection

Word Count: 1613 AO3 Link “Well, well, well, this is a blast from the past, now isn’t it? Love hearing your voices through dime store speakers again. What was the phrase he used?” She emphasizes he, like they should know exactly who she is referring to. “Gives it a sort of... lo-fi charm?” And, for the first time since Sam has joined the OIAR, Chester’s voice stops of its own accord, midway through a statement. ~~~ Sam watches his computer have a mental breakdown. (The original Archives Cast are the Avatars in the Protocol Universe.)

It’s in the middle of a talker, of course, when everything goes to shit. 

It had been a normal day. Alice is humming over her coffee. Gwen is grinding her teeth as she tries to ignore it (probably the reason Alice has been humming for over a goddamn hour). Colin was off somewhere, probably ripping more wires out of the damn walls. Lena hasn’t spoken to Sam since their impromptu meeting, and Sam is pretty sure he is better off for it. Sam himself is doing his best to ignore the current statement like Alice advised (he’s failing), while Chester prattles on about a man reading subway goers their violent deaths hours before they happen. 

Like he said, normal. 

It’s then that a woman walks out of a door Sam has never really given much thought to. He isn't really sure where it even goes. (Has it always been there?) But the thought leaves him as he becomes much more focused on the woman in front of him.

The woman is mousy, bookish, and larger than life. She wears her hair in a high ponytail, frizzy curls spiraling out in wild waves. Sparkling horned rimmed glasses adorn her face, and she wears a brightly colored sweater over an even brighter skirt. It is floor length, and covered in trippy neon spirals that Sam can’t help but stare into. And her hands... Her hands...

“Who the fuck are you?” Alice shouts, and Sam suddenly remembers just where he is. What is happening?

“Ma’am, you can’t be-” Gwen says, hard steel in her voice, but she falters. There’s something like recognition, like horror, dawning on her face. The woman ignores her, eyes locked on Sam’s computer.

“Well, well, well, this is a blast from the past, now isn’t it? Love hearing your voices through dime store speakers again. What was the phrase he used?” She emphasizes he, like they should know exactly who she is referring to. “Gives it a sort of... lo-fi charm?”

And, for the first time since Sam has joined the OIAR, Chester’s voice stops of its own accord, midway through a statement. “What on Earth...” Sam whispers, but no one seems to be listening.

“You...” Gwen actually stutters, sounding more unsteady than Sam has ever heard her. “You’re the woman from the cafe!”

“Yes, good eye , Gwendolyn,” the woman cheers, clapping her hands together. “Though I suppose I shouldn’t expect anything less from a Bouchard.” Gwen stares at her, face rapidly paling. 

“I thought I was imagining...” She swallows, looking like she may faint. “You were following me...”

“I figured it would be a fun little remix!” the woman exclaims, gleefully. “I do so love to put my own twist on a classic.” She holds out her long, distorted hand. Her fingers bend and retract in the fluorescent lights, and Sam can’t see where one begins and another ends. “I’m Sasha, by the way.”

The red light on Sam’s webcam blinks on. Sasha squeals with delight and pushes past him. The brush of her skirt against him burns like TV static. He yelps and pushes his rolling chair back on instinct, sliding across the office. Hands grab the back of his chair, and he knows it's Alice steadying him, pulling him away.

Sasha doesn't bother looking at him, eyes locked on the webcam with vicious delight. She does a little spin, skirt twirling in kaleidoscopic patterns that make Sam feel ill.

“What do you think? I'm a bit different from before, but it's not like you can tell the difference!” 

Sam’s computer makes a high pitched grinding sound that sounds almost like a wail.

“Cool your processors!” She giggles. “I'm sure you don't need my whole sob story, how I came to be what I am. I ended up just... filling a void. No Michael this time, with no Institute to send him to his doom, and no need to grab Helen to play your friend. But poor Sasha James can't help but stick her nose in places it doesn't belong, and well, we figured you would show up eventually.” She lights up, as if remembering something fondly. “I made Head Archivist at the university, before I died this go around!” Her smile curls through her cheeks. “We both know I deserved it, after losing out last time.”

The computer stutters out beeps, almost an inquisitive dial up tone.

“Of course I remember you!” Sasha cheers, “It makes no sense, and that is kind of the whole deal, isn't it?” She chuckles, and it sounds like squealing spiraling fireworks. “I am so excited you finally arrived. Wait until I tell Timmy about this!”

Sam’s computer clicks and whistles. He can hear the gears grinding.

“He won’t get the joke, of course,” Sasha continues, prattling on like Sam’s computer isn’t making sounds out of an eldritch horror. “But he’ll appreciate the irony once I explain.”

The computer wheezes, like it is taking deep, gulping breaths.

“What, did you think since the Magnus Institute doesn’t exist, it was all sunshine and roses?” Sasha clucks her tongue, “We still had encounters, we just had nowhere to go.” She grins. “I'll have to let all our friends know!”

“Chester has human friends?” Alice nearly shrieks from her hiding spot behind Sam’s chair. “Chester from the ‘puter?”

Sasha tilts her head, back and forth, mulling it over. “Well, human may be a bit of a stretch.”

“F-friends? Plural?” Sam says, fearing what he already knows to be the answer. “There's more of you?”

“Oodles more!” Sasha assures him, head bobbing like a freshly oiled doll. “Basira's a drag, takes ages to get her out of the dark and Daisy is a chore to hunt down! But I'm sure Melanie and Georgie are around. What a power couple, the Slaughter and the End? One to kill and one to collect? Almost rivals the synergy of the Spiral and the Stranger!” She taps her long, long fingers against her chin. “Though, I suppose I may be biased.”

With each name, Sam's computer whirs louder and louder. He swears he hears something inside snap, and a smell like burnt rubber wafts through the room, but it never quiets.

“And of course...” Something changes in her voice then. It's just as light and bubbly as it was before, but there's an edge to it now, like an iridescent butterfly knife. “Jon and Martin should know, too. Shouldn't they, Chester?”

She says the name like it's a joke. The computer whistles like a tea kettle.

“Martin's in a fog most days and we'll have to untangle poor Jon from his webs, but I'll think they'll make an exception. Particularly since it gives them an excuse to see each other.”

The computer stops for a moment, and makes an error sound, like what Sasha just said couldn’t compute.

“Always so convinced you are the center of the narrative, aren’t you?” Sasha scolds. “It's funny, isn't it? Jonathan Sims and Martin Blackwood, happy together at last. And all they had to do was die.” She peers down her horned rimmed glasses with surprising disdain. “Not that you would know. You still managed to fuck it up.”

Sam didn't know a computer could make a sound so similar to a sob.

“Of course, I could be lying,” Sasha says, shrugging. “You'd know all about that.” The thing’s voice dips, and swirls with a hatred that makes the back of Sam’s neck prickle. “You were so very quick to jump to conclusions, back in the day. So suspicious of everyone but the singular entity that deserved it.”

The computer (the thing in the computer?) makes a low, regretful groan.

“Maybe none of this is true, maybe you didn't doom them all. Again.” She hums a dizzying melody as she thinks. “But... we both know better than that, don't we?”

There is a pause, a moment of stillness. Sam doesn't breathe, doesn't know if he could if he tried.

Then Sasha's perfect peppy persona snaps back in place. “Well, toodles! I have places to go, people to eat. Try not to cut yourself on all those angles, Chester.”

And she skips out the door, which promptly vanishes behind her.

(Sam’s desktop tower shudders, and jerks like it was shoved.)  

Sam curses. 

(The tan plastic cracks along the edges, and bulges.) 

“Should we smash it?” Alice asks.

(The flat panels distend and warp with rippling force.)

“I... I...” 

(Like something is pushing outward.)

“Great, she broke Gwen.” Alice’s voice is high-pitched and frantic. “Sam, please tell me you have a plan?”

(Like it is trying to hatch .)

Sam has no fucking idea what to do.

Before he can say as much, there is another error noise, and blue and white text flashes across the monitor.

“Did it...” Sam is almost afraid to say it, like he’ll jinx it. “Did it crash?”

As if answering his question, the monitor goes complete dark, then lights up with the Windows logo.

Alice, Sam, and Gwen watch in silence as it boots up, unaffected by the dents and distortions in its casing. They stare at it, in rigid stillness, like it will reach out and bite. At this point, Sam wouldn’t be surprised if it did. The start up tone dings, and Sam jumps so hard he nearly falls out of the chair.

And then Chester's voice picks back up, right where it left off, what feels like a lifetime ago. With the strange door gone and Chester back to normal, it’s almost as though nothing has changed.

(But it has. It has it has it has it has-)

“So,” Alice says, voice shaking, “Anyone want to go for a pint?”

[butterfly22536]

Was it all worth it?

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Spencer are dating. But then something happens that makes you question if it is all worth it?

Word count: 2300

It’s been 6 months since you and Spencer started dating. You remember every second of the first time you saw him: you were drinking a coffee while reading a book you just bought. Almost every weekend you would be at your favorite cafe and bookstore in one: first wandering around in the store and when you would finally choose a book to buy, you would treat yourself to a cup of coffee. While drinking your coffee and eating a croissant, you start reading your new book. Mostly you read crime or psychology books, since you are studying psychology it's one of your favorite subjects. But you can’t resist a good romance once in a while. 

It is your favorite moment of the week: smelling old books and freshly brewed coffee, the lo fi music softly tingling in your ears, the murmuring of people around you, the sun slightly shining through the windows as the doors open and a slight breeze passes right by you. Normally you never look up from your book but now some feeling urges you to look up, when you do you look right at him. A beautiful man, you don’t know how else to describe him. His wild hair and glasses makes him look cute and smart at the same time. You greet him with a smile, first he looks behind him to see if you are really smiling at him. When he sees that no one is behind him, he gives you a small smile back. 

In the next few weeks you see each other every weekend, and every week you are holding a longer conversation. About the weather or about the books you are reading. Before you know it, you are spending the whole midday reading and drinking coffee with each other. You love that he is really listening to you and all the theories you have regarding the book you are reading. You love that you can discuss your psychology subjects and assignments. You know he works at the FBI but he never really discusses his work with you. 

6 months later and countless dinner dates, weekends with ordering food and reading books, taking long walks around the city (Spencer doesn't like walking but he knows you do so he tries to act like he does), you find yourself happier than ever. Even though Spencer has a demanding job, you call each other a lot and spend almost every night together. You love sleeping in Spencer's bed even when he is not there, even though you miss him you love the smell and feeling of his sheets and pillow. You have your own apartment, not far from Spencer. But his is closer to your university and you tend to spend your nights rather at his apartment then yours. 

Even though you love sleeping alone, like you did for 24 years, nothing compares to his warm and strong arms wrapped around you. His soft breath against your neck and even more his fingers stroking through your hair. Tomorrow night you will meet his colleagues for the first time. You didn’t tell Spencer yet, but you are really nervous. You know how much his coworkers mean to him and you are scared they won’t like you, therefore Spencer won’t like you. After hours of sickening yourself with your thoughts, you manage to fall asleep that night.

It feels like a minute later when you are standing on the sidewalk before the bar. You take a deep breath, and Spencer asks what’s going on. You look at him and admit that you are nervous as fuck. He chuckles at your use of swear words, because you normally never do. He says that everything will be alright and kisses you on your forehead. While you walk in, you try to not look nervous. As Spencer introduces his coworkers to you, he introduces you as his girlfriend.You have had conversations about it but not the one where he asks you to be his girlfriend. You smile and get a warm feeling in your stomach and your cheeks get red. 

The team asks you a lot of questions about your study and what you like about it. Where you were nervous at first, you love talking about your study and subjects so you have no trouble telling them everything about the subjects you are working on right now. Morgan makes a few jokes about how proud he is of Spencer, but besides the jokes he tells you that he is so happy to see Spencer this happy. You end up drinking a lot of cocktails, laughing and even dancing with the girls. You try to convince Spencer to dance with you, but he rather sits down with Morgan, Hotch and Rossi watching you enjoy yourself. You even try to bride him by whispering in his ears that you will thank him later tonight if he dances with you. But besides smiling and getting flustered, he still will not dance. 

After some hours, Hotch gestures to the team that they need to go. He tells them that they need some rest with the hard case they have been working on, and that they need to leave tomorrow morning. Spencer didn’t tell you that he has been working on a particularly hard case these past few days. When you are outside the bar, you notice Hotch looking around a lot. You say goodby to everyone, and they make you promise you will see them again soon. 

You and Spencer end up walking towards his apartment. You spend the walk talking about how much you loved his coworkers and loved getting to know them. You avoid the moment where he called you his girlfriend because you are scared that he just said that to be polite. Or that he didn’t know how else to call you. 

When you arrive at Spencer's apartment, you drink a cup of tea on the couch. And then you change into one of your favorite big shirts from him. He loves seeing you wear his clothes, cause you look cute in a big shirt that fits you like a dress.You snuggle up next to him in bed.

He is stuttering and trying to say your name. You look up at him in distress, feeling like the inevitable is happening. He asks you if you found it okay he called you his girlfriend. He is rambling about that he didn’t ask you and now that he is thinking about it, it's not okay to just call someone his girlfriend. You place your hands on his face, making him look at you. You are embarrassed to admit it but you do: you have never been happier when Spencer introduced you as his girlfriend. The words: I love you are almost exiting your lips when you contain yourself and instead kiss him. 

He kisses you back and his hands slowly slide down to your hips. He gives your ass a small squeeze and you can’t help it but you start to get warm and your heart starts to beat faster. You can feel that Spencer's heart is also starting to beat faster. You can feel him getting hard as you lay on top of him, slowly moving your hips while Spencer grips his fingers on your ass. You both start to breathe louder and louder until a moan slips past your lips. You can’t wait much longer so you sit up straight and take your shirt off. You gesture to him to take his shirt off too. He tells you he is not going to do that so easily, you take that as a sign to kiss his neck and slowly glide down. You take his pants down and start taking him in your mouth. 

Within a few seconds you can hear him moaning, suddenly you feel his hands on your face and when you look up, he picks you up and makes you sit on top of him. His fingers move around you and he feels how wet you already are. You can’t help but moaning and begging him to feel him inside of you. He wastes no time, and with a quick push he is inside of you while you sit on top of him. You have to take a breath before you slowly start moving your hips. He smacks your ass and grabs the back of your neck. You both start moving and you feel like you are becoming one, moving your bodies at the same rhythm. Spencers tells you he is going to come and you can’t wait to feel his pulse and cum inside of you. He groans loudly as his thrusting goes faster and faster... Until he just lays there with his eyes closed, you can see his chest moving as he tries to catch a breath. You can’t help but smile as you give him a kiss on his forehead. 

He groans as you get up from him. As you lay beside him, he is asking you if you came. You didn’t so you tell him but that it’s okay, you never come from just penetration so it isn’t about him. He opens his eyes and you notice he has a grin on his face. From past experiences you know what that means and you were right. Spencer climbs on top of you and with your fingers he makes your heart beat faster. You close your eyes and before you know it you feel your peak reaching as Spencer is licking and fingering you. Your body switches as you moan his name. You throw your head back, arch your back and grab his hair. You want to scream but the only thing coming out of your mouth are high pitched breaths. You can feel your body relaxing after you came, your eyes are closed as you feel Spencer's arms wrap around your body. You feel your eyelids slowly closing as his body warms you. You are missing him already, and can’t wait till he gets back from the case.

Spencer left that morning to fly to Atlanta for the case. You went straight to class. Spencer told you that it’s okay that you stay at his place, and that he will be back in a couple of days. To save you the trouble of packing all your clothes and books, just to bring them back a few days later. After a long day of studying there is nothing you want more than to cuddle up with Spencer on the couch. You decide to order some food and watch your favorite episode of NCIS. You have watched every episode already but it takes you back to when you were younger. In a weird way it makes you comfortable and relaxed. 

That feeling gets suddenly disturbed by a knock on the door. You walk to the door wondering who could be knocking at Spencer's door at this time. Just as you were about to open the door, you can hear Spencer's voice in your head telling you you shouldn’t open the door when you are not expecting someone. Sometimes it annoys you that he is so overprotective but on the other hand you find it sweet. 

You decide to listen to Spencer and look through the peephole in the door. You see a young man: maybe in his late 20’s, pacing through the hall. You squeeze your eyes to see if you recognize him. His hands are gliding through his hair like he is nervous. He walks up to the door and knocks again. Then he says the words: “Spencer, are you there? It’s me, your brother. Can you just please open the door?” 

Your heart starts beating in your chest: his brother? Spencer never told you he has a brother. Should you open the door? Maybe something happened? Or maybe Spencer never told you about his brother because they are fighting? Then you should definitely not open the door. Your stomach is twisting as you are thinking about what you should do. You decide to call Spencer but his phone goes to voicemail. 

As his voice message ends you start talking: “Uhm Spence, I don’t really know what to do or say. Your brother is at your front door. Can you just please call me back. I don’t know what to do and I feel kinda worried”. As you are rambling to Spencer's voicemail you look through the peephole again. The man is looking straight at you, he heard you talking. “Fuck Spence, what is going on?”. 

As the words exit your lips you can see two other men joining the man looking at you. They start pushing the door and picking the lock. You slowly walk back, still with the phone to your ear but you can’t manage to say anything. In a way, it makes you feel at peace that you are talking to Spencer's voicemail even though he isn’t really there. Then the door swings open and you look right at the three men entering the apartment.

You run to the living room screaming at your phone: “Spence oh my god, what is happening. Please come here”. You can feel a man grabbing you from behind throwing you on the floor. Your phone slides away and in one way you hope that your phone broke so Spencer doesn't have to hear this. In another selfish way, you hope that your phone is still on. So that Spencer is kinda there with you. 

You start crying and screaming: “Please, no no no no”. You see a man standing over you with the weirdest smile on his face. “Spence” are the last words you say before the man knocks you out.

[flowersarefreetherapy]

22. At a pay-by-hour hotel

- sara / @justplainwhump

CW: Implied future dubcon, sexually degrading language, mild violence (he gets pushed around a bit), pet whump, Cameron sure is something

“Really?”

“What do you mean, really?”

“This place? This is where you want to stay?”

Cameron gestures to the boring building across from them. He has stayed in hotels across the nation, in LA, New York City, Los Vegas, and Mackinac Island. Always in the top suite, always hotels that were secluded, sometimes divided into little cabins, where someone would drive the car away for them, where there were indoor pools with soft lighting and a full bar. Those hotels were nothing like this one. Boring beige paint, light fixtures that would be better suited to a sci-fi movie, a parking lot up front where his master would have to park his own car. He’s certain the inside will be just as boring, just as awful. 

Why would his master ever choose a place like this?

“You’re awfully rebellious this morning,” his master says, pulling into a parking spot, perfectly between the lines. So he’s just fine with having to park? What is going on? “No proper titles, honey.”

“Sorry, sir,” Cameron whispers. He can’t stop glancing at the hotel. “Sir, what are-”

The blow cuts off his question, snapping his head to the side. Cameron counts to three, slowly letting out a breath, begging the sudden heat coiling in his gut to go away. His master’s fingers tangle in his hair, forcing his gaze back to him.

“If you would just shut up for a moment, I will tell you.” His master’s icy gaze travels up and down Cameron’s body before he continues. “This isn’t where we’re staying. It’s a little detour. Something I thought you would like. Just a few minutes with my boy before I’m swept away into meetings and contracts. Isn’t that kind of me, to think of you this way?”

Cameron swallows hard. Such a selfish whore. “Yes, sir, that is very kind of you. I’m sorry I was so hasty.”

“Hmmm.” His master turns his head side to side, gaze lingering on Cameron’s cheek. “Red really does look good on you. As does submission.”

Cameron whines, shifting his weight as his master’s fingers twist in his hair. If he’s good, if he behaves, if he does everything right, this day can go very, very well for him. But all his master does is smile and open the door.

“And pull down your shirt,” he orders before sliding out. “You look like a cheap whore.”

Cameron flushes, yanking down on the hem of his tight tank top. It’s his master’s favorite one; soft, cream colored, with a wide neck that too easily slips down one shoulder. At least it was a better choice than the mesh one he has packed away, but he still hates how exposed he is as he follows his master into the hotel. 

He pays for two hours. The woman behind the counter is smartly dressed, with a navy blazer over a white collared shirt. Her makeup is perfectly applied and Cameron tilts his head, trying to work out what brand she wears. It’s nicer than the stuff his master gives him, which leaves behind a caked look if he uses too much. Cameron makes a mental note to ask his master for better makeup and smiles at the woman when she gives them the room key. 

“Two hours?” he teases, slipping his arm through his master’s. “That’s hardly enough time.”

“If I were you, I would make it enough time.” His master takes the hem of his shirt in his fingers, rubbing the fabric. “I wonder if Maggie would be able to get bloodstains out of this . . .”

Cameron grips his master’s arm tighter. He doesn’t have to force the breathless lilt to his voice when he says, “I don’t mind throwing it away.”

“I do. It looks lovely. Brings out the lightness in your eyes.” 

His master opens the door of their rented room. Cameron barely steps inside the threshold before the door slams shut. His head knocks against the door as his master’s arm presses against his throat. The sting on his scalp and pressure on his throat goes straight to between his legs.

“Well look at you getting all excited?” his master whispers. “Looks like those two hours might have been too much after all.”

Cameron laughs, the sound cutting off in a breathtaking kiss. His master pins him to the door, biting his lower lip hard enough to bleed. Copper fills his mouth and Cameron moans.

“Come on,” his master chuckles. “Let’s get to the bed.”

“Before your knees give out?” Cameron breathlessly gasps. 

His master mutters a few curses, dragging him to the bed by his hair. Cameron doesn’t struggle at all, his heart racing with each step. Two hours. Two hours with his master and the knife he saw when his master stepped from the car.

What more could he ever want? 

[hughiecampbelle]

Hey! I loved writing your ship and wanted to request one from you with my very excessive self-insert if that’s OK :D her site is https://brynnwrites(.)my(.)canva(.)site/green-thumb. It’s not essential reading or anything, just if I don’t give enough details since I’m not good at sending requests! I overthink dumb stuf and either add way too much or redact way too much.

My self-insert is named Bernadine “Bernie” Feldt, and she’s a twenty-five-year-old D-level Supe with the power of florakinesis: controlling and manipulating plants. She graduated from Godolkin University with a double-major in Environmental Science and Public Relations, as well as a minor in Journalism, and began working as a Public Relations and Sensitivity Agent for the environmental agency Friends of the Earth after that. She loves to read, write, and garden — the traditional way, not the Supe way — as well as cuddle with her chihuahua-shih tzu mix, Olive. Loves ‘90s indie-rock and lo-fi a lá Silver Jews, Galaxie 500, Magnetic Fields, and Sebadoh. Typically wears geometric sweaters (no matter the weather), bermuda shorts (also no matter the weather), denim skirts, crimson tights, ribbed tank tops, vegan Dr. Marten’s boots, corduroy pants and skirts, “bohemian” jewelry, and minimalistic button-ups. She was injected with V when she was a baby, and due to her heavily Lutheran upbringing, was taught that it was a “sign from God” — something that she learned to be entirely false after Starlight’s speech. Because of this, she splintered off from her family and began re-evaluating her entire life. She caused a stir when she publicly denounced “Supedom”, publishing her thoughts on what she dubbed “Supe Theory” — concerning the ethics of not just making superpowered individuals, but them living onwards — yet continued onwards, publishing articles on open-source publishing platforms (such as Medium) and looking into grad school to begin deconstructing Supes — and, by extension, Vought — academically. Disgusted with the imbalance of power, she contacted Hughie Campbell of the Federal Bureau of Superhuman Affairs. 

As such, she is incredibly organized, passionate, and principled. Bernie is one of those people who say, “if you can’t do it right, don’t do it at all”. While one could attribute it to her strict upbringing, it is something she genuinely believes. However, these supposedly good attributes bring issues — Bernie’s pursuit of the ultimate “right decision” leads to overwhelmingly impractical decisions. She won’t even admit it, because she truly expects everyone and everything to be perfect, and that if the “perfect” answer doesn’t yield the best result, it’s the fault of the people who “don’t believe in goodness/rightness/etc.). And, of course, that backfires against her, because she does not fit into those standards. It’s rough. 

She has unmedicated OCD, which poses a plethora of challenges. When she was thirteen, she was given Seroquel, and did random things that most people would just tell as a funny story: sleep-walking, saying random but harmless things, eating food, etc. However, even as a pre-teen, Bernie experienced extreme anxiety over her powers, and feared her power could turn out disastrously. Because of that, she began meticulously documenting everything she did, whether it was eating, sneezing, or turning on the T.V. Additionally, she began fixated on things she made having a count of 25 or being divisible by 25, yet this isn’t linked to anything significant, in contrast to the former.

For canon-neutral (so excluding Starlight's speech and the FBSA), she's an incredibly low-tier Supe who is carrying a lot of guilt, as, while pursuing a robber, she accidentally killed an eighty-year-old grandmother by covering her in beautiful hydrangeas, leading to one of her beautiful brown eyes to pop out. The news covered it up, and despite that, she hasn't publicly addressed it, even though she's addressed all other cover-ups by the media and Vought. She lives in an apartment with her dog, works a 9-5, hypes herself up to play Environmentalist Pageant for people who are just trying to avoid taxes, and is 99.99% close to breaking and telling everyone to open their eyes, Fiona Apple '97 MTV style. With a lot less flair, though, because Bernie does not get to any mainstream news except when she's protesting Boar's Head in Virginia (which would age well in her favor, and poorly in Boar's Head's favor?).

My self-insert and I are bisexual, but lean a lot more towards women, since the romance/connection is a lot more natural and easy to recognize. However, I am fine with whoever you think is most compatible for me since I'm attracted to both genders, I just would take more time for a guy, but the feelings would still be as strong! Thank you for being so awesome and sending me an ask. 

— Brynnterpretations (felt weird sending it from my main LOL), love your writing SM ♡

Bernies sense of justice was what got Kimiko interested in her. Because she's with The Boys and morals are pretty loose, seeing how much she cares and how she thinks about everything, it was new and admirable

Truthfully, I see Kimiko liking big dogs since they offer more protection, but as soon as she sees Olive, she melts. She'd do anything for that dog (and has). Her little paws don't touch the ground with Kimiko because she carries her everywhere

Kimiko gives her a lot of comfort with the accident. It might take a long time to talk about it, but Kimiko 100% sees it as an accident and has a long talk with Bernie about mistakes and guilt and self-blame. She hates to see her hurting

Kimiko would try to get Bernie to talk to M.M. about her OCD, especially when it's getting too overwhelming. She doesn't want to force her, that's her decision, but she knows it would benefit her to have someone who understands

Kimiko works incredibly hard to have a green thumb and definitely almost scares Bernie with her excitement and insistence when really all she wants to show her is that the bud she planted and waters and keeps on her desk has bloomed just a little. It's endearing how much effort and thought Kimiko puts into keeping this one plant alive just for Bernie

- @brynnterpretations my love!!! Omg I love Bernie!!! I did go to the website to see what she looked like I hope you don't mind!!! This inspired me so much to revisit an old OC so thank you!!!! I hope you like it!!! Xoxoxo💜💜💜💜

[opinated-user]

Catching up on stuff I missed and that whole debacle with Batman’s food just doesn’t make reasonable sense no matter what way you slice. Why do you need to show a receipt for buying cat food? Does this person not know what a receipt is for? It’s mainly for being eligible to return an item if it wasn’t satisfactory to your tastes, but you can’t just do that with food, because you have to have ruined the packaging in some way in order to use it. No store is going to take back a cereal box someone opened up because the cereal turned out to be stale. You keep receipts for shit like buying clothes in case the clothes might not fit, which is actually what happened to me a few weeks ago when buying new jeans so there’s an example right there.

And second, this has to assume that Courtney wouldn’t, you know, feed her cat, like she said she was going to. What kind of person would just intentionally starve their cat, if they weren’t already abusive to their pets? The fact that she considered pawning off her laptop, which is going to have long term consequences in any capacity, just to feed the poor guy shows she clearly was really to take the long term hit just so she doesn’t have to lose her cat.

And third, how the fuck does this relate to Lily using money that was supposed to go to Mikala (not sure if that’s spelled right) immigration fees to buy a new desk. This is a giant stretch to put those on the same levels of seriousness. I can reasonably understand that Courtney’s current situation could mean that she can use some of the money meant for cat food to buy other things, since I can reasonably assume that her Ko-fi was made for that purpose, and Courtney’s character means she would probably be upfront if that’s something that happened, and good on her for doing that anyways, she seems to be tight on money as is. Meanwhile, Lily committed actual fraud. I’m not sure if this could count as charity fraud, but even someone like me, with no law experience, clearly knows taking money meant for something big and spending it on something else is legally questionable.

THERE WAS AN ENTIRE CONTROVERSY LATELY WITH THE COMPLETIONIST HAVING DONE EXACTLY THAT, WHY DID NO ONE QUESTION THIS

Sorry if this is long-winded and redundant at this point, but I saw that whole thing when catching up on the LO drama and I just needed to vent my whole frustrations with that.

i have to thank you, anon, for putting everything i have felt about that particular situation so succinctly. after everything was said and done, i have a strong feeling that sparky was behind those messages. just like i'm almost sure that he was behind all the "apparently" messages that LO is getting with archived links of our posts. why? because that's exactly how he used to talk to me just to hear my response. the only times we talked at all was when he wanted to bring some new thing that LO had said or done. that without even bringing up he confessed to Brittany he just likes to stir the pot to see what happens. that's his way to try to sympathize with you, to show you that he is on your side. "i bring you all this stuff that you can use against the people you dislike, so that must mean that i'm good in your eyes, right? only a friendly person would do that!" nevermind that even back then, i'd find weird the frequency with which he did it because... sometimes he'd share completely innocent and small messages from LO and i'd have genuinely no idea of how to respond because they were completely useless to prove anything. that's the exact same thing he is doing with LO, but he has upgraded now to just completely lie or intentionally misrepresent everything to self that distorted version back to LO. LO's being played like a fiddle, just like he played all of us for a while until he revealed his true colors. i have no doubt in my mind that only an individual acting in bad faith would seriously try to take me trying to talk about LO scamming her audience, literally going out of their way to copy my words, spamming me with multiple messages even after i blocked their IP by using a VPN, as somehow Courtney being the one to scam everyone because she didn't show the receipts for cat food. but of course that LO only cares about having something, anything, against the sibling that is dennouncing her, so she won't bother to use reason, logic or even check if the allegations are true before just publish them for her audience to stick only with whatever she tells them. they already believe that a 6 year old can be blamed for the abuse perpetrated by an adult after all!

[phoenixisobsessed]

Hey again! Was thinkin' about music (as one obsessed with music does) and I was curious what you were into! :D

Genres, bands, albums, any songs specifically you recommend to me or anyone else? Any small bands or underrated songs you think could use some love?

Also, do you own any physical music? Vinyls, CDs, tapes, something more obscure? (Reel to reel/8track/etc)

And as a little bonus question, favorite transformers soundtrack? (Which show/movie/game did you think had the best (in your opinion) theme/backing tracks)

Well…Heh…I am one of those people who say they like everything and then hate on a bunch of stuff. AHSBHAV no that’s a joke, but it would be easier to say what I don’t like rather than what I do like. I don’t like the specific genre of pop that is Ed Sheeran, Dua Lipa, and most just popular pop songs, I guess? Like I DO like pop but not that kind of pop. I also have a thing that I need my music to be at least a little loud and energetic because most calm music (like lo-fi) stresses me out (don’t question me.). But I’d say my most listened to genres are metal, rock, hyperpop and electronic (in that order).

I have a really hard time PICKING OUT things for this reason but I’ll give you a screenshot of my most recent added songs to my playlist because those are usually my recent favourites. 2 sec hold on.

Alright there it is. I also just realised I said that like I was texting somebody and having a live conversation but I’m not changing it now.

If I’d have to say anything, I AM IN LOVE with Jay Ray’s stuff. High recommend. I think Jay Ray is big in the tf community though so UAGEUA. If I had to mention like one thing I have that I actually think may not be listened to by many it’s BREAK by Jimmy Here. I wish that song was longer because that scream it has in the end is BANGER. (And yes that is the “it is wednesday my dudes” guy. Yes I watch his videos). Six feet under by kissin’ dynamite is also recently one of my favourites. Can also, ALWAYS, recommend infected mushroom. Specifically “becoming insane” and “The Pretender”. Imma just list some more that I like rq

Drone corpse aviator - Archspire

Frank sinatra

KittenSneeze

System of a down

Odetari

AUDIT - weevildoing

Soft Cell

The Tornado - Owl City

Aleph - Gesaffelstein (This is my locking in song)

Animals - Muse

Bon Jovi

Imagine dragons

Insane Clown Posse

Queen

100 gecs

Lemon Demon

BOOGIE - BROCKHAMPTON

I could go on but we could be here for days guys I’m stopping myself here. And I also recommend every single song in the screenshot. YIPPEE.

I’d like to link you to a previous post where I mention some artists I listen to: here

The problem is that I’m a song listener. Not an album listener, not an artist/band listener. I find a singular song I like, add it to my playlist, and move on. AHBSHA My friends hate me for it. And for that reason I also have no physical music. Only a bit of band merch from my absolute faves (Slipknot and mother mother hehe)

And now I must admit…an EMBARRASSINGLY big portion of the songs on my playlist comes from the Bumblebee movie (and it’s not transformers media, but some of the songs on the screenshot are from THE FUCKING FALLOUT SERIES (it was banger)). AUEHUA They aren’t originals so I’m not gonna count it as much BUT THE SONGS FROM G1…OH BOY YOU CAN NEVER GO WRONG. Those are mf BANGERS. We need to go back to rock songs in animated kids movies. I have “The touch” on my goddamn playlist and no I’m not ashamed about it. I also have jort storm by Slimecicle because I’m a gunky goober who wears jorts.