#vulture-blackout

[goaskalexonline]

𝘔𝘪𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘳, 𝘔𝘪𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘳

Kraków, Poland - 2023

[murderoushagthesequel]

marauders era characters and whether i think they're good singers or not

Sirius Black: thinks he has the voice of an angel. more has the voice of a vulture. subjects everyone to his awful singing whenever he can. remus hates listening to music in his presence because he always ruins it.

James Potter: could be a good singer if he tried. but he prefers just screaming on to lyrics. "reggieeee it's more fun that way!" regulus is not impressed. he doesn't let james choose the music in the car anymore. when he and sirius duet it's a true nightmare.

Remus Lupin: decent singer but will not sing unless it's along to another song. if the music cuts out an he's still singing, you'll never see him again. that mf is fleeing to another country.

Peter Pettigrew: surprisingly a great singer, and he knows it. usually only pulls out the singing for karaoke, but if somebody asks him to sing, well, how can he say no? "WORMTAIL THAT IS THE THIRD TIME YOU'VE SERENADED A GIRL THIS WEEK SHUT THE FUCK UP"

Mary MacDonald: this girl is a singer. like she wants to become a popstar and she will if she puts her mind to it. like she's got the voice for pop-punk. she'll do an impromptu concert during a party and everybody loves her and is in love with her for it.

Lily Evans: she is a choir/theater kid. don't lie to me and say otherwise. this girl got up on stage and sang her heart out to the music man in sixth grade (seventh year). she was the soloist in all her choir shows. she's a good singer and she knows it but she's humble.

Marlene McKinnon: likes to think she can sing, but can't. mostly sings when she's drunk. nobody has the heart to tell her she isn't the next celine dion. dorcas actually finds it quite endearing though. she loves watching movies with marlene when she insists singing along to the whole soundtrack

Regulus Black: amazing singer. like literally voice of an angel. but will put a knife to somebody's throat before they ever hear him sing. but blushes when james says he has a pretty voice. before threatening him at knife point. it doesn't exactly go to plan.

Dorcas Meadowes: she's a decent singer but doesn't like to sing. will only sing if marlene drags her to do karaoke. because she can't say no to marlene. and she's usually already blackout drunk.

Barty Crouch Jr.: listen, this guy is the next michael buble. he moonlights as a singer at cocktail parties and makes ladies swoon. evan is annoyed. think of barty as duke silver from parks and rec but with singing. that's the vibe. but nobody knows and he and evan pretend he can't sing for shit around their friends.

Evan Rosier: your pretty average singer. sounds good on some songs when he tries, bad on others. barty always claims he sounds perfect even when it's he's completely off-key.

Pandora Lovegood: she has two modes. literally heavenly, like the voice that sings you up to heaven when you die. or she sounds like she's choking to death. usually the latter is when she's drunk. don't ever ask her to do karaoke when she isn't sober, your ears will bleed.

[sinkovia]

GIVE ME MORE MAREUX RECS PLEASEEE. the ones u gave me b4 were so good. also do you listen to crystal castles

OMG REALLY!!??? IM SO GLAD YOU LIKED THEM! I will DEF give you some more 💅🏽

I love love love crystal castles THEY DONT MISS WITH ANY OF THERE SONGS 😭😭😭

I LOVE LOVE LOVE MAREUX SO MUCH 😭 I LITERALLY WANT TO SCREAM AND RIP MY HAIR OUT ANYTIME I LISTEN TO HIS SONGS 😭

These are some recs that remind me of crystal castles and mareux that you might like 💅🏽

[circusgoth-dotcom]

An Angel in Greasepaint

Ship: Sweet Tooth x Corey Wynona Ozbourne

Word Count: 1325

Summary: The first time Corey and Sweet Tooth met. After a massive internet blackout, the world has been thrown into an apocalypse, where it's every motherfucker for themself if you don't live in a protected city. Corey Ozbourne hasn't quite adapted to the new world, but Sweet Tooth is a natural. CWs for fainting, thievery/mugging (not described), brief violence, unsanitary mentions, murder mentions.

Tag List: @canongf @futurewife

A hazy sky and blinding sun swam before Corey’s vision as he lay in the not-so-middle of the Nevada desert, barely conscious as a handful of people rifled through his belongings. It had only been a few months since the blackout caused the world to shit itself, but it was easy to lose track of time. Factions were beginning to form between the like-minded individuals exiled from the walled-off utopias, reserved for the “peak” of what was left of society.

Currently, Corey was being mugged by Vultures, human scavengers who would take what they could get- either by happenstance or force. Luckily for them, it seemed the pale man with cracked glasses carrying nothing but a backpack had been out of commission for some time now. Easy prey.

Unluckily for them, they weren’t aware of the rapidly approaching ice cream truck until it was practically on top of them, a merry tune playing from the prominent speaker situated at the front of the vehicle. They scattered as bullets cut through the heat and pierced flesh, and they wouldn’t stop running until the driver of the ice cream truck was sure their vehicles were out of sight. As darkness crept at the edges of Corey’s sight, the truck came to a halt and the driver exited. The last thing he would see before he fully faded was the large form of what he swore was a clown.

When he came to, he was lying in a dusty hotel room, a metal fan weakly oscillating back and forth in the corner with a distinct squeak. His head felt as if it were stuffed with cotton, and for the moment all he could do was blink up at the strangely pink ceiling and absently trace the duvet under him.

“Oh good, you're not dead,” a rumbling voice dragged his attention toward the doorway of the room. There, an intimidating man dressed in a clown mask and a leather harness stood, carrying a large jug of water. “I have no idea how clean this is, but you should probably drink it.”

The clown approached the bed and helped Corey sit up when he realized they weren’t going to move on their own. As the jug was settled into their hands, they quickly fumbled to open it and began to chug. Once their head began to clear, Corey set it aside, gasping.

“If I’m not dead… then surely I’m hallucinating…” He spoke through laboured breaths. The clown laughed.

“I assure you, I’m the real deal. Sweet Tooth’s the name,” he offered a wide hand encased in a black leather glove, though the palm seemed stained by an oddly red substance. Corey hesitantly shook it and opened his mouth to respond, only to violently sneeze.

“Jesus-- sorry, ‘m Corey…” He sniffed, reluctantly wiping his nose on the back of his arm. He winced as he brushed against a fresh sunburn.

“Ooh, that’s a cool name. Like that one guy in that band. But anyway, forget that.” Sweet Tooth proceeded to sink into the end of the bed as he spoke, “What are you doing out here? You don’t strike me as very experienced, but you’re not a shitstain on the road yet, so you’ve gotta have something more to you than noodly arms and a bad sunburn.”

“I’m not. Experienced, that is. Don’t ask me how I’ve survived this long, I couldn’t tell you. One minute, I was stocking shelves in some shitty Midwest grocery store. Next, people were losing their minds because technology went to pot. I got on a bus somewhere and ended up out here. As you can tell, it’s not my natural climate.” He took another swig of the water, frowning.

“Hey man, at least you’ve been out in the world, experiencing things. I’ve been in a goddamn cell for most of my life.” Sweet Tooth clapped Corey’s shoulder amicably, which seemed to jolt him toward some sort of sense as an alarmed expression replaced his previous one.

“So, er, what’s with the get-up?” He tried casually, scanning the room for exits. Nowhere was safe anymore, and certainly no one could be trusted. Not even a strange clown man who saved you from being picked apart by vultures and gave you water of questionable quality. Sweet Tooth rose from the bed, cocking his head to the side and scratching at his ear.

“Y’know, it was just kind of something I happened upon.” He ran his fingers over his mask. “It’s the real me.” A pause occurred as he stared off into the distance, chest heaving slightly. Keeping his grey eyes locked on Sweet Tooth, Corey inched further down the bed, planning on sprinting for his life. They froze when he spoke again. “Besides, who’re you to judge, running around looking like a rejected Hot Topic model?”

Corey’s face burned, and for once it wasn’t because of the sun. “That’s really rude, dude. This makes me happy, don’t be so quick to judge-- I wasn’t trying to grill your appearance just now, was I, fucker?”

Sweet Tooth was physically taken aback, his hand falling on his chest. “Geeze… well, now I see how you’re getting by. That tongue of yours is a weapon on its own.” Even with the exaggerated mask, Corey could hear the grin in the clown’s voice. “Y’know, I could’ve killed you out there. In fact, I didn’t even know you were there, I was focused on getting those damn Vultures out of my territory, and maybe checking out what they were so interested in. Turns out it was just some dehydrated punk- you.”

There was a pause that made Corey bite his lip. He was on the edge of the bed now, mere feet between him and the doorway of the hotel room. What were his chances of surviving if he dipped now?

“Do you kill a lot of people?”

Sweet Tooth stepped closer to them. They could almost feel his breath behind the mask.

“What do you think, Corey?” He asked seriously.

They examined the man in front of them, with his blood-stained gloves and leather harness. He could break their back like Bane if he really wanted to.

“Yes.” They answered plainly. Sweet Tooth rubbed the chin of his mask in a thoughtful manner.

“I like you. Listen, I can’t guarantee you’ll be safe if you stick by me, but you’ll definitely learn a lot. And your risk of heatstroke will probably decrease. Probably. Oh, and this’ll sweeten the pot! Stay right here.” With that, Sweet Tooth bustled off, leaving Corey bewildered. They picked up the jug again, pacing themself as they drank away the aches in their body and waited for the clown to return.

When he did, he was carrying Corey’s bag. “I saved what was left of your stuff! Wouldn’t you rather stay here, in Sin City itself, with somewhat steady access to food and comfortable bedding, than to spend your time scrounging around, fighting with the Vultures on the road? Do you even have a car??”

Though they were still wary about Sweet Tooth’s intentions and sanity, they had to admit he had a point.

“We’re in Vegas?”

“Hell yeah! You weren’t too far from reaching the strip when you, presumably, collapsed.”

Corey weighed the options in his mind before finally sighing. “Well, you’re right about me not having a car… you’re sure there’s food here?”

“Plenty of stuff that doesn’t expire until next year! Though I might avoid the frozen stuff if I were you.”

“And you're willing to share your ‘territory’ with… me? A nobody who you would’ve killed without a second glance on any other day?”

“Take the offer while I’m extending it, pal, because that possibility isn’t necessarily off the table forever.”

“Alright. Thank you for the water, roomie.”

Sweet Tooth seemed to glow with the term. “Roomie. This is going to be so much fun! I can’t wait for you to meet Harold!”

[lit-works]

Spider-Man : A City in Darkness

Finale

I sit there, perched atop a 20-story skyscraper, looking north at the city. No one would know that just a few hours ago this island metropolis was plunged into blackness by some madman, a madman who would likely do it again. A madman with a colossal grudge against me, Spider-Man.

The question is, which madman? I've made more than my fair share of enemies in my career, some of them incredibly powerful. Doc Ock. Hobgoblin. Doomsie, the Frightful Four, Vulture–the list goes on and on, a fact that is not the least bit reassuring. Electro is on the loose as well, but Electro has rarely ever used underlings. He usually teams up with another super-powered felon when he isn't going solo.

Somehow, though, everything ties together; the springing of Electro, the blackout, the electrical equipment theft, the writing in the sky…it all adds up to one thing : someone really doesn't like me.

Well, I can sit on my brains and worry, or I can go out and get to thr bottom of this. I think getting to the bottom of this is the better choice of the teoz but where do I start?

Captain Patricia Amber Nash, commander of the PEGASUS security team assigned to delivering Electro to his parole hearing, sits alone in an office in the justice building. In front of her are reams of paper. She is carefully ignoring the papers and staring at the ceiling, leaning her wooden chair back on its hind legs. She might be deep in thought or just daydreaming.

Hanging upside down, I tap on the window. The sudden noise catches her by surprise, and it is only by grabbing the table that she avoids pitching over onto the floor. As it is, she scattered papers across the office.

Rising from the table, she stomped to the window I was hanging outside of with as much decorum as she could muster. Through the insulated glass she mouthed the words, "what the hell do you want?" She doesn't look pleased.

"Dinner and a movie?" I shout back, loud enough to be heard through the glass. "But I'll settle for some info? How about letting me in before someone sees me out here and calls the cops?"

She looks at me for a long moment, as if weighing the options. Then she unlatches the pane and opens it. "Come in then," she says. "And make it quick. It's getting cold out there."

"Do you know how much paperwork there is for an escaped criminal?" She asks, stopping to pick up the scattered papers.

"No, but if you hum a few bars I'll pick it up." I say.

She shoots me a glare that says, 'dont mess with me; it's been a bad day'.

"What do you want now?" She asks, trying to reorganize the papers and then giving it up as a lost cause.

"How about if I get your runaway electric company back?" I ask.

"Given a choice, id rather take a week off in Jamaica, but it woukd nake things easier," she says, picking up one official-looking form and quoting: 'If said incident involved metahuman individuals, please designate on a separate form the nature, identity, and abilities displayed by said individual(s) and their bearing on the incident.' "can you imagine what it would be like if the Avengers came by to help? At least they have this stuff on reprinted forms." She looks up at me. "Right. Information. What do you want?"

"Well," I say, "the last time we met you were loudly handling the cleanup from that little kidnapping, so we didn't have too much time to chat. And I walked right into the middle of that half-painted picture, so I have no real idea why you were there in thr middle of Manhattan in the first place, unless it's standard procedure to ship dangerous criminals through the heart of the city in the early evening. So, why don't you take it from the top and don't leave out any whys and what-fors."

Captain Nash begins to explain. She and her team were to escort Electro from his cell to a specially prepared holding area for his parole hearing tomorrow morning. While in transit, the team was ambushed by four individuals carrying electrical discharge guns. They opened fire as one, overturning the armored car transporting Electro and blowing open the rear doors. They pinned down the PEGASUS troops while two of the team went in and pulled Electro from the wreck. Electro was heavily sedated, additionally restrained with an insulated straightjacket.

Two of the men headed down the alleyway with the bundled Electro while their comrades kept Nash's troops pinned down with their shock-zookas. By the time I arrived on the scene and free their fire, the others had apparently already escaped out the other side of the alley, but not before leaving an explosive package in the sewers, which according to record, public works is citing as the cause of the blackout.

"Anyone see the goons leave with Electro?" I ask.

"We performed a building-to-building search on the side of the alley with the NYPD, but it turned up nothing. They've vanished completely." She replies.

"How about the goons I fought?"

"Resting comfortably," she says, stretching to relieve a neck cramp. "They were checked out for prior arrests, but they're small fry. They've been keeping pretty mum, but what we did get before their lawyers told them to shut up is that Electro was the prize of their operation, not the boss."

I nod and she continues, "The outfits look like those of HYDRA but are only imitation, According to a source at SHIELD. Talking to the people at SHIELD, by the way, was like pulling teeth; they know HYDRA is up to something, but they don't think they're connected to this kidnapping."

"So that leaves us with the question of where they went?"

"Maybe the earth swallowed them?" Says Nash.

I smile beneath my mask. "Maybe it did, at that. I'm going to go check out the crime scene. Maybe I'll find something else. Thanks, and I owe you a dinner and a movie." I head for the window.

As I dive out into the night air, Nash shouts after me, "how about you just bring me back a pizza? JI'll be here all night! And close the window next time, there's a draft!"

Electro!

I swing out into the night.

Electro's the key to the entire operation. Whoever stole the equipment was probably in cahoots with the master of electricity and busted him out only when everything was already in place.

If Electro is working with another super-powered baddie, there may be an Intel leak in the PEGASUS security. That thought may have occurred to Captain Nash already.

I retrace my path to where the Project PEGASUS troopers were blasting it out with Electro's mysterious allies earlier in the evening. The ruined armored car has already been pulled from the street, and traffic is flowing normally (for NY, anyways) past the alleyway.

The alleyway itself is no longer empty as I remembered it. The bureau of public works has set up a generator and equipment to clear away the debris kicked up by the explosion and make repairs. Signs warning : 'Men Working' are at both ends of the alley. I land atop one of the buildings overlooking the alley. The alleyway is singed darkly from the blast, more so toward the end where the PEGASUS troopers were fighting.

What if the purpose of the blast was to wipe out any traces of pursuit…if the men ledt behind were abandoned? Then that explosion might be more than just a poor going-away gift.

I swing down the alleyway itself.

"Hey!" Says one of the workers, looking up. "It's that spider-guy!"

"Spider-Man!" I correct him, spinning through the air and landing in front of the workers–three guys apparently on a coffee and pastry break. The speaker nods, a second workman looks surprised, while the third simply bits into an oozing jelly-filled donut. "How's work going?" I ask.

"Real mess down there," says the first worker, apparently the spokesperson for the group. "Looks like they had enough explosives down there to whole the block to the moon and back!" He chuckles at some private joke.

"Then I need your professional opinion," I say, leaning back against the generator. "If someone was down there a minute or two before the explosion, could that person have survived?"

"Hmmm," the union rep rubbed his jaw. "I dunno, man, it's not likely. He'd have to move very fast or it'd be zoom…bang!"--the spokesman claps his hands together and thrn motions to the heavens. His two fellow workmen grunt in agreement. "The passage is blocked and clogged in both directions, and it's gonna take a while to dig a clear path through."

The sewers are closed off by fallen debris, and anyone down there might have been caught in the blast.

The valuable human labor resource flashes his light around the wreckage left underground by the blast. There is a thick smell of something smoldering, and the workman shouts to be heard over the steady din of water running over shattered concrete.

"The main part of the blast is this way," says the worker, making his point by panning the lught over the mess of obliterated concrete that almost fills the passageway. "The other way"--he flashes the light to the area behind me–"is almost as bad, and it leads to a dead end, according to the city plans."

"Such an option." As I glance forward and back at the equally dismal-looking stretches of alleyway.

"Mind if I lend you a hand?" I ask, reaching toward the debris blocking the sewer.

"Don't mind if you do," says the workman. "I'll hold the light."

The debris is not as tightly packed as I first thought, and I quickly dig my way through to the other side of the rockfall. The ceiling holds, as well, and my companion follows me, flashing the light around as soon as I reach the other side.

The other side of the rockfall looks just like a New York sewer. The slime on the concrete appears to remain undisturbed after at least a few generations, and nothing is out of place.

"Blast," I say, my voice echoing down into the depths of the pipes.

"You were expecting something else maybe?" Asks my new friend.

"Some kind of clue. I had a hunch Electro escapes down here. There's another blocked passage behind us?"

"Yeah, but it leads to a dead end."

The map the workmen have of the sewers shows a dead end on the other side of the passage. Which means that Public Works may just decide to forget about digging it out. A perfect way for someone to cover their tracks.

I start digging through the slime-covered rock filling the passageway. The laborer shine his light as I use my spider-enhanced strength to lift and burrow.

I am about halfway through the second blockage, and feel (relatively) fresh air on my face, when my Spider-Sense gives off a sharp warning buzz. Bits of plaster and stone rain down around me. The passage's ceilings are dangerously unstable, and the whole street is about to drop on our heads!

Thinking quickly, I brace the sagging rock above me with both hands, and call down to the worker who accompanied me.

"Quick," I shout, my voice carrying down the sewers. "Get me something to brace this wall with!"

The light that has been shining on my digging flickers and turns away, and I am left in the darkness for a moment. I hear the drip of fetid water and the shout of the worker to his fellow workmen. My arms are beginning to tire, but if I let go, the entire street could cavr in.

After a short eternity, the light returns, with the workmen behind it. "Here ya go, Spider-buddy." The spokesperson says, placing a large device next to me. "One handy-dandy sewer jack, at your service." He turns a crank at one end of the tool and it expands against the floor and ceiling, taking the weight off of my aching shoulders.

"That was close," I say, and in that same inatant, I notice the workman's light flashing down the passage that has been fully opened by the shift.

"That's funny," he says. "The sewer is supposed to end fifteen feet from here."

Instead, the sewer continues down into the darkness. Along the concrete floor of this unknown sewer, the algae and moss have been pushed aside, leaving a clear path into the depths of the city.

'Come into my parlor, said the spider to the fly'. Or is it, 'said the Electro, to the Spider-Man'?

I dig out my spider-beacon from my belt, but the workman who has been helping hands me his flashlight.

"That itty-bitty candle ain't gonna cut it if you're going in that direction," he says. "Take this one. It's halogen beam will illuminate a hundred yards down here. It's also shockproof, so you can beat the crocagators with it."

I take the flashlight, saying "thanks…er…"

"Ed. Name's Ed." Says the worker, giving a toothed grin.

A sewer work named Ed. Only in New York. I tell Ed and his buddies that if they don't hear from me or see.me in two hours, they should go to the police with what they know. With that, I head down the path.

Off to see the wizard. Or the doctor. Or whoever.

I reach a corner that carries me out of sight of the repairmen, so I turn and wave, and am gone.

The path through the slime is uncomfortably smooth, clean, and recent in origin. I've gone about a mile underground before I realized what would cause it to be that way: a ground effects vehicle, or hovercraft, traveling on a cushion of air. That cushion would push up the slime and debris as it passed.

I hear a chittering to my right, and swing my light to reveal a large rat, sitting on a pipe. The rat holds motionless for a moment, then squeals and bounds away.

Yuck. The last thing I want to do is meet up with the everyday run-of-the-mill vermin while I'm hunting down a real rat.

The sewer passage widens and crosses a wider sewer, this one carrying a stream of darker water. The path of the blasted algae disappears at the edge and reappears on the other side, about 20 feet away, and then disappears down the tunnel.

Ceiling's too low to leap. The walls are slicker than Jameson on payday. But I think it's climb or swim. I don't think they have a limo service down here.

The walls are covered with a thick gooey slime, as is the ceiling. As I reach the apex of the vault, I hit a patch of moss that must have been what prinitive man used for Teflon.

Choosing my way carefully, I make my path through the slippery muck to the other side. At that moment, I think I see movement in the water: probably another rat or something. Ahead there is a flash of light other than my own, dimming my flashlight. I check out the light at the end of the tunnel. With my luck, it will be an oncoming train.

The glow intensifies until I'm standing in front of a pair of massive doors illuminated by a single powerful light. The trail through the slime ends here. To the right of the doors is a parked hovercraft with a wide bed, suitable for carrying spools of wire.

No welcome mat, though, and I bet this place isn't listed with Triple A, either, looks like I'll have to break in.

I approach the huge metal doors. Something is rotten in the state of New York. Huge metal doors. Hmm….

I dig out a spare metal cartridge of web-fluid and toss it at the doors. The intensity of the flash upon connection momentarily blinds me.

Makes sense. Electro, electrical supplies, huge conductive metal doors. Put it all together and now it spells T-R-A-P. Now, how to get through it without becoming a bag of spider flavored bacon-bits.

I see the hovercraft and smile beneath my mask.

Using a good deal of my noninsulative webbing, I create a battering ram at the front of the hovercraft parked outside. Another two minutes and ai have hot-wired the vehicle and am backing it away from the entrance.

I back up to where the trail crosses the stream, then throw the hovercraft into high speed. The air whistles past me as the vehicle bears down on the doors.

"Cowabunga!" I shout in a loud surfer accent, jumping off the hovercraft at the last possible moment.

The craft slams into the electrified double doors at full tilt. Sparks dance off the webbing protecting the front of the craft. The door gives way with a bone-shuddering crash, and the way is clear.

Score one for Yankee ingenuity. I walk through the now-open passageway.

My feet pad across the concrete, and I notice the area is lit, though not well lit. A single light every twenty feet shines dimly, giving the impression of a coal mine.

Suddenly, the passageway widens into a larger, dark room. I see nothing and hear only an electronic hum of whirring and clicking, and I am reaching for my spider-beacon when lights come on and I see that I'm surrounded!

The lights come on suddenly, blinding me for an instant before revealing a cavernous chamber with a single entrance at the far side of the room. And before me stand five of my greatest foes!

Electro is there, blocking the far exit. Above him hovers the Vulture, beating his long mechanical wings to stay in place. Sandman, who has the ability to convert his body into sand, is to my right. To my left is Kraven the Hunter, holding a net, and behind the criminal sportsman is Mysterio, master of illusion.

Five of the Sinister Six. "What's up, fellas?" I ask a loud.

The five move toward me without a sound.

"Lemme guess," I jab. "It's International Pick-On Spidey Day. Ya know, when I was trying to figure out who was behind this mess, I never figured it would be a committee of chumps."

My foes are strangely silent as they move in. Best to hit them before they all converge. I can reach any of them. Who should I take down first?

There's no way these five could have gotten back together, even to kill me. That indicates a hoax, and Mysterio is the criminal master of such illusion.

I bound effortlessly over Kraven, and land feet-first on Mysterio's glowing fishbowl helmet. The helmet cracks and shatters under the force of my blow, revealing a maze of wires and circuits beneath. The form of Mysterio crumples to the ground, but not before violently shocking me.

I stand for a moment, looking at the shattered remains of Mysterio as the vicious voltage courses through my body. Robot, and wired to shock on destruction. How many of the others as well?

The others are still moving toward me. Picking myself up, I run to the far exit, where there is a switch and a metal door.

I pull the switch down, and the low-register clicking and buzzing of machinery in the room fades. I look back at my remaining foes, and they are frozen in position.

Dumb robots, I knew the Sinister Six couldn't have staged a reunion bash, even to bash Spidey. These little playthings were obviously guards for the main gates, and the switch allows someone from this end to shut them down so personnel can go in and out. Simple, once you know it. Pull the plug and the toys wind down.

The metal door hums and rises to the ceiling. Five down and it's obvious now who the sixth is.

I pass into the next corridor.

"Ta-Ta, Troopies," I wave back at the inanimate robots. "Time to reveal the puppeteer."

This passage is similar to the last one, dimly lit. At the end I can see through an open door and into a brightly lit room. From my far station, I can see some machinery. The smell of ozone is strong in the air. The walls of this passage are lined with wooden doors, and these are shut and have bars in the windows.

I am halfway down the hallway when a low voice says, "wait!" In a hushed tone. I see a hand wave at me from the bars.

"Doctor Jefferson, I presume?" I say, looking at the psychiatrist captive in the cell. It all fits together now–with five of the Sinister Six being used as lackeys, the sixth must be the head honcho. He must have put another robot in his cell to avoid suspicion.

The bespectacled man nods and puts a finger to his lips. He hands me a note.

The note reads : 'He can hear but cannot see us. He has captured Electro and is using him to power a weapon to destroy you. There is a trap at the end of the corridor. Look up. Don't hurt him.'

I look up and see a ventilator grill above me. I nod to him and, trying to make as little noise as possible, rip his lock out of the door. The complete, I give him an A-OK hand sign.

Trusting that Jefferson is honest and the events aren't monitored, I rip out the grillwork and crawl into the ducts. After about five minutes of crawling I reach another grill. Looking out, I see an incredible sight.

It could best be described as an electrical elephant! It is a huge, almost obscene machine, occupying most of the room. At it's core is Electro, glowing like a supernova star and apparently in pain. At it's crown, riding the elephant, is Doctor Octopus awaiting my appearance at the doorway. The "trunk" of the elephant, the barrel of the weapon, which is probably what did the skywriting is pointed at the doorway.

Definitely the work of a disturbed mind. I look at my foe as I work the grillwork off the vent. At least I'm out of the line of fire.

"Where is he…?" Hisses the Doctor, his mechanical arms adjusting power levels and turning dials on the huge machine. "Why hasn't he appeared?"

"Sorry, Ock!" I shout, leaping from my hiding place. "I had to use the service entrance."

I leapt out onto the machine where the beam could not reach me.

As I land on the machinery, sparks spread out from my fingertips. I feel a tingle akin to my Spider-Sense, but otherwise the massive machine does no damage. Atop it, the madman who has been trying for most of the evening to kill me is watching me, stock still.

Ok, hero, now what? I spy Ock's arms beginning to writhe along the machine toward me. Attack? Talk to him? Free Electro (who really looks like he's suffering)? Sabotage the machinery? He's had me on my heels and on the run all evening, now it's my turn! Think!

First things first. I scrabble across the machine's sides to where Electro is held prisoner. The master of electricity howls soundlessly on the inside of a glass prison. Above me, Octopus is starting to react. I see Doc's metallic arms reach toward me.

The bowl is designed for Electro's powers, not my spider-enhanced abilities. It shatters with a crash and a bolt of lightning erupts from the prison. I am dlung violently backwards and topple off the side of the machine.

"OCTAVIUS!!" Comes an inhuman shout from the sphere. "YOU HAVE USED ME, OCTAVIUS! YOU HAVE HURT ME!! NOW I SHALL HAVE VENGEANCE!! I NEED MY REVENGE!"

Electro emerges from his cage shining like a bright white beacon, throwing everything around me into shadow. Ignoring me completely, Electro moves up the sides of the machine towards Doc Ock.

Ock is read as well, two of his mechanical arms grabbing nets and weapons, while the other pair extend, carrying his body high above his opponent. Electro grasps one metallic arm, and a yellow glow pulsates and courses up the arm to the mad doctor. Octopus howls and stutters in pain.

Uh-oh. The genie is out the bottle. The pair are locked in a deadly embrace. The machinery they are fighting on is breaking, falling apart.

I bound out of the chamber just as the machine starts to smoke and the ceiling caved in. The walls and floors are buckling as I run at top speed out of the complex, only stopping to grab Dr.Jefferson, the imprisoned psychiatrist and bound out. Behind me is the cacophonous roar of explosions.

From the sewer I make my way to the surface. There is one last explosion, this one reaching the surface (an abandoned garbage dump) and spreading light (and garbage) into the sky.

"You think they…" the doctor starts to ask, faltering.

"Survived?" I finish for him. "Don't know. Their kind always has a way of turning up. For now, one more bad guy plan has gone smash, leaving us and the City of New York to pick up the pieces."

The pair of us watch the fire and listen for the approaching sirens as the police come to investigate. I have saved the city, once again.

[ninesuns2025]

Since a mysterious diety interfered with a worldwide extinction event, the world has been dominated by anthropomorphic birds of prey called Avianthropes or Raptors. They live on a supercontinent called NineSuns, forming nine distinct societies based on the climates and particular way of life they lead.

The story follows three raptors as NineSuns undergoes a massive shift in geopolitics following the coronation of a tyrannical bearded vulture named Blackout.

[ale-is-not-illiterate]

to be devoured, sara tantlinger

genre: fiction, novella, short story, horror, thriller, lgbt/queer

synopsis:

What does carrion taste like? Andi has to know. The vultures circling outside her home taunt and invite her to come understand the secrets hiding in their banquet of decay. Fascination morphs into an obsessive need to know what the vultures know. Andi turns to Dr. Fawning, but even the therapist cannot help her comprehend the secrets she’s buried beneath anger-induced blackouts. Her girlfriend, Luna, tries to help Andi battle her inner darkness and infatuation with the vultures. However, the desire to taste dead flesh, to stitch together wings of her own and become one with the flock sends Andi down a twisted, unforgivable path. Once she understands the secrets the vultures conceal, she must decide between abandoning the birds of prey or risk turning her loved ones into nothing more than meals to be devoured.

[the-whispers-of-death]

katie, who's always wanted a big family: we're going to meet the extended family :)

mārīte: uhh.. you sure? i think that'll piss off blackout,,,

katie: i have the plane ready :)

the private jet in the distance: *blows up* (rigged by blackout)

katie: ... i no longer have a plane ready :(

~ rusty

Katie, Blackout's doing you a favor, trust me.

The Rhinelanders are vultures. They take and take without any care about the person they're taking from. They care about two things: themselves and the public's image of them. If they feel you're no longer of use to them, they'll abandon you.

And unfortunately, Frost grew up in the foster care system and never grew close with any of the children that were in the foster homes with him. So alas, no big family on his side.

[ec-reviewer]

Days 1-3 - Customization and Tutorial

Hey guys, GreyedWings here. I’m here to give an update on where I’m at in Exclamania. The first two days were spent customizing my character. There are seemingly infinite options, to the point where you can make early angels, living objects of any object imaginable, and even species from really obscure things, like Sun Crawlers from Project Blackout, a literal fangame for a different game.

I also saw the customization did have some bugs, like for some reason having all the textures turn into lobsters at one point, forcing me to reload the game, but it’s a minimal issue.

For my avatar, I decided to go with something you don’t see when you get bird avatars in games, turkey vultures. I went for a basic one, as living in the rural midwest makes you see those a lot on the road.

As for the tutorial, it’s longer than I’d expect a tutorial to be, but it showed off a lot of key features listed on the steam page, and the controls for the creature I chose. I think I saw a horse clipping into the ground during the tutorial. It was honestly funny, because I think a player placed down a sign saying “To the Plinko with you!” in front of the horse.

Speaking of that, players that are newer apparently opt to use signs rather than voice chat or the in-game text feature, but people who played for longer use voice chat primarily, which is odd, but I’ll take it. I think there’s a bug with the time players have been on, because I’ve seen people who have played for 1 year straight, which the game wasn’t even in open access then.

Either way, it’s still cool to see this game, I think I need to thank the devs at some point.

[alexcbusinessofmedia]

Current Events Blog: The Disney-Charter Dispute

Tuesday, September 19, 2023:

On Monday, September 11, 2023, Walt Disney Co. and the popular cable television provider, Charter-Communications (also known as Spectrum), finally settled their weeks-long contractual dispute through a landmark distribution agreement among the two companies which shed light on the potential future of cable television with the rise of streaming services. As Brian Steinberg writes in his Variety article, the month-long dispute between the two television giants came as a result of, “battling over a renewal for carriage of Disney’s various cable networks on Charter’s major-market cable systems.” However, the feud between the two corporate giants had come to a head the week before when Disney, which journalist David Marcelis breaks down in his article from the Wall Street Journal, abruptly left the “fifteen million customers of Charter’s Spectrum cable service” without access from Disney’s most popular networks, including, ESPN, ABC, FX, and the Disney Channel. This decision led to a week-long blackout ultimately culminating last Monday in which the two parties ended their feud by finalizing a deal, as Joe Flint reports in another WSJ article, in which Disney agreed to “restore its popular channels, including ESPN and ABC, to the cable operator’s” millions of subscribers. Going further, Flint explains that, “Charter has agreed to pay Disney higher rates to carry its TV channels,” in return, however, “for being able to provide the Disney+ and ESPN+ streaming services to its Spectrum pay-TV subscribers.” The dispute behind Disney granting Spectrum-TV’s customers complimentary access to Disney’s extremely popular and profitable streaming services was “a big point of contention during the standoff,” Flint describes, as the former grew frustrated about, “paying higher fees for Disney-owned channels while Disney was investing heavily into streaming services that compete directly with Charter’s cable business.” 

With that being said, throughout my research on this current event, I was extremely interested by reading different perspectives regarding whether the settled agreement was a win for both Charter and Disney, a step in the right direction for the success of both streaming services and cable television, or whether the public feud had cemented as Marcelis asserts in his aforementioned article titled, “Disney Fight Marks Cable TV’s Last Stand,” the “endgame for cable TV.” While I do to a certain extent agree with one Vulture article which touted, “What If Everyone Won the Charter-Disney Dispute?” I only believe that these “wins” for cable television are only feasible for the short-term. In the long-run, however, I agree with Marcelis as Disney’s actions do shed light on how entertainment companies, including Warner Bros. Discovery and Paramount Global, have jumped ship alongside the many “consumers abandoning cable TV at an accelerated pace,” and these streaming giants have essentially monopolized the entertainment industry. Ultimately, the profitability and competitive edge they have substantially gained has been heavily consequential of these companies “further enticing consumers” as Marcelis elaborates, “to cut the cord by putting some of their highest value cable content—news and sports—into streaming services that compete with cable TV.” For Walt Disney Co. to behave in such a way, to then essentially backpedal, it feels slightly hypocritical, and that was made even more evident in the way Charter’s representatives voiced their concerns and frustrations towards Disney in these publications, but ultimately had to bite their own tongue in order to stay afloat. 

Word Count: 556 words.

[becameundone]

WHERE: outside atticus' apartment, the marionette WHEN: 22nd june, after midnight WHO: tomo & atticus ( @pcisxnivys )

Tomo considered himself a sort of nocturnal creature; without the cover of night, he felt bare and exposed, even if the blackout blinds and the curtains drawn over them were doing a good job of hiding the truth. Or, maybe, it had nothing to do with the long, drawn-out days and a lot more to do with the reporters and news crews mulling about the town, vulture-like in the way the mere whiff of death had drawn them in. They picked at the bones of that mystery, tearing all the information they could from the locals as though it were flesh from a rotting carcass. It had been the same when his father offed himself and the maggot tabloids had swarmed in before he'd had to chance to even begin decomposing; the human tragedy at the middle of it all was forgotten, looked over in favour of the enticing glimmer of a good story.

In any case, tonight was yet another one of those nights. He knew the shape of them all too well already; he'd be up for hours, the promise of sleep dangled just out of reach but his head too full for him to bear staying awake any longer. There was no dropping by Min's place and pestering him for company, for his cousin didn't take well to Tomo appearing in the middle of night and, besides, Tomo didn't have it in him to drive. That same problem also kept him away from the nightlife, although not exclusively. For a long time, Tomo had sought distraction from his woes in the halls of nightclubs but Anchorage was different. In Tokyo and LA, he could have slipped into private rooms on the power of his own name and a mutual friend or two. He could stumble into bathroom cubicles with his tongue down the throat of a young star who was just as bound to secrecy as he was. That sort of veil didn't exist here. Tomo could only exist out in the open and right now, that sounded like Hell. He had resolved, instead, to do something different. It was a first but Tomo was okay with firsts.

Now, he had made his way to the apartment floor directly above his. Although the hallway was well-lit and roomy, its vast emptiness was oppressive. Stood there in his shaken state, Tomo felt as though the spotless perfection would swallow him hole. Nothing clung to these walls, they looked as untouched by any human hand. This place was not allowed to have flaws or blemishes. On paper, neither was Tomo. He wondered if there were cracks in the foundations, deep beneath the matte paint and sleek lacquer. He swallowed a heavy breath before approaching the door. There was no doubt in his mind that, the moment he opened his mouth, he would sound just as frantic as he felt but, if he were lucky, nobody would think that was anything out of the ordinary. Tomo wrapped his knuckles on the door and waited for it to open.

"He~y," he said, a bouncy lilt to his voice, "Atticu~s, Acchan— Acchan? Can I call you Acchan? Nah, probably not, right? It's cool if I stop by, yeah? I mean, sure, tell me to fuck off if you need to but I thought I'd just say hi." (Somehow, that came out sounding a lot calmer than he'd expected. Phew.)

[brandonwayneb]

lol im not racists,

but i didnt expect i'd see an entire race so easily submitted to Bananas, and Pawn Shops

LOL! endless sarcasm.

thats why the actual 'agents'

never stop sending me 'black throw away rag shit'

I dont even like black people 'IN THAT WAY' no offense,

most of their war or code languages, are all riddled in white craziness.

i cant handle too many crazy languages at once lol,

and its mind blowing like literally THEEEE ENNNTIIIRE black race is simmed on the stupidest "goo goo ga ga" blame shits.

I cant.

and I wont,

deal with THAT low..

the whites call that "Call Blackout"

"Call Bingo Was Their Namo"

and all kinds of que pawns and vultures

Coupons.

Vultures.

LOL!!! sorry but unimaginably insane!!

this is why white agents who "know" literally wont stop harassing me with "nit ger" psy and "nanotubes"

Nancy Fancy

and Blackhole and BlackJack

subway Bombs.

LOL.

I cant deal with the amount is ignorance!!

I can help,

i can ALWAYS help,

but i cant save entire races!!

nobody can!

we are all supposed to work together to the amount and degree that collectively honors

each type of race

to also have space for them to honor their own!

we honor they.

and they have just as much space, to honor themselves, as do we.

This is why i throw away "black" comments,

I only talk to black people who are nice and cool,

but if they talk "code" or "government"

their as good as nothing,

because the entire government doesnt give them the proper voice,

they would only talk trash codes and throw away languages

but they wouldn't realize themselves

I love everyone.

but if theres too many corrupt agent codes, i will purposely In Soult everyone, and completely skip crazy cross word puzzles

I deal with Cross

I deal with Truth

I deal with Translations,

not DE PSY FER RING

[fenmere]

When we first came out as plural in 2016, we were introduced to another system with whom we became great friends. And we were both autistic, which mean hours and hours and hours of infodumping about our experiences with each other. This was amazing and wonderful, and we highly recommend it to everyone, if you can swing it. We've also then had similar conversions with a number of other systems, including our girlfriends. Because we were in the habit of it. Something we've found is that while every system is different, almost every system will also go through periods of time where they'll feel more like one kind of system or another (as defined by all those microlabels). A system with DID with a history of blackouts and massive amnesia between members will have months and years where they may have a singular system member fronting each day and have to keep a bullet journal to keep things straight through all the amnesia, and then have months or years where they feel very blendy and co-conscious and can't tell each other apart very well, let alone identify who is fronting. Because of this, we've done a lot of journaling about what things feel like to us, which we've mostly put in our Facebook, which isn't available to the public. But, two things: 1. Labels, and even diagnoses, really aren't terribly useful actually. They create artificial divides that aren't really all that accurate. Though they can give an important sense of selves identity and describe in broad strokes your most common or average experiences. They don't need to be discarded entirely, but they absolutely shouldn't be viewed as prescriptive. 2. We do continue to write about experiential aspects of plurality! We just put it in our novels now. We also try to give our characters different experiences (all mostly based on our own, but also with accounts derived from things friends have related to us). So, you can read our books and go, like, "We're probably more like Beau than Erik." We also have our characters compare notes, because that's what comes naturally to us anyway, and that means those who aren't POV characters still get to relate some of their internal lives to the reader. The thing is, we've also found that a LOT of other authors have done this. So many fantasy and science fiction books that we've read that aren't explicitly about plurality still manage to describe internal experiences in ways that are very relatable to us.

We've just finished reading The Rings of the Master series by Jack L. Chalker, for instance (which deserves some content notices for 1980s liberal well-meaning racism and sexual assault, mind you), and the way that the character Vulture experiences its mind is so plural and so similar to things we've felt.

So, when you're talking to your friends, you can go, like, "You know when Pearl went into her own subconscious and it was sort of Pearlception? I had a dream like that." Or, "The first five minutes of Sense8 is what it's really like in our head when we're co-conscious." Only, with countless books that are out there.

sometimes i get kind of exhausted by how hard it can be to find anyone describing their own experience with a specific kind of plurality.

It's so easy to find words and terms and definitions, and so much harder to find anyone talking about what it's like to be those things.

does that make sense? looking through pluralpedia can feel so large, and so empty.

[jennyboom21]

Let us guide you like a nymph through the woods of Swift’s ninth album. Photo: YouTube

Every Taylor Swift song throughout history can be described as “music to braid your best friend’s hair to,” but with the surprise release of Swift’s ninth studio album evermore, finally, girls with long, creepy braids and sweet crushes on their best friends are getting the representation they deserve.

Swift announced on Instagram Thursday morning, like a shot of elderflower syrup to the heart, that she’d be following up the surprise July release of folklore with its surprise sister album, evermore, at midnight, December 11. Immediately, I returned from the haunted forest I’d been living in since July via horse and buggy seeking WiFi. After a few listens, I must say, evermore absolutely fucks. If this is truly folklore’s sister, then it’s folklore’s more powerful, hulking sister. If folklore is Piper Halliwell — subtle, thoughtful, stressful — then evermore is Prue, in that her power is unmatched and she will kill you.

This album is so excellent that I’m suspicious: Did someone pry open a cursed locket and damn Taylor to an eternity of Albums of the Year? Either that or Taylor has Jack Antonoff and Aaron Dessner trapped in those pods from The Matrix, siphoning their woodsy power. If it’s actually the latter, nobody red pill them — sad Swifties need this. evermore is woods-dyke excellence. Here’s my analysis of every song.

“willow”

God, there are so many easter eggs in the “willow” music video — this is exhausting. The video prominently features Taeok Lee, a dancer from her Red tour; there are numerous folklore callbacks, like Swift following a golden string toward her lover (“invisible string”); we see her wearing the titular folklore “cardigan;” a younger Taylor plays in a blanket fort (“seven”). But something that’s gone severely underlooked here is that this music video is very aesthetically similar to Lesbian Bonnet Films, which if you don’t know, is an emerging genre of depressing lesbian movies set before Penicillin existed. Between the witchcraft Taylor performs in the music video (she’s literally wearing a cloak — savagely gay) and the overall bonnet energy happening here, I think “willow” is actually a trailer for a new A24 lesbian movie that will inexplicably be written by a man.

“champagne problems”

As one of the three songs co-written by William Bowery — whom Taylor revealed to be her b*yfriend J*e A*wyn in the also-surprise folklore long pond sessions Netflix concert film — “champagne problems” is depressing as hell. The piano intro alone is enough to politely tap me over the edge. J*e also co-wrote “exile” and “betty” on folklore. As a person who deeply wishes Taylor were queer, admittedly, I’ve had trouble accepting J*e into my heart. But with lyrics like “November flush and your flannel cure,” and a tendency to romanticize the worst things that have ever happened to you, I do feel like J*e can relate to me. I’m not quite ready to spell his name without an asterisk, but these things take time. What was I talking about? Oh yeah, this song is about heartbreak or whatever.

“gold rush”

Yes, some fans have speculated that with lyrics like “everybody wants you” and “what must it be like to grow up that beautiful,” this song is about Harry Styles, who has a song called “golden,” and is also extremely beautiful. I might have bought that… if I didn’t know that “gold” is a trigger word in Kaylorlore which opens a Pandora’s box of references to Swift’s rumored romantic relationship with former best friend Karlie Kloss. Her reputation album features numerous Sapphic “gold” references: On “Dress” and “Dancing With Our Hands Tied,” songs about loving someone in secret, Swift sings “Made your mark on me — golden tattoo,” and “You painted me golden.” Kaylors (Taylor and Karlie truthers) believe “gold” lyrics point to the night Taylor and Karlie were photographed wearing matching gold flash tattoos. So, yeah, read a fucking book.

‘tis the damn season

Like folkore, evermore features anthology stories written from characters’ perspectives rather than Swift’s POV. “‘tis the damn season” is tied to “dorothea,” and is about the experience of coming home for the holidays and rekindling an old flame (more on Dorothea in a bit). Given lyrics like “you could call me babe for the weekend,” “I’m stayin’ at my parents’ house,” and “I escaped it too, remember how you watched me leave” — many people don’t know this — but this song is actually written from the perspective of Riley in Happiest Season. Played by Aubrey Plaza, Riley wasn’t hung up on her hometown old flame, Harper — but she definitely should have called Harper’s girlfriend Abby “babe” for the weekend. ’tis the GODDAMN season for THAT.

“tolerate it”

Ok, “tolerate it” made me unexpectedly burst into tears the first time I heard it. In a note to fans, Taylor wrote about an “‘unhappily ever after’ anthology of marriages gone bad,” about “infidelity, ambivalent toleration, and even murder.” A lover’s “ambivalent toleration” is the most harrowing to me, personally. No one has ever been as “ambivalently tolerated” as a queer girl who is way too nice to her best friend right before realizing she’s queer. Swift basically lobotomized me with the lyric, “I know my love should be celebrated, but you tolerate it.” Just bury me. Cover me in moss and dew and lay me next to a damp log to suffer through this album.

“no body, no crime” (ft. Haim)

Right after “tolerate it” comes Dark Marriage Anthology track two, the murderous “no body, no crime,” which features a long-awaited collaboration with Swift’s besties, Haim. In a YouTube chat, Swift revealed that “no body, no crime” was inspired by her love of true crime podcasts. The song follows a woman named Este (named for Este Haim) whose husband cheats on her. Swift told Entertainment Weekly, “Long story short, I’m the 4th Haim sister now, confirmed.” Can I just say: Writing fanfic about a Haim girl is extremely fucking queer. Writing yourself in as the fourth Haim sister? That’s gay, luv. This “Goodbye Earl” derivative work also reveals that one of Este’s sisters took out a life insurance policy on the cheating husband, who Taylor Swift then killed… Ok. Scheming? A cheating husband? Being in cahoots over a life insurance policy? I’m sorry, this song is about A Simple Favor — I will not be explaining.

“happiness”

Swift told her fans that “happiness” was the last song written on evermore, and was actually written last week in a Madewell. Ok that last part isn’t true, but as a white woman shaped like a rectangle, I can make Madewell jokes. “happiness” contains numerous references to The Great Gatsby, like “All I want from me now is the green light of forgiveness,” a possible allusion to the green light at the edge of Daisy’s dock, and “I hope she’ll be your beautiful fool.” In Gatsby, Daisy says her hope for her daughter is that she’ll be a fool: “That’s the best thing a girl can be in this world, a beautiful little fool.” Swift has alluded to Gatsby in the past, like her “roaring 20s” lyric in “the 1,” or “Feelin’ so Gatsby for that whole year” on “This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things.” This title is deceptive, as it’s actually quite heartbreaking, and is about literature, which feels somewhat exclusionary because gay people can’t read.

“dorothea”

Much like the folklore track “betty,” “dorothea” is written from a male perspective. At this point, I’ve had enough time to grow and mature past believing that writing a love song about a girl but insisting it’s from the male perspective is quite gay. I’m actually not mad about it anymore and feel really good about this. In a note to her fans, Swift said Dorothea is “the girl who left her small town to chase down Hollywood dreams.” Tied to “‘tis the damn season,” this song is written from the perspective of the old flame from Dorothea’s hometown, a man who will no doubt teach his Big City Girl the importance of Christmas Cheer, which she likely traded in for a lifeless, spiritless, atheist existence in the Big City (which is freezing). Honestly, Dorothea needs to leave this Christian flop behind and go back to being a lifeless atheist. Christmas Cheer?? A hometown b*yfriend who is probably Republican??? In this Great Depression????

“coney island” (ft. The National)

Unfortunately this song features many men (although I do feel that in writing about it, I am queering this space): Aaron Dessner’s band The National, vocals from Matt Berninger, and a co-writing credit from William Bowery a.k.a. J*e — ok fine, I’m choosing to show growth here — Joe Alwyn. The song is a teary ode to a lover who passed away. It also features a reference to my favorite Taylor song ever, “Delicate,” a song about that fraught early-dating period when the relationship is still so fragile. She sings, “Did I close my fist around something delicate? Did I shatter you?” And then I shattered so quickly and so violently that I became gay sand.

“ivy”

Sagittarius Season is upon us, folx. Taylor, noted Sag, says she released evermore to celebrate her 31st birthday, which is December 13. As a Sag myself (my birthday is the day after Taylor’s, not to brag), I feel comfortable saying that the “ivy” lyric “I wish to know the fatal flaw that makes you long to be magnificently cursed” is the most Sagittarius lyric ever. The drama! The belief in extreme literary phenomena like “fatal flaws!” The use of the word “cursed!” Also, “ivy” is the third song in the Dark Marriage Trilogy, and Swift left “ivy” and “willow” Easter Eggs within her evermore announcement Easter Egg. Again, exhausting. I cannot read nor do math — just give it to me straight.

“cowboy like me”

This song is about “two young con artists who fall in love while hanging out at fancy resorts trying to score rich romantic beneficiaries,” according to Swift. “cowboy like me” features background vocals from Marcus Mumford, a guest feature that was alluded to in an Instagram from inside his studio. The song features the magnificent lyric, “Perched in the dark, telling all the rich folks anything they wanna hear like it could be love, I could be the way forward, only if they pay for it.” So, “cowboy like me” is about scamming rich people — something we can and should do.

’long story short’

Reportedly, this is the most autobiographical song on evermore. In Swiftlore, it’s well known that Taylor met Joe Alwyn during a lull in her life, on the same night she met Tom Hiddleston, whom she briefly dated, then dumped and got together with Joe. “long story short” is about picking the wrong guy, but in this song, she ends up with the right guy (Joe). So, some fans think it’s a Hiddleston allusion, a Hiddleusion. Swift also sings, “But we live in peace,” a reference to folklore song “peace,” which is also allegedly about Joe. This song prominently features the word “misery,” which may or may not be a reference to 1990 Kathy Bates psychological thriller Misery — the original “mad woman.” I’m joking (barely).

“marjorie”

I love wholesome grandparent content. On folklore, the13th track is about Swift’s grandfather. On evermore, track 13 eulogizes her grandmother Marjorie Finlay, who was an opera singer. Finlay’s background vocals are actually featured on the track, which, for the record, is the correct way to honor a late family member — not by Frankensteining together a spooky hologram, @ Taylor’s nemesis K*nye W*st!!

“closure”

So, given that “closure” is about things ending terribly with someone (a friend, an ex, a malicious and megalomaniacal music manager), the song could be about any number of public beefs Taylor Swift has had (K*m and K*nye, C*lvin H*rris, S*****r B***n). Honestly, I respect a woman who beefs. Remaining friends with an ex is a very popular phenomenon within the queer community — and it’s great most of the time — but there’s something to be said for a woman who knows her worth and is firm about it. “Yes, I got your letter, Yes, I’m doing better, I know that it’s over, I don’t need your closure” is my new morning affirmation. This whole album is Taylor just absolutely mad with power, swinging her strap around post-Grammy noms.

“evermore” (ft. Bon Iver)

“evermore” is co-written by William Bowery (Joe), who also plays the piano on the track. It’s nice that she lets him do things now. She’s like, “Oh, you want to be a musician? Ok not now, mommy’s busy. Go play with your lil’ piano and make beep beep.” The title track has a very similar vibe to folklore’s “exile,” in that it also features Bon Iver and a William Bowery writing credit, but also in its stench of wintry death. “evermore” is brutal. It’s a pandemic depression anthem. The lyrics “Gray November, I’ve been down since July” and “Hey December, guess I’m feeling unmoored” resonate. It’s exactly how I’ve felt since folklore mowed down my mental health like a snowplow pushing a bunch of grey slush into a ditch. Taylor is sadbaiting here — profiting off a community of people who are sad — which is fine, because she’s clearly sad too, and as the ole saying goes, “it’s nice to have a friend.”

[floatingloop]

Part 9 of my Marvel’s Spider-Man Let’s Play

In this episode we crash a college party then we crash Oscorp’s systems

Marvel's Spider-Man is a 2018 action-adventure game developed by Insomniac Games and is a PlayStation exclusive.

Full Updated Playlist here

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