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bulletballetarchive1 · 4 years ago

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💍 Rings 💍

SO, this started off as something I wrote in third person. Then, because I was showing it to English Professors I rewrote it in 1st person. Which was my first time writing anything in this narrative. The only other thing I want to point out is that rather than New York, I placed The Littlejohn Family in the Midwest because I hoped the locality would better resonate with the audience. And with that said here we go!!

. . . . . . . . . . . . I have found that with my increasing age, those around me expect me to be a walking contradiction. Of course, they would never say this out loud, but I have watched as young women wait with bated breath anticipating for words of wisdom to emerge from my lips. I have also watched as some of these very same women then expressed surprise - astonishment even, that I am capable of recalling years long behind me.

The ability to recall my days spent within the walls of Julienne have brought on many gazes of wonder. But nothing brings forth an abundance of questions more than the fact that I can recall my grandfather with the same clarity.

Even as I keep to myself, the sight of menthol cigarettes neatly packaged and placed atop shelves reminds me of billowing smoke drifting through his dining room. A place I spent much of my childhood studying in.

Then, there are times when my heart swells with warmth when I see men like my husband conceal his silver locks with a flat, rounded cap. Unless Granddaddy was working in the barbershop or, if he was within the sanctity of his own home, a hat would always stay perched on his head. Yes, it was his trademark.

But, even among the woolen flat caps, the menthols, and the strong Southern twang revealing his Alabama roots, one of the things that I will always closely associate with my grandfather would be his rings. Grandaddy possessed so many rings, but I was not given permission to do anything except look on. Once, great admiration had been tied to my yearnful gazes. However when Ms. Bedel moved in, my days of secretly caressing thick, metallic gold ended. Like granddaddy, she too, is a person I will never forget.

In our early days together, my grandfather’s lover told me that she was not my mother and in that very same breath, her eyes narrowed as she further asserted she would never be my mother. Despite this, she fulfilled the needs my seven year old counterpart required when it came to maternal care.

Ms. Bedel, in my eyes, was a woman who was never truly appreciated by those around her. I know that she certainly wouldn't have been by today’s standards, either. Because even in my time as a child in 1961, there were whispers of how she was too strict. Too reflective of the period that cultivated her.

Her full name was “Lucille Tallulah Masters-Bedel.” At the time, I did not know how a person could have two last names, but later I would find that ‘Bedel’ came from her deceased husband. This was not necessary for me to know at the age of seven.

During my adolescence, a child was to stay in a child’s place: seen, not heard. Boundaries that children manage to cross today were intolerable in my time.

Being the ever obedient child I was, I never thought of doing anything other than what I was told. Appreciation factored into my blind ignorance and how could it not? Ms. Bedel was the one who bathed me at the end of each day. De-tangled my hair. Ensured I clasped my hands together and told God of my utmost gratitude each night. But even with this said, I have no doubt in my mind that each day I spent with Ms. Bedel, the more she came to love me.

My belief would be silently proven in how she provided me with the loveliest dresses. She made sure Granddaddy would use his hard-earned money so that I remained a well-groomed girl, decent for both neighbors and distant cousins to lay their eyes upon if they happened to see me run errands. I can even remember believing Ms. Bedel once purchased me the dress of my dreams.

It was all white with a delicately laced-collar. Lilac flowers in bloom decorated the fabric gorgeously. With my anklet socks and patent leather shoes, the pious women of the community would coo over me, sweetening my self-image by calling me names such as baby doll.

There came a point in which I had the honor of being among Ms. Bedel’s jewelry. That evening I was almost trembling in her lap. Watching intently as Ms. Bedel clutched onto a small key and inserted it into the jewelry box slot I could feel my heart pounding. With a turn the box was open and treasures were revealed right before my eyes.

As I had mentioned, I was an obedient child. If someone said, “don’t do that,” I would not engage in whatever was before me. If somebody said, “don’t speak,” I would never open my mouth. So being given permission to trace rings and necklaces and earrings with my little fingertips filled me with the utmost delight.

While basking in this privilege, I realized there existed differences between a man’s ring and a woman’s.

Granddaddy’s rings were thick accessories of solid colors, more often than not the dimmest shades of silver and gold. It was almost as if they were old decorations that lost what could once make them shine. There were a few bumps and prongs, but frankly, there is nothing else I can say that compares them to the mesmerizing jewels in Ms. Bedel’s prized jewelry box.

“Where do these come from?” I couldn’t help but ask. “Child, everything you see before you has a story.” I thought I would learn about the source of the beautiful little rocks in Ms. Bedel’s necklace, or where on earth the little diamonds in her rings came from. I was too ignorant to recognize the wistfulness that hung in my elder’s voice. “During the Harlem Renaissance, I held a man named Aliki Eliopoulos in the palm of my hand. He was bronze, Greek, and we thought we could make it through the odds.” The brief huff that blew from Ms. Bedel’s nostrils was strong: “one night, he found me after the curtains closed and he presented this. This necklace is dear to me…I suppose because I never quite knew where Aliki went.” Pointing out another piece of jewelry was not needed as Ms. Bedel rose whatever called to her the most.

“This engagement ring - not a wedding ring - engagement, was given to me by my first husband. To accept it would mean I would make a vow for him. He knew of my past, and knew that even if I couldn’t right my wrongs, I could try to start over with his name.”

Again, she expanded her chest with her second mighty huff. During that moment I wondered, how can this woman seem so disillusioned yet keep each belonging? Belongings that provide her with such unpleasant memories? Where does the hatred end and the sentiment begin?

“True love is a concept,” Ms. Bedel said, the resentment never leaving her tongue. “The idea of that sort of thing existing is new, too. People don’t realize that...but Delores.”

“Ma’am?” I replied. For no particular reason, I was stricken with fear in how she said my name. All I had known was that she said it with such sharpness that surely my own faults were on the verge of being mentioned - whatever those faults may have been.

“Do not follow in my footsteps.”

I believe Ms. Bedel was sixty-six at this time. The same age I am now. Ironically

enough, I feel I can understand her without even having the full pieces of her story. My grandfather was a lover of women who were respectable and clean. Women who would not taint his image by being well-known throughout the city for scandalous tales.

I will never say that Ms. Bedel was not a woman who presented herself with high caliber. She sang opera long before becoming involved with my grandfather. She possessed clothes in her closet that continued bearing their tags. Perhaps it was loneliness that brought my grandfather to her, but that I do not know for certain. All I know is that at the end of the day, Granddaddy felt Ms. Bedel would be the most appropriate woman to guide me through my adolescence.

Still, to think back on the many statements - the way her eyes fixed on me, lets me know she was not a pinnacle of virtuous deeds throughout her life.

However, at that particular moment as a child, all I knew was that I disliked the heavy silence her statement brought. It became my intention to steer away from talk of vows and purity so as I refocused on the piled riches, I noticed an emerald glistening among gold and rubies. The longer I stared into it, the more I noticed that it had lighter streaks. Appearing and disappearing depending on my movement. It was like thunder and lightning had been coursing within it. “Ms. Bedel...where did that ring come from?” I asked. “This -” she lifted it, studied it. “This belonged to my mother.” “Did her husband give it to her, too?”

“My mother was never married.” With that unpleasant remark came another pause that I felt lasted forever. When Ms. Bedel spoke again: it was clear and amazingly without strain, “she hailed from a place in the South that was so unimportant that it can’t even be defined by a name.” She paused, asking me: “Do you know what slave labor is?”

Even in my discomfort, I nodded. “What is it then?” Ms. Bedel did not believe I had a wealth of knowledge. I knew it just from the strength of her gaze. Timid, my fingers slid against the hardwood of her dresser. Not knowing any better, I began recalling how at the age of five Granddaddy decided it was time I learn how Africans - not even colored people, but Africans - were chained like dogs and brought to America. After that, they were bound to pick cotton all day under the sun. That was slave labor, my young mind decided.

“What Africans had to do...” I answered, just barely connecting my gaze with her own. “No.” My idea was correct, but wrong. “My mother may not have been picking cotton, but she did live under those horrid conditions. After I was born, my mother bundled me up and took me with her as she journeyed North. Of course, being a colored woman, she didn’t have the luxury of driving or possessing a fortune to get her there in an instant. She worked as a maid here and there until she reached New York...and there was one woman before that.” She paused, “We were in Kentucky…” Ms. Bedel refrained from speaking yet again, hissing: “I hate Kentucky...and I will never forget that woman as long as I live...she,” Ms. Bedel’s lips were curling, “she was downright nasty. “That woman sat so high on her horse, that she had my mother feeding her baby through her teat.” My face was surely pulling in disgust. I did not understand what was said just the right amount to be puzzled, but I understood enough to be both bewildered and uncomfortable. “From time to time, my mother would take little things from her house. Sugar, flour. Things that wouldn’t be missed. But before we left Kentucky and never looked back, my mother thought she deserved something more in return, and this ring was it. And after my mother passed on, this has been with me ever since…” Suddenly Ms. Bedel took on a soft and tender tone, it was as if she placed her past behind her. “Try it on.” Not only was I soothed by a far more preferable tone, but I was also elated. Yes, it felt as though I was ascending to new heights. My high emotions would soon leave as the ring was placed on my finger, limp. “Oh…” Ms. Bedel’s lips pushed out, sympathetic. “It’s too big for you…” “My fingers are too little…” I felt like I was an infant, helpless and insignificant. “Maybe.” Ms. Bedel took my hand into her own, covering it in love. “One day you’ll grow into it.” It was not shortly after this, but in gradual due time that when preparing me for an outing, Ms. Bedel would retrieve one of the necklaces from her sacred box and fasten it around my neck. In some cases, it was to enhance my church dress, or to simply show I was a colored girl of high esteem as she and I walked to a show downtown. Each time this was to occur Granddaddy would part his lips, sneering that Ms. Bedel was making me into a ‘fast’ girl. Originally, his disdain was ignorable. As the sole man in the house, if Ms. Bedel disagreed - and I, as a result, found a voice to also disagree: I could exit the house, beautiful.

Unfortunately, the days of the feminine rule Ms. Bedel and I shared left when cousin

Winston moved in. Although Winston and Granddaddy were separated by generations, their “masculinity” gave them a higher sort of power. If Granddaddy thought I was fast and if Winston thought I was fast, then it was so. From that point on, shiny gems would never again be around my neck.

I did not like this change. Prior to my aunt placing Winston in Granddaddy’s custody, I would receive comments from adults of how “lonesome” I must have been as an only child. I never thought I could be lonely, not when I had Granddaddy and Ms. Bedel’s company. In addition, I was also quite aware of the luck I possessed, because never did there come a time when I argued about what belonged to who. While the alterations that occurred in my childhood home were minimal at best with Winston’s arrival, they were quite jarring all the same. Breakfast was smaller, lunch and dinner too. I also had to be tolerant - patient - when Winston sat by my side, giving his own outlandish variations to the personalities of my beloved dolls. His rough housing even led to the tearing of Marilyn! And even though tears fell on my pillow that night by sunrise, I forgave him. One of the most noticeable changes was in how Ms. Bedel began to seldom speak to me. I thought it would be wise if I did not speak to her, as I acknowledged not just her body language but the dryness of her voice. The change that occurred was not my fault. Ms. Bedel simply detested my cousin.

In her eyes however, I was different. Different in the sense that when she met my grandfather, she met me too, and therefore knew what would come if she decided to move in. Winston was unlike me, not just due to gender or behavior, but because she never agreed to provide for him. Still, I did not know this. Instead, there were many days where I wondered if I had done something to evoke her coldness, but in truth I just didn't know of the hostile conversations taking place between the adults of the household. Some of my days were better than others, but the moment I made my greatest mistake came from one of my worst. I returned home with low spirits after school. It did not matter that it was Friday as the memory of Lucinda Carter’s wrongdoing remained fresh in my heart and mind. I will admit that in my childhood I more often than not felt an intense desire to be accepted by my peers. I was well-aware I had been viewed as the perfect, ideal child by my elders, but to those in my classroom I was thought of as little more than an old woman, masquerading as a child. During the occasional moments they were willing to overlook my small, shifting eyes and unusual silence, I was filled with jubilance. With the little friends I had, I joyously followed to play Duck, Duck, Goose. With Lucinda circling us, I could feel the tension build. Each moment was thrilling. No one knew who the Goose would be, and I even speculated that it may be Thomas or Claude who would chase us around the courtyard. I did not expect Lucinda’s palm to fling into my face as she declared I was the wild goose. And what a fool I was, trying to rationalize the assault. I understood it was a part of the game. But I knew that with the way Lucinda usually treated me, it could not have been a giddy mistake. Still, I did not say anything to the teachers. Tears no longer slid down my cheeks by the time I climbed the concrete steps of my home. At that point, I began to think of the things that made me happy, and in that moment it occurred to me the last time I felt at peace was when I was among Ms. Bedel’s treasures. This is what brought me to her side, rather than confiding to my grandfather of the humiliation that occurred to me on this day. “Ms. Bedel,” I began meek and soft, “can I see your diamonds?" My first crime of that day was not realizing how Winston was among her. I was not aware Winston’s eye size doubled at the sound of diamonds. “Yes you may.” All I knew was that Ms. Bedel looked greatly unhappy that I approached her, “but put everything back as found. Do you hear me? Everything, Delores." “Yes ma’am.” And with that, I was on my way, embarking on my second sin. After retrieving the jewelry box I navigated to the private sanctuary of my bedroom, shutting the door. Any other time I would not have done this, but it felt relieving to know that I was keeping to myself. Alone. Laid out on my wooden panels, I observed every pearl, opal, and amber gem. In this solace, I could not wait until I had my own collection of jewels to possess when womanhood approached, for surely everyday would be spent in happiness. “Delores!” The sound of Ms. Bedel’s voice ripped me from my adult fantasies. Before I could rise to my feet and ask ‘ma’am?’ she opened my door, scolding me once more: “you better keep this door open, young lady. I don’t know who you think you are, secluding yourself away from the world! You are seven years old!” She did not have to curse at me as I hear some mothers do their children. She did not have to strike me as a reminder that she and my grandfather’s words were the law. I already felt the harsh sting of shame and humiliation coursing through me, and so although she did not keep watch on me with a critical gaze after ensuring I kept my door open: when she told me to put everything back, I did so - with the belief I had gathered everything. It was my fear of further disappointing her that ruined my judgment.

Saturday was fine, Sunday was as well as we attended church like a prim and proper family. It is horrible to reflect on the change that came a mere few hours after our worship.

“Ever since you took that boy in he’s been nothin’ but trouble! He wasn’t even sick on Tuesday, he was connin’ you!” This was not an argument that could be ignored. It was clear as the siren of an ambulance: both Winston and I could hear the clashing of our guardians echo through the walls. Ms. Bedel’s fury summoned Winston to crouch outside our elder’s bedroom. I was tempted to steer him away and convince him to mind his business until all was calm, but I was also taken by the enragement. “I didn’t know you was a doctor!” “I was with him that entire day!” Ms. Bedel shouted, “I could see him running and jumping and just actin’ a fool! Maybe if you weren’t trying to keep up with these young men out here-” “Woman!” I jumped at Granddaddy’s raised voice, “You don’t know a THING you talkin’ ‘bout!”

Hearing the heavy thud of Ms. Bedel’s feet, I wondered what if the door swung open and the nosiness of Winston and I would be displayed before her eyes. Surely we could never live it down.

“Look -- damn you Amos, look!” However, she did not open the door. Ms. Bedel was elsewhere in the bedroom, and I could only assume she took a stance by the dresser. “My ring is gone! I know that he took it and he sold it to some...some-”

“Some what?” Grandaddy snapped.

“Some hustler!”

My knowledge of the streets were limited, but I knew the title she used for Winston was not right. “You should have seen him - the way he was looking when Didi had mentioned I had diamonds. I could just about read his mind!”

“He’s nine years old, who does he know? If he took it, he prolly gave it to some lil’ girl!”

“Amos! Why are you defending that heathenistic-”

“Shut up!”

“No good-”

“Dammit woman, I said shut your mouth!”

“Ungodly grandson of yours!”

There came a sharp sound. The sound of skin hitting skin. It was stronger than how Lucinda hit me, that I knew.

However, this was not a new sound for Winston. In contrast to his excited face, I was cringing as if I personally witnessed Granddaddy’s powerful strike.

“You hard headed woman.” He hissed, “y’ain’t gonna keep standing here and keep callin’ my grandson outta his name. Y’got one more time t’do that and I’ma drag you outta here. Keep on talkin’ about some itty bitty ring. Keep on.”

“It was my mother’s.” “Your mama was the thief you’re makin’ my grandson out to be. Your mama wasn’t nobody.”

At that point, Winston was stretching his legs and placing his palm against the door knob. I decided that if Winston would get himself in trouble for getting into the adult’s business, so be it, but I personally would have no part in it. But the truth of the matter is, by not prying I spared myself from the sight of my grandfather - a man who was more commonly stern whilst simultaneously doting, in a state far different than what I was accustomed to. I knew he was in the wrong - he was terrifying me, just to overhear him in this private moment. But what would I do if I looked at him? Caught him in whatever dominant position he stood in? Then, I heard Ms. Bedel weep.

“I hate you.” As she continued to weep, my heart broke. “You old bastard - what makes you think that I have to be with you? I don’t have to be with you. I accepted your granddaughter, willingly, I never had to do that for you. Then you put that grandson on me, and...and I’m too damn old to be going through burdens like you! Get away from me! Go on!” Don’t go… I can recall thinking, I can recall wanting to act out: to cry and scream, but instead I was biting at my bottom lip, thinking: Don’t go. I felt shame at that point, too. Incredibly small, irrelevant. A burden. Now, I was willing to peep through the door like Winston, treated to the sight of Ms. Bedel moving faster than I had ever seen her. Apathetic and rough, she tossed the jewelry box on the bed, grasped at her coats, blouses, and furs.

“Where do you think you’re goin’?” Granddaddy had the audacity to ask, as if he had not personally told her to remove herself.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?!” I did not know where the ring of Ms. Bedel’s mother had been. Truly, I thought it was in the box as it needed to be. The truth of the matter was that it was under my bed, somehow knocked there by my little feet as I spent my Friday evening admiring it all. But never would I have stolen from a woman I respected. At this moment, I did not think of my own potential mistakes, but I did think about letting my tears fall and what it would have been like if I rushed into Granddaddy’s bedroom, asking him if she could stay. “Move, move!” My surely disastrous idea never came to be as Winston grabbed my shoulders the same time Ms. Bedel’s feet came our way. Before I knew it, we were scurrying like small, brown mice to my bedroom. It was very likely Ms. Bedel saw it, but hadn’t possessed enough care to say anything.

“When y’find that damn thing,” Granddaddy followed her, not caring about our wide eyes. “You can’t never come back here. Never!”

“I don’t plan on it, Amos!”

Ms. Bedel would only return to Granddaddy in the pursuit of her fine china. Shortly afterwards, I believe she left Dayton to return to New York.

This would be the first memory that brought me pain and discomfort: something I could not dwell on because it was too harsh. At some point, my grandfather realized that the woman he loved was forever gone, because he would issue cold gazes to Winston. Asserting that if he took her ring, he should speak up. Each time, Winston claimed innocence.

As the months came and went, so did the severity of the emotional wounds of that day. Never would we forget the disaster, but we had to shoulder it and proceed on with our life. Though, one day, I would find something shiny below my bed. Like a calling, the light green streaks requested for my attention in an abyss of darkness. As I cupped it and brought it to light: that fateful day would hit me all over again.

Needless to say, as a teenager I spent many of my days wishing to turn back time. I wished that I could have considered that maybe it was I who made a mistake. Then, I would run to my bedroom, I would search up and down until I found that emerald ring and both of my guardians would enter a state of calmness. This was my fantasy. But silent, I would keep this ring. Though I would never wear it. Not even as eleven became thirteen. Or thirteen became sixteen. Or sixteen became eighteen.

Always, this ring was to be hidden. Forever my secret.

Even now, it is in my own jewelry box. And though Ms. Bedel’s mother stole it - and I in a way inherited this ring through the tradition of ‘stealing’ it, have never worn it. It has always felt taboo. Instead, what I do is keep it safe.

I am blessed to remember things as well as I do, yet precise memory can be a curse.

#long post tw #stories.#memories.

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humankoalaa · 5 years ago

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BLACK LIGHTNING 3X13

i have questions, concerns. and shade.

jeff on that gnac talking to himself and im properly entertained.

ok pawpaw time for bed big fella.

i forgot lynn slapped tf outa him 🤦🏾‍♀️

oh shit nevermind he’s making one of those mini violin for the pain vlogs.

LMAO wrong again. pawpaw on facetime with gambi 😩

why they got Wayne Brady looking like every ninja turtle tho?

jenn.... youre stronger than literally every one in freeland, markovia and yugopatamia. stop feeding khalil bullshit. y’all don’t needs him 😩

again... that wig... i know y’all seen how raggedy it was this episode. how ya wig got split ends? huh?

lynn....youre scaring me. awh lawd she done drank some questionable shit now she out here looking like a crack head looker.

TC... you gon say something big dawg?

anissa.... uhm... excuse me? come again? ... what is this nothing grace aint eating?! huh? EXPLAIN 🎤

okay jenn. you can’t have an attitude with nobody unless youre mad at your wig too. grace ain’t do NATHAN to you! AND second week in a row anissa didn’t deserve the petty ok? ok.

grace.. what are you wearing? shit is 🔥 got my weekly eye roll fix 😍 she dead ass looked at jenn like... BITCH! i will shift into a bird and shit on you. specifically on that wig. ok.

i was dying watching graces face and body language during that argument. sitting there like.. well so much for teenage grace and a jenn friendship. chantals facial expressions are everything.

TC up to something 🧐 erica looking at him like i lived in the same pod community as you dude. we’re damn near related. bye.

i can’t with them all being dressed like they’re heading to hogwarts for a quidditch match.

oh hey khalil.

this bout the most attractive group of superheroes known to man.

i feel like anissa is afraid of khalil and doesn’t want to admit it. not so much afraid for herself a little yes cause she seems tense and conflicted when he around but more the people. you can see the anger in her face but fear in her eyes. however this is just my interpretation.

.she’s reluctant to just welcome him back and trust him and i wouldn’t expect any less from anissa because that’s who she is. i feel like that’s all she was trying to do in terms of khalil this episode because she knows just how much more dangerous painkiller had become. so i get why she’s struggling seeing khalil and not painkiller.

“get on with it son” 🤣 jeff has heard enough. he ain’t want no parts of knowing what kind of women are TC’s type.

awh lawd brandon you gotta chill bro. now ISS not the time 😩 helicopter already sounds like its scrugglin. like y’all can’t die before grace tells anissa she loves her 😂 so get your shIt together sir.

khalil has seen enough. put just for me hair right to sleep 😂

anissa checking to make sure khalil was telling the truth and ain’t poison and dead brandon 😂🤦🏾‍♀️

anissa and graces synchronized flared nostrils and resting bitch faces. 10/10 need more. anissa resting her hand on graces thigh. 10/10 NEED. holding hands? 10/10 NEED MORE. ugh we are not worthy.

gambi. the voice of reason i stan.

jace and lynn are weird man. weird.

black lightning invented making an entrance. ok? ok.

i need grace to shift into the leopard and bite jace.... in the face. i don’t ask for much lord. do me this one solid?

nevermind ill take her shifting into the markovian dude. breaking necks and shit. grace a stone cold killer. i dead ass was like why this man just do his friends like that.... im now 0 for 3 on falling for the trickery.... it’s okay champ. walk it off.

i love tobias so much 😂 krondon is incredible at playing the villain. that damn laugh 😂😂

thunder punching erica looking at jneff like ... bruh... im TIYERD!

well that’s one way to open a door. k.

ericas lil dance 😂 you go pod princess.

uhm... lynn... uh.. you should probably elaborate when talking to well ...terrorists. so they don’t kill the help. k? k.

okay nevermind 🤣 lynn a whole functioning crackhead. ... barely.

yaassss aunty! light they asses up! jenn kills me she seriously fixed her hair after lighting up them fools 🤣🤦🏾‍♀️ dass my auntie!

gravedigger.... wants allllll the schmoke and khalil..... nooo nooo he isn’t reeaaddyyy. 😩

tobias.... you better shut the hell up 😂 leave my grandaddy alone.

uhm... okay brandon. i can’t with his overacting 😖

khalil... come on uncle. just play dead 😩 dudes name is gravedigger like GRAVE. DIGGER. digger of graves.. in the ground ...you finna get dead unc. 🤦🏾‍♀️

black lightning has the best fight scenes. every single fight scene incredible from top to bottom.

fuck. gravedigger outed my pawpaws lights 😭

jenn and lynn reunited 😭😭

hullup.... wheres Brandon at tho...

khalil... sit down! damn! 😂🤦🏾‍♀️

DAASSSSS MY GRANDDAD!!!!!!! LETS GOOOOOOO!

ugh this group hug 😭❤️

#black lighting spoilers #black lightning #thundergrace #anissa x grace #anissa pierce #jennifer pierce

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deloresisout · 5 years ago

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I wrote this story for a creative writing contest at my college - then shit hit the fan after the deadline [social distancing] so I don’t even know if I’ll hear back from faculty anytime soon. This was my first time writing in 1st Person (or rather converting a story into 1st person) and I was proud enough to show some people close to me in real life. So, I’m going to post this excerpt here.

I have found that with my increasing age, those around me expect me to be a walking contradiction. Of course, they would never say this out loud, but I have watched as young women wait with bated breath: anticipating for words of wisdom to emerge from my lips. I have also watched as some of these very same women then expressed surprise - astonishment even, that I am capable of recalling years long behind me.

But, even among the woolen flat caps, the menthols, and the strong Southern twang revealing his Alabama roots, one of the things that I will always closely associate with my grandfather would be his rings. Grandaddy possessed so many rings, but I was not given permission to do anything except look on. Once, great admiration had been tied to my yearnful gazes. However, when Ms. Bedel moved in, my days of secretly caressing thick, metallic gold ended. Like granddaddy, she too, is a person I will never forget.

In our early days together, Granddaddy’s rotund lover told me that she was not my mother. In that very same breath, her eyes narrowed as she further asserted she would never be my mother. Despite this, she fulfilled the needs my seven-year-old counterpart required when it came to maternal care.

Ms. Bedel, in my eyes, was a woman who was never truly appreciated by those around her. I know that she certainly wouldn't have been by today’s standards, either. Because even in my time as a wide-eyed, meek child in 1961, there were whispers of how she was too strict. Too reflective of the period that cultivated her.

During my adolescence, a child was to stay in a child’s place. Seen, not heard. Boundaries that children manage to cross today were intolerable in my time.

Being ever obedient, I never thought of doing anything other than what I was told. Appreciation factored into my blind ignorance and how could it not? Ms. Bedel was the one who bathed me at the end of each day. De-tangled my hair. Ensured I clasped my hands together and told God of my utmost gratitude each night. I have no doubt in my mind that each day I spent with Ms. Bedel, the more she came to love me.

This belief was proven in how she provided me with the loveliest dresses. She made sure Granddaddy would use his hard-earned money so that I remained a well-groomed girl, decent for both neighbors and distant cousins to lay their eyes upon if they happened to see me. I can even remember believing that Ms. Bedel once purchased me the dress of my dreams.

It was all white, its collar delicately laced. Lilac flowers in bloom decorated the fabric gorgeously. With my anklet socks and patent leather shoes, the pious women of the community would coo over me, sweetening my self-image by calling me names such as baby doll.

There even came a point in which I had the honor of being among Ms. Bedel’s jewelry, that evening I was almost trembling in her lap. Watching intently as Ms. Bedel clutched onto a small key and inserted it into the jewelry box slot, I could feel my heart pounding. With a turn the box was open, and treasures were revealed right before my eyes.

While basking in this privilege, I realized there existed differences between a man’s ring and a woman’s own.

“Where do these come from?” I couldn’t help but ask. “Child, everything you see before you has a story.” With this answer, I thought I would learn about the source of the beautiful pearls of Ms. Bedel’s necklace, or where on earth the little diamonds in her rings came from. I was too ignorant to recognize the wistfulness that hung in my elder’s voice. “During the Harlem Renaissance, I held a man named Aliki Eliopoulos in the palm of my hand. He was bronze, Greek, and we thought we could make it through the odds.” The brief huff that blew from Ms. Bedel’s nostrils was strong: “one night, he found me after the curtains closed and he presented this. This necklace is dear to me…I suppose because I never quite knew where Aliki went.” Pointing out another piece of jewelry was not needed as Ms. Bedel rose whatever called to her the most.

“This engagement ring - not a wedding ring - engagement, was given to me by my first husband. To accept it would mean I would make a vow for him. He knew of my past and knew that even if I couldn’t right my wrongs, I could try to start over with his name.”

Again, she expanded her chest with her second mighty huff. During that moment I wondered, how can this woman seem so disillusioned yet keep each belonging? Belongings that provide her with such unpleasant memories. Where did the hatred end and the sentiment begin?

“True love is a concept,” Ms. Bedel said, the resentment never leaving her tongue. “The idea of that sort of thing existing is new, too. People don’t realize that...but Delores.”

“Ma’am?” I replied. For no reason, I was stricken with fear in how she said my name. All I had known was that she said it with such sharpness that surely my own faults were on the verge of being mentioned - whatever those faults may have been.

“Do not follow in my footsteps.”

I believe Ms. Bedel was sixty-six at this time. The same age as I am now. Ironically

Still, to think back on the many statements - the way her eyes fixed on me, lets me know she was not a pinnacle of virtuous deeds throughout her life.

However, at that particular moment, all I knew was that I disliked the heavy silence her statement brought. It became my intention to steer away from talk of vows and purity so as I refocused on the piled riches, I noticed an emerald glistening among gold and rubies. The longer I stared into it, the more I noticed that it had lighter streaks. Appearing and disappearing depending on my movement. It was like thunder and lightning had been coursing within it. “Ms. Bedel...where did that ring come from?” I asked. “This -” Ms. Bedel lifted it, studied it. “This belonged to my mother.” “Did her husband give it to her, too?”

“What Africans had to do...” I answered, just barely connecting my gaze with her own.

“No.” My idea was correct, but wrong.

“My mother may not have been picking cotton, but she did live under those horrid conditions. After I was born, my mother bundled me up and took me with her as she journeyed North. Of course, being a colored woman, she didn’t have the luxury of driving or possessing a fortune to get her there in an instant. She worked as a maid here and there until she reached New York...and there was one woman before that.” She paused.

“We were in Kentucky…” Ms. Bedel refrained from speaking yet again, hissing: “I hate Kentucky...and I will never forget that woman as long as I live...she,” Ms. Bedel’s lips were curling, “she was downright nasty. That woman sat so high on her horse, that she had my mother feeding her baby through her teat.”

My face was surely pulling in disgust. I did not understand what was said just the right amount to be puzzled, but I understood enough to be both bewildered and uncomfortable.

“From time to time, my mother would take little things from her house. Sugar, flour. Things that wouldn’t be missed. But before we left Kentucky and never looked back, my mother thought she deserved something more in return, and this ring was it. After my mother passed on, I received it. This beauty has been with me ever since…” Suddenly Ms. Bedel took on a soft and tender tone, it was as if she placed her past behind her. “Try it on.”

Not only was I soothed by a far preferable tone, but I was also elated. Yes, it felt as though I was ascending to new heights. My high emotions would soon leave as the ring was placed on my finger, limp. “Oh…” Ms. Bedel’s lips pushed out, sympathetic. “It’s too big for you…”

“My fingers are too little…” I felt like I was an infant, helpless and insignificant.

“Maybe.” Ms. Bedel took my hand into her own, covering it in love. “One day you’ll grow into it.”

#PAST. / SHAPED BY EVERY MOMENT.#THE LITTLEJOHN FAMILY. / A LOST LEGACY.

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streetsofsecrets-a · 6 years ago

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TW: the n-word - both forms of it, a general discussion of explicit historical racism, and domestic abuse.

--Bedford Stuyvesant, 1961.

Grandaddy had rings, but she was not given the privilege to do anything except look on. Now once upon a time, great admiration was tied to her wistful gazes. However since Ms. Bedel moved in, those days came to an end.

Now Ms. Bedel had a name, which was “Lucille Tallulah Masters-Bedel.” Delores did not know how a person could have two last names but apparently, Bedel was the last name of her dead husband. How could she bring herself to reside with a new man when love was supposed to last forever? Delores did not know - and was not allowed to ask, for that matter.

In fact Delores Littlejohn, a young girl of seven, was prohibited from pushing out her lips and daring to sound out Lu, because the hand of this old woman would come flying before she could say cille. Not her mother, and not ever going to be her mother, this adult insisted she be called Ms. Bedel. If the youth desired to be more casual there was always, “ma’am” that could be said in place. Now, being a quiet, obedient (and as her grandfather would sometimes put it, “simple”) little thing, Delores never thought of doing anything other than what was said.

Any other young girl would see Ms. Bedel as a fat haggard woman set in her ways, but Delores honestly thought there were no flaws in Grandaddy’s lover. If there were, she certainly could not detect them. Appreciation factored into this child’s blind ignorance, because after all: Ms. Bedel was the one who bathed her at the end of each day, detangled her hair, fixed she and her Grandaddy dinner, ensured she wore “baby doll” dresses, and eventually, Delores had the honor of being among her jewelry.

It was absolutely exciting to watch thick fingers pull out a wooden key and insert it into the jewelry’s box slot for the first time. Then, with a turn, it was opened and treasures were right before her eyes.

If somebody said, “don’t do that,” Delores would not engage in whatever was before her. If somebody said, “don’t speak,” Delores would never open her mouth. Thus to be enabled - to have rings and necklaces and earrings capable of touching and tracing with her fingertips - filled her little body with utmost delight. She knew she was privileged and she would use every ounce of it. Also while basking in this privilege, Delores would realize there existed differences between a man’s ring and a woman’s.

Granddaddy’s rings were thick accessories of solid colors: more often than not the dimmest shades of silver and gold. So dull it was almost if they were old decorations that lost what could once make them shine. There were a few bumps - prongs, and frankly they just looked downright sad in contrast to Ms. Bedel’s prized possessions that shined. That shimmered.

Her earrings dangled, shaped from gold. Her rings had what she thinks are authentic, real diamonds protruding in the center. And her necklaces? They were full of the beautiful little rocks, as well.

“Where do these come from?” Delores would ask.

“Child, everything you see before you has a story.”

“During the Harlem Renaissance, I held a man named Aliki Eliopoulos in the palm of my hand. He was bronze, Greek, and thought we could make it through the odds. Hmpfh. He was unaware that I had no intentions with him. One night, he found me after the curtain closed and he presented this. This necklace is dear to me…I suppose because I never quite knew where Aliki went.”

Ms. Bedel missed the discomfort worn on the child’s face, too caught in her own reflections. Really, what Delores desired to hear were the literal tales of the source where all that glittered came from, and furthermore she had wondered who was skilled enough to make such beautiful things.

“This engagement ring - not a wedding ring - engagement, was given to me by my first husband. To accept it would mean I would make a vow to remain pure for him. He knew of my past, and knew that even if I couldn’t right my wrongs, I could try to start over in his name. I think he had that idea because he was Catholic - hmfph. I don’t believe in true love. I’m a jaded woman…Delores.” Ms. Bedel did not say her name to end the statement, she was calling to her. Sharply, at that.

“Ma’am?”

“Don’t follow in my footsteps.”

Feeling the intensity of her gaze, Delores found herself disliking this conversation. Purposely, she shies away from talk of vows and purity, focusing on the piled riches. Noticing the green-centered ring that lays amongst gold and rubies. The longer Delores stared into it, the more she began to notice lighter streaks struck out. “Like thunder n’ lightening,” she thought before wondering -

“Ms. Bedel, where did that ring come from?”

“This -” she lifts it, studies it almost as if it was an artifact. Indeterminable. “This belonged to my mother.”

“Did her husband give it to her, too?”

“My mother was never married.” With that unpleasant remark came a pause that Delores felt lasted forever, however Ms. Bedel spoke again: clear and without strain, “she emerged from a place in Mississippi so unimportant that it can’t even be defined by a name.” Delores felt bad for asking, it sounded as though Ms. Bedel did not care for her mother let alone Mississippi. “Do you know what slave labor is?”

At the height of her discomfort, Delores nodded. When she was but the age of five her granddaddy decided it was time she learn how Africans, not even colored people, Africans were chained like dogs and brought to America. After that, they were bound to pick cotton all day long in the sun. That was slave labor, her mind decided.

“After I was born, my mother didn’t want to stay in No Mans, Mississippi, and took me with her as she journeyed North. Of course, being a colored woman, she didn’t have the luxury of driving or having a fortune to get her there in an instant. Hmpfh. So she worked as a maid here and there until she reached New York. And there was one white woman she worked for that was just downright nasty.” The word gets pronounced like a snarl, and her gaze is particularly intense. “She…that woman sat so high on her horse, that she had my mother feeding her baby through her teat.”

Delores’ face scrunched: not understanding what was said to her just the right amount to be puzzled - yet understanding just enough to be both bewildered and uncomfortable. “From time to time my mother would take little things from the house. Sugar, flour. But before we left Kentucky and never looked back, she deserved something more in return, and this was it. And after my mother passed on, this has been with me ever since…” Suddenly Ms. Bedel takes to a soft and tender tone, “try it on.”

Not only soothed by a preferable tone, Delores was elated. Felt like she was ascending to new heights: practically skipping from seven years old to seven in a half!

“Oh…” Ms. Bedel’s thick lips push out with sympathy, onyx eyes hold traces of adoration. “It’s too big for you…” Looking at how the ring hang heavy on her index was a pitiful sight in itself - for Ms. Bedel to point out the obvious causes Delores’ joy to further deflate.

“My fingers are too little…” Delores feels like a baby, a fresh six at best.

“Maybe..” Ms. Bedel takes the child’s hand into her own, covering it in love. “One day you’ll grow into it.”

-------

If Ms. Reed was kind, then Ms. Bedel should have been thought of as a saint. Because unlike many of her classmates, Delores was not fond of her teacher. At all.

She could not explain why even if she wanted to, just knowing her educator maintained a bit of an indifferent air when it came to her. Ms. Bedel could have this similar demeanor, Ms. Bedel could even holler at her: but underneath each treatment, Delores sensed that love was there. Delores was sure Ms. Bedel would forever and always be someone as special as Granddaddy - after all, it was through her that Delores learned of a love that existed for all that shined.

There began to come occurrences when after taking the hot-comb to her hair, Ms. Bedel would take one of the necklaces and fasten it around her little neck. Granddaddy would sneer, stating she was making Didi into a fast-tail girl and, Winston would agree once he moved in. Although Winston and Granddaddy were separated by generations, their “masculinity” gave their stance a high sort of power. If Granddaddy thought she was fast, if Winston thought she was fast, then it was so. And with that official, not even a ring could slide on her little finger.

Delores did not like change, but it did not mean she disliked her cousin. Still, she was not joyous to have her cousin residing under the same roof as her, either. Previously she caught wind of how adults would make statements of being “lonesome” when you’re the sole child of the household, but Delores thought she could never be lonely: not when she had Granddaddy. Not only that, but from time to time she heard how lucky she was to be an only child because had she had siblings, certain things would not have been purchased. Instead, sacrifices would have had to be made, as Granddaddy said himself.

And how sacrifices came with Winston’s presence.

He slept on the couch while Delores kept her room. But breakfast was smaller. Lunch and dinner too. She had to be tolerant, patient, when her cousin sat by her side and bastardized the personalities of her beloved dolls. His rough housing even lead to the tearing of Marilyn! And even though tears fell on her pillow that night - by sunrise, she forgave him.

One of the most noticeable changes were in how Ms. Bedel seldom spoke to her anymore. Oh, never did the adult say don’t talk to me, Delores simply acknowledged the body language. The expressions. With that she concluded she was not wanted around, unaware of the hostile conversations that took place between the adults of the household. Still, considering all the changes that had occurred under this roof, Delores gradually reached the conclusion the last time she had been happy was when she could admire diamonds right from the palm of her hand. It felt good to not only having Ms. Bedel in a warmer state, but it made up for the struggles school would inflict on her.

Some days were better than others, but this day was particularly awful. Having outright been backhanded by Lenora during Duck, Duck, Goose, Delores had returned home with low spirits. In the beginning, among the other children in glee, she could feel the tension build. Each moment was a thrill - no one knew who the Goose would be - but there was nothing playful, or thrilling, about Lenora’s hand suddenly flinging into her face. Not head, face.

Five fingers left a powerful sting and even a faint mark that would cause her to avert her eyes and shrug when adults asked about it’s origins. Yes, Delores understood it was a part of the game, but given how Lenora usually treated her, she doubted this was a mistake. Still, she did not say anything. She did not even cry - not really. Instead after getting settled, Delores shyly - oh so shyly, approached Ms. Bedel as she laid down a bowl of steaming soup for Winston. Having been ill, he did not go to school that day.

“Ms. Bedel,” she began meek and soft, “can I see your diamonds?“

The look that came on Ms. Bedel’s face looked as though she could just retch. But ignorant, Delores did not know how her crime in asking this was in how Winston was among her. Naive, she was not even aware how Winston’s eye size doubled at the sound of, “diamonds.” And clueless, Delores did not know how Ms. Bedel, if anything, saw Amos’ grandson as a troublemaker. One of those boys you had to warn about your additional pair of eyes that saw all. “Yes.” Ms. Bedel comes to answer with a struggle, “yes you may. But put everything back as found. Do you hear me? Everything."

“Yes Ms. Bedel.” And with that, Delores was on her way.

It was in fact a mistake for Ms. Bedel to even allow this because jewelry box in arms, she moved herself to her own bedroom and shut the door. Alone and secluded, Delores would find that rings and necklaces would detract from her bruise. She couldn’t wait until she had her own to possess when womanhood finally approached, as she concludes that everyday would be spent in happiness. And when she took everything back as told, Delores really did believe every diamond, earring, and necklace was where it needed to be.

“Ever since you took that boy in he’s been nothin’ but trouble! He wasn’t even sick on Tuesday, he was connin’ your ass!”

“I didn’t know you was a doctor, thought you just played one once!”

“I was with him that entire day! I could see him running and jumping and actin’ a fool! Maybe if you weren’t trying to run the street with your old ass-”

“Woman! Y’don’t know a GATDAM thing you talkin ‘bout!”

This was not an argument that could be ignored. It was clear as the siren of a distant ambulance: both children could hear as it echoed through the walls and it summoned them both to sit - well, in Winston’s case, crouch - outside the elder’s bedroom. Would Delores say Winston was trouble? Although he tore Marilyn that one time - no, not really. The passing of days would have her find the perks in having him around.

“Look - damn you Amos, look! My ring is gone!! I know that lil’ nigger took it and he probably sold it to some - some hustler!” Oh. “You should have seen him - the way he was looking when Didi mentioned I had diamonds. I could just about read his mind!” With each infuriated word, Delores finds herself unable to stop quivering. Her heart’s bumps are even audible against her ears. This, she knows, was not Winston’s fault at all.

“He’s a boy, who he gon’ sell it to? He prolly done gave it to some lil’ girl!”

“Amos! Why are you defending that little nigger?!”

For Delores, the sound of skin hitting skin was horrific. However, it was not a new sound for Winston. In contrast to his gaped mouth, she cringed as if she saw the impact of Granddaddy’s hand, and as she notices how Winston stretches his legs and places his palm against the door knob she whines low, but nonetheless frightful, “Winny, no!” As he ignored her, Delores decided that if Winston would get himself in trouble for getting in grown folk’s business, she wanted no part in it. So she did not peek, consequently sparing herself from the sight of her grumpy and nonchalant grandfather in a different state far different than what she was accustomed to.

He had one fist raised and another fist clutching at hair. “Y’goddamn bitch.” He sneered,

“y’ain’t gonna keep standing here and keep callin’ my grandson outta his name. Bitch, y’got one more time t’do that-” His fist shook. Though he was old, he was strong. “And I’ma drag you outta here like this.” Her clothes could be flung out the window for all he cared, “keep on talkin’ about some itty bitty ring. Keep on.”

“I hate you.” When Ms. Bedel weeps, Delores feels her heart break. “You old son of a bitch, I don’t have to be with you. I don’t have to live here. I accepted your granddaughter, willingly, but you put that grandson on me. I’m too damn old to be going through burdens like you -” never did Delores consider herself to be a burden, however she also failed to think of the struggles old people went through beside the occasional bad knees. “I don’t even have to be with your tragic ass.” She hocked, she spat on his cheek, “get up offa me, nigga.”

Now Delores was prompted to peer in, right as her caretakers aren’t body to body. Free, Ms. Bedel is moving faster than Delores has ever seen her. Apathetic and rough, she tosses the jewelry box on the bed, grasps at coats, blouses, and furs. “Where you goin’?!”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?! Wouldn’t you like to know?!”

Don’t go… Delores bites at her bottom lip. Don’t go. She did not know where the ring of Ms. Bedel’s mother was. Truly, she thought it was safe in the box where it needed to be. Although admiring it more than anything, she would have never thought of stealing from a woman she respected. Why - if she had the chance, if she had not been frozen where she sat, Delores would find the ring. She would search the apartment up and down and present the item to her.

“Move, move!” She feels Winston grasp her shoulders as heavy feet stomped their way. Delores did not recognize what was going on, only rising because she knew in these moments that it was right, and to her bedroom they moved like mice: diving on Delores’ wooden floor. Whether Ms. Bedel saw or not was obvious to anyone other than them.

“When y’find that damn thing-” Granddaddy followed her, not caring about the wide eyes of children. “You can’t never come back here. Never!”

“I don’t plan on it, Amos!” She slammed the door - and only looked back for her fine china.

After that, Ms. Bedel never thought of the Littlejohn family again.

For days, this memory would sting all three of them. Something they could not replay in their minds because it was too harsh. Delores felt bad for her cousin. He was called one of the ugliest words in the world, twice. Not only that, but he was reduced to a thief and it was all because of her own, “carelessness.” And Winston, forever denying to his irked and cynical guardian that he ever touched, let alone gazed at some old lady’s ring, would have to let his innocence be known countless times. He was bold enough to ask if he had been a burden, though. Not like Delores, who was even too much of a coward to find out Granddaddy’s true feelings about her.

As the months came and went, so did the severity of the emotional wounds of that day. Never would they forget the disaster, but they did not have to shoulder it with grit teeth. Though, one day, Delores would find something shiny below her bed. Like a calling, the light green streaks requested for her attention in an abyss of darkness. As she cupped it and brought it to light: that fateful day would hit her all over again. Silent, Delores would keep this ring. But not wear it. Not even as seven became eleven. Or eleven became thirteen. Or thirteen became sixteen.

Always, this ring was to be hidden. Forever her secret.

#( DELORES. / DRABBLES. )#( DELORES. / THE YOUTHFUL YEARS. )#( THE LITTLEJOHN FAMILY. )

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ofgerrys · 7 years ago

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OLIVER JACKSON-COHEN, CISMALE, HE/HIM — ✧ that looks like GERRY DREW-DANVERS they’re the TWENTY SEVEN YEAR OLD SON OF JESSICA DREW & (ADOPTED) CAROL DANVERS. they are also a TEACHING ASSISTANT ( & SHIELD AGENT) at paragon. I HEAR THEY’RE COMPASSIONATE & DETERMINED BUT TEND TO BE STUBBORN &. his file says that his power is BIO-ELECTRIC ENERGY PROJECTION & WALL CRAWLING

TL;DR former golden boy falls from grace

T H E P A S T : Intergalactic (beastie boys)

He is born somewhere in a black hole (a hospital, but still somewhere in space), during a skrull invasion. He’s healthy, his mother leaves him behind to murder some invaders. The first twenty minutes of his life really sets a tone for how the rest will proceed.

They would have each other, the two of them. That’s all that mattered. But soon after, Carol took the title of second mother. Gerry became Gerry Drew-Danvers. He’s never known himself without one or the other.

The latchkey kid, Gerry was on his own a lot once he was old enough to not need constant supervision. An oversized closet in Avengers tower became his HQ, his favorite hiding spot. He hung a hammock and it became where he spent his nights when both parents were away on missions. A troublemaker, but Gerry never considered himself one. He used his powers to climb tall towers for fun, always masked as to not draw attention to himself.

Overprotective, he looked out for every kid that came after him. Everyone’s big brother. Being the kid of a vigilante can be tough. Between alien invasions, civil wars, intra-team dramatics, everyone knew that Gerry was the guy to call no matter how your parents felt about his at that particular time. He was solid.

Despite the wall crawling, above average strength, and venom blasts, Gerry was never much interested in becoming an Avenger. He tried the vigilante thing briefly, but gave up on it before the Daily Bugle gave him a nickname. Instead, he spent his childhood playing SHIELD Agents vs. Skrulls, SHIELD Agents vs. Latveria, SHIELD Agents vs..you get it.

Gerry got his GED and joined the academy two days after he turned 18. went straight into the SHIELD academy of operations, described on the MCU wiki as “The S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy of Operations had the most aggressive program, and the highest percentage of washouts. The Academy trained Specialists and Field Agents.” I want to note that yes, Gerry has spent his entire adolescences preparing for entering the academy, but he understands that he got to where he is because of who his parents are. He was one of the younger trainees attending at the time.

He missed his moms and his friends a lot- for the first few days. He settled in quickly to a lifestyle of only seeing your loved ones a handful of times a year very quickly. In the end, he was matched with Constance May as a partner. He would later reflect about the many differences they shared. Such a cliche. But they worked so well together. Connie may know him better than anyone else these days.

Then the incident. He was 26. Put on a different team when Connie got pulled for a seperate mission. His mission went awry. The details are omitted here, Gerry was the only survivor, it took SHIELD eight days to locate him and extract.

W H E R E W E A R E N O W: he's simple he's dumb he's the pilot (grandaddy)

Riddled with memories of the incident, he was placed on leave at Paragon, teaching spy shit. He was not happy about this and constantly complained about wanting to be back out in the field, where he had spent almost the last decade of his life.

His first few months at paragon were spent- pretending he was fine. Self medicating, pursing fruitless relationships. Gerry has only recently started “getting serious”, so that he may, eventually, return to duty.

F U N F A C T S : thunder (imagine dragons)

beloved by the moms at the zumba class he attends twice a week

really thinks he can pilot anything

has been to into space a handful of times and loves it more every time.

Gerry will, at the end of the day, probably side with SHIELD over other factors should it come to it. He does not blindly follow orders, but he believes in the mission. Gerry has done various questionable actives in his past while on duty, but reconciles it as being imperative to the mission.

Gerry did a handful of information gathering on mutants for SHIELD pre-registration. (WC for those coming soon).

more wanted connections to come soon!

#sidekick.intro #death tw #alcohol tw

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parkerbombshell · 2 years ago

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iceman-maverick · 7 years ago

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Favourite avengers movies scenes?

i went through avengers 1-2 because i’ve done similar posts to this about IW and i’m not really in the mood for reopening that wound at 1:32am and this really got away from me i make no apologies LOL

(but i do thank you for asking!!)

avengers

Nick Fury’s drama in the opening scenes surpasses Real House Wives

NATASHA ROMANOFF

the fact that her stockings are ripped when she leans down to pick up her heels was such a fucking moment for like 11 year old me it meant big things that my badass angel was also feminine and still badass

Bruce pushing the baby carriage when he first meets Natasha foreshadowing omf he deserves more (and so does she)

Tony’s “his first name is Agent” to Coulson

Tony’s hair in this movie

Tony in this movie

Tony in every movie

Steve’s costume, specifically the cowl that makes him look like a big dumb EGG

“What you scared of a little thunder?”

pilates

Dick measuring contest between The Big Three that levels a forest

the sexual tension that launched mcu stony

tony rubbing at his eyes afterwards

literally i could do an entire thing about the argument on the helikraft mac and cheese

LOKI BLENDING THE GUY’S EYE AND THAT SMIRK

LOKI’s GERMANY OUTFIT

“you rented my room”

bruce banner was not here to play in this fucking movie

BLUEBERRIES!!

maria hill’s fucking useless “INCOMING!!” as like something i can’t fucking remember flies through the window this could be ultron actually idk i’m in a convent with nuns right now my memory is hazy

“ta r g ET ANGRY T A GRET ANG RY”

THE HULK ROCKETING OFF AND JUST YELLING DISTANTLY

“son you’ve got a condition”

NICK FURY’S FUCKING BAZOOKA WHY DID H E HAVE T HA T

the comic book styling of having the camera track tony buzz around

tony and steve firing off the shield paralleling civil war angst omf

[TRUMPETS INTENSIFY]

the theme song that my heart beats to

tony hero stark saving the fucking world again

okay actually for the first time but you know, starting a trend

OKAY WAIT ONE OF THE FUNNIEST “NOT FUNNY” SEQUENCES IS WHEN TONY IS FALLING BACK TO EARTH AND THOR JUST STARTS WINDING UP THE HAMMER AND IS LIKE “HE’S NOT SLOWING DOWN” IDK WHY BUT I ALWAYS INTERPRETED THAT AS HE WAS GONNA LAUNCH THE FUCKING HAMMER AT TONY FOR NO FUCKING RE A SON

thor ripping the iron man mask off is hot

STEVE’S FUKCING FACE WHEN TONY WAKE S T UP

tony literally died and his first thought was like literally DID CAPTAIN AMERICA KISS ME

the fact that in canon all of the big gay babies also known as the Avengers decided it was necessary to smoosh together for a big group shot just to be like “hey loki we w o n” and loki being just like “booze. now”

loki in chains ;)

get in losers we’re going to do science

the super dramatic nick fury monologue that is never addressed or revisited in ca:tws like fury is really like reverent about the avengers in this movie but then in winter soldier he’s just all like cap, listen, i have a story about paper bags and grandaddy

avengers: age of ultron

guys i know this movie sucked but it was also a stevetony Event

gROUP SHOT in the opening sequence

tony’s little “yay!” with the secret door

the vALIDATION OF TONY’S BIGGEST FEAR BEING STEVE DYING ESSENTIALLY IN HIS ARMS OMFFFFFFFFFF STUCKY WHERE

tony grabbing the scepter and then bIG DOOMSDAY MUSIC

literally the entire party sequence

especially slutty, slutty thor

bruce’s hair is BIG in this movie for no reason lol

tony looking sO CUTE WHEN THEY’RE BUILDING ULTRON

cliNT WHIPPING THE SHIELD TO CAP

TONY AND THE FONDUE FORK THING

tony mourning jarvis (j fucking k whedon sucks)

“aw junior you’re gonna break your old mans heart” foreshadowing to hoco

im joking but imagine ultron having a “i didn’t want a little brother” complex with peter lmfAO

ultron chopping the guys from black panther’s hand off

i really really hate the 9/11 symbolism with the hulk and the tower ngl just wanted to put it out there how not okay that shit is

Bruce Banner sponsored by Beats by Dre

“we can go home steve” fORESHADOWING KINDA WHATEVER PARALLEL IDK TO IW STEVE BEING LIKE “LET’S GO HOME” I JUST REALIZED THIS AS I WROTE THIS IF YOU COULDN’T TELL

natasha backstory

when the red room lady is just like “schloppy” instead of sloppy and like the Russian Intensifies

“together” is the gay agenda

tHOR STRANGLING TONY MAKES ME ANGRY BUT IT’S ALSO HOT

hawkeye’s stupid fucking family sucks bUT

bed-sharing fics

i wondered who got top bunk (steve)

THE LOG SCENE FASKLJFSDFSASF

I WILL FUCKIGN YEET MYSELF INTO THE SCREEN JUST TO FUCKING SHAKE STEVE FUCKING HYPOCRITICAL ROGERS LIKE A POLAROID PICTURE

MY TEAMMATES DON’T TELL ME THINGS

HUH

WOW

YEAH

HOW RUDE

AND COMPLETELY COUNTERPRODUCTIVE

TO HIDE CRITICAL INFORMATION

FROM TEAMMATES

INFORMATION THAT AFFECTS THEIR ENTIRE LIFE

EVERYTHING THEY KNOW TO BE TRUE

INFORMATION THAT IS NOT YOURS TO HIDE

WHAT A COMPLETE BETRAYAL OF TRUST

ON WHICH THE AVENGERS WERE FOUNDED UPON

TRUST THAT SHOULDN’T BE B ROKE N

ESPECIAKLY TO SERVE YOUR OWN NE E DS

PRIORITIZING YOUR OWN AGENDA OVER THE TR UT H

okay sorry im back

nick fury is tony’s dad!!!!!!!!!!!!

STEVE IS SO FUNNY IN THIS MOVIE FOR NO REASON

when clint is like “cap hold off ultron” and steve is just getting his ass kicked and dangling off of a truck or something and is like “wHAT DO YOU THINK I’VE BEEN DOING”

“you’re not a match for him cap” “thanks barton”

WHEN THAT TRUCK TAKES FLIGHT

yOU DIDN’T FINI S H

“thor you’re irritating me”

quick little bastard

nobody

the entire ending of that movie lowkey sucks

costel. we were in the market more like L AM E you let the wrong twin die

“They think order and chaos are somehow opposites and try to control what won’t be. But there is grace in their failings... I think you missed that” is weirdly beautiful but also a whole lotta yadayadayada it’s like a fake deep lana del rey song which i really never thought i would associate with vision but now that i think about it he’s like basically carmen

elVATOR’S NOT WORT H Y

BESIDES THIS ONE, THERE’S NOTHING THAT CAN’T BE EXPLAINED

that man has no regard for lawn maintenance

a lot of manful tears oh tony if only you knew how he was gonna break your heart sweetie im sorry you never stood a chance

self driving car was a nice touch

why is tony’s car that hideous red tho like it’s loud and ugly

“i’m home”

i thought you two were still gazing into each other’s eyes

why was nat just staring at that wall in the room

what the fuck is that room anyway

like is that in interpretative art peace

what the fu c k

19 notes · View notes

weebee442 · 5 years ago

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suddenly-n-octopus · 7 years ago

Note

I would like to see answers for all. :3

For you? Always.flower crown: when did you last sing to yourself? “Please dont throw your looooove away–please dont throw your loooooove away”

fairy lights: if a crystal ball could tell you the truth about anything, what would you want to know? If she would ever chose to be with me.

daisies: what is the greatest accomplishment of your life? I dont have one. I dont even know what that is.

1975: what is the first happy memory that comes to mind, recent or otherwise?My best friend and I talking about our fears in meeting each other finally. They turned out to be the same for her and after all this time i was surprised she still felt the same way. It may not happen but it felt good that she still considered the idea.(that context though)

matte: if you knew that in one year you would die suddenly, would you change anything about the way you are now living? Yes.

black nail polish: do you have a bucket list? if so, what are the top three things? Make a popular selling video game. Turn said videogame into an on-going multi seasoned series/anime. Own an Owl.

pantone: describe a person close to your life in detail. She calls herself a panda,she loves books and chocolate. Dawson’s creek and gilmore girls are her go to shows. She can get tunnel vision when she gets angry. She hates her middle name with a passion. Shes a pyromaniac. Opal is one of her all time favorite stones. She cant dance. Can hold her liquor for a while. She has been an author, violinist, jeweler, carpenter, mechanic, pharmacy tech, and now a dispatcher. She’s tired.

moodboard: do you feel you had a happy childhood? I sorta didnt.

stars: when did you last cry in front of another person? Thanksgiving

plants: pick a person to stargaze with you and explain why you picked them.My best friend, ironically she lives in an area where the sky could be seen without the city lights interfering. I mean…its stargazing, you’d want someone you love to be with you to watch them right? we’d look at the stars and talk about them and their meanings..or rather what we thought would be their meanings with me mostly making terrible jokes.

converse: would you ever have a deep conversation with a stranger and open up to them?Yes

lace: when was your last 3am conversation with someone, and who were they to you? Um. *waits* its 3a.m. now so ..you. You are a kind friend to me. I am grateful.

handwriting: if you were about to die, and you could only say one more sentence to one person, what would you say and to whom? Thats easy, i say it to myself daily when i think about this question. To my best friend: I love you for until always.

cactus: what is your opinion on brown eyes? Underrated and beautiful. FUCK.

sunrise: pick a quote and describe what it means to you personally. “That doesnt go there” -story of my life.

oil paints: what would you title the autobiography of your life so far? HA.. “That doesnt go there”

overalls: what would you do with one billion dollars? Thats a long one, first id go see my best friend..give her family money, pay mine and my mother’s bills, buy a place for my mom and sis, then buy a place for me, get a transplant for my kidney and pancreas, buy some waffles, pay for my sister’s college.

combat boots: are you a very forgiving person? do you like being this way? I am not.

winged eyeliner: write a hundred word letter to your twelve year old self Save your money. Find her.Go to the doctor as much as possible. find her. listen and remember what grandaddy is teaching you. show him that you arent a waste of his knowledge. find her. say yes when the time comes. dont let friendship ruin your chance to finish. find her dammit. fucking find her. keep up with all of your games, dont trust anyone where you leave them. tell uncle joe you love him. tell tiffany that you like her too. but find her. watch the tribe more and find her. dont let them get to you. you arent trying to be white. you are being yourself because thats how you were raised. find her please.

.pastel: would you describe yourself as more punk or pastel? Pastel probably.

tattoos: how do you feel about tattoos and piercings? explain i love tattoos and would lke to get some of my own but i dont heal well anymore. i think they express a lot about yourself and what you love.

.piercings: do you wear a lot of makeup? why/why not? Nah…i mean..should i??? my lashes are all natural honey :o

bands: talk about a song/band/lyric that has affected your life in some way. I dont have a song that has affected my life.

messy bun: the world is listening. pick one sentence you would tell them. Chaos is inevitable, all men must die.

cry baby: list the concerts you have been to and talk about how they make you feel.Never been to one QQ

grunge: who in the world would you most like to receive a letter from and what would you want it to say?Irina, a friend of mine who disappeared some years ago. She promised me that she wouldnt do so and…i havent gotten over that so the letter would be telling me where she is and if she is okay. I miss her.

space: do you have a desk/workspace and how is it organised/not organised? I have a fold out table where my laptop sits. Not organized.

white bed sheets: what is your night time routine? I dont have a set routine for anything in my life. I never seem to maintain a schedule. so it varies.

old books: what’s one thing you don’t want your parents to know? That i used to watch their porn that they stashed away terribly.

beaches: if you had to dye your hair how would you dye/style it and why? my hair is short so a dark blue, i like blue but green is my favorite.

eyes: pick five people to go on an excursion with you. who would you pick and where would you go/what would you do? five people? huff i have to know five people. *waves the thought* we’d go to the beach!!! my best friend hasnt been to one since she was a kid so definitely her, my only guy friend and his girl..thats three…uh…oh my guy friends girl’s friend…and uh…this is hard since none of who i am talking about actually lives anywhere near me or within a 1000 miles.

11:11: name three wishes and why you wish for them. goodness. um. to be healthy–no more health issues, my body functions normally and everything works. thats probably two wishes. so the last one would be..i wish that i was successful.

painting: what is the best halloween costume you have ever put together? if none, make one up.I once went as a disco guy. yuh, my best costume ever.

lightning: what’s the worst thing you’ve ever done while drunk or high? texted my best friend over some issues we were having…again. *cough*

thunder: what’s one thing you would never do for one million dollars? Kill innocent people

storms: you on only listen to one song for the rest of your life, or only see one person for the rest of your life. which and why?my best friend. because i love her more than anything and anyone. I would rather see her for the remainder of my life than what the world has to offer.

love: have you ever fallen in love? describe what it feels like to realise you’re in love.I have, I am. the feeling is like knowing that you are getting something you really want and its coming to you, that anticipation of it getting there and you having it, but the anticipation is a constant. it wells withing stomach and rises into your chest but never out of your mouth or body, it just stays there.

clouds: if you’re a boy, would you ever rock black nail polish? if you’re a girl, would you ever rock really really short hair? I keep black, gun metal grey and warm grey nail polish at all times.

coffee: what’s your starbucks order, and who would you trust to order for you, if anyone? caramel macchiato and im rather trusting of anyone really.

marble: what is the most important thing to you in your life right now? my best friend.

#ask me #ask me stuff #woe #physickfawn

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ckoerner · 5 years ago

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The Star Wars sequels’ big twist kept changing until the last minute

Image: Lucasfilm Ltd.

Daisy Ridley talked about the big secret of Rise of Skywalker

True to J.J. Abrams’ mystery box obsession, 2015’s Star Wars: The Force Awakens introduced a fleet of new characters and a burning question: Where did our budding hero Rey come from? Who were her parents?

Fans spent years speculating what parts of the Star Wars universe Abrams might connect with his answer — even after The Last Jedi squashed the theories. Rey, on the path chosen by writer-director Rian Johnson, was just another somebody who happened to cross paths with the Skywalker Saga at the right time. Except maybe not? In the end, Abrams swung back around to his grand mystery, and turned Rey into the granddaughter of Emperor Palpatine. The twist didn’t add much to the character, but hey, it was a twist! The end.

Months after the release of The Rise of Skywalker, and deep into the life-altering chaos of the pandemic, the thunderous thud of Abrams’ trilogy-capping reveal still reverberates through pop culture. In a way, it was the last big thing the world witnessed — and thinking-emoji-ed over — before movie theaters and life itself shut down. If Avengers: Endgame was the triumph of collective entertainment, Rise of Skywalker was the worst case scenario, but it still sticks in the memory.

Which is why, even when given the chance to host Jimmy Kimmel Live! nine months after the release of the film, guest host Josh Gad used his time with pal Daisy Ridley to ask what the hell happened with that twist. Gad is us. We are Gad. Despite being Disney’s go-to talent, the actor picked at the scab while commanding the prime ABC timeslot. Thank Gad.

youtube

In the segment, Ridley says what many have assumed and teased in leaked behind-the-scene story form. She had no concrete clue about Rey’s origins in The Force Awakens, and barely knew about the reveal while shooting Rise of Skywalker.

“At the beginning they were toying with an Obi-Wan connection,” she tells Gad. “There were different versions. Then it really went that she was no one. Then it came to Episode 9, and JJ pitched me the film: ‘Palpatine’s grandaddy.’ And I was like, ‘Awesome.’

Ridley says, two weeks after hearing the news, Abrams backtracked. Maybe that wasn’t the direction they’d go.

“So it kept changing. Even when we were filming I wasn’t sure what the answer would be.”

Much as been reported on how The Rise of Skywalker morphed over time, both in its transition from being Colin Trevorrow’s Duel of the Fates to Abrams’ Rise of Skywalker, but even the design and plot tweaks made through production. The movie was high stakes and adhered to many masters who needed the franchise to be viable well after Episode 9. There was no George Lucas leading the creative charge (we know, because his sequel trilogy would have looked wild). Things were bound to get messy. But like Star Trek Into Darkness’ controversial John Harrison/Khan reveal, the connection between Rey and Palpatine was a step too far into fan service, and a moment that will live on forever in Star Wars history for all the wrong reasons.

In his short time on Jimmy Kimmel Live!, Josh Gad tried to bring the confusion over The Rise of Skywalker to a close. But here’s the real twist: With every new detail about the making of Abrams’ film, the choices only become more baffling and more curious. The Skywalker Saga is over, but the “Rey’s parents” saga may never end.

https://www.polygon.com/star-wars/2020/9/9/21428786/star-wars-rise-of-skywalker-changes-rey-parents-emperor-twist via Polygon

0 notes

workingclassdan · 8 years ago

Text

All albums I listened to in 2017

1. David Bowie - No Plan (ep) 2. Ryan Adams - Prisoner 3. Gone is Gone - Echolocation * 4. The xx - I See You 5. The Flaming Lips - Oczy Mldy 6. Cloud Nothings - Life Without Sound 7. Japandroids - Near to the Wild Heart of Life 8. Foxygen - Hang 9. Ty Segall - Ty Segall 10. Camp Cope / Cayetana - Split EP 11. Cuddle Magic - Ashes/Axis 12. Hand Habits - Wildly Idle 13. Son Volt - Notes of Blue 14. Sun Kil Moon - Common as Light… (notable for shitness) 15. PVT - New Spirit 16. Steve Vai - Modern Primitive 17. Dirty Projectors - ST (little bubble) 18. Middle Kids - EP 19. Father John Misty - Pure Comedy 20. The Waifs - Ironbark 21. Bruce Springsteen - (Odds & Rarities) 22. Thundercat - Drunk 23. Animal Collective - The Painters EP (kinda bonkers) 24. Los Campesinos - Sick Scenes 25. Grandaddy - Last Place (lost machine) 26. Methyl Ethel - Everything is Forgotten 27. Kingswood - After Hours, Close to Dawn 28. Holy Holy - Paint 29. Vagabon - Infinite Worlds 30. Spoon - Hot Thoughts (do i have to talk you into it 31. Brian Eno - Reflection 32. The Shins - Heartworms 33. Laura Marling - Semper Femina * 34. Rolling Blackouts Coastal Fever - The French Press EP * 35. Temples - Volcano 36. Roy Buchanan - Telemaster Live in 75 37. Real Estate - In Mind 38. Depeche Mode - Spirit * 39. Mastodon - Emperor of Sand * 40. Drake - More Life (Passionfruit) 41. Ben Wright Smith - The Great Divorce 42. Sleepmakeswaves- Made of Breath Only - (hailstones) 43. Aimee Mann - Mental Illness 44. Jesus and Mary Chain - Damage and Joy 45. Steel Panther - Lower the Bar 46. Evyltyde - Rising 47. Spiral Stairs - Doris and the Daggers 48. Julia Holter - In the Same Room * 49. Boss Hog - Brood X 50. British Sea Power - Let the Dancers Inherit the Party 51. Anjou - Epithymia 52. The Melker Project Remix 53. New Pornographers - Whiteout Conditions 54. Future Islands - The Far Field 55. Craig Finn - We All Want the Same Thing 56. Smith Street Band - More Scared of You Than You Are of Me 57. Cold War Kids - La Divine 58. Clark - Death Peak 59. The Black Angels - Death Song 60. Arca - Arca 61. Luke Howard - ? 62. Kendrick Lamar - DAMN. 63. Prince - ep 64. Incubus - 8 65. Amy Shark - Night Thinker ep 66. Mew - Visuals 67. Gorillaz - Humanz 68. Ryan Adams (b-sides) - 69. Tim Rogers - An Actor Repairs * 70. Feist - Pleasure 71. Bill Baird - Easy Machines 72. Bill Baird - Baby Blue Abyss 73. Thurston Moore - Rock n Roll Conciousness 74. Colin Stetson - All This I Do For Glory 75. Bob Dylan - Triplicate 76. Pond - The Weather 77. Alice Coltrane - The Ecstatic Music of Alice Coltrane 78. San Cisco - The Water 79. Doug Tuttle - Peace Potato 80. Big Walnuts Yonder 81. Perfume Genius - No Shape 82. Penguin Cafe - 83. Mac Demarco 84. Afghan Whigs - In Spades 85. At the Drive-In - interalia 86. Slowdive - Slowdive - falling ashes 87. Dead Letter Circus - The Endless Mile - Lines 88. Nick Murphy - Missing Link ep 89. Bob’s Burgers - s/t 90. Fleet Foxes - The Crack-Up 91. BNQT - Volume 1 92. Do Make Say Think - Stubborn Persistent Illusions 93. The Beatles - Sgt Pepper's 94. Dan Auerbach - Waiting on a Song 95. Ben Ottewell - A Man Apart 96. Bernard Fanning - Brutal Dawn 97. Roger Waters - Is This the Life We Really Want 98. Underground Lovers - Staring at You Staring At Me 99. Elder - Reflections of a Floating World 100. Half Waif - form/a ep 101. The Kills - Echo Home non-electric ep 102. Bleachers - Gone Now 103. Amber Coffman - City of No Reply 104. Marika Hackman - I’m Not Your Man * 105. Husky - Punchbuzz 106. U2 - (some bootleg of latest tour) 107. Alt-J - Relaxer (3WW) 108. Beach Fossils - Somersault 109. Mount Eerie - A Crow Looked at Me 110. London Grammar - Truth is a Beautiful Thing 111. Lindsay Buckingham/Christine McVie - 112. Phoenix - Ti Amo 113. Sufjan Stevens, Bryce Dessner, Nico Muhly, James McAlister - Planetarium 114. Big Thief - Capacity Mythological Beauty 115. Kirin J Callinan - Bravado 116. The Magpie Salute - The Magpie Salute (Live) 117. Portugal. The Man - Woodstock 118. Lorde - Melodrama * 119. Royal Blood - How Did We Get So Dark? 120. Ride - Weather Diaries 121. Cigarettes After Sex - s/t 122. King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard - Flying Microtonal Banana 123. Jeff Tweedy - Together at Last 124. Tara Jane O’Neil - s/t 125. Baby Driver soundtrack 126. UNKLE - The Road pt1 127. Silicon Valley soundtrack 128. Haim - Something to Tell You 129. Broken Social Scene - Hug of Thunder 130. Jay-Z - 4:44 131. Tex, Don & Charlie - You Don’t Know Lonely 132. Oh Wonder - Ultralife 133. Radiohead - OKNOTOK 134. Waxahatchee - Out in the Storm 135. U2 (live Vancouver) 136. Japanese Breakfast - Soft Sounds from Another Planet 137. DJ Shadow - The Mountain Will Fall 138. Vera Blue - Perennial 139. Lana Del Rey - Lust for Life 140. Nine Inch Nails - Add Violence ep * 141. Singles soundtrack deluxe 142. Arcade Fire - Everything Now 143. Boris - Dear 144. Perera Elsewhere - All of This 145. Manchester Orchestra - A Black Mile to the Surface 146. The Murlocs - Old Locomotive 147. Dan Sultan - Killer (fire under foot, kingdom) 148. Fountaineer - Greater City, Greater Love 149. Benjamin Gibbard - Bandwagonesque 150. Juanita Stein - America 151. Saskwatch - Manual Override 152. Kid Koala with Emiliana Torrini - Music to Draw To: Satellite 153. David Rawlings - Poor David’s Almanac 154. Damian Cowell's Disco Machine - Get Yer Dag On! 155. Jen cloher - s/t 156. Queens of the Stone Age - Villains * 157. Paul Kelly - Life is Fine I smell trouble 158. Davey Lane - I’m Gonna Burn Out Bright 159. Mogwai - Every Country’s Sun 160. Alvvays - Antisocialites 161. Ben Frost - The Centre Cannot Hold 162. Grizzly Bear - Painted Ruins 163. Iron and Wine - Beast Epic call it dreaming 164. Gang of Youths - Go Farther in Lightness 165. Gold Class - Drum 166. King Gizzard and Mild High Club - Sketches of Brunswick East 167. Steven Wilson - To the Bone 168. The Preatures - Girlhood 169. Filthy Friends - Invitation 170. The War on Drugs - A Deeper Understanding 171. Chris Forsyth and the Solar Motel - Dreaming in the Non-Dream 172. LCD Soundsystem - American Dream 173. Cloud Control - Zone rainbow city 174. Liars - TFCF 175. Neil Finn - Out of Silence 176. Deerhoof - Mountain Moves 177. Jake Bugg - hearts That Strain 178. Gordi - Reservoir 179. Meg Mac - Low Blows 180. The National - Sleep Well Beast 181. Beaches - Second of Spring 182. Chad Vangaalen - Light Information 183. Nothing But Thieves - 184. Foo Fighters - Concrete and Gold 185. Tori Amos - Native Invader 186. The Belligerents - Science Fiction (Sorry to Say) 187. Rostam - Half-Light 188. Hope Sandoval and the Warm Inventions - Until the Hunter 189. Ariel Pink - Dedicated to Bobby Jameson 190. Davey Lane - Back/Here/Forward 191. Lisa Mitchell - When they Play That Song ep 192. Tired Lion - Dumb Days 193. Mastodon - Cold Dark Place ep 194. Godspeed You! Black Emperor - Luciferian Towers 195. Lee Ronaldo - Electric Trim 196. Neil Young - Hitchhiker 197. The Killers - Wonderful Wonderful 198. Hyla - Osaka 199. Trent Reznor & Atticus Ross - The Vietnam War 200. Moses Sumney - Aromanticism 201. British India - Forgetting the Future 202. Matt Cameron - Cavedweller 203. Hammock - Mysterium 204. Ben Frost - Threshold of Faith 205. Philip Selway - Let Me Go 206. Prophets of Rage - s/t 207. Phoebe Bridgers - Starnger in the Alps 208. Pearl Jam - Let’s Play Two 209. Wolf Alice - Visions of a Life 210. Torres - Three Futures 211. Ibeyi - Ash 212. Wolf Parade - Cry Cry Cry 213. Liam Gallagher - As You Were 214. Andrew Bird - Echolocations: River 215. Bladerunner 2049 soundtrack 216. The Horrors - V 217. St Vincent - Masseduction 218. Kurt Vile & Courtney Barnett - A Lotta Sea Lice 219. Beck - Colors 220. Robert Plant - Carry Fire 221. Alex Lahey - I Love You Like a Brother 222. Destroyer - Ken. 223. William Patrick Corgan - wpc 224. Custard - The Common Touch 225. Love Migrate - Somewhere, Over the Mangroves 226. Protomartyr - Relatives in Descent 227. Polish Club - Alright Already 228. Ecca Vandal - s/t 229. Grooms - Infinity Caller 230. Lean Year - s/t 231. Kevin Devine - Instigator 232. King Krule - The Ooz 233. Portico Quartet - Art in the Age of Automation 234. Weezer - Pacific Daydream 235. Hans Zimmer et al (Blue Planet ll soundtrack) 236. Fever Ray - Plunge 237. Julien Baker - Turn Out the Lights 238. Jim Lawrie - Slacker of the Year 239. REM - Automatic for the People (25th Anniversary) 240. Angel Olsen - Phases 241. Stranger Things 2 (Kyle Dixon & Michael Stein) 242. Nathaniel Rateliff and the Night Sweats - Live at Red Rocks 243. Tame Impala - Currents (deluxe) 244. King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard - Polygondwanaland 245. Sharon Jones - Soul of a Woman 246. Bjork - Utopia * 247. Aldous Harding - Party 248. David Gilmour - Live at Pompeii 249. Queen - News of the World (deluxe) 250. Stella Donnelly - Thrush Metal ep 251. U2 - Songs of Experience 252. Noel Gallagher’s High Flying Birds - Who Built the Moon? 253. Taylor Swift - Reputation 254. Kamasi Washington - Harmony of Difference 255. Wand - Plum 256. Weaves - Wide Open 257. Mavis Staples - If All I Was Was Black 258. Neil Young and Promise of the Real - The Visitor 259. Pony Face - Deja Vu 260. The Orbweavers - Deep Leads

Stray tracks: Hans Zimmer & Radiohead Lisa Hannigan - Oh! You Pretty Things Jarvis Cocker & Chilli Gonzalez Jack Whiter Glen Hansard (2) John Butler Trio Ryan Adams - back in your head Brian Eno & Kevin Shields Tropical Fuck Storm (2)

2016 catchups:

Ryley Walker & Charles Rumback Alex Isenberg Lisa Hannigan Margaret Glaspy Catfish and the Bottlemen Badbadnotgood 1 Mile North Chris Forsyth Peep Tempel Tash Sultana Rogue Wave Damien Jurado Love Migrate - Luke Howard Kaleo

7 notes · View notes