#i have wanted this on vinyl for 15 years i have waited and waited and checked and checked and the one time i stopped checking boom 💥

[whizpurr]

[homestuck-archive]

HOMESTUCK: BEYOND CANON NEWS UPDATE!!

Hi, James here. What a week. What a month. What a year. Hope this update finds you well. About time we heard from these guys.

A lot of things goin on this month, it was just announced that the guys over at Requiem are doing their Homestuck Cafe event again this year for the 15 year anniversary. Neat! I won’t be there and I don’t really have much to do with it, but I’m sure they will talk about it in the coming weeks.They’re also doing a limited run of merch for the event, which is kinda cool. If you are in the Southern California area and are the type of person that likes themed desserts and drinks it could be fun!

What else..? Over on Patreon we ran a poll. If you are a member and hadn’t seen it, it looks like people generally want to stagger releases of paid patron content so that it's not all dumped at the beginning of the month. A lot of little projects are waiting to finalize things with like ONE guy, so hopefully I will have more exciting news for you soon.

I promised a little transparency even when it was mundane, so here’s some updates of where we’re at: as a team we’ve been looking at merch and we have an opportunity to do a few shirts (GOD. DAMMIT. THIS ISN'T PART OF THE NEWS UPDATE BY THE WAY, I JUST HATE MORE SHIRTS. GOD.) as a sort of trial run with a manufacturer and supplier to see if we’re worth it, but I kind of want to make something a little more interesting than say an illustration on a hanes beefy-t. You know what I mean? Not even a long sleeve? C'mon man. Chumi has been reaching out to musicians about this vinyl, but if we can’t get ahold of the last two guys we might just have to go ahead without them which would suck. I’ll try reaching out through other avenues as well.

The new websites got some stuff in the works, but we’ll be halting some of that to focus on a few key updates that are coming up that will require a little more on the technical side. In the meantime, keep those suggestions and typo fixes coming.

As a team we are planning to do something small and fun for the anniversary, so stay tuned for more about that next month.

[imogenleewriter]

I have opened up to reading WIPS because of your fics (I love all of them, by the way!!!!!!!). Do you have any others to reccomend? 🥰🥰🥰🥰

Honestly, I hate that WIPs get such a bad wrap. I get it because I hate waiting too, but it's also so exciting to get the email, you know? Like I'd rather get it piece by piece than not at all. I'm not going to make this a pretty post because they won't stay WIPs, but here are some of my favourites! I'm only posting ones that have been uploaded to within the last month, but most have been uploaded to within the last week. I Don't Wanna Face The Music - hereforh / @hereforh Current WC: 24k 3/10 - Weekly uploads. Summary: Louis likes to think he's a pretty normal, typical lad. He likes spending nights at the pub with his mates, he loves football and is very close to his family. So when he moves to London for uni, he doesn’t think much will be different. Until he makes these new friends who are nothing like his mates back home and change his life for the better - and this one boy who messes with his head from the get-go and makes him question everything he has ever thought about himself.

Anything But Awkward - The_Dizzy_Pixie / @dizzy-pixie17 Current WC:91k Ch: 17/? Summary: Harry looked down at the signed album in his hands before flipping it over. He blinked at the sight of the cramped and rather messy handwriting scribbled on the back of the vinyl jacket. When you’re less tongue-tied, maybe give me a call, babes. xx :)  +44 280913 7777 Harry groaned when he walked right into the side of a bus shelter. Louis Tomlinson had given Harry his number. OR The one where Louis's a rockstar, and Harry's his biggest fan. When he meets him at a signing, he's awkward and forgets everything he wants to say to him but Louis thinks he's cute and gives Harry his number.

Babes In Boyland - bananaheathen/@bananaheathen Current WC: 37k Ch: 4/? Summary: The genderqueer parenthood sequel to Of Mates and Men ❤️ In which, Harry and Louis decide to start a family. Or, the one where they all grow up.

The Pros and Cons of Breathing - HelloLovers13/@hellolovers13 Current WC: 50k Ch: 12/19 Summary: Omega Harry has always known he'd be married off someday, so when he's betrothed to Prince Louis, he's anxious about having to leave his life behind, but hopeful for a happy marriage. The hope doesn't last long, with his husband avoiding him at all costs and Harry being left to fend for himself. Can he find happiness even in a broken marriage? everything to lose - stylinsoncity / @stylinsoncity Current WC: 80k Ch: 14/15 Summary: harry is a global popstar who's convinced the world he has it all -- a happy marriage to a devoted alpha, two beautiful children, two grammy awards, three platinum albums, and a budding film career. but some aspects of his image aren't as true as they seem. like the fact he's been separated for over a year, uses meaningless flings to cope and occasionally forgets responsibilities or commitments to his family. he and louis once commanded stages together. they tackled any challenges to their future. and no matter how hard things got, they always returned to one another. harry would always return to louis. until one day, he finds he can't.

Bike Strike - thinlines / @thinlinez Current WC: 62k Ch: 13/14 Summary: What would you do if you saw someone riding your bike, which had been stolen weeks before, across campus? Omega Harry chose to show no mercy. He didn't know it would all lead him to his own demise. The Habit That I Cant Break - Cyantific / @cyantific Current WC:5k Ch:2/10 Summary: While searching for a healthy alternative to fill the void that one habit left, Louis gets hooked on something and someone totally different. This new experience pushes him way out of his comfort zone, making Louis realize he’s capable of so much more than he could’ve ever imagined. Or… The one where Louis quits smoking and tries to get healthy, and Harry is the fitness instructor who helps him achieve those goals while making him sweat in and out of the gym. In which Harry and Louis still meet at bootcamp, just not the one you’re thinking of. Featuring Lottie as the supportive sister that drags her brother to bootcamp class, Louis as the grumpy ex-smoker, Harry as the instructor with exhausting amounts of enthusiasm and one obnoxious pair of yellow trainers.

Addictive Heart - Alwaysinlove /@always-in-love-x Current WC: 91k Ch: 41/? Summary: Louis prefers to be single. He's seen too many relationships crumble around him to want a boyfriend in his life. As a successful singer on tour, his schedule doesn't exactly allow for a relationship anyway. So he has Harry. Beautiful, handsome Harry, who always turns up whenever Louis is lonely or horny. Because Harry is in love with him. Sadly, Louis doesn't do love. Until one day, Harry stops replying to Louis' messages and he goes on a mission to find out why... Two Hearts In One Home - enchantedlandcoffee / @enchantedlandcoffee Current WC: 14k Ch: 3/? Summary: Best friends Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles have been living together for almost 3 years. With Louis' YouTube videos mainly featuring challenges, vlogs, and tutorials, his best friend is unknowingly a common topic on his channel (with his identity hidden) leading his viewers to believe that they are dating. What happens when Harry's childhood friend, Niall Horan, returns from Ireland and turns out to be one of his biggest fans and sends a tweet that turns his life upside down?

On The Horizon - FitzAndLarry / @fitzandlarry Current WC: 169k Ch: 16/? Summary: “Let’s enjoy each others’ company. You’re fit; you’re young; you’re a bloody doctor. You’ve got everything going for you.” There’s a moment of hesitation before Louis plants a gentle kiss atop Harry’s head. “I’ll be whatever you want me to be as long as we’re having fun, yeah?” Drunk, loose, and excited on the first night of his two-week-long cruise, Doctor Harry Styles finds himself with a little extra company on what has turned out to be a lonely experience. Louis, the pilot who helped fly him across the Atlantic, is the object of his fling. Thus begins an adventure filled with laughter, sun, and trauma rearing its ugly head. Deadline on their companionship, the pair commit to enjoying their time - and Harry, the screw-up he is, can't help but lose himself in the fantasy.

[love-songs-for-emma]

Shuffle your favorite playlist and post the first five songs that come up. Then copy/paste this ask to your favorite mutuals. 💌💛

OMG ty adrey!!! i love any excuse to share my music!!!!

songs BE SHUFFLED‼️

1. With A Little Help From My Friends (Remastered 2009) by the Beatles :3

2. death bed (coffee for your head) by Powfu & beabadoobee

3. How To Never Stop Being Sad by dandelion hands

4. Sitting, Waiting, Wishing by Jack Johnson

5. Ocean Man by Ween

HOLY COW. WHAT A GENUINE SHUFFLE ALCBKSCN USUALLY SPOTIFY IS SO BAD AT SHUFFLING WHAT!!!!! I love all of these songs actually omg

This was not apart of the task but im using this as an excuse to talk about these songs below the cut:

1. Beatles songs fill me with such warmth. Hugs. My sister loved them sm and anything my sister loved, I loved. She was ten years older than me. I was raised on the Beatles. Plus they remind me of my beloved emma ( @love-songs-for-maria ) and her family/her mom. My second family being a Beatles household is so nice c: I Get By With A Little Help From My Friends :')

2. There was a time period where i could Not stop listening to this song. I started making art about it back then; this is absolutely reminding me to finish it omg. Also, this song actually /sampled/ beebadoobee's song "coffee," it's not just like a song they made together. So check out "coffee" for a song about healing that makes me CRY and also feel like I'm being HUGGED. Love u beebadoobee

3. Wow. What a classic. How To Never Stop Being Sad was my ULTIMATE cry song when I was like 13. I still think about some of lines (it reads more like spoken word/poetry with backdrop) more as How To *Stop* Being Sad, yknow? Motivational. Like "Become a background character to your own motion picture" -> Be the main character in your life. Take up space. EXIST. ♡

4. The album this comes from, "In Between Dreams," sounds like childhood. Like sitting on the lil fold down square seats in the back of my dad's old lil red pickup truck as we drive to other side of the island to go dirtbike riding with my mom and brother. It's also become something I dont /have/ to associate with that. I got a vinyl record of it when I was about 15/16 and used to play it while dancing around the front room and making breakfast (various friends and partners over the years there or not). It's also mine. My solo drive peaceful music. Sittin, Waitin, Wishin :)

5. This is the sound of the Spongebob Squarepants Movie ending. That's it. That's what it is. First credits song. One of the rare movie endings where the credits actually go SO HARD and I actually prefer letting them play out. I watched this movie a billion times since it came out when I was a kid. The end credits when this plays show waves crashing and it looks like you're surfing and reminds me of Hawai'i, which is where I was still living when it first came out and I'd watch the DVD endlessly!! Perfect song. 0/0 notes. Ocean Man, Take Me By The Hand, Lead Me To The Land That You Understand

Lastly,, I probably would have skipped a song if I didn't like it bc I've been unliking a lot of my Liked Songs on Spotify lately so that my shuffle on Liked Songs is better and bam! There's the payoff! Didn't even skip one for this ask! Wahoo!

If anyone read this to the end, thanks for sharing these memories with me. :) Much love, always. I'll send this out to a few peeps, but if anyone wants it sent to them specifically so they too can be involved and/or ramble on, DM me/let me know! MWAH

[hauntnowpod]

Season 3 crowdfunding update

Hey ghouls,

This is just to say...

Wait, why do I suddenly want plums? Anyway, this is an update to tell you about perks--including one that just dropped like 3.5 minutes ago!

Haunted Hall of Fame $2

Everyone who supports The Way We Haunt Now season three at this level will be listed on our Haunted Hall of Fame and receive a digital copy of the song "Ghosts (Here's the Thing)" from season one!

NEW: Ghost in the Machine $10

Everyone who supports The Way We Haunt Now season three at this level will receive a Digital Swag Pack, including:

Alicia's How-To Guide to Warding Your Apartment (audio)

Ghosts (Here's the Thing) by Actual Pants

Digital Wraith Raccoon Art

A digital Season Three cast & crew poster

Our Death Poetry Salon (from the season 2 campaign)

Paranormal Penpals $15

Everyone who supports at this level will receive a You Haint Seen Nothin’ Yet postcard with a micro-length ghost story written especially for you by creator and showrunner, Courtney Floyd.

Spectral Sticker Pack $30

Supporters at this level will be listed on our Haunted Hall of Fame and receive five (5) The Way We Haunt Now vinyl stickers: the show logo sticker, the haunted phonograph sticker, a glow in the dark phonograph sticker, the wraith raccoon sticker, and a ghoulishy glittering phonograph sticker. Individual stickers also available as add-ons.

Phantasmal Friends $100

Supporters at this level will be listed on our Haunted Hall of Fame and receive the following physical swag: You Haint Seen Nothin’ Yet postcard with a micro-length ghost story written especially for you by creator and showrunner, Courtney Floyd; all four vinyl show stickers; and a 7X7 print of our exclusive season three show poster.

Haunted by the Details Class $100

Have you ever daydreamed about starting your own audio drama, only to be immediately overwhelmed by the nuts and bolts of the process? This is your opportunity to attend a virtual class taught by The Way We Haunt Now creator and showrunner, Courtney Floyd, who has 10 years of teaching experience & works as a learning designer in higher ed.

Spooky Sponsorships $750

Sponsor the entire cost of production for one episode of The Way We Haunt Now’s final season. Supporters at this level will be listed on our Haunted Hall of Fame and in their episode’s audio credits and will be given a pre-roll ad spot (subject to showrunner approval).

[sheetsonfire]

We'll Always Need Each Other | Part 4 | Final Part

Fandom: Chicago PD / Chicago Med

Characters: Jay Halstead, Sister!Reader, Will Halstead, Intelligence

Genre: Angst, hurt/comfort, fluff

Warnings: violence, swearing, abduction, ptsd, torture

Word Count: 3205

Requested By Anon: Hey ! From Resanoona I saw that you're making halstead sis imagines ! Can I request one were Jay and the sis have a big fight but then someone kidnaps her ? And Jay is all worried and when he found her she's like bleeding out (she's been shot) ? But she makes it and they both apology (fluff at the end) ? If you dont want to do it s'okay, just if you do it please can you put it with fem sis reader ? Not gn ? Thanks !

A/N: This is Part 4, here's Part 3, here's Part 2, and We'll Always Need Each Other Part 1

-

Jay can only follow in helpless pursuit of Will and the paramedics as they move you to the ambulance. He feels Kim tug at his arm as she gently pries him away from the ambulance, you wouldn’t all fit. He and Will share a look, one that Will uses to convey “I’ll save her, don’t worry. It’s going to be okay.” It takes a reassuring nod from him for Jay to let the ambulance doors close, moving hastily to climb into the passenger's side of his own truck, silently handing Kim the keys. Too lost in his head to even make a quip about her having the special honour of driving his beloved GMC Sierra.

The drive is not even 7 minutes from Med, yet it’s the most eternal drive Will has ever experienced in the back of an ambulance. With you as stable as you could be in transit, he lets the paramedic in charge do the work as he grasps your cold hand in his warm ones. Eyeing the monitor intermittently between studying your face, you were still so young, your life shouldn’t have ever been so close to ending. Your hand seems more fragile and tiny than it ever has in his, even more than when you were a literal toddler whom he used to carry on his shoulders.

Taking in the stillness of your body he’s reminded of the last time he had seen you similar to this. Oddly, it makes him smile. 

[Flashback] 

“Will, hurry up, we’re going to be late!” You hollered from the living room.

“Alright, give me a second, Jay got the wrong size for this thing!” Will huffs from the bathroom, brushing his hair to suit the costume he was now stuffed into. 

“This is ridiculous.” He mutters, shaking his head with a small chuckle, knowing how much you’d both hate and love his Halloween outfit. 

He picks up his car keys and the two pumpkin buckets he had bought for collecting your candy. You were 15 but you were only growing to love Halloween more and more. This year District 21 was holding a party, and Jay had selected you and Will as a unified plus one. “Okay, alright. Let’s do this thing.”

Coming out to the living room he doesn’t see you, frowning in confusion as he could have sworn that’s where your voice had originated from. He doubles back to check in your room, only to find it empty. 

“Y/N? Where are you, you goofball. Don’t you dare make me jump!” 

He moves further into the living room, scanning carefully every conceivable nook and cranny before he spots a long object in front of the couch. A coffin. 

He laughs now, heading towards the black vinyl box, giving it a courtesy knock before lifting the lid. 

There you were, in stunningly realistic makeup, hollow cheeks, pale skin, fangs protruding from your mouth, a velvet suit and cape squished into the plush lining of the prop coffin you’d managed to find. He hadn’t even seen that thing before now, when the heck had you got into the apartment?

“You, you’re a creepy kid. And I love you for it. Good freaking job, short stuff!” 

You crack an eye open, your luminous red lips turning up into a grin as you hold out a hand, waiting for Will to help you up and out of the coffin. 

Springing to your feet you take in the sight of your big brother, snorting and chuckling as you realise what Jay had picked for him. 

“Oh my god. Chucky? He got you a Chucky outfit? Dude, those dungarees are giving you a major wedgie. Nice job on the hair, you look SO weird, but awesome.”

“Don’t I know it, but it’ll do. And thanks, glad I could pass quality control.” He grins then falters into a grimace as he wiggles in his dungarees, a fake knife tucked into the front pocket. Bending to help you lift the coffin. 

“I assume this is coming with us?” 

“Duh!” You exclaim, swishing your cape as you grab one end to take down to Will’s car. 

[End of Flashback]

Will gets Connor’s attention the second they’re through the ED doors with you, reeling off the injuries he knew about, had seen, had felt beneath his hands, knowing he couldn’t do anything for you now except wait. You had suffered extensive trauma, and the blood loss was the biggest concern. He almost can’t will himself to let go of you as they start to take an assessment of all your injuries, the bruises, the burns, the gunshot that takes him right back to when he thought you were both going to lose Jay. His legs feel leaden with dread.

Maggie appears quietly next to him, rubbing his back reassuringly, brows still furrowed in worry for you as she gently pulls your brother back out into the main hubbub of the ED. Connor is by your gurney’s side as they roll you out, looking at Will with a set expression of confidence and reassurance, “Will, I’ve got her, man. I’m gonna do everything.” He nods as he squeezes his friend’s shoulder. Will nods back, giving a weak smile of gratitude. Feeling like an extra limb was being pulled away from him as you disappear towards the elevator for emergency scans and the OR.

-

“Will!” Jay hollers, striding purposefully into the ED with Kim in tow, watching from afar to give your brothers some privacy. Will turns to face Jay, it’s only now that the adrenaline wears off. Seeing Jay also covered in your blood somehow brought it all into stark clarity that you were fighting for your life right now. He loved you and Jay more than anything, and he couldn’t have one without the other. Knowing Jay would be equally as crushed if… if… well, he couldn’t and wouldn't finish the thought. 

Jay pulls Will out of his reverie with a gentle hand on his elbow, his voice is quiet. He needs to ask the question, but afraid of what Will's professional eyes might show.

“Is she, will she-” Will’s head drops, he didn’t know, these things could go one way or the other. They both knew that all too well.

Will clears his throat, looking down at his blood-stained hands and forearms. “She’s… she’s in good hands, Jay. Connor’s hands. If anyone can bring her through, it's him and his team.” The detective follows Will's gaze, his stomach churning as he realises he's matching too, with smears of now dried reddish-brown on his skin.

Maggie is one to help at all times, but there had always been something about you three Halsteads she took a shine to. She can't help but feel protective of your brothers at the moment, “Come on boys, let's get you cleaned up. Then you can wait upstairs…”

-

Your brothers scrub thoroughly at their skin, watching in silence as it swirls into the sinks. An unspoken fear and grief settled into their bones. It’s Jay that speaks first. 

“Will, I just want you to know that-”

“Jay, please… please don’t be sorry anymore, you didn’t do this to her, they were always going to take her because they’re animals. He was an animal. You found her, we got her, that’s what I care about. I care about her being here with us until we’re old and need her to wheel us around.”

“You found her,” Jay states, a proud glint in his eyes. 

“What?” Will knew on the surface he had got the ball rolling, but he knew very well he wouldn’t be able to take out hostile men with guns, even if he would try for you. 

“You found her with that poster. And I won’t let you forget it, man. I didn’t know how I was going to live with myself if we didn’t figure it out in time.” Jay looks down, it’s not a secret that Jay tended to harbour guilt about anything and everything, he was his own worst punisher. 

“But we did, okay?” Will reaches forward, bringing Jay into an embrace he has been long overdue. 

He wouldn’t mention it out loud, but Will could feel the gentle shake of Jay’s body, the adrenaline wearing off for him too now.  “Please, just let me help you. Let us be there for you, and we gotta be there for her, in every way now.” Jay nods into Will’s shoulder, holding him tighter for a moment. Will brings a hand to Jay’s hair, the back of his head, rubbing comfortingly like he used to when Jay had nightmares.

"I wanna get better, Will. I'm going to get better." Jay exhales, redness around his eyes from tears constantly threatening to fall, weakly laughing off his vulnerability.

Will gives him one last squeeze, "I know you'll do it, Jay. You always do." Will offers a smile, his own eyes watery too, still holding onto Jay’s arm in reassurance. 

“Come on, let’s change out. We can get you some scrubs.” On any other day Jay might complain about the selection of attire available to him, but today he was desperate to get upstairs and wait for Connor to come out of your surgery with the news. He nods, offering a quiet, “Thanks, man.” as Will leads him to the locker room.

-

Will had gotten up early for his shift at Med before all hell had broken loose, so now it was more than understandable that no amount of worry and watchfulness could stop him from dozing off in the waiting room chair, arms folded over his chest, leaning against Jay’s side in the mild bustle of patients and doctors. 

Jay sits staring at the wall opposite, eyes burning with the same exhaustion that Will had but unable to switch off. A habit from the Rangers that sometimes reared its ugly head, the training to stay awake even when you didn’t want to.

He thinks of the argument from a few nights ago, the callousness of his words. He knew they held no truth, yet he had delivered them as gospel. The hurt in your expression, the look of someone who had lost the battle to save someone they care about. He rubs a hand over his face, gathering his thoughts bit by bit. He had been losing himself, it was time to come back.

As he shifts in his chair, Will still remains a heavy lump against his side, he feels a sensation on his wrist. A featherlight tickling. Glancing down his heart skitters with nerves, he traces his fingers over the braided bracelet you had made for him after Erin’s departure. It was an "I'm sorry you got ghosted, don't forget your pain in the ass sister loves you" gift. Your words, not his.

The bracelet was comprised of his favourite colours and beads that had the letters “Y/F/I”, “W”, and “J” interspersed in the braiding. He hadn’t taken it off since the day it was handed to him. Now it had a few patches of your blood on it, something he'd have to figure out cleaning when you all got home. Salty tears stung his eyes, you were his sunshine, his reason to wake up on days that might have otherwise kept him bedridden and hopeless, you were his reason to fight every case with the same energy and tenacity, to be your someone to look up to was his point of pride. He could only offer a prayer to anyone listening that you still saw him that way when you woke up.

-

The sound of double doors opening snaps Jay awake, spine straightening abruptly as he catches his bearings, realising that he and Will had switched roles at some point. Jay blinks, about to ask how long he was out for as he swipes at an ever so slight amount of drool from his face. 

“Hey, Connor’s coming.” Will nods in his direction, both of your brothers getting to their feet in an instant, Will already trying to read the surgeon’s expression.

“Connor.”

“Hey guys… so, she had a tough time in there, the blood loss was significant. I don't want to sugarcoat anything... so, she did code, but we got her back and we repaired the damage without complications. She’s stable and I’m confident of a full recovery. Though the psychological aspects of this will be difficult, so I’ve already asked that Dr Charles assess her in a few days once she’s had some time.” 

Both your brothers’ stomachs drop at the words “she did code” but ultimately you were still here with them and you were going to be okay, in time they would see to it that you felt safe and like you could carry on with your life. 

Will claps his hand on Connor’s shoulder, “Thank you so much, Connor.”

Jay offers a hand to shake, “Connor, man, I owe you big.”

Connor shakes his head, waving them away, “Come on, you know I love that kid like she was my sister too. I’m just so glad she’s here. I know you’ll want to see her, so let me just check she’s settled in her room, and then I’ll take you.”

-

Approaching your room your brothers take in the sight of you, you were still pale, marks from where you had been beaten covered your skin, your leg was strapped up, various drips hanging by your bedside, the steady rhythm of your heart on the monitor. You were safe, you were healing, you were alive.

“Oh, Y/N…” Will murmurs, taking up a chair on one side of the bed, instantly reaching around the tubes to take your hand again, the pressure in his chest easing as he feels the increased warmth of your skin compared to the last time. 

Jay approaches slowly like you’d snap up in your bed and tell him to leave. But nothing happens, you remain peacefully asleep and he allows himself to sit in the other chair on the opposite side to Will. Lifting a soothing hand to your forehead, stroking the edges of your hair. 

“Sunshine.”  He speaks softly and brings your other hand up to kiss your palm. “I love you so much, and I’m going to spend every day looking for your forgiveness. You hear me? I am so sorry, Y/N. I just want you to be well again, I need you, I’ll always need you. I want you to know that.” He keeps your hand in his, eyeing Will who looks at him sympathetically. 

“That goes to you too, brother. I mean it.” 

“Man, I thought we already established that I forgive you. Stop beating yourself already, we’re a family again, that’s all I care about.”

“Mhm… I ag–ree…” Your brothers snap their heads in your direction, seeing bleary eyes looking back at them and a dopey medicated smile. 

“Y/N!” Will exclaims in a hushed, excited, tone.

“Will.” You wiggle your fingers in his hand ever so slightly, appreciating his kind face as though it could disappear and you’d be right back in that room again. After a beat, you find yourself satisfied that this was reality and that you had your big brothers to thank for that.

“That… sucked. Ngh…” Your eyes flutter against the sleepiness.

Will glances at the monitor, keeping an ever-watchful eye on your vitals, “How’s the pain, Y/N?” 

You giggle with a wince at your redheaded brother, “Oh, I’m on cloud nine, my dude. Don’t even worry about it.” You smirk, taking slow breaths, getting used to the post-surgery feeling. Blinking a few more times you graciously accept the slow sips of water that Will offers, licking your dry lips. A moment passes and it’s like somebody cleaned the fog over your eyes, things feel somewhat clearer.

“Mhm, that’s better. You’re the real you.” You remark towards Will.

He raises his eyebrows, “The real me?” 

You grimace, realising you hadn’t meant to give away that information. Stomach protesting nervously as you recall the terrible sensation of hallucinating. 

“You were a hallucination at one point today, not my most favourite thing when you wanna be rescued. I gotta say.” 

Will’s face drops a little, so utterly sad that you had to go through any of this. He squeezes your fingers a little more, reassuring you of his realness. “Well, this is very real now, kiddo. Don’t you worry, alright?” 

You hum, giving a slight nod, through your medicated fog you realise you haven’t yet addressed Jay. You turn your stiff neck, exhaling as you take in your other brother’s face too. 

“Hey, kid.” Jay greets, looking a little pensive as he waits for your reaction to him. 

You reach out with the arm that isn't strapped to your side, taking a second to trace your fingers over Jay's face. "You're real too. That's nice."

Jay doesn't know whether to laugh or cry, taking your hand and holding it in his. He barely even moves his mouth to speak before you give a negative sound, stopping him.

"Nuh-uh."

"What?" He plays along.

"We're not playing the 'Jay feels a crazy amount of guilt' game. You were an asshole to me, yeah. But if you think for one second that after all of that I'm not going to be relieved to see you? You might as well be the one fruit loopin' on morphine."

Jay drops his head, holding on to your hands like a lifeline.

"Jay, look at me." He lifts his head, giving you his full attention.

"You were hurting, I knew that. That's why I tried so hard in the first place... Will and I, we love you beyond belief. And we know you love us the same. So please, just promise you'll let us help you, that's all I want to hear about it."

He swallows, nodding, sparing Will a glance too. Seeing pride and affection there in his brother's eyes, Will was in awe of your selflessness.

"I promise, Y/N."

"Good." You exhale, starting to feel sleepy again.

"Now, before I take another drug nap. I know what I just said, and I stand by it...but Jay, you were a massive dick to me the other night, so like... I would like some sort of compensation... maybe you can take some furlough and we can play an unholy amount of video games and eat trash?"

Jay chuckles, shaking his head. "I'm sure that can be arranged, I was gonna take time off to look after you anyways. Will too."

You look to Will with glee, and then back to Jay.

"And maybe you can finally check the budget for splitting the cost on that new art tablet I wanted?" You give him your best puppy-dog pleading face, sure that you probably looked deranged with how fast sleep was approaching.

Jay raises his eyebrows, still smiling at your willingness to strike on the opportunity.

"I think we can consider that, yeah. I'm sure Will would be delighted to help, wouldn't you, bud?"

Will glares in Jay's direction, making you giggle as you feel the warm haze of slumber find you again, mumbling "Suckers." as your eyes finally close.

-

FIN.

A/N: And that concludes this story! I hope you all enjoyed reading!

Y/F/I - Your first initial

tags: elius-learns-to-write - iamasimpingh0e - resanoona - waywardfamily - trulylavandedarling - darlingyoureperfection - tri1924-blog - onekodareption04 - Illyrianprincess - vamp-army

[pixelatedquarter]

god i remember being 11 years old and listening to tttyg on repeat and feeling like pete wentz was the only one who understood me and i have so many old scratched cds from when i'd just listen to fob on my discman 24/7 and i was so excited about this album when it came out i preordered the vinyl and i was just so happy they were BACK i had no idea how insane this tour was gonna be... they played PAVLOVE i am STILL not over pavlove... and getting to see these streams and the updates and these songs they haven't played for 15 years,,, headfirst slide!! headfirst fucking slide!!!! this tour was so amazing... and it really does feel open-ended. like, this could be every tour now that they know how much we want it. i keep thinking about how we went from folie songs getting booed off the stage to pavlove being the holy grail... we've all come so far

god yeah we've come so far, to think for a while there we were still hearing headfirst slide and earnestly posting "SHE LIVES!!!" because they not only had played it, they hadn't taken it off the setlist, and they never did (okay they did it once, but you get the gist of it). And then they played all of folie, every song in some form or another has been played live (other than lullabye, true). And now they're playing pavlove not even to close 2ourdust, it's a special song still but we've come so far that it's normal enough for a repeat 8 ball. it's on spotify and youtube (and they never did fix the lyrics of that vid lmao)!

....and that's just folie. it's not even the only or craziest album that's been re-embraced and that itself is so wild to think about. I think they know now, like really know, that there's space for them to do all this wild stuff and we'll be here for it and i can't wait to see what comes next

[misshunnybee]

Literally reconsidering everything with this band and this fandom???? I love Greta Van Fleet and I love their music, but selling, signed copies of the vinyl a week before it’s released and letting people buy four at a time is just insane to me. I don’t care if you have friends that wanted the vinyl ao its good that you could order multiple or anything letting people buy more than one at a time it’s just opening it up to resellers and I can’t wait till August comes around and we see signed vinyls going for over $1000, if you’re going to release multiple different pre-orders of the vinyl, I would think they would want to reward those who ordered earliest with a signed vinyl. I’ve been in this fandom for quite a few years and I’ve seen the boys go through a lot of changes and it’s just a little concerning with the electric tomb and now this, I know that they care about us in a way, and in their own way, but I just really wish they would open their eyes to resellers and fiercely try to combat resellers of both tickets and merchandise in every way they can and I’ll say it I wish they were would reward fans who have been here longer, and fans who show up and show out as soon as they can. The signed vinyls sold out in else than 15 minutes, they gave us no warning they were doing this and did it in the middle of a work day, i didnt see it until it had been up for 13 minutes and it was sold out. I love their music and the personalities they show us and everything but it is really hard. Some people bought multiple versions of a record theyve never heard because they love these boys so much and yet they want to release a signed version for sale where you can buy four at a time without giving any first go at it to fans who are in the electric tomb or have been signed up to the peaceful Army email list or anything.

And also, who knows!!! Maybe I’m wrong and maybe they’re selling some signed ones and also the pre-order especially the original pre-order will come signed as well but at this point it just seems like they’re so out of touch and there so resistant to rewarding those who show up for them, maybe ill eat my words and theyll straighten shit up

[mywifeleftme]

297: I Giganti // Terra in bocca (Poesia di un delitto)

Terra in bocca (poesia di un delitto) I Giganti 1971, Ri-Fi

Today was the day I think I finally turned heel as a record collector. There’s a cute little shop not far from my house that specializes in CDs, but has a modest used vinyl selection. Most of it is very basic fare (I’ve never seen so many Blood, Sweat & Tears records in one place in my damn life), but all priced like it’s ten years ago and the vinyl speculating bubble never happened. I ducked in for the first time last week, and after some assiduous digging plucked some outrageous gems: an original pressing of Junior Kimbrough’s All Night Long and a Canadian OP of Richard & Linda Thompson’s I See the Bright Lights Tonight! The first goddamn Exuma record for $11! I even found Roger Miller’s debut, a theoretically dirt common record that’s nonetheless eluded me for years. I walked out with easily $250 worth of squeaky-clean wax I actually wanted for less than $100.

But rather than just enjoying my good fortune, it set the blackly gleaming coils of avarice inside me into motion. I’d snagged a cool little compilation of Bengali playback songs by Aarti Mukherjee for $12 from their modest little Indian music section (a record I had to add to Discogs myself), and while grooving to it I decided to look up a couple of the others I remembered seeing there. That’s when I discovered the Lata Mangeshkar record I’d briefly considered at $15 last sold on Discogs for almost $380. Reader, I try to suppress my Jungian Deals for Deals’ Sake shadow, but through my father’s side of the family tree I’ve inherited a deep streak of flea market cretinism. I fear this situation has made it ascendant. The shop was closed the day I made my dark Discogs discovery, so I waited, slavering, for the following morning, whereupon I told my coworkers I had to walk a traveling friend’s dog and would pick up the hour at the end of my shift, and shambled to the store to see if my dusty prize was still there.

Portrait of the collector courtesy the Royal Arachnological Museum

I felt as though I were robbing the mom and pop shop as I clutched the LP to my chest, telling myself that at least their small selection of recent extreme metal records were neatly labeled with little post-it notes that indicated the shopkeep had compared his stock with Amazon’s algorithmically-deranged marketplace, but I knew I was only lying to myself. These poor sods didn’t know about Discogs. Only I did, and it had merely cost me a shred of my soul. I bought the Mangeshkar, and two Bengali records of unclear value, though one is autographed. And I bought this dorky Italo prog record reissue on blue vinyl that I have far less legitimate musical interest in than the Mangeshkar, purely because some Greek psychopath is trying to sell his copy for $300 US, and other pressings are starting at $75 and up. It’s a concept album about the Mafia that was so thoroughly censored by Italy’s corrupt media it was practically unknown till the ‘90s, which, as a backstory, objectively rocks. A lot of it sounds like Jesus Christ Superstar, which objectively sucks. I Giganti thank Karl Marx on the back of the sleeve but include a poem by the horny proto-fascist Gabriele D’Annunzio in the gatefold, who pioneered Mussolini’s tactic of haranguing crowds from his balcony window and in an unrelated incident later fell out of a window and hurt himself so badly he had to withdraw from politics, which is confusing. The album itself is… fine really, has some cool Mellotron, though I’d rather hear Goblin play The Godfather theme. Someday I will try to sell it for a profit, but if God is just the bubble will collapse before then and I’ll be entombed with it.

297 reviews in, I am finally lost.

297/365

[misssagustd]

Unreleased (2)

"Noona, I had concerts in three countries in Asia and you never went to one of them. I told you just email me and I'll send you the QR tickets." Yoongi would not let you off the hook for ditching his offer to watch one of his shows. He's now pulling the noona-dongsaeng card to get you to watch one of the Korea legs of his tour. "Come to the last day! The final final!" This got you confused as fuck. "The last final final?! Jesus Christ, Yoongi, get the name of your tour right." You can tell he was laughing silently by the short gasps of air he was taking. "The announced dates are just two - June 24 and 25. But the other three I'll announce on the 25th. Surprise!" You roll your eyes at his humor. "Noona, you said I'm your bias even if you dated Namjoon! Come on, I promise it will be worth the flight to Korea. Don't you miss us?! The maknaes do - more than Joon!" This concert means so much to your bestest friend in the world, so how can you say no? One of the things you feared you'd lose when you and Joon broke up was your friendship with Yoongi. After all, they've been literally together more than half their lives. Thankfully, Yoongi was the kind of person who can balance friendships no matter how complicated they seemed.

You left Korea a month after you broke up with Joon. Yoongi and the rest of the guys kept in touch, but they were careful not to mention Joon or any of his whereabouts. Yoongi did say that Joon had a complete signed set of his album, Indigo, ready for you, but they were now stuck in Genius Lab because Joon didn't know you'd left for good. "Get your albums when you come here. There's a vinyl, too. The white boxes look so out of place in my studio," he complained. "So when is the final final final?" you ask. "August 6! But stay longer after the concert. I don't have much time to go out between June and August. Hyung's getting married and I've other stuff planned. We miss you, stay with us a bit longer." Hearing Yoongi say that suddenly made you miss them all, too. "Hmmmkay. How about August 1 to 10? Or 12? Two weeks should be enough! I might not have a job waiting for me when I get back." Yoongi was so happy, you can imagine him happy-dancing all over his studio. "See you, noona!!! I'll get the team to send you the QR ticket for August 6. Wooohhhoooo!!!"

It's been three years. Everything felt familiar, yet also new. You were surprised you still knew how to navigate your way around Incheon's arrival area, and even more surprised that you can still carry a decent conversation in Korean with someone who's not Yoongi. Normally you would've just taken the shuttle bus or taxi to your hotel, but Yoongi sent a car for you, which was already waiting at the exit bay. You drive through familiar buildings, streets, malls, and restaurants. On the flight here you were expecting to be flooded by unpleasant memories, but they seemed distant and nonexistent as Korea's rush hour welcomed you back.

Your phone rings. It's Yoongi video-calling you from his studio. "Are you here already?" He asks as he lowers the volume of the music. He was obviously working on something. "Yeah, maybe 15 more minutes to the hotel." He looks at the clock on his desk. "Cool. Jimin's coming off from rehearsal in an hour. You up for dinner with us?" Honestly, you just wanted to sleep because your supposed to be early-morning flight from Manila was pushed back to the afternoon, but dinner sounds good, too. "Your treat?" Yoongi scrunches his nose at your question. "I know you'll say yes if I say yes, so yes."

After checking in and unpacking some of the clothes you brought, you realize you have time to spare so you take a quick shower before heading out to dinner. Yoongi already texted you the name of the restaurant, and the same car that fetched you from the airport will bring you there. Apparently, he hired it for your entire stay here. "So I wouldn't have to think how you'll get back to your hotel in case I can't drive you," he said.

When you got to the restaurant Yoongi and Jimin were already there. You've video-called Yoongi frequently over the years so you already knew what he looks like, but seeing Jimin's built for the first time took you by surprise. "Jimin-ah!!! You've been working out!" He looks up from his phone and gives his signature eye-smile laugh. "Yaaaaaah! So good to see you again, Y/N!" He stands up and gives you a tight hug. "We thought you forgot about us already. Good thing Yoongi-hyung has these concerts otherwise we'd have to find a reason to go to you to Manila." Yoongi motions to the empty seat beside Jimin. "Are we waiting for someone else?" you ask as you take a seat. You catch Yoongi and Jimin exchanging a quick uncomfortable look with each other, then Yoongi looks at you. "Nope, just the three of us."

You catch up mostly with Jimin and how he's been doing since his Billboard feat. Yoongi was silent most of the time that you and Jimin were talking, but you notice him glancing anxiously at his phone several times. "Yoongi, you okay? Are you waiting for someone?" He looks at Jimin again, then the latter shakes his head as if to say, "Give it up, hyung." Yoongi sighs and leans back in his seat. "We asked Joon if he could come and join us - just me and Jimin. But Tae slipped in our group chat that you arrived today, so..." Jimin sighs. "So he hasn't been replying to us for the past two hours." He continues after taking a swig of his beer. "We just thought it was a good idea for him to see you again. He was a mess after your breakup. Wouldn't leave the studio, wouldn't go out with us. It's like he was on auto-pilot, only smiled and talked and socialized when needed at work." "Otherwise, he's dead," Yoongi added.

You wanted to hit Yoongi and Jimin on the head. Of course, Joon would back out the minute he knew you were joining them for dinner. It was not a "good idea" at all to set him up like that with his ex after not seeing her for three years. But you say nothing and just shake your head. "Don't bug him. If he doesn't want to see me, it's okay. He's not what I'm here for, anyway, right?" You raise your glass for a toast and smile widely at Yoongi.

On the ride back to the hotel, you think about how Jimin and Yoongi described Joon post-breakup. This is the first time they've talked about Joon openly - mostly it's about his album or upcoming projects. You can't imagine Joon being a mess because, between you, he's always the composed one. He isn't easily fazed by chaos and would still manage to have time to hear out your problems even if he's got a million things running in his head already. You admired this about him, but he said he only became like that because he was exposed to pressure at a very young age.

Your phone buzzes and a familiar number flashes on the screen. You blink once, twice. The call was about to end when you slide the green icon to accept it.

"Hey." There's no mistaking that deep voice, almost talking in a whisper. "Are you really here?"

[dealgemeneverwarring]

Best records 2022 - part two

So, in the latest episode of De Algemene Verwarring, #84, I mentioned that I put a list of what I think are the best records of 2023 on my personal Facebook page, and that is a bit of a pity for Facebook users that are not connected with me and even more for non-Facebook users, as someone pointed out. Some listeners are curious, but honestly, if you’re a regular listener of the show you should probably be familiar with most of these. And it won’t surprise many of you that there are quite some Swedish records in there. So, here we go. 5 to 1.

5.The Shifters - Open Vault (Adagio830) - The Shifters didn’t release anything new since 2020, and this compilation of demos, live tracks and home recordings was already put online on their Bandcamp page in that same year on one of those Bandcamp Fridays, I downloaded it back then and have been waiting for a vinyl release ever since.  Really hoping on actual new material from this band in 2023. I wanted to post the track The New Bleached Fuhrer, but I can only find the full album on the youtubes, so here it is.

4. Myriam Gendron - Ma Délire, Songs of Love, Lost and Found (Les Album Claus) - I was completely blown away by the track “C’est Dans Les Vieux Pays” when I first heard it on the Dynamite Hemorrhage podcast. Here’s another track that I really really love and like to singalong to.

3. Luster - Luster (Morc Records) - There are not a lot of bands where I tolerate the flute as an instrument. Luster is one of the bands I tolerate. Amazing record by this six-piece of Belgian experimental music scene stars, folk and shoegaze and drone.

2. Treasury Of Puppies - Mitt Stora Nu (Discreet Music) - the difficult second album from the Göteborg duo. Everyone likes their debut better. I don’t. Brilliant album.

1. Amateur Hour - Krökta Tankar Och Brända Vanor (Appetite) - this is the third studio album from the Swedish trio of Dan Johansson (Sewer Election Neutral, Enhet För Fri Musik Heinz Hopf,...), Hugo Randulv (Enhet För Fri Musik, Skiftande Enheter, Typical Girls) and Julia Bjernelind (Typical Girls), and not everyone think it’s their best one, but I do. This ideal mix between pop music, shoegaze, Cocteau Twins era goth music, and noise makes Amateur Hour a unique band and one that combines the best of all worlds that I like. Posting the track here with the best title of the year, 15 minutes of sheer beauty.

[craftygal1965]

Here’s to 2023 not being a dumpster fire like the last 3 yrs.

Dumpster Fire Crochet Pattern w/ 100% Soft

December 21, 2020

crocheted version of 100% Soft dumpster fire

Let’s knock out 2020 with THE BEST CROCHET PROJECT OF THE YEAR!!! It’s 100% Soft‘s Dumpster Fire!!! Truck asked if I wanted to translate his iconic and super popular Dumpster Fire into a crocheted plush, and I said OF COURSE.

crocheted version of 100% Soft's dumpster fire

I stayed as true as I could to his original vinyl toy. I didn’t want y’all just crocheting a box with some weak flames inside. This means that the construction is a little bit more involved than with some of my other projects, but I truly feel the results are worth it. I mean, just look at this dude!

Twinkie Chan and her crocheted dumpster fire, also wearing a black dumpster fire t shirt by 100% Soft

bottom of crocheted dumpster fire

back view of crocheted dumpster fire

I have a YouTube tutorial for you also. It’s my longest yet at 2 hours and 15 minutes long. Get ready to hunker down with me. If you don’t need the video, you can find the free pattern below, and also a more gorgeous, printer-friendly PDF in my Etsy shop.

I can’t wait to see all of your lil dumps!

[weneverlearn]

My Favorite Record Store

Ah, the things you find on old laptops...

While recently seeing if my previous laptop could still breath, I found some old writings. This one, below, is a piece I did about 10 years ago when asked to write about my favorite records store for a compendium the now defunct Get Bent website was putting together. My particular fave rave store didn't just rest on a good used selection, but ended with an appearance from the FBI!

Then last week, Record Revolution in the Coventry section of Cleveland, closed - I frequented that place a few times over the years; then I tripped across the Other Music documentary last weekend on Night Flight, and that seemed like another cosmic nudge to post this.

So check it out if you care, and go visit your local record store today!

If memory serves, the first album I bought at Wax Stax...

************************************************

Wax Stax, Parma, Ohio, 1985 – Eric Davidson

My hometown of Parma, Ohio, was a suburb (the largest in the nation in the later 1970s; not anymore), on the west side, about 15 minutes from Cleveland proper. That’s where the great record stores were, on the far east side of Cleveland specifically; or in Lakewood, the slowly hip-morphing near west side suburb that had cool things like neat old homes, vintage stores, dusty dives, rusting diners, even gay people. But that was still about 15 minutes away from no-drivers license me.

         So I made do with the weak mall chain store (yeesh); and a surprisingly worthy shop, Record Revolution, that sat on the far, old, outdoor strip of that mall (my first lesson in learning how most of the things I appreciate in this world will be shoved to the margins). I got my first Velvet Underground record there (White Light, White Heat). There was a huge Peaches Records & Tapes (one of many of the disappearing non-mall, self-standing chain stores, though this one oddly survived under different names until just a few years ago). And then a good used joint, Record Exchange, opened in a small retail strip within walking distance. (It moved a few years later, after adding racks of video games, an ocean of used VHS tapes, and metal tees, and changed its name to “The Exchange,” no doubt to divorce itself from the dying music market.)

And before that even, there was always The Shoppe, a quirky, incense-stunk, flared pants-era cobble of curiosity shops in a big old house in kind of nearby Berea. They always touted that their new vinyl was only $5. Like I wanted a new copy of The Nylon Curtain! It was only worth bothering a friend to drive me there for the selection of “imports,” which at that time in the ‘burbs meant anything not on a major label; or even lame-lier, a German Red Lorry Yellow Lorry 12” single. But I did find some of my early favorites there. I remember, in 1983, sitting in the car outside The Shoppe, the heater on, snowy outside, waiting for my friend to finish his purchase, looking over the Murmur liner notes, thinking “Man, I can’t believe they had a copy of this!”

         So all things considered, I guess I didn’t have it that bad. But the Parma-approachable record stores always had that patina of “west side” to them, which if you lived in Cleveland then, you’d understand. No cool fliers on a board near the door. (“Baby sitter Needed!” doesn’t count.) No piles of weekly newspapers and more fliers flopped around the windowsill near the door. No endless racks of dirty plastic-sleeve 7’ singles. And no crotchety “old” 29-year old at the counter making fun of/informing my purchasing habits. Not that the local stores didn’t have their charms, but let’s put it this way – in 1985, you don’t want Scorpions and Heart posters on the walls of your indie record shop. You want Cramps and Smiths.

         So oh the joy when Wax Stax opened! Tucked away in an even more remote, crumbling, and weird little strip, behind another nearly as old strip, next to a barber shop and nothing else, to me it was the Taj Mahal. With Cramps posters. On the way to/from Wax Stax, I had to pass the Catholic church I was weekly hauled to. And pondering the contradictions between the church rooftop cross and the Stooges, Ramones, Prince, and Rodney Dangerfield albums in my hand did more to form my morality than 1,000 confirmation classes. At least it felt like 1,000!

         But back to the real place of worship…Wax Stax was great! Smaller than any of the previously mentioned stores in town, it was packed with a much higher percentage of cool shit. The thing is, there was a Wax Stax on the east side, and this was an attempt to expand into white flight-ville. So when they opened, the place was already packed with lots of great used and new goodies sent over from the other store on the cool east side. They had actual imports, bootlegs, fanzines, and the #1 sign of any great with-it record store of that era – promo copies. Lots and lots of promo copies.

         See, back then record labels did not just email out, via publicists, a mp3 to blog writers who won’t even take the time to download them. No, record labels sent out finished copies of their albums. (While I wrote for the Cleveland Scene magazine in the late-80s/early-90s, I probably accumulated 33% of my collection via the “freebie box” in their offices, or trade-ins of said freebies.) And labels sent promo copies to record stores too, often more than one. Made sense, right? You want to make sure the employees can hear the new shit, talk it up to the customers, and hopefully order more. Ha, right! What the hell do the employees care? They would’ve ripped open a new one to hear it. But whatever, it was a wealthier time. (Or is that wasteful-er?)

         Bad Moon Rising, Zen Arcade, Tim – probably paid no more than $4 for each of them. Promos all! (Not to mention all their used records rarely rose above $5; new, $8.) The lone female clerk/manager was not only from the east side too – and hence knew what “Pere Ubu” meant – but was not surly and condescending in the traditional indie record shop sense, and pretty cute, too-boot! And she gave great trade. So I was bringing in Bobby Brown and Guadalcanal Diary promos, and a few of these fledgling “CDs” I was getting from the Scene, and trading them in for cheap-ass copies of Death of Samantha, Buzzcocks, and the Volcano Suns. It was as close to mafia accidental back of truck falling off shenanigans as I was likely to get in my life. Or so I thought.

         One day, a little less than two years after Wax Stax opened, I was sifting through the “B” section (“Well, “All That I Wanted” is a good song, but a whole Belfegore album?!” Nah…), and in walked two guys wearing – and I am not embellishing here – long trench coats and fedoras. They flashed a badge at the manager, said a few things to her, then looked over: “Hey buddy, yer gonna have to take off for awhile.”

         Yup, fucking FBI guys, I shit you not. It was one of those mini-moments at the end of the ‘80s where major labels decided to throw a bone to “Cracking down on unlawful sale of promotional copies.” Read the stamps on those old things. It says some nonsense about those being the property of the label. (The labels never tell you that they write those promos off on their taxes, right after subtracting them from the artists’ future royalties.) The preponderance of bootlegs might’ve had something to do with the flat-foots storming the gates too, and maybe some grass passing through the back door. But who knows.

         Wax Stax only closed for about two weeks. Once reopened, it didn’t seem much different, though the scare worked, as there were never again as many promos or bootlegs in the racks. But the two new managers were really nice guys – one a tall, skinny, bespectacled collector geek; the other a black guy in tattoos and dreadlocks who was into Ministry – in Parma! Cool. (Yes, for about a month in my life I thought Ministry fans were sort of cool. Especially black ones. Hey, it was 1987!) Then about a year and a half after that, some really odd older drunk guy (or maybe a hop head – my inebriation radar wasn’t as well-calibrated back then) bought the place, added more t-shirts, posters, video games, cassingles, and those expensive CD things, and, well, you can see where this is going. The place sucked…and closed about a year later.

         But by then I was going back and forth to school at Ohio State University in Columbus, soon to move there permanently. And for my purposes, Wax Stax had done its job exceptionally well. My standards for a cool used record store had been diamond-cut, and as I toured the world with the New Bomb Turks, stopping first at every town’s indie record store, I could make like General Patton surveying the far hills.

         The other day I was scanning down my iTunes list. I didn’t feel like Patton.

         Come to think of it, Used Kids Records in Columbus, Ohio was probably the most important record store in my life. But that’s another story…which you can read about in my book, We Never Learn: The Gunk Punk Undergut, 1988-2001 (Backbeat Books).

[ink-herrscher]

into a mirror realm

— herrscher of sentience x fu hua

genre : fluff

warnings : none

wordcount : 1,407

summary : hua is a seasoned warrior, a spectacular soldier and a merciless killer. but this time, the new visitor from outside is a challenge she is far too unsuited to handle.

the newest visitor in the realm has been staring at hua for the last 15 minutes now.

she shuffles on her seat. tucks a stray piece of hair behind her ear. adjusts her glove. the lobby is quiet save for the low hum of engines and eden’s vinyl record faintly playing an old song in the background, and hua is painfully, painfully aware of the red eyes on her, watching her every movement like a camera taking snapshots.

it’s been years since she felt so embarrassed, and yet here she is, flustered at all the attention she’s getting.

this

is kind of awkward.

she peeks up at the visitor.

she’s an eye-catching one, that’s for sure. her hair is dark and silky, and falls down her shoulders like a misty waterfall, and atop her head, she wears a crown that winks in the low light. the magenta gem on her brow sparkles brightly.

she looks like hua, but at the same time, not.

when she first came in, the girl had introduced herself as “senti” and smiled a pretty, easy-going smile, but hua knew the truth as soon as she stepped inside the realm. this person is one of the most dangerous people on earth.

a herscherr. her sworn enemy.

but a herscherr stepping foot inside the realm isn’t unheard of. just a few months ago, the moths have had their first ever herscherr successor, and ever since then, hua has been trying to reconcile the friendly, gentle herscherr she had met with the angry, blood-thirsty ones from her memories and the archives.

but this one –

she’s special. hua just can’t put her finger on why.

her successor is still staring at her, though. it has been at least twenty minutes now. eden’s vinyl has stopped playing, and the silence in the lobby is just

so

awkward.

she coughs. those red eyes track her every movement.

hua should say something.

“um, miss senti –”

“just senti.”

right.

ahh. it’s so awkward. she's still staring and staring and not doing anything but stare, and hua feels so out of her zone. she almost can’t wait for her scheduled memory maintenance just so she can purge this day from her mind already.

“senti,” she corrects herself. “aren’t you going to explore the realm more? the portal is right over there.”

senti hums contemplatively. she’s curled up on the couch comfortably, chin resting on her arms, and hua is almost jealous at how at home she looks. “hmm. there’s no need. i already found what i was looking for here.”

here? hua looks around, but there is no one else in the lounge but them. even elysia herself had left her behind with a wink after seeing the herscherr so focused on her earlier, so she doesn’t have anyone to rely on for help at all.

oh!

“the remembrance vessels?” she perks up a bit. this one is familiar. she can guide her successor here. “you can light them up with kindling you can find around the realm to –”

“i wasn’t talking about that.” senti waves her hand, as if brushing off an annoying pest. her tone holds a tinge of annoyance, but her lips still hold the same pout she had while staring at hua earlier. “seriously, old timer. i knew you were dumb, but not this dumb.”

why did elysia leave again? she needs help.

senti groans. “it’s you. you’re the one i wanted to see. you, old timer, you. did you get that in your stupid head yet?”

oh.

there is a loose thread in the sofa. she pulls on it and pulls on it and absolutely refuses to look up at her successor. maybe her cheeks are red and heart is pounding, but it’s not every day that someone comes here specifically to see her, so she tries to give herself a pass here.

elysia. where is she.

it’s so awkward. hua doesn’t know if it’s her that’s making this awkward or not. senti doesn’t seem the least bit fazed at all – is it just her, then? she can’t stand this silence, but she doesn’t know what to say either. should she say “thank you”? ignore that remark? what should she do here? she’s used to answering any questions the successors may have, not starting the conversation herself.

“hey.” senti suddenly leans in close. too close. she leans back instinctively, but she is cornered between the arm rest and senti’s arms beside her. there’s nowhere to go. this close, she can see her eyes clearly.

oh. there is a kaleidoscope of colors within her irises. looking at her eyes is captivating, like watching a serene sunset sink beneath the depths of a ruby red sea. she can’t look away.

snap. hua jumps and blinks – there is a gloved hand waving and snapping at her. those red eyes look mildly annoyed, and suddenly, hua feels even more self-conscious than before.

“sorry,” she mumbles. she kind of wishes she could look at her eyes again, but she can’t bring herself to look at senti anymore. “um, what were you saying again?”

she sighs. years and years of war, and she’s stumped by simple socialization.

“i was asking if you were curious about me,” senti says impatiently. she has leaned away again and rests on the other side of the couch. hua finds herself regretfully looking at the space between them rather than sighing in relief. “like you know. i look like you and stuff. well?”

hua pauses. she is curious, but there is a familiar, mischievous glint in her successor’s eyes that she doesn’t trust. it is the same look in elysia’s eyes whenever she teases hua. she shivers.

“no thanks.”

senti pouts and crosses her arms over her chest. “boring as ever. hmph. and i even went out of my way to meet you, too.”

“sorry,” she says quietly.

“whatever.” senti rolls her eyes. “you know what? i’m gonna tell you anyway. i’m you from the future. surprise!”

hua sighs. she knew she would just be teasing her, too.

oh, wait. should she be acting surprised?

but senti has already seen the unimpressed look on her face before she can try to act surprised, and sniffs. “what, don’t believe me, old timer?”

frankly, no. it’s impossible, in the first place. hua would never become a herscherr.

that’s impossible.

but senti has been expecting a reaction. upon getting none, she huffs and pouts at hua. it’s kind of cute, but surreal. she is looking through a mirror, but her reflection is so . . . lively. and bright. and so

carefree.

her heart clenches. it must be nice. she looks so happy and content, unlike hua.

this is why she would never become her. because she is so happy, and hua has already forgotten how to smile years ago.

“can i ask you something?” she asks.

“shoot.”

“why do you keep referring to me as ‘old timer?’”

her successor shoots her a weird look. “because you’re an old timer, duh.” and then she pauses. “huh. i guess you’re not an old timer right now. young . . . timer? but that doesn’t sound good at all . . .”

she starts muttering incomprehensibly. hua shoots her a concerned glance, but if senti notices, she doesn’t mention it.

so

what does she do now?

the loose thread on the sofa is almost undone. she picks on it idly and apologies to eden for ruining her sofa in her mind. without senti running the conversation, she’s lost in the sea of awkwardness again.

finally, after a long minute, senti snaps her fingers. hua looks at her.

“i got it!” she says excitedly, pointing at hua. “from now on, you should call me senti-shījiě!”

“shī . . . jiě . . .” hua repeats. “um, okay?”

“that’s right.” her successor nods earnestly. “i have over 50,000 years of seniority over you, so you better treat me with respect, all right?”

her antics draw a small smile from her lips. “okay.”

senti beams at her, and then reaches out to pat her hair, and oh. hua bows her head. her cheeks are so very red.

“there you go,” senti says, oblivious. “good girl.”

she can feel her face warm up even more. she’s never been called a good girl before, and the little praise makes her want to curl up under a rock and hide in embarrassment. why is her heart fluttering so much?

elysia, she thinks desperately. please come back. she really, really needs help here.

[greatfallsrp]

NAME: Jessica Woolley GENDER & PRONOUNS: Cis Woman / She/Her AGE & DATE OF BIRTH: 30 years old / July 29th HOMETOWN: Salt Lake City, UT TIME IN GREAT FALLS: 8 months RESIDENCE: Downtown OCCUPATION: Unemployed

BACKSTORY —

trigger warning: religion, child birth ment, postnatal disorders, car accident, kidnapping ment.

She was born out of sheer faith, they say.  Her parents, both in their 40s, had spent the better part of two decades trying to have children  -  bearing them, fostering them, adopting them.  And then …  Jessica.  A simple name for a simple girl who would lead a simple, easy life.  This is all her parents wanted for her.

So they always had enough, but never too much.  Enough money for the mortgage, for school lunches, saturday morning movies, soccer cleats, the yearly team trip down to st. george in the dead, dead of winter.  They had enough food for the table, for food storage, to share with neighbors in need, and to donate as their bishop asked of them.  They did not have a trampoline.  They did not have a pool.  In fact, they barely had a backyard, although her dad firmly believed that the entire state of Utah was their backyard.  Five national parks, you know, and just a few hours’ drive in any direction.

She had friends for miles, too.  Friends and best friends and people who saved her a seat at football games or shared answers to a test she’d definitely, absolutely unintentionally missed.  Boyfriends had to wait until 16, that magic age when a young woman turned into an almost, not-quite woman.  Close enough, their rationale.  The better to keep them uncurious and close to home.

And so she fell in love.  Just once, but it was enough, she knew, to last a lifetime;  this perpetual percussion of and then, and then, and then beating out in her chest for weeks, years, until papers were signed and she made promises to god she was pretty sure she wanted to keep.  School took the back burner.  She never followed through.  Married at 19 and she bore, birthed a son not long after.  They almost shared a birthday, she and her newborn boy, and she could do little else but cling to him like a little life raft for weeks, years.  What if, what if, what if …

After a traumatic birth and a long battle with baby blues, she wasn’t apt or inclined to do it twice.  But years had come and gone, and her husband had slowly shifted from sympathetic to impatient.  He’d always wanted a big family.  She thought she had, too.  One more, she rationalized, steeling herself as he hugged her, held her, made promises he swore he would keep.  And some of them he did.  But this time around, baby blues just wasn’t the word for it.  Depressed.  Frantic.  Bitter.  Paranoid.  All at once, sometimes, when the balance struck just right.  

And there was the car accident.  No one’s fault but her own, Exhaustion and false self-confidence festering in the gut of her mania.  No fatalities.  No children in either car.  Only an insurance suit and something wrong with her back to show for it  -  so why wouldn't the women at church let it go?  All that staring, whispering, and eluding.  Holding her arm tight across her chest, the vinyl sling digging into her shoulder, her husband held onto their children and left her to wonder.  Believe.  Assume.  Paranoia itched at the inside of her skull.  They were out to get her.  No one believed her.

So she put her boys in the car, still warm and thick with sleep.  She bought two oranges at the 7-11.  Filled up on gas.  Hopped on I-15 and took it as far north as she remembered.  A 30 year old runaway, Montana seemed as good a place as any to catch her breath.  To be tracked down in under 24 hours.  To be accused of kidnapping and to have her children turned over to their dad’s custody.  It was in the local paper.  She refused to leave her motel room for days.

But …  she didn't go back.  Even in the face of utter chaos, that undying embarrassment, the fresh, fresh air of great falls has soothed that itch on her brain by the weekend.  She stretched her legs.  Said hello to a horse tied up outside the general store  -  how funny, she thought, and gave a barely-there smile.  But that’s the north for you.

8 months and she’s feeling better than she has in 15 years.  But her husband, still her husband, has been leaving phone calls.  Love, begging.  Come home, he says.  Soon, she says, but means to say, where is home?  Only her boys come to mind, now 8 months older than she remembers them.  Too old.  Too long.  She’s running out of time.

Portrayed by PRISCILLA QUINTANA, written by MEG.

[musiconanironingboard]

8 April 2023: Doctor Moan, Peter Case. (Sunset Blvd, 2023)

I was too young to follow Peter Case in real time when he was part of The Nerves, I didn't pick up on his later band The Plimsouls when they were happening (though I believe my brother had an album by them), but I did get hip to his 1986 solo debut Peter Case, an album I loved at the time and still adore. He'd reinvented himself as a folk singer-songwriter, and that's the milieu where he still remains. Doctor Moan is his latest album, roughly his fourteenth by my count, and it's the second new one he's done since I started following him again after many years of indifference.

Despite loving that solo debut, I was 14 when I bought it and income was not predictable, so for whatever reason I didn't buy the follow-up. In college, courtesy of the university radio station where I worked, I got to hear his third and fourth albums; that fourth one, Sings Like Hell, I found tremendously good, but again I didn't obtain my own copy, instead waiting another nearly 15 years until I saw a used copy in Fort Lauderdale on a business trip. Even after that I ignored Case's career progress until I stumbled upon a basically new vinyl copy of his 2015 album HWY 62 in a used bin for pennies on the dollar. I got that and have come full circle wanting to hear everything Case has released. I've acquired a good chunk of his back catalog with the intention of doing a catalog study, which I may or may not begin here in a few weeks (my listening projects are always subject to great whims), but I'll do it eventually.

I really liked Case's 2021 album The Midnight Broadcast; it made my Top 25 Albums list that year, but I like Doctor Moan even more. It's a fine, fine album. As I sink deeper into the catalogs of artists like Case (and there are many more) I get farther away from the pulsebeat of musical development and even farther away from any young people in my life wanting to inherit my collection ("Hey kid, want fifteen Peter Case albums?"), but ultimately that's not the point. If I can repose with records like Doctor Moan, it makes life better in the now.

I can be format agnostic, but the inconsistency of format availability can be irritating at times. I bought The Midnight Broadcast on vinyl because there was no CD, and now here with Doctor Moan it was the reverse—upon release it was CD only. When you are an independent artist, you may bounce from small label to small label and they all do things differently.

Above are the front and back covers.

Below is the opened digipak.

Last, here is the CD itself.