#i lost track of what numbered thread we are on :

[elysiium]

& 𝐑𝐄.  AURALINE & LEOPOLD WAYNE / @violentdesires

COME WHAT MAY . it was a vow leopold and auraline made to each all those years ago — when she was just a simple girl and he her guardian . when the world was such a perfect place and all they had were each other . a vow never forgotten even as the seasons changed ( winter to spring , autumn to summer ) . as storm clouds gathered , a river wide separating them for a time . even then their love never died . it never would . not even with the end of time . and it did take time for them to get where they are now . by each other's side once again , everything revolving around each other as it was meant to be . yet even after all this time , she never knew that it could feel like this — like she's never seen the sky before . not until she watches her warlock climb those steps , each one closer to her , his eyes bright like the glowing moon . as he stands by her side in front of her court , taking her hand in his , making that same vow . come what may . not just for her , but to her people . to be their king . the king that they need . the king they deserve . her heart sings to him and she knows he can hear it : telling him that she is giving him everything . everything that she is — from that simple girl she use to be to the queen she is now . the tears in her golden eyes reflect back every single memory that took them to where they are now — the good and the bad , and all the good that has yet to come . and when their lips meet , the stars collide overhead ; she vanishes in his kiss , sealing their vow once again . come what may .

with crowns on both heads , they turn to the crowd , standing together . and auraline knows that the greatest thing she'll ever learn is this : to love and be loved in return . together , they are stronger . singing out their song . come what may . and their love , their vow , will strength her court . their court . the celebration that follows moves with such perfect grace — leopold spinning her in his arms , over and over again , the two dancing among their fae until she's dizzy with ' i love yous ' and come what mays and she's out of breathe . she pulls him away from the crowd , feet still dancing as she leads him out of the room and into another — an empty balcony away from prying eyes ( guards standing at the entrance , doors closed to give them privacy , a moment finally alone ) . her cheeks are flushed as she looks to her king , hand still in his . ❛ so how does it feel ? having all of this as yours ? ❜ she asks , free arm gesturing out to their land below them , trees and the hidden creatures in them spanning till where green meets the night sky .

[un-love]

drunk voicemails with svt (part 2)

a/n: after 11 months, it's completed lol. i'm sorry for taking so long, i'm terrible at this writing thing

find part 1 here

♡॒ dokyeom

i keep thinking about that night. all the things you said, the things i said. the hurt in your eyes. i wish i had reached a hand out to wipe your tears. i wish i could go back and tell myself to stop avoiding my feelings under the pretence of giving you space. but i can't. the only thing left to do now is wonder. and drink. in that order. to wonder if there's a chance that you didn't mean it. if it breaks your heart as much as it breaks mine. if your days are as miserable as mine, or if you've moved on. does it make me a terrible person to hope you feel incomplete without me? your side of the bed is still unslept on, your clothes still living in my closet. you're still here, so why won't you talk to me? i'm starting to lose track of the voice mails i've left you, i'm sorry

♡॒ mingyu

oh hey. this went straight to voicemail...i know we just parted ways but i miss you. we're still at the bar and if i don't say this now, i never will. i spent half the night looking at you, i know you knew. you looked beautiful. i should be feeling embarrassed or something but the liquor has washed away the shame. i can't leave this unsaid anymore. okay? it hurts to go through the same motions everyday. i don't want to spend my days wishing cheol invites you to dinner every evening. i don't want to steal quick glances at you just because i'm afraid you'll disappear if i look away. don't wanna see you in anyone's arms but mine. want to walk you home without being worried about what you think of me. but you already know this, don't you? you've always been able to look right through me. you probably think i've said too much, but i swear, nothing i say will ever come close enough to how i feel about you. i almost want to take it back, but i won't. not tonight.

♡॒ minghao

i think of you when i'm sitting down to eat, when my friends buy mint chocolate ice cream or when i see the shirt you gifted me discarded in the back of my closet. the sunset was three different shades of pink last saturday and i almost sent you a picture. can you come back to me? the winter chill has permanently made a home in my bones and i'm lost without your touch. the threads of sanity i'm hanging on by are worn out now. my best friend is giving me a look that says he wants to leap across the bar and snatch my phone, but i don't care. i want to make it right. call me please.

♡॒ seungkwan

you were right. i'm not okay...i'm doing terribly. *laughs* nothing is okay. it hurts everywhere. it hurts when i close my eyes, it hurts when i take a breath and it hurts when i think about how i've pushed away everyone who wanted to help me. i keep having this dream where you refuse to let go of my hand. i'm cold. everything around me is crumbling and i think it's my fault. i can't say that i don't deserve this, but i need you now. will you come to me? will you come and hold my hand?

♡॒ vernon

i have been meaning to ask you this. i- yeah. you remember that dress you have? the long black one with sequins all over it? you look so beautiful in that. AND when you put up your hair and i can see your pretty face? stunning. why is it so hard for me to say these things to your face, dammit? it's all true. i wanted to tell you this before we— well the reason i'm calling is because i wanted to ask you to be my date to the wedding. and no, no that's not the only reason why i'm telling you how beautiful you are. it's one of the reasons. the other one is that i'm drunk! you're gorgeous, angelic even. and you still will be tomorrow, when i'm sober. so you know, back to the fact that i need a date. i mean i need You to be my date. i would love that. so ... call me back, yeah? is it odd that i already imagined how you would look on my arm in that dress? probably. i'm hanging up now-

♡॒ chan

i'm looking at the clock ticking and the numbers are blurry but the only thing on my mind is that your flight is in six hours. and then in another twelve hours you'll be in my arms. you and me. it's always been you, you know? the thought of us not having to be apart ever again is making me crazy, i'm sorry. i'm not jinxing it, right? god. the first thing we're doing is going down to my favourite ice cream place!!! i'll drive you back home and to work everyday. and when you put your hand against mine, it'll be soft. it won't be cold, hard glass anymore. can you fucking believe that? it's going to be incredible. come to me soon.

[mage-ical-character-person]

You know I was wondering what the heck the Vees thought they were talking about when they mention a power vacuum in their bit of the song in The Show Must Go On. Like what are these idiots hoping to accomplish?

and I just now realized.

They say “Overlords hanging by a thread”. “Overlords” plural. Which is weird, because that would mean they’re not just talking about Alastor, but the battle was entirely focused on the hotel.

The only other Overlords even slightly involved are Rosie and Carmilla. So let’s take a look at that for a second! Both of them put a lot of resources into the battle, even if they weren’t present for it themselves.

First of all: Rosie

Rosie’s entire population was sent to the battle. When she’s talking to Charlie before Charlie’s first attempt at her speech, Rosie says

“I can’t exactly command all of Cannibal Town to follow someone else into battle”

“This group sticks together, so in order to convince any of them, you’ll need to convince all of them”

So it seems pretty clearly implied that all of Rosie’s Cannibals were sent into battle. We know that some of them perished, and more were probably injured, which would probably leave Rosie at least a little vulnerable. We don’t know exactly how many Cannibals were lost, and saying she’s “hanging by a thread” seems like a stretch, but the event likely did set her back, and her Cannibals will need time to recover.

I do also feel like the fact that they all ate angel meat will have some sort of effect. Not sure what kind, but angel blood glows and it seems like there would be some weird properties there. Not sure if it’s good or bad.

Either way, Rosie loosing some of her Cannibals would leave her more vulnerable than usual after the battle, even if only slightly. And her association with Alastor means Vox probably has beef with her, so it makes some sense for the Vees to see this as an opening, especially coupled with Alastor being injured and, at the time, missing. He wouldn’t be able to provide Rosie with much backup in that state. (Alastor’s back now and pretending to be fine but I doubt that.) Having both of them in a weakened state at the same time is probably unheard of.

And with how weird Vox is about Alastor, targeting Rosie to mess with him is something I could see happening. I don’t know if that would go well for the Vees, because we haven’t seen what Rosie is capable of, and we haven’t seen much of what Vox is really capable of when facing off against anyone other than Alastor, who has a talent for making Vox act stupider than usual.

Then we have Carmilla, and her case is very interesting, because while she only provided weapons for the battle, that’s still a big investment of resources. Angelic steel is very, very hard to come by in hell, and she provided quite a lot of weapons. While she’ll probably get a good number of them back, there’s a bigger issue here.

Carmilla’s business and by extension her status as an Overlord relies on selling weapons made with angelic steel. Carmilla gets angelic steel from weapons left behind during exterminations.

and uh

Yeah I’m not sure how that’s gonna go for her. Cause it seems like her supply of the materials she needs to stay in her position of power just got cut off completely. Especially since Heaven now knows that leaving behind weapons is what provides the only method of killing angels. After Adam’s death I really don’t think they’re making that mistake again.

So Carmilla seems to be on a track that leads to her power dwindling as she runs out of resources. Sure, she can just work in dealing normal weapons with high craftsmanship, but without her claim to fame of selling weapons that can permanently kill, she will lose a lot of power and influence.

I’m sure Velvette will enjoy that.

Overall, though, while I still think the Vees are dumb and impulsive and biting off more than they can chew… their part of the Finale song makes just a little more sense to me now. Three Overlords in weakened states might leave them some sort of opening.

They really shouldn’t mess with Alastor, though, because not only does Vox lose all logical thought around him, but Charlie considers Alastor a friend by this point. And she is the Princess of Hell, and very protective of her friends. Though she probably wouldn’t hurt the Vees unless she absolutely had to. She’s definitely not a fighter except in extreme circumstances. Katie Killjoy notwithstanding.

[scuderiafemboy]

f1 lestappen database nini edition

notes: number 1) this can get outdated super easily… number 2) i also dont know how to link content as i dont use tumblr alot but upon request im remaking my twitter thread here number 3) im not putting the races in chronological order as im quite lazy

at the 2019 japanese gp, max and charles hit eachother into turn two.

max after the race on the crash:

“i just dont get it. there was no need to risk so much in turn two. cause at the end of the day, both of us had to pit.”

2019 austrian gp, 3 laps left into the race max overtook charles and won the grandprix.

charles at the postrace pressconference:

“as i said, ive done exactly the same thing from the first and the second lap so i didnt expect any contact on the second lap. as max said, i think he braked a little bit deeper. i dont know if he lost it or not but then there was the contact. i felt like i was quite strong in traction. on the first attempt i managed to have better traction and have my position. on the second one i couldnt do that cause i was off track.”

2019 silverstone gp, the race right after austria. max and charles closely battled for 10 laps straight

charles during the postrace press conference:

“the best move was probably the one on max, on the outside in copse, i think he just passed me and i passed him back around the outside of copse. i think that was definitely was one of the most exciting (moves) of the race… of my race!”

2020 sakhir gp, charles crashed into checo, forcing max to go wide and then also crash

max post race:

“i respect charles alot, hes a great driver but i think today was a bit too much. he asked me “what happened?” and i say “what do you mean “what happened” you crashed into sergio and i have to go around”. i think he will look back at the footage and i hope he will understand that that was maybe a bit too aggressive. which is a shame.”

charles on the beyond the grid podcast 2021, talking about his rivalry with max:

“its the same (their rivalry) at the moment its obviously a little bit deminished because i can not fight against him, unfortunately. but if you look at the fight in silverstone 2019, i think you can understand theres quite a bit of competition and its always been the case. i mean its nice; we have grown up together in karting weve been always fighting eachother and now we find ourselves again in formula 1. so its great and i cant wait to put the team back were it deserves to be and fight against max for the title.”

monaco gp 2021, during Q3 charles crashes which means max cant set a laptime

max postrace interview:

“he just clipped the wall initially and ended up where ive ended up twice [laughs] so its just unfortunate. ofcourse i am disappointed not to have a shot at pole but thats life, you know. sometimes you cant do it. i mean its fine, i dont think his lap should be deleted in the future if they want to make rule changes. i dont that would be fair.”

charles instagram post after the 2021 silverstone gp yes i am counting it too:

max saying he prefers his rivalry with charles over the one he has with lewis, 2022

max to sky italy:

"i prefer what we have now because, first of all, charles i know very well, hes a nice guy, we are a similar age… on saturday night, we even had a laugh in paul ricard... we are hard competitors on the track and we will always try to beat each other, which i think is very normal, but outside of it you can have a good time as well, and thats what i really enjoy about this year."

max debunking that charles never forgave him for austria 2019 and racing together with him, 2022

max in a video interview:

"i never speak about these things with other drivers, i mean, it happens. ive lost wins as well, and its not the end of the world, you move on. i think charles is one of the most talented drivers in formula 1, and he will win many more races… i would say back in the day it was a little bit more difficult, but also we were very young and growing up and you are fighting for the same goal, right? now that youre in formula 1, i think it is really different. you are representing really big brands. so we get on very well now. we can have a good chat and enjoy our battles, and i think thats very nice. knowing each other for such a long time helps. weve spent so much time together, in a way."

2022 hungarian gp, max told the hungarian press he understands charles his frustration after the 2022 french gp

max to the hungarian press:

“everyone handles that (their disappointment) in a different way. some people need to reflect on it like that. at the time youre still a bit emotional from what just happened and maybe become a bit too emotional, but thats fine, people should be emotional, they should show their emotions."

charles on fighting with italian site corriere della sera, 2022 this is not an official translation sorry but i can link the source

charles:

“i like to deal with max, we have a similar level of aggression. we have fun, with respect. im not saying that last year there was no respect between max and lewis, but it seemed like a different duel than ours. but if we were to get to the end of the championship very close in points, the situation would be much more tense than it is now.”

max, also for corriere della sera in 2022

max:

“i have known charles since we were five years old, we are of the same generation and we grew up challenging ourselves on the track.”

max to viaplay, 2023 after charles crashed during Q3 of the miami gp, meaning he couldnt set a time and had to start from P8 (this is a livetranslation of mine post qualifying, so the quote isnt 100% spot on but you get the gist)

max:

“the red flag was annoying, but it happens on streetcircuits. it just sucks, i will have to cope and move on.”

monaco gp, charles had an interview with canal+ for its 10 year anniversary with formula 1. he got asked to name 10 drivers hes the closest with

charles:

“pierre without a doubt, carlos, lando, george, alex albon, yuki, lewis, max aswell eventhough most people dont think its the case but it is! esteban, and lance.”

this is it for now, i am a bit tired but thank the tumblr lords you can change posts later on so i can update it with ease later on. enjoys besties 🫡

[addledmongoose]

WIP Wednesday

I'm not going to do one of these very often since it would just be the same stories over and over, but I do read a small number of WIPs as they're updated, and since I don't recommend stories on my Friday threads until they're 90% or more done (and with the belief they'll be finished), I wanted to call out a number of WIPs that are worth keeping track of.

A.Z. Fell & Co: The Yelp Chronicles (38K; Ch 15/?; Rated T)

Funny outsider POVs for the bookshop. Besides Yelp reviews and comments, there's an entire transcript of a Youtube series by a cryptid hunter. The voices are spot-on and hilarious. You'll want to read this with the workskin on if at all possible.

***

And I Did (23K; Ch 5/13; Rated E) by @di-42

Post-S2. Aziraphale is the Supreme Archangel. Crowley is the new Grand Duke of Hell. They have to stop the Second Coming, but their sides are still suspicious of them, and they aren't talking.

***

End of the road (71K; Ch 13/?; Rated M) by @ochre-sunflower

Human(ish) AU. Aziraphale has left the city to become a small town librarian when he gets trapped in a town controlled by a mysterious, red-haired creature, and no one will tell him what's going on. This story is super tense and exciting, and I can't wait to find out what's really going on.

***

The Last Angel (102K; Ch 23/30; Rated E) by @bellisima-writes

An AU where Crowley has always been Hell's Grand Inquisitor and neither of them were ever their side's representatives on Earth. And during the apocalypse, Adam destroyed the world, and the angels lost. The last angel (Aziraphale) has just been captured, and it's Crowley's job to unlock his secrets.

There is so much more going on in this story, and it'll keep you on the edge of your seat.

***

Scorn and the Saint-Maker (42K; Ch 11/45; Rated E) by @e-rated-beardo

Part murder mystery. Part "who turned them human" mystery. Part romance. Doctors Crowley and Fell work at a university. They seem to have a strange, immediate connection the first time they meet, even though they don't really understand why. The mystery of what's going on will have you eager for each weekly update.

***

we shall have the world forever for our own (33K; Ch 5/7; Rated M) by @quitequaintrelle

They move to a cottage in the South Downs, and let's just say they don't always get along perfectly with their new neighbors. A very funny series of events in the lives of the two retired supernatural beings.

[bengiyo]

I Feel You Linger in the Air Ep 11 Stray Thoughts

Last time, Jom, his friends, and their allies teamed up to expose Dech and Robert and their cruelest abuses. We then spent most of the episode wrapping up a lot of plot threads. Most everyone has either moved on or is okay for now. Maey is back with Euangphueng, Ming is fine, the mom is rebelling in her own way, etc. Yai is going to France and expects Jom to stay here and wait for him, which made me immediately dissociate. Also, Jom's starting to disappear in images and mirrors and we don't know why.

I like that Yai is skeptical, but can comprehend some of what Jom is saying about himself. Yai may not be good at practical things, but he's a thinker.

Nonkul is really good, and you can feel the complex emotions coming off of Jom as he can finally talk about what he's been experiencing openly.

Okay, Bright has cake.

This is the same team that had a woman give birth, with her jeans on, in the back of a truck earlier this year. I hope they handle this pregnancy plot better.

Why does the subber keep adding Khun to Euangphueng's name when Maey doesn't say it, but doesn't add it to Yai's name when Jom usually says it?

Okay, I really like them articulating the long-term pain and suffering Euangphueng is dreading.

That Fong Kaew scene with Khamsaen was so good. She's worrying about EP and he's convinced himself that Robert didn't touch her, but we know the implications of him making her bleed when he does himself on her.

Bright and Nonkul are so good together. There was no dialogue in this soft montage of Jom redoing the drawings, but you could feel the wistfulness that Jom might disappear at any moment. It's not easy for some pairs to do the 'being together' part really well, but these two are hitting that beautifully. Now that the stresses have been removed, they are clearly in love and a team.

I really love the relationship that has formed between Fong Kaew and Euangphueng. EP is making a very difficult decision and I like the way Fong Kaew's supporting her. It's also interesting to see Maey worry about the karma of getting an abortion as a reason to raise the child.

Yai is reading The Time Machine by H.G. Wells!!!

Not that the monk is wrong about them having no control over this phenomenon, but they could also maybe keep track of the rate at which Jom's reflection is vanishing and see if they could predict the number of days.

There is a melancholy hanging over this that works so well, because Jom basically has a terminal condition that will strike at any moment and permanently end this relationship.

Poor Ming. He's losing all of his friends.

Wow, this farewell party reminds me of the stories shared with me about someone getting an AIDS diagnosis before we had anything resembling effective treatment. Throwing a party before their health plummets to say goodbye.

And now they're dancing as everyone reminisces. I'm just gonna cry thanks.

Jom isn't going to be in this photo and we're all gonna be sad.

Okay, the letter broke me. How many queer lives have been lost to time because we couldn't preserve their stories. I am so invested in this letter now.

If Jom vanishes after he reads this letter I will be crushed.

They ended the episode on the almost faded photo!!!!!

I feel so heavy after that episode. Nonkul and Bright really did the damn thing this week. You can feel the ache the entire time. That party was one of the most beautiful things I've experienced in genre in a while. This show is really special.

[violettduchess]

"Aere Perennius" 🌟

A/N: I have long admired @ana-thedaydreamer and her beautiful artwork. I am so excited to finally be able to share what we have been working on together! Ana, you are a talent beyond measure and I was overjoyed at the chance to collaborate with you, especially on something honoring our favorite vamp 💜Thank you for your hard work, your time, and your support.

"Aere Perennius" is Latin for, "More lasting than bronze"

Leonardo - Holiday Fluff

Word Count: 1221

---🌟---

There are many things to love about the holiday season, but one tradition that never fails to brighten my spirit like a string of fairy lights in the dark are the Christmas markets. The booths are a feast for the eyes, endless degrees of craftsmanship on display in the form of bright, homemade candles, intricate wooden toys and puzzles, beautiful stained glass decorations, knitted wonders of all shapes and sizes. The smell of mulled wine and hot chocolate mixes with the scent of candied almonds, roasted meat, and gingerbread. Even the crowds are a part of it, the voices calling for small children to stay close, the greetings called across people’s heads to one another, the couples cuddling close together, warm and snug under the twinkling lights.

This is where I am right now, tucked up against Leonardo’s side as I observe the crowds from a cozy corner of the market, right next to the stand that claims it has the best mulled wine in all of Paris (with a recipe straight from Germany, I note with a wry grin). One long arm is wrapped around my waist, holding me close. The other lifts his mug of wine to his lips as he people-watches with me. The woman who runs the stand watches us both, bright-eyed, offering to refill our mugs the moment they are empty. Starting right from the first empty mug, she was so insistent with her benevolent pouring, I decided to keep holding mine close as if there were still something inside but Leonardo….he has been taking her up on her offers, tossing coins whose number grows more and more generous with every refill. 

He’s nearly got a handful of them now when I realize I've been so lost in watching the bustle of the market that I haven’t been keeping track of how long we've been standing there. And how many refills he’s had. It’s too hard to see his face clearly in the shadowy corner we're standing in but there is a laxness to his body, a looseness in his stance that catches my attention. 

Perhaps it's time to get a move on.

“It’s getting late,” I say as I gently extract the empty mug from his hand and set it down on the wooden counter. 

He looks somewhat startled at having to say goodbye what feels to him like so soon but I tug on his arm, leading him away. “Thank you Madame, it was delicious!” he calls back towards the stand. The woman behind the counter looks as sad as he does, waving goodbye despondently, sad little Christmas dishrag in her hand. I steer him through the crowd, toward the end of the market. He is hailed by so many people who know and admire him: the watchmaker lifts a mug of beer in salutation, the music teacher calls his name with a vibrant “Yoo hoo!”, the bookstore owner nods respectfully. He is such a part of the fabric of this community, the brilliant golden thread that runs through it, brightening everything.

The lights and sounds and smells of the market give way to a dark winter sky littered with bright stars and the cool calm of night time. Arm in arm, we walk. His strides are slower than usual, his eyes bright, cheeks tinged pink with wine. We take a turn, strolling down one of the main streets with displays in the windows. When we reach the toy store, he suddenly stops.

“Cara mia….wait a moment…” He stands in front of the window where tiny lights illuminate the various toys: a shiny train set with a big black engine, the porcelain dolls with their curls and big round eyes, tin soldiers marching in a row. But what has his attention is the model hot air balloon hanging from a string, floating above the other toys. He raises one hand, pressing it against the cool glass. “Stupendo,” he sighs, almost longingly. I smile softly as I place a gloved hand on his lower back. It is well-documented how fascinated Leonardo Da Vinci has always been with the idea of man and flight. Notebooks full of his theoretical drawings of various contraptions and machines can be found in museums all over the world.

“It happens, you know. America, 1903. They invent a flying machine that becomes the basis for air travel.” My voice is as soft as the glow of the lights through the window, my eyes on his face as he stares at the toy balloon. 

He doesn’t answer. Instead he pulls his far-away gaze from the shop window and turns his full attention to me. 

A lock of hair falls across his forehead, his cheeks are still tinged pink. He looks young, boyish. Almost vulnerable. The mask of the cool, eternal vampire sloughed off with every sip and now all I see in the warm light is a man whose expression is filled to the brim with tenderness. He reaches out, his soft leather glove brushing the skin of my cheek.

“Who needs to dream of the sky,” he murmurs in a voice as soft as the silver starlight overhead, “when I can look at you and see the face of heaven?”

It seems the wine, the starlight, the remembrance of dreams has brought out the poet in the man I love. His words fill my heart, lifting it like heat does a hot air balloon. Now my cheeks are flushed and it has nothing to do with any drink. 

I drop my gaze, a sudden shyness overwhelming me until he catches my chin between his fingers, tilting my face back up. I thought the lights in the window or the stars in the sky were luminous. They pale in comparison to the radiance of his golden eyes.

“C’mere,” he whispers, his free arm pulling me toward him, holding my chin as he lowers his mouth to mine. I can taste the echoing flavors of the mulled wine, the cinnamon and nutmeg and cloves as well as the faintest whisper of smoke from his cigarillos. Here in his arms, there is only the present. His dreams in the past, the uncertainty of the future fade with every movement of his lips, every sigh, every touch. If I have learned anything from loving this man, it is the need to live in the right here, right now. Even this moment, an embrace under a dazzling winter sky on an empty Parisian street will end. And somewhere in the future, there will be airplanes. And rockets. And the eternal vampire will experience it all. 

Without me.

But I believe it is moments like this one, as I wrap my arms around his shoulders and return his kiss with all the love in the world, that will capture a hallowed place in his eternity and light his heart when shadows dare creep near.

The kiss comes to an end, yet he does not move away. Maybe he’s dizzy with wine and needs to be still for a moment. Maybe he does not want to lose the closeness we share. Either way, he doesn’t step back but instead presses his forehead against mine, eyes closed.

“I love you.”

I breathe out, a hand stroking the back of his neck. 

“I love you too, Leonardo. Always.”

-----

Tagging: @aquagirl1978 @alixennial @alexxavicry @queengiuliettafirstlady @rhodolitesrose @ikemen-prince-writers-posts @bellerose-arcana @thewitchofbooks @redheadkittys @dear-mrs-otome @firestar-otomeobsessed @curious-skybunny @leotoru @kpop-and-otome @writingwhimsey @mxrmaid-poet @silver-dahlia @wendolrea @otomefoxystar @neoqueen-sailorvirgo @myonlyjknight @kissmetwicekissmedeadly

[weneverlearn]

From The Distillery to Eternity: A Tale of Lost Recording Tapes, Found on eBay

Red Aunts / Two Tears guitarist/singer Kerry Smith was just putzing around eBay when she saw a tape she made 20+ years ago which was being sold by some rando -- along with lots of tapes by other regional L.A. trash rock acts. A facebook post about it, copious comments, and a surprise good samaritan followed.

KERRY SMITH rockin' with the Red Aunts at a club near The Distillery studio, sometime in 1993.

---------------------------------------------

As we all regularly ponder what the hell social media is good for, a major piece of proof for the answer of “Nothing” are the comments sections on Facebook. The vitriol and vague “arguments” that can ensue (should you actually still use Facebook) get stupid and depressing very quickly.

But for every 100 like that, there are posts that actually conjure up a stable discussion, interesting connections, and maybe even some useful info.

Case in point, a recent post from Kerry Smith – Red Aunts and Two Tears guitarist/singer and all-around hilarious, life-affirming gal.

Essentially, she came across an eBay listing that was selling off a studio reel tape of an original master recording she made in 2000. After Kerry’s FB post, a number of people clicked on the link and a few realized their own tapes or someone they knew were also listed for sale.

I contacted Kerry about the situation:

“I recorded a bunch of songs there hoping to put them out as the first Two Tears record," said Kerry. "Lesley (Ishino, Red Aunts) and Danny Hole (Necessary Evils) played some drums, and I played everything else. I forgot about this all until this post was brought to my attention, and I feel sad, angry, violated, ripped off. I demo’d them all on my 4-track and worked hard in that studio. I paid for it all myself, no label help. Lots of people offered to buy them for me, and someone thought they were doing a good deed and bought it, though I had the post taken down. I don’t know why it bothers me so much, until Gar wrote from SD saying it’s an intimate and personal experience, and he said do you feel like you’ve been audio art raped? And I do."

---------------------------------------

One of the commenters on Kerry’s post was Larry Hardy – head of In The Red Records, the legendary garage rock indie label from L.A. He added a few shocked comments, which led to a comment thread discussion of legality, ownership, old stories, etc.

Given how many bands Hardy has worked with and albums he's released, I thought he’d be one to dig into this strange, ephemeral side of life as a recording musician…

Here's a Two Tears song from that era, though not recorded at The Distillery:

So how did you first hear about this? I assume you saw Kerry's post…

LH: Yes, that’s when I first heard about this. I recognized the writing on the PQ sheets and could tell the tape originated from a recording studio called The Distillery in Costa Mesa, which is where a lot of In The Red records were recorded. I checked the eBay seller’s other auctions and discovered a number of my reels were being sold too. 

When you first saw Kerry's post, what was your first kind of emotional response?

LH: My first response was I knew exactly where the tapes came from. A few years ago another person posted a photo of some master tapes he had saying he was trying to find the bands. One of the bands was the Strange Boys, and they contacted me and said the guy had a bunch of ITR masters. I got a hold of the guy and told him my connection to the tapes, and he said he’d gotten the them from Mike McHugh and had been holding them for him, but Mike had gone AWOL. I never did get the tapes back from this guy.

Can you tell me about Mike McHugh and The Distillery, and how tapes from there might’ve ended up in this eBay seller’s possession?

LH: Yeah, [the studio] was owned and operated by Mike McHugh. He was a brilliant engineer with really good gear – the mixing board came from Muscle Shoals! And he was really down to do weird, unconventional things in the studio. He also actually liked the music. He was my go-to guy for many years. Unfortunately a combination of mental illness and substance abuse got the best of him, and he went downhill really fast and REALLY bad. One of the last sessions I had there was for the band Cheap Time, and he flipped out in the middle of the session and pulled a gun on them!

Anyway, he wound up losing his studio, and we had all the tapes still in there. Lots of other bands kept their tapes there too. I know a number of people tried to help him and tried to save all his gear but, sadly, he was beyond help. I guess a bunch of the stuff from the studio wound up in a storage locker and the bill didn’t get paid – so it all went up for auction. That’s how the guy who is selling them on eBay came into possession of them.

Are the things he's posting for sale original sessions or mastered reels?

LH: The reels being sold are the two-inch master reels. The bands would track on two-inch tape and then mix down to half-inch tape and the record would be mastered from that. Many times we would only take the mixed tape with us as that was what we’d master the record from. The studio had a room where they stored tapes, so we figured we’d leave the two-inch reels there for safe keeping.

In a way, the fact that these are original master tapes, pre-mixed/mastered tapes is even worse. These are unmixed tracks, right? 

LH: Correct. These tapes being sold are the basic tracks on two-inch tape. You could take these to a studio and remix the record with them. We would mix down to half-inch tape so the versions on those are what you hear on the record. Mastering is a separate step done in a mastering lab. This is why once the mixing was done you kind of felt like the two-inch tapes were done too. They already served their purpose.

Yeah, we all sort of leave things in the rearview mirror once the album comes out, as far as where recordings and master tapes end up.

LH: Yeah, some bands are really good about keeping track of their tapes, and some don’t really care. I know the Cramps kept all of their master tapes, but I don’t think most bands do that. I do still have a bunch of master tapes here at my house. I imagine a lot of people took their tapes with them when their session was done. They’re expensive. I did sometimes, but I was at this studio so often I just figured they were fine where they were… until they weren’t. I didn’t have any place to store them at my house anyway. Two-inch tapes take up a lot of room.

Beyond that particular story, when bands record in studios there is a kind of “gentleman's agreement” – especially amongst indie labels and smaller studios – to at least let the bands or labels know they've got their tapes before just selling them off or tossing them, right? My understanding is, if you paid the studio their fee and paid for the actual tapes, they are your's. Though I suppose if they've been sitting in a studio’s closet for 20 years, maybe there's an argument for ownership on the studio's end?

LH: We did have a general understanding when we left the tapes behind that they’d be looked after by Mike. There was also a window of time when I could’ve gone down there and gotten them all; and I didn’t want to deal with him so I just kind of let it go. The only use they would be is if you wanted to remix the record, which I guess is something that could come up.

After leaving them behind that long ago it makes sense they could end up almost anywhere. Now you have a guy selling them on eBay who doesn’t even know who the bands are.

Under Kerry's post, a person commented: "No judgement! But you own the IP [intellectual property] on these tapes as they are independent recordings. You should reach out to the seller!" Is he right?

LH: That’s true. The eBay seller rightfully owns those tapes, but neither he or anyone else who buys them can do anything with the music without the artist’s permission…. Unfortunately this guy did buy them fair and square. I’m sure Kerry paid for that tape and the recording session, but the tapes were left behind all those years ago, and they’ve been passed around a bunch since. These tapes weren’t stolen, they were left behind. It should’ve been on us to get them back if they were important to us. Of course no one could’ve predicted Mike was going to go off the rails as badly as he did. The eBay seller did nothing wrong or illegal.

Lisa Pallow, Haunted George’s wife, contacted him explaining that two of the tapes were her deceased husband’s music, and that she would like to buy them. And the way he responded to her tells me the guy is an asshole. Really the person at fault for all of this is Mike McHugh.

I'm assuming if Rocket from the Crypt tapes are involved here – there were some for sale in that listing – someone's going to take some shit for this, because they were on a major at one point, though I've no idea which RFTC recordings are on those tapes in that eBay post.

LH: Yeah, that was the one tape I saw in there that I thought would probably go for the most money and also could turn into a hassle for the seller if he hears from [RFTC leader] John Reis or an attorney. I don’t think there would be any legal recourse against this guy though.

John Sellers from ‘90s trash-punk band, the Countdowns, commented on Kerry's post, concerning The Distillery: "It was the original board from Muscle Shoals.....Mike told me that [the Rolling Stones’] Sticky Fingers was recorded through it... it had these red and green square buttons to push... totally sixties mod... he LOVED that board!!! Chris... maybe? And I forget his last name but, he had a studio in the same complex as The Distillery and would tour with JSBX selling merch back in the '90's... he told me the whole story about Mike buying that board... how he flew out and it was sent by train upon purchase and how he accompanied it from start to finish... and how Chris would walk in and Mike would be passed out... not by drugs but by obsessive inspiration and no sleep.... with a clove cigarette in his mouth... under that board... working to make it work.

I THINK that The Countdowns were one of the first to record through that board at The Distillery but... well... memories and remembering shit these days... I always referred to Mike as 'The Mad Scientist. He was an absolute thrill of an experience to work with AND... did you ever hear him play drums? FUCK ME!!!”

-----------------------------------------------

LH: We did have some great times in that studio and before it all went bad. We hailed Mike McHugh as a genius. He was! It’s all very sad to me now. I have some great memories of that place. Andre Williams recorded with the Blues Explosion and Steve Mackay of the Stooges there! Good times.

Any other recording sessions at The Distillery that you remember?

LH: The wildest sessions I remember at that studio involved Andre Williams. He would get pretty drunk over the course of the session, so you had to get him on tape before he was too drunk. He had amazing stories and he was hilarious. He was also brilliant when he was lucid. He had produced records for Motown, and now he’s in Orange County with miscreants like us! 

I watched the Hunches vacuum up nails and screws off the floor while Mike recorded it so the obnoxious noise could be included on the band’s cover of the electric eels’ “Accident.” Not many engineers encourage this sort of thing. 

I went down to the Distillery for the final night of mixing the Black Lips’ Let It Bloom. The band had booked a show that night at a club directly across the street from the studio. The band left for their show, but I stayed behind with Mike while he continued mixing. I finally went over to the show and went up front. Cole Alexander had urinated into his own mouth, as he was wont to do back then, and spat the mouthful at the audience. I walked in late and went up just in time to get a face full of urine. I was now in business with the Black Lips.

My fondest memory of that studio is probably when the Necessary Evils recorded their second album. I know we were in there on New Year’s Eve. Those guys were all good friends of mine, as was Mike McHugh. The band didn’t have enough material to fill a full length album and were scrambling to cobble stuff together on the spot. It was a wonder to behold. Every one of those guys was hilarious. R.I.P. Steve Pallow.

I have tons of great memories from this studio. It’s really painful for me to think of Mike ending up like he did. Truly heartbreaking. 

---------------------------------------

Like any Facebook thread, the mass of names and rushed, emotionally punched-out comments can make for an intriguing read. Hell, a good pal of mine and Kerry’s posted that he put in a bid and would give the tape to her if he won it. He did get a couple of the tapes in the listing, but as Kerry stated earlier here, her tape was taken down after she reported it; and my friend got a cancellation message from eBay.

For Kerry though all this is definitely not legal chit-chat, but a loss of something dear, intense, and loved. It’s the kind of mini-nightmare anyone who’s recorded in a studio and then left it for “safe keeping” always has lurking in the back of their mind.

“I feel like crying all day today because of this,” said Kerry. “I don’t know why. Mike is so talented and I really want these tapes back. I used to hang out there a lot with Ronnie when I lived in Long Beach still. So many happy memories there – grateful for the scene ! Le sigh.”

-----------------------------------------------

After having wrapped up this piece, I heard from Kerry again with a possible happy ending to this story:

“I reported it as stolen, and it was pulled, and some punker dude in Costa Mesa went to get it for me," she explained, "but I didn’t ask him to. I don’t want the [eBay] guy to get the money. So the Good Samaritan kinda fucked it all up, and is supposed to mail it to me. And he paid $150 for it, so now I feel obligated to pay him back. Lots of people offered to buy it for me. And he bought RFTC and Haunted George."

Kerry asked said Samaritan (who shall remain annonymous) how he was able to get the tapes. He responded:

"Hi, thanks for getting back to me. I purchased the tapes directly from the guy... who bids on storage units. I bought a bunch of friends bands tapes and got them back to them. I knew going in that I'd lose money and I'm ok with that. Please let me gift you your tape back. Years ago I lost all of my... master reels in a storage unit that went unpaid while I was in rehab. I hate seeing strangers getting these tapes. Mike McHugh is the one to blame here. Although it’s hard to blame him with all of his mental health and addiction problems. I got my Distillery reels back from him several years ago after he lost the studio.... Anyway... I can get the tape to you or whoever you’d like me to. Larry Hardy maybe. No charge for the tape. Big Red Aunts fan by the way."

[thedummysdummy]

I'll Always Find You

Part 1 can be found here: One Small Decision

All the responses had been the same. “Nope, haven’t seen or heard from her.” Victor slammed a fist on his desk in desperation-fueled frustration. He could go to the police, he supposed, but doubted they’d take him seriously. It had been less than 24 hours and she was an adult. They’d had a fight. He’d just be eye-rolled out of their office…

So he went back to the stack of evolvers. Every minute ticking by was a drip of water torture serving to drive him insane. He called her after each page and despite the calls going straight to voicemail each time, Victor found himself holding his breath through that single ring. Stupid, stupid, stupid…

Everything paused as he flipped the page and found himself face-to-page with Ernest Elm, evol: tracking. It was almost too perfect to be true. Victor picked up his phone and dialed the number, hand holding the phone shaking and the other tapping the desk while his knee bounced. Two, three, four times it rang before a voice came on the line. “Hello?”

“Hello, is this Ernest Elm? This is Victor Li. I need your evol’s assistance.” 

~~~

An hour later, the redheaded and freckled Ernest stood in Victor’s office at LFG. He couldn’t have been older than twenty, with nervous eyes and twitchy hands. “Sit, sit,” Victor invited, gesturing to the chair where the girl usually parked herself. The young man did so, and Victor skipped the small talk. “Thank you for coming. Tell me about your evol. What do you need for it to work?”

“I, uh. Just need something that belongs to the person, and then I can see a thread that leads back to the owner. I usually just use it to return lost items, sir. I don’t know that it’s super helpful…” 

Victor rifled around in his desk and emerged with a small, well-loved shiba inu plushie. “If you don’t think it’s very helpful, Mr. Elm, then you have not spent enough time thinking of applications. You would be the most efficient search and rescue officer Loveland has ever seen. You could track down criminals, trafficked women and children, or missing persons. I would say that is a most noble evol.” He lifted his dark eyes and connected them to Ernest’s. “What are the limitations?” 

The young man seemed slightly taken aback by Victor’s statements. Could he really be that important? A smile settled onto his face and Ernest visibly relaxed. “I haven’t really found a distance limit, but the person does have to be alive. Sir, before we do this…would this person want to be found? I mean, I’m not helping you be a creepy stalker or anything, right?” 

“She would want to be found, yes. It’s possible that she might be in danger, so shall we get started?” Victor’s voice had regained its sharp edge and Ernest straightened in his seat. He accepted the doll with some amount of apprehension while Victor looked on with concentration. 

“Do you have a map? It would be easiest for me to tell you where she is if I have a map to draw you a path.”

Victor pulled a map of Loveland out of his desk drawer and scooted it over along with a pen. He folded his hands over his knee and swallowed the feelings of concern at the phrase ‘does have to be alive.’ But his dark eyes remained focused on Ernest’s face as the man held the toy and scrunched up his face. 

There was a long pause as tension hung heavy in the air before Ernest reached for the pen. He seemed to be following roads with one eye closed and the tip of the pen hovering over the map until it lingered over the industrial side of Loveland. The pen lowered until it kissed the map, leaving a small dot. “That’s the spot, sir.” 

Victor scooped up the map and examined the place where the marking lay. “Thank you. I must be going now. Goldman will give you your pay and escort you out.” Without further discourse, Victor disappeared down the hallway with his phone in one hand and map in the other. 

Speed limits were for people who didn’t have anywhere important to be. At least, that seemed to be Victor’s attitude as he flew down the side streets which led to the sketchier parts of Loveland. It was all but confirmed in his mind that she had been kidnapped at this point; there was no reason why she would have willingly ended up in the dilapidated industrial sector. 

The further out he went, the fewer cars he passed until he turned onto the final road and found himself completely alone. Whoever these people were, they had obviously gotten all of their training from bad films and crime novels. Victor pulled into the marked parking lot and stopped the car at the far end, not wanting to alert anyone inside to his presence earlier than was necessary. 

Victor slipped through the first strains of darkness to flatten himself against the wall of the building. So far he hadn’t seen or heard anyone, but that didn’t mean there weren’t eyes on him. Practically a wraith, he slipped around the outside until he found a door whose lock had been smashed. It opened easily and Victor entered without a sound. 

Unfortunately, the building was quite large and there was no telling where the girl was being kept. Victor listened carefully for any sound, but was only struck by the vast silence of the building’s hollow carapace. His keen eyes swirled as they scanned the floor for any sign of passage; however, it appeared he would not be so lucky. So he pushed forward into the depths of the building, the dim light providing only little guidance as he walked the halls. 

Door after door Victor paused outside and listened, pushing open those he could when he heard nothing behind them. Honestly, he’d expected to find guards by now, but obviously this was a small  or inexperienced bunch. How they’d managed to catch someone as capable as his dummy made no sense if they were that inept, but the ‘how’ could wait. 

When faced with the realization that he’d scoured the entire first floor, Victor paused at the stairwell. It went both up into higher floors and down beneath ground, and there still was no real sign which way he should check. He chose downstairs for multiple reasons; firstly, it was easier to drag an unwilling captive down than up. Secondly, underground would allow them to use lights without drawing attention to their abandoned abode. 

It seemed his reasoning was sound. Upon reaching the bottom of the stairs, a slight glow called from the far end of the hallway. Victor felt his heart rate increase as he knew he was on the correct path. Every cell in his body screamed for him to throw caution to the wind and race to the girl’s side, but thankfully the ones in charge of action still managed to maintain some semblance of order. 

At least enough order for him to only run to the end of the hallway as silently as he could manage and stop outside the door to listen. Two male voices conversed in hushed tones, low enough that Victor couldn’t quite make out what they were saying. He pressed his ear against the door in an attempt to hear better, only to wish he hadn’t. 

“We should just finish the job. We’ve had our fun and at this point, she’s a liability. She’s seen our faces and we can’t let that go.” 

“I suppose you’re right. But I want to have a little more fun, first. Where’d that knife go?” 

A soft rustling accompanied a muffled groan and squeak of fear. The sound of skin slapping skin and a pained squeal brought the fury which had been building in Victor’s stomach into his extremities. He burst through the door, taking in the scene in one swoop. It wasn’t a large room; in fact, it barely held three chairs and a small table. The girl was tied to the chair in the center of the room, her head resting on her chest and blood splattered here and there on the floor. She looked up at the sudden noise and revealed a bloody gag tied around her mouth, the crimson stain originating just above her right eyebrow and flowing its way down to the dirty cloth. 

Her eyes were dull and cloudy as her mind seemed to struggle to understand what she was seeing. However, it really only took a few moments for it to register that Victor had arrived, savior of the day. Tears welled up in those eyes and she seemed to be reaching for him with as much vigor as she could manage while being actually unable to move. 

Victor didn’t have time to release her, however, before her pair of captors were upon him. One held a knife while the other leveled a revolver at Victor’s head. Victor wasted no time in flinging a round-house kick at the gunman’s hand, sending the gun flying. The disarmed man was stunned by the sudden movement and froze, making it easy to strike him directly in the face. He crumpled like wet tissue paper and Victor turned to the other man, a larger specimen with a decidedly more frightening demeanor. 

“Where the hell did you come from?!” the kidnapper growled, circling Victor. “And who are you? How did you find this place?” 

“So many questions,” Victor retorted, his lip curled up slightly. “Who I am is none of your business. Neither is how I found you. But I will always find her, no matter where she is. She is mine and you would do well to put down your weapon before I have to take it away.” 

The man chuckled and lunged, knife aimed for Victor’s stomach. Victor nimbly stepped out of the way and elbowed the man in the back as he went by, causing him to stumble. However, the kidnapper recovered quickly and lunged again, this time grazing Victor’s hand as Victor grabbed for the man’s wrist. 

Victor didn’t so much as flinch at his wound. He simply wrapped his long fingers around the captor’s arm and flung him to the ground, smashing the man’s face into the concrete floor. There was a sickening crunch as the man’s nose broke on impact and a pool of blood began to immediately form beneath him. Victor was just about to turn back to the girl and untie her when she let out a muffled scream, which caused him to spin around and kick the first man again just as he began to reach for the gun. The man howled in agony as Victor’s sharp shoe connected solidly with his ribs and knocked the wind out of him. 

It seemed for a moment that both of his opponents were down, at least long enough for Victor to grab the abandoned knife and cut the girl free. He removed the gag first, followed quickly by her hands and then her feet. Tears streamed down her face despite her best efforts to keep them contained and she collapsed into Victor’s arms. “Can you walk?” he asked, holding her tightly against his chest. 

“I…I think so,” she whispered, voice hoarse from screaming. 

“Then I want you to run outside. The authorities shouldn’t be too far behind me, if Goldman did as he was instructed. Which he always has. I’ll keep these two busy while you make your escape.” 

The girl opened her mouth to argue, but Victor instead covered it with his own. By the time he pulled away from the kiss, the girl was feeling even dizzier than her wounds had caused. “Go. I will be perfectly fine. These two idiots are obviously no more than I can handle.” He pushed her toward the door and despite her intense desire to stay by his side, she gave Victor one last look and darted out of the room as fast as she could. 

Each time one of the captors would attempt to get up from the floor, Victor would mercilessly return them to their position. Every ounce of fear and anger was channeled directly into ensuring that neither of the men escaped before the police arrived to take them away. His hand still bled freely but he paid it no mind, seemingly not even realizing he’d been injured. 

Probably fifteen minutes passed before the thunder of police boots could be heard on the stairs. Victor exited the room and waved them down, pointing into the room. “The kidnappers are in here. I managed to subdue them for the time being, but there’s a loose gun.” 

The police pushed right past Victor and handcuffed the kidnappers, hauling them away before also cuffing Victor. He didn’t protest; it was just standard procedure, after all. They had no way to know what the truth of the situation was until they had time to interview all parties. 

Full darkness had fallen by the time Victor emerged with the police. The girl was being attended to by ambulance staff, but no amount of shouting could convince her to stay put when she saw Victor’s face. She rushed to him and wrapped her arms around his neck, clinging to him as if her life depended on it. “I can’t believe you found me,” she sobbed, her tears staining the collar of his shirt red. “I’m so sorry! I shouldn’t have run off like that! I thought for sure I was going to die alone and that you’d blame yourself for me making one bad decision!” 

Victor chuckled and kissed her on the cheek. “I will always find you, dummy. Even if I have to do it ten thousand times, I will always find you.”

[29pageshomestuckeveryday]

Homestuck, page 7,928

[S][A6A6I5] ====>

And there it is.

The greatest reunion in Homestuck history. Neigh, the greatest MOMENT. It does not get better than this. It WILL NOT get better than this. At some point, possibly during the 5th or 6th loop of the above animation which you can't seem to stop watching and listening to, a thought occurs to you. You think with a sense of relief, this is it. We made it. This one-page triumph has just retroactively vindicated the long and arduous journey behind it. After every bump in the road, every setback, every nagging doubt about the story's direction, every FUCKING time your waifu got the shaft, all of that just got wiped away in the blink of a tearful eye by the single greatest piece of media you have ever experienced.

You can finally say with absolute conviction that it's all been worth it. It has all paid off. All roads no matter how treacherous brought you to this glory. Every obscure plot thread, every batshit twist, all that retcon stuff, the sprite squared shit, every bit of dubious narrative legerdemain, ALL of it you now realize was designed with excruciating precision to achieve this singular, magnificent result. You'd be blown away in hindsight by these shocking feats of multi-threaded plot prestidigitation if you weren't still transfixed by the looping animation. And your jaw would be hitting the floor by now if not for the leagues-deep sense of tranquility welling inside your bosom now that you know Homestuck's audacious promise has been utterly fulfilled forever.

You're now into your… what is it? 11th, maybe 12th loop of the animation? You've lost track, and it doesn't matter. What's the hurry, you wonder. What's the harm in camping on this page for a while longer. What else do you have going on? Maybe it's time we faced the facts. This is truly all you have. This is your LIFE. Without breaking eye contact with your monitor, you find yourself reaching for your smartphone. Wait, why exactly am I doing this, you wonder? Why am I going for my phone. You are going for your phone because it's time to take a fucking PICTURE, numbnuts. You decide that digital photography is the best way to make this shit last forever.

You nod and go, oh that makes sense, yeah. I'll definitely take a picture of this animation which has looped at least 20 times by now. Make sure you get yourself in the picture too, to prove you were there. You mumble, what? A selfie. Take a god damn selfie of yourself, posing next to page 9828 of MS Paint Adventures dot com. As you contort your body to pose next to your screen and flip your camera to selfie mode, I continue my unhinged diatribe to instruct all other readers to do the same. I want to see SELFIES, people. I need to see your ridiculous mugs next to these two gently bobbing freaks posted publicly on all of your social media channels by the THOUSANDS. Not just a few thousand either. Oh no. Like an old and wise meme once foretold, we're gonna need to clear nine big ones here. In fact I'm gonna need your selfies jacked up so far over 9000, scientists will have to start inventing new numbers to keep track.

Choke the internet with your selfies, or with a horse as my witness, I will delete this fucking website. If I don't see enough selfies out there, I will scrub Homestuck from the Akashic Servers and never speak its name again. I will then dedicate every shred of ingenuity, political influence and worldly resources I have to releasing darkness on this planet. So post your selfies early. Post them often. Post them to save a modern literary MASTERPIECE. Post them to save the lives of BILLIONS. But most of all, post them because you really want to, and were PROBABLY going to do it anyway even if I didn't say all this bullshit.

Song used: Horsecatska by James Roach

[the-sooptudio]

Thoughts on the thematic narrative connections between Face and Layover:

I gave Face a good re-listen after Rainy Days dropped with so many allusions to pet names in the mv (Blue also has connotations) and there’s at least some merit to the two albums having a connecting thread.

Face begins with the end of a deceitful relationship, fueling feelings of depression and self-depreciation. This depression is exacerbated by a hectic work schedule which drives the artist to seek escape in drink (Interlude: Dive) The film Like Crazy is about an ambiguous relationship, and the lines included in the track have one character trying to cement a relationship while the other pulls away out of fear of losing everything. The song goes on to narrate how the artist decides to lose himself in clubs and liquor to numb himself and avoid having to face his reality. But after the club closes he finds himself alone again. The big closing number, Set Me Free pt. 2, finds the artist reaching a catharsis point where he no longer cares what outside forces think and he’s ready to face—if not the world then at least himself—with the truths he’s learned about himself and a renewed self-confidence.

Layover is a classic album of longing for something that has been lost and could be about anyone, but the artist here makes some very pointed allusions to publicly made pet names in the lyrics and mv for Rainy Days (the little prince, four-leaf clover, alien) which bring into question who this album is really about. [The title Blue also may hold some connotations as both one of Jimin’s favorite colors and the color both of them picked to represent their relationship in an interview questionnaire. Blue mold (penicillium) is also how Jimin is saved in Taehyung’s contacts.] The lyrics “Let me make up for all the time we lost/We can start again, open all the doors” may hint at an ambiguous relationship that the artist wishes to solidify with a new sense of honesty (and perhaps some publicity depending on if the hints he’s dropping are truly hints)

Overall, Layover is an album about someone reaching out to rebuild a relationship and ultimately waiting for the other person to work through their feelings (For Us). Face is about pulling away out of fear of losing everything and spiraling until one confronts themself with honesty (Set Me Free pt. 2).

End note: I don’t consider myself to be a serious shipper, but I am a fan of lyric/mv analysis and especially queercoding, which bts is well known for in general. The members have always been very deliberate with their lyric choices and at this point in their careers likely have input into their mv concepts as well. The music videos for Like Crazy and Rainy Days seem to be telling two sides of the same story.

[meadow-dusk]

Albums I Loved in 2022

November - Live Rust (1978)

"Every band rusts," we're told by a man dressed as a research scientist while Neil looks on in playful childlike wonder. This is presented to be the consequence of the musicians getting caught in the rain a bit earlier in the show, an uncanny echo of the stormy memory of the Woodstock Festival. They play on.

At the time of this post, Neil and Crazy Horse have been rusting together for over five decades, recently releasing their World Record album. No one seems to know exactly which number it is in their chronology, but it's certainly up there. And it's a gift in every way. I very seriously contemplated awarding it the first place spot this month, but it was hard to knock this one off of the podium for fear of retaliation. It's that strong.

I think I'm finally starting to get it. Crazy Horse is a relentless beast that clops along at a strenuous but sustained pace, and Neil is the six-foot jockey steering them down the track. By the same token, they're his tether to earth, so he doesn't go flying off into space when they round the curves (which, from the sound of it, could be entirely possible). He's comfortably saddled atop knowing that they've got it down, and it gives him freedom to let go of the reins. It worked then, and it works now. They're still going. It's 75% of the same exact unit that plays on the new album, and it's given me perspective in hearing this record as it reveals the threads that continue to hold them together. They've got the range to round out "Lotta Love" and reenergize "Tonight's the Night" and endure the exhaustive force of "Like A Hurricane." You can let yourself get a little lost in it and trust that you'll be brought back no sooner than you need to be.

But we get to experience that rush only after we're treated to the proven formula of Neil opening alone on harmonica and a twelve-string guitar (😍), illustrating what would be the story of his life through song. And he is completely radiant: absolutely nothing's missing. In fact, that's exactly what I wanted when I first sought out this performance (blessedly, captured on video in the film of the same name). It was one of those nights where I felt like disappearing from the rest of the world. So I just lay in bed and watched, letting it erase everything that wasn't Neil. Little by little I felt myself soften with it, and by the time they brought out the electrics the feeling in my veins was something completely different. What an incredible power music has. There's not much more to say.

>> see my Albums I Loved in 2022 | 2021 | 2020 | 2019

[plaguedwitness]

Book Recommendation:

Title: In the House in the Dark of the Woods

Author: Laird Hunt

Genre: Psychological Horror/Historical Fiction

Year: 2018

Number of Pages: 218

I'll be very honest. This book is weird. I started reading it based on a friend's recommendation (she actually gave up on it). The book description grabbed me, especially the first line, "Once Upon a time there was and wasn't a woman who went to the woods." Please let me break it down into parts:

Writing style

Hunt's style choice fits the feeling this book is going for. However, that makes it hard to follow. This story is pretty much the fever dream of a Puritan woman who's become lost in the woods. We read her thoughts about the woods, her man, her boy, herself, her past. And it all flows like a stream of consciousness. She has a point, but it's a roundabout way of getting to it. I did appreciate that the chapters are pretty short.

While reading, I could tell something was off with everything Goody describes, but I wasn't able to put my finger on it. It kept me on the edge of my seat, waiting for the reveal.

Characters

There are 4 main characters and a few secondary ones. I liked that. Didn't have to remember too many names. And considering the protagonist Goody refers to her husband and son as "my man" and "my boy" it's quite easy keeping track. The story also only follows Goody's POV.

My personal favorite is Captain Jane. Her description is totally awesome sounding, and she herself is a badass.

Plot

Honestly, I wasn't sure where this story was heading. The book description is very accurate, but there were moments when I was confused. Goody constantly jumps between what is currently happening and some memory of her childhood or as a wife. It felt disjointed, but the flashbacks are mostly linear, so it's almost like 2-3 simultaneous storylines of different points in Goody's life (long-past, recent-past, present).

Ending (no spoilers)

While I found the plot and narrative occasionally difficult, the ending was really what made me like this book. Hunt ties together all the loose threads of this lost-in-the-woods-fever-dream and leaves the reader with an ending that perfectly fits the premise. For me, it was one of those "omg I forgot that" realizations as everything clicked. There is also a twist I truly appreciated. I think any other ending would have left me unimpressed.

Before the ending, I'd say this book was 2-3 stars out of 5. After the ending, it was easily 4 stars (I really liked the book but had some issues).

I hope you found this recommendation/review helpful.

[prettytragcdies]

🌟- we talk all the time and ily

Hello I cherish our friendship so so much and am so happy that we started communicating all those years ago! We have developed so many relationships through our muses and the highlight of our friendship was definitely when I actually got to meet you in person! Anyway ily and also be prepared to have more reply spams soon 🥰

🌟- we talk all the time and ily

I was going to try and be all funny by jokingly sending you the first one like why am I following you I don't even know you I mean it's not like we've actually met in person before or anything like that lol. But now I can't, because this is entirely too sincere and sweet.

But yes! All of the feelings are very much mutual, and right back at you. I like how we've been friends for so many years now that I've legit lost track of the exact number. Like, are we at eight now? I don't know, but I digress. As for our muse relationships, wow. I think we've covered just about everything, and I love it. Just when I think I have a number one top favorite, we end up creating another one and then I legit can't even decide.

Also, you got me to attempt to write male muses, and that's pretty impressive. Well, it's just Bobby so far, and it's probably easier than most others would be since he's from my favorite show ever of all time, but look what you've done. Oh, and then the fact that we adore so many of the same characters and write a lot of the same muse types just makes me want to add more to my list, even though I might not use them as much, but anyway.

I'm already typing a mini novel, so I should probably shush now. But yay for reply spams, because your plot ideas are much more creative than mine, and I'm forever grateful that you put up with my novella responses and triple digit thread counts. Most importantly, though, you must come back down here sometime in the future, because my boss still asks me about y'all from time to time, and next time we must remember to take pictures lol.

Okay, I'm really going to be quiet now, I promise, but ily, too. That is all. /endramble

[sanmononoke]

Saturday, November 4 -- Crack!ship AU: Write a crack!ship au.

Summary: San gets roughed up by some swine demons and seeks refuge in the back room... but maybe she finds more there...

Tags: Canon divergent, Demon Attack rewrite, Hurt/Comfort, werewolf x human, whole lotta angst, tw blood, tw gore, super ooc, do not come for me, actually do not look at my trash thanks, love you all, this is actually just bc I love Luke Hemmings ok, also no beta (hehe werewolf pun) we die like MEN

Rating: Teen (PG 13)

Featuring: Gregory Eeyore (@notmuchofatail)

Her side hissed with pain, a searing sound emanated from her ribs. Her body was trying to heal itself already. The boar demons really did a number on San; goring the wolf between them and their prey. White fur, stained red, was dripping on the street. The girl inside was panicking about the contagion in her blood. She couldn’t save anyone if she damned them all to a fate they didn’t choose. As quickly as the swine fell, one by one and excruciatingly slow, San twisted into her human flesh. Naked and scared in the middle of the street, she ran to the closest place she felt comfort. 

It was strange how well she’d grown to like Ruff to Fluff. With all the customer facing tasks and cleaning up, she thought she’d have to trudge through her work day despite being surrounded by animals. One thing that made her day rush by, surprisingly, was her boss. Greg didn’t seem to like anyone, not unless you were as unassuming as he was. Even then, San thought it was a lost cause to try and win him over. 

Then he smiled. It was one time and easy to miss. It was something sarcastic San had said, she couldn’t remember now. She just remembered the feeling in her stomach that came and went with it. A shift happened in her, not something primal or fierce, but something soft. The wolf hadn’t felt this way before, not for her pack, not for Lou. What she thought she felt for him was driven by an instinct, a want to be a part of something again. All she wanted from Greg was to make him smile again. 

She doubted he would smile at her now, tracking debris and blood all in the back room. San clicked the door shut behind her and prayed that no one would hear her rustling about. Her hot skin ran tepid as it grew pale. Clammy hands reached in the dark for something to stop the blood flow; towels, blankets, puppy pads, anything. San was bleeding out of her guts. Her body was fighting the wounds as she fought time. The swine demons tore her to shreds and she was fighting a losing battle. She pulled some ratty donated towels from a shelf and covered the gash across her abdomen. Crimson wicked up the threads as she held the pressure, grabbing another. Her heaving breath and heart along with the cries of civilians in the other room drowned out the footsteps approaching. San cradled the towels into her nude form and the lights flicked on. 

A beat. 

Her eyes met ocean blues, no need to adjust from the dark. San’s breath hitched, she held it against her will until Greg breathed out her name, “San?”

It wasn’t a question. He knew exactly what he saw before him. The girl drenched in sweat and blood, naked and crouched over a pile of towels. She was hurt, badly. He moved to meet her, locking the door behind him in one fell motion.

“Stop!” She hushedly demanded, pleaded. 

Greg froze. What was he supposed to do? The girl he’d grown to love in the past months was mortally wounded and begging him to leave her to bleed. San talked about going home before. The Great Forest, guarded by spirits and wolves beyond Mundus' imagination. She painted a beautiful picture and how important the conservation was. Greg’s heart sank when she talked about leaving and he didn’t know why it bothered him so much. Until now. 

She was mere feet away from him and his heart was plummeting. San would just be another victim of this place if he couldn’t help her now. Ignoring her, Greg went to his knees beside her. San kicked herself across the floor away from him, sliding back against the wall. “Please, don’t! You can’t– you can’t touch me! My blood–” 

San was on the verge of tears, clutching the sopping towels to her torso, covering what she could. “I’m a– I’m, I’m–” 

The words wouldn’t come. She choked up every time she tried to say it, admit what she was. Admit she had been lying to him this whole time. San was a danger to him, the staff, the animals… Her stomach twisted at what Greg would think of her. “I know.” 

‘I know.’

San’s panicked hiccups subsided as she played his words back in her head. 

‘I know.’

“San… San, I’ve known for a while,” the man scooted closer, pulling a blanket from a bin. “You aren’t that good at hiding it,” he wrapped the cushy fabric around her shoulders, careful not to touch the contaminants. 

San was shivering. She’d been in dire situations before; the Order, the forest, the wolves. But she didn’t ever feel so cold, nor so hot that the tears streaming felt like relief. Greg knew. He knew and he hadn’t fired her, or accused her of being a danger, a liar. He knew and he kept smiling at her. 

He continued, wrapping his arms around her over the shield of thick wool, “You never scared me, you know? But you’re scaring me right now, so just… Just tell me how I can help you, okay? You’ve gotta get home, remember?”

His head rested on her shoulder as he leaned in, begging for her to meet him halfway. San slumped into Greg’s chest, “You promised me you’d send pictures, a-and you’d restore the forest. So, so you can’t be another victim of tonight. This place… it fucking takes and takes, but it can’t take you–”

“Will you come?” San asked in a voice almost unrecognizable to herself, so tender and mild. She repeated, still muffled into his collarbone, “Will you come with me?” 

It was Greg’s turn to feel an overwhelming sense of relief amidst a town wide tragedy. He placed his chin on her head and nodded, “Of course. I’ll go anywhere, just please get through this, San.” 

“I just need time to heal,” she breathed out. “Come morning, my stomach’ll have closed up and I’ll just need to rest for a while. A long, long while…”

Greg’s heart rejoiced that San seemed to believe she was on the mend and that he wasn’t going to lose her tonight. He hadn’t felt this invested in someone for ages, and he hadn’t expected San to sink her claws into him like she did. Maybe it was her lack of charm, that she didn’t try to worm her way into his brain. It just happened. It happened over a laugh, over their shared passion for animals, over his own protests. He fought it for weeks. He reminded himself of who she associated with, how odd she could be, how she was literally a werewolf. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to see her as anything other than who she was to him. San wasn’t like anyone he’d met before. He loved her in spite of it all. He just couldn’t admit that to himself until he heard the muffled whimpers through the door, until he saw her doused in red. Greg held the girl close, determined to never let her go again, “You can rest, San. I’ve got you.”

Weariness took over. The girl curled into his arms, careful to avoid touching him with any exposed viscera. He wrapped the blanket tighter and San felt as if he was holding her together. She’d gone her whole life without being held like this. Any semblance of touch was either harsh or methodical. No one held the werewolf simply to hold her. No human showed her the kind of love and care Greg was giving her now. The flesh mended, but something else did too. A wound left by humans long, long ago. The voice in her head that told San she was a monster, an unlovable creature that needed to be left to the wolves, was replaced. Her parents weren’t people that knew her anymore. They didn’t see the woman she grew to be despite the bite. Greg did. He saw her. San didn’t know for how long, but she hoped he would for much longer after tonight. 

[isilrina]

Dreamscape!!! Dreamscape!!! 👀 A Dance of Blades and Shadows, Dark Academia, and Empires?? And Emily&Dylan pleaaase! ✨

Ok, down the rabbit hole we go ;p

Dreamscape: (Sci-Fi meets historical Novel.)

How long had it been since she had seen a real sunrise? How long had it been since she had truly seen the color of the sky? How long had she remained so closed off from the world? A shadow passed over Emily's face as her heart tightened, and she delved into the abyss of her memories, her eyes drifting aimlessly. She lost touch with reality, sinking deeper into the spiral of her past, searching for the face of her mother. "Miss Hastings?" The deep voice with a pronounced Midwestern accent startled her, abruptly cutting the thread of her thoughts and bringing her back to the present. Turning her attention to the young man who now stood beside her, she offered a smile that did not reach her eyes, and he furrowed his brow, growing a bit more concerned. However, he didn't comment and simply handed her a metal cup emitting wisps of steam and a strong, bitter aroma reminiscent of her childhood. "Your coffee," he added simply.

A Dance of Blades and Shadows: (Fantasy Novel where Japanese, Norse and Polish cultures meet.)

"What are your thoughts on this?" she asked him, surprising him with her inquiry amidst the weighty atmosphere of the meeting. Takehiko shifted his gaze back to the stone wall in front of him, his mind racing to formulate a response that would live up to the princess's expectations, his hands crossed behind his back in a gesture of contemplation and restraint. "I… I don't know, your highness," he replied after clearing his throat, his voice steady yet laced with a hint of uncertainty. "Perhaps… perhaps we could offer our assistance with the beast problem, and in turn, they could lend us aid." The gray-skinned princess looked at him with a smile, a glimmer of appreciation shining in her colorless eyes. She recognized not only the young man’s experience but also the wisdom imparted by the teachings of a royal heir in his response. The intelligence he displayed at this moment sparked a connection between them. Her smile grew wider, a silent acknowledgment of his contribution. Takehiko fell silent, waiting for the princess to speak further. His mind swirled with questions. Why did she seek his opinion? Did she truly need him to answer? Would she listen, regardless? The sweet voice of Mani'herja interrupted his thoughts, bringing him back to the present. "That's a good idea, Takehiko," she praised him, her voice carrying a note of approval. She turned her attention back to the older man, her gaze unwavering.

Dark Academia: (Not the final title. Magic School with murders and intrigue.)

This couldn't be happening. The email she had woken up to stated that they had received a notification from her supposed mentor at another university, leading to her removal from the list of students for the upcoming academic year. The very idea felt like a cruel jest, a twist of fate she couldn't understand. Melody had never heard of any other university or mentor. It had to be an error, she thought, and that's why she was desperately searching for Lyon 3's secretary's phone number. She intended to contact them and rectify the misunderstanding, to get her well-structured life back on track. Her trembling fingers hovered over her phone's screen, scrolling through the contact list of the university's website. As her eyes settled on the entry, she was about to tap it with her index finger. Just then, a notification popped up right under it. In her frenzied state, she accidentally accessed it. The email message opened before her eyes, revealing an enigmatic scholarship offer. The words on the screen sent a shiver down her spine when she realized it wasn't from the university she had known. Instead, it hailed from an institution known as "The Academia." Melody had never heard of such a place.

Empires: (Sci-Fi arranged marriage between Greece and Japan but in space.)

He raised a surprised look to her, and his eyes landed on the single tear that rolled down the cheek of the young redhead. Despite her desire to appear dignified, this salty drop had breached the barriers of her will, splashing onto the festive tablecloth covering their table. No one dared to speak, but the noise of the guests masked from the elders the spectacle that was unfolding right before their eyes. Time seemed suspended, and, unable to bear any more, the young Princess raised her chin, composed, and in a voice filled with sadness, she said: "I thank the Gods for giving me the most abominable man in marriage." With these words, and before the entire assembly, she stood up and excused herself from the table. She claimed the aftermath of the ceremony and the stress as a reason to request permission from the Shogun to retire to her chambers. The old man shot a quick angry glance at his son and granted his daughter-in-law the right to leave the room. She did so with measured and deliberate steps in front of all the guests. Once she had disappeared behind the door frame, Tomoyoshi locked eyes with his cousin and said in a cold voice: "Anata wa saite. [You are the worst. (In Japanese)]" And those were the last words spoken throughout the entire meal.

Emily & Daniel from "Dreamscape"