#to the tune of mcd. for the record

[flashhwing]

I’m having angsty handers thoughts pls help

[hippolotamus]

5, 4, 3, 2, 1

Rules: post the top 5 works you’re most proud of that you released in 2022 (not necessarily your most popular), your top 4 current WIPs that you’re excited to release in the new year, your top 3 biggest improvements in your writing over the past year, your top 2 resolutions (ways you wish to improve your writing/blog) for the new year, and your number 1 favorite line you’ve written this year!

Tagged by @rmd-writes @blackandwhiteandrose & darling wife @lizzie-bennetdarcy 🥰

5 works (in no particular order)

Warm Hellos and Our Last Goodnights This one is definitely a pride and joy of mine, despite it's more serious content. Well, really because of the more serious content. Up until I published this I felt I was an author readers could count on for fluff and light-hearted feels. But the idea shouted at me and begged to be written. I'm truly glad I listened. [David/Patrick, T, CW: MCD]

What's Next? My first crack at writing Rachel, during a period when there was some fandom upheaval over her purpose in the show. By far one of my least popular offerings. It was satisfying to dig into her side of the breakup and what she may or may not have noticed before Patrick left for Schitt's Creek. [Patrick/Rachel, G]

Whatever may come (your heart I will choose) This one is... my baby, love of my life, I'll snarl if you look at it wrong. LOL (sort of). In all seriousness I have a very strong attachment to this work. There are many pieces of my own complicated coming out journey littered in every corner of it. Mapping out Eddie's journey from high school to adulthood was... let's just say I'm getting choked up thinking about it. It's safe to say I'm very proud of my Marshmallow. [Buck/Eddie, M]

My Favorite Color is You I both love this one and am quite proud of it. It's a level of E I hadn't really explored before and, while some of it could probably use some tweaks and fine tuning, I love the shit out of it. Artist!Buck being adored by one Eddie Diaz, with a side of painting each other, lives in my head rent free. Always. [Buck/Eddie, E]

The Sound of My Heart My first attempt at fake dating. It was... a wild ride from a plot planning perspective. (I use the word planning incredibly loosely here). However, I'm rather impressed at Past Me's ability to research a city I hadn't been to since my senior year of high school [redacted] years ago. Researching train schedules and the New York Botanical Gardens was probably my favorite part of the whole experience. [David/Patrick, T]

4 wips

4... really??? Okay, so the ones most likely to get published that I'm excited about:

Completing If you like Fashion & Baseball

A yet to be named Twylexis oneshot with some worry/comfort over a health scare.

For the Record [working title]: a fluffy little Buddie first kiss/getting together fic for @shortsighted-owl

Continuing to add to the Secrets & Lies universe

3 biggest improvements

Punctuation around dialog tags. Still a struggle but better than before.

Taking direction from my betas and applying those notes more consistently

Varying my word usage by eliminating duplicates and making more trips to the thesaurus.

2 resolutions

Writing multi-chapter works fully before publishing. I am terrible about this and often write myself into a corner.

Consistently adding more eyeballs to a doc for feedback.

Number 1 Favorite Line

This was insanely difficult to choose just one. I'm cheating and picking something from both fandoms:

I know all your secrets: “Never better. Should we exchange the usual my country wants you dead pleasantries first or is foreplay off the menu tonight?” 

Whatever May Come: Technically only one line used multiple times, but I absolutely adore the repetition of I love you, I love you, I love you in chapter 23. There's just so much yearning packed into it.

I don't know who has been there, done that with this but I'll tag @shortsighted-owl @vanillahigh00 @alysiswriting @sarahlevys

[littlemissnoname13]

Anatomy Book (D.M)

Summary: She meets him at her university lecture and they strike up an instant bond. And as the story always goes. She falls in love with him. But on a seemingly mundane day the world turns on its axis, leaving her life upside down.

Warnings: angst, mcd, mentions of drinking and throwing up, only implied smut, some coarse language, implied car wreck, read at your own discretion.

Au: Modern (Draco Malfoy x Female!reader)

Words: 3209

A/n: third queued post. This one is a bit angsty and is told via flashbacks. Hopefully the transitions aren’t too messy. I haven’t proof read it so please excuse silly errors. 🥲

Master list

Today

It is an incredibly ordinary day.

The overcast sky strewn with heavy clouds that look ready to burst open any moment is only adding to the dullness of it all.

An indie record is playing from the spinning record on the turntable—the melodies bleeding into the chiming of the cash register and the clinking of cutlery to create a soft tune, repetitive enough to put her to sleep.

The buttery, sweet, inviting smell of raisin bread just out of the oven fills the air of the cafe and she has half a mind to get up and buy herself some.

Maybe after finishing her coffee. She doesn’t really care.

For the first time in months, she has nowhere to be. Classes are canceled and she has no plans or any social obligations whatsoever.

She is free to go to that art show happening later in the day. She is free to read that one book she’d been wanting to read for the longest time. She has all the time needed to strip off that hideous paint job at her campus housing and yet, she finds herself sitting by the window of this outré excuse for a coffee shop in the middle of nowhere.

Another batch of freshly made bread is being taken out from the oven and she takes it as a sign to get her arse up and buy some. Only, she never makes it to the counter. The vibration of her phone in her pocket causes her to take a detour.

Rain is starting to pour by the time she steps out of the cafe to receive the phone call from an unknown number.

Frustratingly long minutes pass by as she stands out in the rain, stiff and unmoving while she listens to what the person on the other end has to say.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” She quietly says into the receiver when the person is done speaking. “I’m on my way now.”

When she finally presses the end call button, the day no longer feels ordinary. The drive back to her house and the painfully long stagger to her wardrobe suddenly seem like events that will painfully brand themselves into her memories for as long as she shall live.

As for mid afternoon phone calls out of the blue?

She is positive she will dread them from here on out.

She lets his fingers glide along the fabrics hanging neatly in the closet and pulls out a dress.The inky black fabric reminds her of him. She often wonders if his black suits were simply a means to protect himself, make him look unapproachable.

“No one can hurt you if you don't let them close enough.” He used to say.

She understands that now.

****

6 months ago

Standardised tests were designed by the devil, she was sure.

She’d spent the last few weeks throwing back espresso shots and stubbing out countless HB pencils, only to place second in the entire class.

The boy currently sitting in front of her in the lecture hall had one-upped her by pretty much a landslide.

She wasn’t meaning to snoop but he had his test results open in a tab on his laptop. He was fast asleep and his white blond hair was defying gravity by poking in every direction imaginable.

His mouth was slightly parted and his shoulders were heaving up and down with the steady inhale and exhale of his breaths.

She’d spent half a semester in this class already and this was the first time she’s seen him. In her defence, she had been busy jotting down every word that came out of the lecturer’s mouth. In retrospect, most of the things weren’t even useful.

For a split of a second she wanted to tap him on the shoulder and place the styrofoam cup of coffee she bought for herself in his hand. She was yet to drink from it and he looked like he needed it more than she did.

She scanned through her mental memory folder for a name but she couldn’t remember ever seeing him in class. So while the lecturer continued with his presentation slides, she assigned every single boy name she could think of to the mysterious stranger in front of her to see if it would match.

None of them did.

There was just something otherworldly about him. Not in a he’s-an-alien type of way but more in a he-could-be-celestial type of way. He reminded her of stars and constellations and everything distant and unreachable. Something on could only look at and not touch.

When the painfully long lecture seminar was finally over, everyone gathered their things and scampered out of the hall like they’d been held there against their will. She too slung her bag on her shoulder and got ready to leave.

He was still sleeping and she was too afraid of waking him up.

On her way out, she placed her still warm and untouched coffee cup on his desk and came up with a made up name for the boy who reminded her of the stars.

Draco.

****

When she entered the lecture hall the very next morning, she found a styrofoam cup waiting for her in her usual seat.

In front of her was Draco, or whatever his real name was. His glasses were resting on his nose and his brows were scrunched up in deep concentration at something on his laptop screen.

She quietly settled into her seat and lifted the styrofoam cup. On it was her name scribbled in a messy scrawl of the campus barista’s handwriting.

“Extra shot of espresso.” His voice came out in a gruff whisper. He was still facing the presentation slide.

“Thank you….” She whispered back, trailing off when she realised she can’t call him by the made up namesake in her head.

“Draco.” He said, tilting his head slightly backwards to look at her with eyes that were grey and gleaming like they’d absorbed all light in the universe. “I’m Draco.”

And at that moment she could easily confirm that there was no other name more suitable for the man in front of her.

****

Three weeks ago

Morning coffee became a ritual and Draco Malfoy became a friend to her. Even on days where he couldn’t come to class, he’d somehow get a cup sent to her.

The coffee, she’d enjoy. His absence, not so much.

It was a little over five in the evening when she was studying in her room at the campus housing when she heard the knock on her door.

It was him in his usual black turtleneck sweater plus a MacBook and a paper tray holding two cups of coffee.

“Catch me up on today’s class?” He quirked a brow at her.

She took the tray off his hand and led him inside. Having him in her room made her incredibly self conscious. She wished she’d put away the clothes laying on her hamper, and she wished she had better clothes on.

“Only if we finish up in an hour.” She said, “I’m meeting a friend for drinks later.”

“I leave for one day, and you replace me.” He curled his fist into a ball and stabbed at his chest with an invisible knife. “My heart’s shattered and smashed.”

“You’re so dramatic.” She settled down next to him on the edge of her bed. “You can join us if you want to.”

His eyes danced around while he contemplated his final answer. Then, he shrugged. “Okay,then.”

Thinking back, it was a terrible terrible idea.

****

After she introduced Draco to Astoria, the three of them threw down some shots at the bar.

They were tipsy to the point where bad songs sounded good enough to jump around and dance to but sober enough that they could walk Astoria home. After bidding Astoria goodbye, she threw up in a trash can and he almost threw up solely because she did.

Her head was reeling but she was just happy to walk home with him. Well, she assumed she was walking because she was too messed up to realise he was carrying her.

Draco carried her all the way up to her floor and gently lowered her into her bed. Then, he walked to the kitchenette to fetch a glass of water.

“Drink.” He instructed, kneeling on the floor next to her bed. She could never get over how bright his eyes were. She loved them.

“You know, the first time I saw you, I drove myself up a wall trying to guess what your name was?” She mumbled. Alcoholic beverages always made her talk too much.

“Really?” He chuckled, pushing strands of hair behind her ears. “What name was your top guess?”

“Draco.” She hiccuped.

“Yeah?”

“I mean, my first guess was Draco.”

“How come?” He asked, looking at her in awe.

She wanted him to look at her that way all the time. It felt so good.

“Well, you definitely did not seem like a David, or a Michael or even a Samuel.” She continued. “Every name I thought of just didn’t go until I thought of Draco. I guess It was a lucky guess.”

He leaned over and pressed a kiss onto her forehead and she melted right into him.

“I love that you’re named after a constellation...I love you.” She said out loud even though she didn’t mean to.

He backed away, and cleared his throat. “Food.” He said hurriedly. “You need to eat something, I’ll go check your fridge.”

She tried to not think about the sharp pang in her chest.

He left her with her thoughts and went through her empty fridge. When he found nothing, he pulled out his phone and ordered bagels to be delivered from the only restaurant that was open.

“My aunts are named Bellatrix and Andromeda” He offered, sitting back down next to her.

“Really?”

“And your mum?”

“Narcissa.” He kissed her forehead again. “I know it’s a bit of a deviation from the theme.”

“So are you going to name your children according to the theme or deviate?” She asked and he looked away, fidgeting at his phone.

“I don’t know. Maybe I’ll stick to the theme.”

“Really?” She arched her eyebrows, propping herself up on her elbow to get a better look at him. “I’m surprised because you called children miniature cretins when we were at the park the other day.”

“I’m pretending like I didn’t hear you.”

“No.” She protested. “Now I have to know what name you have in mind.”

He chucked his phone away onto the dresser and looked at her with conviction. “Scorpius.” He finally said. “Unless you have something better in your genius mind.”

“And what about girl names?”

“You tell me, since you seem to be such an expert on the matter.”

She rolled her eyes at him and punched him jokingly in the arm. He was surprisingly muscular under his shirt because her knuckles hurt.

“Elain.” She said mid laugh. “I like the name Elain.”

***

Saturday 7:47 A.M.

Astoria: I swear off alcohol for the rest of my life. 🤡. How are you coping?

Y/n: I feel like a zombie. I would have probably died of dehydration if it weren’t for Draco

Three dots appeared on her screen and vanished.

Y/n: Astoria?

Astoria: so, is it safe to assume you guys are a thing? 🍆🍑🔥

Y/n: we’re friends 😒

Astoria: Really?

Y/n: yes really. Why?

Astoria: I don’t know. He’s hot though.

Y/n: Do you like him?

Three dots appeared on her screen again before vanishing.

Astoria: yes?😣

Now it was her turn to type and erase. Her thumbs did a little dance around her keypad and as she thought of an appropriate reply.

Astoria: I’m gonna back off if you like him. I just thought I’d come clean with you. That’s all.

Y/n: I don’t like him like that.

Astoria: you sure?

Y/n: yes.

Saturday 5:56 P.M

Draco: Astoria me if I wanted to go get coffee later

Y/n: Oh.

Draco: I told her I have plans to study for the final exams with you.

Y/n: we can reschedule if you’d like

Draco: Why would I want that?

Sometimes, people say things without thinking it through and regret it later. This was that moment for her.

Y/n: I don’t know. Look, you should go get coffee with her if you want to. We have covered more than half of the suggested readings anyway.

Draco: Okay then.

Y/n: Okay then.

****

Two weeks ago

Draco didn’t go for coffee with Astoria.

At around twelve in the morning, she heard a knock on her door. And of course, it’s Draco sanding in front of her, minus the usual coffee.

“I don’t want to study right now, go awa—”

He stepped into the room and crashed his lips into hers without warning and she stumbled a little hitting her coat hanger.

His mouth is hot on hers and his hands are firm and knotted into the hairs at the nape of her neck.

“If you think this will make me agree to studying with you, you’re wrong.” She said in between kisses. “I have seen your test scores, you don’t need me.”

He backed away and looked her straight into the eyes and her legs suddenly felt like they were made out of soggy spaghetti. She would never get used to his eyes. If he was in fact a constellation, his eyes were Eltanin. The brightest star.

“But I do.” He said, his voice gravelly. “I do need you.”

***

Day before Yesterday

His Human Anatomy book is currently left face down on the floor next to the two styrofoam coffee cups along with the torn remains of her lace panties.

This time, they were at his apartment.

After the late night kiss, things had kind of escalated.

They’d spent a few days acting like it had never happened until lust bubbled over them and poured out in never ending abundance.

He had been reading about the human heart when she had kissed him and now she was in his bed.

She knew she’d have to leave soon.

In between the softness of his lips pressed onto the base of her neck as she watched his chest heave up and down in quiet contentment, she must have lost track of time.

He smelled of soap, aftershave and a promise of a heartbreak that can leave a person crippled with agonising pain. She inhaled the heady, seductive scent once and wondered if she could call herself a masochist if she secretly enjoyed the idea of her heart getting broken by him.

Draco opened only one of his eyes to look at her as if to make sure the moment was real. When he saw her, his head fell back onto the pillow and he let out a quiet breath.

“So you are real.”

“So I am.” She said, chuckling as she shifted her body weight away.

The sky was getting darker and darker, racing towards nightfall. She knew she was going to have to get up and leave any minute now and the idea of it pained her.

How could she convince herself to leave when he was reaching for her hand the moment she tried to step out of bed? Draco looked at her as if he was pleading her to stay and she was forced to swallow the lump forming in her throat.

Even while they were having sex, she had told him that she loved him and he had never said it back to her.

She wouldn’t be able to hook up with him in a casual sense.

She didn’t want to.

“I can’t stay, it wouldn’t be appropriate.” She sighed, gently pulling her arm away so she could pick up her bra from the foot of the bed.

He had left a blueish purple bruise on her neck and she felt a sharp prickle in her heart when she remembered the way he dipped her head back so he could plant rough kisses all across her jaw.

“I’d better get going.” She said to him and he jerked from the bed to meet her gaze.

“Will I see you tomorrow?”

She took a moment to contemplate.

Of course she wanted to come back tomorrow even though her head kept telling her she shouldn’t. So for safe measure, she decided to put an end to this for her own sake.

“I can’t.” She answered, trying to keep a cool exterior. “I’m sorry.”

“You're sorry?”

“I’m sorry this happened and I’m sorry I love you. I wish I could take all it back.”

“You don’t mean that.” He shook his head.

“I do.”

She picked up the remainder of her clothes and left, closing the door the the idea of them forever.

****

Today

Everyone is wearing black and she hates it. She doesn’t want to wear another article of black clothing for the next decade.

His mother, Narcissa greets her at the entrance. She is just as beautiful as her name.

“I’m so sorry for your loss, Mrs. Malfoy.”

“Thank you for coming on such short notice. Draco always talked about you and I thought he would have liked it if you came.”

“He talked about me?” Her voice comes out rugged and shaky. She is dazed that this is even happening. On her drive here, she had convinced herself that it was all a nightmare but now it feels too real to be a nightmare.

“Every time he came down to the manor to see me.” Nascissa sniffles into a tissue. “He wasn’t supposed to drive down here yesterday. He came here to get a book about constellations from our library. Said it was important.”

She can’t breathe. The world is getting smaller and smaller.

“The book he took from the library perished with him it seems but the police was able to retrieve this book from the back seat of his car.” Narcissa hands her a book and leaves greet two people just entering before she can say anything back.

It is his Anatomy book, worn around the edges after being carried around in his bag too often.

The pages fall open to a page about the human heart. There, under an anatomically correct diagram of a human heart are four words she would never get to hear him say.

“I love you too.”

“I love you too.”

“I have always loved you.”

Tears flow down in violent streams across her cheeks as she flips to the next page.

In his handwriting, she sees the names of the two brightest stars of the Dragon Constellation.

Eltanin

Aldibain

He had circled El from Eltanin and Ain from Aldibain and scribbled Elain in cursive next to them.

She had never explained to him why she’d picked Elain that night but he had somehow figured it out. She guesses the conclusion of Elain was drawn with the help of the book of constellations.

Sobbing, she hugs his anatomy book in her chest and weeps till her eyes are bloodshot and irritated.

Back in the time of the ancient Egyptians, Thuban aka Alpha Draconis, used to be the pole star. Looking up at it would point to the true geographical north.

Then, there was a slight wobble in the Earth’s axis causing Polaris to be the new pole star.

Draco is not dead.

Not to her.

In about 23,000 years, the earth will drift and Thuban will be the pole star again

She tells herself that her time without him on this earth is but a shift in her axis. There will come a time when she’ll see him again.

For Draco is forever above the horizon.

Draco never sets.

****

End notes

She was supposed to die but I did a swap in the final draft. I have never ever killed off Draco in a story and writing this physically pained me.

Soz about my story spam. Feedback is always appreciated

[chandelier-s-notebook]

The Flowers' Breath

AO3 Link (2.3k, T)

Hello Witcher people. I have a geraskier hanahaki fic for you. FYI, it is very angsty and there is none of the communicationing things, and it does in fact end in MCD. My bad. Sorry about that.

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

There’s a certain tragedy to falling in love. That rush of adrenaline before catapulting off the edge into a blissful freefall. You hope you fall forever, so that the momentum doesn’t kill you when the ground rises to meet you.

Jaskier wished his love wasn’t all consuming. He wished to be able to love easily and freely, so that his fall lasted but a few short moments. Wherein he would be able to simply pull himself to his feet, and dust himself off before carrying on.

Unfortunately, destiny had other plans.

Jaskier fell hard and fast for his Witcher. At first it was companionship, then friendship, then finally he fell into a love that burned his very soul from the inside out.

Or it could have, if he’d have let it.

When he’d met Geralt for the first time in that tavern, he was but an eighteen year old boy. When the Witcher mentioned he should write songs about true stories, Jaskier took it as an invitation to trail along beside him. After being punched in the balls, Jaskier was cautious to follow. It took him hours to realise the Witcher was accepting of his presence. Jaskier picked at his lute and hummed a tune, as all bards do, to pass the time.

Jaskier assumed Geralt would drop him off at that tavern once this journey ended. Once he had his story, and would be able to do as he said he would: tell the tales of the White Wolf rather than the Butcher of Blaviken. Instead, Geralt sat through Jaskier’s first performance of Toss a Coin and left all the coins he was tossed that night on Jaskier’s bedside. From then on they’d become companions, occasional partners to travel the Path with.

Jaskier had heard of the flowers’ breath. He’d grown up with it. He’d lost a great many of his youthful classmates to the damned sickness. Children who weren’t loved enough by their mothers or fathers filled the temple’s medical ward. Girls with broken hearts, and boys with shattered prides cycled through the one at school on a weekly basis.

He’d never entered that ward for his own budding, but he’d come for a myriad of other reasons.

At the temple he would come in as amusement for those in their final moments. He would bring them one last reason to smile. He would sing lullabies and the less crass tavern songs to ease the ache. He continued to do so when his studies took him to Oxenfurt. He’d sing for those who couldn’t catch themselves and stop from falling further.

At school they’d learned to identify the smell of flowers; to bring their classmates to the medical ward; and try to find a solution for the fickle issue of love before the hacking came. Jaskier’s habit of bedding whomever he pleased started early, he had to turn down a fair amount of confessions in Oxenfurt’s ward.

With how often he graced the medical ward’s halls, they started to allow him to administer soothing potions and balms. They’d give him the task of cleaning up the petals, bile, and blood that missed the bucket resting at each person’s bedside; a penance for bringing so many into the ward. Those he brought all bounced back in a timely manner. Jaskier hadn’t killed anyone yet, a track record he hoped to keep.

Eventually he asked to be taught to make the medicine himself, and the nurses would never turn down another set of hands. Especially ones they knew to be capable.

That’s why he was able to care for himself when the first tufts of dandelion fluff affected themselves during a particularly bad coughing fit just before the betrothal feast of Princess Pavetta.

Geralt was a hard man to read. He said he never needed anybody. Yet every time they crossed paths Geralt would let him finish his set before practically grabbing him by the scruff of his neck on to their next adventure. Sometimes the Witcher tied together his loose before picking him up, but he’d always get pissy if Jaskier moved onto the next town without him.

Jaskier called upon their friendship when he was asked to perform in Cintra. To be a protector of sorts, but instead of monsters on the road it was for lords at a feast.

That night, alone in his bed, Jaskier hacked up his first flowers. Jaskier stared at his hands in horror. He’d noticed the smell before. Every winter when Geralt left him for Kear Morben the air would fill with a subtly bittersweet tange, whispers of citrus and rose clinging to his skin, dissipating within the month.

During their journey to Cintra, Jaskier ignored the flowers. He called what he felt for Geralt friendship, and left it at that. They arrived a day before the feast. Jaskier found the brewery and made himself a soothing potion. He kept it in his pocket, and drank it right before his performance.

Jaskier had seen the flowers’ breath take away many people. He didn’t want to become one of them, but he also didn’t want to lose his love for Geralt.

The problem with not identifying love, is that it grows uncontrollably. It roots in your heart, in your brain, in your soul, and in your lungs until you cannot breathe. When Jaskier let himself realise he was in love, he’d already been falling for two decades.

He’d also received a rejection harsher than any he’d delivered as a boy, and been stranded on a mountain.

In order to feel the full force of his emotions, to be able to process the fight properly, Jaskier needed to admit he was in love with his Witcher. That his Witcher didn’t love him back, and found him a nuisance. Jaskier coughed up his body weight in dandelions. His old solace was that there was no bile or blood.

The dwarfs were the ones to find him. To hoist him up on their shoulders and pilfer his pockets to find enough coin to buy him a soothing potion. They stayed with him for a week before they too moved on.

He’d given the spiel enough times, at school, to know the tips and tricks needed to catch oneself. The problem was that Jaskier didn’t want that, nor did he want to confess and hope for a favourable outcome.

What’s the point of hope when you know your love is unrequited? When your lover calls you his bard rather than his dear friend, even when you’ve spent more time with him than any of those bestowed with the title.

Instead Jaskier didn’t let himself think of Geralt. He threw himself into his role as the Sandpiper. He drank until he had to turn the bottom of the bottle up. He slept in as many beds as he could afford. He sang his old songs and allowed himself to write one more about his love—his broken love—before finding other stories to tell.

All the while he coughed up dandelions.

He started drinking the soothing potions before he felt the first pains. After Princess Pavetta’s betrothal feast, he put aside a portion of all subsequent funds to purchase the ingredients to make his medicine. It didn’t slow the sickness, but it made sure the sickness didn’t hurt him. The flowers crawling up his throat would never stop him from singing. The roots slowly growing in his stomach stole more and more of his energy with each passing year, but he couldn’t feel their piercing growth.

Jaskier never did end up catching himself. He never stopped falling in love with his Witcher. The first red stained tufts arrived that winter in Kaer Morhen. When he saw Geralt, Yennefer, and Ciri curled up together, a happy little family, after all the excitement had passed. He realised there was no place for him; the Witcher, the witch, and the princess didn’t need a constant nuisance on top of the rest of their problems that were bound to crop up.

What use was someone who didn’t know how to fight and would need constant protection? Who would want to keep a blissfully normal human around?

Jaskier slipped out as soon as the snow started to thaw.

The years passed and Jaskier kept coughing up dandelion tufts, no bile, very minimal blood.

He found if he didn’t think about Geralt, things were okay. He still felt weak from the flowers growing within his flesh. If he didn’t drink his soothing potions, unimaginable pain met him. Eventually he was required to rub a soothing balm on his throat every few days lest he lose his ability to sing.

But it was manageable.

He was surviving.

He’d been going on for years, painful, brutal years, but years nonetheless. He’d lasted much longer than those children in the medical ward. He figured it was because his love wasn’t unconditional, it was a bittersweet love: loving when you knew you weren’t loved in return. He often wondered why Geralt’s lack of love wasn’t killing him faster.

He found his answer on a chance meeting with Triss Marigold.

Jaskier travelled to Cintra for Princess Cirilla’s coronation. He knew that if he made a big enough fuss with the guards he’d be brought to someone who recognised him, and he would be allowed to watch from a decent seat. Instead he stayed in the town below, celebrating with the humans for their new queen. He also celebrated with the elves that had stayed, toasting to new life and new prosperity.

Perhaps his meeting with Triss wasn’t quite so chance, but why she was down in the town and not up in the castle was beyond him.

“Geralt was a broken man after you left Kaer Morhen without a word.”

“Was he now?”

“He nearly tore apart everything the Witchers had just fixed.”

“I doubt that.”

“You weren’t there.”

“No. I wasn’t.”

Geralt cared enough about him to keep him alive, to keep the bile at bay, but not enough for the flowers to leave entirely.

“Would you like to come up to the castle with me? Be my plus one? I’m sure Ciri would love to have you. Yennefer has been complaining that no one sings Toss a Coin properly. And Geralt will be happy to know you’re alive.”

Jaskier declined with a coughing fit of dandelion tufts and blood. He smiled weakly at Triss, producing a handkerchief to wipe his mouth, and calling a barmaid to take away his plate.

“Jaskier.”

“Tell him I’m alive.” Jaskier was lifted out of his stool by nearby elves who wrongly assumed his cough was due to a rejection from Triss. “Tell Ciri she’ll make a great Queen.”

“And Yennefer?” Triss called.

“Tell her why I’m never coming back.” Jaskier let himself be taken to a healer.

There’s a certain tragedy to falling in love. It happens when the ground rises to meet you.

Or perhaps, when the ground finally arrives to greet you.

Or better yet, when you relieve the ground of its duty to wait for you.

Jaskier doesn’t die of the flowers’ breath.

His old, frail, dying body finds its way to Cintra one winter. He causes a scene, demanding to see Yennefer. “I’m her favourite sing-songy twit.”

His hair is grey. His skin is wrinkled. His posture is poor. His lute is nowhere to be found.

Yennefer recognises him anyway. “What is my bard still doing on the other side of the gate?” she demands. “Where have you been Jaskier?” she hisses as she slips a strong youthful arm around him.

“Travelling.”

“Let’s get you into a bed. Then I’ll fetch Geralt fro—Jaskier?”

He can’t clear his throat as quickly as he used to. He coughs up red stained dandelion tufts. They splatter the ground in front of them.

Jaskier can feel Yennefer freeze.

He wipes his mouth and chuckles weakly. “Sorry about the hem of your dress.”

“I don’t care about this dress, Jaskier!” Yennefer shakes out of her stupor and elects to take him to the medical ward.

After a moment he asks quietly, “Did you not know?”

 “Was I supposed to?”

“I encountered Triss before Ciri’s coronation. She found out, and I told her to tell you.”

“Well she didn’t. She said you said to tell Geralt that you were alive, to tell Ciri you believed in her, and to tell me that you weren’t coming back.” Yennefer pushes a door open with magic five paces before they reach it. “She refused to tell me why.”

“Oh.”

Yennefer lightly pushed him into a bed in the carner, giving them privacy. “There was no bile, you still have time.”

Jaskier chuckles bitterly. “Do you know how old I am Yennefer?”

Her eyes widen.

“I’m not dying of the flowers’ breath, Yennefer. I’m human. I’m dying of old age. Geralt can’t save me.”

“How long have you loved him?” she pleads anyway.

Jaskier finds it funny, he’s an old man and the witch hasn’t aged a day even though she is much older than he. “My first flowers came up when I was twenty-seven.”

“How did you survive that long?

“I burned my memories of my Witcher, but I never put out the flame.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

Jaskier coughs weakly.

Yennefer makes a broken sound. “Stay alive a little longer, bard. I’m sending down Ciri, then I’m fetching Geralt.”

- - -

Queen Cirilla was never given the opportunity to form a close bond with Jaskier. During her childhood Jaskier used to come to Cintra every winter to sing to her, and the court, but mainly to her. At Kaer Morhen he’d admitted that he’d done it to look after Geralt’s Child Surprise when he refused to bow down to their shared destiny.

She’d heard countless stories of the bard told to her by both Geralt and Yennefer. They spoke of their bard with such fondness that she felt she’d known him her whole life.

Queen Cirilla bursts through the doors of the Cintran medical ward. She runs towards the corner filled with the bittersweet aroma of citrus and rose. She drops to her knees at his bedside. She clasps his fallen hand in hers: cold. Jaskier is gone.

Jaskier may have survived the flowers’ breath, but he still died alone with an unrequited love.

[essay-istic]

“And anyway, you shouldn’t worry

about discs. That’s healthy.”

“What you sayin’?”

“Make your tunes, record ‘em, wipe over the discs, reuse ‘em. Wipe the samples. Makes you have to find new sounds for each new tune, means you can’t go back after it’s been put down on tape and constantly re-edit everything. Keeps everything fresh.”

Tyrone thinks about this, thinks about the half-broken Akai sampler back in his bedroom. Thinks about the days he spent combing through his vinyl collection, searching for sounds he could take and use, building a library that spans the dozen or so ancient 3.5-inch floppies he spent years tracking down. He thinks about the hours he spends trawling through that library when working on something, trying to find that elusive sound that would make the tune complete, and how often he’d fail. Thinks about how he’d do whatever he could to try to warp and meld those samples into something else; running them through his small collection of effects pedals, recording and rerecording them onto ancient cassettes to make them compressed and distorted, transmitting them over the station’s FM transmitter and resampling them off his auntie’s tiny radio to wrap them in distant hiss and static. And he thinks about his attempts to make his own sounds: drumming on kitchen pots and pans, jacking an old busted set of headphones into the 950’s mic input and dangling them out his bedroom window to catch the staccato rain patterns, the filter sweeps of tenth-story breezes, the shouts and cries of people down in the streets.

Maybe College has a point.

Mike certainly thinks he’s got one. “See? That was the problem. That’s what I’m always sayin’. There was no limits before, right?

Tyrone looks at him, unsure. “Right . . . ?”

“See . . . look. Before the crash, right? Nobody was using hardware setups anymore. Everyone was on software. You could get it just by fucking blinking, right? You could get any software you wanted, that’d do anything you wanted. That’d give you any sound you could think of, pretty much. Unlimited possibilities. That was what was wrong, right?”

“It was?”

“Yeah. It was. It fucking was. Think about it. People could do what they liked, anything. It’s why the music became so self-indulgent, so undisciplined, and then so weirdly formulaic. Good art is produced under strict limits. Forces you to work with what you’ve got, to focus, right? There was no focus at the end. No control or vision. Just lots of people fucking about but ultimately following each other’s leads because they were drowning in choices. Unlimited possibilities.”

Tyrone thinks about this now. Sees Mike’s point, but ain’t too sure. Mike annoys him when he talks like this, because Tyrone knows all about limits. He’s sick and tired of limits. “I dunno,” he says. “I’d like just one or two possibilities, you get me?”

College smiles at him, more polite aging sympathy from the first generation that knows they had it better, and can’t muster the gall to deny it. “Don’t worry, Ty, it’ll come together. Just keep at it.”

  “Yeah.” Tyrone shrugs. “I guess.”

Tim Maughan, Infinite Detail, MCD x FSG Originals – Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2019.

[gabrielmanagement]

Gabriel Management presents the new High Roller Records release: MESSIAH "Fatal Grotesque Symbols - Darken Universe" MLP and MCD out on August 7, 2020 Messiah were formed in 1984 and issued two truly ground breaking records: "Hymn To Abramelin" in 1986 and "Extreme Cold Weather" a year later. In the early ‘90s the band signed to Noise Records, label and issued three albums. 26 years after the last studio album Messiah are about to unleash the successor to their "Underground" record from 1994. The album is called "Fracmont" and will be issued by High Roller Records in a short while. To shorten the waiting time, there will be an EP containing three songs not to be found on the forthcoming album. For starters, said EP contains re-recorded versions of "Space Invaders" from the band’s 1986 debut album, as well as the title track from the second album. The title track of the EP is called "Fatal Grotesque Symbols - Darken Universe", of which main man and guitarist Brögi says: "The new song won’t be on the album. It does fit in very well with the re-recordings of the two old tunes. "Fatal Grotesque Symbols – Darken Universe" sounds pretty much like old school Messiah. Even my solo part goes back to the very early days of the band as it is quite chaotic. The lyrics for the song are really old, I did write them for a different project though. Our singer Andy Kaina re-arranged the text and now the whole song is a full-blown Messiah tune". Listen: https://soundcloud.com/high-roller-records-2/messiah-fatal-grotesque-symbols-darken-universe-official

[bucksmusicandevent]

V Festival Set For A Re-Brand

This article from IQ Magazine.

After 22 years, Virgin Group is ending its relationship with V Festival, Virgin founder Richard Branson announced today, with V 2017 the last year of the UK festival in its current guise.

“V Festival has always been a special weekend for everyone at Virgin,” says Branson. “We’ve been proud to sponsor V Festival for the past two decades and there have been some incredible performances on the stage. Now, after 22 very enjoyable and successful years, 2017 was Virgin’s last V Festival.

V Festival, promoted by Live Nation, Metropolis Music, MCD Productions and SJM Concerts, debuted in 1996 as twin festivals in Hylands Park, Chelmsford, and Victoria Park in Warrington, with headliners Pulp, Paul Weller and Elastica. The northern England leg moved to Leeds in 1997, before settling in its current home of Weston Park in Staffordshire in 1999.

Branson describes working with the festival as “a brilliant journey filled with great people, fun times and exceptional music”, but says Virgin is now focused on “look[ing] at new ways we can disrupt the industry to ensure music is a force for good.”

“AFTER 22 VERY ENJOYABLE AND SUCCESSFUL YEARS, 2017 WAS VIRGIN’S LAST V FESTIVAL”

“Virgin already is investing in exciting music initiatives such as Sofar Sounds, who bring artists to perform live in an intimate venue and give you the chance to just be still and listen,” he continues. “Seeing my first Sofar gig reminded me of the early days of Virgin Records, where we sat on beanbags and drifted away with the music as we found new bands to sign and fall in love with.

“Relaunched music station Virgin Radio is also going strong in the UK, along with our thriving radio stations with hundreds of thousands of listeners tuning in from all over the world.

“We’re really excited about the future ahead and can’t wait to share our plans with music lovers across the globe.”

Speaking to Music Week, Festival Republic MD Melvin Benn confirms the festival will continue under a new name over the same weekend in August, with plans to expand from two to three days at both sites. Programming, meanwhile, will “very much continue to have a pop and dance focus”.

Live Nation bought a stake in V in 2013, while Metropolis joined the company this January.

[edmonddisco]

Mississippi Fred McDowell et Johnny Woods. Respectivement chanteur-guitariste et chanteur-harmoniciste. Deux prodiges du Delta Blues.

« Mama says I’m crazy » ou une session 100% acoustique, chaleureuse, enlevée datant de 1967, organisée par le producteur Georges Mitchell et parue chez Fat Possum Records.

Les deux hommes ne sont pas des débutants. A cette époque, McDowell a 63 ans, et Woods, 50. On se croirait à une fête improvisée après une journée harassante, dans la maison familiale, les gamins demandant aux deux pépés de croiser le fer. Et les pépés sont encore verts. La voix de McDowell est d’ une âpreté incroyable ; son groove, à grands renforts d’open-tuning (souvent open de ré) et de bootleneck, est d’une intensité hypnotique. Les cadences sont infernales et machinales, comme une locomotive qui avance sans rétroviseur et à toute vapeur. Johnny Woods, au son pur et rural, sans jamais ajouter d’ électricité à son harmonica, souffle, soutient, ponctue. Les deux , à l’unisson, nous font vibrer, avec cette musique des temps reculés, primitive, dissonante.

Immédiatement, on adore ou on déteste car le slide et le ruine-babines des  maitres, sans concessions, provoquera l’oreille ou touchera profondément au cœur.

Une belle acquisition, à découvrir à la médiathèque (cote : 1.1 Mcd).

[morganbelarus]

‘Bachelor’ Contestant Tracy Shapoff Apologizes For Old Tweets Betches

It’s been a few days since Chris Harrison first unveiled the contestants on the new season of The Bachelor, and we’ve all had time to form our opinions. Of course, we gave you our immediate breakdown of the 30 ladies fighting for Colton’s attention (ew), but there’s always more to the story. The season doesn’t premiere for weeks, but we’ve already had one contestant fall into a classic trap of the newly famous: offensive old tweets resurfacing. That’s right, the season hasn’t even started, but one of the contestants, Tracy Shapoff, appears to have a racist past that has already been exposed.

Just as a quick refresher, here’s Tracy:

View this post on Instagram

Drinking up all the red wine in Firenze 🍷 #eurotravel #Italy

A post shared by Tracy Shapoff (@tshapoff) on Jul 17, 2018 at 2:24am PDT

Tracy is 31 years old, and most of the tweets in question are from 2010 and 2011. Because I’m amazing at math, that means that Tracy was 23-24 when she said all of these things. I’m not saying people don’t grow and change with time, but a 24-year-old should know that it’s not okay to be racist on Twitter. Here are a couple of Tracy’s greatest hits:

Omg, this one is so bad. First of all, I think “mcds” is referring to McDonald’s, but please help me out in the comments if I’m missing some important slang. It’s never appropriate to call someone out on their race or criticize them for not speaking English, and we should really all know that, especially given that most Americans can only speak English (and often poorly, at that).

Here’s another one I love:

No no no no no. Obviously, we don’t use the R-word. That’s very bad. Additionally, what do I care if someone else gets liposuction? It’s your body, do whatever you want! If I could afford to have a procedure like that and not have to go to the gym, damn right I would.

So yeah, these tweets are terrible. And because Tracy is already getting a crash course on being a pseudo-celeb, she dutifully issued a Notes app apology on her Instagram. It’s a little long for my taste (two slides? come on girl!), but it does sound sincere, and she says all the things you’re supposed to say in this situation.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Tracy Shapoff (@tshapoff) on Dec 7, 2018 at 3:11pm PST

The tweets are definitely damning, but at least her apology doesn’t sound fake. For me though, the most important old tweet from Tracy is this one, in which she questions the very notion of television dating shows:

Jesus Christ people, delete your tweets before you make it on The Bachelor, it’s not that hard! Honestly the best strategy is to just slash and burn your entire account and start anew before you head into filming. Now we’ll definitely have to wonder whether Tracy is there for the right reasons, because she literally tweeted about how these shows are garbage. Given the track record of this show, she’ll probably end up being the winner. How many other contestants on this season will be canceled before it even begins? Stay tuned!

Images: ABC; @tshapoff / Instagram (2); @tshapoff / Twitter (3)

Editor's Picks

A Breakdown Of Colton's Contestants On 'The Bachelor'

Original Article : HERE ; This post was curated & posted using : RealSpecific

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‘Bachelor’ Contestant Tracy Shapoff Apologizes For Old Tweets Betches was originally posted by Latest news - Feed

[harriettstawell-blog]

What To Do When My Child Is located? 13 Ways To React, Prevent, And Strengthen Honest.

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The root from the word is a-pall or 'making ashen' - an additional recommendation to the 'illuminating' task that religions are actually supposed to perform, even though words has tackled one more indicating in today times (to turn somebody pale along with surprise). Definitely, through his very own specifications at least, he does should have to be the God and Professional in his lovemaking and also his job. Researches signify that the amount of abused kids perpetuating the cycle of abuse is far lower than previously believed. Also inscribed in his memory is actually the orgasm of the 1974 time when he and Brian Higgins were neck-and-neck entering into the final round southern Western Facility Trials Champion, at the last part of the day John required a 'tidy' to grab the title - sadly he had an unfortunate '3' obliging him to take, again, the runner-up area. Sidhars are felt to praise God Shiva below; Girivalm on a moon time is famous right here. The audio is additionally incomplete, there are cuts in between every tune and also one can assume that Child On time and also a repetition were actually either not documented or not played probably because of being an assistance act.

' I really did not bid you good-night that night, and also I didn't most likely to Wuthering Levels the following: I preferred to go particularly; however I was actually strangely thrilled, and also feared to hear that Linton was dead, at times; as well as in some cases disliked the notion from running into Hareton. Editor's Keep in mind: After a life-time invested as a reporter, journal editor, and even university supplement lecturer, certainly not once in my career possess I came across the kinds of misuse specificed below and in different Compensation for Jeff blogs by managers. The bottom product line is that, in this age of open and abundant relevant information, learners can easily come to be inspired to accessibility, contemplate, and reveal understanding that they directly locate valuable. I am tracking mcd site from the past 7 days however I still may not see the label of my baby in childbirth certificate. Once in a while the church workplace gets concerns for a household genealogy search. Simply puts, you don't must hang around till you possess the excellent life to be happy - you can select it today through paying attention to just what you are actually thankful for as well as promoting your little ones to perform the very same. Since the brand new parents likely presently have much of the ordinary products they'll need for the 1st few months, you can easily provide a gift that are going to assist to deliver them with a little bit more opportunity to focus on their brand-new family and also relax throughout their couple of seconds alone. Youngsters will neglect to associate the effect along with the misdeed if there is actually too a lot from a lag time between the act and pretty-lifestyle.info also the effect. One set from applications off ICA for Singapore Citizenship application as well as the called for documents. Condition where your workplace or desk is located and invite everybody to drop in to satisfy you individually.

[graffiti-vibe-blog]

Goresoerd Release New Album ‘Antikeha’

A project that started out in 2004 as two guys playing and experimenting with grindcore, Goresoerd has quickly evolved into the spearhead of intelligent, vicious and tongue-in-cheek extreme music in the Estonian scene. Hectic, hyper-driven and entertaining live shows have paved the way for the band’s success.

GORESOERD blasted off as an idea for a project after some collaboration between Stig and Kari of Symbolic State in late 2004. Back then it was just for fun and experimenting, a short foray from their main band. They used a drum machine, as it gave them some advantage —skipping the part of a real drummer’s trials and tribulations in the studio. In the beginning it was meant to be grind, but after inducing humor and even some elements of parody, they found themselves head over heels committed to the project.

After releasing a 6-track MCD “Nekromantik” in 2006 under a nascent label Stuka Sound, Goresoerd drifted away from the initial grind-death-grotesquerade. The new material, a truly eclectic feast of 17 hilarious and extreme tracks, with influences varying from mainstream rock to crust hardcore, entitled “Goremarket Mid-Prices”, was released in 2007 by Estonia’s biggest metal music label, Nailboard Records.

In February 2010 Goresoerd unleashed its second full-length, entitled "Tüdruk ja Surm" ("Maiden And Death"), backed by an unerring sense of hit-worthiness and the solid punch delivered in the lyrics by the legendary and infamous Estonian writer Sven Kivisildnik — resulting in a bizarre "rock opera" involving lethally precise death metal riffing, catchy melodic soloing and violent, varied vocal hooks, wherein all possible borders between the real and the grotesque come down in a sickly bout of gallows-humour.

September 2013 - “Asülum” (“Asylum”) is released, which is far more diverse and copious than previous albums. With their latest release, the group has also drastically raised the bar in terms of production quality as proven by pre-released singles "Kuningas Direktor", "Asülum" and "Masin". Music videos for two of the forementioned conquered the charts of "Estonian Top Music Videos" on several occasions as well.

The twelve tracks pack a punch on full throttle, coasting on ironic lyrics, melodic leads and atmospheric synths, giving the release its fine tuned balance between raw energy and progressive sound.  "Asülum" LP was released in collaboration with Crunch Industry and Inverse Records.

In March 03 2017 the band released "Antikeha" ("Antibody"), its fourth album. The poison green publication is like an expansion of the previous long play, where characteristic aggressiveness is fulfilled with melodic vocals at times. Video single "Neetud" is a good example for that. "Antikeha" will be released by Crunch Industry and distributed by Inverse Records.

News story provided by Inverse Records

[teriharriet4-blog]

Singl Theme-- WordPress.com.

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[jguidein]

MPSC Junior Civil Judge Recruitment 2018 | @www.mpsc.gov.in Apply Online Various Jobs

MPSC Junior Civil Judge Recruitment 2018

A latest notification has been announced via Maharashtra Public Service Commission as an MPSC Junior Civil Judge Recruitment 2018 for fill up various latest jobs for the Posts of Junior Civil Judge and Judicial Magistrate. Those aspirants who want to make a career in Maharashtra Public Service Commission they those contenders can go on the advertisement section and read out the complete page to apply for MPSC Junior Civil Judge Recruitment 2018. Contenders if you want to recruit as Junior Civil Judge and Judicial Magistrate Posts they applicants can apply via visiting the official web portal of Maharashtra Public Service Commission. And then those contenders apply online through the online application form. The applicable and dynamic applicants can apply via the latest notification that is circulated online on or before the due date that is given below. Any eligible and interested applicants if being late to fill up the online applications they the Maharashtra Public Service Commission their application form will not be accepted after the last date, so apply as soon as possible. Associated information regarding MPSC Junior Civil Judge Recruitment 2018 is delivered below. Applicants who are planning to do Job in Maharashtra through apply this recruitment and get your dream job via our job information portal www.JobsBtao.in and stay tuned with us via this web page. Every visitors need to read the web page by watching every word to get up to date acknowledgments regarding the Maharashtra Public Service Commission upcoming recruitment. We’re also providing current information regarding MPSC Junior Civil Judge Recruitment 2018, therefore, applicants may keep continues on our website. As we all know, Maharashtra Public Service Commission is also commonly known as MPSC. To achieve completely accurate information in favor of MPSC Junior Civil Judge Recruitment 2018 such as educational qualification (शैक्षिक योग्यता), application fee (आवेदन शुल्क), important date (महत्वपूर्ण तारीख), vacancies details (रिक्तियों विवरण), process to apply (आवेदन कैसे करे), age limit (आयु सीमा), pay scale (वेतन विवरण), selection process (चयन प्रक्रिया) etc you need to visit this portal of www.JobsBtao.in.

www.mpsc.gov.in Recruitment 2018 Brief Details:

Organization Name: Maharashtra Public Service Commission Post Name: Junior Civil Judge and Judicial Magistrate Total: various Posts Last Date to Apply Online: Updated Soon

MPSC Junior Civil Judge Recruitment 2018 Highlights:

Vacancies Details (रिक्तियों विवरण): Sr. No Posts Name 1. Junior Civil Judge 2. Judicial Magistrate Education Qualification: Applicants should have LLB/ LLM degree or equivalent with good academic records from any repudiated University or Institution. How To Get Good Marks In Examination Age Limit (आयु सीमा): Age of the applying applicants should not be below 21 years and should not be above 35 years as on 01st July 2018. Relaxation and reservation in age will be decided as per government rules. Salary Details (वेतन विवरण): Selected applicants for the offered posts will receive salary details as per Maharashtra Public Service Commission norms which is mention in below table. Please have a look! Application Fee (आवेदन शुल्क): Candidates may pay their fee through Challan/ Debit card/ Credit card/ Net Banking/ CSC (Citizen Service Centre) in state bank of India. Unreserved candidates: Rs.373/- Reserved candidates: Rs. 273/-. Selection Process (चयन प्रक्रिया): Candidates will be shortlisted for the offered posts via applicant’s performance in Pre and Main Test and interview. On basis of performance in selection process merit list will be prepared. Interview Preparation Tips How to Prepare For Exam Last Time Study How to Apply (आवेदन कैसे करे)? Dear Candidates follow given below steps: Candidates, who want to apply against this recruitment they must register themselves on Maharashtra Public Service Commission website which is “www.mpsc.gov.in”. Now press on “Online Application” link. Go to ‘New User Registration’ Fill asked info in the registration form and enter on “Create User” button. Candidates may also read instructions carefully by pressing ‘Details Information’ link. After that, log in with new user and password. Candidates need to fill the application form with required and mandatory details. Applicants must upload Certificates regarding qualifications. Press on submit button & take a hard copy of the submitted form for future need. How To Fill Application Form MPSC Junior Civil Judge Recruitment Important Dates: Last Date for Submission of Application Form: Available Soon Last Date for Fee Payment: Updated Soon Tentative Date of Preliminary examination: Updated Soon Reminder: Dear Applicants, if you have any query regarding MPSC Junior Civil Judge Recruitment 2018 they can comment us through comment box. For more connected detailed information candidates may check the following links. MPSC Junior Civil Judge Recruitment Important Links: Official Advertisement Apply Online Official Website All Government Jobs MPPSC Recruitment 2018 RRB Bhopal Group D Recruitment 2018 SSC CPO Recruitment 2018 Jharkhand Home Guard Recruitment 2018 MP Police Recruitment 2018 APSC Forest Ranger Recruitment 2018 MCD Recruitment 2018 MAHAGENCO Recruitment 2018 Meghalaya Police Recruitment 2018 Manipur Police Constable Recruitment 2018 Read the full article

[slovenlyrecordings]

A ton of reviews just in courtesy of Terminal Boredom (they still hate 10" records):

ANMLS s/t LP Chilean street punko's who love to shout together - a lot and often. Reminiscent of 80's Spanish language boot-stompers Cicatriz, Eskorbuto and the like, but with added filth-blown guitars that are left tryna' cut through layers of amp cone dust and a seeping to the surface 70's rock cockpunch. The hardcore leanings and gang vocals calm a tad as the sides play on and I'm starting to hear echoes of John Reis riffage in the aptly titled "Instrumental" and the flip's opener, "V'amanos De La Ciudad". Thanks to "Pirata" they practically give you an Oi anthem at the end. Sort of a shock to see Slovenly head in this direction, as I'd expect the band to hook up with Lengua Armada, Sorry State or some other stateside stable of cellar dwellers. Is Ruleta Rusa still active? These cats should team up with them for a US stretch. Either way, I have no real knowledge of international hardcore (outside of Italy), so I'm gonna' shut up now and let you dig in on your own.(RSF)

The Cavemen "Nuke Earth" LP "Nuke Earth" is the third time these sleaze-Zealanders have been found rifling through the rubbage bins of garage shock past to toss a full platter. The best tracks within float to the surface - kinda' like pull tabs or smoke butts floating in the fetid water of a gas station squeegee bucket - and scramble about, attempting to create something along the line of a budget-punker's K-Tel collection. These cavemanish boys crank things off with "Lust For Evil" a tune that's got one boot planted firmly in the Oblivians camp and the other can be found kicking the 'Tards squarely in the gonads. Leather-jacketed riff warriors, hopped up on CPC (get it?!) and unleashing dueling leads and hostile vibes aplenty. "Janey" lightens things a tinge with some boozy balladry and organ rottens the rock during tunes like "Batshit Crazy" and "Concrete Town" in a way that could bring both Lost Sounds lovers, Spits fanatics and tattooed MCD car-show greasers lovingly together for a sock hop. Duster-huffers will rejoice to the dum-dum Dictator clunk of "Chernobyl Baby" and "Thug" which reeling in a meaty Gizmos/Penetrators spew. "Dont Wanna Hang" strips veneers in guitar frazzle and New Bomb Turk velocity. It's like having the Las Vegas Shakedown start up again, right there on your very own turntable! The parts may be aftermarket, but there's gonna' be some paunchy yet pleased turkeys around these forums real soon. (RSF)

ぐうたら狂 Gūtara KYŌ s/t 10” Damn, this here is a firecracker! What lies within these grooves are obliterated Teengener-ized riffs, and demented psycho-wails, all walloping upside the punk velocity of something akin to prime 80's Gauze. "Drive" got a lead that's reminiscent of a garage slop take of an old Soundgarden tune (I'm dead serious!) and it's pokin' out of a deteriorating Stalin bootleg. "Daydream" and "It's Gotta Be You" ride along hardcore gallops, rendered futile due to some of the gnarliest production filth since Tim Kerr was knob twisting. The shining light in all this scree would be the soulful belter "Romance" that kicks off the flip. This gold star doom rocker features strained crooning and a truly putrid solo that's - of course - blown all to snuff. It wouldn't feel outta' place on that 'Tokyo Flashback' sampler at all. Fo' real tho' - this platter could clear the sinuses of the most jaded of High Rise fan. Hell, Gutara Kyo is good enough to make me overlook the fact these songs are pressed up on the lamest of all formats (the dreaded 10") with a goddamn dumb 45 hole. Hey Pete, knock it off! All snark aside, I'd still tell folks to buy this, even if it was only available on floppy disc. Scum Stats: 100 copies pressed up on red and black splatterwax.(RSF)

Hand & Leg s/t LP Greek duo doing their best impersonation of that gluey/Krauty/fuzz-buzzy sound that the French has dominated for the past decade. This co-ed bass and drums act strips their music down to the bleached bone, leaving the sorta' repetitive weed-wacker chops and threadbare beats that Wire fans should froth over. Standout tracks like "Dogshit Country" lighten the low plod load a smidge, letting the high strings shine as if Godheadsilo was taking on a Volt tune. "Bloody Hole" closes us shop in a full two minutes of tone drone and irritated wail before the "song" proper takes flight within a spattered cacophony of pie-plate thwack and chanted vocals. Soothing to one's skull as This Heat. Dig yer feet in the sand, people. Scum Stats: 100 on clear vinyl.(RSF)

Häxxan "The Magnificent Planet Of Alien Vampiro II"" LP Nasally Israeli psych-boogie, for the moderne youth market. The press release mentions playing with Ty and them Fuzz comparisons are pretty on point in these here grooves. They also trot out bratty, childlike pop tantrums that should speak to the Burgerooligans that follow these updates as well. What you mostly get on this is quiet/loud dynamics pushing out a Black Angels/Frijid Pink hybrid. There's quite a bit of local flavor in their guitar pyrotechnics, so world-beat freaks and psych aficionados should perk up. Most of it makes for a fine fried background rock, but nothing is really sticking to my maw. A couple of tracks do stand out - "Circle Of Quantum" and "Snakes In My Hair" - both nearly seared my eyebrows off like the best moments of C.A. Quintet "Trip Thru Hell" with swirling, woozy leads and vocals lost in the arid desert wind. The whole ride is easy to digest and makes for decent afternoon accompaniment, but gotta' say I wanted more like those two aforementioned tracks. Better than the countless Ty & Dwyer clones we've had to weather so far. Better than the King Gizzard knock-offs to come. Let's just be happy today.(RSF)

Νόμος 751 (Nomos 751) s/t LP Electroshok-rockers that clatter along like a Grecian Metal Urbain. Drum machine robot riddims and twisted rockabilly riffs fighting against various space trash splatter and the occasional Spits-take on skate punk. There's a Grande Triple Alliance vibe rippling underneath that's hard to shake as well as more than a couple nods in the early Red Mass direction I use to enjoy (long before that act stank it up with Mac Demarco's hair-footed guest spots). I should ramble more about the tracks involved, but my janky-assed computer's 'bout to crash for yet another twenty minute interval - so I'm just gonna' go pogo about like some metaloid mutant instead. Give 'er a go!(RSF)

Proto Idiot "Leisure Opportunity" LP How the hell did the Hipshakes connection escape me?! Proto Idiot is way less Oblivian and way more Adverts than the 'shakes ever were. This here's a jagged pop-gone-puke to tunes like "Better Way Of Life" and "Angry Vision" - the sorta' stuff Jaytard did solo and that Useless Eater kid slung about. Comparisons to Devoto-era Buzzcocks seems apt, and there's a tad of 'Chairs Missing' up in here too. Honestly, either this is a love letter to the entire UK punker past catalog or I'm just an asshole who thinks so 'cuz of the English accent. Hey - it's the GG King Of The UK! Still, I'm perplexed that I never knew the Hipshakes were related. I'm bad at this game. I'd way rather party with this Proto Idiot than those stuffy shirted Protomartyr's out there. Good Fun. 'Nuff said. Scum Stats: 100 on green vinyl.(RSF)

Subsonics "Flesh Colored Paint" LP In this time of reunions around the corner for every wang-dang-doodle of a band that falls under the Budget Rock blanket, it shocks me to no end that Atlanta's Subsonics have never even given up. I've evidently been in the dark for nearly a decade (Sorry Slovenly/Sorry Subsonics.) as "Flesh Colored Paint" is their eighth full length. The band continues to do what they do best - muggy southern stomp filtered through Marc Bolan flutter and a Cramps-ian cha-cha heel strut. This sorta' glitter shimmer fits snugly nestled in the crotch region, somewhere between American Death Ray, Danny & The Darleans and so on. They've always been in my peripheral and I've witnessed them bring quite a solid live revue in my times, but they've never seemed tough enough to break me during my boozy-fueled heyday. NOW - on the other hand - being older, wiser and actually warming up to the voice of Brian Ferry - this stuff is pretty damn sharp! I'm fully locked down on the track "Begging Hands" here, which proves beyond any doubt that these swingers are as big of fans of Radley Metzger's 'Score' skinflick as I am. Elsewhere they beat on the traps like a Black Time light, less set on grate and more on the grind. "Die A Little", "Cold Cold World" and "In The Black Spot" ride in the Velvet's lil' Reed wagon, possibly playing at the wrong pitch. "I Must Be Poisoned" and "I'm The Most Popular Boy In Town" are cut from the same girl group worship and sequenced catsuit that Kid Congo stitches together with his Pink Monkey Birds. "Permanent Thaw" fires off that Black-Angels-Death violin scrape along its woozy train track clack and tunes like "Why Should Anybody Care At All" feature squirrelly, ragged soloing, as if front-mouth and string-slinger Clay Reed was dry humping his gee-tar on the studio floor (and chances are, he did). A good party platter for the red eyed sect. Now while we're at it, let's wax up them early WorryBird CDs!(RSF)

The Monsieurs "Deux” LP Knowing how much I loved Tunnel Of Love - one of the finest bombastic blowouts to cross my blurred vision in the early aughts - I feel like a lamestain for sleeping on this act for so long. Well, I fixed that over the past few months. Here I am, warming by the fire during this wintry bluster and ingesting another fine Andy MacBain release. Between this stuff and the Andy California EP, he's keeping Slovenly's Gladiators on the garbage rock radar (not that they ever really fell of it in the first place). The opener "Burning Flame" and "I Will Run" are straight up crash/bang shards of garage violence and if you said to me these were lost Tunnel Of Love tracks, I wouldn't argue it one bit. Things chill and take pop-ier turns within tunes like "Suburban Girls" and "At The Hop". Not saying cutesy levels of pop, but there's a definite whaff of catchy albeit retched perfection ala' Nobunny or Ramones girl group grabs. The femmes on deck keep Andy's cock-swingin' machismo at bay, adding great touches of Toody-esque back ups, forceful fuzzed power chords and abusive can bashing. "Get Right Get Ready" is rears a Karp riff and shoves it, clawing smack into the face of some delirious Dollrod slop. That's not a bad place to be - crawling around in a metallic Danny Kroha muck. Wrapping this fast lil' fucker up is "My War", which brings all the above elements to a broil, splattering about like a scorched Love cover turned beat-punk brat psych and going gloriously wrong. A wooly ride. Will ride again. Scum Stats: 100 copies on orange.(RSF)

[thegroovethief]

Winter Showcase EP, on Pomegranate Sounds, out now! Just released this EP I wrote and produced with Scotty McD, so please tune in - hope you enjoy the music and of course your support is greatly appreciated:

Winter Showcase EP by Pomegranate Sounds

It is with great pleasure that we'd like to announce the birth of our second Pomegranate Sound! The Winter Showcase EP is a dub-drenched journey through the sounds and vibes of our Denver, Colorado, USA crew. Opener “Hippo’s Hop” brings it with a banging beat as well as featured guest Hijinx on the scratch. “Set Us Free” showcases a vocal duet: our own Scotty McD’s rugged delivery with the freshness of newcomer Mama Kush. The funky “I’m Green” and dreamy “Seems Minor” deploy cheeky, and then cheekier, samples for maximum effect. “Gem Jam” allows the guitar to explore a soundscape before the brooding power of “Ice Storm” takes center stage. Final cut “Sea Minor” shimmers about, coy yet upbeat, to conclude this first label showcase. Winter is… Pomegranate Sounds is a collaborative project promoting dub-laden vibes while connecting musical influences as eclectic as the infamous Hong Kong club night it takes its name from. After much incubation, here we are in the Year of the Rooster: record label, radio show, sound system, plus much more on the horizon. From Hong Kong to Colorado by way of France: Tree-Angles and The Groove Thief, with new partner Scotty McD, continue their creative explorations of audio and visuals.