#as an emo i have a right to refer to us as a cult

[cboffshore]

A look for when you're in your Accidental Cult Leader era. This is Soundcheck.

A one-off couture design - and matching playlist - for @nin-jay-go's 900 Followers DTIYS. Congrats on the milestone! I hope I did it some justice.

(It wouldn't be a Lila A original without my design notes under the cut.)

So! Superstar Rockin' Jay! One of my fave LEGO minifig designs of all time, and to be honest, I've been hunting for an excuse to revamp the look. Thankfully, this DTIYS was the perfect opportunity.

For the outfit itself, my basic plan of attack was to take the original DTIYS prompt image and ramp things up to eleven. Little orange touches on the face became sculptural shades and glorious, Gerard-Way-feather-boa-esque fringe; the lightning bolt lapel and bright spotlights blended into one giant, asymmetrical lapel. To bring in a little rock n' roll energy and reference the original Prime Empire avatar theming, I've anchored the sheer lightning arm fringe with black leather straps. Split bell bottoms lend a little retro energy and open up space for more sheer lightning fringe, as well as glitzy mosaic boots that hover on orange crystal platforms.

You may notice that the iconic smiley star pin has vanished. Well, not exactly vanished - again, the M.O. was to crank everything up, and that called for transforming the pin into an electrifying guitar (and custom stand!) It mirrors the outfit as a whole, with a sculpted orange starburst up top to match the shades and the same mosaic pattern on half of the smiley. I'm no expert in guitars, but I know electric ones have a lot of funky buttons, so I threw some around the eyes and mouth as a wink to post-movie Jay's freckles. When it's time to go acapella, there's a coordinating handheld microphone with a lightning bolt finger guard on the handle.

@nin-jay-go, you said you wanted songs for your SRJ playlist. Since I ignored the "draw him performing" rule (to be fair, you did say to draw this in my style and unfortunately I don't draw people in my style), Ig gave you twenty-one tunes that influenced this design. Either scan the Spotify code in the upper right corner or use this link to access it. I love including music with my art, so this was right up my alley! This is a curated, bright playlist with glam rock energy, killer guitar and vocal work, and a splash of classic emo trinity. More than a splash, actually. (In my defense, I saw Fall Out Boy live this summer, so I've been listening to a lot of Patrick Stump recently. In case you couldn't tell.)

#ninjaygodtiys900 #nin-jay-go #ninjago couture #ninjago prime empire #PLEASE give me feedback I love commentary

[heloflor]

I have to say, one thing I absolutely love about the Sam and Max Telltale games is the side characters and more specifically how they all have at least some “oddness” to them, which not only makes Sam and Max feel like they do belong in this town instead of being the outsiders other people react to, but it also makes it possible for the duo to form genuine friendships with some of those people (which is also helped by the continuity this trilogy has).

All of them are eccentric in their own way, I mean :

- Bosco is a paranoid conspiracy theorist and is afraid of enbies

- Sybil keeps changing professions, and between that and how she evolves in S2, it feels like she’s sometimes in her own world/gets in her own head a lot

(And also, between her being really nice to the titular duo and her overall personality, she and Max could easily be besties. I mean c’mon ! He always goes to stand near her + gets involved in her love life + the S3 finale. He’d 100% be her gay bff and also possibly babysitter since he likes kids so much !)

- Flint Paper is a lot like Sam and Max on the police brutality aspect (and the three of them working together is great. There’s a single braincell between the three and not a single one of them uses it. Except Sam occasionally, if he’s not too busy fanboying over his neighbor with Max)

- Superball (my beloved) feels like one of the more grounded characters but at the same time he’s never seen taken aback by the weird shit happening around him and has no issue rolling with it. He’s also pretty mysterious at times and even straight up teleports in 304

(I’m not going to mention his love of doors as him being eccentric because, between that and how he expresses emotions differently, plus the musical number and his voice impressions showing he has an artistic side, I can’t help but view him as autistic. Heck you can also add him taking the “please don’t hang up the phone” thing way too literally in S1. So the love for doors feels like a special interest)

- Jimmy and the rest of the rats are some kind of mafia or street gang

- The C.O.P.S. are a bunch of old sentient machines trying their best (also Buster Blaster reminds me of Lord Hater from Wander with the way he screams all the time and I love it !)

- Harry Moleman is a creep who somehow keeps getting involved in the story through new jobs

- The Soda Poppers are pretty self-explanatory (gotta love how everytime they show up I’m like “oh, it’s these assholes again…”)

- Hugh Bliss is a literal sentient bacteria cult leader

- Girl Stinky is a literal cake and apparently a mermaid ? Like, her design has always been mermaid-oriented but apparently it’s because she truly is one

- Grandpa Stinky is that kind of grumpy old man who can and will throw hands with a 13 years-old

- Abe is the douchy head of a broken sentient statue who can’t do anything right aside from speeches (and he gets lectured by the local married couple after messing up his relationship in S2, which I find very funny)

- Featherly is a talking actor chicken who was literally found at the beginning of the universe that one time for some reason ??? It was very funny tho

(Also off-topic and I’m not sure if this was on purpose or not but isn’t Featherly technically trans ? I mean, he’s explicitly told to be a chicken in S2, not a rooster, and is even capable of laying eggs, but he uses he/him pronouns and refers to himself as a man)

- Santa Claus isn’t taking shit from anyone and hates kids

- Jurgen is a gay emo teen stereotype (who would absolutely have many social media accounts were those game made in the 2010s)

- Sal is a cockroach himbo who’s kinda just going along with the craziness around him

- Papierwaite literally tried and sort-of managed to summon some demi-god, demi-god who turns out to be pretty chill. And the duo is symbiotic. Oh yeah and Papierwaite has powers and may or may not be immortal (I think him living this long might be due to Norrington ?)

- Mama Bosco, despite acting more like the voice of reason, still remains the wacky kind of scientist, with her creating portals to other dimensions and being pretty nonchalant about the risks of it

- Skun-ka’pe is a hyper-intelligent alien who lets his ego and slight naiveté take the better of him

- Sammun-mak is a child with enormous powers and a god complex

- and the list goes on

I just really like how the world of Sam and Max is eccentric in itself. It’s not just the two main characters who are “weird” while the rest of the city reacts to their weirdness. Every character has their own thing going on and I love how it makes this world flow.

#Sam and Max #SamandMax #Telltale #Sam and Max spoilers #(should I put a spoiler tag for a game series that's a decade old ? Then again I'm not sure how well-known those games are...) #I'm not going to tag all the characters mentioned here... #Flor talks #gotta love how the more it goes the less I'm describing what makes these characters weird #and instead is just describing them in a few words #(plus adding a few personal thoughts for some of them) #Also does this post count as an unpopular opinion ? #I mean apparently the fandom isn't the biggest fan of the Telltale trilogy due to all the problematic stuff #which I 100% understand #but at the same time man did I enjoy watching stuff from these games #and when the 3rd remaster comes out I'm absolutely buying the whole trilogy

[windypuddle]

Ensemble Stars!! > Bungou Stray Dogs, Part 2

Friends and foes:

The Port Mafia.

(A continuation of my Enstars as BSD AU, see other parts below)

[Part 1] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5]

This one is a bit of a doozy lore-wise.

I already talked about Rinne in the Agency post, but here goes. The Amagis were victims of the Great War like everyone else, hence the usual oh here’s some orphans that have been abandoned by society. well! guess they have no choice but to join the mafia! oops! and that’s pretty much what happened. except Rinne is a smart guy and good at scheming and planning and Ibara was like oh shit this guy is useful (+ no longer human). so he ended up becoming an executive.

Hiiro just kind of was a package deal with Rinne, but he’s not as good at planning and all that, so they snapped up this kid with an ability (Rashomon) and taught him how to fight, except no one really needed to teach him. since Rinne’s ability is noncombative Hiiro believed it was his duty to protect his older brother and you probably know from bsd how survival behaviors can get unhealthy in the mafia

after Rinne leaves Hiiro is devastated and starts his journey to try to bring him back. once Tsukasa leaves too he kind of gets worse about it. he meets Aira during the Guild conflict and Aira is like. maybe not a good influence all the time but definitely a Normal Influence.

Tsukasa’s family is like. Not exactly in the mafia but they run one of the front corporations for the mafia. Tsukasa is having a rebellious phase/formative experience when he joins the actual mafia. this complicates internal politics, but not nearly as much as it does when he leaves. (his ability is Demon Snow; most of the abilities are pretty much the same unless otherwise noted.)

Jin was one of the underground doctors and then ditched to go to Real Medical School after leaking information to the government and getting a pardon.

ok deserters category (+ Hiiro) aside lets get into the real mafia

Nagisa is the boss because he inherited it from his adoptive father. Ibara is the one who knows practically every detail about how the mafia works and basically runs it. He does carry out Nagisa’s orders when Nagisa feels like making any.

i do what i want with my aus and that includes ELIMINATING ALL THE WEIRD STUFF. i hope youre happy readers. yes Hiyori is Elise in that he’s the manifestation of Nagisa’s ability. hes also a wholeass adult that grew up alongside Nagisa and they are best friends and also in love. Hiyori has agency in this weird ability-typical roundabout where Nagisa wanted him to be his own separate person So He Is. but also he’s badass and occasionally superhuman

Jun is just here. idk. if Karma had more of a backstory i might be able to elaborate more. he works mostly closely with Ibara but also acts as a bodyguard for Hiyori and Nagisa.

listen. i know akatsuki mafia is an interesting choice. but listen. Keito is opportunistic and willing to set aside his morals for greater ends and would fit in well. anyway he’s cool his ability is golden demon but possibly with occasional design choices that reference Vampire Shogun.

Kuro.  yeah.. Kuro. he’s got for the tainted sorrow but without the human experimentation part. (can you tell i havent read stormbringer part 1) his sister has no clue he’s in the mafia and no one in the mafia knows he has a sister. Keito’s right-hand man.

Souma is so loyal to Keito for saving him from the Shinkai cult after the war and there is nothing questionable here at all! the mafia totally isn’t exploiting his intense devotion i don’t know what you’re talking about ^-^

(they definitely are. someone take this boy to therapy)

ryuseitai in the mafia is another interesting choice, I know. i think of them in this au kind of like the Sheep. yes Kanata is technically ex-mafia but it’s okay that was just his emo phase

Chiaki. oh, Chiaki, you poor, sweet, misguided boy with nowhere else to go, so you cling to the only place that gives you a sense of belonging. you had such ideals. (his ability is basically comet punch. idk what to tell you. he punches and its like a comet.) disregard any canon information about verlaine (can you tell i havent read stormbringer part 2)

Midori just wants to sleep but he’s got one of the more powerful abilities in the mafia (falling camellias) and his coworkers are stupid

Tetora doesn’t have an ability but he makes up for it with brute strength and various weaponry. everyone is terrified of him. Kaoru swears he saw Tetora in a dress once and mistook him for a girl and no one will believe him. (this would be easily solved because if anyone would bother to ask Tetora, he’d confirm the rumor and come out as genderfluid in the process, but everyone’s too intimidated to ask Tetora.)

Kaoru is just some guy (this is totally a front, just like being heterosexual is a front. more on that in part 5)

Shinobu has exploding ninja weapons. idk what else to tell you. they’ve got exploding ninja weapons, man.

Tori is cute (it’s a trap) (come on. who else would be Q)

HiMERU was not directly involved in the mafia, but while he was away on a “business trip”, Kaname got mixed up in some shit and ended up in the mafia (briefly) and died (for profit). If you look very, very deep in the records, well... you actually won’t find anything. But if you asked Rinne, he might remember a self-proclaimed “revolutionary” with a righteous complex that tried to single-handedly destroy the Mafia...

{Rinne was friends [as much as one can be friends in the mafia] with Jun (and Shinobu, callback to asobi club) and was kind of friends by proxy with Kaname for the short time that he was there. The seemingly meaningless death and sacrifice caused Rinne to leave the Mafia. And oh, was it interesting to show up at the Agency later on and see a vaguely familiar face...}

#puddles enstars > bsd au #enstars #ensemble stars #bungou stray dogs #bsd #rinne amagi #tsukasa suou #hiiro amagi #nagisa ran #ibara saegusa #hiyori tomoe #jun sazanami #kuro kiryu #keito hasumi #souma kanzaki #chiaki morisawa #midori takamine #tetora nagumo #shinobu sengoku #tori himemiya #kaname tojou #himeru #jin sagami #kaoru hakaze #puddle talks #port mafia

[my-apollo-gies]

Just thinking about Piper being an ex emo and so Thalia and Piper pretty much end up indoctrinating Nico into the cult that is the alt community

#well someones gotta do it #and yes indoctrinating is the only valid word for that #as an emo i have a right to refer to us as a cult #and yes piper is definitely a taking back sunday girl #i just see it #headcanon #ig #piper mclean #emo!piper #thalia grace #nico di angelo #percy jackson #percy jackson headcanon #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo #pjo headcanon #heroes of olympus #the heroes of olympus #hoo #hoo headcanon #trials of apollo #the trials of apollo #toa #toa headcanon #riordanverse #riordanverse headcanon #riordaniverse #riordaniverse headcanon

[piratewithvigor]

My first thought in regard to every band that gets played on my radio station

ACDC: Every dad’s favourite band

Adams, Bryan: Every mom’s favourite singer until Michael Buble came along

Aerosmith: haha they thought Vince Neil was a lady

Alice Cooper: he’s a Game Of Thrones fanboy and I have proof

Alice In Chains: my sister doesn’t like them because she decided AC were Alice Cooper’s initials ONLY

Allman Brothers Band: good music for dropping acid to

Allman, Gregg: That’s too many Gs for one name

Animals: House Of The Rising Sun, or who even cares

Argent: Sometimes Hold Your Head Up is really catchy

Asia: Tuesdays

Autograph: one of the members went on to be a pharmacist

Bachman-Turner Overdrive: There are just so many pop culture jokes about Taking Care Of Business that whatever I say won’t be as funny

Bad Company: with their song; Bad Company, off their album; Bad Company

Benatar, Pat: Always getting her confused with Patti Smith

Black Crowes: I like them for Lickin, but it doesn’t seem to exist outside of one shoddy video on youtube and my old CD

Blackfoot: this band name feels kind of racy

Black Sabbath: Dio was not better or worse than Ozzy; just different

Blondie: I like Call Me, but Blondie confuses me stylistically

Blue Oyster Cult: MORE COWBELL

Bon Jovi: Hello, childhood trauma, I missed you

Boston: ONE GUY. ONE GUY DID IT ALL AND NO ONE KNOWS

Bowie, David: Don’t let your children watch The Man Who Fell To Earth, or David Bowie’s will end up being the third penis they see in life

Browne, Jackson: Another musician ruined by Supernatural

Buffalo Springfield: Jack Nicholson was at the riot they sing about

Burdon, Eric: no ideas, brain empty

Bush: ditto

Candlebox: ditto once more. Who are these people?

Cars: This band feels so gay and so straight at the same time, I can only assume they’re the poster children of bisexual panic

Cheap Trick: I played Dream Police on Guitar Hero so fucking much because it was the only song anyone who played with me could keep up with

Chicago: Chicago 30 exists, but they do not have 30 albums. Fucking riddle me that

Clapton, Eric: 6 discs in one Greatest Hits is too many. That’s called “re releasing your discography”

Cochrane, Tom: For some reason, everyone thinks Rascal Flats did it better

Cocker, Joe: Belushi did it right

Collective Soul: who?

Collins, Phil: If his biggest hits were done by MCR, they would be emo anthems, but because he’s 5′6″ and from the 80s, they’re not

Cream: *Vietnam flashbacks on the hippie side*

CCR: *Vietnam flashbacks on the war side*

CSNY: David Crosby; meh

Deep Purple: THEY’RE SO MUCH MORE THAN SMOKE ON THE WATER

Def Leppard: the only music for when you’re a heartbroken bitch but also a sexy one

Derek And The Dominos: Clapton and ‘Layla’ broke up

Derringer, Rick: Tom Petty if he was from the midwest

Dio: You thought it was an anime reference, but it was me, Dio

Dire Straits: You can tell how bigoted a radio station is based on how much of Money For Nothing they censor

Doobie Brothers: I have yet to smoke weed, but I listen to the Doobies, and I think that’s pretty close

Dylan, Bob: I take back everything I said about him in my youth

Eagles: Hotel California isn’t their best song, but the memes that come from it are second to none

Edgar Winter Group: @the--blackdahlia

Electric Light Orchestra: Actually an orchestra and sound a fuckton like George Harrison

ELO: I really hesitate to ask what happens with the 7 virgins and a mule

Essex, David: no prominent memories of him

Fabulous Thunderbirds: cannot spell

Faces: Who on earth thought that was a good album name?

Faith No More: I got nothing

Fixx: One Thing Leads To Another is a damn bop

Fleetwood Mac: I ain’t straight, but I’m simply not enough of a witch to enjoy them to full potential

Fogerty, John: He got sued cause he sounded like himself

Foghat: Slow Ride slowly becoming less coherent feels like a drug trip

Foo Fighters: He was just excited to buy a grill

Ford, Lita: deserved better

Foreigner: dramatically overplayed

Frampton, Peter: a masterful user of the talk box

Free: dramatically underplayed

Gabriel, Peter: leaving Genesis changed him a lot

Genesis: if someone likes Genesis, clarify the era, because yes, it does matter

Georgia Satellites: sing like you have a cactus in your ass

Golden Earring: Twilight Zone slaps, but it doesn’t slap as hard as this station thinks it does

Grand Funk Railroad: Funk

Grateful Dead: I like their aesthetic more than their music

Great White: there are so many fucking shark jokes

Greenbaum, Norman: makes me think of Subway for some reason

Green Day: the first of the emo revolution

Greg Kihn Band: RocKihnRoll is literally the most clever album name I’ve ever seen

Guns N Roses: They have more than three good songs, but radio stations never recognize that

Hagar, Sammy: I’m still trying to figure out where he lived to take 16 hours to get to LA driving 55 and how fucking fast was he driving beforehand?

Harrison, George: He went from religious to rock, and if he had continued rocking, he would have gotten too cool 

Head East: I respect people who use breakfast foods as album names

Heart: Magic Man and Barracuda are played at least once every goddamn day. They’re not even the best songs!

Hendrix, Jimi: I have both a cousin and a sibling named after Hendrix references

Henley, Don: Dirty Laundry gives me too much inspiration

Hollies: Somehow sound like they’re both from the 60s and the 80s at the same time

Idol, Billy: he’s doing well for himself

INXS: Terminator vibes

Iris, Donnie: knockoff Roy Orbison

James Gang: too many funks

Jane’s Addiction: if TMNT had a grunge band representative

Jefferson Airplane: *assorted cheers*

Jefferson Starship: *assorted boos*

Jethro Tull: The only band to make you feel not cool enough to play the flute

Jett, Joan: icon

J. Geils Band: I requested them on the radio once and it got played

Joel, Billy: he really did just air everybody’s business like that

John Cafferty And The Beaver Brown Band: literally wtf is that name

John, Elton: yarn Elton sits in my basement, unstaring. Please someone take him from me

Joplin, Janis: Queen

Journey: Stop overplaying Don’t Stop Believing. It takes away from the rest of the repetoire

Judas Priest: literally started the gay leather aesthetic

Kansas: another fucking band Supernatural stole

Kenny Wayne Shepherd: the man confuses me to the point where he isn’t in the right place alphabetically

Kiss: Mick Mars and I will simply have to disagree on the subject

Kravitz, Lenny: runaway vibes

Led Zeppelin: Fucking fight me if you don’t think they’re the most talented band (maybe not the most talented individually, but collectively, no one comes close)

Lennon, John: My least favourite Beatle for reasons

Live: I got nothin

Living Colour: slap a decent amount

Loverboy: do you not get TURNT the fuck up to the big Loverboy hits? Who hurt you??

Lynyrd Skynyrd: Sweet Home Alabama is a Neil Young diss track

Marshall Tucker Band: no opinion

Manfred Mann’s Earth Band: VERY STRONG OPINIONS THAT THEY AREN’T GOOD

McCartney, Paul/Wings: Power couple

Meatloaf: I have nothing but respect for a man who willingly named himself Meatloaf

Mellencamp, John: voted cutest lesbian of 1987

Metallica: I liked their appearance on Jimmy Fallon

Midnight Oil: I get them confused for Talking Heads a lot

Modern English: who?

Molly Hatchet: Hollies vibes, but also Georgia Satellites vibes

Money, Eddie: DAN AVIDAN, IF YOU SEE THIS, COVER TAKE ME HOME TONIGHT

Motley Crue: Stan Mick Mars and John Corabi. They’re the only ones who deserve it

Mott The Hoople: no one loves them except for David Bowie

Mountain: props for naming an album ‘Climbing’

Nazareth: I want to make a John Mulaney joke here, but I can never come up with one

Nicks, Stevie: witch queen

Night Ranger: I get them confused with Urge Overkill

Nirvana: Kurt Cobain was the ally grunge needed

Nova, Aldo: he’s Canadian, at least

Nugent, Ted: *serves a ghost as jerky*

Offspring: nothing here

Osbourne, Ozzy: this bitch crazy

Outfield: Your Love is kind of a sketchy song, but it slaps hard

Palmer, Robert: low quality Eddie Money

Pearl Jam: *grunts in Eddie Vedder*

Petty, Tom: I have so many feelings about Tom Petty and they are all good

Pink Floyd: which one is Pink?

Plant, Robert: solo career is a crapshoot, but his voice is unparalleled

Poison: I want them to write a song called ‘Alice Cooper’

Pretenders: I want to say good things, but I have nothing to say

Queen: A doctor of astrophysics, a screaming girl, a disco queen and a diva walk into a bar. It’s Queen; they’re there to play a gig

Queensryche: neutral opinion

Quiet Riot: they got big because of a song they hated. I love that

Rafferty, Gerry: the second-sexiest sax opening in all of music

Rainbow: Ritchie Blackmore created something very magnificent

Ram Jam: one good song and they didn’t even write it

Ratt: I’m sure they have more than Round And Round, but I don’t know it

RHCP: funky, but if you have paid money to hear them, you’re going to The Bad Place (I don’t make the rules)

Red Rider: basically Golden Earring

Reed, Lou: Walk On The Wild Side would be such a cool song if it wasn’t so dull

REM: American Tragically Hip

REO Speedwagon: Props for having a dad joke as an album title

Rolling Stones: Never in my life could I imagine the drummer being named anything but Charlie

Rush: How to make being uncool the coolest fucking shit

Santana: The world needs more Santana

Scandal: There’s something really funny about The Warrior being my brother’s “song” with his girlfriend

Scorpions: Was Wind Of Change written by the CIA? Only the spotify podcast I got an ad for once could say

Seger, Bob: A different variety of Eric Clapton (frankly a better variety, but that’s just me)

Simple Minds: we ALL forgot about you

Skid Row: Sebastian Bach is prettier than all of us

Soundgarden: music that makes you feel like you dunked your head underwater

Springsteen, Bruce: my arch-nemesis. Maybe someday, he’ll find out about it

Squeeze: according to my friends, the stupidest band name ever, but they’re theatre kids, so you know

Squier, Billy: If he can make it through 1984 alive, you can make it through whatever bad day you’re having

Stealers Wheel: Yet another band who I always mistake for George Harrison

Steely Dan: my house’s nickname for the Robber in Settlers Of Catan

Steppenwolf: Either makes me think of Jay & Silent Bob, Jack Nicholson, or that time I had to cut 6lbs of onions

Steve Miller Band: when you’re in the right mood, they slap hard

Stewart, Rod: my soundtrack to summer 2015

Stills, Stephen: Love The One You’re With Is Catchy, but the lyrics are questionable

Stone Temple Pilots: the only band to write a song about goo you smear on yourself

Stray Cats: an obscene amount of merch is available for them

Styx: Supernatural would have ruined them for me too if I hadn’t been into them previously. 

Supertramp: I hunted for Breakfast In America for two years and it was worth every hunt

Sweet: I will never understand my two-month obsession with Ballroom Blitz when I was 15, but it was legit all I listened to

Talking Heads: you may find yourself in a pizza hut. And you may find yourself in a taco bell. And you may find yourself at the combination pizza hut and taco bell. And you may ask yourself; ‘how did I get here?’

Temple Of The Dog: I keep confusing them for Nazareth

Ten Years After: somehow still relevant

Tesla: not the car or the dude

The Beatles: Evokes a lot of opinions from people. Mine is that I love them

The Clash: I showed my sister the ‘Lock The Taskbar’ vine ONCE and it still kills her

The Doors: evokes teenage terror from deep within my soul

The Guess Who: Canada’s answer to confusing question-themed band names

The Kinks: kinky

The Police: wrote the theme of 2020 and everyone somehow forgot it was about a teacher resisting becoming a pedophile

The Ramones: playing all of their songs in a row wouldn’t take more than 2 hours

The Romantics: you don’t think you know them, but if you’ve seen Shrek 2, you have

The Who: If someone can explain Tommy to me, I’d be glad to hear it

The Zombies: I think they happened because of the 60s

Thin Lizzy: Could the boys maybe leave town?

Thorogood, George: blues, but make it modern

Toto: the most memed song behind All Star

Townshend, Pete: just makes me think of the end of Mr. Deeds

T-Rex: Mark Bolan is an icon

Triumph: The no-name brand of Rush

Tubes: like the yogurt

Twisted Sister: they did a christmas album and my mom does NOT hate it

U2: U2 Movers; we move in mysterious ways

Van Halen: RIP Eddie

Van Morrison: honestly, who’s named Van?

Vaughn, Stevie Ray: Steamy Ray Vaughn

Walsh, Joe: The Smoker You Drink The Player You Get

War: Foghat, but even groovier

Whitesnake: the most successful band to be named after a penis

Wright, Gary: the 90s thanks him for writing the song every movie used for the “guy sees cute girl and it’s love at first sight” scene

Yes: To Be Continued

Young, Neil: The best part of CSNY

Zevon, Warren: the album cover of Excitable Boy makes me deeply uncomfortable for reasons I don’t understand

ZZ Top: has been the same three guys since 1969. Lineup unchanged. 

3 Doors Down: They feel a little modern to be on a classic rock station, but whatever

38 Special: Why 38?

#I made this instead of doing homework #Classic Rock #Meme

[ahs-source]

Happy Friday! Welcome to this week’s Fanfiction Friday! Thank you to those who submitted these fantastic works for this week’s Fanfiction Friday. Let’s celebrate these wonderful works that you can all read while in quarantine! Please stay safe!

As Above, So Below (Completed) by 7_wonders (AO3) Relationships: Michael Langdon x Female Reader | Tags: Hades & Persephone au | Completed (23/23 Chapters) | 71441 words

Your average, mundane life as a college student is flipped upside down when the man you thought you knew as your next-door neighbor turns out to be the God of the Dead. When Michael lures you down to Hell, everything that you thought you knew about the world is proven wrong.

Headache (Completed) by heramew (AO3) Relationships: Fiona Goode x Myrtle Snow | Tags: Abuse, Hurt/Comfort, young Fiona and Myrtle | Completed (1/1 Chapters) | 2098 words

1971, Fiona and her friends sneaked up to a party in town, but things didn't go as planned.

Headfirst for Halos (WIP) by @hellish-ramblings-of-an-emo​ (Tumblr) Relationships: Tate Langdon x Female Reader | Warnings: allusions to both physical and emotional abuse from a family member, actual physical abuse between a freshman and a senior, allusions to mental illnesses such as depression, student v. student violence. A certain way an event was phrased could be considered an allusion to molestation. strong language. a reference to homophobic slurs (none were used) | Completed (1/? Chapters) | 1240 words

I truly believe there isn’t a sound as horrible as the sound of my alarm. The repetitive chimes shoot straight to the center of my brain. It’s horrible. My bones crack as I attempt to get out of bed, a groan instinctively leaving my throat. I was dizzy, the light peeking through from between my blinds making my head throb. My shitty alarm clock read 6:27AM. 15 minutes until my ride gets here.

Love Like Winter (Completed) by @dailylangdon​​ (Tumblr) Relationships: Winter Anderson x Female Reader | Warnings: Oral sex, alcohol use, fingering, lack of plot | Completed (1/1 Chapters) | 549 words

How did you end up like this?

You hadn’t seen her in god knows how long. She was just a girl you knew from school. It was Christmas break from college and by chance you ran into her on your first night back in town.

She took you to her place and you split a frozen cherry lime wine cooler. The two of you talked about old times and dissolved into giggles. Next thing you knew, every piece of your clothing was hastily peeled off your body.

Resistance is Futile (Completed) by Sojourne (AO3) Relationships: Michael Langdon x Female Reader | Tags: Dubious Consent, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Demons, Bondage, Begging, Size Difference, Size Kink, Dirty Talk, Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Fingerfucking, Hand & Finger Kink, Overstimulation, Choking, Hair-pulling, Demons, Demon Summoning, Spanking, Rough Sex | Completed (1/1 Chapters) | 5355 words

Soon after moving into your new apartment, you realize that something isn't quite right. It's constantly cold, you always feel like someone is watching you, and things start moving around on their own.

Turns out, one of the past tenants summoned a demon and then trapped him here, and now he's upset with you invading his territory. Uh-oh.

Demon AU

Run Rabbit Run (Completed) by @maso-xchrist​​​​ (Tumblr) Relationships: Michael Langdon x Female Reader | Warnings: PURE SMUT. Non/dub-con, chasing, violence, mimicry, knifeplay, cutting, stabbing, choking, hanging, & blood consumption. In other words, not for the faint of heart! | Completed (1/1 Chapters) | 6k+ words

A single heart beats in the outpost.

Security Blanket (Completed) by @mxnstersarehuman​​​​​​ (Tumblr) Relationships: Kai Anderson x Female Reader | Prompt: Hey could you write something maybe for a softer Kai Anderson x reader idc what I’m sorry I know this isn’t really specific just softer Kai thanks if you can! | Completed (1/1 Chapters)

You hear the slam of the door and immediately know Kai is home. Things had been so hectic as of late and he was always so busy with his cult so you always made sure to stay up for his return home just so you could see him. Even if it was only for a few minutes before fatigue took over and you both fell asleep.

Kai was a terrifying person, mean and vindictive and manipulative and cruel, all things that he had never been towards you. Everyone in the cult had thought you were crazy for accepting his proposal of a date when he had offered a year ago, but you saw something in his eyes when he asked you. His request wasn’t demanding like you would’ve expected, rather polite and genuinely inquisitive as to whether you actually liked him romantically.

So of course you had said yes.

thanatos (Completed) by SophieGraceJ (AO3) Relationships: Michael Langdon x Mallory | Tags: Immobilisation kink, Smut, Rape/Non-con Elements, Creepy, Blood and Gore, fairytale!au, Snow White!Au, dark!millory, this is dark, Death, cosmic horror kinda | Completed (1/1 Chapters) | 2537 words

“There’s something in these forests.” “Something … something venomous. It’s been killing me since I arrived here. It is what drains me of life, what keeps me bed ridden.” “But I cannot leave. I protect the people. Now I pass this onto you, this destiny is yours now Mallory.”

She fell, fell deep into the grave, body unmoving. At first, she suspected it was sleep. But it wasn’t. No.

Her eyes blinking again, vision clear. She could see, hear, smell … but not touch. Couldn’t move a finger, couldn’t wriggle her toes, couldn’t open her mouth to gasp when time passed.

He met her gaze, and his eyes widened. Only just discovering an intimacy. He smiled some more. This time, it reached his eyes, although they wept with tears, copying her own.

The Devil Incarnate (Completed) by jeromevaleska​​​​​ (AO3) Relationships: Michael Langdon x Female Reader | Tags: POV Second Person, Eventual Smut, Banter, Slow Burn, Family Drama, Lots of plot, Reader-Insert, Explicit Language, Slow Build, Sexual Tension, it starts off when miriam brings michael into her home, there will be smut ya'll already know, Reader-Interactive, Eventual Sex, there's some tension between you and michael, you don't trust him at all, Porn With Plot, i'll add tags as the story goes on, Love/Hate, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Dysfunctional Relationships, Explicit Sexual Content, Developing Relationship | Completed (23/23 Chapters) | 142022 words

You're Miriam Mead's daughter, and you two have a complicated relationship to say the least. You think she's more than a little bonkers with her religious beliefs, and no matter how much she has tried to make you follow the same dark path, it's in vain. But when Miriam welcomes Michael into your home, you start to question everything and you just might become a believer.

the love that discovered the sin (Completed) by @lvngdvns​​​​​ (Tumblr) Relationships: Michael Langdon x Female Reader x Timothy Howard | Warnings: Fingering, oral sex (fem. receiving), threesome, rough sex, double penetration, anallingus, anal sex, vaginal sex, degradation, choking, cum eating, religion kink, biblical allusions/perversion of scripture, all things blasphemous and unholy. Literally just sacrilegious PWP. (+ crack ship pairing) | Completed (1/1 Chapters) | 4.4k words

“Bless me father,” she breathes into Timothy’s ear as she crawls astride his lap, slipping a finger underneath the rim of his collar and pulling it free in a single, effortless motion, “for I have sinned.”

Untitled pt. 2 (pt.1 here) by @writerforprompt​​ (Tumblr) Relationships: Kai Anderson x Female Reader | Warnings: Oral Sex, Manipulation, Mention of Drug Use, Vaginal Sex, Dark Themes, Pregnancy | Completed (1/1 Chapters) | 2350 words 

You were kneeling in between Kai’s legs, head tilted towards the sky, arching your throat into his grip. You brought your chest forward to make sure it was directly within his line of sight. Based upon the number of hungry glances he shot down your plunging neckline, you’d say it was.

Thank you to those who sent in these works! Please continue sending submissions to ahs-source.tumblr.com/submit or through the Tumblr mobile app to continue celebrating the writers in the community!

Previous FF Fridays: 1 | 2a + 2b | 3 | 4a + 4b | 5 | 6

#AHS Fanfiction #American Horror Story Fanfiction #Michael Langdon x Reader #Michael Langdon x Mallory #Kai Anderson x Reader #Tate Langdon x Reader #Winter Anderson x Reader #Fiona Goode x Myrtle Snow #Timothy Howard x Reader #Michael Langdon #Mallory #Kai Anderson #Tate Langdon #Winter Anderson #Myrtle Snow #Fiona Goode #Timothy Howard #FF Friday #American Horror Story #AO3 #AHS #long post

[the-velveteen-victorian]

Elle can you explain what goth is? Google is really inconsistent and I’m having such a difficult time understanding it. When did you find out you were goth?

Definitely! This is a long response just so you are prepared. =) Goth is a music-based subculture. You are correct… Google is not a good resource for discovering what goth is. Unfortunately, a lot of “goth” guide books aren’t either (I know one of them features a lot of emo bands?). First off, let’s just get out of the way what goth is not. Goth is not emo or metal. Avenged Sevenfold, My Chemical Romance, and Pantera are not goth. Goth is not white supremacy. Yes, those of us with naturally pale skin sometimes strive to keep our skin tones light, but goth is a home to people of all skin/hair/eye colors. Anyone who says you can only be a pale, white person is disgusting. Goth is not associated with any religion, philosophy, political inclination, or specific belief system. There are Christian, Hindu, Atheist, New Age, Shinto, Muslim, Republican, Democrat, Green Party, pineapple on pizza, no pineapple on pizza goths. You get my point. =)

Wearing goth fashion does not make someone goth, no matter how great the outfit may be. I (and most goths, elder and younger) define goth as someone who has an intense interest and passion for goth music. That’s it. Sure, most of us will gravitate toward darker aesthetics and like to wear the fashion when we can, but it is absolutely NOT a requirement. That is what google gets so wrong. One of the goth ladies I know spends 80% of her time in scrubs. She loves her job as a nurse practitioner and she has to have a more conservative look while she is working. She can’t wear the fashion more often than a couple times a month. She listens to goth music every day and is super knowledgeable about it. Is she goth? Yes. Conversely, I know a lot of teenagers who are trying to figure out who they are (which is TOTALLY FINE). They actually do a really great job of diy-ing goth looks, but they do not listen to goth music at all. Most of them listen to metal, emo, or country music. Do I consider them goth? No. But I do not judge them for it. Music is about what speaks to you and goth is in no way superior to any other musical taste.

With the rise of “pastel goth” and fashion trends on tumblr/social media, I think a lot of people get misled. This is why it is so important to have some level of contact with the actual goth community. Covid showed us that it is possible to do this online! We can attend online goth nights, get the set lists and analyze goth club music trends from our homes, and have zoom dance sessions! I really love the flexibility and versatility that the pandemic revealed to the goth community… because a lot of goths don’t live in cities with a big goth scene.

How did I discover I was goth? By beautiful accident. =) I was 15, and I struggled to have any level of autonomy or self-expression at all. I grew up in a conservative family (Christian/religious) cult. That rabbit hole runs deep and is a separate story for another time. The point is that I had very limited contact with the outside world apart from my private school, church, and Christian-group violin lessons. However! I received a nano ipod from an extended family member for Christmas one year. I copied a bunch of CD’s from Christian acquaintances at my church and filled the ipod up with the generic contemporary Christian and overstimulating broadway musicals endemic to the culture around me… it was all I had. Then, one day I discovered a goth band. I had no idea they were a goth band. I was obsessed with their sound. I can’t remember which platform I found them on, but I remember I did not have a video with it… so I’m thinking I was on the itunes store. I had chills and for the first time every something felt “right” in the music world for me.

Goth music begets more goth music… Itunes recommended other bands like the one I had found. I only had the money to buy a few albums over the course of a year, but I would retitle the songs and albums as Christian or Disney compilations so that my parents would never suspect what I was listening to (they regularly went through my ipod to make sure I wasn’t listening to anything worldly). One day, I was listening to some of my goth music with another confirmed atheist at my private Christian school and he was like, “OMG I had no idea you were a goth!” I was super confused and was all like, “No, I’m not. I don’t even know what that is…” This guy was a metalhead, but he had a ton of goth friends and he gave me my first thorough education on everything goth. I was 15 at the time, and it was not until nearly 4 years later that I would escape my family and truly come to integrate in the goth community.

Long story short, I started out with the music with no clue about the fashion. I think I was very fortunate in that because it gave me time to develop my musical preferences and tastes without feeling pressured to fit into a tiny little box. Later, when I was free, I did develop a goth wardrobe and (of course) decorated my house in a dark romantic/Victorian style…. But I never felt like those things were vital to who I was as a goth. I’m really thankful for that.

Please understand, that I do not want to erase the incredible goth fashion magicians out there or diminish the hard work someone may put into their personal look or aesthetic. The goth aesthetic is the heartbeat behind the unparalleled, transcendent feeling I have in a goth club or just in my own bedroom. It definitely adds to the experience. All I am saying is that those things alone do not a goth make. I also grew up obsessed with (gothic) Victorian literature... it took me awhile to put 2 and 2 together for that one too lol.

My controversial opinion here is that I do believe that some level of gatekeeping is necessary to keeping goth alive today. Unfortunately, it is an endangered species as subcultures go… this is not because there are not any goths. It is because the mainstream has appropriated it and defined it as fashion ONLY, which then confuses people who go to the surface level of the internet to get answers… which then creates a whole following that erases what goth truly is.

However, I need to explain that when most people refer to gatekeeping, they are talking about bullying. I am defining gatekeeping as providing a definition for the heart of the goth movement and sticking to it. Bullying is never acceptable. Ever. The example I employ a lot utilizes musical genre as an example. Let’s say you put on a Carnifex t-shirt and wear it a lot. But…. You don’t listen to metal because it just is not your sound. You don’t talk to other people about metal music, seek out the aesthetic, have more than 2 songs on your phone with metal music, or (want) to attend metal events. Are you a metalhead? No, of course not. But are you inferior to metalheads because you choose to listen to classical and hip-hop music? No, of course not. Another example: Let’s say you don’t like coffee. You don’t regularly drink it, read about it, or have an interest in it. Are you a coffee enthusiast? No, of course not. Are you inferior to those who do drink coffee? No, of course not. But it would be ridiculous to feel pressured to fit the mold of a coffee enthusiast, right?

It is never wrong to define what something is and to stick to your guns on it as long as you do not cross over into elitist territory, thinking you are better than everyone else. That is the point I want to get across here. Goth fashion does own my heart, but I also sometimes dress in dark academia, cottagecore, dark mori, and even in 80’s retrofuturistic styles when the mood strikes me. It does not change my involvement in the goth community or erase my love for goth music.

Lastly, a question I get a lot (and I have addressed this in previous posts) is, “I am obsessed with goth music… I have a wide knowledge base that I have spent great amounts of time developing and it is my life… but I also like Lil Peep, Lady Gaga, ‘gothic’ metal, and Lana Del Rey. Am I still goth?” The answer is YES. Of course you are! Loving goth music and being obsessed doesn’t mean you can’t like other things. Anyone in the goth community who tells you have to ONLY listen to goth music is full of crap. Eighty percent of my ipod is goth music… I am lucky to have thousands of songs. (And by the way, if you cannot afford a lot of goth music, you are not less goth than the rest of us. Listening for free is just as valid.) The other twenty percent is classical and synthwave/cybersynth/retrowave/darkly inclined/spacewave/video game sountrack/cyberpunk-inspired stuff. Am I any less of a goth for also being obsessed with the retrowave community or for listening to bands that are darkly inclined but not quite goth? No, of course not. Also, you can be darkly inclined without being goth, and that is just as beautiful. =) My husband is darkly inclined and likes some goth music, but he is more involved in the horror community. He is no less valid and freaking awesome than I am.

I hope this makes sense! This is a subject I feel passionate about. Just to recap, the pillars of fashion, gothic literature, and general aesthetics are valid in the goth scene and contribute greatly to the structural integrity of the whole. However, the soul of goth is in the music. I have hearing loss myself and have a couple of friends who are completely deaf who also agree that the music is the soul of goth. The way they engage is by reading the lyrics and even going to goth clubs when they can to dance and feel the beat. =) I think that is beautiful and so amazing. Hearing disabilities do not disqualify you from the goth scene- anyone who says they do is garbage.  

Here are a couple of videos explaining a bit about what goth music actually is. Let me know if you would like more resources! Angela Benedict did a video where she answered the question, “Can you be goth and not like the music?” Her answer is also no. She is a great youtuber to watch because she was there for the 90’s goth scene! It is so fun to hear her stories and learn about the elder goth generations. <3

Goth music is not just goth rock… there are SOOOOO many subgenres under the massive umbrella that is goth. It is a big universe to explore. =) If you would like a list of some of my favorite goth bands AND goth adjacent bands, then I can do a separate post for that- just ask! Thank you for tolerating my info-dumping. =) <3

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tKDo_j0O-hA&t=116s – Accumortis on goth music

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BGj3CuAeW1w – Angela Benedict on goth music

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zg3HwuFlGeU&t=587s – Angela Benedict on defining goth

#whatisgoth #gothmusic #angelabenedict #accumortis #gothfashion

[athingthatwantsvirginia]

Can I Look, Miss O’Keefe?

PART SIXTEEN OF THE DO YOU SEE HER FACE? SERIES

Pairing: Jess Mariano x Original Character (Ella Stevens)

Warnings: mentions of parent death and family issues, we’re back to being super emo folks, plentiful pop culture references

Word Count: 3.7K

Summary: Distance grows between Ella and Jess as they dance around forbidden topics and discuss their fears.

Crunchy snow and ice coated the streets of Stars Hollow, and large flakes fell from the dark, cloudy sky as Ella sat up, awake in the Gilmore living room. The monkey lamp on the side table offered a yellow glow. It was the early hours of the morning, New Year’s Eve. Christmas had come and gone, and the days before the return to school were filled with good books and movie marathons. Though Lane had gone home earlier, before they finished their last John Hughes flick, Lorelai insisted Ella stay on the couch for the night. It was past midnight and the roads were in no condition to be walked on. And though she was comfortable, probably more relaxed than she was in her own home, she’d tossed and turned for about an hour before deciding the effort was hopeless.

Instead, she took the copy of Slaughterhouse Five from her bag and read quietly, adding her own notes to the margins alongside Jess’s. Before, the room would have been drafty. But Luke had recently fixed the windows (again). Ella was cozy beneath a bunch of spare blankets, dressed in only a tank top and a borrowed pair of Rory’s sweatpants. The Gilmore women were tall though, and Ella had to cuff the pants at the bottom so they wouldn’t drag on the floor when she walked. Her eyes were starting to get heavy, but she was too engrossed in the story to consider putting it down. She had no idea what time it was, though it was still pitch black outside, when soft footfalls sounded on the stairs.

Clearing her throat, Ella marked a place in the book with her finger, and looked up to see a sleepy Lorelai. “Hi, sorry. Did I wake you?”

Lorelai shook her head slightly. “No, sweetie. I got up to use the bathroom and I saw the light was on. Wanted to make sure you and Rory didn’t start a midnight cult behind my back or something.”

“That does sound like us,” Ella said, cracking a small smile.

Lorelai sat down on the coffee table next to the couch, elbows on her knees. “What’s going on?”

Shrugging, Ella averted her eyes and gestured to her book. “Oh, just reading. Jess gave me his copy and I wanted to be done by our shift tomorrow. There’s just so much to argue about.”

“Well, it’s good to know I need to steer clear of you two tomorrow, but is that really why you’re up with Vonnegut at almost three in the morning?” Lorelai asked, tilting her head.

Ella hesitated a moment, but then sighed and clutched at her necklace. “I just...people are starting to get college decisions in the mail. And...I don’t know.”

“You’re gonna get in, Ella. You’ve got perfect grades, and a job, and-”

Scoffing, Ella nodded. “Yeah, I just...I’m gonna have to live at home. And I’m worried I’ll never get outta here.”

“Stars Hollow?” Lorelai asked, sympathetic.

She nodded again. “I mean...I wanna live in a city. Where every day I walk out the door to new people, and there’s new places to go and...I know and like this town. I do. But it stopped being home the day my mom died.”

Though she had passion in her voice and a smile still on her lips, Lorelai could see the sadness in Ella’s far-off gaze. It was something so striking and mature, something she never saw in Rory or Lane. Though Rory was an old soul in her own right, Lorelai could see Ella out on her own and doing just fine by the very next day. Lorelai leaned in a little closer, and the mothering tone came to her voice, which she had used on Ella more times than one in the past two and a half years.

“Ella, I want you to listen to me. You are smart, and talented, and you’re one of the strongest people I know,” Lorelai said, and raised a hand as Ella scoffed at her words. “I know it feels like it’ll take forever. But you have to be patient, okay? I know that one day you’ll get to have everything you want.”

Shaking her head, Ella swallowed back the shine in her eyes. “You can’t know that.”

“But I can. I have the sight,” Lorelai said mystically. “It’s a certified Gilmore talent.”

It made Ella chuckle a little, and Lorelai smiled in response. “Okay, Lorelai.”

“Sweetie, I spent years living in a shed, just me and Rory. I was a maid who worked eighty hours a week. But now, I have a house and I’m a manager and I…” she paused to sigh, gesturing to the room around them while she tried to articulate her thoughts. “Anything worth having is gonna take time. You’ll get there. I know it.”

Blowing out a soft breath, Ella leaned back against the pillows. “Okay. Thank you. Sorry for being such a freak.”

“Hardly,” Lorelai said, shaking her head. “Freaks are the only people worth being around. I think you already know that.”

“That I do.”

Lorelai rose from the table and draped the blankets up over Ella more. “Now go to sleep. You’ve gotta be in fighting shape if you’re going up against John Bender tomorrow.”

Ella scoffed. “I could take him on no sleep at all.”

Laughing, Lorelai made for the stairs. “I’d bet on you.”

“Hey, Lorelai?” Ella called, snuggling down into the couch and turning onto her side.

Lorelai turned. “Yeah?”

“Thank you. For everything. I mean, I’ll never be able to-”

“Sweetie,” Lorelai interrupted, a kind expression softening her face. “You’re welcome. Now, dream of those Eggos we’ll feast on in the morning.”

.   .   .

Tuckered out from a long day of waitressing and literary sparring, Ella leaned her head on her crossed arms against the counter. She sat at a stool, already dozing by ten o’clock. Having finished up closing the front of house early, with Luke’s help, she waited for Jess to complete his dishwashing duties. He was back over the steaming vat as soon as his stitches were yanked out. Upstairs, she could hear Luke trying to set up his small, black-and-white TV. Her thoughts were becoming hazy when Jess finally emerged from the back, smirking.

“You told me not to let you fall asleep yet, Stevens,” he said.

She lifted her head, brows furrowed. “I can do what I please, Mariano.”

“Oooo, angry face,” he teased.

“Fuck off,” she grumbled, clearing her throat as she hopped down off the stool.

“Oh, this is bound to be an amazing night.”

Ella tugged on her coat and grabbed her bag. “Sorry, sorry. Just give me five minutes and I’ll be back to Little Miss Sunshine.”

Jess snorted a laugh. “I think that’s too ambitious.”

“You underestimate me, Mariano,” she quipped, smirking. Going back over to the checkered curtain, she shouted up the stairs. “Hey Luke, we’re leaving!”

“Okay!” he yelled back.

“Are you sure you don’t want us to stay and celebrate with you?” she asked, ignoring Jess when he shook his head at her. She’d been asking it over and over all day. No matter how much Luke insisted, she couldn’t believe he actually wanted to spend New Year’s alone.

Finally, Luke opened the apartment door and she could see him at the top of the creaky stairs. “For God’s sake, go. No drinking, drugs-”

“Or animal sacrifices, I got it!” she finished for him, smirking.

“And Jess will be back by-”

“Two!” Jess chimed in, tone flat and his mouth set in a thin line.

“Happy New Year!” Ella said, grabbing Jess’s hand and leading him towards the front door.

“Yeah, yeah,” Luke grunted, shutting the apartment door behind him.

.   .   .

Ella could feel the rumble of Jess’s voice, her head on his chest, as they laid together in her bed. The lavender candles were lit, and her old alarm clock was set for ten til midnight. A bottle of red wine sat in the fridge, the only alcohol left in the house by her father and Fiona before they went out of town to celebrate with Fiona’s sister in Nevada. They were going to toast when the clock on the stove struck midnight, then go back to her room to continue with Jess’s reading of Frankenstein. Originally, the plan had been to watch the Twilight Zone marathon all night. But, Adam and his friends had gotten to the living room first, playing video games on the modest TV. Being confined to her bedroom wasn’t so bad, but the challenge for Ella was staying awake. Jess chose the Mary Shelley novel simply because he knew how much she loved the story, hoping she wouldn’t fall asleep to it. Especially because he knew he wouldn’t have the heart to wake her if she truly fell asleep.

Shifting in her space, Ella caught a glance at the clock and saw it was a half hour to midnight. Jess was halfway through a passage, and she sat up with crossed legs and looked down at him, yawning.

“Jess?” she asked when there was a pause in the text.

“Hm?”

“Are you happy?”

His brows furrowed and he sat up against the mural. “Excuse me?”

Scoffing, she averted her gaze. “I just mean...working at Walmart and Luke’s and being...here? In Stars Hollow?”

Jess shrugged, setting the book aside and crossing his arms over his chest. “It’s not too terrible a place to be. And I plan to get out of Stars Hollow.”

“And go where?” she asked, eyes rimmed red with fatigue.

“Wherever.”

She smirked at his nonchalance. “And write?”

Again, he shrugged, sitting up straighter. “Maybe. I’ll live where I live and work where I work.”

Ella snorted a laugh. “Alright, Kerouac. So you’re not going back to New York?”

He shook his head, expression guarded.

“You don’t miss it?”

Though he seemed to hesitate a moment, his tone was firm when he spoke again. His eyes were somewhere else, staring over at the stack of records near her dresser. Led Zeppelin played low from the turntable, another effort to stay awake. “Miss my mom drinking herself into accepting random wedding proposals and barely scrounging up enough cash to keep the heat on?”

Her heart sank into her stomach, and, instinctively, she began to run her fingers through his hair. On break from school, she noticed he used gel and other products less and less. It was more relaxed and fell down a little over his forehead.

“No, I can’t say I’m bending over backwards to get back there again,” he said.

Ella nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“Nothing for you to be sorry over,” he replied immediately, though not angry. He wanted to squirm under her touch, still uncomfortable talking about his past, but tried to relax.

“Hey,” she said softly, after a momentary silence. Jess finally met her eyes again. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too.”

As she kissed him sweetly, slow and simple, he interlaced their fingers, finally losing the tension in his body. Skin against skin, she could feel the thin, pinkish scar on his hand. When she pulled away, he put his arm around her shoulders and she moved to lean back against him. His free hand was still in hers, and she touched the scar gingerly.

“And you wanted me to wait for Luke to superglue this up,” she said, with a teasing shake of her head.

He rolled his eyes. “I wouldn’t have died.”

Ella sighed. “Anything’s possible.”

Jess bit his lip, feeling his heart twist slightly. Though he’d heard a fair bit about her mother, he still didn’t know how she died. From the way the townspeople sometimes looked at her, with so much pity and sympathy, Jess could gather it wasn't a ‘going gently into that good night’ kind of situation. Whatever had happened, it had been sudden, and it had been shocking. He pressed a kiss to her head and tried to keep his voice light.

“Well, it definitely wasn’t as Texas Chainsaw Massacre as the other time I got stitches.”

“The other time?” she asked, looking up at him.

Swallowing dryly, he held out his left arm for her to see, sleeve rolled up. On the inside of his forearm, near his elbow, there was a large, semicircular scar, pale and raised, but old. For a moment Ella wondered why she’d never noticed it before, but she knew if she wasn’t looking for it, she wouldn’t ever have spotted it.

“Jesus. What happened?” she asked, a crease between her brows.

“Cujo,” he said, smirking slightly. “This dog across the hall from us when I was five. I tried to pet him and he wasn’t on quite the same wavelength.”

“Fuck, Jess,” she said, shaking her head slightly. Ella squeezed his hand.

“It’s alright,” he said. “World bites you, dog bites boy. It’s chaos out there.”

She chuckled a little, nodding. “Sad but true.”

“Did you ever get stitches?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “But, your dogs and needles are my oceans.”

“Oceans?” Jess asked.

“When I was seven, we went to Ogunquit to visit my grandparents. It was the only time I ever went to a beach, and I got caught in a riptide. I didn’t pass out or anything, but I drifted out pretty far before my dad got me. Waves kept crashing over me and I kept going under.”

“Well, I guess I’ll have to cancel those tickets to Bora Bora, huh?”

She smiled. “Yeah, I’d recommend it.”

He smiled back, then they settled back down into the bed, Jess grabbing the book again. Before he started, however, he looked over at her in askance.

“Are you happy, Eleanor?”

“At this moment? Very.”

.   .   .

Storming into the diner, Ella shook the snow from her peacoat and unwound her scarf, huffing in frustration. January was frigid, but Ella’s blood boiled and her heart pounded in her ears. Schoolwork weighed down her bag, heavy with post-break assignments and reading. Once inside, the heat hit her pleasantly, but her nose began to run and her face flushed. She wasn’t surprised to find Jess not inside the diner; he’d been at school only twice in the past week and he was taking more shifts at Walmart than he once had. New Year’s had been a good night, a kiss at midnight and heads buzzing on red wine as Ella walked Jess back to the diner in fresh snow and the twinkling light of the town square.

But she could see something was bothering him. He didn’t leave quite as many notes in the margins, looked tired most of the time. And each time she asked him about it, he brushed it off, told her he was fine, and pressed a heated kiss to her lips. He didn’t call her as often. The recent disconnect between them, which she thought now might have begun even back in early December, did nothing to help her current mood. She went to the back to grab her apron, tucking stray strands of hair behind her ears. If he didn’t want to talk, she didn’t need to talk to him. Whatever he needed to work out, apparently he wanted to do it on his own. It was what she said whenever Luke asked after him. She wasn’t his mother, and Luke was his guardian. It wasn’t her job to fix Jess. And, in her mind, Jess didn’t need fixing.

Luke stood behind the counter filling coffee mugs, and he nodded at her as she passed. “Hey, Ella. How are ya? You have a good week?”

“I’m just peachy,” she said back, no emotion in her voice.

Perking up, Luke furrowed his brows at her. She wasn’t known for being cheery, exactly, but usually she strung together more than three words. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she said quietly, her voice a sigh.

“C’mon, kid, we’re well past white lies,” Luke said, hands on his hips.

Ella rolled her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose, an ache behind her eyes. It wasn’t migraine level, but the throbbing pain made her feel a little sick to her stomach.

“They got married,” she said shortly.

“What?” Luke asked.

Sighing, she watched Babette and Maury walk in, waving at them with a tiny smile.

“Hey, sugar! We’ll need a minute to order!” Babette called in her breathy, gravelly voice. It made Ella feel marginally better.

Her serious demeanor returned when she turned back to Luke. “My dad and Fiona got married. In Vegas. They took a whole week off—who knows how they could afford it on an electrician’s and a hairdresser’s salary—and apparently they thought: ‘Hey, let’s get married, not tell anyone, and not call for the whole week. In fact, let’s not go visit Fiona’s sister,’ which is what they said they were doing in the first place.”

There was a beat of silence, and finally Luke nodded, mouth slightly agape. “Wow.”

“Yeah, so, that’s what’s wrong. There ya go,” she said, taking a rag and wiping down some water on the counter. She didn’t meet Luke’s eyes.

“Ella, I’m-”

She raised a dismissive hand to stop him. “Luke, don’t worry, it’s alright. They seem happy, so, who am I to care? And besides, now I don’t have to give some phony speech at the wedding.”

.   .   .

The Clash blasted through the boombox, and though it did nothing to help her headache, it, oddly, made her heart slow. It took her mind off the storm of emotions brewing in the pit of her stomach. What if they ended up having another kid? Would her father mend the mistakes of his past? Would he see the error of his ways? She doubted it. People didn’t change. They acted differently, but they didn’t change. Sometimes, she knew, all people wore disguises. It made fear rise up in her throat, and her hands shake. But, instead, she sang along to “Bank Robber” and drew a garden full of roses and wasps. On the other side of the page, there was a sketch of Fiona with a veil over her head. It almost made her want to cry.

Luke was closing up downstairs, and offered the apartment to her to hang out in for a few hours after her shift. He knew what her home could be like. And the practice felt bittersweet and familiar to her; she’d spent many an afternoon at Luke’s kitchen table, sketching in the days after she lost her mother. The words she’d spoken to Lorelai a few nights earlier spun around in her brain. She would never be able to accept her mother’s death until Stars Hollow was in her rearview mirror. Everything seemed to be a reminder. Though maybe it wasn’t location-specific. Maybe it’s just what happened when you lost someone close to you.

It was long past dark outside when Jess stepped through the door, blue vest in his hand. His dark hair was gelled and crazy. He kicked off his boots and a smirk covered his face when he saw her there. And no matter how conflicted she felt about him at the moment, a sense of relief filled her at the sight of him, and she couldn’t help but smirk back from her spot sitting up in his bed. She took her sketchbook from her knee, closed it, and dropped it on his nightstand.

“Hi,” he said, putting his vest in the top drawer of his dresser. As he walked by the boombox, he turned it down slightly so he could hear her.

“Hey, sorry. I didn’t think you’d get off until later. I stole your bed,” she replied, scooting up to the head of the bed as Jess sat down on the end.

He shook his head. “Don’t be sorry. Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Well, I can assure you, there was no tequila involved today,” Ella said, crossing her arms over her Sonic Youth t-shirt. “Just didn’t wanna go home yet.”

“What’s up?”

She shrugged and clutched at her necklace with one nail-bitten hand. “Long story short: That rendezvous to Nevada Fiona and my dad took? They got married by some Elvis impersonator in Vegas and just...didn’t tell anyone until yesterday.”

She thought of the night before when she had, in a rage, called the diner to tell him. Jess had been the only one she wanted to talk to, the only one her heart was aching for. Instead, Luke picked up and told her Jess was out.

Jess sighed, and put a hand on her jean-clad knee. “I’m sorry, honey.”

Ella ran her fingers through her messy hair and then took his hand in hers. She sat closer to him, until their knees were touching, but still she didn’t lock eyes with him. Jess could practically see the gloom radiating off her. Dark makeup painted her eyes. Black Doc Martens were discarded at the side of the bed. Her nails, polished in chipped black, were still bitten down. But, she managed a small smile.

“It’s fine. I don’t wanna talk about it anymore.”

“Okay,” he said shortly, nodding. Finally, she looked at him and bit her lip. His face was drawn in fatigue.

Bringing her hand to his cheek, Ella’s gaze softened. He leaned into her touch. “Are you okay, Jess?”

“Yeah. Fine.”

“Seems like you’ve been working a lot. You haven’t been at school. I just...are you sleeping alright?” she asked, hesitant.

Jess did his best to straighten up, nodding. “Stevens, don’t worry. Luke just won’t let me keep the music on to sleep anymore. I’m still getting used to it.”

She nodded and kissed him, hearing the song switch in the background. “Okay, James Dean. Just checking.”

Clearing his throat to hide the flush in his cheeks, Jess cracked a smirk. Ella thought she saw something flash across his eyes, but she couldn’t identify it. For the first time since they started dating, there seemed to be a charged energy lingering in the silence between them. Without the music playing, Ella knew she wouldn’t have been able to handle it. She would’ve blurted out everything going through her head, but she refrained. Instead, she watched Jess’s eyes move to her sketchbook on his table, his grin widening.

“Can I look, Miss O’Keefe?” he asked.

Pursing her lips, she let her worry fade and took on a teasing air. “Only if you don’t laugh.”

“Never.”

#jess mariano au #jess mariano fanfiction #jess mariano imagines #jess #mariano #gilmore girls #gilmore girls fanfiction #gilmore girls au #gilmore girls imagines #luke danes #lorelai gilmore #jess mariano x oc #original character #original character stories

[batskulldrag]

Phoenix by Fallout Boy

By now you all probably get the song titles as chapter titles gimmick. Trigger warning, because they will be discussing abuse probably throughout the story

Chapter Eleven: The Fire and The Flood by VanceJoy

Virgil was browsing Tumblr when he heard the phone ring. He lurked out to the head of the stairs and heard someone pick it up.

               “Hi Thomas.” Patton answered.

               Virgil tensed up, he hadn’t heard from CPS since May, what had they dug up this time? Was Thomas going to bring up another hospital visit? Was Payton out of prison, it had been about a month. What if he escaped?

               “Oh,” Patton said into the receiver, sounding disappointed. “That’s good, how is she?”

               “Oh.” Patton said sadly. “I guess I figured.”

               “Does… I know I probably sound horrible, but does this change anything for us?”

               “Ok. I guess there is some good news then. Thanks for keeping us in the loop. Ok, bye.”

               “Roman,” Patton said blankly. “If you wanna start the nicknames back up you can.”

               “They found the dragon?” Roman asked in shock. “Because that reptile can have our emo baby over my moldering corpse.”

               Virgil leaned closer to the conversation. Did his mother want him? Could she actually and after all this time want him back? He felt dizzy. On one hand he didn’t want to hurt his uncles, they had all been amazing to him. But he couldn’t help but feel excited at the idea that his mom could actually love him. What a novel idea. She might love him.

               “You don’t need to fight anyone.” Patton sighed with the weight of the world. “She waved parental rights.”

               Virgil slid to the floor, cursing himself for having the gall to let his hopes build like that. Of course she didn’t want him back. She didn’t want him then. He bit down on the front of his hoodie to keep from crying.

               I should have known! I figured all along! I should have known better than this! Of course she doesn’t want me! Did I really think that she was going to come in after thirteen years and decide she wants me!?! What kind of an idiot would even entertain that stupid idea?!  

               “Does this alter our plans to adopt him?” Logan interrupted the chaos.

               “No.” Patton sighed.

               “Well then, why are you upset?”

               “She doesn’t want him!” Patton said exasperated. “What kind of person says that?”

               “Patton, she knew full well what Payton was capable of and she left a baby with him. Not exactly an example of maternal instinct.”

               “But what are we going to tell Virgil?”

               “Let’s tell him she died.” Roman interrupted. “Car accident, quick and completely unexpected.”

               “We’re not going to lie to him.” Logan replied. “What his mother decided does not determine his value. And it doesn’t change the fact that we’re going to adopt him.”

               “How do we tell him though? How do you tell a kid that their mom would do something that heartless?” Patton whimpered.

               Virgil stood up quietly and slunk back into his room. Knowing that Patton would be looking for him in a second, he turned his computer back on and tried to look like he hadn’t moved in the past hour. Sure enough, Patton knocked on his door.

               “It’s open.” Virgil called casually.

               “Thomas, you know your case worker, called.” Patton began.

               “Did he find more hospital records?” Virgil tried to keep his voice even. “What is he doing checking all of them?”

               “They, uh…”

               “They were able to find your mother.” Logan said calmly. Which is odd, because he basically just teleported into the room.

               “Where did you come from?” Patton yelped in shock.

               “How do you not make any noise when you walk?” Virgil stared at him, utterly confused.

               “I just don’t.” Logan dismissed his amazing stealth powers. “Any way, social services located your mother. She’s living in Italy now.”

               “Good for her.” Virgil looked back at his computer.

               “They got in touch with her and unfortunately…”

               “The good news is you don’t have to learn Italian.” Patton interrupted with the fakest upbeat attitude known to man.

               “Virgil, she waved her parental rights.” Logan sighed. “I’m sorry, but there’s no easy way to say that.”

               “Well.” Virgil heard his voice break a bit. He swallowed hard and continued passively. “I always kind of figured she would. It’s not news to me.”

               Neither of them. Neither of them wants me. How can neither of them want me? How can they both just see me as a mistake? Why did they let it go this far?

               Patton ran a hand through his hair. Virgil leaned into his hand in response. Patton radiated a soothing heat. Not like being trapped in a fire hot, but like a fluffy blanket that just came out of the dryer. Cozy, that was the word. Patton was cozy.

               “You sure you’re ok?” Patton kept petting him.

               “Yeah,” Virgil fought back tears. “This just confirms what I already thought.”

               “Virgil, I want you to know that this doesn’t determine your value.” Logan put a hand on his shoulder. “This isn’t your fault. And Patton and I are still planning to adopt you, that hasn’t changed.”

               “Why?” Virgil felt his resolve start to crack.

               “Because you’re family.” Patton hugged him. “And we want you to be safe.”

               “I mean why doesn’t she…”

               No, don’t you do this! Don’t! don’t cry, don’t cry. Don’t cry!

               “Why doesn’t she love me?” Virgil sobbed, his resolve shattering around him.

               Patton held him while he cried. That’s what Patton does. Logan sat with them, probably extremely uncomfortable with the entire situation. But there none the less.

               Virgil hadn’t really used the word love in a long time. Especially not in reference to his parents. And he definitely hadn’t asked why neither of them loved him in a long time. Hell, he had tried to convince himself that he didn’t care if they loved him or not.

               And then here was Patton and Logan. They thought they loved him, but he wasn’t sure they did. He wasn’t sure they could. He had constantly heard things about how parents are just automatically loving. Apparently, fathers keep you safe and mothers nurture you. And they both love you and want what’s best for you.

               That didn’t fit. Virgil had never met his mother. In fact, she left the continent just to be away from him. And she probably had a new family now, one that she supposedly nurtured, one that he sure as taxes wasn’t a part of. And then there was his dad. Protecting? No. A thousand times no.

               This left him wondering why Patton and Logan thought they loved him. He was a complete stranger to them, and it was starting to look like he was a burden as well. How could they love him? Logan emphasized with him because they had… that in common and Patton probably liked him because he was his nephew. But love? If his own parents didn’t love him, how could these two?

               “It’s ok. It’s not your fault.” Patton continued to pet him.

               “He’s right. This doesn’t reflect on you. It reflects on them.” Logan squeezed his shoulder.

               Virgil pressed his head into Patton’s chest. He had cried in front of them a lot since he wound up here, and they never said anything about it. They just let him. There was no mocking or any consequences. They just let him cry. Just like that.

               “This is stupid.” Virgil pulled away from his uncle. “I knew she didn’t want me. I’ve always known. Why am I even upset?”

               “Just because you know something doesn’t mean it can’t hurt you.” Logan rubbed his back. “And you have every right to be upset.”

               “If its any consolation,” Patton added. “We want you.”

               Why?

               “Ok.” Virgil sighed. “Thank you.”

                                                                               #             #             #    

               “It’s not fair.” Patton mumbled as he and Logan walked down the stairs.

               “I know, but there’s nothing we can do.” Logan wrapped his arm around him. “We can’t change how people think. We just have to be decent people to make up for it.”

               “He was so sad.”

               “He’ll be ok. He’s a strong kid and we’re going to be here to help him.”

               “I guess.” Patton stared at his feet.

               “He’s already made amazing progress.”

               “I know, but.” Patton looked towards Virgil’s room and back at Logan. “All Payton had to do was leave Virgil here when he left. Why? Why did he take the baby?”

               “If there is a god, then only he knows.” Logan sighed.

               “Is he ok?” Roman asked the second he saw them.

               “He’s upset.” Patton sighed.

               “He has every right to be.” Roman glared at the floor. “How do two terrible people make a decent kid? The dragon and Payton are both so vile that I honestly expected their child to hatch from an egg with scales and fangs.”

               “We can’t prove that she didn’t lay an egg.” Patton countered. “And Payton must have gotten some kind of recessive jerk genes. Because Mom was great, and so were our grandparents. And I always try to do the right thing. I wanna be a good person.”

               “You are a good person, Padre.” Roman said immediately. “Just ask anyone.”

               “I don’t know. All of this is kind of my fault.” Patton rubbed his arm.

               “Isn’t it a good thing that Virgil was taken away from his abusive father?” Logan challenged him.

               “I think if I had tried to get custody sooner, then maybe none of this would have happened.” Patton looked at the floor.

               “Well, all we can really do is handle things as they are now.” Logan put a hand on Patton’s shoulder. “We can’t go back in time.”

               “He’s right.” Roman agreed, that was uncommon. “We have to focus on what to do now. The past isn’t going to come back just because we regret it.”

               “Thank goodness for that.” Logan added.

               “Ok.” Patton sighed. “All that matters is now.”

                                                                               #             #             #

               Logan exhaled hard and got out of bed. Patton mumbled incoherently and wrapped himself around his pillow, still sound asleep. Logan smiled down at him before grabbing one of his books and leaving the room.

               Logan had dealt with insomnia for about as long as he could remember. He was diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder in college, but his doctor believed that he developed it when he was a kid. The one and only thing he got from normalization therapy. Even the name sounded like a horror movie cult. He shook that off. It was over now.

               As he entered the living room, he heard the shower running. He looked at the clock, now wondering if it was morning already. No, it was about two am. So, who was taking a shower at this time of the night?

               He could be sure that it wasn’t Patton. And Roman probably wouldn’t be up, unless he was just now getting ready for bed. Which he was prone to do. But, the most likely option was that it was Virgil. Now the only question was why.

               Virgil lurked into the living room wearing his black hoodie and a pair of grey sweatpants and drying his hair with a towel. Logan sighed in relief, thankful beyond words that Virgil wasn’t naked. Logan tried to figure out how to make himself known without metaphorically scaring the life out Virgil.

               But, as it turned out, Virgil was far more alert than anyone had considered and the very next thing he did was look up. He yelped softly and shoved his towel over his mouth to keep from screaming, startled by Logan’s sudden appearance.

               “Sorry,” Logan held out his hands. “I didn’t mean to scare you. It’s just me.”

               “Geeze!” Virgil squeaked. “Where did you come from? Why are you standing in the middle of the living room? Why are you a ninja ghost?”

               “I came downstairs because I couldn’t sleep.” Logan quickly explained. “I wasn’t expecting anyone else to be up.”

               “Then we feel the same.” Virgil sighed. “I think you took twenty years off my life. That’s an expression.”

               “I know it’s an expression.”

               “Why are you up?”

               “I told you, I couldn’t sleep.”

               “Yeah, but why?”

               “I have PTSD. It keeps me from sleeping sometimes.”

               “Yeah, that’s a thing that people casually mention.” Virgil added sarcastically.

               “I realize that you’re being sarcastic. But I feel no shame over things that I can’t control. I am defined by what I do, not by what is done to me.”

               “That’s pretty.” Virgil commented blankly. “How did you come to have PTSD, if you don’t mind my asking?”

               “There was a practice called ‘Quiet Hands’ in which autistic children were kept from stimming. If they didn’t stop on command they would be restrained. Many children developed trauma disorders thanks to this.”

               “What’s stimming?”

               “Stimming is something autistic people use to express or process feelings. Usually through repeated actions but sometimes verbally by repeating a word or phrase. I normally clap my hands.”

               “When you say restrained, I’m picturing straightjackets and gurneys.” Virgil looked at him for assurance that he was wrong.

               “No, the therapist just grabbed my hands and held them in place. But I’m sure she was also thinking about straightjackets.”

               “Geeze, at least Payton let me talk.” Virgil looked at the floor. “I mean, I don’t think he ever listened to me. Unless he wanted to insult me. But that was one of the few things I never got hit for.”

               “Virgil.” Logan walked up to him and put a hand on his shoulder. “Why are you awake?”

               “I wet the bed again.” Virgil grimaced and tensed up as if he were bracing himself.

               “Well, make a note to talk about that with Emile in your next session. Until then, maybe you ought to avoid fluids after nine.”

               “That’s it?” Virgil looked up at him skeptically. “You’re not mad, you’re not gonna make fun of me? Just that?”

               “I’d like to think that I can react to things without resorting to violence.” Logan adjusted his glasses. “Especially when dealing with the mundane.”

               “Uncle Logan,” Virgil hesitated and bit his lip. “How… how did you manage to… I don’t know. How’d you start trusting people?”

               “That was a slow process.” Logan sighed. “I think the first people I ever trusted were Roman and his brother. I met them in middle school, and they were nice to me, treated me like a human. I was wary of the pair at first, but they just kind of… got through to me. I don’t remember deciding to trust either of them, but I guess I did.”

               “Ok.” Virgil looked at the ceiling.

               “I also want you to understand that trust has to be earned. I trusted Roman because he treated me decently and didn’t take advantage.”

               “Do I…” He kept his eyes on the ceiling. “Do I have to testify against my dad?”

               “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” Logan tilted Virgil’s head back towards him. “If you’re not comfortable facing him, then no one is going to make you.”

               “I don’t want to be afraid of him.” His voice shook.

               “I know.” Logan knelt to eye level. “But it’s ok if you are. It’s a normal reaction. And what’s most important, is he is never getting his hands on you again.”

               “What if he fights this? You know him, you know he will.”

               “He doesn’t have a metaphorical leg to stand on. The evidence against him continuously grows. He has backed himself into the proverbial corner to end all corners.”

               “What if he just drags this out until you can’t afford to fight him?” He had tears in his eyes now.

               “Virgil, we’re only suing him as a formality so we can include you on our health insurance. Even if he somehow keeps custody, he’s still going to prison for arson. And he’s going to stay there until you’re twenty. This isn’t the video game boss fight. This is the moment when we all get to watch his actions come back to haunt him.”

               “What if they don’t believe me?”

               “This isn’t ‘he says you say,’ no one in their right mind would believe him over evidence.”

               “He put me in the hospital last year.” Virgil said quickly in ragged breaths.

               “We know, I’m sorry.” Logan soothed.

               “He…he.” Virgil wrapped his arms around himself. “He told them I couldn’t have morphine.”

               “Why?” He knew but couldn’t stop himself from asking.

               “I guess he wanted me to be in pain.” Virgil whimpered. “And he wanted to prove a point. Like the doctors believed him, and they never asked me. And they took his word for it.”

               “It’s ok. It’s ok.” Logan hugged him. “It’s over now. You’re safe now. I promise. I swear to you that he is never getting you back.”

               “But they…”

               “Did an unbelievably stupid thing by not checking your records.” Logan cut him off. “And this situation is completely different from that one. This time you have people on your side. And we have more than enough evidence to keep him from so much as writing you a letter.”

               “Yeah?” He squeaked.

               “Virgil, when I first came here Patton and his mother promised me that I would never go back to my parents.” Logan pulled back to look him in the eyes. “And I’m making you that same promise. To borrow a phrase from Roman: Payton can have you over my moldering corpse.”

               Virgil buried his face in Logan’s shoulder.

               “Uncle Logan, have you seen your parents since then? Like bumped into them in the mall or the post office or something?”

               “I have. But admittedly, I just duck out quickly to avoid being seen by them. Sometimes we can forget that our parents are mortal.”

               “What,” Virgil leaned back. “Like they’re gods or demons or something?”

               “Yes. Exactly.”

               Virgil nuzzled back into Logan’s shoulder and sat there quietly for a minute. Logan ran his fingers through the younger man’s hair.

               “I’ll do it.” Virgil mumbled. “I wanna testify against him.”

               “Are you sure?” Logan asked, surprised. “You don’t have to, and you don’t have to decide right now.”

               “I know.” Virgil nodded. “But, I’m not gonna be afraid of him anymore. And I want him to know that he doesn’t scare me. I’m done being his plaything.”

               “Ok.” Logan stroked his hair. “I want you to think about it for a while though. Ok?”

               “Ok.”

               “I mean it. If you want to do this, then great. But if not, you don’t have to.”

               “I know.”

               “Ok.” Logan let him go. “Do you want one of your pills?”

               “No. I think I’ll be able to get back to sleep.”

               “Ok. Good night.”

               “Good night.” Virgil hugged him. “And thank you.”

               Virgil returned to his room and Logan pulled himself off the floor. Despite making sure his nephew knew that he didn’t have to testify against Payton, he was incredibly proud that he wanted to. The ability to stand up to your abuser like that took proverbial guts and a whole lot of real courage. Logan knew that. And he realized that Virgil knew that too. And more importantly, this meant that Virgil was beginning to realize that Payton was wrong. And that alone was worth everything.

               Logan was surprised to find himself yawning. It seemed that his conversation had bedded down his own metaphorical demons. It at least reminded him that he was dealing with thoughts rather than monsters. Simple, easy to defeat memories. He smiled to himself and walked back to his and Patton’s room, half remembering the times when he played with the baby in the middle of the night because neither of them could sleep.

               Payton’s son, not so much. But his. His and Patton’s. Logan laughed softly.

               Who would have ever thought of him as a dad?

                                                                               #             #             #

               “Mwaah.” Patton gleefully enunciated as he pressed the chess horsey into Logan’s cheek.

               “Are you pleased with yourself?” Logan asked stoically.

               “Nay-be.”

               Virgil laughed from his place across from Logan. Finally. Someone who liked dad jokes.

               Logan and Virgil started playing chess after dinner, Virgil called black the second he saw the board, leaving Logan with white. In the meantime, Roman occasionally piped in to annoy Logan, and Patton played with all the defeated pieces. Virgil had knocked down one of Logan’s horses and Logan had used his pointy face to kill one of Virgil’s castles. And all the knobby boys had been defeated.

               “You’re quite good.” Logan said amusedly as his pointy face took out Virgil’s other castle. “But I think you play it a little too safe. You’re mostly using your pieces to block the king and queen. It might do you better to play offensively.”

               “There should be a prince character. Or at least a dragon.” Roman added, fiddling with the castle. “If you’re going to make things up, at least make a fun game out of it.”

               “What part of chess is made up?” Logan eyed him.

               “This isn’t how battles work, for one.” Roman listed. “And chess has walking castles. How is that realistic?”

               “Sounds like Roman wants to play D and D.” Virgil chimed in. “Uncle Logan, my queen kills your bishop.”

               Patton took the pointy face.

               “Excellent move.” Logan’s eyes lit up. “But you already lost your rooks, a fatal error.”

               “I would rather die standing than live kneeling.” Virgil grinned.

               “Members of the clergy don’t fight in wars.” Roman added, dumbfounded.

               “What if god told them to?” Virgil asked. “Like the crusades?”

               Before Roman could argue, his phone rang.

               “I fear for the worst.” Roman sighed before answering. “Hello?”

               Roman listened for a moment.

               “Hang on one second, I need to embarrass my nephew.” Roman pressed his phone against his chest and looked at Virgil. “Verge, they need a nude model for the still life class at the civic center, they asked for you by name. They offered to pay extra if you still have that birthmark.”

               “HOW DO YOU KNOW ABOUT THAT!!!??” Virgil yelped, jumping up and pulling his shirt over the back of his pants. He was completely red.

               “I used to babysit you a lot. That includes changing diapers and giving baths.”

               “I’m in hell.” Virgil said blankly.

               “I’ll be over in ten minutes.” Roman said to the other end of the phone and hung up. “I extend my apologies, but I am needed in other places.”

               “I still don’t understand how you can do that.” Patton shivered. “The idea of it terrifies me.”

               “Trust me Padre, I’m not the one who is exposed.”

               “Hi, I’m Virgil,” Virgil introduced himself. “I’m new here and don’t know what you’re talking about.”

               “Roman occasionally works as a nude model for a still life class.” Logan answered.

               “I’m sorry I asked.” Virgil grimaced.

               “It’s not sexual.” Roman emphasized. “It’s like drawing a tree.”

               “But you still stand there, in front of all those people.” Patton blushed. “And they draw you… naked.”

               “Patton, I was saving this.” Roman sighed. “But I’ll pull it out now if I must.”

               “No, please. I’m a minor.” Virgil pulled his hood over his eyes.

               “I was not talking about… THAT!” Roman blushed. “I would never! That! Get your mind out of the gutter!”

               “Virgil embarrassed Roman.” Patton announced. “Logan mark the calendar. Someone embarrassed Roman.”

               “I never thought I’d see the day.” Logan added.

               “Right.” Roman said as he walked towards the door. “I shall see you in a few hours.”

               “Wait, what were you gonna say?” Patton asked foolishly.

               “Just.” Roman stared evilly. “That you and Logan think you’re so quiet. Love you, bye.”

               The door closed. Patton and Logan both looked at each other in horror.

               “I am going to pretend that didn’t happen.” Virgil said quickly. “Who’s Roman? Uncle Logan, it’s your move. Try to kill my queen.”

               Logan shook off his shock and looked down at the board. Using his queen, he killed Virgil’s. Patton took the dead queen.

               “So, you think you can stone me and spit in my eye?” Virgil sang.

               “So, you think you can love me and leave me to diiiie?” Patton gleefully continued.

               “I believe it’s your move, Freddie.” Logan smiled.

               Virgil sent one of his horses over to Logan’s queen.

               “No time for losers.” Logan killed the horse with his queen.

               “That’s the wrong song.” Virgil sent over his other horsey. “But I am losing.”

               “I can’t tell who’s winning.” Patton added happily.

               Patton’s two boys played for a few more minutes.

               “Check mate.” Logan announced calmly.

               “And now a Shakespearean paly will start in what is left of my country.” Virgil looked down at the board. “Good game Uncle Logan.”  

               “You played very well yourself.” Logan smiled. “And you called all the pieces by their proper names. A rarity in this household.”

               “If you keep on talking Logan,” Patton lead on. “You might get…”

               “Do not do it.” Logan stared at him.

               “A little horse.” Patton popped the horsey up from under the table.

               “Hey, Uncle Patton.” Virgil called, holding one of the horses up over the board. “It’s a horse fly.”

               “Of all the things to be hereditary.” Logan sighed.

               “Ok, we’ll stop… horsing around.”

               “I married you.” Logan said stunned.

               “Last one. I promise.” Virgil set his horsey down. “The dark knight.”

               “That was actually funny.” Logan said angrily.

               “Oh! I have a great idea!” Patton hopped up and down a bit. “Meet me in the living room.”

               Patton darted upstairs to his closet and pulled out three of his scrap books. Scrapbooking was a personally favorite of his, memories and glitter. And decorating. It was the best.

               He checked to make sure they were the books he wanted and darted downstairs with them. Both Logan and Virgil were waiting for him on the couch. He nestled himself between them and opened the first book.

               “I was wondering when you were going to pull these out.” Logan said, putting his arm around him.

               “Well, we need to show Virgil.” Patton beamed and turned to his little anxious baby. “You’re going to be these a lot more now. We need to make up for lost time.”

               “Ok?” Virgil looked confused.

               “Ok. Here’s me in freshmen year of high school.” Patton pointed down at the first picture on the page.

               “What the hell happened?” Virgil looked on in pure shock.

               In the picture Patton was smiling from behind some incredibly thick braces that made his teeth look like iron plates. They almost looked worse than the head gear that accompanied them.

               “Oh, I tried to do a flip. You know, the kind where you run up the wall?” Patton explained. “And I face planted into a tree and knocked out my two front teeth.”

               “Years of corrective dental treatments ensued.” Logan added.

               “My favorite piece was the retainer with two fake teeth in it.” Patton smiled. “I pulled some funny pranks with that one. I’m almost sad that I got permanent implants.”

               “So, you used to take your teeth out and harass people with them?” Virgil made a face of disgust and intrigue.

               “He mostly just held them out to people and asked if he had something in his teeth.” Logan answered. “It wasn’t very funny.”

               “Sure, it was.” Patton added, moving on to the next few pictures. “Here’s me and Payton at Easter, Mom always had us dress up all nice so she could take pictures. And here’s me and Payton as altar boys. And us at Christmas.”

               He turned the page and was hit with several play brochures. And one picture of Roman, clad in a dress of green and orange taffeta that clashed horridly in a sultry pose with the stupidest look on his face.

               “Why?” Virgil asked, stunned.

               “Roman got to play Mona in Cinderella’s Mice.” Patton explained. “He wanted to be the prince, but he had a lot of fun with his character.”

               “Wow. Must have been a great show when he came out.” Virgil retorted.

               “Nearly everyone claimed to have ‘called it’ if I remember correctly.” Logan added.

               “Oh, here it is.” Patton clapped his hands happily.

               Centered in the page was a group photo of him, Logan, Roman and Remus all in different dresses. The twins went all out, naturally, with Roman in a red satin prom dress with matching shoes and purse. And Remus wearing a tight black leather skirt, fishnet stockings, knee length stiletto boots and a green blouse tied around his chest so that his entire stomach, complete with a long pink scar, showed. Logan was more subtle, wearing a floor length black skirt to complement his black polo shirt and blue tie. Patton himself had borrowed one of his mother’s dresses. A beautiful blue sundress with a yellow floral pattern, he accessorized with a white sunhat that had a long yellow ribbon tied in a bow. They were the prettiest boys in the school.

               “He’s real.” Virgil gasped, looking right at Remus’s picture.

               “Of course, he’s real.” Logan responded. “Did you think we were gaslighting you?”

               “I just kinda thought that no one was that crazy.”

               “Remus really isn’t as bad as Patton makes him sound.”

               “He bit Payton.” Patton argued. “Hard enough to draw blood. And what about when he got his glass eye? How many people did he terrorize with that?”

               “Now he only has one eye?” Virgil interrupted. “Are we sure he’s real?”

               “He has both eyes.” Logan explained. “He just also has a glass eye that he would torment people with.”

               “Let’s just move on.” Patton tried to stifle his gag reflex, he did not, ever, want to think about Remus’s eye again. “Here’s all the petitions that came out of it. The petition from the super religious kids saying that guys should be banned from wearing skirts. Roman’s petition that says if they do that, girls shouldn’t be allowed to wear pants, for the double standard. Logan’s essay slash petition saying that pants were originally a female garment and skirts were worn by men, so the girls should have to only wear pants and the guys only wear skirts. Then Remus sent out one saying that we need to ban the dress code all together and just show up to school naked. A petition to stop all petitions, one to repaint the school with reflective paint so that it’ll be invisible, one to tear down the school and build a strip club, and my favorite, one to move the state of Florida four feet and seven inches to the right.”

               That one did it, Virgil doubled over laughing. He actually fell off the couch and curled up on the floor, crying from laughing. And it was adorable. He had the cutest little laugh, his face got all red and he closed his eyes so tight. He was just the most precious little baby.

               Coughing and sniffling, Virgil climbed back onto the couch. He chuckled lightly to himself as he sat down and turned his attention back to the book.

               Patton turned the page and saw his brother, dressed to the nines with a dark-haired girl on his arm. He was taking her to the spring fling or some other school function.

               Wow, Virgil looks like his dad. A bit darker, but that must be from his mom. He definitely has her hair. Different freckles from Payton, but it’s undeniably his genes that put them there. He looks so much like him in the face, the shape is identical. It’s uncanny.

               “Is that her?” Virgil asked softly, also seeming transfixed by the image.

               “Yeah. That’s her.” Patton said numbly.

               He couldn’t even muster up the ability to hate her. Patton felt nothing for her. She abandoned her baby and left him with Payton of all people. Sure, Payton probably was rotten to her, as he was to most people he was close to, but she left a baby with him. Could Virgil really mean so little to her? Mean nothing?

               “You ok Uncle P?” Virgil looked up at him.

               “It’s nothing.” Patton shook his head.

               Virgil stared down at the picture with a curious glimmer in his eyes. He opened his mouth as if he were going to say something, but instead bit his lip and started chewing on his one of his band aids. He looked away quickly, the hint of longing still reflected in his brown irises.

               “Do you wanna know what she was like kiddo?” Patton asked chipperly as he fought back the ice.

               “No.” Virgil didn’t look up. “I don’t care.”

               Patton and Logan met each other’s eyes. They both knew he was lying. He might as well have tried to tell them the moon was invisible.

               “Well, she was very pretty. And very talented. And very popular.” Patton said with a smile. “And she can’t have been shallow, after all, Payton isn’t exactly a ten.”

               “I said I don’t care.” Virgil turned the page. “For all I care she had three eyes.”

               The next page was covered in Virgil’s baby pictures. One featured Roman grinning proudly as he stood beside a paper mâché egg that had been broken in half horizontally. He had positioned Virgil, no more than a week old so that his lower half was inside the shell as the rest of him lay asleep outside it. On the baby’s head, carefully positioned, was the smallest part or the egg that he now wore as a hat.

               “Roman never did like your mom.” Logan added blankly. “He constantly called her a dragon.”

               What the liar didn’t add was that he was taking the picture. Logan was no saint when it came to either of Virgil’s biological parents. As the moth food story would prove.

               “It’s a cute picture though.” Patton changed the subject.

               Virgil sat there quietly with a faraway look in his eyes. He chewed on one of his band aids robotically, pensively.

               Patton suddenly realized that this was the first time Virgil had ever seen a picture of his mom. And up until now all he knew about her was… was that she didn’t want him. Patton wrapped his arm around Virgil and snuggled up to him. There were times when it was easier to talk with cuddles, this was one of them.

               “You thinking big thoughts sweetie?” Patton asked gently.

               “What?” Virgil laughed.

               “Sorry, that’s what I ask my kids when they zone out. It’s another substitute for ‘penny for your thoughts’ that sounds more fun.”

               “That just means if I tell you, I don’t get any cookies.” Virgil reasoned.

               “Trust me, Patton will gladly distribute sweets.” Logan added.

               “I’m fine.” Virgil smiled. “I was just going over that chess game in my head. I plan to win the next one.”

               “Plans change.” Logan adjusted his glasses smoothly.

               “Damn.” Virgil whispered in admiration.

               “Oh, here’s a picture of you and mom.” Patton squeaked. “She loved you so much.”

               “She wasn’t mad to be a young grandmother?” Virgil raised an eyebrow.

               “Well, when Hazel left you with Payton, mom didn’t want to put you up for adoption. But she wasn’t gonna force Payton to be a parent, so I think she was just planning to keep you. But she got sick.”

               Virgil rubbed Patton’s arm softly to console him.

               “I’m ok, Sweetie.” Patton sighed. “That was a long time ago.”

               Patton looked for another picture to distract them from all the bad feelings that hung heavy in the air. His eyes landed on one of Logan asleep on the couch, Virgil sound asleep in his heavily bruised arms. Despite Logan’s protests, he still blamed himself for that.

               “Here’s you and Logan.” Patton chirped. “You were maybe about five months old. The pictures aren’t exactly in sequence. But you loved him when you were little.”

               “Really?” Virgil briefly looked up from the image.

               “You did. Whenever you saw him you started clapping your little hands.”

               Logan rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. Patton never could figure out why he always reacted that way to Virgil’s clapping at him.

               “And here’s a picture from when you said your first word.” Logan pointed to a different part of the page. “Yes, I realize how odd that may sound.”  

               The picture showed Patton holding the baby while crying excitedly.

               “Your first word was pat.” Patton beamed.

               “How exciting.” Virgil said blankly.

               “He’s happy because you were trying to say ‘Patton’.” Logan explained.

               “It was so adorable.”

               Virgil smiled slightly at them, but he didn’t say anything. Instead he snuggled up to Patton and listened contentedly as they reminisced.

               Patton sighed happily. Virgil didn’t feel as light and fragile as he had when he first came to stay. He had gained a nice amount of weight back and felt much warmer, not like a fever warm as he had felt, but a normal body heat type of warmth. The kind that means someone is healthy.

               Patton wished once again for his camera to immortalize this moment but instead he continued showing Virgil the pictures. He had a better wish in mind. He wished that moments like this would be frequent. That these times would be commonplace and that he would never be able to recall a specific one, because there were just so many.

               From now on his little anxious baby would never again have to wonder if anyone loved him.

               “Aww,” Patton said out loud as he turned the page. “Here’s one of your little birthmark.”

               The birthmark in question was a patch of red skin with three accompanying spots above it that was just between Virgil’s lower back and his bottom. Roman often teased that he would be growing a tail, while Patton insisted that it looked like a paw print.

               “We’re not talking about the birthmark.” Virgil turned the page, beet red.

               Patton and Logan both laughed.

#logicallity #parental anological #parental moxiety #platonic lamp #romanisanuncle #sanders sides human au #pattonsanders #logan sanders #romansanders #virgilsanders

[mastcrplanncr-a]

issue #23 made me really heccin’ emo over eggman and sonic. i was prepared for it, but also ?? not prepared??? holy frick im just gonna ramble under the cut.

first of all, i’m just gonna’ idly ramble about some things i noticed.

Eggman, literally 11 issues ago:

he makes these off remarks and then changes his mind whenever it’s convenient for him smh. that or hes a freaking liar and. WELL THAT’S PRETTY TRUE HONESTLY.

i’ma be honest fam starline is a freaking mood rn. it’s ?? so dumb?? LIKE EGGMAN WHERE IS YOUR FUCKING FAILSAFE UR SOLUTION WAS “not touching the robots hurr durr” PL EASE.

In retrospect, though, this is an interesting parallel to Forces because he’d apparently learned from his mistakes. TBF, and it has been brought up elsewhere on tumblr, this is a man recovering from amnesia. He must’ve just not gotten to that part. OR HE’S JUST. DUMB AND ARROGANT. Like, yeah, sure, there’s no vaccine - lol the heroes can’t fix anything & it also means you’re valuable because you’re the one person who can. BUT COME ON EGGMAN.

my friend actually predicted this holy shit. i was rambling abt a discussion we had in the egg cult, where we were talking about the possibility of sonic infecting eggman to blackmail him into getting the cure because he’s reached the point?? hes so done with eggman’s shit??? all his friends are in danger and hes backed into a wall what else is he to do than do the one thing he doesn’t want to: use eggman’s tactics against him?

and my friend was like:

LIKE. IT IS A HUGE RISK, and Sonic went FOR IT. I’M SCREAMING TBH.

THIS CONFRONTATION WAS SO FUCKING RAW YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND. I thought I was ready for it but I really, REALLY wasn’t. I love the little details of Starline bein’ like: “oh fuck” - usually he’s pretty cocky around Sonic but uh. HE’S INFECTED NOW. And the zero remark - idk if that’s intentional on the writer’s part but ZERO TO HERO anyone?

anyway toxi broke down crying at this point. you have no idea how much i was sobbing over my blue son just. pouring out his heart to his nemesis. that’s top tier tearjerking material.  also starline passive aggressively readjusting his outfit lmfao. BITCH IM FABULOUS. but man the usage of ‘ BE’ and ‘LIKE’ - Sonic knows who Eggman is; he’d never ask him to be something he’s not. but it’s also a reiteration of sonic’s want to see good in him; being LIKE tinker is a statement in that he wanted eggman to be who he was, but NOT to go back. to do good for the world. have it be his own decision, because deep deep down:

isn’t that what he really wants?

Also, although there are those sickly sweet descriptions, the usage of ellipses in this narrative really fucks me up because you can practially hear the gradual realization in eggman’s voice. his mockery starts out so !!! but it just eventually gets straight to the point, as a list. as a routine. because he was used to it. and because, some part of him misses it. notice the usage of ‘need’ and ‘use’. they needed him, and yet he used the people that appreciated him sm like puppets.

some nice guilt there, huh, doc?

ALSO I SPENT LIKE, HOURS TRYING TO FIND THIS EXACT DIALOGUE, but Eggman has a conversation in Dark Brotherhood with Sonic and makes this remark:

LIKE??? this isn’t new to his character, actually? Ignoring the ken penders thing bc smh. Going by this game he’s actually kind of okay with that set up. And he just works so well with the others too??? this isn’t even taking into account the other games he’s teamed up with them. I’m sorry but my head just goes back to this line so many times; it’s one of the ones that stick with me, along with ‘complicated guy’ from lost world. HE COULD!! legitimately do good. and he actually doesn’t find it too bad??? IM EMO MAN...

and IMAGINE making super cool things that people genuinely like... eggman has a HUGE ego, that much is very apparent; he’s super big on appreciation as comes with. and with tinker? he had that - he felt appreciated and loved. people LIKED what he made, and he didn’t have to bend over backwards to have that. his work felt included and he didn’t have to take that appreciation by force like he did with his lackeys (which half the time was fake anyway) .

first and foremost - WE SEE THAT OPEN YOUR HEART REFERENCE, IDW. also sonic’s frustration here, in comparison to the lil smile the panel before - he’s just!! “WHY CANT YOU WAKE THE FRICK UP OLD MAN”. the justification here seems a tad bit like DENIAL to me. and the justification seems... kind of odd from him? since when does EGGMAN justify anything he does? He does what he wants and when he wants, because he’s the E.G.G.M.A.N. he doesn’t care what anyone thinks... right?

it’s because - especially with the usage of better - he didn’t like where that train of thought was going. for once, he’s justifying himself - because the alternative is admitting sonic is right. that he did like that life. that he’d want to go back. throw it in a hierachy and it’s all so simple, right?

also the inclusion of open your heart lyrics here. the incident with chaos was just as catastrophic. and these lyrics in context of the previous panel, highlights how sonic and eggman both seek unity and peace but in their own ways; eggman’s is just evil. it seems a little bit of a diversion to me - to antagonise sonic and make him forget about it. what better way to do that than to relate to him? ‘own styles that we won’t change’ highlights a stubbornness in ways, too, especially with the current context of eggman denying his old life. ALSO IT IS LITERALLY TELLING EGGMAN TO OPEN HIS HEART.

and ngl this seems like idle banter to hide the fact he genuinely felt remorse for his actions for a second. because lbr he has a habit of being all talk when a plan goes wrong or suffering inside,

which starline does quite pointedly explain.

As I was saying above, Sonic has no choice in what to do now - he’s reaching his limit. OR ELSE. hes pondering doing the thing he doesnt want to do. and honestly, ‘you can’t stop me. no one can,’ is so hardhitting not just because of its looming threat, but because of how much it solidifies for sonic that he can’t take the chance anymore. if anyone is going to change eggman, it has to be himself.

also can i just cry over how much sonic trusts tails. im getting sa2 flashbacks.

also man i’d like to point out the specific use of ‘lock you away forever’. it coooould be a reference to sonic’s time imprisoned during the events of sonic forces. bitterness?

NOT SAYING I CALLED IT, BUT I CALLED IT. it still hurts though. and wow, it really is horrifying when eggman fears his own heccin’ creation, huh?

i live for sonic being passive aggressive with eggman. give me more please.

im immensely concerned the direction starline is going, honestly. but it does say a lot about eggman; how he’ll keep trying the same things expecting different results, but failing and never seeing that. because he’s EGGMAN; every plan is brilliant by default!

i love how sonic just !!! SHOT... THE MOMENT HE WAS REMINDED WHAT WAS AT STAKE. son i love you so much you’re doing great sweetie

also, man, can we talk about eggman avoiding his blatant faults, and shoving his failures onto someone else? because this little scene here - eggman ur literally the one who crashed the thing. it had absolutely nothing to do with sonic. i feel as though this is symbolism of his self-destructive nature, honestly. hes always gotta make things harder for himself. (also starline’s face is killing me)

Eggman does what he has to, but technology won’t work every time you kick it. he thinks he can get everything through force but we have several instances in idw where force did NOT work out; you’re not gonna get far, egghead.

MHM, and just who does that sound like, Eggman? honestly the mirrors between these two are seriously destroying me. although sonic is in a horrible position, so is eggman; he likes to think he’s won the war, but hes surpassed his own expectations, and that’s going to backfire on him eventually. hes stubborn to admit he has NO REIGN over this and they’re all doomed, so he’s pinning his failures / loss on Sonic.

is that the amnesia kicking ya in the shin, eggman? or sonic’s reality check? either way, the doc hates emotions. dammit man why you gotta make him emo

future eggman is going to kick past eggman in the kneecaps. it’s times like this ur reminded how much of a kid he is. eugh but that’s work i want my victory and senseless destruction now. honestly if the doc is after success, he is certainly not getting it this way and I AM FEARING FOR EVERYONE’S LIVES. he’ll probably have to work with what’s left of the resistance like the back end of most games at some point.

I’m getting a little burnt out but i can’t forget my son and how much he hurts me.

first of all that third panel terrifies me. the fact it GOT that far does me great concern. the RED EYES? that’s pushing it fam i dont like that. the expressions are also just freaking destroying me; they’ve been PERFECT this issue. and the fact sonic is at his weakest when he feels like he’s failed everyone hurts me deeply. he has SO much on his shoulders and its getting too overwhelming for him.

also man... the whole thing with eggman... just stuff me man. but it hurts all the more because it’s so glaringly clear that there is?? some good in eggman??? he just. doesn’t want to admit it. and unfortunately these aren’t good circumstances to debate on that.

ANYWAY, THAT ISSUE WAS AGONY AND IM STILL REELING AND HAVENT EVEN. TALKED ALL THAT MUCH ABOUT SONIC HERE (on account of this being eggman’s blog) but idk if i’ll write anything on that.

gonna go cry about an egg now brb

#▷ 𝙊𝙃 ; 𝙎𝙃𝙐𝙏 𝙐𝙋! ( .ooc ) #sonic idw spoilers #idw spoilers #long post #tw: swearing

[sun-to-my-luna]

#XVIII

― the time has come.

The focus of today is Camila’s self-titled album “Camila.” Depending on the person music has a variety of interpretation, and today we’ll be looking {into it}, and at other things.  Not from the average CS perspective. Not from the general public perspective, but from a totally different perspective.

ps. want to mention beforehand that I know I don’t usually talk about darker shit, but because it makes sense I feel like I should.

Anyways as we all know IHQ was placed in the intro of the “CITC” MV for promotional reasons, and they both  weren’t  put onto her album.  IHQ  was simply released as a single for the sole purpose of drama. It either left everyone wondering who it was really about, or confirmed the narrative that there was a nonexistent grudge.

When someone first listens to “I Have Questions” it sounds like a somber song aimed at a love interest, or possibly the girls of Fifth Harmony. Butー there’s one possibility no one seems to think about.

Maybe the song is towards multiple people, or at least for someone else. “Them” or those that control every aspect of her life except for what’s actually private.

This theoretical analysis will be divided into three parts.

When this was posted the “LAND vs. C” narrative had already been put into motion. Everyone else (GP) was lead to believe that the song was supposedly about the group when in fact it most likely wasn’t. The girls were out having fun...but Camila was stuck  in a hotel bathroom all day writing songs? It doesn’t make sense, unless she was actually being forced to work on her album...which was later delayed on purpose.

I.

I’ll start with this string of tweets.

The guy in the tweet above is the SND at Interscope Records, and he is giving a power statement in that tweet  that says, “ They work for you. You do as you’re told,” or “You don’t tell them how to do their job.”

That same day underneath that tweet he received a comment from Chippy who I completely agreed with, but “Marcus” here  seemed to disagree, and answered back sarcastically.

Then on May 27th he tweeted this. *cough* Are you referring to MJ? *cough*

I noticed this tweet on a different account run by someone else from the #E*** clan.

“ーThe Artist is doing mostly all of the work, & the label is just the #plug. The machine.. labels don’t even care if an artist doesn’t sell, they’re making money from streaming & singles & shenanigans (PR, Scandals, and Media..etc.)”

He’s right, but the thing I found the most interesting is he used the term “ machine” (similar to Chely Wright) to describe the big labels.

II.

***This next section is going to get a bit dark.***

All kinds of stuff has been mentioned on my blog before like “the dark web”, but nothing quite similar to the level of this. I’m going to explain it only briefly.

Commercial cult manipulation:

What is a cult? A cult is a group of people who organize around a strong authority figure in this case a multi-level marketing organization,  aka. “Major Label.”  Cults attempt to expand their influence for the purpose of money. They change someone’s old identity with a new one. The person may not have chosen that identity.

Before a celebrity becomes a“celebrity” in the entertainment industry they’re a normal person with a normal life under the radar.  After they get into a position of  known status they have to maintain  an image (that they don’t choose), and  they need to maintain their brand. 

Because that’s what they become, a brand that makes other  people money.

Edgar Schein described the process of “coercive persuasion” as a 3 stage process.

“an unfreezing of the identity” - breaking the person down

“changing” -  the change that should happen to the person

“refreezing” - Reinforcing the new identity.  

Everyone in Fifth Harmony had been assigned a certain role since the beginning, and if you watch interviews you’ll see that clearly enough. We’ve even mentioned here on tumblr before; how they break an artist down only to  build that artist’s image up again, and that’s a constant change.

a.

Mind Control:

Bare in mind:  mind control in a cult setting is a system that messes with someone’s identity

Mind control is not brainwashing

The people involved unwittingly participate, by cooperating with their controllers, and giving them private information that they don’t  know will be used against them.  Mind control in a commercial cult setting is achieved by placing a person in a social environment where in order to function, they have to replace their old identity, and adhere to the new identity.

Emotional Control:

Fear and guilt are central to any thought reform/mind control program. Cult tactics include:  inducing fears and phobias  in group members to allow the leadership to maintain control. Members can  believe that all sorts of horrible things may happen if they don't follow the  rules.

For example: If you come out, then you’ll lose fans or won’t have a career.

Alyson Stoner:

+ Plus many more.

They lose the freedom to choose for themselves, the freedom to do what they want, have the relationships they want or even eat what they like.

“Mind control may be largely understood by analysis of the three components described by Leon Festinger, a psychologist, in what has become known as the "cognitive dissonance theory.”“

These components are control of behavior, control of thoughts, and control of emo­tions.

b.

Behavior Control:

Behavior control is the regulation of an individual's physical reality. It includes the control of his environment— what clothing he wears, what food he eats, how much sleep he gets—as well as  other actions he performs.

This need for behavior control is the reason most cults give a very rigid schedule for their members.

We know they’re always over-working her.

 In addition, new diets and eating schedules also can have a disorienting effect. (Lost a little wight because I wasn’t eating.) After someone has been broken down, they must be built up again as the "new man" (or "new woman," as the case may be.)

In a mind control environment, freedom of choice is the first thing that one loses. The reason for that loss is  simple: the cult member is no longer themselves. Then, without warning, they seem to become their old self, with their old attitudes and mannerisms. Just as suddenly, they flip back to being a stranger.

Now obviously I’m not saying they’re a part of commercial cult manipulation. What I’m saying is there’s so much more shit that happens in the music industry  that we don’t know if they could be or not.   Cardi B has said it herself on instagram live, “ People have evil intentions around you. The Music Industry is more fucked up than the streets. The streets are way easier.” Anyways with that being:

III.

Lyrical  Analysis―

Why did you leave me here to burn?

 I’m way too young to be this hurt.

I feel doomed in hotel rooms staring straight up at the wall.

Camila was no longer a part of the Fifth Harmony partnership which means she was rarely getting paid for merch, and for preforming. They were forcibly making her a solo artist while she was still in the group, and they were most likely feeding her ideas  about it since 2015, even though she still wanted to be a part of  the group.  (Notice how Camila/Roger worded the statement. Not once were the girls mentioned, only the brand, aka Fifth Harmony.)

―“I was shocked to read the statement the Fifth Harmony account posted without my knowing. Saying that they were just informed through my representatives that I was “leaving the group” is simply not true.  I did not intend to end things with Fifth Harmony this way.”

She was probably working non-stop on her album all through out the 7/27 tour, and if that was the case it wouldn’t surprise me if she felt stressed, or tired.

One example is during the 7/27 tour in St. Louis when she had an anxiety attack, and couldn’t preform, but still preformed the next day. Panic attacks can happen because of demanding situations, or stress whether it be physical, emotional, or psychological.

Do you care,  Do you care?  Why don’t you care?

I gave you all of me

My blood my sweat  my heart and my tears

Why don’t you care?

{Camila}:  “They were actually working us to the fucking bone.”

{Lauren to Ally}: “ They’re making decisions on a regular basis to fuck us over, to make us literal slaves Ally.. we’re doing fucking labor everyday, and we see nothing.”

NUMBER 1  tell me who do you think you are?

You’ve got some nerve trying to tear my faith apart.

NUMBER 2  why would you try to play me for a fool?

I should've never trusted you.

The Camila from 2014 who was just a girl with big dreams, and the Camila from 2016 the girl that was feeling doomed inside hotel rooms... have two very different demeanors.

Yes, it’s true  bands never last a long time together, but they made the fans that she loved hate her. That way she wouldn’t have a choice, but to leave because they didn’t want her in the group anymore. They made her want to leave. They pushed the solo idea onto her.  They kicked her off of Fifth Harmony. They broke her down.  She was so tired, and you could tell.

NUMBER 3 why would you who you swore that you would be?

These people made it seem like she could trust them, and she believed that. Those people were supposed to be there for her. They were supposed to be her stepping stone. They were supposed to care. The only back they were looking out for though was their own. She would be the next rising “pop idol” and they did what they could to make it happen.

  Money is more important than someone else’s emotions, and health to them.

Don’t believe me? Ask Lauren Jauregui’s knee infection.

With that I leave you this:

No matter how successful someone is, or how happy someone looks it  doesn’t mean that they’re actually happy.  There’s a lot of things that go on behind the scenes that nobody knows about. You may think you know, but you don’t. They show you 10% of their life on social media, but that doesn’t mean you automatically know 90% of their life. You may talk to them for 5- 15 minutes, but that doesn’t mean you know what they’re going through. Make sure you show them love. Make sure you show them support. Make sure they know that no matter what they’re going through they have a fan base that won’t ever stop appreciating them even if they end up being  poor.   Show them you care no matter what. Show them you love them for them and not just because they’re “famous.” If you’re lucky enough give them the longest hug you can, because not everyone can.

#music industry #camz cabello #lolo and camz #lolo jauregui #camz and lolo #gaymila cabello #gaymila #lauren jauregay #camren #lauren and camila #camila and lauren

[linernotesandseasons]

My 19 Favorite Albums of 2019

       2019 is coming to a close. The entire decade is coming to a close. This list has been an increasingly comforting exercise the last few years. I guess this will be the eighth annual version of the linernotesandseasons favorite albums of the year list! Crazy how time passes. So here are the collections of songs that I used to mark my personal time & space this year. The lyrics that I learned by heart & sang out in dark & dirty rock clubs. I also made a spotify playlist with two songs from each album if you’re interested in listening along as you read. 

This year most of my writing focuses on when & why I fell in love with a specific album. Sometimes the history is important, building a base or connecting some threads, so when relevant, I have also included my history with when I fell in love with a specific artist. And finally, as has become more important to my music chasing brain in the last few years, why this artist or album is important to music right now. What they’re doing to leave a mark on the world, in whatever small space or way.

So without any further ado, here it is, in no particular order (unless you’re particularly knowledgable or fond of the english alphabet) my 19 (well actually 20 cuz freaking Big Thief put out two!) favorite albums of 2019. It’s been a pleasure.

BETTER OBLIVION COMMUNITY CENTER   /   Better Oblivion Community Center

    Spring 2019 in Denver was cold & breezy, sunny & exciting. I had spun the Phoebe Bridgers/Conor Oberst match-made-in-indie-emo-sad-folk-heaven record once through, but in late March I made a game time (like I bought a day-of ticket off stubhub at 6pm!) decision to drive down from work and see their show at the Gothic on South Broadway. I’d been up since 7am the night (morning?) before, watching opening day baseball live from Japan (on March 20th?!). Ichiro’s final game and I was feeling maybe a little emotionally fragile already. But anyway… Better Oblivion Community Center’s live show (they call them meetings) has all the potential to come off as cheesy or contrived. A recorded voice welcomes you, self-help-cult style, and invites you to “celebrate sound & light” & “travel the well worn pathways,” because “we are one.” A mystical backdrop gives a hint of what you’re in for (I didn’t know what I was in for...) with letters at the top reading “It will end in tears.” The band is brilliant, loose, & fun. They play all the songs. They play “Lua,” “Bad Blood,” & “Easy/Lucky/Free” from the endlessly varied Bright Eyes catalog. They turn Phoebe’s “Funeral” into a punk blast. They cover The Replacements! They wear shades and sing a song from lawn chairs! The show feels effortlessly cool and I feel like I’m part of something special again. Music has a way of doing that.

The record is perfectly equal parts Phoebe & Conor. From the opening lines, where Phoebe takes control with “my telephone it doesn’t have a camera” sounding for all the world like a gloriously mopey “Smoke Signals Vol. 2″ to the way Oberst sings the first lines of ethereal closer “Dominoes” sounding 100% like Cassadaga-era Bright Eyes. If you know & love either, you should know the other now. Phoebe carries a torch from early 2000′s emo with a sad-at-heart, genius songwriting style that emphasizes pinpoint autobiographical lyrics, a cutting, (even humorous at times) wit, and a teenage, feminist, internet, millennial heart. Oberst for his part has kept up a steady output since Bright Eyes, and (at least lyrically) doesn’t seemed to have cheered up much. Better Oblivion Community Center’s self titled debut feels fresh & catchy. While there is definitely an aching sadness in the duo’s songwriting, light hearted moments abound, and the writing often points to getting older, all hard work & growth. There is the bouncing outro to “Sleepwalkin’” where their voices rise in unison singing “Acting insane, playing it safe, I wasn’t sold on that plan anyways. Feeling afraid of making a change.” Or in the bright, rolling verses of “My City” where they go looking for “little moments of purpose.” But the one song I kept going back to; the one I recorded to cassette tape and played on almost every drive home from work at 4am through April & May, is the bittersweet closer “Dominoes.” Ironically, this one is a Taylor Hollingsworth cover (I think that’s him adding the random, spooky voice overs) but Conor takes the lead on vocals, singing a mostly lonely, hopeless tale, until the last verse when Phoebe cuts in. She’s “carpooling to kingdom come, into the wild purgatory.” Encouraging us to “Experience a magic rainbow, all you gotta’ do is follow. & if you’re not feeling ready… There’s always tomorrow.”

    “The world will not remember when we’re old & tired / We’ll be blowing on the embers of a little fire…”

BIG THIEF   /   U.F.O.F. & Two Hands

       2019 was the year that I finally finally got really really into Big Thief. A band’s band known for their live show (I still have yet to see them live) their following seems equal parts cult-y and universal. How a band that sounds the way they do, made it almost to the top of the indie-rock world is an exciting & inviting mystery.

This year, for me, the catalyst was “Cattails.” Released at the beginning of April, this song struck me and stuck with me, making its way onto almost every mix I made last Spring, Summer, & Fall (including this one for my Mom!) A real song of the year contender (& my #1 most listened to song of 2019 on spotify!), “Cattails” is a melodic, driving, beautiful tune, that finds singer & front person Adrienne Lenker marking Time (”riding that train in late June”) & Space (”going back home to the great lakes”) with grace & depth. There is a sacredness & mysticism tied up in a lot of Lenker’s writing and she refers to her writing experience with “Cattails” saying…

“It was one of those electric, multicolored waves of connectivity just sweeping through my body. I stayed up late finishing the song and the next morning was stomping around playing it over & over again. We thought why not just record it … & when James and I were playing it felt like a little portal in the fabric had opened and we were just flying. Listening back to it makes me cry sometimes.”

In truth, U.F.O.F. (the last f stands for “friend,” a way of humanizing the foreign) is a gorgeous record. Soft & gentle, full of songs about the constant tussle between things known & unknown. A real headphones-on-an-airplane record. And then, out of nowhere, Big Thief announced that they had a second (!) record on the way in the Fall. A dirt & earth twin for U.F.O.F., a special surprise gift for their burgeoning fan base. They announced Two Hands with the vicious single “Not,” a song very unlike “Cattails.” A brooding, ravenous rock song that made me remember why I love unhinged, well-written, unafraid rock & roll music. Another song of the year contender. If you’ve followed this blog the last few months, my well thought out comments to “Not” were “ohhhhhhhhhhhhh shit” & “oh my holy shit.” to the live version! But it was actually the second track on Two Hands that solidified Big Thief’s greatness for me. “Forgotten Eyes” is sonically similar to “Cattails” and rides the same effortless rhythm, driven by Lenker’s repeating guitar riff and James Krivchenia’s consistently impressive drumming. The riff seems to fall in & out magically, and the writing bookends “Cattails” with lyrics that speak to both a great pain & a great universal truth. While she wanders through homelessness & death, Lenker reflects beautifully on the life cycle we (& our planet, & maybe everything?) are all going through.

    “Forgotten dance is the one left at birth / Forgotten plants in the fossils of earth / & they’ve long passed but they are no less the dirt / Of the common soil keeping us dry & warm / The wound has no direction / Everybody needs a home & deserves protection…”

BLACK BELT EAGLE SCOUT   /   At the Party With My Brown Friends

    After finding Black Belt Eagle Scout’s debut album late last year, I soundtracked many a dusk, dawn, or midnight drive with her swirling vocals & entrancing guitar, usually in the cold & dark, through the early part of 2019. It made my 2018 favorites list, and her Larimer Lounge show in May was a highlight. I guess it makes sense then, that I didn’t truly fall for her sophomore album At the Party With My Brown Friends (released in August) until it got cold in November and I was able to take it out for some dark, snowy drives. Moody & serious at times, Black Belt Eagle Scout sounds every bit like the gray Pacific Northwest where front person Katherine Paul (KP) hails from. The lyrics are simple, repeating phrases, full of deep, important ideas. Family & friends. People & land. There are bursts of guitar coming out of rewarding slow builds, shredd-y, rhythmic, & melodic. Also, all the instruments on ATPWMBF are played by KP, and the drumming is fucking fantastic.

I have some sort of longer form writing building somewhere in the back of my mind about listening to music in cars, and both Black Belt Eagle Scout albums are perfect examples for that. I have always loved the feeling of having roads (highways or simply long straight dirt back roads) & music to listen to. In high school, we would sometimes get in the car simply to drive & listen to music (small town life ya know?) and I still relish any chance I get to take new (or old & long loved) songs & albums on road trips or just commutes around town. The time to sit with the songs, to focus on nothing but the words & melodies, instruments & voices, & the pull of the road, mystical & magical. Black Belt Eagle Scout’s songs have been a calming companion on a lot of drives over the last year, and I recommend you taking them out on a spin of your own. Drive to that coffee shop that’s 30 minutes away that you’ve been wanting to go to, drive out of town just to drive, alone with your thoughts & the road. You just might learn something about yourself.

    “& I wake up / I love you / Screaming loudly / Screaming softly too / Am I here? / My heart dreams…”

BON IVER   /   i,i

    Bon Iver is a long time favorite and if you’ve followed this blog at all, you know how much I love his albums and how much Justin Vernon’s Eaux Claires festival has helped shaped my musical timeline. Seeing 22, A Million (the record that precedes i,i) live in Wisconsin by the river for the first time, was something special. That record made my 2016 favorites list, but until this year, until i,i, my story of the music felt very insular. Special & secret for me, confined to very specific times & places. Only to make me feel certain things. It’s why I was hesitant to buy a ticket to see the Red Rocks show last September. Or why I questioned streaming the album early while I was on vacation in Holden Beach, North Carolina. I thought the songs were only meant to carry me back to the river, back to Wisconsin, back to the Summer. Back to a very specific, special place in my heart. But thanks to the wonders of spotify, and the Bon Iver crew just up and releasing the album a week early under the simple & generous guise of “wanting folks to have the album & learn the songs before the tour!!” I obliged and… YESSSS that’s how you do an album release in 2019! I had the album in my headphones as I ran and sweated on the beach in North Carolina, letting brand new songs transport me thousands of miles away.

i,i is a gloriously weird, perfected mess of a hit indie record. It’s everything I wanted the next chapter of the Bon Iver story to be. It feels personal & widescreen. Little moments stretched out and shared with family & friends. Lyrics about growth & hard work & life (& a few WTFs, it’s Bon Iver after all!) The gang’s all here again (the massive crew that worked on the album are all pictured on the record’s gloriously, weird inside gatefold!) recorded from Vernon’s home (April) base in Wisconsin, to Sonic Ranch in west Texas (also pictured in the liner notes) walking distance from our southern border. The sounds are all here again too. There are hints of For Emma’s Winter falsetto folk in the gorgeous acoustic guitar of “Marion.” There are the industrial swells & stomps, bleeps & bloops of bi, bi’s Spring in the warbling, green grass, warmth of “Holyfields.” Then there is the distortion, the choppy samples of 22, in the jigsaw glory of “iMi,” the way it starts & stops, all choruses & voices, real & programmed. Threads of new songs tied up with threads from long, long ago. There is a fullness to i,i, a generosity, a true front to back album, with hits & new favorites sprinkled everywhere. The second half blooms with the charging folk of “Salem” & “Faith” and the contentedness of closer “RABi.” These are songs that I will love for years to come. These songs make me happy. They make me think. They make me want to share them with friends. They make me want to work on relationships. Songs about life. Songs about true, unconditional friendship. As Justin said way back in 2015, when my journey with the Bon Iver story began “The story is history, nothing more. Only the music can rise anew. & it is gone as soon as it is sung. & so we sing again…” I am soo soo happy to sing again, with songs anew.

    “Living in a lonesome way / Had me looking other ways / Cuz I am lost here again / But on a bright Fall morning I’m with it / I stood a little within it…”

EARTHGANG   /   Mirrorland

      EARTHGANG’s major label debut Mirrorland comes in hot & dancing, a hip hop duo with a true tribute to Southern culture, and a whole world encapsulated in 14 tracks. My personal introduction to the EARTHGANG universe, came courtesy of a dusk till dark dance fest at Denver’s Underground Music Showcase on South Broadway back in sweaty July. Their energy was infectious, their stories hilarious, & their songs stuck in my head. Specifically the Young Thug featuring “Proud Of U,” a song that carries enthusiasm & positivity through to the end. Other standouts include colorful, bouncing opener “LaLa Challenge,” & the squealing horns of Atlanta hot spot, name dropping “Wings.” A concept album of sorts Mirrorland references “The Wiz” as a jumping off point saying,

“We thought about how, if we’re going to make a project sonically to rival The Wiz, we got to create another world for people to imagine & go to. You know when Dorothy got swept away and she met the Munchkins? That was such a beautiful thing. You could see Quincy Jones on the piano, just playing away. It’s really colorful. It’s really dangerous. It’s really trippy. It’s literally Freaknik Atlanta in the summertime—folks riding around in cars with big rims with paint on their faces.”

EARTHGANG was formed in 2008 by high school buddies Johnny Venus & Doctur Doc in Atlanta, GA.  It’s impossible to ignore Outkast comparisons and for their part, EARTHGANG does their best to keep up the Southern hip hop tradition. Mixing in bits of soul, blues, & jazz, Mirrorland plays like an homage, a soundtrack to the South. A real reminder that the album is not dead. These songs sound best played together. Also, that the hip hop group, or duo, is not dead. And finally, that touring and playing live shows is most definitely not dead. I probably still wouldn’t have heard about EARTHGANG if it wasn’t for their primo UMS slot (at the same Import Mechanics stage where Leikeli47 & Kiltro played!) and infectiously positive live show. Speaking of their live show, see y’all at Cervantes on February 3!

      “One time, one time for your baby moms / Two time for the hand in the candy jar / Holy Ghost showed up in my favorite thong / Three times in the car for the way we are / Another white man scared, another black man dead / Another rich man war, another red man bled / I been writing this album down way too long / When I drop my shit, pray it hit the toilet like lala, lalalalala...”

FRUIT BATS   /   Gold Past Life

    In the Autumn of 2013, my coworker Cassandra Disney at Mile High Organics played me “When You Love Somebody” by Fruit Bats (had that song already been out for 10 years in 2013?!) on one of her early morning work mixes, and I immediately put it on one of my favorite (if embarrassingly bro-folk heavy) mixes I have ever made myself. Discovering a weird/cool indie band in the vein of all my other loves (Band of Horses, The Shins, Modest Mouse, Yeah Yeah Yeahs, etc…) but more underground (!) was hipster heaven. I subsequently forgot about Fruit Bats for awhile, but was reminded with their graceful “comeback” album Absolute Loser in 2016. Although that one missed my favorites list, it gradually became a constant road trip companion; from the mountains of Colorado, through the great American Southwest, and even on some epic Mexican back roads. All alt-country, lost 70′s AM radio classics, and wistful, witty, & wise writing about highways and scenery. A true classic.  

I was therefore super excited for Gold Past Life (Fruit Bats’s seventh album?!) to drop on Merge Records this Summer, and fell in love pretty quickly on a late afternoon drive across the high road between Taos and Santa Fe, New Mexico back in late June. Swirling guitar, bouncy piano. and Eric D. Johnson’s piercing, clear, impassioned vocals. Fruit Bats sound timeless & effervescent. Upbeat guitar rock with some weird twists, and Johnson’s consistently bittersweet, humorous, & big hearted lyrics. Growing up, growing older, & grinning a wry smile at a golden world. After catching back to back beautiful Fruit Bats shows in Fort Collins & here in Denver at the Bluebird this September, these folks are the real deal. Long live touring bands, long live seventh albums, long live music marking time & space! Here’s to many more Fruit Bats albums, Gold Past Life will be car stereo classic for awhile.

    “Still waiting around for some mystical shift in the winds / So honey please, don’t go just yet / Cigarette fingers, a shake in the knees / A bit blue, kind of tired, but not broken… Anticipating a magical bend in the road / So hang on, take it slow / Your go bag is packed & your hangover gone / Another dawn at the edge of the known world…”

HISS GOLDEN MESSENGER   /   Terms of Surrender

    Durham, North Carolina’s Hiss Golden Messenger (folklorist, family man, & singer-songwriter MC Taylor & revolving crew) have become something of a mainstay on this music blog & in my car’s cd player over the last five years. I picked up a used (!), advance (!) copy of Lateness of Dancers in the $1 bin at a record store in Seattle, Washington. after having been passed a burned copy of his 2010 solo album Bad Debt by an old coworker. Lateness ended up on my 2014 favorites list. Two years later, Heart Like A Levee made my 2016 list, and the next year, Hallelujah Anyhow was one of my favorites of 2017! I referred to the songs on Hallelujah as Hiss “building a repertoire, creating a legacy.” This may seem like quite a bit of superfluous backstory, but believe me, it is essential to the story, a journal of the journey. Geographic art for a topographic heart if you will. But anyway, Terms of Surrender…

The title is cryptic, referencing (as Taylor puts it “what we are prepared to sacrifice in order to live the lives that we think we want”) and the songs are deep (& growing deeper) & timeless. Not so much timeless in the way Yola’s songs sound timeless (skip down a few albums on this list to read about Yola!) but timeless in the way the songs seem to seep their way into my bones and stay for years. Terms burst on the scene with the release of the first single “I Need a Teacher” back in stormy June. With bright, rolling guitar stabs courtesy of The National’s Aaron Dessner (whose upstate New York recording studio was home for the Terms recording sessions), “Teacher” is about “the search for infallible guidance in an ever-changing universe.” but it is also about everyday work. Dedicated every night of the tour to all the teachers in the room, a political statement wrapped up in the seemingly obvious sentiment of “Defend Public Schools.” See what I mean? Timeless songs written for the here & now. “Bright Direction” & “My Wing” are reminiscent of Hallelujah’s “Jenny” & “Darkness.” a 1-2 punch of driving, drifting major key numbers, written from a hillside in Virginia, high on mushrooms. They contain multitudes. With a murky middle (Brad Cook gets funky on “Old Enough to Wonder Why” & “Cat’s Eye Blue”) & the already canonical Hiss’ live fav “Happy Birthday Baby,” the back half of Terms spreads out the Hiss’ sound in new ways. New live favorite, the nostalgic “Down at the Uptown,” had me googling maps of San Francisco to find the mythical Uptown bar where Taylor first heard Patti Smith’s Horses.

In late October, Hiss played an absolutely glorious three night run at little Globe Hall over in Globeville, just Southeast of where Interstate 70 meets Interstate 25. I went to all three shows. The shows were special & career spanning; from “Jesus Shot Me in the Head,” to Dead covers (& a Jesus & Mary Chain cover!) to all the Terms songs.  I spent the Saturday afternoon before show #2, walking around the disappearing & rapidly gentrifying neighborhood in & around Globeville (& drifting across the highway into Sunnyside) listening to Terms of Surrender on my headphones. Thinking about the things I’m willing to sacrifice, thinking about the life I want, what are my Terms? After all, “It’s a real live world & I wanna live in it.”

    “Something drove me crazy / Love had me lazy / Backwards won’t get me to my destination / Move me in some bright direction / Looking to be captured, looking for my freedom / Oh, dreams will come to get you / So careful what you’re wishing / Your family might correct you / Your heart might take a pounding / Make sure you take a picture…”

JUNE JONES   /   Diana

    I can’t remember where I first heard of June Jones, but I’d like to think it was from one of my many Australian music friends (thanks Camp Cope, Julia Jacklin, Middle Kids, Courtney Barnett, Gang of Youths etc…!) The music community is a wonderful thing. June’s songs can be hard to explain, but Diana is an epic album that burns with a steady, stately drama. Most of the songs ride swelling synths and measured, 80’s sounding drums and center around June’s unique, emotive voice and head turning lyrics. Jones had fronted the Australian rock band Two Steps on the Water and written songs on the guitar for many years, but it’s pretty clear from listening to the writing and sound on Diana that these songs were meant for piano, synth, and a solo album. Her own writing. Her own words.

The album begins with the brooding “Rome From Afar” and the opening line “I got drunk again last night & I fell down outside the bathroom at my little sister’s party.” It then follows a dancing bass line into an apocalyptic nightmare of a world ending. “Meryl” is a gorgeous, autobiographical (?) song, an ode to “complicated” hard working women everywhere. There are parts of Diana that nod to it being a break up album, like in the gorgeously melancholic “Boulder Falling Slow” (”I am a boulder falling slow / You’re a magnificent spiderweb”) but I have been viewing it as just a complex, everyday life album. Jones lets her magnificent voice trail slowly over seemingly uncomfortable or awkward topics that she strives to make… not so. Sorry Alex Cameron, your “eating your ass like an oyster” line in “Miami Memory” is only the second best “eating ass” line this year after Jones’ “Look at You Go!” Her voice often belies the emotion in her lyrics, she works it up & down, and lets it stretch out over words, like in lonely closer “Sixteen Horses,” but she also sounds almost matter of fact at times. There is a moment in the piano led “Thorn” where she glibly throws “Have you seen the moon tonight? No, me neither, who cares about the moon when everything is dying?” over an understated horn trill. Everything is dying after all, but I want June Jones to sing it to me like an Australian Lana Del Rey or Matt Berninger. Trust me, you’ll be hearing more about June Jones in the coming years. Watch out.

    “I haven’t thought too much about family / Ain’t got no husband or a couple of kids / I’ve spent 26 years in this office / I said goodbye to my relationships a long time ago / What does the mayor of a small town heart do after she retires?”

JUSTIN PETER KINKEL-SCHUSTER   /   Take Heart, Take Care

     My long time music friend Adam over at songsfortheday had been trying to tell me about Justin Peter Kinkel-Schuster for quite a few mixes with songs I loved from his 2016 release Constant Stranger. But it somehow wasn’t until I needed Take Heart, Take Care, that Schuster’s work hit me right. It didn’t feel like a light at the end of the tunnel, but more like a light in the tunnel, something lasting, a collection of songs lifting up & out towards a light. As Schuster wrote upon it’s release…

     “Here, I’ve fumbled my way, as always, and of necessity, into a collection of songs that hold a light to the joys & comforts of life not given up on, those that appear over time as we are looking elsewhere, to surprise & delight us when we need them most. Sure, it’s me, so there are glimpses of and nods to the dark, but the dark is not winning anymore. I simply mean to acknowledge its presence. To me, that’s the most fundamental job of songs, of stories, of all art — to be allies, friends, companions, when we need them most and it’s my hope that these songs can do that work in a world that seems to need it. If you are lucky enough to have something good to say, say it. Please. We’ll thank each other, now & later.”

So i guess it’s that second part that I have found solace in through my 20′s and into my 30′s. That songs (and stories & all art, but songs & albums seem to be my thing) can be allies, friends, & companions, and that sometimes (like Hanif Abdurraqib wrote in his brilliant collection of essays “They Can’t Kill Us Until They Kill Us”)…

     “If you believe, as I do, that a blessing is a brief breath to take in that doesn’t taste of whatever is holding you under: say I Speak To God In Public and mean more than just in his house, or mean more than just next to people who might also speak to God in public, or say God and mean whatever has kept you alive when so many other things have failed to.“

Take Heart, Take Care is a straightforward, well written, indie rock album. The songs ring true with light & darkness, an uplifting take on growing older and finding “Plenty Wonder” still to be found in the world. Schuster played the Hi-Dive on South Broadway in November, the last show on the Take Heart tour. A show I had bought tickets for months in advance, and I found myself in a crowd of maybe 15 people, celebrating the songs of Take Heart, Take Care. Listening to a writer with something good to say. Trying all in our own way to hold our own. I have a feeling I’ll keep these songs with me for awhile.

     “Time is the mender / Whose strange mechanics yet untold / Bid us rise entwined together / So take heart, take care / Be true but beware / & honey we need not be scared…”

KARA JACKSON   /   A Song for Every Chamber of the Heart

      In only 10 minutes & 42 seconds, Kara Jackson creates an intimate, magical world with just her voice and a guitar on her debut EP A Song for Every Chamber of the Heart.  Four intricate & intentional songs, none longer than three minutes, finger picked slowly & methodically, Jackson balances a poetic, whimsical wandering with a steely focus on the craft of songwriting. These are the bones of songs, played honest & upfront, with no adornment. There is room for Jackson’s lyrics to really shine, all aching & wistful, yet practical. Like the way she balances “I have a crush, I have an ache” with “I know that love’s just a pain in the ass” in the bittersweet “Crush.” Her songs buzz with a youthful energy & teen angst. Wise beyond their years, finding their way in the world. As a songwriter and a poet, Jackson writes about race, activism, social justice, self, bodies, & humanity.

At 20 (!) years old, Chicago’s Jackson is... oh also a poet. The 2019 National Youth Poet Laureate (!) in fact, and it was her absolutely breathtaking writing about being a teenager that first caught my attention. She quotes Gwendolyn Brooks (pulitzer prize winning American poet) in her Ted Talk saying “write what’s under your nose.” She says that Brooks took the mundane and put it on a pedestal. That she understood there are “poems in train cars, poems on front lawns, & poems in microwaves & tea kettles.” An almost obligation to celebrate the ordinary. Ordinary folks celebrating similar ordinary folks. It’s the way that John Darnielle howls on The Mountain Goats song “Werewolf Gimmick” (track nine on 2015′s Beat the Champ) about “nameless bodies in unremembered rooms.” In his prerelease essay for Merge Records, music writer Joseph Fink wrote that the entire career of The Mountain Goats has been about “giving names to nameless bodies and remembering unremembered rooms.” and what a worthy cause that is. That thought has stuck with me for years and I have always loved the specificity of it. Whether it is Darnielle resurrecting historical characters real or fictional, or the way Lady Lamb (keep reading a few more albums down!) celebrates the specifics of her friends & family, in all the messy details. Written in song, remembered forever. It is also essential that all cultures have artists who look like them and think like them, as the ones doing the remembering.  It’s why it’s so important that Kara Jackson is the one doing the remembering for young black girls. The same way Eve Ewing did for her, and Gwendolyn Brooks did before that. I can appreciate the magic of the remembering, but I need to let them be the ones to tell the stories. Oh, speaking of appreciating, I bugged Jackson enough on social media and got a handmade PHYSICAL copy of the EP that I’m hanging onto forever cuz it’s probably gonna be like the next original pressing of Bon Iver’s For Emma! Thanks Kara!

      “Don’t take my pillowcase, that's my place to be alone / Don’t take my lamp from me, it helps me read about places I don’t know / Don’t take a lot for me to be on my own...”

KILTRO   /   Creatures of Habit

      My end of the year albums list usually has at least one local Denver band. The Lumineers way back in 2012, Gregory Alan Isakov & Covenhoven in 2013, Nathaniel Rateliff, Covenhoven (again!), & The Yawpers in 2015, Nina de Freitas in 2017 (hey Nina & the Hold Tight, new album in 2020 please?!), and Izcalli last year. Kiltro is a part Coloradan, part Chilean folk band that have been putting on one of my favorite live shows around town this year. The brainchild of Chris Bowers-Castillo, a native Coloradan who spent time growing up in Valparaiso, Chile, Kiltro is named after the Spanish word “Quiltro” meaning a mixed breed dog. A dog that Kiltro has taken for their logo. In their own way, Kiltro is a mix breed; both in the way they mix the sounds of South America with the folk music of North America, and also the way they mix organic, acoustic instrumentation, with electronic, looping sounds and effects pedals. Their live show is a masterclass in layers, with Bowers-Castillo adding loops of guitar rhythms (sometimes simply bare hands slapping beats on the top of the guitar) to steady bass & drums, until the songs swell & build into dramatic crescendos and almost EDM-influenced drops. The extended intros & outros are my favorite parts of their songs and the live versions (from their sweaty 2pm UMS dance party, to Lulu’s Downstairs in Manitou Springs) have stirred hearts & feet alike with dancing not usually found in the Colorado “indie-hipster” scene. Keep an eye on these guys and maybe come out to Larimer Lounge in January and witness the dance party for yourself!

      “Somewhere down the bank where the dogs go / Por la calle que te lleva a Curicó / & down the beach, where no others can find / Ni por agua, piso, coche, ni avión...”

LADY LAMB   /   Even in the Tremor

      As I have been writing this year’s favorites list, I’m realizing that so many of the albums I loved & learned, came hand in hand with experiencing the artist, and specifically that new album, live. Lady Lamb released Even in the Tremor, her masterful & moving third album, way back in April, and I had a Spring-y three weeks to learn all her intricate, visceral lyrics to sing back at her Larimer Lounge stop in Denver on the Deep Love tour. Maine by way of Brooklyn’s (by way of a bunch of other places) Aly Spaltro has always written songs for Lady Lamb like her hair’s on fire. Wailing & gasping about blood & guts & death over spiraling electric guitar, there is a realness to her writing that reminds me of the east coast emo I grew up on. But for all the blood red gore & messy heartbreak that colors much of the Lady Lamb discography, there is a light hearted tenderness as well. Tremor has songs written for & about friends, lovers, parents, & god. Quirky opener “Little Flaws” is a first-dance-worthy love song, while personal favorites “Strange Maneuvers” & “Emily” are odes to platonic friendships, mental health, & growing up. In the same way I wrote about Kara Jackson celebrating the ordinary, Lady Lamb has always celebrated specifics of people, time & space. Tremor’s characters are Spaltro’s real life people (Emily, Shervin, Kurt (Kurtie Bear), Isaac, & her Mom), and the places (the diner, the batting cage, Templehof Park, Midtown, Berlin, Montreal, Madrid, a fast food joint, the stage of a church, someplace upstate, Lavanderia & Graham Ave) are specific, varied, & globe spanning. Her stories are autobiographical and rewarding and the music is stirring, singer-songwriter rock & roll with some punch behind it. She is one of my favorite modern writers for her ability to not just tell a story, but to find wonder in the small things and to celebrate the ordinary. Like she tells Shervin, minutes before “Emily” closes the album on a gorgeous, uplifting high note, “No photographic artifact, but here is something better than that.”

      “There’s a picture that I found, my first car in the falling snow / Seems like yesterday I drove down into low tide / & Isaac snapped a polaroid of me pretending I was sinking, pressed against the glass pleading / I misplaced it but I’m looking... / When we are young, if only we could see beyond our fears where we are free / When we are lonely if only we could know that in our stillness we are growing... / All the portraits we collected, while we were running around in the desert / We were trying to seem fulfilled to rewrite our New York City narratives / But Emily we were utterly dejected / We took turns crying on the passenger side of America / Too clouded to be empowered by towering Redwoods... / When did we lose the ancient truths? / Is it what we’re born bending our bodies toward?...”

LIZZO   /   Cuz I Love You

      For much of 2019, Lizzo could be heard playing everywhere. The 31 year old Minnesotan’s third full length album Cuz I Love You, came out in April, after a busy three years of huge singles, consistent touring, & building a repertoire of songs capable of headlining arenas. When Lizzo finally exploded these last few years, it has been fun watching the whole world embrace her uptempo, bold, self-love anthems, and hearing them blaring from open Subaru windows in Cap HIll, from balconies & rooftops in uptown, and on the lips of countless joggers & bikers, loving themselves in the Denver Summer sun. I know for my part, I took Lizzo with me to the beaches of North Carolina & through the Southern mountains of Colorado, dancing, singing, & gleefully giggling along. Bottom line, the songs on Cuz I Love You are FUN! You try not to crack a smile as Lizzo romps through “Never been in love before, what the fuck are fucking feelings yo?” on the bouncing, brassy, vocal led, track one title track MOMENT. Or the way she makes up the word “accessorary” on the spot (“my ass is not an accessorary”) and then fires back with “Yeah, I said it, accessorary!” Lizzo has been an outspoken supporter of our generation’s version of the self-love, body positivity movement, and has put her money (and body) where her mouth is, inspiring legions of teens & twenty somethings to do the same. “Soulmate” is a loner anthem that finds Lizzo belting “True love ain’t something you can buy yourself / True love finally happens when you’re by yourself / So if you by yourself, then go and buy yourself another round from the bottle on the higher shelf.” The soulful slowdown “Jerome” is about being the bigger person and ending a relationship that isn’t working. Lizzo manages to actually address her own issues, focus on the work she needs to do (“I’m trying to be patient & patience takes practice.”) and still absolutely belt a singalong chorus that rhymes Jerome with “take your ass home.” Also, the deluxe version of Cuz I Love You tacks on three previous Lizzo singles that hadn’t found an album home. Those singles? “Boys,” “Truth Hurts,” & “Water Me.” Three songs totaling almost 555 MILLION plays on Spotify. With apologies to Ariana Grande & Billie Eilish (Billie see ya in a few months at the Pepsi Center!) Lizzo is the biggest superstar that I want on this list. And she 100% deserves every bit of it.

      “If I’m shinin’ everybody gonna’ shine...”

ORVILLE PECK   /   pony

      There is an appealing, theatrical quality to the dramatic country songs on Orville Peck’s debut record Pony. I spent my high school years growing up in small town Western Colorado so country music has been embedded in my brain since I was 11. I’ve gone through so many phases of loving it, hating it, loving it ironically, nostalgically, hating it for it’s sound, cheesiness, backwards politics, etc... But with Pony; these are true country songs written by a gay, masked cowboy anti-hero from.. Toronto? Maybe? Who is Orville Peck?!?! It’s like all the best parts of “country” music came together. And the mask? The fringe? All the packaging & theatrics? It makes it fun. Part Bowie, part Coheed & Cambria, part Grace Jones, part Ghost, part Brandon Flowers. Hollywood meets Vegas meets Carson City.

When I listen to Orville Peck’s songs it brings together so many feelings from my youth. From country radio & boxes of old country cds, to the dramatic side of theatre, play acting on a stage, dress-up, halloween, cowboys, loneliness, & the open road. From the tumbleweed roll & mournfully powerful coyote howl of opener “Dead of Night,” to the shoegaze rumble, autumn ride of “Winds Change.” Peck’s lyrics are honest & heartfelt, drawing on sweeping, western imagery, & idolizing the classic country ideal... the cowboy. Music marks time & place and Peck makes sure to reference the cities along his highway songs. Salt Lake City, Las Vegas, Carson City, Kansas, a veritable Rand McNally road map of the American West. In the same manner as both Black Belt Eagle Scout albums, Fruit Bats, & Caroline Rose from last year, it wasn’t until a highway drive that I truly fell in love with Pony. It was a brilliant November sunset & still warm, but windy & changing, and we knew we had to hustle to beat the snow back to Denver. Highway 159 from the Southern Colorado border through Costilla County, on the way towards Fort Garland & then Walsenburg. Purple & Orange out the window to my left, Winter on it’s way. Peck’s songs sang with a heartache... a loss. a rhinestone loneliness that country finds a way to revel in. When “Kansas (Remembers Me Now)” statics out like a long lost FM radio. When “Hope to Die” fake ends at 3:30 and instead key change pivots like a washed-up Broadway starlet, shooting her shot on a dusty jukebox. When “Nothing Fades Like the Light” draws its last, peaceful breath, closing Pony like the last light of that November sunset. Thanks Orville, this one’s a classic.

      “Fell in love with a rider / Dirt king, black crown / Six months on a knucklehead hog / I like him best when he's not around / He gets me high, oh, big sky... Fell in love with a boxer / Stayed awake all year / Heartbreak is a warm sensation / When the only feeling that you know is fear / I don't know why, oh, big sky...”

RAPSODY   /   Eve

      Rapsody’s third album Eve is a masterclass on rap music, and the Snow Hill, North Carolina rapper sounds relaxed & loose, while still staying focused & on topic with an album that reads as, as Rapsody herself puts it “a love letter to all black women including myself.” She is at the top of her game right now, and these songs cement Rapsody as one of the premier rappers in an exciting field of rap talent both young & old.  

Each track on the album is dedicated to one of Rapsody’s personal heroes, and I am going to focus these words & my research for Eve (besides listening to it nonstop, which I’m currently doing now!) on those black women. Track one is for Nina Simone (”without Nina there’s no Lauryn Hill, & without Lauryn Hill there’s no Rapsody.”) and features critically important verses about black heritage & culture over Nina’s terrifying & sobering classic “Strange Fruit.” Rapsody is recognizing her legacy and the importance of heritage, but she is clearly claiming her spot in that bloodline. “Cleo” preaches standing up for yourself over a Phil Collins sample (between Cleo & Lucy Dacus, “In the Air Tonight” is getting some serious love this year!) and is named after Queen Latifah’s character in the 1996 movie “Set it Off.” From there Rapsody recognizes artists (Aaliyah), philanthropists (Oprah & Michelle Obama), actresses (Whoopi), athletes (Serena Williams & Ibtihaj Muhammed), writers (Maya Angelou & Reyna Biddy), models (Iman & Tyra Banks), and historical figures & activists (Hatshepsut, Myrlie Evers-Williams, Sojourner Truth, & Afeni Shakur). Bottom line, ALL of these women are essential google material (you’re reading this on your phone or laptop, google and give yourself a five minute refresher if there’s anyone you don’t already know!) While you’re at it, google the lyrics for Eve (and Jamila Woods’ equally incredible, equally name dropping LEGACY! LEGACY!) and listen along. This is an important time capsule document for Rapsody and it’s just a damn good rap album.

      “I am Nina & Roberta, the one you love but ain't heard of / Got my middle finger up like Pac after attempted murder / Failed to kill me, it's still me, woke up singing Shirley Murdock / As we lay these edges down, brown women, we so perfect...”      

SABA LOU   /   Novum Ovum

      When I listen to Saba Lou’s intoxicating sophomore album Novum Ovum, I am transported to somewhere magical & different. Maybe older, maybe out of place & time. Everything about Novum feels… classic. From the dusty, record-store-bin-find look of the out of focus cover photo, to the laidback natural way Saba Lou seems to dance along on top of a rollicking house band lifted from the 70’s. There are elements of surf rock, shoegaze, late night soul, and classic rock & roll on Ovum, but it is all driven by the singular writing & vocals of Saba Lou. In the liner notes of the record, a note can be found, claiming that this album is meant to be from the future. 2286 to be exact! Is a concept album?! Is it actually from the future & delivered to us by a time traveling band of Germans?!! Does it have songs about Star Trek??!! Maybe, mayyyybeee... & YES!

Yet to turn 20 (!), Saba Lou is a German born singer songwriter who has been making & releasing music since she was literally six years old! Novum Ovum is Latin for “the new egg” and features a hot four piece full band, and wonderfully fleshed out songs that bounce and swing with palpable energy. The lyrics span an awesomely wide spectrum from endometriosis pain (the title track obv) to a Star Trek mindmeld tune sung from the perspective of Gracie the pregnant whale (closer “Humpback in Time”)!! All in all, Saba Lou is an absolutely electric songwriter and her youthfulness & fervor are contagious. It’s the reason I love making this list every year, and what makes discovering new music so exciting. Can’t wait for the next one!

      “A brick wall around your placenta / Cut them all off from her mother blood / The hounds call for appassionata / A phoenetic paste for the fetal bud...”

SHARON VAN ETTEN   /   Remind Me Tomorrow

      Over the last few years I started the practice of making a draft favorite albums list in January and adding albums throughout the year, as I fall in love with them. This way I don’t forget the ones I loved in January & February, the ones that got me through the backend of the Winter. I’m able to track my year in music as it develops, a sort of captain’s log. A living, personal journal using music to mark time & space as I sprint my way through another increasingly faster, increasingly chaotic year. Sometimes, scrolling through the list acts as a comfort. “That album only came out this year?! OK, this year isn’t moving too fast, that feels like forevvverrrr ago!” Sometimes it helps to show me how much I’ve grown, how much an album has meant, or has helped with my mental & emotional growth. This year, the very first album I added to that list, the very first album that I fell hard & holy hell in love with... was Sharon Van Etten’s Remind Me Tomorrow.

A blast of energy. A weird synthy, pulsing red & blue darkness. Simultaneously club-y & indie rock vibey. Van Etten’s fifth album is supposedly written from a place of contentment. A marriage, a child, a life & happiness discovered. Less desperation, more introspection. I hear in her voice & words, how taking care of yourself, how striving to be your best self, can bring out the most powerful, most emotional art. She also isn’t afraid to let her voice go and I think her vocal performances are what truly take Tomorrow to another level. “Memorial Day” rides a haunting vocal loop & tumbles in nearly wordless, glimmering vowels, all ethereal magnificence. The chorus of the brooding “Jupiter 4″ spirals upwards & then rollercoasters, a late night drunken banger. But at the heart of Remind Me Tomorrow sits one of my songs of the year, one of my songs of the decade, “Seventeen.” I had heard it first live, way back in October 2018 in the rain in the mountains at Red Rocks. I got tipsy & wrote about it the day it came out, January 8, 2019, after a long, cold stretch working the night shift. This album & especially this song will stay with me for a long time. Sharon has taught me to keep working on myself. To look back in fondness. To think about how, with hard work, how much joy & peace & comfort await in my coming years. But she also taught me to lean into emotions. To embrace the ache of memories and the bittersweetness of growing up. Thanks for making this album Sharon.

      “Downtown hotspot, halfway up the street / I used to be free, I used to be 17 / Follow my shadow around your corner / I used to be 17, now you're just like me / Down beneath the ashes & stone / Sure of what I've lived and have known / I see you so uncomfortably alone / I wish I could show you how much you've grown...”

TIM BAKER   /   Forever Overhead

      I have a special feeling tied to the collection of intimate, swirling songs Tim Baker released this year from Canada. Forever Overhead carries a certain small town holiness, recognizable to those who grew up in small towns , but specific to his own personal, north-north-eastern-eastern “small” town, St Johns, in Newfoundland & Labrador, Canada. Growing up on the farthest coast of the Atlantic on the tippy, tippy point of Canada (seriously google it!), Baker fronted emo band Hey Rosetta! for four albums until striking out this Spring on his own with Arts & Crafts Records. There is a very Springsteen-esque bent to the way he writes about growing up somewhere (as someone) small & wanting to be somewhere very big and exciting. He captures the bittersweetness of growing up so perfectly. From the teenage romantic feelings in swaying opener “Dance” & the rousing “Mirrors,” to the friends & bars & singing found in the melancholic “Spirit” and the absolute hit “All Hands.” The latter is the core of the album, a bright, rhythmic guitar number that builds & swells with voices & instrumentation to a few huge, singalong choruses. A real song of the year contender. Baker isn’t afraid to let the songs go on journeys on Forever Overhead and they rarely finish where they begin. Horns & handclaps burst in at points, celebratory & fearless. The sexual tension of “Strange River” is lightened with a false start and a “sorry. In ‘D’” followed by a belly laugh, before restarting. The light & dark are present throughout Overhead and listening to these songs remind me of growing up. I feel like I’m being given a secret glance into Baker’s youth and the parts that mirror mine make me want to lift my voice in unison with those that understand. Sometimes small collections of well written & well played songs can do that, and to me... it’s sacred. Hopefully I get a chance to visit St Johns someday, and if I do, these songs will be playing as my soundtrack.

      “A boy in bed, all the windows wide / You can hear the hot rods running from the light / From the light, into the dark / That's all I wanted in my cousin's car / To listen to the wind & to the lead guitars / & feel the reckless running of your heart / Now is that gone or does that all remain? / Can I go back and have it all again? / Well now I know it, where I'm going / I'm going back behind the river / I'm going back behind the rain / Cuz no matter where you're heading / You end up where you’ve been...”

YOLA   /   Walk Through Fire

     It’s clear from the first minute & 30 seconds of Yola’s debut full-length Walk Through Fire, that this album is destined to be an all-time classic. She comes in slow & wistful with “wish I knew what you were wishing for...” over a soft wash of cymbals and mournful country-soul guitar. Then one minute in, her voice swells to gigantic proportions, seeming to lift the song right off the page, carried into another stratosphere, timeless & magnetic. That “Faraway Look” in your eyes.

From there, Yola (36 year old Yolanda Quartey from Bristol, England) takes her commanding voice through bluesy, fiddle-led country (”It Ain’t Easier” & the title track), and laid back soul (”Shady Grove” & “Deep Blue Dream”). Personal fav “Ride Out In The Country” became a backroads, summer anthem for me this year on multiple trips through Southern & Western Colorado. Through it all, her voice booms, whispers, & rocks gently, propelling the songs forward with warmth & light. Her lyrics are full of both dreamy memories & work-a-day stories about the challenges of life. It was fun this year to have different friends & family members get into Yola at different times, getting texts like “have you heard of YOLA??!!” Sharing songs, & collections of songs (like the ones on Walk Through Fire) is what makes making this list every year so fun, and I’m always excited to see what new, life-long favorites I will discover. See you in a couple months at the Bluebird Theater on Colfax here in Denver Yola!! Can’t wait!

      “A little shady grove / A memory long ago / A tale too old to know the ending / I gave it all away / It takes my breath away...”

#yola #tim baker #Sharon Van Etten #saba lou #Rapsody #orville peck #lizzo #lady lamb #kiltro #kara jackson #june jones #hiss golden messenger #fruit bats #earthgang #bon iver #black belt eagle scout #big thief #better oblivion community center #justin peter kinkel-schuster

[demidemilitclub]

3 and 4 from the newest asks? 🌿but especially 3 and if that's still too wide please tell me something about one artist you just love right now! 😇

3. What is your favorite music genre? AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH. The problem with a question like this is as soon as someone asks, I completely forget every single song I’ve ever listened to.

However, I will endeavor to answer this to the best of my ability, though not so much as a complete list, but more of a general feel. Also, you can always ask me about specific artists/songs/albums/genres that I do or don’t include in this list. (Also, while I would normally hyperlink songs, that’s just so many and I’ve already taken long enough to answer this ask.)

Classical: I know it’s not the proper term for the entire genre if you’re a musician, but you generally get what I’m going at. Of particular note would be Chopin, Vivaldi’s “Winter”, Saint-Saens’ “Danse Macabre”, Beethoven’s “Moonlight Sonata”, Beethoven’s 5th and 9th Symphonies, Mozart’s Symphony 40, Mozart’s Requiem, Strauss’ “Blue Danube”, Holst’s “Mars, the Bringer of War” Tschaikovsky’s “1812 Overture”, Rossini’s “William Tell Overture.” Stuff generally along those lines.

Ballet/Opera: Ballets include Tschaikovsky's Swan Lake and The Nutcracker, Bizet’s Carmen, Verdi’s “Anvil Chorus” from Il Trovatore and “The Drinking Song” from La Traviata and “La donna è mobile” from Rigoletto. Honorary mention goes to Verdi’s Macbeth because, I mean, it’s Macbeth, you can’t go wrong with Macbeth.

Musical Theater: I f*cking love musical theater, so if you want to send me more specific musical theater asks, knock yourselves out, but there’s just so much that I couldn’t even start. Just know that I define “Musical Theater” as basically Gilbert & Sullivan to present-day Broadway/West End.

Jazz: I specifically really like classic club jazz, the sort of swing/big band stylings of Louis Armstrong, Count Basie, Fats Waller, Duke Ellington, Cab Calloway, et al. I also really like East Coast Jazz (an informal term that refers to not-West Coast Jazz), like John Coltrane.

Big Band/Swing: Glenn Miller, Harry James, Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, Billie Holliday, Ella Fitzgerald, Doris Day, etc. You get the idea.

Country: Johnny Cash, Dolly Parton, Bruce Springsteen, John Denver, Dusty Springfield.

Metal: Dragonforce, Metallica, Black Sabbath.

Classic Rock: Led Zeppelin, Fleetwood Mac, The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, The Animals (of “House of the Rising Sun” fame), Pink Flyod, Jimi Hendrix, Credence Clearwater Revival, Blue Oyster Cult, and all that other good dad music. The only exceptions are Jimmy Buffet (he’s fine, he’s just not in my rotation) and Grateful Dead.

Memes: If the song is a meme, or used in a meme, I like it.

Songs That Never Fail to Get White People Beyond Turnt: That whole list? BOPS.

70s/80s: Journey, Kansas, “Heat of the Moment” by Asia, Queen, David Bowie, Elton John, Tears for Fears, etc.

Hip Hop/Rap: I really like sort of “classic”/“old school” hip hop and rap, like N.W.A., The Notorious B.I.G., “Rapper’s Delight” by The Sugarhill Gang, Tupac, and the sort of 80s-early 00s hip hop and rap. I also enjoy Childish Gambino, Chance the Rapper, Kendrick Lamar, and Lil Nas X. This is a genre that I really need to sit down and listen to more often, because it’s definitely something I’ve grown into.

Emo: Evanescence, My Chemical Romance, Panic! At the Disco, Fall Out Boy, Green Day.

Soundtracks: Movie and game soundtracks are awesome. Like with musical theater, ask me about specifics, but to give you a vague idea: Schindler’s List, Dark Souls III, Legend of the Colossus, Undertale, Red Dead Redemption and Red Dead Redemption II, Doctor Strange, Black Panther, and pretty much 99% of Disney (specific shoutouts to Hunckback, Hercules, and Mulan). Plus, I love me some Hans Zimmer.

Honorable Mention: The sort of cinematic, Southern Gothic music that “The Chain” by Fleetwood Mac or “Ghost Riders in the Sky” by Johnny Cash evokes. Check out the trailer for Netflix’s “Remastered: Robert Johnson” for another great example.

Misc/I Don’t Know How Genres Work: Marvin Gaye, The Temptations, The Supremes, Heart, Joan Jett, Billy Joel, Daft Punk, “Rhythm Nation” by Janet Jackson, Michael Jackson, Robert Johnson, saintmotel, Misterwives, Fats Domino, Lorde, Billie Eilish, Janelle Monae.

I’m sure I’m forgetting a bunch of stuff I like, but that just shows how eclectic my taste in music is.

If there’s anything you think I missed, or want clarification or to ask a more specific question, feel free to ask!

4. Have you ever had a penpal? Not really, no. I mean, I’ve written various kinds of letters to people as part of school assignments over the years, but I never really went back and forth with one person. I always thought it would be kind of fun though.

#music #music genre #music taste #chopin #frederic chopin #vivaldi #antonio vivaldi #four seasons #winter #saint-saens #camille saint-saëns #danse macabre #beethoven #ludwig van beethoven #moonlight sonata #beethoven's 5th symphony #beethoven's 9th symphony #mozart #wolfgang amadeus mozart #mozart's symphony 40 #requiem #mozart's requiem #strauss #johann strauss ii #blue danube #holst #gustav holst #the planets #mars #mars the bringer of war

[altcomics]

THE MOVIE BLACK PANTHER was released in February of this year. The same month, Herman Bell—formerly of the Black Liberation Army, an underground Black Power group composed of members of the Black Panthers—was up for parole after forty-five years in prison. Black Panther grossed $241.9 million in its opening weekend, netting a handsome profit for Walt Disney Studios. Bell’s hearing was delayed and culminated in an unusually long deliberation period, but he was eventually paroled in mid-March. Fifteen other former Black Panthers remain in prison; some have died while doing time, and all have experienced abuse and torture, including solitary confinement and beatings. At the time of writing, New York’s police union, the Patrolmen’s Benevolent Association, was fiercely contesting the decision on Bell’s case, hoping to have it revoked.

The grotesque spectacle of police and politicians scrambling to deprive a seventy-year-old man of freedom because of their abstract fear of Black violence looks more vivid in the light of the movie’s release. The accidental convergence of the two events shakes up old ghosts, or it would if the air right now weren’t already so thick with them. Black Panther director Ryan Coogler’s first movie, Fruitvale Station (2013), concerned the murder by police of Oscar Grant in Oakland, California, and happened to open the same week George Zimmerman heard the news that he would face no legal consequences for the murder of Trayvon Martin. Five years later, a political turn that we can at least partly credit to the organization and concept Black Lives Matter—inaugurated by a popular hashtag shortly after Zimmerman’s predictable lucky break—has opened so much new discursive ground in US political and cultural life that Black Panther felt not only possible but inevitable. Of course, it was not. The movie, rooted in Black history and reaching confidently and unironically for mass-market appeal, is extraordinary. To lift an aphorism from the first lines of Thomas Pynchon’s 1973 novel Gravity’s Rainbow: “It has happened before, but there is nothing to compare it to now.”

Ryan Coogler, Fruitvale Station, 2013, Super 16, color, sound, 85 minutes. Second from left: Oscar Grant (Michael B. Jordan).

Frank B. Wilderson III writes in Red, White & Black: Cinema and the Structure of US Antagonism (2010) that he is “interested in Black filmmakers of the 1970s . . . not as auteurs, or brilliant individuals, but as cinematic prisms.” Coogler is a great filmmaker, using in Black Panther the same gifts for the kinetic and emotional that gave Creed (2015), his contribution to the “Rocky” franchise, such unexpected depth and swagger. But we will have to follow Wilderson’s example and take him as a prism, especially because the films Wilderson spoke of also coincided with a profound political turn:

I propose that the specter of the Black Liberation Army—and by specter, I mean the zeitgeist rather than the actual historical record of the BLA— provides us with both a point of condensation for thinking Black people on the move and a structure of articulation between the unflinching movement of Blacks, politically, and the unflinching fantasies of Blacks, cinematically.

Cover of Jack Kirby and Stan Lee’s Fantastic Four, no. 52(Marvel, July 1966).

This is because these filmmakers lived at a special time in history: “special because it culminated in an embrace of Black violence which had not been seen before.” The novelty of the BLA, or at least of its spectral presence in the zeitgeist, was its use of violence. The incomparable Black Panther, which is based on a fiction first dreamed up by Stan Lee and Jack Kirby for the July 1966 issue of Fantastic Four, is still marked by its origins today, long after a backlash against the Black and communist revolutionary violence of the ’70s left the would-be revolutionaries of today hyper-surveilled, facing highly militarized police forces, and subject to psychological difficulties wrought by the state’s attempts to persecute the revolution by wrecking communities and spirits.

But chance moves the world, as does the stricter machinery of value and fate. The movie’s marketing exploited the title’s ostensible reference to the Black Panthers, but the connection is mostly accidental: Bobby Seale and Huey Newton founded the political organization in October of the same year the character first appeared in Fantastic Four, borrowing the name from a panther logo used by the Alabama-based Lowndes County Freedom Organization. The ambient availability of the phrase black panther as a symbol for groups of Black people is illustrated by the 761st Tank Battalion, a World War II unit of African American soldiers who fought a “continuous 183 days at the front,” collectively received some three hundred Purple Hearts, and were later described by their general in the following terms: “Individually they were good soldiers, but . . . a colored soldier cannot think fast enough to fight in armor.” They too were nicknamed the Black Panthers. As the writer Derica Shields notes in an upcoming book, black panther is not a species of cat; it is a designation for a black cat of any type. “The melanistic color variant of any big cat species” is how Wikipedia puts it. The word pantheralso means “black cat,” so black panther is a tautology, a black black thing. Blackness pushes the animal out of its category, perhaps even out of the category of the animal. Blackness cleaves—as in joins and splits—the human and the animal. What a magic property!

Black Panther Party poster featuring cofounder Huey P. Newton, 1968. Photo: Blair Stapp/Library of Congress.

I HAVE NOTICED many times in public and private life that people often hesitate for a beat before enunciating the word black, as if the simple syllable were too hard to pronounce, too much to say. As if they wanted to prove Wilderson—who is often accused of being too emo or dramatic in his Afro-pessimism—right. Black Panther comes trailing this too-muchness as a birthright, crowned by a single now-famous line of dialogue: “Bury me in the ocean with my ancestors that jumped from ships, because they knew death was better than bondage.” It’s spoken to the first Black Panther, King T’Challa (Chadwick Boseman), by the second, Erik Killmonger (Michael B. Jordan), an American-born challenger to the Wakandan throne, who is the blackest thing in the movie. The line echoes—with a certain amount of noise and distortion imbued by more than forty years of political disappointment—the spectral presence of the BLA in the output of ’70s Black filmmakers. The idea that death is preferable to bondage, and, relatedly,that those held in bondage are in a sense already dead, animates the political violence that Wilderson (following Sylvia Wynter) sees as emerging from the fact that white society positions Black people outside of the Human, in the ontological position of the Slave. Wilderson writes, “The question of political agency began to go something like this: What kind of imaginative labor is required to squash the political capacity of the Human being so that we might catalyze the political capacity of the Black?” Blackness opposes humanity insofar as humanity, as it’s politically constructed today—a partial allocation, easily forgotten at the border or in a wrong neighborhood—opposes life. For Wilderson, Black death-in-life opposes white-capitalist life-as-death, whose poison seeps into the tiniest particles of the world.

On his side, the Black insurrectionist has Nothing—the embodiment of nothing, the nothingness of the world.

The grinding reality of the death cult under which we are living is why people cry at the scene where Wakandan planes bust through the force field separating Wakanda from the rest of the world, revealing the country’s bustling cityscape untouched by the horrors of history. Not me, though; there’s just something in my eye. “This never gets old,” says the new king of Wakanda, as the vista of a world without pain opens up before him.

Ryan Coogler, Black Panther, 2018, 4K video, color, sound, 134 minutes. Erik Killmonger (Michael B. Jordan).

WHAT IS TO be done for the rest of the world, the pained world? The struggle between the two Black Panthers, Killmonger and T’Challa, allegorizes a tension between insurrectionist and reformist politics. The reformer has reason, pragmatism, and a chance of a career—he has the world and worldliness. On his side, the Black insurrectionist has Nothing—the embodiment of nothing, the nothingness of the world. T’Challa seems to halfway recognize the truth in Killmonger, who arrives in the fantastical Black kingdom of Wakanda with the full force of reality. But no sooner has T’Challa regretted murdering his revolutionary shadow side than he is off to the United Nations to announce a Wakandan education and outreach program. In the Marvel Universe, the United Nations works perfectly, exactly as it set out to in 1945, but everything in this world is like that: Killmonger as a Black insurrectionist has at his disposal not only the metaphorical and spiritual material of blackness, but also a weaponizable manifestation of it in the form of the Wakandan metal, vibranium, which he has forcibly repatriated from a British museum. Magic and technology are indivisible. No sooner has a true hero conceived of his quest than its materials spring into his hands. The apoliticality of the superhero movie is in the inevitability of success. The supposed apoliticality of Afro-pessimism, according to its critics, is in the inevitability of failure.

Soldiers from Dog Company of the 761st Tank Battalion check equipment before leaving England for combat in France, 1944.

T’Challa is emphatically not in the position of the dead, but, like those already dead, he is invulnerable to violence. His sister, Shuri (Letitia Wright), presents him with one of her inventions, a new outfit for his superheroic activities that absorbs and channels the energy of blows and bullets. Wearing this suit, he is almost completely immune to physical attack. I didn’t think of ’70s Black cinema when I first saw Black Panther, but I did think about the specter of Black political violence. In C. L. R. James’s visionary 1938 history of the Haitian Revolution, The Black Jacobins: Toussaint L’Ouverture and the San Domingo Revolution, he describes early attempts at mass uprising, some of which invoked spiritual assistance. During an attack on Port-au-Prince, the twenty-one-year-old slave leader Hyacinth “ran from rank to rank crying that his talisman would chase death away. He charged at their head, passing unscathed through the bullets and grape-shot.” His followers were predisposed to be brave, and fought “without fear or care” of the bullets fired at them: “If they were killed they would wake again in Africa.”

We give

Black Panther

this intensity of attention not because anyone necessarily sympathizes with its aims, but because it’s

so good

.

In another passage, James describes an extraordinary scene from late in the revolutionary war. A division of the Black army, led by an officer named Capois Death—“so-called on account of his bravery”—attacks one of the failing French army’s few remaining strongholds:

Capois led the assault . . . shouting “Forward, forward!” The French . . . drove off the blacks again and again only to see them return to the attack with undiminished ardor. A bullet knocked over Capois’ horse. Boiling with rage he scrambled up and, making a gesture of contempt with his sword, he continued to advance. “Forward, forward!”

The French, who had fought on so many fields, had never seen fighting like this. From all sides came a storm of shouts. “Bravo! Bravo!” There was a roll of drums. The French ceased fire. A French horseman rode out and advanced to the bridge. He brought a message. . . . “The Captain-General sends his admiring compliments to the officer who has just covered himself with so much glory.” Without a shot fired from the blacks, the horseman turned and rode back to the blockhouse and the battle began again. The struggle had been such a nightmare that by now all in San Domingo were a little mad, both white and black.

Ryan Coogler, Black Panther, 2018, 4K video, color, sound, 134 minutes.

The Haitian Revolution, which took place between 1791 and 1804, was the complicated heart of an era of intense political and social upheaval that inaugurated what we understand as modernity. If the French and American revolutions are more celebrated for what they supposedly tell us about freedom, that’s partly because what they tell us about freedom is more palatable, and partly for the usual reasons: Eurocentrism and plain racism. The image of French troops applauding the bravery of the Black army while prosecuting a war founded on their subhumanity felt consonant with Black Panther, not the movie exactly, but the event. Black panther has, through “the unflinching movement of Blacks, politically,” become a thrilling phrase, while those who moved unflinchingly remain in prison, and the object of their movement—liberation, not of the bourgeois bearers of race like me, but of the ghetto and the slum—feels distant. But all revolutions were nearly inconceivable before they happened.

Kant thought that enthusiasm for the French Revolution among people whom it affected only indirectly was proof of a “moral disposition within the human race.” Does enthusiasm for a fictional Black Panther in a country that jails real ones prove anything? A long time after the beginning of the revolution in 1791, we are all still “a little mad.” In an era of white-supremacist panic, as the police and their allies work to deny Herman Bell his freedom, visions of Black power are capable of moving audiences to wonder.

Page from Le Petit Parisien, December 20, 1908, depicting the Haitian revolution. Illustration: Paul Dufresne.

IN A FAINT ECHO—farce this time, not tragedy—of the war anecdote above, we give Black Panther this intensity of attention not because anyone necessarily sympathizes with its aims, but because it’s so good. The movie is a faultless example of the fantasy blockbuster, from script to shots to costumes and set design. Reeling from my first viewing, I wondered if this was how people felt in 1977 after they first saw Star Wars.

Reduced to its bare bones, the superhero genre usually features an extraordinary individual or small group of extraordinary individuals who are faced with some kind of dilemma. (The dilemma, in which character faces off with fate, is the screenwriter’s primary means of evoking the ambivalences and contradictions of real life; of course, in the movies, as sometimes in life, character often becomes fate.) Circumstances call the extraordinary individual out of retirement or seek him out in obscurity; perhaps, in a weird militaristic fantasy that even the recent mechanization and long-standing misery of war has not ended, he is just so good at fighting that the struggle can’t be won without him. Through guile and force, he triumphs against his enemies and receives love and admiration, though he remains essentially alone.

Anthony Russo and Joe Russo, Captain America: Civil War, 2016, 2K video, color, sound, 147 minutes. From left: Black Panther (Chadwick Boseman), Vision (Paul Bettany), Iron Man (Robert Downey Jr.), Black Widow (Scarlett Johansson), and War Machine (Don Cheadle).

In the kickoff to this latest phase of Marvel movies, Captain America: Civil War (2016), infighting breaks out between the superheroes when the United Nations demands oversight and control of their activities. In one of many plot twists, a bomb goes off at the UN and kills T’Challa’s father, making T’Challa the new Black Panther. Amid the background of the heroes’ paranoia and aggression, the simplicity of T’Challa’s quest—to apprehend the person responsible for his father’s death���cuts through. The script is self-conscious and thoughtful about its genre: We see superheroes confronted by the mothers of people they killed as they went about killing the bad guys; we hear about cities left in ruins by their heroic actions. The movie’s critique of the nationalism and machismo of the classic superhero tradition is so evident, it’s like watching something collapse into itself.

Following the tradition of undoing tradition, Killmonger’s presence in Black Panther ruptures the superhero conceit and multiplies the meaning of the movie’s title; his intervention produces two Black Panthers in the same movie, making sense of the title’s lack of definite article: Black Panther, not The Black Panther. The camera articulates the disruption to the natural order of things, so that as Killmonger approaches the Panther’s throne, we see him upside-down and rotating upright. Even the movie’s premise is askance from the superhero model of individuated power: The Black Panther is an ancestral title, not a happy accident. Killmonger doesn’t care; he is here, full of revolutionary fervor, to burn the bad world to the ground.

Contemporary reproduction of the United States Army 761st Tank Battalion’s military patch.

If the presence of the Black Panther T’Challa in Civil War renders bankrupt or irrelevant the political strivings of the white superheroes, then the presence of the Black Panther Killmonger in Black Panther is what renders bankrupt or irrelevant the strivings of the Black Panther. Although the Black revolution has been deprived of means, it is kept alive as an image. For what purpose, the future will find out, and in the meantime the present lives by its light.

Hannah Black is an artist and writer based in New York.

#Hannah Black #2018 #Black Panther

[coolpolarbear123]

Band Camp Day 2

I need to stop writing these at midnight.

August 21st, 2018

Day 1 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7

NOT LAST:

Alright, so I’ll begin with random stuff I forgot from yesterday, as always

1) This band is, if not the biggest, one of the biggest bands this college has ever had, at 127 people.

127 people

Re: “This band is 120 people--double my old band” from sophomore year

Catch my drift?

2) This is includes the picc section, by the way. Fifteen people is a lot. I understand. I really understand when we’re tuning.

3) Everything has a call and response. Are you turning? How about turning around? Lateral sliding?

This brings me to terminology: I’m so sad I don’t get to kick any babies anymore

And now today: First thing’s first: I’m noncompliant! This means I did something wrong.

I forgot my nametag.

If someone is noncompliant, they get to dance in front of the entire band at the end of the day. (Spoiler: half the band was also noncompliant. I stood in a corner and waited until it was done)

All of the instruments are really good at sticking to their stereotypes. The clarinets dance to everything, the saxophones formed an actual cult (they were holding hands, chanting or something at one point), the trumpets are... well, you know, and the piccolos?

Well, we screech a lot

And I don’t mean with the actual piccolo

I think our goal this year is to be more annoying than the saxophones. At this rate, we’ll be the first ever to do it.

Everyone loves talking about high school marching band--not just the freshman

So, while doing marching practice, there’s a block we have to stand in. We’re standing in this block, at attention, and we have our instrument in our hands.

We’re practicing turning, so we turn, and the band director makes a comment that’s something along the lines of, “Harder to do when you have a sousaphone or bass drum, huh?” And a bass drum happens to be walking by us at the moment and basically says, “Yeah, no sh*t, Sherlock,” except that’s in my words and not his because I don’t remember his.

There was a word that started with a T in his phrase. That’s all I’ve got for you.

Also, you know the classic: “Band atten-hut!”? And everyone goes to attention completely off guard? There isn’t really that here. We have a sort of “preparation” attention and then “attention-attention,” and those are just called by saying stuff like “to the ready” and “band, atten-hut, atten-hut,” like, super casually.

My humour is officially accepted by the piccs:

“...was that too dark for you? Sometimes that’s too dark for some people.” Me, walking up to the conversation, “Sometimes I’m too dark for some people.” “Whoa. whOA. WHOAAAA.” Cue laughter.

Counting outloud is encouraged and it’s fantastic

Stands songs!!! Have!!!! Dances!!!!!!!!!!!

At the end of the day, we always sing the alma mater and the fight song, and no one has taught it to us yet. Please. Let me learn. I can’t just keep standing there.

We’re playing “25 or 6 to 4,” which is a song my old band played, except this is a different key and the rhythms are different.

Speaking of which, this is my third time trying to reteach myself the SSB. Gods, I hate that song

“Star Spangled Banner” for anyone who doesn’t know

We were practicing indoors, and the band director had the percussion say something, and every now and then, there’s this weird noise coming from... somewhere. It sounded sort of saxophone-like, but it wasn’t a saxophone. Eventually we were all laughing too hard, and the conductor stopped and asked, “What is that?” “The speakers!” The band director then tried to fix it. It was not fixed. Let’s just say we had to move on.

Snares: “Hey, we have two pieces of the same song, and they’re both different. Which one do you want us to play?” “The one by X and arranged by Y.” “They both are.” “Pick the yellower one.” “They’re white.”

Man, during tuning, he’s going section by section, and piccs are always last at stuff, right? So eventually he’s like, “Oh, yeah, and piccs,” and we all raise our piccs to tune to Bb

The Devil’s noise is heard, and half of us immediately take our instruments down to adjust. We put them up, and more people take them down. Rinse and repeat. None of us actually want to hear fifteen piccs at the same time. None of us can tune fifteen piccs at a time.

The clarinets cannot hold in their laughter at us trying to tune

I couldn’t either, honestly. Gods, who made this instrument?

We break off into sectionals

The clarinets: “I mean... we could go outside, I guess.” The piccs: “Haha we wouldn’t. Someone would call 911 on us.” Picc Drill Instructor: “I’d call 911 on a piccolo, honestly.” The Rest of the Piccs: “So would we.”

So, we’re going over a song that has dance moves, and basically we dip either down or up on this one phrase. It alternates.

Drill Instructor: “Go down on the D” *wink* Section Leader: “OH MY GOD WHAT” DI: “That’s how I was taught it!” DI: “Okay, and then you go up on the F” SL: “YOU KNOW IT”

Fastforward, we’re practicing some runs on our own for the fight song, and one of the picc players walk in--a junior, I think--and she just says, “That sounds terrible.”

Yes, I know we’re picc players. Shush.

Look, I know that after hearing these stories, you’re probably thinking that we’re really efficient and use our time wisely--constantly practicing.

I assure you, we’re not. Literally every time we broke into sectionals during marching today, our drill instructor told us stories until someone looked over at us, where she made us march in circles until we could go back to storytime.

The picc section, everyone.

There’s a song we’re playing called Free, and some how people only either have the first page or the second page, or if you’re a snare drum, you only have the last two measures.

I’m not joking--it’s a tiny slip of paper that says “Free” at the top and only has two measures.

There’s another song, and the picc part is handwritten. It’s really fun to watch all of the piccs lean forward in unison as we try to read our music. It’s also fun to hear us all stop in confusion. You can tell when fifteen piccs aren’t playing.

Or, we can

And the band director could

Dinner! The most exciting thing that happened was that some football player was getting a drink, and the machine just kept going, even after he took his cup away. My friend and I were the only ones who saw, and we were laughing, and he looked at us like, “I have no idea what to do.” That continued for a couple more minutes before he managed to fix it.

It was super funny, though, the dude was frantic. Flailed his arms a bit and everything

Back to marching practice, and the drill instructor has to make us march because a drum major is making her way over. Everyone else is playing follow the leader, so what does she decide to have us do?

Play follow the leader

Also known as Snakes, I guess

Our section leader led, and as she went on, she got worse and worse, eventually just yelling “oh god, oh god, oH GOD” over and over until none of us could shout our commands because we were laughing too hard.

We almost ran into the percs at that time. That was a major “OH GOD” moment from our section leader.

The newbies all had to march in a block on their own today. We suckkkkk

There’s a formation we stand in to practice playing songs without marching, so we’re in that, and we’re trying to tune (which never ends well, as we’ve learned by now), and:

Band director: “Do you know what’s worse than one piccolo?” Us: “Fifteen?” Band director: “Two.”

It’s 9 o’clock: the day is over. However, every day there are schedules activities, and today’s is a scavenger hunt.

We’re in groups by section, and we all had to meet up at a specific place. Eventually there’s a bunch of sections there, and each are doing their own thing. Trumpets are yelling “oof” in unison, saxophones were being cultists, piccs were silently chanting “not last, not last,” and the mellophones were all trying to not pee their pants.

Literally all of them had to use the bathroom, and there’s more mellophones than piccs, if you need a reference.

Our section leader somehow gets one of the locked doors open, and yells over to our drill instructor, “Hey, look!” “[SL] OPENED THE DOOR GUYS” *Huge rush of mellophones run into the building at top speed”

Someone starts playing music near us piccs. Many emo songs. We all know the words.

We get the list, and we’re off. 20 minutes, let’s do this.

I should mention that this activity is optional, but we had a little over half of us there.

I should also mention some background. They do this every year, and last year the piccs got last. The returning picc players had been telling us this for all of today. That means for all of today, we had all been silently saying “second to last” as our goal for today. All we wanted was second to last. Low standards, right?

So, we race around. There’s bonus points for creativity. For instance, one the things is, “Throw out the trash.” Last year, everyone threw away people, so we decided to throw out our piccs.

We made our SL a Sasquatch at one point

etc etc etc fun times. This post is too long for me to name everything

Twenty minutes later, we’re all sitting in circles by section on the grass, and the trumpets start singing songs. The clarinets start singing songs. The saxophones are holding hands and doing... something. The flutes are playing an unsuccessful game of “Two truths and a lie.”

“Are we gonna play Never Have I Ever at B-Dubs, then?” “PICCS DON’T DO BUTT STUFF”

The piccs start singing, too, once we realize we can’t do anything else. It’s something of a competition at this point.

I bring up the idea of Bohemian Rhapsody (hm), and so we start singing it, the trumpets join in, the clarinets are in, the other band members also probably also in, who knows. We manage to finish the song.

From that point on, the clarinets just sang with us. The trumpets were able to get the mellophones every now and then, I think

The piccs eventually get up and do the “Cha Cha Slide.” We manage to get everyone to clap their hands at that part.

Returning picc players are now raving about how much better the picc section is this year. Apparently last year they were a bunch of b*tches. This year is better, according to them. They love us, also according to them.

We keep doing whacky stuff while standing up. It’s a lot of fun, honestly.

Lots of random screeches, calls, and screams. While the trumpets have an “oof” thing, we have a “whatever comes to mind” thing

This includes “Piccs don’t do butt stuff,” “not last, not last,” actual screaming, and much more.

Other songs we sang include: “Firework,” by Katy Perry, “You Belong With Me,” by Taylor Swift, “What Does the Fox Say,” “Call Me, Beep Me,” and many others.

The results are in

The piccs are crossing their fingers for not last

not last not last not last not last not last

“In last place... the... trumpets!”

The piccolos are screaming. Everyone looks at us like we’re crazy

“NOT LAST NOT LAST NOT LAST”

“SECOND TO LAST SECOND TO LAST SECOND TO LAST”

“In second to last... the trombones!”

Piccolos are screaming even more. There’s no way we made it so far up. The returning members are screaming about how good this year is.

“The clarinets!”

The piccolos are so loud, the drum major is staring at the clarinets while gesturing to us like they should beat us up

It keeps going, and the piccolos keep screaming. The goal is to beat the saxes

It comes down to first and second. How did we make it this far? It’s super clear that the saxes won, by the way. They’re the saxes

Drum rolllllllllllllll

“And the winner is....”

“THE PICCOLOS”

Screaming is too soft of a word at this point. We all started chanting “NOT LAST NOT LAST NOT LAST” again. The returning members are super excited about this.

So,,,, many,,,, pictures are taken

“Gang Sign”

Last year, this whole thing happened, I guess, and basically what came out of it was this gang sign for the piccs, so now we all do that for pictures.

In the large group photo, we held up pinkies for first place

In the picc photos, all of us did gang signs

I feel like I’m missing something big, but I’m always missing stuff, which is why I put it in the next post. If I remember, you can check Day 3 when it comes out.

#cpb speaks #band camp #marching band #2k18 BC Adventures #rant #CBC #I wish I could shorten these to some reasonable amount #but fitting twelve and a half hours in is hard #band

[cafephan]

dan and phil play my horse prince #3: a summary

two seconds in and already a questionable horse impression okay time to strap in for another weird one 

"i knew you were going to start clopping" 

clopping??? klopping???? clopping looks better so i'm going with that 

"cloppity clop when will we stop.... is the question many of you have been asking" aw they saw my tweets 

dan licked his lips as he looked over to phil SAME 

he is wearing the ladybird jumper so i agree 

remember the ladybird jumper selfie??? let's take a moment 

okay back to the video 

it was a nice moment of remembrance though right 

anyway 

"i like a good divisive series" 

"this is our great youtube controversy, phil" 

those people that are uncomfortable, it's legit the same level of sexual tension dnp have on a regular basis just in the form of a girl and horse like,,, it's 2017 the hat/cherry/lung/milk/kitten/whatever else fic exists there are more disturbing things out there

they're validating those of you though, good for you i'm happy for your notices

"it's not literal bestiality" // "it's just a lol" "a nice little lol... just a casual lol" 

"i think we should do this one and see how we feel" i mean finally putting that positions book to good use 

there's not much eye contact so far are they okay 

i think recently we've been spoilt with eye contact and now we're feeling like something's wrong because they're not gawking at each other 

"so whether you want to or not, strap yourselves in for ten minutes of erotic equine roleplay"

phil demonstrating that sweet sweet hand porn 

"i don't think we should've encouraged you with the fanart" story of your life innit lads 

congrats to those phanartists that got noticed!! you're very talented and i appreciate you!!! 

i appreciate the last one which highlights the shaved sides i liked that a lot ty

"the less we talk about that the better" legit the phandom about 2012 

dan's reaction to the fanart,,, get those screenshots 

"keep it coming.... or don't, it's up to you" phil pls you're making it too easy for me 

"do you need to do that though?" // "i do, it's a thing now" living for the little domestic i feel deprived 

"dog. dog has a moustache." 

"phil that makes no sense" as if u never make any mistakes howell phil's waiting to call you out like the absolute savage that he is 

remember the thomas the tank engine fuck-up, phil was right on that 

phil's laugh my ears are blessed 

they have two very different reactions to a horse making breakfast 

i found another of dan's kinks who's keeping tabs on them all we've got another to add to the list 

"what's a good... lad? one that makes breakfast, the morning after" is that a subtle wink wink nudge nudge, daniel 

"i'm hyped. this, this is, this is a soap." dan is so excited he's tripping on his words 

he's staring at phil okay world order has been restored 

"you know you love it, stop lying to yourself" // "you love it. just thumbs it up anyway, if you don't like it" 

i love the detailed hair angles we get when they both look down on the screen i appreciate it a lot 

do you think phil will ever ditch the straighteners 

"that's really posh" phil the savage already getting his revenge

congrats hp stans for phil dropping that reference 

did they just compare all of our mums to a horse 

"anyone that exudes glitter and makes sure that you're resting on the weekend... that's who you need in your life" 

"maybe susankun's on the crunchy nut like us" i bet you both are 

maybe see a doctor about that 

i'm not sorry 

"am i the dog? i think i'm the dog" phil says after barking and effectively claiming the role of the dog 

"you just frickin volunteered" dan the savage 

"that was some good borks" so any excuse to compliment phil huh

"what is this video" me every time i read these summaries before posting them, i relate phil 

"some good pottery" 

"unless this is a magnetic knife, how is the horse holding it? with that horse thumb he's just gonna grow?" 

dan demonstrates the claw technique 

look at that hand movement fluidity this ain't his first rodeo 

dan... are u ok.... you've just been in this position for four seconds... 

turned into seven seconds, the longest seven seconds of my life.... is it one of the new 7sc they tweeted out for

“can i stroke him?” // “i’ll give him a stroke”

lanky emo lads fawn over hairbrush functions

that sounded like a weird porn didn’t it oh god no

“look at this roleplay, we nintendogs now”

“oh yeah, feel my brush” 

dan gives that side-eye, he doesn’t like phil saying that to anyone else

the singing quota for this video has been filled

thought they were going to give us a sweet harmony for don’t speak and do no doubt proud but nope dan decides to parody it

this is not the harmony i wanted stop singing a weird cult theme or whatever the fuck it is

leek or spring onion will we ever know

phil is intent on killing simulations recently is he ok

“sorry guys” dan is on hand to comfort us

may need to rethink some comfort fic prompts i have

“is it okay? is anything about this okay?” if the existential crisis branding was still relevant he’d be on the floor rn

“shall we have a chat? a little horsey chinwag?” yes phil come back to your northern roots i’ve missed you

“a really long-faced chinwag” you tried dan but you will always be a southerner you can’t pull off chinwag

“is a carrot a fruit?” mister university asking the real question

is dan actually googling it

“AHA it was to catch us out for being an idiot!” i mean, you googled it so.... aren’t you still an idiot

phil is an orange kinda guy, dan is a grapefruit kinda guy...... explains a lot if you think about it

“he hates me again!” // “i can’t believe he hates me again, straight away...” pretty sure i’ve read that exact line of dialogue in a fic before

“what can i say? i’m more in tune with my inner.... horse... man”

casual head scratch as he silently prays for nobody to pick up on that quote

“deep fry anything, and that’s a winner”

“the choices hurt me so bad”

trying to justify this game just falls flat

no amount of meaningful speeches are rectifying it dan

but it’s not stopping him trying

oh he’s stopped now

“i think we should get our things back”

“this is our life” enjoy u demons

“great. i love my life” phil i just don’t even know what to say stop looking like you’re showing a lemon a good time 

take out the lemon and stare at your wavy haired companion

if i used that line in a fic would you disown me

what kind of accent did dan just try to say field in because he sounded like me

“a horse can’t go on rollercoasters is what i’m thinking” // “can a horse go to the cinema?” “no, he’s going to get in the way of everyone’s screen” wow dan and phil, damperers of horse dreams since their corresponding years of birth

“yes, dan’s credit card is about to spend more money on this horse app” of course it’s dan that volunteers his card, phil would never 

he’s the voice of emo goose he only spends money on luxury apps

mister moneybags high brands stan has no problem forking it out tho good for you son get some

“i am this entire developer’s number one supporter” me when dapg was announced

the frenzy time music is something special

“phil you’re doing the impossible quiz again and that is like ten out of ten banned” younger kirsten is crying

phil’s real laugh comes out to play again welcome back old friend i love you

“is she falling in love with the dog? is that what we’re asking?”

phil’s voice is like monotone throughout all of these videos he couldn’t give less of a shit

he’s just humouring dan’s kink(s)

dan stop criticising phil’s horse voice you can’t have it all for yourself all of the time we need as much of it as you do

“i am ready for this” me whenever they upload on a day that’s not the same day i’m posting a fic

there are very different theories about the multitude of onions

again phil’s includes death

i’m beginning to expect it

“oh he’s gone a bit sassy”

“passive aggressive.... okay” dan we feel the same way when we found out phil’s sent a dm

“i feel it coming.... i feel it coming... are you ready? am i ready?”

“that’s just dreamy. i’m in love with that” // “that is dreamy. i’d like that as a poster in my bathroom” 

“that is the thickest spring onion i have ever seen in my entire life” // “it’d take a lot of gnashing” phil demonstrates said gnashing thank you for showing those teggies

“look at the girth on that one” you know what you did dan don’t blame us when the fics come rolling in

the onion fic

“how do you not love this? people, i mean come on, this is better than the current season of the walking dead”

uncomfortable fidgeting as dan realises he’s pissed off hundreds of thousands of people

staring at phil again yes i’m living

“this is better than the wire” phil doesn’t want to leave dan all alone in the opinion firing line

“it’s turning into that cake outtake from tatinof” HOW DARE YOU.

feeling less guilty having watched it now u fuckers

“it’s literally the cake situation”

seriously i’m going to watch it again just to spite you both

“imagine a horse pushing you against a wall and force-feeding you spring onions” dan i love you but i’m going to have to reject this prompt

the game turns sinister and they both look the most excited they’ve looked for the entire video

“this is fulfilling every kink that our audience might have” in which dan tries to push his weird kinks onto us out of fear phil will judge him

“is the next one set in the afterlife?”

“i feel like i went to a place i didn’t think i was going to”

“so real talk, let’s get real” phil i like that you’re trying to get close to the camera but you’re still too far away it’s not doing what you think it’s doing

“if you don’t want us to do this ever again...” “what’s wrong with you” honestly dan same

they’re literally encouraging thumbs down??? how long have they been in the youtube game???

“tell us your opinions down there” oh dear god they’re encouraging the fanfiction

“if you want the horse, we want to give you the horse. you know what we’re saying?” 

it’s hard to quote when they’re both talking at the same time BE POLITE AND LET EACH OTHER SPEAK 

“this is a two way relationship...” why did phil’s smile grow when dan said that

“slice our subscribe button like a spring onion” // “please don’t stab your laptop and/or mobile device” // “trot over to our other channels”

danisnotchoking (but he wants to be)

AmazingSpringOnion

#I'M SORRY THIS IS SO LATE #i was watching ant and dec and my parents and i were waiting for our takeaway #it took an hour longer than it should've #so i only had time to finish this now #but this was fuuuuuuuuuun