#jerad head

[yourmamakira]

Jealousy, Jealousy

Wilbur Soot × Fem!Reader

Very Short Blurb/Fluff

If I had to choose a theme song for my Lovely Boyfriend Wilbur soot, it'd have to be Jealousy, Hell the entire Sour album.

I am Currently waiting in the school nurse beside my Bloody boyfriend. because Yet again, He's gotten into a fight.

I sighed and looked down at Wilbur "Really Will. Again? I told you to drop it now look at you I mean if you had to fight any, really Jerad?-"

"What, don't think I could win?"

I scoffed "Wilbur. Jerad is the head of the foot ball team. You...are in band"

"Whats that matter!-"

"It matters because you got your ass handed to you on a plate. I told you I had it handled. I know you want help me love, I know you do. But I've got this, okay?"

I spoke down to him like a Child, but at this point what's the different.

"Im just tired if him flirting with you"

"You shouldn't get tired or worried-"

"How can I not?! He's a fucking foot ball player, he has a lot of money, he's down right fucking handsome and If I were you I would leave me To...I just...I just don't wanna leave you.."

the ice bag that he's been holding on his eye came down to his lap

I grabbed his face and tipped it to look at me

"Wilbur. Listen to me love. I would never trade you in. Not for the best Dimond. Not for all the money in the world. Not for the Shineyist car or how ever many Hots you get for a guy. I don't need any of that, because everything I want I already have, You. You are my everything. And and I wouldn't trade that in for a goddam empire."

He smiled up at me from his spot on the bed and I leaned down and gave him a Kiss on the beanie.

The nurse came back and gave him more medicine for his eye and more ice so it would go down, she sent him home and allowed me to go to.

For the rest of the day off we watched movies and Held eachother like the other would leave forever.

#wilbut soot #dream smp #nonbinary #fluff prompts #dreamsmp #wilbur soot x reader #mcyt x reader #wilbur mcyt #fanfic #short blurb

[i-will-physically-fight-you]

Gibbous Chapter 10

Chapter Title: The Arrow In Your Throat

Chapter Summary: Sleep, for Virgil, sadly did not resolve all of life’s issues. Of course, he didn’t presume it’d resolve much of anything. His life wasn’t an anime—he wasn’t going to fall asleep and wake up to discover he’d entered a magical fantasy world, unburdened by all of life’s hardships. If anything, he was more likely to end up as a true crime victim more than anything else

Pairings: platonic lamp & platonic logicality

Chapter Word-Count: 4.4k

Warnings: Verbal/Emotional Abuse, Anxiety, Depression, Paranoia, Arguing, Sickness

Previous | Present | Next   AO3 LINK

Late posting but here is the newest chapter now on tumblr, enjoy!

-

Sleep, for Virgil, sadly did not resolve all of life’s issues. Of course, he didn’t presume it’d resolve much of anything. His life wasn’t an anime—he wasn’t going to fall asleep and wake up to discover he’d entered a magical fantasy world, unburdened by all of life’s hardships. If anything, he was more likely to end up as a true crime victim more than anything else. He used to listen to true crime podcasts and wonder how those morons placed themselves in such situations that led to their doom.

He didn’t wonder that anymore.

So, no he didn’t think sleep would be really much help in the My-Best-Friend-Has-Possibly-Been-Mind-Controlling-Me department. He wasn’t asking for a magical fix-all. He had only hoped it’d at least lessen the pulsating headache that followed him from the night club. It would’ve been nice to wake up and be able to think coherent thoughts.

Whatever gods exist must be take pleasure at his expense or something, because that apparently had been too much to ask for. It was as if one of those brain-sucking insects Virgil saw on TV once crawled inside his ear and started burrowing a hole into his brain. It was a sharp, stinging, stabbing pain that only increased with the slightest tilt of his head.

It wasn’t just his head, however. His whole body twinged like an army of fire ants marched across it, carving a war path of stinging aches behind. His body also decided to pressure-cook the contents of his innards or something, because he felt like a sentient boiling pot. He groaned, sluggishly bringing a hand to rest against his forehead.

“Fuck.” Virgil exhaled, fingers clutching tightly to his fleece blanket. He wanted to tear the fabric apart, sentimental value or not. No, better yet, he wanted to punch someone, feel the rush of forbidden adrenaline from the action. It wouldn’t solve anything, but it might make feel him better.

Sick. He was sick again. Just like he was sick several weeks ago and how he’ll be sick in the weeks to come. The lack of energy, brain fog, the headache of last night—he should know by now those were signs of an oncoming cold. Gods know he had his entire life to learn how to anticipate and prepare for his ailment of the month.

Deep down, he knew he’d let his guard down because the last few months had been mild. A few sniffles here, an earache there. He’d been doing so well that he should’ve known it was inevitable that he’d eventually get hit with something akin to flu-like levels of devastation. After all, who was Virgil to think a few months of perceived fortune was anything indicative of something long-lasting?

An unwanted wetness dripped down his face. Apparently, he was a moron, a pathetic coward who’d refused to see the truth that danced so blatantly in front of his eyes. Jerad had said it best; Remy and the others didn’t care about him. Not really—he was just a curiosity, a plaything to them. They probably found it amusing to string him along, to see in which ways he’d flee away or fight back with them.

Sure, Jerad was not much different—but at least he was more upfront with it. It was Virgil’s fault for falling it, of course. He should’ve known better—why had he given them the benefit of doubt so easily?

Virgil knew, of course, why. Loneliness, the desperate need to belong somewhere, played a huge factor. But it was much more than that. It wrapped up in a promise, an oath unspoken to anyone but his parents.

“Promise that if you come across a supernatural being—be it vampire, werewolf or otherwise—you treat them with the respect and manners we’d expect you to treat anyone, be it a grown-up or your friends even. If they mean you immediate harm, you do what is necessary to protect yourself. But unless you know someone is a supernatural being, you cannot share this promise with them.”

Virgil didn’t fully understand it back then. He still didn’t understand to this day. But he’d trusted his parents, trusted they’d knew better than anyone else for the simple fact of being his parents.

Maybe his parents knew a vampire or some other supernatural being who’d been kind. Maybe they’d hoped to reveal to him when he was older, why exactly they asked that of him. It didn’t matter now—it wasn’t like he was ever going to find out. That door was forever closed to him.

Virgil didn’t doubt his parents’ words. He believed they thought that sentiment was true, otherwise they wouldn’t have made him swore to it. They could still be true—but maybe not in the case of Remy and the others.

He didn’t know and it just hurt his head even more just thinking about it.

“Fuuuck.” Virgil whispered, his voice dry and crackly like a faint radio signal.

There was nothing more he wanted than to curl up under his blanket and hoped he could ignore the whole world and its problems. If there was one benefit to being sick, it was at least a physical manifestation of how miserable he felt mentally.

Then, as if the gods decided to fuck with him even further, his alarm on his phone to wake up for work went off.

He blindly made a grab for his phone, nearly dropping the damn thing in the process. He brought it within the safety confines of his blanket, blearily staring at the alarm notification. The noise grated against his ears as he stared at it. He needed to turn it off, but his brain was too occupied with the task of trying to think about the dilemma of work.

Sickness aside, the thought of going to work made him want to puke.

Sure, apparently Remy wouldn’t be there. Great news for Virgil because he didn’t think he could handle the sight of him. Not without the memory of how effortlessly he enthralled that poor bartender without any hesitation or hint of remorse. Red eyes that could hurt Virgil so easily without even his knowledge. The mere idea hurt—because it was Remy, who seemed to think Virgil meant something.

It was also Remy, who illegally confiscated his personal records and pressured him into a job interview without batting an eye.

He still didn’t understand why Remy hadn’t chased after him last night. Or why he’d abruptly decided to take a leave of absence from their work. Was this some sort of ploy to lure him into a false sense of security? Was Logan in on the plan?

That was the thing as well. Remy aside, walking into work would be like walking into a den of wolves. Lately, Logan kept asking questions that felt probing in nature.  

“You are aware you don’t have to do everything on your own strength—that you can rely on others for help, yes?” Logan asked him a week back as he kept Virgil from toppling a whole crate of books over.

“Uh yeah?” Virgil muttered, moving to pick up the lone book that had fallen out. Logan regarded him with a look. He didn’t seem disappointed, but he also didn’t seem pleased either. Before Virgil could even say anything else, Logan nodded and murmured something about missing an important meeting.

Logan was definitely the furthest thing from Cathy. He had specifically gifted Virgil a stepstool and occasionally bought him lunch. But if there was anything Virgil learned from life, be it from foster-homes, teachers, or employers, was that it was all a test. A way to see just how far he’d be obedient and stay loyal to their authority.

Perhaps Virgil never quite escaped that basement to begin with. The library was, in its own way, a cage. Should Virgil fail to show up there to do his sentence, there might be consequences worse than the sickness he currently faced.

Therefore, these were the thoughts ruminating in his brain, as the alarm notification continued to screech. Minutes later, perhaps even a half hour, a banging noise erupted on the other side of his door.

“Hey, are you going fucking shut off that alarm or what? It’s fucking annoying!”

Virgil flinched, his finger immediately tapping at the phone screen until the alarm notification shut off. He closed his eyes and stuck out his hand from the covers a middle finger to whatever gods cackling with glee at his misery.

Of course, he got sick. Of course, his best friend hypnotized people for fun and his other friends were the people that once locked him inside a basement for a day. Of course, he managed to fuck things for himself even further up and wake up his hungover roommate.

There was a rule, not one exactly spoken aloud but one understood explicitly between Jerad and Virgil. And it was simple: don’t make any interaction, don’t even make a noise, or turn on a light, when dealing with hungover Jerad.

“S—sorry.” Virgil called out, keeping his voice soft for the sake of quelling Jerad’s temper and for the sake of his throat.

“A-apology, not a—accepted.” Jerad laughed as the doorknob rattled, “Now, could you open the door?”

Virgil could open the door, yes. If he wanted to open the door was another question entirely. He’d like for a physical barrier to stay between him and an irate hungover Jerad, thank you very much. However, the chances Jerad couldn’t knock down a cheaply made interior apartment door was slim to none.

Both Jerad and Virgil knew, it was better for Virgil to stop being a coward and just open the door. It saved a door from being unnecessarily destroyed and it saved Virgil’s paycheck from having to pay for it. So, with legs like gelatin, Virgil headed towards the door.

“Are you deaf inside there—”

“I’m doing it right now.” Virgil snapped. With a trembling hand, he unlocked the door before yanking it wide open.

Jerad blinked down at him with his jaw slightly ajar. He still reeked of alcohol, having not bothered changing out of his outfit from the night before. Virgil’s stomach debated throwing up at the smell. For Virgil’s sake, it settled on simply feeling nauseous by it.

“So,” Virgil said, crossing his arms, “whass’up?”

This seemed to jerk Jerad back to life. A grin slithered onto his face as he knocked a fist against Virgil’s shoulder. “What’s up? What’s up is you look like shit. Did your light-weight ass drink too much?”

Slightly hypocritical coming from a dude squinting in the dim dingy light stemming from a tiny apartment window.

“No, I’m sick.”

“Siiick, uh-huh, suuuure,” Jerad drawled, “It’s funny how you always get “sick” yet I never end up getting sick myself.”

Virgil withheld a grimace. So, they were going to have this conversation again, weren’t they?

“I mean, you always talk about having a strong immunity due to working out?”

“That’s true, I never miss leg day,” Jerad said, chuckling. He clamped an arm around Virgil’s shoulder like the world’s worst neck pillow. “I’m starting to think, though, you’re just being a wimp about allergies. Or maybe, you’re just saying it as an excuse to get out of hanging out with me.”

“No, I swear I’m not—”

“Then you’ll fine to go bar-hopping with me tonight? Maybe go call up that chick of yours and we could have a threesome?” Jerad whispered close to his ear, “I mean, if you don’t want to hang out with me, just say it. Don’t just say you’re sick when we both you know you really aren’t.”

Virgil’s vision swarmed with black dots. Maybe those fire ants from earlier were still pestering him. It would explain the prickling agitation behind his eye sockets. His legs wobbled a bit like that of a newborn foal. The only thing that kept him collapsing was Jerad’s arm snug around his shoulder.

“I’m—okay,” Virgil breathed, trying to not to cough. Because if he coughed, Jerad would just accuse him of faking it and that’d worsen the problem, “You’re right, it’s just allergies, I can go, it’s fine—but I have work—”

Virgil cut off his sentence as Jerad abruptly released him. He stumbled, almost face planting with the doorframe before catching hold of it with his hands. He pressed his forehead against it, trying to will his headache away as the sound of Jerad’s amused cackle only made it worse.

“Man, I was only joshing you, you should’ve seen your face,” Jerad said in between fits of laughter, “I’m glad you’re not chickening out of tonight, though, it’s going to be dope! I’ll be sure to text you the deets!”

“Wait,” Virgil wheezed as Jerad started to walk off, “Are you going to give a ride to work today still?”

Perhaps it was the wrong thing to answer, especially a day like today where Jerad’s mood was unpredictable. But as much as Virgil hated riding in cars, it was the fastest way to work aside from taking public transportation. Something that costed money whereas Jerad had been nice lately to do it for free.

“Nah, not today. I have a headache I need to sleep off,” Jerad shrugged his shoulders, “Asides, you could use the exercise, you’ve slacking on leg day, dude—you should take up running or something.”

“Okay,” Virgil said, because what else could he say? He didn’t have a right to be angry because Jerad wasn’t under any obligation to give him a ride. He was lucky enough that Jerad didn’t chew him out for even suggesting the idea.

Like Jerad said, walking might actually be better. The clean air—well, as clean as city air could be—might be able to loosen up his congestion along with chugging down some cold medicine. Which he’d do as soon as his vision stopped spinning. Any moment now. Yeah, he was totally fine and not in any sort of way fucked.

Virgil’s fingers curled tightly against the doorframe. He could do this; this was nothing compared to the bedridden mess he dealt with in his senior year of high school. If he could stand relatively upright, he could be a reanimated corpse for capitalism. He just needed to chug down some cough medicine and he’d be fine.

The second alarm on his phone went off, reminding him if he wanted to make it to work on time, he better start moving.

-

As he downed his second protein shake for the day, Logan tried to keep his eyes off his phone. Studies have proven that people are susceptible to being distracted from work or other important tasks by their mobile devices. The lure of social media apps and mobile games caused a considerable drop in productivity and mental health. Neither of those were the cause for Logan—rather, it was the fifth time Patton attempted calling him. The fifth time that Logan pointedly ignored it, allowing it to go straight to voicemail.

There was no point in answering. He already knew why Patton was calling and he knew that the conversation would go nowhere.

Technically he wasn’t supposed to be at the library.

With every second he remained at his desk; his body only continually reminded him of this. An itchy, wrongness of his skin. An insatiable hunger demanding to be quelled. A fervent desire to be with pack, to protect and be protected by those he treasured most.

Normally, on a day like today, Logan would wake up with Patton’s arm slung across his torso and with Roman’s head leaning against his legs. Logan would huff at this but more of a feigned exasperation than anything else. The wolfish part of Logan was soothed at being in such close proximity. He knew better than to try to sneak off this particular time of the month; the one time he attempted the pain was unbearable. It reminded him of a cold concrete sidewalk, a piece of silver dug deep into flesh, howls that received no answers. Or well, it had seemed like no one would answer.

When he woke up this morning—no comfort could be sought at the mere sight of Roman and Patton resting peacefully at his side. Not when there was a wolf missing from the den, a packmate in need to be protected and kept safe. He could not rest until he saw to it that Virgil was okay. From what Remy informed him over the phone last night, Virgil was not okay. He was very far from being okay and Logan doubted he could make a difference today to make Virgil okay. Still, he had to make an effort, not only for Virgil but for Remy as well.

“You remember the promise, Logan?” Remy had asked, a crackle in his voice that Logan was certain had nothing to do with poor cell service.

“To never harm Virgil?” Logan asked, although it hardly needed clarification.

“Well, I am asking for an amendment on it—can you look after Virgil? Make sure he’s okay for me?”

“Of course, I can do that, but Remy I do think it’s best if you try and reach out to Virgil and clear up the misunderstanding that transpired—”

“Gurl, you don’t think I want to do that?” Remy interrupted, “you don’t think I didn’t want to chase after him?”

“I didn’t say anything of the sort, Remy—”

“He’s scared, Logan, and he has a damn right to be scared. I can’t—I can’t—he needs someone he can trust, and that I’ve tried to be that person, but I’ve already fucked it up twice. You didn’t see his face, tonight—he’s not going to hear me out Logan.”

“Okay,” Logan said, exhaling slowly, “then what would you like for me to do?”

“I’ll take a leave of absence, fire me if you have to—I’m broke, but I’m not broke enough that I can’t survive a bit without a job. And let Virgil know that—he needs to know the library is still safe, got it?”

“I can do that, yes.”

“And one last thing, Logan?”

“Yes?”

“If you find out who’s been hurting Virgil, you better let me know because I want in on that blood hunt. I’ll kick your ass if you don’t.” Remy said before abruptly hanging up.

So, Logan needed to ensure Virgil knew he was safe. He needed to find a way to show Virgil he could trust Logan and the others. He needed to see to it that Virgil was safe and secure with the rest of the pack. He couldn’t break Virgil’s trust.

The wolf wanted to simply snatch Virgil and tuck him a pile of blankets and pillows to be done with it. Like Logan, it didn’t like complicated emotions. However, the wolf also knew one thing was certain and it was that pack didn’t betray pack’s trust.

Such an act was akin to suicidal in werewolves’ minds. It was known that werewolves were naturally aversive to such notions, to the point of feeling physical pain over it. From an evolutionary point of view, it made sense. There was safety in numbers, and it made sense for werewolves to develop an instinctual need to stay together.

Thus, the reason Logan was at work today. Of course, this accounted that Virgil would still be showing up to work. Last night’s incident could’ve scared Virgil enough to completely cut off all ties from Remy and the pack.

A quiet whine escaped Logan at the thought of this. He clasped a hand around his mouth, his whole body shuddering involuntarily. Oh, how he hated how irrational he became during this time of the month. It interfered with his ability to think clearly and logically in a situation. Something he needed if he was going to be able to help Virgil.

He’d already tried being subtle and indirect with his support. Due to Virgil being a closed-off, cautious individual who exhibited symptoms of anxiety, he thought that would be the best approach. As he had explained to Patton, if someone was hurting Virgil in some way—being direct could scare Virgil off.

But perhaps a new approach should be considered. Maybe, he needed to find a way to be more open with his concern while also not alienating Virgil. Something easier to ponder than to actually achieve.

Along with Virgil’s skittishness, Logan was self-admittedly deficient in the emotions department. Theoretically he understood them, but gods knew how many times he blundered a social situation through his ignorance of their applicable use.

Virgil was also human, and Logan knew all too well how humans could be stubborn and prone to clinging to self-denial to the point of harming themselves in the process.

“Virgil, these past few weeks, I’ve been respectful and hoped you’d speak of your own volition, but there’s something I must address—no, no,” Logan muttered, running a hand through his hair. Too formal, too wordy, too criticizing.

“Virgil, I’ve been concerned—”

“—you’ve been withdrawing more and more—”

“Can you please inform me of what is troubling you so I may help—”

Knock, knock, knock . Logan straightened his posture, hands drifting towards pen and paper.  Just as he was about to say, “Come in” the door creaked open.

He knew who the person was before they stepped in. It was one of the more fascinating aspects of becoming a werewolf—smell became almost like a second-vision. It’d been overwhelming at first to adjust to it, but Logan struggled now to remember life before his senses became heightened.

The scent of home, of half-burnt cookies and a promise unbroken, hit his nostrils. Half of him wanted to rush to his feet for an embrace. The other half wanted to cower with his head lowered. Most of all, his skin itched. He— it wanted out.

“Logan,” Patton said, closing the door behind him. He didn’t take a step closer, his arms folded across his chest. He didn’t need to say it in words; Logan could sense the disapproval drifting off him in waves.

“Patton, I am fine,” Logan said, a growl rising low in his throat, “You know I can control myself and there are things I need to attend to—”

An electrifying jolt of pain struck him. Logan wheezed, his pen falling with a clatter from his trembling hands. His skin was too itchy, too clammy, too tight against his body.

Warm hands cupped his face. Logan whined, leaning into the touch, and letting it ground himself.

“Logan,” Patton whispered, apparently giving way to pity, “it’s not a matter of control, you know this.”

‘It’s a matter of balance.’ Logan thought, knowing all too well the song and dance.

Logan gripped the sides of his desk, forcing himself away from Patton. “It’s—I’m fine, Patton, just a momentary lapse. I need to be here.”

Patton tilted his head, frowning. “For Virgil?” He guessed softly.

“Yes, I couldn’t—I just need to ensure he is alright and—and convince him to adhere to reason—”

“What if you can’t? What if he refuses to listen?”

“He will listen,” Logan insisted, despite not quite fully believing his own words.

Patton stared at him, his face so carefully void of any expression. Logan fidgeted, unnerved by the other’s behavior. If Patton didn’t verbally express it, his emotions were always evident on his face. After decades by his side, Logan knew how to read the slightest wrinkle in Patton’s brow. But this? Logan didn’t know what to make of it.

“It hurts.”

“What?”

“Virgil,” Patton clarified with a smile that reached nowhere near his eyes, “I know it hurts to be separated from those your instincts insist are pack. But you can’t force someone to be pack—it doesn’t work that way. Even if feels like agony without that person by your side.”

“Patton, you—I—” Logan choked out, his throat inadvertently tightening up on him. Patton dipped his head, a silent acknowledgement of Logan’s unspoken words. He opened his mouth to respond, but whatever he was about to say was stolen by the slow, hesitant knock on Logan’s office door.

“Yes, what is it?” Logan asked, the words tight and terse.

“Logan, it’s me, Virgil. There’s a, uh, package from FedEx addressed to you.”

He looked at Patton. Who, despite his words merely moments before, looked ready to knock down the door and smother Virgil in a fierce embrace. Unlike Logan, Patton hadn’t seen Virgil in nearly two weeks. The two only exchanged the briefest of greetings before Virgil hurried away with an excuse of some sort. Logan suppressed a grimace; at least he regularly saw Virgil. He couldn’t fathom Patton’s own pain at being abruptly cut off without warning.

Logan nodded to Patton, waving a hand towards the door. A glimpse of a grin slipped onto Patton’s face before he bounded over. Logan rose from his chair to follow after him, his heart pounding too quick for his liking. Would Virgil be more prone to listen to his concerns with Patton present or would he feel cornered and flee as soon as he could? Should he wait for a more ideal time?

Patton swung open the door and all of Logan’s racing thoughts screeched to a halt .

Virgil stood there, engulfed in that black plaid hoodie he always wore. The one with the raggedy hem and the drawstrings reduced to threads. This was normal. What wasn’t normal was the way he leaned on the doorframe, his skin a blanched pallor.  Virgil swayed a bit as his fingers clung tightly to a small FedEx package.

He blinked, bewilderment seizing his face as if he’d forgotten why he came to Logan’s office. He looked up from the package in his hands until he slowly met Patton’s gaze. He squinted at him, his mouth slightly ajar.

“Virgil?” Patton asked.

“Logan,” Virgil said, looking right at Patton, “Why-whyyou—why are you wearing one of Pat’s hoodies?”

Confusion. Dizziness. Slurred speech. He knew Virgil would be emotionally unwell from last night’s events. Logan didn’t think he’d also be physically unwell. None of the words Logan had prepared to say seemed to matter now.

Patton spluttered, glancing in Logan’s direction with a pinched crease in his brow.

“Virgil,” Patton began.

But he’d no sooner said that when Virgil proceeded to plummet rapidly towards the floor, the package slipping out from his unconscious fingers.

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #kat writes

[rottendecomp]

When I need to focus at work I say to myself "I'm going to become the American Psycho" and then I put on Hip to Be Square and think about Jerad Leto getting his head cleaved in twain while I do my tasks

#it works and i am so serious #mantis mentality but Patrick Bateman in that One Scene

[remembertheplunge]

I’m in San Fransisco at Poeisa’s Coffee House on 18th Street . I’m here to do a blog:

In a dream last night (2/24/2023) a man in his 50’s ( he was white but I didn’t recognize him from waking life) told me and I think one or two others that no one had written about the Covid Pandemic, but he had. He was standing near a book shelf. There were maybe 5 books standing up on a shelf together. He began to arrange them, and, in doing so, he sent a message that they were precious. End of the dream

I, too, wrote about the Pandemic. Following is an example:

4/28/2020 Wednesday 6:09pm

National Public Radio is on. “More than 58,000 people have died in the US (from Covid) More people than the number of Americans who died in Viet Nam. Dr. Fauci says there will be an inevitable return of he virus in he Fall. Or, it will never go away.

4/29/2020 Wednesday 8pm

5 to 10 million Covid tests per day. US cumulatively 5 million—so far. The model is China—-Brutal but, they did it. Here, no plan. Not well planned out. /Donald McNeal Jr. New York Times Science and Health reporter. People going to work. Donald McNeal. “The hammer and the dance.” /Dr. Fauci “The virus will tell us.” Not clear if infected you are immune. /Green, yellow, red lights app in China. Green means you can stay out. /Immune elites. Can fly. Go to parties. /Governor’s stay at home order still in place. You are welcome here once it’s lifted. /One to One and one half years to the Pandemic’s end is optimistic. “We don’t have a cure for this disease.” Achieve herd immunity through death. /First time in New York Times: Pandemic 2/2/2020 by Donald Mc Neil. /A Trump Admin. Lie. //“This is like going through a war.” “All in this together.” Equalizing chain of events. “People will value life more. Feel lucky they got through this. “Maybe a better country coming out of this.” ///My response to above; Ahhhhhhhh! Holy Fuck! ////End of entry.

Notes: Dr Anthony Fauci was the head of the US National institute of infectious diseases. /// I Loved Mr. Mc Neal’s Hammer and Dance theory of how American society would behave during the Pandemic. When things look like they are calming down Pandemic wise, people will leave their homes. Until the infection ///death rate spikes and the hammer is dropped. This concept of the hammer//dance helped me deal with early Pandemic life. It gave me a feel for the structures of the response we had to the virus ebb and flow. ///The future predicted then, that we would value life more and be a better country coming out of the Pandemic has come true. We emerge with the basic structure of American culture on trial. People formerly silent as to their bondage to Capitalism are standing up and being heard. Fascinating time to be alive. Monumental change in the last 3 years. ///The above entries are a bit chaotic, but, they catch the tension of the time. I quickly jotted down what I could from listening to NPR. I was waiting to hear anything that would give me some guidance on how to navigate the Pandemic tides. ///There was a one hour show on NPR that came on around noon. I think it was called the Daily Show. My law clerk Jerad and I would be having lunch when the Daily Show , which I called the horror show, came on. We would sit and eat and be terrified together. This was the NPR show I referred to above. //Regarding the elites flying and partying, some experts thought in April of 2020 that as people became immune to the virus, they could lead a normal life with others who were immune. Two classes of society would emerge. Those who could mingle and fly. And those frozen in lockdown. That prediction cast a chill overview the future. It was also pre the advent of Covid vaccines. ////:So, these entries are an example of how I used the journal as a companion through the tensions and the terrors of early pandemic life. Now, I can study our prediction and the predicament of April 2020 and fashion it as the precursor of rebellion and a fascinating life.

#4/28/2020 #journaling #writing #pandemic life

[redherringtime]

TMA: Ep 17, The Bone Turner’s Tale

Get comfortable because I have a lot of thoughts about this one (In fact I’m gonna put this behind a cut for length.)  I wouldn’t say that this one is my favorite of the episodes that I’ve heard overall, but it definitely has some moments that will rank in my favorites.  This was the first episode that I listened to and then immediately restarted and listened again.  I was tempted to listen a third time, too.  I’m going to try to go through it in order, as best I can remember.  

The introduction was delightful.  I have heard and read many people pontificate about the timelessness of the written word and the importance of language as a means of sharing ideas and whatnot but the subtle way that words were compared to a virus here was beautiful.  The idea of infecting another person with your thoughts as opposed to just sharing them seems... so relevant right now and certainly not just as it relates to this story.  Books as endless contamination points...

Listen, I want to make it clear that I love books and am certainly against censorship and all that, but it’s a notion that I find both fascinating and worthy of consideration.

Moving on.

My immediate thought when I started an episode that was about books and a library was that we were going to encounter another Jurgen Leitner book but the initial description of The Bone Turner’s Tale had me thinking that I was mistaken.  The descriptions of the books in Page Turner and the background information about Jurgen commissioning special copies of books had me thinking that all of his books would look very fancy and probably leather-bound and whatnot.  I was not expecting a battered paperback.  It makes me think of Jumanji and how the game will disguise itself as whatever it takes to get you to pick it up....

My father’s name is Michael and, as previously mentioned, I’ve seen a number of drawings of a character from TMA named Michael so, like Johns, I may be a little more prone to perk my ears up when I hear the name.  I am fairly certain, though I may be mistaken, that Michael Crew was the name of the kid who got struck by lightning in Page Turner.  Now he is the one who seemingly snuck the book into the library.  The lightning incident did not seem to have anything to do with the actual book in Page Turner other than the ... crap, what’s it called.... the Lichtenberg Figure (thank you smarty-pants Husband) but now the name has, I think, been mentioned in two episodes about Leitner books.  Interesting.

My ears also perked up when I heard the name Jerad but this does not seem to be related to Jerad Key (who I have since been informed is actually named Gerard Keay so what do I know XD)  

So the rat.  What struck me as very odd about the rat incident is that the person who gave the account mentioned that the rat’s head may have been at an odd angle but that his memory of the ‘incidents’ ran together.  Now other than the rat the only incidents he mentioned were Jared and Jared’s mother and it seems very odd to me that he would mix up any details about a rat with either of those.  It makes me wonder if he had other encounters that he didn’t mention?  Why wouldn’t he?  Very odd.

The little interjection with Jon and Elias!!  I believe that this is the first time we’ve had any interjection mid-recording and, other than Alone, this was the first time it really felt like a radio play rather than just a read out story.  It was a simple interaction but I felt like it deeply added to the whole of the podcast and I look forward to more interactions like it in the future.  

It also really emphasized to me again that Jon is clearly doing voices when he reads the reports.  The startled change from character voice to his normal speaking voice when Elias walked in made it clear that that’s not just a narration choice for the podcast but a recording choice by the character of Jon.  He does voices, he interjects a feeling of emotion, stress where appropriate, etc.  This is not the action of someone trying to create an impartial recording.  If this isn’t explained by the end of the podcast I am going to be very disappointed.

(My working theory, and mind you this is very rough, is that Jon was given the role of Archivist specifically because he has some sort of empathic abilities and that he may not even realize himself that he’s doing it.)

Maybe it’s just a result of working under too many bosses who were less interested in the employee welfare and more interested in pleasing the investors, but Elias gave me bad vibes.  He didn’t even say much but I just kind of went, “Oh, I know you and I don’t like you very much.”  That felt very deliberate and when I’m given such a seemingly deliberate first impression about a character I always eye it with suspicion.  

I found it interesting that Elias mentioned Martin.  It seemed off-hand but a writer wouldn’t throw that in for no reason.  My ‘something is going on with Martin’ suspicions have been further ticked.

I felt that the bleeding books didn’t really fit with the rest of the story.  There are certain times when listening to the podcast that there will be specific details that don’t mesh with the rest of the tale and almost seem as if they were put in just to add a bit more of a spooky factor or something.  I previously mentioned the apple in Burned Out.  I can’t think of any others off the top of my head, but the bleeding books struck me like that.  It seems to me that these evil books want to be picked up and read in order to spread their power.  The one from Page Turner (I’m not gonna try to remember and spell the Latin name lol) seemed to attract the gaze and he couldn’t stop flipping through.  The Bone Turner’s Tale almost seemed to entrance Jared.  Why on earth would you want to make yourself look suspicious and evil by making other books bleed??

Anyway.

The description of the thing that used to be Jerad was delightfully spooky by itself.  It reminded me of something but damned if I can figure out what.  But the idea of it being able to move its bones at will and of stealing bones from other people to expand itself.  Yeah, I loved that.  

The Post-Statement told me a lot more about The Magnus Institute than I had previously known.  I suppose I had conceptualized the Institute as a sort of... A mix of the Men in Black (from the movies) and Ghostbusters lol!  It was in my mind that the people came to them not just to have their experiences recorded but also to seek out help for what they were experiencing.  Jon mentioning Elias’s policy of ‘record and study, not interfere and contain’ was a surprise.  I wonder if that has always been the policy of the Institute and if it is, I wonder again why there does not seem to be more evidence of investigation being done on these accounts prior to them being sent to the Archives.  

Final thought is that I wonder how long it is between when Jon picks up a file and when he makes his recording?  He mentions that he had Martin try to look into the person who gave the account but Martin was sick when Jon made the recording.  Probably a very minor detail but something to think about regardless.

This all makes me wonder if I should read more horror.  I’ve never been able to watch horror movies because I can’t stand all the blood and whatnot and I have absolutely no interest in slasher anything but the monster concepts in this podcast are so fascinating to me.  Anyone have any recommendations for good books that don’t involve a ton of mindless killings for shock factor?  If it helps, I adore ghost stories.

One final note!  Thank you to the lovely people of my Discord server for helping me with the spelling of a few names.  I mentioned it there and I’ll mention again here that after I’ve noticed a name crop up a few times, I will ask for a spelling.  Please do not volunteer spellings to me because just your telling me that I’m spelling something wrong gives me a clue that it’s probably an important character and I’d rather discover that as I go.  Thank you!  And if you’d like to join the server and discuss TMA and my reactions (behind my back, I don’t go into the spoiler channels), you’d be very welcome!  The link is HERE

#the magnus archives #tma 017 #liveblog

[vampirate99]

I hope Jensen is prepared for the inevitable crash and burn of this 'prequel'. You know what that's call dear children? Karma, and it's going to be sweet.

Just think. All it took was one STUPID decision to make all corners of the fandom come together. It's crazy. Never thought I'd see it.

I used to be someone who didn't really care about what happens off the screen, it didn't really interest me what actors did in their free time, who they were married too, how many kid's they had.

Then I got into the Supernatural fandom, and suddenly I'm sucked into all the drama. I started off just reading fanfiction, looking at fan art, and of course watching the show. Then the next thing I know I'm reading about who's friends with who, who hates who, and everything in between.

I knew from the first episode that I liked Sam because I know what it's like to have an annoying older brother. I enjoyed their dynamic. I was like 'yes I can relate a little to these guys'. But as the years went on you could see how down hill the show was heading, and when it ended it's like everyone, except for Jared, lost their minds.

Then this spn-prequel bullshit happened, and it's like our usual drama program came to a grinding halt.

But all I'm trying to say is that even if jerad and Jensen made up in private, Jensen needs to grow some ball and apologize online/in public, and put this spin-off idea where it belongs. IN. THE. TRASH.

#anti spn-spin off #Jensen get your head out of your ass #he needs to truly apologize #it's OK for Jared to be mad for a while #let's get back to our regularly scheduled program

[echo-inthevoid]

49- the butcher's window

More meat?

The wife's name is Nikola?? Or is he pronouncing names weird again. (Idk the transcripts for 45-68 are missing from my drive file for some reason so I'd have to go dig up another version to find the spelling...)

Ooo maybe this is spooky delivery people? Although that category is probably the one I'm least sure of.

Is this Jerad or Gerard? 

Is this the Jerad from bone turner? 

...yep...

Weird teeth pit... 

Weird teeth pet? 

Teeth pet can have little a bone, as a treat?

Hmm, and Sasha's computer isn't working... Because she's supernatural? I wonder if there's any particular reason why tech doesn't work with supernatural stuff? And why the tapes do, is it something about computers specifically?

Tim XD

Harry goth is weird teeth pet?? Idk he was found where it used to be...

Ok notes on timing:

Elias started working at the institute 1991 and became the head in 1996

James Wright was the head before him from 73-death. Elias took over after he died... And then Gertrude (the only person who knew him before he became head) was murdered........  *squints suspiciously*

And he was super different before as well... Maybe the archives affected him weirdly? 

#tma #tma lb #tma liveblog #liveblogging #episode 49 #echos stuff

[cheapjerseyschinashopping-blog]

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[toboldlywrite]

Planet Profiles - 5 - Ornith

(middle picture is Grimm concept art by Jerad S. Marantz but it’s not too far from what I imagine the Ornithe look like)

Mood Song

The World

Overall, Ornith is a very Earth-like world. The sky is blue, the grass is (mostly) green, and there is an abundance of liquid water. It orbits its sol-like sun at a fairly Earth-like distance, with two moons. The climate ranges from tropical to temperate with nothing colder. It has one large continent and several smaller ones with one large, freshwater ocean surrounding them. In fact, there is no saltwater on Ornith.

The geography of Ornith consists of a lot of cliffs. Mountains and volcanoes all have sheer edges like steps instead of slopes. There are only a handful of beaches-- in most places the land suddenly drops into the sea. The volcanoes are all long dormant, but water from deep underground bubbles up from them instead. This means that Ornith is also covered in rivers and waterfalls. The tropical regions have even more, since they get considerably more rainfall.

Life

Ornith is home to a thriving population of plant life. Trees have evolved to grow vertically up cliff sides, and some types of grasses grow on top of the rivers (which can prove treacherous for any other living things passing through).    Like Earth flora, the plants photosynthesize and serve as the base of the food chain. But the trees are huge, with the smallest species rivaling Earth’s sequoias. In the tropics, there is only one species of carnivorous plant--the Kynn-- that feeds once every seventy years and lures pray in with vivid hallucinations. All plants have seeds that spread by being carried by either water or air-- assuming they aren’t eaten.

[[More]]

Most animals have the ability to either fly or glide-- useful in a world that doesn’t have a lot of flat surface area. There is a creature that looks a bit like what you would get if you enlarged a spider to the size of a squirrel, covered it with fur, gave it a crow’s head that had been spliced with said squirrel, added a few extra eyes, and flaps of skin between its ten legs that can expand to help it glide through the trees. They are called Niphete, or Nips for short. Some people keep them as pets. They eat seeds and fruit and small insects.

There is a primate-like creature with eight limbs (all with opposable thumbs) and two prehensile tails that swings and leaps from tree to tree and is known for its daring aerobatic feats as well as its luxurious green fur coat (ideal for blending in), which caused it to be hunted by the early mammalian humanoids. The einu were endangered for a long time, but made a quick recovery.

Grazers include a deer-like creature (a bit smaller than an Earth deer) with four tusks for digging into the ground/bark, and both sexes have a single horn instead of antlers. They have claws instead of hooves that allow them to cling onto trees and impeccable balance so they can climb up and down cliff sides akin to mountain goat (of course with all the trees and foliage growing up and down the cliffs a bare cliff face is rare). Their feathers are colored to perfectly blend into the forests in temperate regions and are extremely shy, though some people have domesticated them. Their wings once allowed them to fly, but have since shrunk to a size that makes gliding difficult-- though it can help soften their infrequent falls. They are called erth*.

Their predators are a fearsome feline-esque beast almost twice their size called the da’rys. Like a shark, they have rows upon rows of teeth that move in to replace any that fall out. Their claws are sharp enough to cut through the rock where they dig their dens. Their wings allow them to attack from above (though they can’t fly for long), and their prehensile tails allow them even greater maneuverability. They are covered in feathers and the ones on their tails change colors with their moods, especially during breeding season. During the rest of the year, they are extremely solitary, except for when raising their young. Da’rys mothers are considered examples of unconditional love to aspire to. They will sacrifice themselves for their young, and will protect them by any means necessary. They even care for the weak, sick, or runt of their litters and have been seen to apparently morn any that die. They also purr. But they are not kept as pets.

The rysitav look a lot like bipedal, feathered dinosaurs about the size of draft horses. They have extraordinary stamina, agility, balance, and speed. They can jump up onto tree branches without breaking stride and run along very narrow ledges. Their front claws also allow them to climb the trunks of trees and up rock for short distances. They are domesticated by the Ornithe and come in all sorts of colors (some mini breeds have even been created). Rysitav literally translates to “first friend.” Because, historically, that’s what they were. If you mix the roles of horses and dogs in human history, you’d have an idea of what the rysitav mean to the Ornithe. Modern families often still follow the tradition of having one for each family member-- one to grow up with each child.

In the water, there are creatures that resemble a penguin’s body with a fish’s head and the fins of a ray. They use their fins/wings not only to swim but to glide between different levels of their river homes, skipping the waterfalls.

The ocean is largely unexplored, because the Ornithe fear it and don’t really want to explore it. However the larger creatures on Ornithe makes their home there in the depths. And the largest air creature, called the kalbojer, spends its life flying out over sea. Like a giant seal with two pairs of massive, albatross wings instead of flippers. They mate, eat, sleep, and give birth all in the air.

The People

Long ago, there were two humanoid species on Ornith. One was avian, the other mammalian. Their history with each other was turbulent-- periods of peace interspersed with war with each other and among themselves. Until one day, a virus fell from the sky. It attacked both species, but not in the same way. Desperate to survive, no matter what, the two worked together until they figured out that by splicing their DNA in just the right way, they could create a hybrid race that was immune to the virus. It took huge and quick technological evolution and a few failed test attempts, but in the end, they were successful. What remained was one species of Ornithe, both avian and mammalian.

This hybrid race had features of both: they had many of the basic mammalian features along with feathers in place of hair and sprouting from their arms, and a pair of wings attached to their shoulders. Their bones had the light weight of their avian fore-bearers and the strength of their mammalian ones (plus some. Because if you’re already genetically engineering yourselves, might as well). Therefore, they do have the ability to fly (though the extent of that ability depends on fitness level). They have aquiline-shaped noses and very sharp eyesight that are especially sensitive to motion and different shades of color (even very close ones). Feather color varies widely, with tropical Ornithe typically having more colorful patterns.

Afterwards, there was a long period of peace in which the Ornithe made impressive advancements in technology, medicine, social issues, the arts-- everything, basically. They became part of a coalition of advanced worlds who swore to help each other and others in need. And for a time, it did just that. But then disaster struck. A chain of supernovae took out nearly every world in the coalition-- either destroying them completely, killing all life, or severely disabling them, which was the case with Ornith. It took quite a while for them to rebuild from the ashes,  and when they did, it was under the leadership of a religion that started out honorably and innocently but slowly became corrupt, holding the world and its people back from achieving the potential they had shown before. As they hoarded all the power to themselves, they turned against anyone who held different beliefs or deviated from what they considered to be normal and proper. They allow visitors from other worlds to land at only one port and only for minimal trade purposes. The Ornithe who interacted with them are supposed to undergo cleansing rituals regularly.

At first, the religion was focused only on worshiping their deity-- the living spirit of the world-- and honoring them by caring for the world and each other. But each new leader added on rules-- sometimes under the guise of protecting the world, sometimes to help the “unenlightened” find their way to the right path. Eventually, the parameters for what made someone “unenlightened,” and eventually “evil,” were expanded to include anyone who didn’t follow their rules. The Church also banned flight-- it’s considered a “gift” from the deity that shouldn’t be used until they are “worthy” of it. The punishment for flying as well as for other infractions is clipping wings (so they won’t be able to fly even if worthiness is achieved during their lifetimes, and they won’t be able to soar into the afterlife unless the deity takes pity and heals them-- which means confessing and repenting their evil ways). For some infractions, wings are removed entirely. That marks them as eternally unworthy. 

Particularly “evil” are the elios: those with the energy manipulation gene sequence. Those are persecuted worse than any other group, and paranoia is worse than that surrounding witch trials on Earth. Anyone so much as accused of being an elios is taken into custody and tortured until they are either satisfied that the accusation is untrue (and they are very hard to convince), or they decide they are and are sentenced. The only sentence is execution. By fire.

Some people still follow the original beliefs of the religion while others follow other belief systems-- including those “smuggled” in from other worlds. But they all have to be practiced underground.

Back in the days when they were part of the coalition, the Ornith lived in floating cities, built disguised into the clouds. But after the disaster, most cities fell and the technology was lost. Now, the Ornithe live in settlements on the ground and around the waterfalls. Some people live in colonies deep in the forests/jungles to escape persecution, but the Church is determined to hunt them down.

They’ve lived under the rule of the Church for a long time, but strife is reaching a breaking point. It can only be a matter of time before war breaks out again on Ornith.

Let me know if you have any questions!

*yes, I accidentally left the a out of Earth when I typed it above and it inspired me to name it after it. What of it?

@lady-redshield-writes @bluemartlet @kittensartsbooks @queerloveandspaceships @merigreenleaf @rosesonneptune @weaver-of-fantasies-and-fables @incandescent-creativity @starlitesymphony @picturemobilee @mezvii @jaimistoryteller @knight-clover @c-g-nyx-writes (lmk if you want on/off!)

#my writing #wip: star series #world-building #planet profiles

[rivevideopromotion]

Jerad Finck tries to find ‘Home’ again in beautiful new animated video giving us all the feels. @jeradfinck #imnotcryingyourecrying . . . Life hurls curveballs right at your head. The good. The bad. All of it flashes in sharp electrodes across your eyelids, and you’ll never be ready for it. You might see it coming, but that doesn’t matter. You possess little will against the inevitable. So, Spokane’s organic pop creator Jerad Finck stumbles through the slowly crumbling framework of a relationship, and it’s as if he’s been frozen in time, only allowed to witness the devastation and never to act upon it. With “Home,” a piano rooted to the ground, with the synthetics sprouting from each tickling ivory and grasping at the sky, he operates under a cloud of sorrow. “Don’t shut the door / You know I can’t be alone,” he sings, grim truths spilling from his tongue. Heart ripped from his chest, rib cage unhinged and gushing blood, Finck can only mourn the past as he coaxes himself to think hopeful bubble thoughts. But it’s fruitless. It’s over, and he knows it. . . . . . #JeradFinck #home #officialmusicvideo #spokane #electropop #sorrow #alone #mourning #animatedvideo #animation #newpopmusic #melancholymusicforthesoul #melancholy #hotnewmusic #newrelease #newvideo #newmusic #newmusicvideo #rive #videopromotion #videopromo #videodistribution #musicdistrubution #musicmarketing https://www.instagram.com/p/BxLRI2XlrfJ/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1r7a6pdovlg4h

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[i-will-physically-fight-you]

Head

Both Jerad and Virgil knew, it was better for Virgil to stop being a coward and just open the door. So, with legs like gelatin, Virgil headed towards the door. -Gibbous Chapter 10 WIP

#kat replies #werewolf au #did i include that first line to make the other line hurt more #yes

[doomedandstoned]

SEATTLE AFTER SUNDOWN

~Words & Photos by Chris Schanz~

Doomed & Stoned's chief contributor from the Emerald City gives us a decidedly Northwest perspective on the music scene and how it affected him in 2017. Here are the albums the ruled the night, mixed in among the Chris' unparalelled photographic vision. (Editor)

Bell Witch -- Mirror Reaper

Mirror Reaper by Bell Witch

Finding out that Adrian Guerra was the younger cousin of a schoolmate of mind and from my hometown after his death, not seeing them play live before his death, and discovering just how awesome they were may be a tragedy. Seeing Dylan Desmond come back with a stunning tribute and beautiful album this year made it

Year Of The Cobra -- Burn Your Dead

Burn Your Dead by Year of the Cobra

A wonderful couple, rewriting the power duo dynamic for our local heavy and doom scene. Killer album packaging, as well (I’m not just saying that because of the photos, either). A perfect sophomore album for the band and shows growth in the songwriting curve.

Substratum -- Substratum

Substratum by Substratum

While it’s an “official” debut LP, Substratum has been around awhile. Shredding metal riffs and searing, soaring vocals that rival Vengeance-era Judas Priest and Seattle’s own Sanctuary (RIP Warrel Dane). WATCH THESE ONES.

Chelsea Wolfe -- Hiss Spun

Hiss Spun by CHELSEA WOLFE

I’ve been a rabid fan since Apokalypsis. I finally got to see her up close at the Showbox. The things I had to endure to get there (drunken Amazon bro’s and all) made my effort all the more worthwhile to hear these songs performed live.

Heiress/Great Falls -- Split 7”

Split 7" w/Great Falls by heiress

Two of my favorite and heaviest acts in one 7”, part of a three 7” package on Mylene Sheath Records that utilizes the artwork by Demian Johnson from Great Falls beautifully. Very collectible!

Terrasone -- Reclaim

Take Off by Terrasone

Sadly, this album was released posthumously, as the lineup refocused on other projects (Infinite Flux and The Deaddrones). I regret not being able to see my good friends perform live, even though there were ample opportunities! Long live Terrasone!

Crystal Fairy -- Crystal Fairy

Crystal Fairy by Crystal Fairy

If the Melvins produce an album in any flavor – it makes my list!! Gifted on vinyl to me on my birthday by my brother and sister-in-law, all Melvins projects carry my favorite musical memories of our band together.

Kings of Cavalier -- Sacred Fruit

Reid’s Viking vocals rage and Ian’s guitar work shines on this recording by Jack Endino at Soundhouse. A proud addition to the Seattle heavy scene family, and I’m proud to call them friends! And that album art? Classy!

Old Iron -- Lupus Metallorum

Lupus Metallorum (see album description for vinyl) by Old Iron

I saw Jerad Shealey play bass with Heiress when I was introduced to them a few years back -- just missing his set with Old Iron. It’s in my New Year resolutions to see more shows and not miss my friends’ performances. Great album and tour!

Brett Netson and SNAKES -- Snakes/Crosss

SNAKES/CROSSS by Brett Netson and SNAKES

More name dropping, please. I split a 7” with Caustic Resin in 1994 -- so vague, so early in their game that it only exists on cassette anymore. Caustic Resin were early Pacific Northwest stoner-desert rock pioneers. Brett continued his journey touring with Built to Spill and the Mark Lanegan Band. Snakes/Crosses is a long, dark road through the desert at midnight, passing through the badlands in a thunderstorm. A journey worthy of Doomed & Stoned...and once again, not just because I took some bitchin’ photos at their last Seattle gig.

PALOOKA -- Turbo Excelente

Once again, it’s NOT just because it took a year to produce the photography, cover art, typography and marketing collateral – it’s because PALOOKA ROCKS! Technically not doom or stoner, but essential listening for the local heavy listening buff. Consisting of Seattle rock royalty (NW Metalfest, anyone?), PALOOKA’s sophomore album is a London Bridge Studio masterpiece evoking Mother Love Bone, Alice Cooper and that BIG, THICK ROCK guitar mastery lost since 1977.

Twelve Thirty Dreamtime -- Dreamsongs

Dreamsongs 1997-1999 by Twelve Thirty Dreamtime

We near the end of my list with a look ahead at 2018. Devil’s Child Records does it again, releasing the 1997 project by Mos Generator’s Tony Reed on a beautiful smoked vinyl (available in February).

There's more of Chris Schanz's work to be amazed by. Head on over to his site and you'll get lost for hours. He's also covered quite a few Doomed & Stoned events for us, including this year's High Summer Fest. Check all his published work to date in these pages right here.

#D&S Reviews #HeavyBest17 #Chris Schanz #Seattle #Washington #Photography #Bell Witch #Year of the Cobra #Substratum #Chelsea Wolfe #heiress #Great Falls #Terrasone #Crystal Fairy #Kings of Cavalier #Old Iron #Brett Netson and SNAKES #palookaville #Twelve Thirty Dreamtime #Tony Reid #Doomed & Stoned

[movieweb]

Thanos and His Outriders Had a Gruesome Scene in Avengers: Endgame That Was Cut

VFX artist Jerad S. Merantz shares a cut scene in Avengers: Endgame which included removing enemy heads to farm information from their brains.

https://movieweb.com/avengers-endgame-thanos-outriders-cut-scene-script/

#Avengers 4 #Avengers: Endgame #Avengers #The Avengers

[thestillofwinter]

So my wifey @chillmaster3000 tagged me in this fun ask game and I’ve taken twelve years to get to it, buuut here goes (If you’re curious about any of it, send me an ask)

1) How many works in progress do you have? Uhm probably like 3 or 4, one's a BDSM-centered fic involving three women, two of whom are detective girlfriends and one of whom's immortal. You can check it out on my AO3, my username/penname thingy's dream-vs-nightmare. I'm alsooo working on one in my head that's sorttt of like a queer retelling of W.I.T.C.H. with college-aged girls bc I just need that in my life right now, ya feel? I was highkey the Gayest™ for those comics and that show in middle school, like don't evennn get me started.

2) Do you/would you write fanfiction? Uhh buddy that is like all I write. That and blog posts read by maybe four people 😂

3) Do you prefer paper books or ebooks? Ebooks because I feel better about it environmentally, like as much as I fucking love printed books, I just feel so guilty about reading them in terms of the amount of trees used to make the books.

4) When did you start writing? The middle school years, about a vampire named Jerad, his twin brother who I can't remember the name of, and his girlfriend Alexandria. Alex was super cool and should highkey get a Gay™ spin off.

5) Do you have someone you trust that you share your work with? Yess, my boyfriend gets to hear about alll da plot bunnies for my fanfics and we talk logics - like, does it work? How does this character meet that one? Okay, but should the fic start at the end of episode 3, or in the middle of episode 4 bC I DON'T KNOW ANYMORE!!

Ya, I trust him with all that shit.

6) Where is your favorite place to write? In my bed, yo. It requires little movement aside from typing and shifting to grab a drink off my nightstand. And there's little interaction with people aside from those I have virtual connections with on the interwebs, so yeyy, less noise.

7) Favorite childhood book? Uhm uhm uhm tbh I have so many but the ones my mam read to me and my brother as kids were the best, left us all either super happy or in tears laughing (Camilla Cappybarra tho, like forreal)

8) Writing for fun or publication? Funsiesss. I'm not really at a place mentally or emotionally to have my work published because Depression and all that, but I'd highkey love to someday.

9) Pen and paper or computer? Computerr. Putting pen to paper takes more physical energy and motivation than I have most days, and I'd just rather write digitally as it's more easily edit-able (is that a word? I don't think so but oh well) and less environmentally destructive.

10) Have you ever taken any writing classes? So many. Hella helpful, just got repetitive after a few years.

11) What inspires you to write? All the things?? Like tbh, what doesn't inspire me to write?

[cubscribbles]

U of D Alum Named Michigan State Hockey Captain

Henry Mansky ‘20

Tommy Apap, Michigan State Hockey player and U of D Alum, was named a 2019-2020 captain for the Michigan State hockey team. Tommy graduated from U of D in 2014 and played hockey for the team as well was named a captain his senior year. During his four years at the High Tommy developed greatly as a hockey player being placed on the Varsity squad early on in his career. From High School Tommy went on to play Junior A hockey in the North American Hockey League (NAHL) for one year and the United States Hockey League (USHL) for three years. While in the NAHL Tommy played for the Wichita Falls Wildcats and in the USHL played for the Fargo Force and Youngstown Phantoms. Tommy was then picked up by Michigan State and became well acquainted very quickly. Within two years Tommy was playing very well and had one of the highest face-off percentages in the league, not to mention that he was named an Assistant Captain in his sophomore year. This year Tommy will be a co-captain with Sam Saliba and will have two assistant captains, Jerad Rosburg and Patrick Khodorenko. Head coach Danton is very thrilled with the captains for this upcoming year, as he says “The leadership for next year’s team is a true reflection of the work these four young men have put forth both on and off the ice. It is great to see the players vote and elect such a selfless group of leaders.” Coach feels that “all four of these student-athletes have grown in their roles during their time here and will help us to continue to build our Spartan Hockey culture.” Michigan States’s first game is on October 7 at Munn Ice Arena. The Spartans take on the Western Ontario Mustangs and the puck drops at 7 P.M.

[ellalynnmonroe]

VanCon 2017, my second convention is under my belt. Now that I’ve finished my finals for school, I can fully recap the events of the weekend and appreciate them completely. If there are any typos, I apologize now. My brain hurts from taking said finals. Hah.. oh, and uh. I haven’t entered in those fancy ass cues to seperate paragraphs since I was on Live Journal… like 15 years ago. So.. sorry for the continuous paragraph. 😂 The weekend began with this sweet gal (@winchestersnco) arriving at my door step. This woman was my right hand woman and savior this weekend. She was so incredibly helpful, patient, and loving when it came to my two month old daughter.. who’s name happens to be Amara. **Long backstory short.. my bf and I loved the name and the uniqueness. The fact it’s a character from our favorite only had a small part it.. as is the fact she was created at VanCon 2016…. #porncouver 😂** The drive to Vancouver started out great. Amara slept for the first third of the drive. And then hated us the rest of the drive. Though it was rather exhausting, me feeding her in her carseat is a memory neither Erin or I will forget, I’m sure. Needless to say, Amara had worn herself out so much, she only woke to eat and slept nine hours that night. Friday! The show started later than I remember it starting last year. The energy was also different. Maybe I got spoiled with Kim and Brianna. Rich is a neat dude and all, but those girls really set the bar high. Lol. The panels were fun. The first and only time Amara made a sound during a panel was during Samantha Smith’s. Of course I get called out and stand up to show her I actually have a baby. Jason Manns was added to the guest list at the last minute and I was so thrilled! Amara slept so soundly through his panel; she loves her music! Our autographs for the day included Sam Smith, Emily Swallow, and Brianna Buckmaster. Sam was apparently upset I didn’t actually walk Amara up to her during her panel. Lol, oops. She was in awe by the eye contact my tiny can make. She said “You are not new”. She said Amara is “an old soul”. A mother generally thinks their kid is the best, but hearing how alert and aware your two month old actually is, kinda makes your heart swell. 😍 Emily… ah, how do I put this nicely?.. I’m not a fan. She’s a bit… snatchy. Guess I can’t put that nicely. For those who don’t know, Emily plays the character, Amara on SPN. Coming into this auto, I thought even if this lady thinks I’m a total dweeb and I named my daughter after a SPN character because I’m incredibly obsessed, she would pretend to be amused. Nope. She was so blandly like, “Oh… cooool”. And then proceeded to take this stuffed doll someone made her and wave it in front of her face. I was hardly impressed. Brianna is probably one of my favorite human beings. I walk up and immediately she says “I kinda wanna hold that baby”. I told her she could, but she insisted on keeping the baby comfy. She was pretty entertained by the origin of her name; she said the last reason was the best reason. I just want to be her bff. She’s pretty damn rad. Karaoke…. well. We showed up late so all the guests were already tossed. ESPECIALLY my favorite person if the day. You guessed it. Emily Swallow. One of my roomies of the weekend stayed with me for a bit; Amara slept the whole time. It was the freakin’ Emily Swallow show. She sang over EVERYONE that sang a song. And by sang, I mean yelled with a vibrato. Not. Impressed. Saturday!! I really wanted to watch the first panel, but sleep took over and I slept too late. I love sleep, so I wasn’t to hard on myself. Hah. Mark Sheppard’s panel was entertaining, as usual. He’s so sassy. I attempted to ask him what activities he likes to do with his kids, now that he has some free time. Before I even asked my question, he looked at Amara and said, “That’s not my baby”. Hahaha. After me asking my question and him not answering, I tried to repeat my question and he called me bossy and continued to avoid my question. 😂 there’s a video or two of the ordeal running around out there that I need to acquire. I was pretty bummed he didn’t walked around the audience like he usually does. Idk who did what to him to make him pissed off, but they should be slapped. Misha Collins’ panel was absurd. I laughed so much, I can’t remember too many specifics. The moment I’ll never forget; however, is him asking how to sign “take a dump” in American Sign Language. I died. Matt Cohen, Rob Benedict, and Richard Speight Jr had the last panel. Amara had started to get a little wiggly, so I was in and out for that one. Rachel Miner’s panel… I am too hormonal for that shit. The guys carried her out to the stage and the audience gave her a standing ovation. I wept. She is one inspiration gal. We had a photo op with Brianna and autos with Matt and Mark that day. Our photo with Briana was all thanks to Erin.. Seriously. This girl is the effing best. I can’t brag enough about her. Anyway, back to Briana. When we walked up, I said to her, “You can hold this baby now!”. She did not argue one bit. Chris about died when he say her homemade ‘Wayward AF’ bandana-turned-bandaeu. Mark signed a book my friend gave to Amara, “If I Were a Moose”. Mark’s response? “If I were a moose, I’d kill myself”. Lol. Jesus Christ, Mark. 😂 Matt was cute and sweet as always. Nothing particularly memorable was said. But I do want you all to know that man is getting some of those silver highlights in his hair… Hey. Girl. Hey. Rachel was just as sweet as she was in her panel. She’s is a fighter. I could only hope to be the bad ass this woman is! I had the chance to chat with Jason Manns for a minute. He picked out which album of his Amara would like best. He was so sweet, and I’m so glad he was there. Louden Swain performed a couple acoustic songs in the lobby before signing autos for those that bought some merch. They had they’re SNS album available, so obvioisly I purchased it. Lol they too, were so nice. The talent these men posses is unreal. SATURDAY NIGHT SPECIAL. What’s there to say, that hasn’t already been said. The SNS never disappoints. Louden Swain is PHENOMENAL. Emily was annoying and Brianna nailed it. Oh yeah. And Jensen made an appearance and knocked everyone’s socks off.. or should I say panties? 😉 Fucking SUNDAY, BITCHES. J2 day. This is the day that everyone is anxiously awaiting. The panel was obviously hilarious and fun. These boys NEVER disappoint. There were too many funny moments to explain, but my fav? The endless butt jokes. YouTube the panel if you wanna get in on the jokes. Amara and I had a photo with Jensen and then I have one by myself with Jensen. As soon as I walk up to him and he sees Amara, his mouth drops. I asked, “Would you mind holding her for a photo?” He obviously did not object. Who can resist a tiny baby in a shirt that says ‘World’s cutest Supernatural fan" and a little black tutu with a SPN themed bow on the front of it?? Chris died, once again, after coming on close to check out her outfit. Bless that man! He took three quick shots and printed each of them for me to ensure we got a good one. And then I hand the tiny off and tell Jensen I have one with just myself and he proceeds to give me the best hug, Chris takes the pic, and Jensen gives me a tight squeeze. I tell him thank you, and he says something along the lines of “Congrats, mom”….. and I died. Hahaha. When I go to grab Amara, the head dudes in charge are fawning over her. I’d say her outfit was a success. Coming down the escalator, Gil McKinney came over to take to Amara. This man had been eyeballin’ her all weekend. It was pretty cute and sweet how he approached us. Jason also came over to see her Sunday outfit. I’m telling you, these guys are rad AF. Our autos were at the end of the day, and Amara was getting tired. Thankfully she stayed awake long enough for the two boys to see her. We get up to Jensen and he’s still all about her. He asks her name, and I tell him and the story to go with it. You can tell he’s kinda listening. For comedic value, I decided to say to him, “she’s out souvenir from last year” and the look on his face was priceless. It took a split second for him to register it, but once he did, he chuckled a bit. I thought Jerad was going to steal her. As soon as I walked up, he said “Look at the knees! And those thighs!” He was amazed by how strong she is and couldn’t believe she was only two months old. Now.. this is suppose to be the time I say, “That was that and we went home”……. But no. It. Gets. Better. So Erin and I had stood in line with our weekend roomies. They were toward the end, with maybe a dozen people behind them. Once they went behind the curtain, and Amara was sound asleep in her shoulder, she began walking back to our seats. I told her to slow her roll. I’m thinking, maybe if we linger long enough and stealth enough, some magic will happen…. AND DID IT EVER. Jensen comes out and waves to everyone, waves at Erin and I.. but does a double take when he sees this sleeping ball of chunk on Erin’s shoulder… he then RUNS OVER TO AMARA, PINCHES AT HER SWEET CHUBBY CHEEKS.. AND THEN.. GIVES HER A KISS ON HER CHEEK. JENSEN KISSED MY BABY. I vowed to never wash her again; however she had gotten herself so worked up on the ride home, she projectile vomited ALL OVER ME. It was a wonderful weekend, not too hectic, filled with such wonderful memories that I can’t wait to share with Amara when she’s older. 99% (lol) of the guests were so sweet and supportive of me bringing my tiny. The fans all loved her. I only had a few people harass me about ear protection, of which I brought, one lady get salty about being next to a baby before she had a chance to show her what an angel of a baby she is, and one person suggest I breastfeed in the bathroom after I asked where would he a good spot to sit and feed her. Other than that, everyone was great, I had a great time, and I miss all my ladies!

#supernatural #jensen ackles #jared padalecki #vancon #mark sheppard #brianna buckmaster #misha collins #matt cohen #samantha smith #jason manns #louden swain