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dustedmagazine · 2 years ago

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Dust Volume Nine, Number Seven

Chuck Johnson

Is it hot where you are? Has it been raining a lot? Is there smoke in the air? It's been the weirdest, most disturbing summer, and you might think it would make music irrelevant. But no, this is Dusted, and we continue to listen and judge and write about records even at the end of times. So here's another Dust. Enjoy. We hope there will be one next month, too, but let's see what happens, eh?

Contributors include Jennifer Kelly, Bryon Hayes, Jonathan Shaw, Chris Liberato, Ian Mathers, Patrick Masterson, Jonathan Shaw, Andrew Forell and Tim Clarke.

Omar Ahmad — Inheritance (AKP)

Inheritance by Omar Ahmad

Omar Ahmad’s music follows dance pulses through thickets of memory. A glitchy beat sinks into slippery textures of synthesizer, piano, strings and field recordings; the music moves but in a haze of memory, as the sounds of women, children and running water flashes and subsides. Omar Ahmad is a Palestinian-American electronic artist and DJ currently based in Brooklyn and in this first full-length, he explores identity (ethnic and otherwise) through a scrim of memory. These glowing ambient compositions don’t hammer the point home—rather they gently suggest and evoke a dual western/Arabic identity. The baby in “Gesso” says “Daddy” in English but is answered in another language. The cut “usra” whose name translates as “home” or “family” incorporates a ululating non-western vocal alongside the pristine electronic modernity of synths. “Sham Oasis” has, perhaps, the most concentrated array of Middle Eastern sounds, a jangle of not-guitars, the thud of hand drums, a shaker, but it also twitches and glitters with space-age electronic sounds. The songs have lovely, idealized, luminous textures that don’t belong, exactly, to any single culture, yet they are warm and beautiful enough to make it feel like home anyway.

Jennifer Kelly

Animal Piss It’s Everywhere — S-T (Half a Million)

Animal Piss, It's Everywhere by Animal Piss, It's Everywhere

This loose and goofy country ramble obsesses over Jesus and intoxicants, sometimes but not always in the same songs. Indeed these bleary sing-alongs seem best suited for Sunday morning with the sun streaming in on the tail end of a one- or two-day bender. They’re exhausted but full of good feeling, played on muscle memory and love of the game. “Jesus Got Under My Skin,” for instance, ramps up the roadhouse boogie in a stunned and stoned narrative about finding one’s savior—and then trying to ditch him. “Naked” slouches and twangs in a righteous chorus of “Naked…ass…man…blues.” There’s considerable talent on hand, however casually it is deployed, from a confederation of Western Mass freak folk regulars. A guitar-heavy line-up features Anthony Pasquarosa, Clark Griffin (Weeping Bong Band, Pigeons), Shannon Ketch (Bunwinkies) and Andy Goulet on pedal steel (Winter Pills, Lonesome Brothers etc.). Rob Smith from Rhyton and Mouth Painter plays drums and Jim Bliss (of various Matt Valentine projects) sits in on bass. “I’ve found sucksess, sucking at success,” croons the singer, making a point; this band of miscreants achieve their aims without coming within a hundred miles of commercial palatability.

Jennifer Kelly

Aunty Rayzor — “Nina” (Nyege Nyege Tapes)

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Perhaps the hardest song I heard over the last month opens with an almost demented pogoing and a video staring straight at the sun with an airplane’s corpse and a silhouette on the wing fixing her hair before she struts into your life and all over your ears. If you don’t already know Bisola Olungbenga aka Aunty Rayzor, Nyege Nyege Tapes has done a fine job ensuring you’ll want to hear everything the Nigerian has to say after one listen through of “Nina,” the lead single from September’s Viral Wreckage. Veering between red hair and blonde amid rusty MiG-21s, Rayzor takes the hard-nosed rhythm from Berlin-based beatmaker Debmaster — just listen to the way that kick rumbles on the low end — and matches it step for step to powerful effect. You don’t need Nyege Nyege’s effusive description of the forthcoming full-length to gather we have another formidable female rapper waiting in — or is it on? — the wings to embarrass the boys and prolong women’s global chokehold on the genre that little bit longer. Only a fool or an incel could complain.

Patrick Masterson

Aware — Requiem for a Dying Animal (Glacial Movements)

Requiem For A Dying Animal by AWARE

Alexander Glück, who records as Aware, specializes in producing a haunting tributary of ambient sound that aims to cause unease. His music is ghostly, chilling, and morose. It evokes loneliness yet, like most good stories, contains a faint trickle of hope. His compositions encompass vast swathes of tone peppered with microscopic flecks. These resemble large chunks of metamorphic rock that Glück has fused into rich, veiny patterns. These polychromatic constructions tell stories of isolationism and hardship interspersed with hopefulness and joy. They reflect our species’ interconnectedness with a natural world that simultaneously seeks to nurture and destroy us, as we in turn seek to exploit its bounties. With his music, Glück seeks to find an equilibrium, a stalemate between us and our environment. He will likely never solve this riddle, but Requiem for a Dying Animal is a fruitful step on the journey toward his goal.

Bryon Hayes

Blight House — Blight the Way (Syrup Moose Records)

Blight the Way by Blight House

Blight House makes the kind of death metal-infused grindcore that aims for utter absurdity: absurdly heavy riffing; absurdly fast drum-machine blips, blats and thumps; absurdist, so-stupid-they’re clever semiotics. It’s hard not to laugh (or at least ruefully chuckle) at the puns in the band’s name and in the title of this new record. Song titles are even dumber and sometimes even more funny: “Dismembers Only,” “Bible Belt Baby Buffet,” “Walpurgis Date-Night.” And so on. But as is generally the case with records like this, it’s hard to know where the joke ends and the band begins. If it’s all done for laughs, then why is the music executed with such apparent seriousness (n.b., for a less overworked version of a grindy gag act, see this)? And if we’re supposed to hear at least some of Blight House’s stuff with a dash of gravid sincerity, then please, band, send instructions on how to pull off that bit of cognitive jiu-jitsu. Or on second thought, maybe don’t. It’s probably better for everyone involved if we just accept the low-brow yucks to be found in songs like “Acephalophilia III: Hopelessly Headless for You” for what they are, and take the tune at its word. If you think about this sort of edge-lord-adjacent, meme-driven cultural production too hard, you may end up in the writers’ room for Ron DeSantis’s next campaign commercial. Headless and heedless, thoughtless and feckless—blight the way into our collective, idiotic future, dudes.

Jonathan Shaw

Buffalo Nichols — The Fatalist (Fat Possum)

The Fatalist by Buffalo Nichols

Buffalo Nichols’ Carl Nichols has a fine gravelly voice, an unfussy skill with the pick and the slide and the swagger that turns songs of suffering into songs of defiance. In other words, he’s a bluesman of the first order and unusual, these days, in that he’s not 100 years old or a suburban white guy. Yes, Buffalo Nichols is on a mission to reclaim the blues for the folks who invented it—black people—and this very fine album makes a pretty good case for the rightness of his cause. How so? Well, to begin with The Fatalist is mostly acoustic, relying on the speed and accuracy of Nichols fingers rather than a floor sized pedal board; there are no endless wah wah’d solos, no feedback freakery. His vocal delivery matches up, too, quiet but intense, an on-pitch growl that pulls you in and holds you there. There’s a simplicity in the playing and arrangements that underlines the power of these song. Listen, for instance, to the eerie magic of slide, the elemental punch of kick drum on the Blind Willie Nelson cover, “You’re Gonna Need Somebody on Your Bond.” Or the winding melancholy on “The Long Journey Home,” which frolics funereally in banjo and fiddle tones. He brings in the Philadelphia singer and songcatcher Samantha Rise on “This Moment” for a duet, her voice warm and resonant, his hoarse with emotion, a violin twining around the both of them in a dizzy mesh of sounds. A subtle album, but a good one.

Jennifer Kelly

Cyberplasm — First Emanation (Iron Lung)

First Emanation (LUNGS-262) by CYBERPLASM

Electro-punk dissonance melds and mixes it up with anarcho-freak industrial noise on this new EP from Olympia-based Cyberplasm. The band doesn’t seek to exorcize the ghost in the machine so much as conjure it, feed it with nerve impulses harvested from your frontal lobes and then unleash it on our various political and informational systems. Chaos ensues. Maybe it’s liberatory, maybe it just wants to raze all signs of institutional power. Too damn bad if your sense of security or self-worth gets in the way — and in any case, the music is perversely enjoyable. Check out the d-beat scree of “Spit from Fluid” or the foreboding, crust-infused “Second Mind.” The EP’s ten minutes flash by in a series of burned-out synapses and frying amplifiers. Cyberplasm makes underground music that captures the grit and weirdness of lawless subterranean spaces, virtual and material. It’s exciting stuff. It feels dangerous. Punk’s not dead.

Jonathan Shaw

Decoherence — Order (Sentient Ruin Laboratories)

Order by DECOHERENCE

If you have been following Decoherence’s coruscating, cosmic circuit through the 21st century, you won’t find much to be surprised by on Order, the band’s new LP. It’s 40+ minutes of pounding, pyrotechnic industrial metal, thoroughly blackened and shot through with enough harsh noise to burn off your eyebrows. The pace is a little slower, vocalist Derek Jacobsen (who appears on Decoherence releases as Tahazu, an anglicized version of the ancient Sumerian word for battle) sounds like another layer of gristle is occluding his vocal cords, and the compositions of musicians Stroda and Prior are marginally less engaged by melody than many of those on the band’s previous LP, Unitary (2020). If you’re into this sort of thing, none of those small changes is a bad thing. But while Unitary represented a profound development when contrasted with the band’s first several releases, Order feels like a consolidation — a band summing its aesthetics and refining its songwriting sensibility. Which suggests an interesting question: How much order do we want in metal music? This reviewer likes it when Decoherence embraces the chaos denoted by its band name. Check out “An Unconfined System” on this new record. Play it very, very loud. Order? Not so much.

Jonathan Shaw

Drekka—The Water of Life (Orb Tapes)

The Water of Life by Drekka

Michael Anderson, the artist who records as Drekka, made these four long-form meditations for a live performance in Indianapolis in 2015, loosely basing his mix of primitive and electronic sounds on the sci fi classic Dune. All four cuts evolve slowly out of hiss and static (the first one is even called “Stasis and Static”), a buzz like live power wires in the foreground, the faint ghosts of bells, altered choral voices rising up occasionally to mysterious ends. You could, of course, construct an imaginary Dune world out of these sounds, its vast deserts and obliterating sandstorms, its mystic addiction to spice, but it would take some active listening and imagining on your part. The title track assists, somewhat, submerging drips of liquid in the rumble of wind flapping through sails, and the nearly human chants that rise as if from a distance out of the noise. There’s a lot of activity here, a scramble to rattle bits against each other, the click and ching of various percussive elements. And through it comes the hum of dawning revelation, just hovering notes rising, but seeming to reach some inscrutable insight out of the noisy scrum.

Jennifer Kelly

The Finks — Birthdays at Solo Pasta (Milk!)

Birthdays at Solo Pasta by The Finks

Courtney Barnett’s recent announcement that her label Milk! Records will be closing down at the end of the year means that The Finks’ Birthdays at Solo Pasta will be one of the label’s final releases. This feels fitting for a label that has quietly released some understated gems over the years from artists such as Tiny Ruins and Mess Esque. The Finks, led by Oliver Mestitz, create the kind of intimate, loosely woven songs that thrive on the obvious ease between the players, as if you’re listening in to a front-room jam session in which everyone is warmed up and starting to develop their instrumental parts into a lively, organic whole. Mestitz leads the way with his quiet, congested voice, as if he’s perpetually getting over a head-cold, often accompanied by the complementary vocals of Sarah Farquharson. The rhythm section, piano and guitar are wonderfully restrained, the woodwinds muted and sinuous, with everything unfolding patiently. At their best, such as on “Marco Polo” and the instrumental “Ego Slump,” The Finks tap into something truly gorgeous and radiant.

Tim Clarke

Frode Gjerstad / Kalle Moberg / Paal Nilssen-Love — Time Sound Shape (PNL)

Time Sound Shape by Gjerstad / Moberg / Nilssen-Love

If you’ve been tracking Scandinavian free music for the past few decades, you might think you know what record sounds like when you hear that Frode Gjerstad and Paal Nilssen-Love are on it. After all, they’ve been playing together since the latter was a teen and the former was trying to lure promising players into the out-jazz life, and they’ve made a fair number of steaming recordings in that time. But they haven’t made anything quite like Time Sound Shape. Recorded at the Gamle Aker Kirke, Oslo’s oldest edifice, in 2021, it may be completely improvised, but it takes its cues from circumstance, space and opportunity, and those cues point the music in a very different direction. The old stone church’s resonance amplifies Nilssen-Love’s all-gongs set up into a massive sonic presence, and accordionist Kalle Moberg conspires with the percussionist to create a solemnly orchestral breadth of sound. Gjerstad, alternating between alto sax, alto flute and Bb clarinet, sharpens the action with short, anguished cries. This is the biggest sound that three guys can make without the assistance of electricity.

Bill Meyer

Gerrit Hatcher — Solo Five (Kettle Hole)

Solo Five by Gerrit Hatcher

Gerrit Hatcher’s learned well. Instead of waiting for fortune, the Chicago-based tenor saxophonist makes things happen. He plays in town quite often, tours econo and self-releases music on his own label, Kettle Hole Records. The title of this album (a real, glass-mastered CD, unlike the blue-faced disappointments so often sold under that name on Bandcamp these days) attests to his devotion to solo performance. It takes practice as well as physical prowess to command the quivering presence and driving force of his tone, which might remind some of Dave Rempis. Each of the album’s seven tracks makes an assertive statement, but not always a big, loud one; windy textures can be as compelling as rippling notes.

Bill Meyer

James Howard — Peek-a-Boo (Faith and Industry)

Peek-a-Boo by James Howard

James Howard’s debut is all stardust and stopped time. For some reason, I’m reminded of that scene in Buffalo ‘66 where Ben Gazzara, in surreal Sinatra-in-a-tee-shirt mode, croons his father-in-law-y feelings to an entranced, doe-eyed Christina Ricci. Except that Howard’s voice is closer to the dreamy, chill side of Roger Waters (see “St. Tropez'' and “Wots… The Deal”). And his songs are about things like meeting up with your drug dealer on the scenic outskirts of town and raising your children to fear nuclear annihilation. The high point of Peek-a-Boo might be “The Reckoning,” where Howard’s fingers tiptoe up the fretboard like a kid on Christmas Eve on his way to peek at his presents, and cymbals splash like someone on tranquilizers falling into a pool. But really the whole record is a gem and feels like one big, wonderful, floaty, pill-powered dream.

Chris Liberato

Chuck Johnson — Music from Burden of Proof (All Saints)

Music From Burden Of Proof by Chuck Johnson

Chuck Johnson has long been a master of eerie pedal steel atmospherics, building shadowy cloudscapes out of shifting, resonating guitar tone. Here he turns his grasp of sonic mystery to cinematic ends, composing music both guitar-based and not for the HBO series Burden of Proof. If you’re familiar with Johnson’s solo work, the opening “Burden of Proof” will catch you up short with its Bach organ cantata ominous-ness, its densely arranged chamber strings. It sounds not at all like the silvery dream narratives of Balsams or The Cinder Grove; it gathers up in stirring crescendos of emotional turmoil. “The Night of the Disappearance” fits more neatly with what you might have heard before from Johnson. It floats lingering traces of bending guitar sound over a slow lattice of electric keyboard. But setting aside expectations of what Chuck Johnson should or shouldn’t sound like, there is quite a lot to appreciate here: the glittering rhythms and bare-bones bass plunk of “Interrogation,” the swelling synth tones of “Ruth Ann,” the bright cerebral keyboard cadences of “The Note.” Not having seen the show, I can’t tell you how the music works (or doesn’t) to support mood or plot points, but here on the record, it’s subtle and varied, and occasionally, as on “More Surreal” has the slow moving contemplative grace that distinguishes Johnson’s best work. He’s making art and likely getting well paid. Good for him.

Jennifer Kelly

Héctor Lavoe — La Voz (Craft Latino)

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After arriving in New York as a teenager, Puerto Rican singer Héctor Lavoe became a key figure in the popularization of salsa during the 1960s and 1970s. As part of the Fania label roster that included Willie Cólon, Rubén Blades and Celia Cruz, Lavoe released nine albums beginning with his 1975 debut, the aptly named La Voz. Produced and arranged by Cólon, the album foregoes much of the instrumental pyrotechnics of his contemporaries’ records to focus on Lavoe’s voice and improvisational talents. Opener “El Todopoderosa” (The Almighty) features frenetic percussion, piano vamps and blasts of brass which, good as they are, have no chance distracting from Lavoe’s caramel smooth tone and timbre. The clarity of his voice carries the emotional weight of “Un Amor de la Calle” even as the horns weep behind him. On the joyful, faster numbers his call and response with backing vocalists Cólon, Blades and Willie Garcia drive the songs forward but there’s plenty in the background to grab the ears. Witness the off-kilter piano and trumpet solo in “Rompe Saragüey” or the percussion and horn breakdown in “Mi Gente.” Whether you’re a salsa fan or not, this is an opportunity to hear one of the great vocalists in his prime with a killer band and irresistible songs. What’s not to love.

Andrew Forell

Natalie Rose LeBrecht — Holy Prana Open Game (American Dreams)

Holy Prana Open Game by Natalie Rose LeBrecht

It would not be accurate to describe Natalie Rose LeBrecht’s new record as a mix between La Monte Young/Marian Zazeela’s (who she’s studied with and assisted) cosmic minimalism and the Dirty Three’s more spacey, searching efforts (that trio’s Mick Turner and Jim White both play on Holy Prana Open Game), but even in its inadequacy the comparison points towards the kind of rarified air the record is floating amidst. It’s kind of wild to remember that “Amok” here is a radically transformed (one might even say, ahem, improved) cover of the Atoms For Peace song, it’s so of a piece with the other five pieces that make up the album. Whether it’s the more open excursions of “Open” and “Prana” or the gentle lilt of the opening “Home,” this suite soars into inner space immediately and rests there contentedly.

Ian Mathers

Gabe ‘Nandez — “Louis XIV” (POW Recordings)

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Anyone paying attention to Jeff Weiss’ POW Recordings has been able to surmise how enthusiastic the label head has been about the hushed husk of New Yorker Gabe ‘Nandez, and Gabe’s returned the favor in kind with polyglot explorations of the inter- and intrapersonal alike, most recently on April’s Pangea, plus a feature alongside fellow East Coast tome spitter Billy Woods on last year’s Aethiopes. The one-off “Louis XIV” finds Gabe talking kingly killings and heartbreak over a sublimely paired beat from Tel Aviv producer Argov (he of “Venus in Mercury” that preceded this) and kitted in a Burberry coat amid London’s Abney Park cemetery. A low-slung, high-intensity performance, “Louis XIV” is self-evident, a perfect portrait of what makes ‘Nandez so lethal (and appealing) as a rapper. Anyone with an affinity for bars ought to appreciate it.

Patrick Masterson

Jim O’Rourke — Hands That Bind OST (Drag City)

Hands That Bind (Original Motion Picture Soundtrack) by Jim O'Rourke

Any word of a new Jim O’Rourke release is justifiably greeted with excitement, especially when that release is via Drag City. However, Hands That Bind isn’t a continuation of the glorious singer-songwriter fare O’Rourke has perfected on albums such as Eureka, Insignificance and Simple Songs, but rather the soundtrack to a new film by director Kyle Armstrong. The instrumental atmosphere is aligned with many of O’Rourke’s Steamroom explorations, which he’s made available in a steady stream via Bandcamp: slow, sparse, mostly abstract synthesizer soundscapes. The difference here, given O’Rourke is responding to a visual medium, is deeper grounding in the creation of an immediate evocative mood. Shimmering synth textures evoke the chittering of crickets and wide-open expanses of countryside, punctuated by percussion and the reassuring thrum of upright bass. Then, suddenly, a detuned piano or dulcimer will cut through the mix, raising an eyebrow of concern, as if uncertainty is looming on the horizon. The drama of this simple juxtaposition creates an addictive tension that sustains this elegant suite’s runtime.

Tim Clarke

Rat Heart — “Flashing Lights Freestyle” (Shotta Tapes)

Rat Heart - Flashing Lights Freestyle by Shotta Tapes

One of Kanye’s most indelible beats is herewith given a kind of Jai Paul-like treatment via Mancunian Tom Boogizm, who runs the Shotta Tapes label that’s known best for the free-for-all experiments of his increasingly visible Rat Heart alias. We’re a far cry from Northern Luv Songs 4 Wen Ur Life's a Mess, obviously, which threw all manner of spaced-out, instrumental guitar hypnotics at the wall only to see it all stick in a manner most Dusted faithful would find familiar — but this isn’t a total left turn for Tom given we’ve also seen stuff like the Actress-esque 'A Blues' come out in the last year. If you don’t know where to start with him, this serves as a good point of entry for his more beat-driven material, the vocals submerged just that little bit too much beneath the fluorescent, once-ubiquitous backing beat of the Graduation staple. Nobody’s asking for a return to 2007 (that I know of, anyway), but it’s enough for a moment to remember the music once outshone the hubris of its creator. Some of us might call that moment simpler.

Patrick Masterson

La Sécurité — Stay Safe! (Mothland)

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Montreal quintet La Sécurité combine insouciant new wave and funk driven post punk on their debut album Stay Safe! It’s a lane that’s been driven before by bands like Romeo Void and Au Pairs, but they bring an infectious energy to bear. Singing in French and English, lead vocalist Éliane Viens-Synnott moves from the ironic detachment of Debora Lyall to indignant recrimination, shaping her voice to inhabit each song. Atop Kenneth Smith’s propulsive drums and Félix Bélisle’s elastic bass lines, guitarists Melissa Di Menna and Laurence Anne Charest-Gagné add chunky chords and sibilant solos. Although you can spend time picking the influences, the songs are uniformly good. The dispassionate sprechgesang of “Le Kick” with its motorik drums and Au Pairs guitar licks, the mocking tone of the Devo like “Waiting For Kenny,” the groove of “Serpent” which sounds like an amalgam of “Snakes Crawl” and “Too Many Creeps.” The rhythms are tight, the guitars slash and chime in equal measure, the quintet all contribute synths, percussion and backing vocals to their stories of toxic men, relationship ups and downs and daily grind of existence.

Andrew Forell

Jumping Back Slash, Būjin — “Order of Change” (Future Bounce Ltd.)

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Would you believe this started as a piano-based folk ballad? Maybe not if you only heard the first half of the first single from a promised forthcoming album due in November. But what originated as a song with a “folklike Kate Bush flavor to it” morphed into a Janus-faced split of a dancefloor-filling first half that runs Brit-turned-South African Jumping Back Slash’s bass-heavy club deconstruction right through Cape Town native Būjin’s delicate but firm vocal before turning into a lush, orchestral outro much closer in spirit to the original idea. The balance works both ways for Būjin, who tightropes across the transition clear to the other side. What else this LP has in store remains to be seen, but it’s a promising first dispatch for those who err on the side of futuristic pop sounds.

Patrick Masterson

Whose Rules — Hasler (777 Rules)

Hasler by Whose Rules

If you’ve got any sort of weakness for airy, breathless, pristine indie pop, may I suggest Whose Rules, the solo endeavor from a busy Norwegian producer named Marius Elfstedt. This first album, Hasler, touches ever so lightly on sonic territories staked out by Elliott Smith: a wistful tenor warble wrapped around softly inevitable tunes. You might even catch a whiff of the Sea and Cake’s breezy artfulness. Yet while the songs aren’t weighted down, they’re not exactly scrubbed bare either. Elfstedt’s producer background shows through in shifting, transparencies of overlaid sound: guitars, synths, percussion frame delicate melodies but don’t overwhelm them. The music wafts by in a flavored cloud, but there’s a good deal of nourishment in its ethereal mix. I like “Stone” with its scrabbly guitars, its rainy/sunny moods, its sudden swells of synth that could easily be horn lines. There’s a bigger, brassier song in here somewhere, but for now it’s hiding shyly, reticently in a private corner of Elfstedt’s imagination.

Jennifer Kelly

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omegaremix · 5 months ago

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Omega Radio for September 21, 2015; #95.

Ronnie Laws “Always There”

Ace Spectrum “I Can’t Keep Holding On”

Sylvia & The Moments “Sho Nuff Boogie”

T.S.U. Tornadoes “Going To Get Through To You”

Moments, The “What’s Your Name?”

Soul Vibrations “The Dump”

Billy Stuart “Cross My Heart”

Roland Haynes “Eglise”

Freddie King “Going Down”

Gwen McCrae “90% Of Me Is You”

Alan Parker & Alan Hawkshaw “The Difference”

m.o.p. “When You Come Around”

Dorothy Black “Miracle Man”

Andre Perry & Louis Delacour “New Life”

Renee Geyer “Be There In The Morning”

Pop Eye “Lazy Haze”

Dave Valentine “The Tellers”

Orchestra Julian “Do It With Class”

Sweet Maya “People Suite”

Bill Loose “Almost Sixteen”

Undisputed Truth “Space Machine”

Joe Chambers “Mind Rain”

Johnny Harris “Paint It Black”

Rhythm Section, The “A Very Special Love”

Bloodstone “Who Has The Last Laugh Now?”

Joe Thomas “Polarizer”

Gary Davis And His Professor “Stay With Me”

John Cameron “Playgirl”

James Clarke “Waiting Game”

Johnny Hammond “This Year’s A Dream”

Originals, The “Fantasy Interlude”

Mark Holder “Music Turns Me On”

Ethel Beatty “It’s Your Love”

L.A. Boppers “Saturday”

Sweet Mixture “House Of Fun And Love”

David Barnett “Asteroids”

George Benson “Erotic Moods”

Milan Pillar “The Thrill”

Black Blood & The Chocolate Pickles “Mississippi Mud”

Paul Ellis “Moonlit Stream At The Mouth Of A Cavern”

Pete Jolly “Seasons”

Sauveur Mallia “Future Visions”

Syd Vale “Chelsea Dawn”

Tantor “Niedernwohren”

Bonus vinyl treasures, sampling, and crate-digging: soul, R&B, jazz, fusion.

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gumnut-logic · 4 years ago

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All of us love a mischievous squid.

-o-o-o-

Everyone knew Virgil was the musical soul in the family. He played, wrote and occasionally bled music. It was a constant in their home and the few times it was missing due to illness or absence, it was painful.

The man could sing if he wanted to, but that was a rare thing. He could dance with the grace of any ballroom dancer, his rhythm and style even outshining his eldest brother, Mr Lady-swooner himself.

Music was part of Virgil’s soul.

So, what happened late one Wednesday night after one too many rescues and ten too many drinks was quite surprising to them all.

The Tracy brothers weren’t big drinkers. They couldn’t afford to be due to their occupation. Both Scott and Virgil had been known to down a late night sniff of whisky on occasion. John had his boutique beers, but honestly, he wasn’t home very often to drink them, and space and alcohol was never a good combination.

Gordon fancied an odd cocktail from time to time and had the liquor stash to back it up, but most of the bottles were dusty and a couple well past their expiry dates. They just didn’t have the time or the opportunity to really let rip.

But it was Wednesday. The last rescue of five had been an avalanche and they always sucked. The boys had congregated in the living room…and it was a living room, not a damned comms room because International Rescue was down for a good forty-eight hours, Grandma’s orders.

They were all exhausted, but none wanted to sleep. They wouldn’t admit it, but there was fear in what they might find behind closed eyelids after such a shitty day, so they just sat together.

At first it was quiet. One or two words, fragmented debrief, until Virgil put an end to it and demanded John come home. Now!

Fifteen minutes later, the middle brother, just as exhausted as the rest, slunk into the living room and made a seat his own.

But there was little talking, each caught up in their own thoughts.

“Screw this.” Gordon jumped to his feet. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.” And he disappeared around the corner.

Scott didn’t pay much attention, his eyes on John, assessing his condition and fast coming to the conclusion that his brother hadn’t slept in at least the last twenty-four hours judging by the bags under his eyes.

“John, have you eaten.”

Turquoise darted in his direction. “Have you?”

A blink and Scott realised he hadn’t. He had been too occupied keeping track of tired brothers. “No.” Honestly, he wasn’t hungry.

“Then you understand.”

A glare in his brother’s direction. John just turned away.

Scott’s lips thinned, but then his attention was taken by Alan, who was slowly tipping sideways on his couch, eyelids drooping. “Alan, you should go to bed.”

“Don’t wanna. Wanna stay with you guys.” His head landed on the couch cushion and two seconds later he was snoring.

Scott sighed.

“I have cake. I have popcorn. I have drinks.” Hurricane Gordon slammed into the sunken lounge and a pile of popcorn, chips, a rather large cake and a bucket of candy landed with him. The whole mess was dumped on the table and the aquanaut disappeared again.

Scott just stared at the pile of food.

“Well, that’s the healthy option.” Virgil’s voice was pure sarcasm.

“Do you really care?” Honestly, Virg.

“Not really, but the principle is there.”

Scott rolled his eyes. Just in time for Gordon to reappear with half his alcohol stash, several of John’s beers and whisky. Glorious, golden whisky.

Now that was a very good idea.

What happened after the appearance of the alcohol involved a movie Scott didn’t pay much attention to, far too much carbohydrate…c’mon, caramel popcorn, yes…and a lot of alcohol.

After all, they were down for forty-eight hours guaranteed and how often did that happen? This was an opportunity for them to focus on themselves and despite their exhaustion, there was finally a little relaxation in front of…the Enterprise?

“Who gave John the remote?!”

“I did.” The feminine AI’s voice danced through the room in amusement.

“Eos! That’s cheating!”

She giggled. “I thought Gordon was cheating when he stuck it in his drink.”

Scott turned to his aquanaut brother who was dressing the sleeping Alan’s hair with popcorn. “Gordon!”

“What?!” The cocktail in his hand had an umbrella and a remote control garnishing it.

“You drowned the remote.”

“Huh?” He looked at his drink. “Oh.” And he pulled it out of the concoction and started licking it clean.

“Augh.”

A blur of red plaid and Virgil snatched the gadget from Gordon’s fingers and flicked it into the nearest pot plant.

Gordon appeared forlorn for its absence for a whole second before turning to his drink and sculling it all in one go.

“Gordon!” This time it was Virgil yelling his name.

The aquanaut had blue curacao for lipstick. “What?!” It was a direct echo of his same exasperated response moments earlier.

“Take it easy.”

“I don’t want to take it easy. I’m having fun.” With that he grabbed a bottle and dumped something red into the same glass with the blue, resulting in a rather unpleasant purple.

Scott groaned.

Which only earned him an assessing stare from Virgil.

A sigh. “Relax, Virgil. We’re home, we’re safe. Let your hair down a little.”

He was going to regret those words later.

The stare turned into a glare, but moments later, Gordon was ribbing Virgil about drinking and somehow he got under the engineer’s skin because there was a drinking contest.

Unfortunately for Gordon, swimmer’s physique or not, apparently Virgil was more brawn and could simply just absorb the stuff.

Gordon ended up snoozing in a sea of popcorn beside Alan.

John started giggling.

Scott raised an eyebrow at the small pyramid of empty beer bottles beside his space brother.

“How many have you had?”

“It’s a tetrahedron. Work it out.” John placed a single bottle at the top of the pyramid and smirked at Scott.

This was definitely a very bad idea.

His own whisky glass was only half empty. He needed to fix that.

It was warm going down.

Gordon started snoring, loudly.

“Okay, that’s it. Time for bed.”

“Don’t wanna go to bed.” Virgil put on the soppiest puppy dog face Scott had ever seen.

John cracked up laughing.

Oh god. “No, bed, now.”

“Okay.” And Virgil stood up.

And took a quick step to the left, then the right, before managing to stabilise himself somewhat upright, but listing slightly to one side.

It was that moment that the movie playing on the holoprojector burst into music.

Music? What the hell were they watching. He stared up into a haze of rebooted retro nineteen fifties and a song about a car and lightning.

“Ooh, I like this one.”

What?

And Virgil was suddenly dancing. Well, it could be considered dancing in some circles, but it mostly consisted of a lot of poorly coordinated butt wiggling and a lot of horizon pointing arms.

The jumping on the couch was really not called for.

“Virg?”

But his brother was lost to the music and dancing his heart and his coordination all out.

“C’mon, Scott, get up and boogie!”

Of course, Virgil was loud enough to wake Gordon, who took one look at Virgil and fell off the couch.

There was far too much butt wiggling happening.

“Virg, come down from there.”

He was completely ignored.

Scott needed more alcohol.

The bottle of golden oblivion smiled at him.

Screw it.

He wasn’t quite sure what happened next, but the result was a broken lamp and Gordon on the floor laughing hard enough to break a rib.

“Eos, play Jailhouse Rock.” John managed that between giggles. Scott idly noticed that the tetrahedron had become modern art and was attempting to defy the laws of physics.

It failed with a smash and rolling of bottles two minutes later.

And Virgil was still dancing.

Classic Elvis Presley at full volume, enough to wake up every lifeform in the caldera.

The butt wiggling had morphed into hip waggling and some kind of leg shaking that threatened to faceplant his brother on the floor.

“Virg, please get off the couch.”

“I am having fun, Scott.” Each word was enunciated clearly as if the man was having trouble putting the syllables together. “Letting my hair down.” A grin and Virgil shoved his fingers into his hair and completely messed it up until it was sticking out in all directions. Suddenly a hand was almost in Scott’s face. “Join me?”

There was something in his brother’s deep brown eyes, something beyond the alcoholic haze, something desperate, something…sad.

Scott never could refuse a brother his help. So, a moment later, he found himself standing on the couch as Virgil shifted his dance moves into something that involved some shoulder rolling and a goofy grin.

Scott found himself grinning in return.

John said something half drowned out by the music and the room was suddenly filled with an old dance favourite from his teens.

Virgil actually let off a laugh and moved into a sloppy dance routine from their childhood.

Scott couldn’t help himself and at some point, he just let go.

-o-o-o-

Alan woke from one of the weirdest dreams of his life. It involved music and Thunderbird Three dancing to a beat, her arms waving about.

It took him a moment to work out exactly why.

The dream was saner than reality. Scott and Virgil were standing on one of the couches…dancing.

Alan blinked the sleep out of his eyes. Was that the Macarena? It was hard to tell. Virgil was so uncoordinated, he could have been servicing Two in his sleep for all Alan could discern. Scott was smoother, but he was leaning at a teetering angle.

Frantic eyes located his two other brothers.

John was sitting on the floor beside a pile of empty beer bottles. He had a dob of cake frosting on one eyebrow.

That left Gordon.

The strawberry blond was sitting on the floor in front of Alan’s couch.

“Gords? What’s going on?”

Gordon turned around and a soft smile curved his lips. “Big bros are letting their hair down.” The music suddenly paused and Gordon sat up straighter. “Eos, Dance Party 2054.”

More music erupted from the overhead speakers and vibrated the glass walls.

Alan found himself bopping to the beat.

Virgil climbed up off the couch and onto the hardwood floor, apparently so he could really let loose. His plaid shirt was undone and swirling around him as he moved.

Scott tripped over the top of the couch and almost faceplanted on that same hardwood, but he saved himself the bruises with those half-sharp reflexes of his. A moment later he was up boogying with his brother.

It was an odd sight.

“Are they okay?”

Gordon’s voice was quiet. “No, but they will be.”

“What about John?”

Gordon shrugged as they both eyed the slouched astronaut. “Not sure he has it in him, fresh down from Five. He’s safer on the floor.”

“What about you?”

Gordon snorted. “I’m good.” He chucked down the remains of his drink before turning to face his little brother. “Wanna dance?”

Alan’s eyes widened. “How are you?” His eyes bounced to the empty bottles on the table, the stained glasses and limp umbrellas.

“What? Do you really think I can’t outlast Virg? The man is a drinking wimp. Only took two good ones to get him dancing with the fairies. Letting him win was the hard part.”

“Win what?”

A snort. “Virg thinks he can drink me under the table. He’s small fry.” The aquanaut stumbled to his feet and Alan eyed him. Gordon had definitely had a few. “You aren’t allowed to kill brain cells. However, you can have fun, dear little brother.” He held out his hand. “May I have this dance?”

He blamed sleep fog for the automatic yes that found him up and out of the sunken lounge, careening around the room laughing his ass off.

-o-o-o-

“John, what is happening?”

The astronaut blinked dopily. Maybe he had had one too many, but with each one, the voices faded just that little bit more. Calls for help he was desperate to answer.

And the silences that followed.

“They’re dancing, Eos.” It was obvious really.

“I’ve never seen them act like this before.”

“Doesn’t happen very often.” If ever. What was Scott trying to do with their father’s chair? “Eos, could you please close the doors to the balcony.” Gravity did suck after all.

He took another swig of Swedish beer as the giant glass doors slid smoothly closed.

“Can you access the room lighting?”

“One moment. I have control, John.”

“Good. Reference the 1970s disco movement and see if you can replicate any of the lighting involved.”

“FAB.”

A few moments later and the room’s lighting went nuts. The holoprojector flickered and shone dancing rainbows on the rafters. The atmosphere changed radically as the whole room pulsed and flickered in beat with the music.

Virgil froze for a whole five seconds in the middle of the room, staring up at the glass ceiling before bursting into a massive grin and throwing himself into a full on fit of dancing to the song that was screaming out of the speakers.

Scott was pirouetting with his father’s chair in great rotating circles.

Gordon was attempting some kind of retro-breakdancing. Though at this point, the only thing that was going to be broken was pot plants.

Alan had a grin on his face and was the most coordinated of them all, jiggling along to the beat with a grin on his face.

Another figure appeared in the entrance to the room. It took John’s entire remaining intellect to realise that it was Grandma.

Something stirred in the back of John’s head, something about getting in trouble, but he had no coordination to connect the dots so gave up. Besides, the Grandma figure was only standing in the doorway watching.

“What is the purpose of all this activity?” Eos’ voice was ever curious.

“It’s fun, Eos. An attempt at stress relief.” To wash the pain away.

-o-o-o-

Virgil was vaguely aware that he was being ridiculous, but he was beyond caring. The music pulsed through him and lifted him up. He just let it all go and rode the beat.

He was too exhausted to care about anything.

Except his brothers.

He always cared about his brothers.

Scott was astride their father’s chair and was riding it across the room in a completely undignified manner. Gordon was laughing his ass off at the sight and Alan was beside him in that. Even John was grinning as the eldest coasted past.

Virgil spun and let the air stream around him.

Round and round and round.

Oh dear, too round.

He staggered to a halt, but the world kept going. He stumbled.

A hand caught him. “Take it easy, honey.”

The blur turned into his grandmother in her dressing gown.

“Grandma!” He drew her in to a massive hug. “I love you, Grandma.”

Her tiny arms hugged him back. “Virgil, you’re drunk.”

“No, no, I’m dancing. Wanna dance, Grandma?”

She was looking up at him with concern on her face.

“Smile, Grandma. You need to be happy.”

He needed to be happy.

She reached up and touched his face, her hand cupping his cheek.

He closed his eyes and leant into her palm as the beat throbbed around him.

-o-o-o-

The sight of his grandmother sobered Scott immediately. The chair beneath him drifted a few more feet before he brought it to a halt.

Grandma caught Virgil as he stumbled and they were hugging. Something about that simple gesture clenched his heart.

He clambered off the chair and staggered awkwardly. Okay, maybe he had a few too many. He forced himself upright, kicking some spine into his vertebrae and made his way over to his grandmother.

Virgil was all plaid and gentle eyes as she cupped his cheek.

“Grandma?” Scott’s voice wavered with his step.

Eyes as blue as his own turned towards him. “Scotty, you need to sit down before you fall down.”

He frowned. He had a chair a moment ago. He looked around.

A hand caught his cheek and drew his gaze back to his grandmother and those blue eyes.

A red arm wrapped around him and drew him in. “Scott, you are my big brother.” The statement was declared with so much love as he was pulled sideways into Virgil.

They almost fell in a heap. It was Grandma who steadied them.

“You boys need to go to bed.” A concerned frown and she called out to the ceiling. “Eos, kill the light show and the music.”

The silence that fell was so sudden, Scott almost fell with it.

Virgil stumbled and Scott held him upright.

An almighty crash off to their left and Gordon upended one of the large pot plants near the glass doors. Potting mix scattered across the floor. Gordon rolled over and sat up covered in the stuff. “Who turned off the music?”

Grandma straightened. “It is time for bed, young man.”

The dopey aquanaut looked up at his grandmother and squinted. “Grandma, is that you?”

She ignored him. “Alan, come here, sweety.”

Alan, who was yawning fit to break his jaw, wandered over as bidden.

“Yes, Grandma?”

She snaked an arm around his waist and drew him in. “Time for bed, Allie.”

Virgil reached out an arm to snag his littlest brother, but suddenly Gordon was in his way and he got an arm full of fish instead.

Virgil did not seem to mind. “Gordo! My wingman, my copilot, my fish in a barrel.” Red plaid squeezed tight. “Love you, bro.”

Scott blinked. That was three. Where was the other one?

A glance at the lounge found John sprawled on the floor up against one of the lounges, fast asleep.

“Oi, Johnny!”

Scott jumped at Virgil’s yell and so did John. Bleary turquoise peered in their direction.

“Get over here, little brother, group hug!”

Wha-? Scott’s head was so foggy.

But John was stumbling to his feet. Something told him this was a dangerous thing. As the astronaut wobbled over, Scott moved to help him, but found himself snagged by cast iron red plaid.

Fortunately, Alan picked up on his fellow spaceman’s difficulties and hurried over to give him a hand. A few moments of wobbly astronaut and John was standing with them.

Virgil immediately reached for him. “Johnny!”

Unfortunately, he didn’t let go of either Gordon or Scott when he did and, damn, Virgil was strong. They ended up in a huddle, Alan and Grandma awkwardly caught up with them.

“I love you guys.” Virgil’s voice was muffled up against John’s shirt. Scott had caught Grandma and Gordon had grabbed Alan. Virgil had his face mushed into John’s shoulder.

John looked like he had stuck a finger in an electrical socket and didn’t know why his hair was on fire.

“We love you, too, Virgil.” It was Gordon’s voice, muffled by Alan’s hair.

Something lodged in Scott’s throat and he found himself hugging the pieces of brother and grandmother he could reach.

Apparently, it was something they all needed, because they stayed there holding each other for a full minute.

Just long enough for Virgil to fall asleep against John’s shoulder and let off a snore. It took Gordon and Scott to catch him to prevent them all from falling in a heap.

The group hug dissolved and the focus became getting certain brothers to their bedrooms. Grandma hovered and helped where she could. Scott took Virgil, while Gordon switched to helping Alan with John.

The family went their separate ways.

Grandma followed Scott up to Virgil’s rooms. The engineer faded in and out, declaring his love for any and all brothers several times on the way up. But by the time they made it to Virgil’s room, the engineer was getting heavy.

“C’mon, Virg, not much further.” Scott was ever so glad of that as his head was still trying to swim against the current.

Letting him gently down on his bed, the man immediately curled up into a ball, fully dressed and obviously not caring. Scott undid green shoelaces, dumped boots on the floor with a clatter and yanked the covers up and over his already snoring little brother.

A hand smoothed crazed hair back into its more familiar style and Scott unfolded from the bed.

A glass of water appeared on the bedside table and he turned to find his grandmother looking at him fondly. He blinked. He had forgotten she was there.

She held out a hand and as he took it, he was drawn into a quiet hug. She was ever so little up against his bulk. “C’mon, Scotty, let’s get you to bed.”

“I’m okay, Grandma. I need to check on the others.”

She sighed, but let go a single nod.

As they left Virgil’s rooms, she didn’t leave his side.

A visit to John’s room found him in bed, but the wrong way around, his feet on the pillow, his head hanging off the end. It took some prodding and yanking, but Scott re-orientated him. A quick check of the gravity support systems in his clothing were functioning properly �� the alcohol probably wasn’t helping. Grandma materialised with another glass of water which was placed on John’s bedside table.

Quietly. “Eos, are you monitoring, John’s systems?”

“Of course. He is well, Commander. Do not concern yourself. I will watch him.”

Scott’s eyes closed without permission and he had to force them open again. “Thank you, Eos.”

The AI didn’t answer.

Grandma took his arm and led him from the room.

A check on Alan found him on the floor, but that was nothing unusual. Gordon had probably dumped him there. The kid preferred the rug to his bed and Scott meant to talk to him about it, but…life.

Gordon had fallen asleep in the corridor outside his room.

Scott rolled his eyes. He wouldn’t be surprised if the brat had done that on purpose. After all the entire night’s fracas was obviously engineered by the aquanaut. A fond sigh of exasperation and he pulled his little brother into his arms and dragged him into his rooms.

Dragging fish was considerably easier than dragging two hundred pounds of engineer.

Scott threw Gordon onto his bed and covered him up. Fingers brushed hair off his face.

Scott sighed again and had to prevent himself from curling up beside his brother.

“C’mon, Scotty, your turn.”

Scott mumbled something even he didn’t fully comprehend and let his grandmother lead him out of his brother’s rooms. One of the aquariums blurped at him as he walked past.

And finally, he was in his own rooms and his own bed. Grandma handed him a glass of water. He guzzled it before burying his face in his pillow.

He opened his eyes as a hand brushed through his hair. “We love you, Scotty. Don’t you ever forget that.”

He blinked slowly and managed a smile up at his grandmother, but her fingers caressed the side of his face, forcing his eyes to close again and he drifted off.

His dreams were kind.

And full of loving family.

-o-o-o-

FIN.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #Gordon Tracy #Virgil Tracy #Scott Tracy #John Tracy #Alan Tracy #alcohol #nuttyfic reblog

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hb-writes · 4 years ago

Text

Compensation

Written in response to Hauntober prompt #11: Nightmare

Summary: Haunting of Hill House story. The youngest Crain has always been protected by her family, taught by Luke and Nellie how to keep herself safe from the scary things in the world by counting from one to eight. When she sees an opportunity to begin repaying the favor, she takes it.

Characters Featured: Shirley Crain-Harris, Theo Crain, Steve Crain, Luke Crain, Kevin Harris, Hazel Crain (Crain!Sister).

-----

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven… Eight.

The counting was something Luke and Nellie suggested to their baby sister when they were young, the only thing that ever calmed her after a nightmare. After a certain point, she started hesitating on number eight. There were only seven of them after Hill House and the girl had no recollection at all of their mother, no real connection to the matriarch the others seemed to miss so much.

Her father told her the same thing he’d told the others in regards to nightmares and the things she saw in the middle of the night, that it was just a bit of spillover. When her Aunt Janet had let her call the man after a bad one, that's what he'd always say. But his words had never worked and Hazel had thought he knew it wouldn't work. In saying it, her father had always lacked a certain bit of conviction.

And these weren’t the kind of nightmares born of boogie monsters or things that went bump in the night, anyway. If anything, it was the horrors of daily life spilling over into the dreams, not the other way around

So Hazel fingered the tattered piece of baby blanket that she’d tucked away in the pocket of her hooded sweatshirt, her eyes lowered as she touched seven of the small buttons before hesitating on reaching for number eight.

Luke had once told her that sometimes it took a long time, the counting, but no matter how long it took, it would keep her safe. They would keep each other safe. Family was their protection.

So Hazel counted over and over, the soft whispers leaving her lips as she headed towards the bar, not the one she knew her brother-in-law would have set up in the viewing room, but the makeshift one tucked away in the residential side.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Se—

Hazel gasped, releasing a shaky breath at realizing she wasn’t alone.

“Hey, there. How did you sleep?” Kevin reached out to rub her shoulder. “You want something to eat?”

She shook her head and reached for a bottle, hastily pouring out a measure of whiskey and downing it just as quick.

“Your brothers are here. Your dad, too.”

She had slept through the afternoon, slept through lunch, and the time she’d promised to spend with her niece and nephew, and all she wanted was to pour herself a little alcohol and go back to sleep again, but her family was all there, even Nellie, waiting in the viewing room.

Hazel should have known that they’d all be there. They were expected. And she was expected to be there with them, honoring Nellie, mourning her with the family. She poured herself another drink and leaned into the wall, looking toward the viewing room, the perfect set up Kevin and Shirley had crafted, same as they did for every funeral.

She fingered the buttons again with her free hand.

One. Two. Thre—

“Haze?”

She looked up to Kevin at the interruption, stopped her counting though she felt a compulsive need to finish.

“I’m sure they’d love to—”

They both shuddered at the sudden rise of voices from the next room over, Shirley shouting about the blood money. Hazel set the cup down, moving past her brother-in-law, something in her eldest sister’s tone setting her off.

“Hey, don’t—” Kevin started, his hand reaching out as she stepped in front of him.

Hazel wormed out of his grasp and stepped into the lobby to see Shirley and Theo shouting, their faces inches apart despite the height difference.

“I took it, too," Hazel said, standing just inside the entryway.

Theo's face fell as she turned to her. She'd known, of course. They'd kept each other's secret for years now and Theo had been ready to take it to the grave.

“You did what?” Shirley asked.

“I… I took the money, too," Hazel repeated, taking a few tentative steps as Theo and Shirley separated.

Shirley scoffed, throwing her hands up. “Of course, you took the fucking money.”

“I was just out of school and—”

“You don’t even remember that house," Shirley interrupted. "You were a baby, Hazel.”

“That doesn’t mean—"

Hazel heard someone attempt to speak up, to come to her defense. Steve, she thought, but Shirley was louder, angrier, and her words drowned him out.

“We all agreed. We all agreed not to take his fucking blood money and you—"

“She was just a kid, Shirley,” Theo answered.

Shirley glared at Theo. “Yeah, and what's your excuse?

"She was twenty years old. Had no trouble insisting she wasn't a kid anymore. But that’s how she’s always gotten away with it, with everything, right? Hazel’s the baby. Hazel never had mom. Hazel has always been so damn special, always protected, sheltered, given miles and miles of slack. The only fucking person in this family who gets more slack than her is Luke,” Shirley said to the room before turning back to her youngest sister, stepping closer, her finger raised in Hazel's face. “You are an ungrateful brat. I became your fucking guardian at twenty-five so you wouldn’t be alone at Aunt Janet’s when Nellie and Luke left. We cared for you, took you into our home, and this is how—”

"C'mon, Shirley, you don't mean that." Kevin put himself between the sisters, tried to get Shirley's attention, but he couldn't manage it with his calming words holding such little meaningful content. He took a deep breath before deciding to join the condemned.

“We took the money, too, Shirl," Kevin offered, bringing the wrath of his wife upon himself as the hand he stretched out behind him moved Hazel a few steps back.

Hazel fit her hands back inside the hoodie’s pocket once again, her lips moving as she counted in her head. One. Two—

She backed into Luke and he pulled the hand from her pocket, closing his fingers over hers as they watched Shirley and Kevin explode before them.

One… Two… Three… Four… Five… Six… Seven… Eight.

Each of Luke's gentle squeezes was a number, a constant rhythm as they counted in their heads. Hazel’s heartbeat slowed and the shouting faded away as she concentrated on Luke’s rough hand over hers, the sound of the blood pumping in her veins.

One… Two… Three… Four… Five… Six… Seven… Eight.

She glanced up at her brother, at the pain she’d never know because, in a way, Shirley was right. Hazel never knew Hill House, not really, and though she had her own pain in all of this, it was different, because she had been protected, distanced so thoroughly from the childhood nightmare the rest of them shared. Whether by virtue of her age or by the complex efforts of her family, Hazel had been protected, looked after, kept safe, even as an adult.

But sometimes they needed protection from the nightmares, too. Luke, Theo, Shirley, Steve, and even their father. So, she tightened her grip on Luke’s hand and he met her eye for a moment, somehow understanding without words that she wanted to take over, that she would protect him for a moment.

One… Two… Three… Four… Five… Six… Seven… Eight.

It wasn’t a fair exchange, the eight gentle squeezes offered to one sibling as compensation for nearly twenty-six years of protection, but it was a start.

#Hauntober #haunting of hill house #HOHH #hill house #haunting of hill house fanfic #shirley crain #theo crain #steven crain #luke crain #nellie crain #kevin harris #sister fic

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aceopmari · 5 years ago

Photo

The newest member of the Ace Ops: Marina Tortuga!

Aesop Fable: The Tortoise and the Hare (shares this with Harriet Bree) Art done by @cadhla182

Her name means “sea turtle” in Spanish.

She is the tortoise of her fable

She speaks with a Hispanic accent but uses surfer lingo such as “gnarly”, “radical”, “stoked”, “totally”, “s’yeah”, “groovy”, “dude/dudette”, or “psyched”

Her full name given to her by her beloved stepmother: “Marina Fernanda Garcia Ramirez Del Vega Tortuga”

Has a very ditzy, “chillaxed” “I’m high as fuck” personality.

Bit of a thirsty perv.

Was raised by a turtle Faunus woman and her 10 step-sisters on a beach in Menagerie after being abandoned by her Atlesian parents.

She dislikes the White Fang and the Schnee Dust Company for the parts they play in dividing Faunus in society. Holds no ill-will towards Blake or Weiss for being affiliated with respective organizations.

Has a slow wit, but her skills as a huntress will leave you surprised.

Marina: “I’ve got some wicked tricks up my sleeves!”

A/N: But you’re not wearing sleeves…

Marina: “Then it’s up my skirt! It’s all good, yeah?”

A/N:….

Her weapon is her razor-edged surfboard that can generate waves she can ride on through water or fire dust. Can also hover with gravity dust and surf on walls or high surfaces. Her board can turn into a large sword that shoots out beams with hard light dust.

The magnets on her shoes and inside her gloves allow her to hold her down in place on her board.

Very flexible body and is pretty good with combat. Her sexy legs aren’t just for show. She doesn’t like punching though. Doesn’t want to break a nail.

Little Miss “Menagerie Barbie”

A/N:...They hazed you?

Marina: “’S’yeah! On my 3rd day of school at Atlas Academy, I was invited to a beach party on campus grounds and I ended up walking on stage at the auditorium in my teeny bikini in front of the ENTIRE school!”

A/N: Why would a beach be on campus? Or even in Atlas?!

Marina: “I don’t know, dude! I thought there was totally like, beaches in the sky or something since Atlas is floating and all.”

A/N: Marina! You live in Solitas! There are no beaches!

Marina: “Duhhh! I know that NOW! Gosh!”

A/N:..You’re an idiot...

She cannot drive. Will happily ride motorcycle, ship, or truck regardless.

She’s skillful on the job but is very airheaded.

Marina: “So like, wheres the beach?”

Clover: “Marina this is the tundra...”

Marina: “I still wanna catch some icy waves, bro! Ooh! Can I go boogie boarding down the mountain later?”

Clover:...

Her semblance is “Euphoria”. Very useful when interrogating someone.

A very patient young lady, but doesn’t mind a little fast pace adrenaline if it means she can get some excitement.

Marina: “So, like, back in school, I was made leader!”

A/N: ...You were a leader? You?!

Marina: “S’yeah bro! I think it was called team...MNNT (mint)? Or was it MRRS (mars)? Hmm... maybe MLNS (melons)?”

A/N: I wonder if your teammates even liked you...

Low key low self-esteem.

After being abandoned by her parents, and being practically disowned by her step-sisters, Marina grew to dislike herself feeling as though she is a nuisance who is unwanted by others. She sometimes has 2nd thoughts about truly belonging in the Ace Ops...

Wishes for Faunus and Mantle citizens to have a good life.

Will coat herself with her semblance to relax before an intense mission to relax or to cope with stress.

Adores Clover and is grateful for him recommending her to join the Ace Ops.

Marina: “Clover? Did I do a good job?”

She’s more than willing to preach about his greatness to the others.

Marina: “Clover’s like totally righteous bro…like a GOD! I get totally psyched whenever I see him, brah!”

Will attempt to sweet talk him to get out of trouble.

Clover:...

Marina: “Dude, please don’t report me.”

Clover:: “...And why shouldn’t I?”

Marina: “Because...deep down you like totally have a thing for me!”

Clover: “Your semblance isn’t gonna work on me Marina. I’ll also have to report this to the General.”

Marina: “But Clover! We’re brossss! XD”

Clover: “First of all, you’re a woma-”

Marina: “We’re bros Clover! We’re brosss!”

Clover:...

Gets along with Elm. Though Elm sometimes questions her intelligence...

Marina: “So I was like whoa! And he was like WHOA! And she was like whoa...”

Elm: “...What are you talking about?”

Marina: “Hee hee...I don’t know!”

Elm:...

Vine dreads being paired up with Marina and wishes she did things by the book even though things work out for her in the end.

Marina and Harriet are constantly at each other's throats…poor Marrow can’t catch a break if he’s the only other Ace-Op to witness the two of them at a bad time on an airship after a mission…

Marina: “Bree is nothing but an angry, old. kook with pinkeye! She thinks cool because she’s fast. Bragging is not okay! She needs to learn how to take things slow. Dude, she was like totally spazzing out on me the other day telling me to cut my hair because the length is too much of a distraction in battle! How can she talk to me about haircuts when she looks like she cut her hair with a blender?!”

Vine:...

Marina: *Overdramatic gasp.* “You don’t think she wants to sell my hair to the monks in Mistral do you, dude?”

Vine:...

Nice girl with a snarky streak.

Marina: “Dude you like totally need a chill pill!”

Harriet: “Shut up! Stop calling me dude and take things more seriously! I can’t believe Clover chose an idiot like you to join the team!”

Ace Ops:...!!!

Marina: “Yeah? Well, maybe you should team up with someone on your level, Bree! Like maybe a trash can?”

Harriet: “What?!”

Marina: “Maybe if you were a little nicer, I might have shared some hair care tips with you!” *Flips hair and walks away*

Harriet: “EXCUSE ME?!”

Ace Ops:!!!!

Marina likes Marrow and doesn’t mind a little playful flirting. Sometimes a little too playful...

Marina: “Clover said I’m not allowed to hit that. Gotta like totally remain professional. Whatever that means... but dude! Marrow’s a total babe! The way he wags his tail is so freaking hypnotic! Totally puts me in a trance...bringing him coffee and treats in the morning at briefings make seeing his tail wag so worth it...”

A/N: What you are, is a freak with a tail fetish...I’m glad Clover enforced that no dating rule...

Marina: “Clover said we couldn’t date. He, like, totally never said we couldn’t show each other a little “affection” off the clock...”

A/N: With that semblance of yours, I’m afraid to ask what you guys do, so I’m gonna move on...

Marrow’s touched by Marina’s kindness towards the Faunus and her support for Faunus rights.

He affectionately nicknames her “Mari”

Marina can’t seem to stay out of trouble.

Marina: “You got banned too? That’s so hot!”

Marrow: “Wait. You got banned?!”

Marina: “Forget about that! Let’s go howl at the moon tonight like a wolfpack!”

Marrow: “Marina I’m not a-”

Marina: “Ouuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuoooooooo!”

Marrow:...

Marina: *Gets close to him* Doooooo itttt!

Marrow: *Blushes* “F-Fine...we can go...”

Nicknamed “Beach Bunny” by Robyn and “Bimbo” by May.

Low key Hill supporter.

Robyn: “Hey! Beach Bunny! Shouldn’t you be on guard by the entrance?”

Marina: “Whoaaa! Robyn! It’s like totally killer to see you! I’m like totally voting for you for the election next year, brah!”

Robyn: “...I’m running this year...this is my election party...”

Marina: “‘S’yeah?! Right on dude! You are totally groovy!”

Robyn:...

Don’t discriminate Faunus in her presence and don’t call her a hippie. Seriously don’t do it…

Will never stop fascinating over technology.

Once saw a commercial involving a nacho cheese dispenser and developed a new addiction since.

She’s determined to find the machine that makes nachos. Even in strange locations such as a Manta airship. She’s a nacho-holic and is not afraid to show it.

Nowadays Marrow’s the one who has to show her the ropes. Mainly because Harriet will literally tear out her mohawk if she has to sit through Marina’s BS during pilot training again.

Marrow has to keep composure and act professionally towards Marina which is easier said than done considering how attractive she is.

Marina: “Hey...”

Marrow: *blushes* “Oh h-hey...”

Marina: “Dudeeee….So like…does this button make…nachoooos?” *Points a button*

Marrow: “Nachos? I don’t think-”

Marina: “I really love nachos...the melted cheese is so ooey, gooey...moist...”

Marrow: “Y-y-yeah...moist...”

Marina: “Let's push the button together okay?” *Puts her hand on top of his over the button making him more nervous*

Marina: “One...two..”.

Marrow: “Th-three...”

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

A stoner off the clock.

Weed plus semblance equals bliss. Likes to keep Faunus children company at a Mantle orphanage, eat a bowl of nachos, or go partying in her spare time.

She doesn’t have too many friends her own age but she enjoys the company of the young Faunus children in Mantle who she tells stories of her adventures to.

In her mind, the holiday “4/20″ is Christmas part 2! You’d totally want her around at a party.

Marina: “Dude, the secret 4/20 parties down in Mantle that I host are totally killer brah! The dudes of team FNKI are like the perfect party promoters!”

A/N: Marina, you could get fired if you get caught...

Marina: “Not if your a snitch like Bree...”

Loves music! A great dancer! Singing not so much since she can’t hit those notes...

Low key considers team RWBY and her fellow teammates friends but doesn’t admit it as she fears teasing by her fellow co-workers.

She would really love to go out clubbing with them sometime. (Mostly Marrow and Clover)

Speaking of co-workers, she’s rather popular with lower-ranking military soldiers who often try their luck at asking her out on a date.

Likes to input bright ideas at meetings. Even bad and crazy ones.

Not above using her feminine wiles or her assets.

The type of gal to go “weee” or “sicckkk” in excitement if she’s on an airship that’s spiraling out of control. Of course, using her semblance helps with that.

A good VA would be Maria-Canals Barrera (Paulina from Danny Phantom anyone? Or Fire from Justice League Unlimited?”)

Ship names for fun:

Marrow x Marina: Doggie Paddle

Clover x Marina: Sea Weed

Harriet x Marina: Beach Bunnies

Robyn x Marina: Bluebirds

Marina’s full profile and backstory is here: https://www.deviantart.com/pie11644/art/RWBY-OC-Ace-Operative-Marina-Tortuga-826124955

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x-heesy · 1 year ago

Text

DJ, DJ, prime club minister play my track cause the beat is sinister,

Strobe light, blink, b-b-blink blink,

I feel like somebody roofied my drink d-d-drink drink

Dance floor politics, asses out, asses out,

Ya shorty youz about to get worked the fuck out

Some bitches came, some bitches conquered,

Some bitches got laid down in the slaughter,

Bad motherfucker, b-bad motherfucker,

What a sad motherfucker, let me duff this motherfucker,

Pretty girls, pretty girls travel in packs,

So all you bitch-made niggas stop talking back,

So all you bitch made niggas better count your stacks,

So all you bitch-made niggas better watch your backs,

It's a war out here, the real vs. the gimmicks,

The all wanna be stars but they heart ain't in it,

They all wanna go far but it's survival of the fittest,

So a spitta killa likes me comes around and fucking ends it,

See it in 'er eyes, cats wanna play,

Let me roll the dice, see what I can lay,

Lady feeling right, see what I can slay,

Haze Boogie Life, fiends like to walla, gullies like to walla

See it in 'er eyes, cats wanna play,

Let me roll the dice, see what I can lay,

Lady feeling right, see what I can slay,

Haze Boogie Life, fiends like to walla, gullies like to walla

(Where she come from?) How this bitch gettin here?

What this faggot doin here?

Sludge fucker listen 'er,

Attack from the back,

Ima leap from your sleep,

Somebody get me a staff so I can heard these fuckin sheep.

When my shit drop, it hits the 6 million circulation,

Illuminati who? Illuminati nation.

The great white hype, yes Ms. Blanco,

Got all these cats shook from LA to Toronto,

Got all my flights booked Capetown to London,

Paris and Geneva, Tokyo to Compton.

The thriller and vanilla,

Laid em countin scrilla,

Only top biller,

Only rocks my nigga,

Ya we rock my nigga,

To the top we'll figure,

The great white hype,

Yah Ms. Blanco game killer.

(I think they forgot what this shit supposed to sound like)

See it in 'er eyes, cats wanna play,

Let me roll the dice, see what I can lay,

Lady feeling right, see what I can slay,

Haze Boogie Life, fiends like to walla, gullies like to walla

See it in 'er eyes, cats wanna play,

Let me roll the dice, see what I can lay,

Lady feeling right, see what I can slay,

Haze Boogie Life, fiends like to walla, gullies like to walla

Haze.Boogie.Life by Mykki Blanco 💣🎧💣

@wetwicksdry @ro3000 @2020blaq @mayleaveamarck 🤎

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slytherinshua · 1 month ago

Note

Hi! How are you?? Have you been well? Up to anything nice?

Since you've been gatekeeping that boogie man solo clip, what other parts of the concert have you been gatekeeping? 😭

Everytime I watch Yechan perform that solo (or every other solo tbh), I always think "I NEED TO BE ABLE TO PLAY THIS!!" and then realise that I probably won't be able to anytime soon 😭😭. It would be SO much easier if I had sheet music to read, but I can never find any (I guess actually practicing would also help ahaha). I think I need to start a petition to get Mystic to release sheet music, how amazing would that be??

It makes me so happy that more people are starting to listen to Lucy! I love the amount of times "I ascended" is getting used because that is definitely my experience of listening to their songs ahaha

(loving all your new themes btw, they've been very pretty!)

HI VIOLET!! honestly just the usual except I’ve been talking more seriously with my mom about replacing our piano WHICH IM NOT HAPPY ABT AT ALL but it’s also so necessary at this point. I’m preparing for my exam in April rn and the pedal like ?? squeaks?? whenever I press it like omg I can’t deal w this much longer. and I alr know abt the cracked soundboard in the piano so it’s just problems adding onto the other. we really need a new piano so we’re gonna look out for used ones and hopefully we can find one I rly like (cause I’m so attached to my piano :( I don’t want to let her go)

WELL I recorded like 98% of the concert or so, SO I HAVE A LOT A LOT of clips that I haven’t shared. but I am very happy to share them :)) the concert timeline was: soundcheck, intro+rolling rolling, intro+knowhow, member introduction (basically sangyeop’s sexy English time), one by one, straight line, talking time (including sangyeop overjoyed at how many water bottles he had to douse walwals in later on), flowering, haze (im going through the vids to get this timeline right for you AND THE VOLUME AT WHICH I SCREAMED WHEN HAZE STARTED I cant even blame past zanna cause it’s still my fav song), talking (ft wonsang saying he’s a bit shy and me melting in real time), snooze, jogging, talking (ft sangyeop and gwangil joking abt all the things they’re going to do when they leave the stage), yechan and wonsang duo merry go round of life, sangyeop and gwangil coming back w popcorn (and sangyeop giving some to walwals lmao), sangyeop on the drums (which was so funny and cute he joked around w gwangil a bit before gwangil began his solo stage), gwangil solo stage he performed nan chun by so soseon, and then his own solo song would you dance with me?

I interrupt this rundown of the concert to share this clip which was way too cute when I rewatched it. sangyeop doing the drum part w his mouth instead of the actual sticks and Wonsang being SO CUTE in the spinning chair and his little giggle and KDJDKAD VI I AM NOT OKAY

anyway moving on after that they did the only exception by paramore, counting stars by one republic (this stage in particular I was SO TIRED my body was giving up on me so I went to sit, the vid is not the best but the vocals were incredible so still would love to share it’s one of my fav stages from the concert actually I could cry listening to their vocals back lmao), talking, hero, unbelievable, talking, intro+I got u, intro+hot!, talking, boogie man, talking (ft wonsang hearts w me!!), you’re right, talking, intro+flare, ending, talking+phototime+touching wonsangs bass+getting yechan’s bow etc etc, end of show

so yeah I’d be happy to share any clips that you’re interested in seeing!!! just need to know what you’d like hehe. also if you have discord it might be easier for me to send the videos there than post on tumblr cause tumblr sometimes takes forever to upload them 😭😭 if you do my username is zanna.exe and you can add me!!

I KNOW OMG I SO SO GET YOU with any song that has piano in Lucy’s discography *cough colorless* I AM ITCHING TO LEARN TO PLAY IT LIKE I WOULD GENUINELY COMBUST IF I DIDNT LEARN IT THAT SECOND but there’s never any sheet music and I hate it. if mystic did sell them then I would buy it SO FASTT like genuinely 😭😭😭 I need it so bad

I know!!! This past few weeks has been lucy heaven on my blog I’ve had like 3 moots all ask for recs and get into them which is just so lovely to see. Especially for lucy being my ults and also the most nugu ult of them all, but ALSO being the group that has the music I relate to and love the most. they’re the group I’m most connected to musically and emotionally. Whenever I need to cry I watch Lucy stages, whenever I need to cheer up i watch lucy stages, whenever I need to laugh I watch lucy moments, like they are just everything I need and everything I love so I adore seeing new ppl find joy in them the same way I do

thank you so much!!! I’ve been super indecisive on themes and just been wanting to change them up a lot LMAO as if I’m not already a serial theme changer. I really want a wonsang theme or just a lucy theme in general sometime soon as well cause I miss my boogie man theme badly. maybe something floral and pretty for march/april spring we’ll see!!

#inbox　　❀˖°#moots　　❀˖°#violet　　❀˖°#I literally started answering this ask a minute after u sent it in #like 43 seconds actually LMAO #and now it’s been like 40 minutes of just me typing this #cause I had to go back and scroll through the videos #I love sharing concert clips so pls let me know what else you’d love to see #I have at least 2 hours of footage probably I rly did not put my phone down much (I’m so glad I chose to film as much as possible)

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gumnut-logic · 5 years ago

Text

One Wednesday Night

balter (v.) - to dance artlessly, without particular grace or skill but usually with enjoyment. (from these wonderful prompts)

Just a random fluffy scene that got a little out of control. I claim no sanity.

Spoilers & Warnings: Fluff, alcohol, 3924 words.

Many thanks to @scribbles97 for the read through and for putting up with my crazy.

I hope you enjoy it :D

The man could sing if he wanted to, but that was a rare thing. He could dance with the grace of any ballroom dancer, his rhythm and style even outshining his eldest brother, Mr Lady-swooner himself.

Music was part of Virgil’s soul.

So, what happened late one Wednesday night after one too many rescues and ten too many drinks was quite surprising to them all.

They were all exhausted, but none wanted to sleep. They wouldn’t admit it, but there was fear in what they might find behind closed eyelids after such a shitty day, so they just sat together.

At first it was quiet. One or two words, fragmented debrief, until Virgil put an end to it and demanded John come home. Now!

Fifteen minutes later, the middle brother, just as exhausted as the rest, slunk into the living room and made a seat his own.

But there was little talking, each caught up in their own thoughts.

“Screw this.” Gordon jumped to his feet. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.” And he disappeared around the corner.

“John, have you eaten.”

Turquoise darted in his direction. “Have you?”

A blink and Scott realised he hadn’t. He had been too occupied keeping track of tired brothers. “No.” Honestly, he wasn’t hungry.

“Then you understand.”

A glare in his brother’s direction. John just turned away.

Scott’s lips thinned, but then his attention was taken by Alan, who was slowly tipping sideways on his couch, eyelids drooping. “Alan, you should go to bed.”

“Don’t wanna. Wanna stay with you guys.” His head landed on the couch cushion and two seconds later he was snoring.

Scott sighed.

Scott just stared at the pile of food.

“Well, that’s the healthy option.” Virgil’s voice was pure sarcasm.

“Do you really care?” Honestly, Virg.

“Not really, but the principle is there.”

Scott rolled his eyes. Just in time for Gordon to reappear with half his alcohol stash, several of John’s beers and whisky. Glorious, golden whisky.

Now that was a very good idea.

What happened after the appearance of the alcohol involved a movie Scott didn’t pay much attention to, far too much carbohydrate…c’mon, caramel popcorn, yes…and a lot of alcohol.

“Who gave John the remote?!”

“I did.” The feminine AI’s voice danced through the room in amusement.

“Eos! That’s cheating!”

She giggled. “I thought Gordon was cheating when he stuck it in his drink.”

Scott turned to his aquanaut brother who was dressing the sleeping Alan’s hair with popcorn. “Gordon!”

“What?!” The cocktail in his hand had an umbrella and a remote control garnishing it.

“You drowned the remote.”

“Huh?” He looked at his drink. “Oh.” And he pulled it out of the concoction and started licking it clean.

“Augh.”

A blur of red plaid and Virgil snatched the gadget from Gordon’s fingers and flicked it into the nearest pot plant.

Gordon appeared forlorn for its absence for a whole second before turning to his drink and sculling it all in one go.

“Gordon!” This time it was Virgil yelling his name.

The aquanaut had blue curacao for lipstick. “What?!” It was a direct echo of his same exasperated response moments earlier.

“Take it easy.”

“I don’t want to take it easy. I’m having fun.” With that he grabbed a bottle and dumped something red into the same glass with the blue, resulting in a rather unpleasant purple.

Scott groaned.

Which only earned him an assessing stare from Virgil.

A sigh. “Relax, Virgil. We’re home, we’re safe. Let your hair down a little.”

He was going to regret those words later.

The stare turned into a glare, but moments later, Gordon was ribbing Virgil about drinking and somehow he got under the engineer’s skin because there was a drinking contest.

Unfortunately for Gordon, swimmer’s physique or not, apparently Virgil was more brawn and could simply just absorb the stuff.

Gordon ended up snoozing in a sea of popcorn beside Alan.

John started giggling.

Scott raised an eyebrow at the small pyramid of empty beer bottles beside his space brother.

“How many have you had?”

“It’s a tetrahedron. Work it out.” John placed a single bottle at the top of the pyramid and smirked at Scott.

This was definitely a very bad idea.

His own whisky glass was only half empty. He needed to fix that.

It was warm going down.

Gordon started snoring, loudly.

“Okay, that’s it. Time for bed.”

“Don’t wanna go to bed.” Virgil put on the soppiest puppy dog face Scott had ever seen.

John cracked up laughing.

Oh god. “No, bed, now.”

“Okay.” And Virgil stood up.

And took a quick step to the left, then the right, before managing to stabilise himself somewhat upright, but listing slightly to one side.

It was that moment that the movie playing on the holoprojector burst into music.

Music? What the hell were they watching. He stared up into a haze of rebooted retro nineteen fifties and a song about a car and lightning.

“Ooh, I like this one.”

What?

And Virgil was suddenly dancing. Well, it could be considered dancing in some circles, but it mostly consisted of a lot of poorly coordinated butt wiggling and a lot of horizon pointing arms.

The jumping on the couch was really not called for.

“Virg?”

But his brother was lost to the music and dancing his heart and his coordination all out.

“C’mon, Scott, get up and boogie!”

Of course, Virgil was loud enough to wake Gordon, who took one look at Virgil and fell off the couch.

There was far too much butt wiggling happening.

“Virg, come down from there.”

He was completely ignored.

Scott needed more alcohol.

The bottle of golden oblivion smiled at him.

Screw it.

He wasn’t quite sure what happened next, but the result was a broken lamp and Gordon on the floor laughing hard enough to break a rib.

“Eos, play Jailhouse Rock.” John managed that between giggles. Scott idly noticed that the tetrahedron had become modern art and was attempting to defy the laws of physics.

It failed with a smash and rolling of bottles two minutes later.

And Virgil was still dancing.

Classic Elvis Presley at full volume, enough to wake up every lifeform in the caldera.

The butt wiggling had morphed into hip waggling and some kind of leg shaking that threatened to faceplant his brother on the floor.

“Virg, please get off the couch.”

There was something in his brother’s deep brown eyes, something beyond the alcoholic haze, something desperate, something…sad.

Scott found himself grinning in return.

John said something half drowned out by the music and the room was suddenly filled with an old dance favourite from his teens.

Virgil actually let off a laugh and moved into a sloppy dance routine from their childhood.

Scott couldn’t help himself and at some point, he just let go.

-o-o-o-

Alan woke from one of the weirdest dreams of his life. It involved music and Thunderbird Three dancing to a beat, her arms waving about.

It took him a moment to work out exactly why.

The dream was saner than reality. Scott and Virgil were standing on one of the couches…dancing.

Frantic eyes located his two other brothers.

John was sitting on the floor beside a pile of empty beer bottles. He had a dob of cake frosting on one eyebrow.

That left Gordon.

The strawberry blond was sitting on the floor in front of Alan’s couch.

“Gords? What’s going on?”

Gordon turned around and a soft smile curved his lips. “Big bros are letting their hair down.” The music suddenly paused and Gordon sat up straighter. “Eos, Dance Party 2054.”

More music erupted from the overhead speakers and vibrated the glass walls.

Alan found himself bopping to the beat.

Virgil climbed up off the couch and onto the hardwood floor, apparently so he could really let loose. His plaid shirt was undone and swirling around him as he moved.

It was an odd sight.

“Are they okay?”

Gordon’s voice was quiet. “No, but they will be.”

“What about John?”

Gordon shrugged as they both eyed the slouched astronaut. “Not sure he has it in him, fresh down from Five. He’s safer on the floor.”

“What about you?”

Gordon snorted. “I’m good.” He chucked down the remains of his drink before turning to face his little brother. “Wanna dance?”

Alan’s eyes widened. “How are you?” His eyes bounced to the empty bottles on the table, the stained glasses and limp umbrellas.

“What? Do you really think I can’t outlast Virg? The man is a drinking wimp. Only took two good ones to get him dancing with the fairies. Letting him win was the hard part.”

“Win what?”

He blamed sleep fog for the automatic yes that found him up and out of the sunken lounge, careening around the room laughing his ass off.

-o-o-o-

“John, what is happening?”

The astronaut blinked dopily. Maybe he had had one too many, but with each one, the voices faded just that little bit more. Calls for help he was desperate to answer.

And the silences that followed.

“They’re dancing, Eos.” It was obvious really.

“I’ve never seen them act like this before.”

“Doesn’t happen very often.” If ever. What was Scott trying to do with their father’s chair? “Eos, could you please close the doors to the balcony.” Gravity did suck after all.

He took another swig of Swedish beer as the giant glass doors slid smoothly closed.

“Can you access the room lighting?”

“One moment. I have control, John.”

“Good. Reference the 1970s disco movement and see if you can replicate any of the lighting involved.”

“FAB.”

Scott was pirouetting with his father’s chair in great rotating circles.

Gordon was attempting some kind of retro-breakdancing. Though at this point, the only thing that was going to be broken was pot plants.

Alan had a grin on his face and was the most coordinated of them all, jiggling along to the beat with a grin on his face.

Another figure appeared in the entrance to the room. It took John’s entire remaining intellect to realise that it was Grandma.

“What is the purpose of all this activity?” Eos’ voice was ever curious.

“It’s fun, Eos. An attempt at stress relief.” To wash the pain away.

-o-o-o-

Virgil was vaguely aware that he was being ridiculous, but he was beyond caring. The music pulsed through him and lifted him up. He just let it all go and rode the beat.

He was too exhausted to care about anything.

Except his brothers.

He always cared about his brothers.

Virgil spun and let the air stream around him.

Round and round and round.

Oh dear, too round.

He staggered to a halt, but the world kept going. He stumbled.

A hand caught him. “Take it easy, honey.”

The blur turned into his grandmother in her dressing gown.

“Grandma!” He drew her in to a massive hug. “I love you, Grandma.”

Her tiny arms hugged him back. “Virgil, you’re drunk.”

“No, no, I’m dancing. Wanna dance, Grandma?”

She was looking up at him with concern on her face.

“Smile, Grandma. You need to be happy.”

He needed to be happy.

She reached up and touched his face, her hand cupping his cheek.

He closed his eyes and leant into her palm as the beat throbbed around him.

-o-o-o-

The sight of his grandmother sobered Scott immediately. The chair beneath him drifted a few more feet before he brought it to a halt.

Grandma caught Virgil as he stumbled and they were hugging. Something about that simple gesture clenched his heart.

He clambered off the chair and staggered awkwardly. Okay, maybe he had a few too many. He forced himself upright, kicking some spine into his vertebrae and made his way over to his grandmother.

Virgil was all plaid and gentle eyes as she cupped his cheek.

“Grandma?” Scott’s voice wavered with his step.

Eyes as blue as his own turned towards him. “Scotty, you need to sit down before you fall down.”

He frowned. He had a chair a moment ago. He looked around.

A hand caught his cheek and drew his gaze back to his grandmother and those blue eyes.

A red arm wrapped around him and drew him in. “Scott, you are my big brother.” The statement was declared with so much love as he was pulled sideways into Virgil.

They almost fell in a heap. It was Grandma who steadied them.

“You boys need to go to bed.” A concerned frown and she called out to the ceiling. “Eos, kill the light show and the music.”

The silence that fell was so sudden, Scott almost fell with it.

Virgil stumbled and Scott held him upright.

Grandma straightened. “It is time for bed, young man.”

The dopey aquanaut looked up at his grandmother and squinted. “Grandma, is that you?”

She ignored him. “Alan, come here, sweety.”

Alan, who was yawning fit to break his jaw, wandered over as bidden.

“Yes, Grandma?”

She snaked an arm around his waist and drew him in. “Time for bed, Allie.”

Virgil reached out an arm to snag his littlest brother, but suddenly Gordon was in his way and he got an arm full of fish instead.

Virgil did not seem to mind. “Gordo! My wingman, my copilot, my fish in a barrel.” Red plaid squeezed tight. “Love you, bro.”

Scott blinked. That was three. Where was the other one?

A glance at the lounge found John sprawled on the floor up against one of the lounges, fast asleep.

“Oi, Johnny!”

Scott jumped at Virgil’s yell and so did John. Bleary turquoise peered in their direction.

“Get over here, little brother, group hug!”

Wha-? Scott’s head was so foggy.

But John was stumbling to his feet. Something told him this was a dangerous thing. As the astronaut wobbled over, Scott moved to help him, but found himself snagged by cast iron red plaid.

Fortunately, Alan picked up on his fellow spaceman’s difficulties and hurried over to give him a hand. A few moments of wobbly astronaut and John was standing with them.

Virgil immediately reached for him. “Johnny!”

Unfortunately, he didn’t let go of either Gordon or Scott when he did and, damn, Virgil was strong. They ended up in a huddle, Alan and Grandma awkwardly caught up with them.

“I love you guys.” Virgil’s voice was muffled up against John’s shirt. Scott had caught Grandma and Gordon had grabbed Alan. Virgil had his face mushed into John’s shoulder.

John looked like he had stuck a finger in an electrical socket and didn’t know why his hair was on fire.

“We love you, too, Virgil.” It was Gordon’s voice, muffled by Alan’s hair.

Something lodged in Scott’s throat and he found himself hugging the pieces of brother and grandmother he could reach.

Apparently, it was something they all needed, because they stayed there holding each other for a full minute.

Just long enough for Virgil to fall asleep against John’s shoulder and let off a snore. It took Gordon and Scott to catch him to prevent them all from falling in a heap.

The family went their separate ways.

“C’mon, Virg, not much further.” Scott was ever so glad of that as his head was still trying to swim against the current.

A hand smoothed crazed hair back into its more familiar style and Scott unfolded from the bed.

A glass of water appeared on the bedside table and he turned to find his grandmother looking at him fondly. He blinked. He had forgotten she was there.

She held out a hand and as he took it, he was drawn into a quiet hug. She was ever so little up against his bulk. “C’mon, Scotty, let’s get you to bed.”

“I’m okay, Grandma. I need to check on the others.”

She sighed, but let go a single nod.

As they left Virgil’s rooms, she didn’t leave his side.

A visit to John’s room found him in bed, but the wrong way around, his feet on the pillow, his head hanging off the end. It took some prodding and yanking, but Scott re-orientated him. A quick check of the gravity support systems in his clothing were functioning properly – the alcohol probably wasn’t helping. Grandma materialised with another glass of water which was placed on John’s bedside table.

Quietly. “Eos, are you monitoring, John’s systems?”

“Of course. He is well, Commander. Do not concern yourself. I will watch him.”

Scott’s eyes closed without permission and he had to force them open again. “Thank you, Eos.”

The AI didn’t answer.

Grandma took his arm and led him from the room.

A check on Alan found him on the floor, but that was nothing unusual. Gordon had probably dumped him there. The kid preferred the rug to his bed and Scott meant to talk to him about it, but…life.

Gordon had fallen asleep in the corridor outside his room.

Dragging fish was considerably easier than dragging two hundred pounds of engineer.

Scott threw Gordon onto his bed and covered him up. Fingers brushed hair off his face.

Scott sighed again and had to prevent himself from curling up beside his brother.

“C’mon, Scotty, your turn.”

Scott mumbled something even he didn’t fully comprehend and let his grandmother lead him out of his brother’s rooms. One of the aquariums blurped at him as he walked past.

And finally, he was in his own rooms and his own bed. Grandma handed him a glass of water. He guzzled it before burying his face in his pillow.

He opened his eyes as a hand brushed through his hair. “We love you, Scotty. Don’t you ever forget that.”

He blinked slowly and managed a smile up at his grandmother, but her fingers caressed the side of his face, forcing his eyes to close again and he drifted off.

His dreams were kind.

And full of loving family.

-o-o-o-

FIN.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #Virgil Tracy #Scott Tracy #Alan Tracy #Gordon Tracy #John Tracy #Grandma Tracy #Sally Tracy #fluff

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avery-oliver · 5 years ago

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"We have to be visible. We should not be ashamed of who we are. We have to show the world that we're numerous. There are many of us out there.”- Sylvia Rivera

Side A:

I Know A Place - MUNA // All the Time - Zara Larsson // Meet the Parents - Kim Petras // I’m Coming Out - Diana Ross // Be My Love - La Bouche // Please Don’t Go - Double You // Marry The Night - Lady Gaga // All For You - Janet Jackson // Square Biz - Teena Marie // The Edge of Glory - Lady Gaga // Can’t Get You Out of My Head - Kylie Minogue // I Love It - Icona Pop ft. Charli XCX // Dancing On My Own - Robyn // Primadonna - MARINA // Work Bitch - Britney Spears // I Didn’t Just Come Here to Dance - Carly Rae Jepsen // You and I - Lady Gaga

Side B:

Money - Leikeli47 // Bling Bling - Junglepussy // Wish You Would - Mykki Blanco ft. Princess Nokia // I Got It - Charli XCX ft. Brooke Candy, Cupcakke & Pablo Vittar // Werkin’ Girls - Angel Haze // Wut - Le1f // Muthaleficent - Babymutha ft. Swerzie // Tommy - Tommy Genesis // Crayons - Cupcakke // Give Her Some Money - Malibu Mitch // Everything Nice - DreamDoll // LMK (Remix) - Kelela ft. Princess Nokia, Jungepussy, Cupcakke, Ms. Boogie

listen here

“If I didn’t define myself for myself, I would be crunched into other people’s fantasies for me and eaten alive.” – Audre Lorde

In the early morning hours, I sit out on my porch and I can almost feel the cool gust of air hit me the moment I’d step outside of the club into the 4am New York City quiet. I can see the line of wristbands up my arm after starting at Cubbyhole then Henriettas, ultimately ending up in Brooklyn with a group of people that seemed far cooler than I would ever be. I can still feel the release of freedom I felt my first weekend at NYU, the first time I found a solid group of queer friends, the first time I felt comfortable walking down the street with my rainbow t-shirt or the booty shorts my friend Devon would make me wear. I became another person there. A more aware person, a politically active person, a person who realized that my identity wasn’t just about knowing who I liked but about knowing the history that allowed me to be in those spaces. I had spent so much time at home hiding and hating myself that to be in a place where I felt celebrated, where I learned about the trans women of color who did more than throw bricks, they pushed past boundaries and fears to boldly be who they always were. It was the first real time I realized my privilege, the first time I learned terms that they would never teach in a classroom, the first time I learned that even my own view of queerness was so centered around the experience I had back home.

My first Pride in New York City, I started day drinking with a few NYU friends and as the day went on we made more and more friends, until I found myself in the middle of a club in Brooklyn having a gay Dominican guy from Washington Heights teach me how to shake my ass. Or at least as much of an ass as I actually have. I’ve always been a terrible dancer but they helped me find some kind of rhythm and even when I was terrible they hyped me up and when I was good it was twice as big. The culture, the music, the people, the feeling. It’s unmatched. The beauty of seeing people so securely in who they are, love, lust and enjoyment all around me. I had never been a party person, until I realized that it had partly been because I never felt comfortable as myself, I never felt free enough, I never felt like I could be exactly who I wanted. I’ve spent so much of my life being reserved, doing right by everyone that a moment of bliss on a dance floor made me feel like I was floating, made me feel less alone, made me feel like I was part of something more than just myself.

I can still remember the sight of the Brooklyn bridge passing by as I hopped in a cab at 4am back to my apartment. The buzz of the alcohol making my heart swirl with a warmth that made me so appreciative. New York had felt like a punishment at first but this act of embracing who I was felt like a little rebellion, felt like a fuck you to my parents who thought that it would tame me, thought that it would make me less of what I was. Instead I turned it into drunken singing on the A train platform and late Sunday brunches. I turned it into half smoked joints in the narrow streets of the west village and late night conversations with my future fiancee as we sat in the back of a dark bar with strong drinks and whispered our new dreams to each other. I turned it into running down Christopher street with my drag queen friends on the way to their gigs, learning the hard way that we would never, ever, be on time. I turned it into late night pizza at Joe’s while walking towards Chelsea Piers just to get that closeness to the water, just to realize how good it felt to be so far away.

New York City has a way of making you feel like someone and yet like no one at all. There’s something sweet about walking around the city and knowing that no one there could give a shit. In New York City, I was no one.

And it was the sweetest freedom I’ve ever known.

“It is untrue that bravery can be measured by a lack of fear. It takes guts to tremble. It takes tremble to love.” - Andrea Gibson

#about avery #playlist #needed something to get me in a better mood and been meaning to write this one for a while #i miss nyc and my fckn queers man fck this pandemic lol

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rt8815 · 5 years ago

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Bradbury...and Boogie-Woogie

Two years I’ve agonized over this piece. Two. Years. It’s kinda the reason I started writing this story out of order. Anyway, it’s one of those ‘filler’ chapters, I think they’re called. Not a CM Bingo piece, though I’m working on more of those atm.

Triggers: None, I think.

WC: 2,840

Before diving in, first read Let It Bleed, as it immediately precedes this one.

Bradbury…October 27, 2017

“Hey, New Girl! Welcome-welcome!” Garcia squealed happily, rolling a cart onto the sidewalk.

“Hi, Penelope. It’s great to meet you in person,” replied McKinley, lifting plastic containers off the concrete and placing them on the cart.

“You too, Kinley. Oh my gosh, you’re even cuter in the flesh. Love. Your. Hair.”

“Uh, th-thanks,” she stuttered, unsure how to take the compliment or politely ask the bubbly techie not to play with her amethyst locks. Then Garcia moved in for a hug. McKinley stepped back. “No, sorry. I’m kind of weird about hugs.”

“No need to apologize,” she insisted, pushing the dessert-laden cart through the door. Remembering their lively video chat from the other night, McKinley deduced that verbally and physically affectionate was Penelope’s natural state.

McKinley handed her ID to a grumpy man behind the front desk. “If we get to be friends, I’ll warm up to you,” she told Penelope, throwing her visitor’s badge around her neck.

Penelope’s eyes glinted mischievously. “We’ll definitely become friends. I’ve already decided. You’re a smol bean and you’re my baby now, no arguments,” she concluded as entered the elevator.

McKinley giggled. They chatted while the elevator climbed.

“So, you’ve got the hots for our Boy Genius,” Penelope mused aloud.

“What? No! No, it’s not like that.”

“Oh really, now? Doughnuts, cupcakes, a cake, and Season 10 of Doctor Who on Blu-ray, all to apologize because you accidentally grabbed a handful?”

McKinley’s face burned. “Did Agent Alvez tell you that? Son of a bitch!” she fumed, helping Penelope maneuver the cart into the hall.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” she reassured her. “These things happen.” Her lips pulled into an inquisitive smirk. “Okay, tell me - what’s he packing? We talkin’ Small Flat Rate Box, or Freight?”

McKinley’s eyes bugged behind her sunglasses. “Sweet Lord, why would you wanna know that?”

Penelope shrugged. “Reid’s always so buttoned up; however, I suspect he’s smuggling something impressive under those corduroys.”

“Yeah well, I’m not comfortable discussing that, so keep suspecting.” They rolled through the glass doors of the bullpen. “And to answer your original question: I don’t have the hots for him,” she stated simply as they came to a stop at Spencer’s desk, “and I’m not looking to date.”

“You guys are perfect for each other, though!” Penelope insisted. “You’re a lot alike. You’re both kind, nerd-funny, super smart, reserved…”

“Ha! Remember that last one when you’ve seen me drunk,” McKinley cautioned, opening the containers to check the decorations.

“Hey, it’s Twist ‘n’ Shout!”

She spun, hands on her hips, electricity crackling in her hair. Luke’s grin slipped at the death glare on her face, his coffee mug hovering midway to its destination. After a pregnant pause, McKinley responded.

“Fine, I’ll give you that one…Mocha Latte. Just know that I bite when I have to.” He raised his coffee-free hand in surrender, inching forward to inspect the desserts.

“Get away, you!” Penelope warned. “These are Spencer’s.”

Luke broke into a lopsided smile. “Oh, because of the ‘short and curlies incident’?”

McKinley thumped his arm with a stack of paper plates.

“Ouch,” he chuckled, no hint of pain in his voice.

“That was for telling people about the…awkwardness. Also, yes, it’s part apology, part ‘let’s be friends.’”

Luke raised a brow. “Friends? You got a free preview of the goods and you’re looking to be just friends?”

Her cheeks flushed. “Yes! He’s a lovely person and…I dunno. When we talked, my heart went all squishy and I knew my life would be greatly lacking without him as my friend.”

“Okay, just remember that opportunity gropes but once, Doc.”

“Alvez, why are you casually discussing sexual misconduct in the middle of the office?” McKinley turned to see a tall brunette woman approaching. She appeared formidable but caring.

“Ah, it’s Dr. Durand! That clears things up,” she laughed, extending a hand to McKinley. “I’m Emily Prentiss, welcome to the BAU.”

McKinley offered a small, awkward wave in return. Emily smiled knowingly.

“How beautiful!” she exclaimed, eyeing the sweet treats. “The attention to detail is remarkable!”

McKinley smiled bashfully. “Thank you so mu- wait, how did you know who I am?”

Emily tore her eyes from the cake. “Well, Penny mentioned your video chat, and Luke jumped in and told us about your encounter with Spencer,” she winked, making a fondling motion with her hand. McKinley’s face flushed yet again.

“Penny spilled about your plan to surprise Spencer, and we got curious. I had her run a background check on you.”

McKinley inhaled sharply, feeling exposed.

“Em!” Penelope squeaked in disapproval. “It’s not like that, love, it’s just- ”

“Spence is like a younger brother to us,” interjected another blonde. “We’re very protective of him. He’s been through a lot, so whenever somebody new enters his life, we’re concerned about their intentions. Jennifer Jareau, by the way. Call me JJ,” she said, not forcing a handshake.

“I understand,” McKinley sighed. “Spencer has that effect on people, doesn’t he?”

She hugged the plates to her chest. “One conversation with him and you realize, ‘He’s a precious cinnamon roll and must be protected at all costs!’ I assure you, that’s my only intention, JJ: to be his friend.”

“Well, that’s certainly a good start,” an older gentleman joined the conversation, pointing at one of the containers. “Chocolate frosted doughnuts with sprinkles are his favorite. It’s a bit clichéd, but there’s truth in the adage ‘the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.’ It follows; you’ve already had him by the b-”

“Rossi, stop! We’ve made enough jokes at her expense,” scolded a woman who introduced herself as Dr. Tara Lewis. “This looks exquisite. Do I smell coffee in the cake? Reid loves coffee.”

“Yes, and there’s plenty to share as soon as he’s had some. Where is he, anyway?”

Luke pointed outside the Bullpen. “He’s down the hall printing handouts for his seminar next month,” he said, sipping his coffee.

“He doesn’t email them?”

“Reid’s a bit of a technophobe,” explained yet another agent, Matt Simmons.

“He still insists on hard copies of case files,” added Penelope. “It broke his heart when we went totally digital.” She glanced over McKinley’s shoulder and grinned. “Speak of the Luddite devil.”

Everyone watched as Spencer staggered towards them, clutching a thick stack of papers. He stopped short when he saw the crowd milling around his desk.

Spencer smiled, confused. “McKinley? What are you doing here?”

“She comes bearing gifts, Big Brain,” Penelope winked. “Apology gifts.” The others avoided his gaze but couldn’t hide their sniggers. Then Spencer caught Luke’s eye.

“You told!” he grumbled, flinging the papers onto his desk.

“If I give y’all food, will you shut your traps about us touching each other’s fun places?”

“No.”

“Probably not.”

“Nope. Sorry, not sorry.”

“Heh, you’re new here, bean. You’ll learn.”

While they lined up to choose their treats, McKinley leaned closer to Spencer. “When does the hazing end?”

“They’ll get bored soon, but that’s when the pranking starts.” He bent forward to focus on the cake properly. “Ray Bradbury?”

“Yeah, Garcia said Halloween’s your favorite holiday, and I know you’re a voracious reader. I put two and two together and ta-da.”

“Let’s see…the lions are from “The Veldt,” and the flowers are from Dandelion Wine, but what’s this one?” he asked, pointing to a swing set and a sandbox.

“The Playground,” she replied, and they smiled at each other self-consciously.

“McKinley, did you make all of this by hand?” asked JJ, marveling at the miniature sculptures.

“Most of it, except my friend Taylor painted the lions, and the chocolate TARDISes on the cupcakes came from a mold.” She popped open another container, revealing police boxes, each wrapped with a Fourth Doctor’s scarf and set in galaxy frosting. “Oh, and I bought the Jelly Babies online.”

“Would you consider making birthday cakes? My boys would love these.”

“Sure thing,” McKinley agreed, sitting in the chair Spencer brought her.

“Sooo, Reid, what are you gonna do for Kinley?” Garcia interjected.

“She’s right, Spence,” JJ concurred, sneaking an extra cupcake. “You’re not innocent in all this.”

Behind her, Luke held two doughnuts, squeezing them suggestively and mouthing ‘honka-honka.’

McKinley scowled at him. “What’re you, twelve?” Turning to Spencer, she continued. “I’d choose a book or record shop, but you don’t owe me a thing.”

“Oh-oh-oh,” Garcia enthused. “Then after, you could watch Who together at your place. He doesn’t have a TV,” she whisper-yelled.

Shaking her head, McKinley checked her phone. “Sorry, time for me to go.”

“Nooo,” Garcia pouted. “Hang with us!”

“Tempting, but I have to meet friends at some bar named…O’Keeffe’s?”

McKinley swore Garcia’s squeal of delight broke the sound barrier.

“That’s where we’re going! We’re all gonna get smashed on pumpkin-y, fall-themed grownup drinks together! Yes!”

…And Boogie-Woogie

The team kept an eye out for McKinley at O’Keeffe’s and were surprised to hear her shout out to them from the stage. She introduced the team to her bandmates following their final set, which consisted mostly of Tom Petty songs as a memorial of sorts, though McKinley couldn’t resist adding The Rolling Stones’ “Fingerprint File” at the end.

They talked late into the night getting to know each other. McKinley sat transfixed as the team regaled her with stories about their cases, one of which revolved around what they called a Vengeful Cinderella.

“Really? With her stilettos? Yikes!” she grimaced, sipping her drink.

“Yeah, but Spence was able to bring her in quietly by playing into her fantasy, acting as Prince Charming to her Cinderella. Got down on one knee, slipped her shoe back on and everything.”

McKinley threw Spencer an appraising look.

“I can see that working. He fits the bill.”

“He also gave me a new appreciation for the original, unsanitized versions of fairy tales. See, I felt that children ought to be protected from harsh realities, but Spence explained that the tales’ intended purpose was to allow kids to safely confront their fears.”

McKinley cocked her head in thought.

“Actually, the intent of those particular versions was to punish women - through some combination of marriage, rape, bodily mutilation and or death - simply for being women, because the Brothers Grimm were a pair of angry, bitter, he-man woman-hatin’, misogynist prick bastards.”

She took a drink and drew a breath before continuing, waving her hand for emphasis.

“Meanwhile, historian Franz Xaver von Schönwerth traveled around Bavaria, transcribing the stories directly from the very people who’d kept them alive in the oral tradition: servants, peasants, laborers - many of them women - rather than reframing them within his own worldview.”

She breathed in again, oblivious to the team’s stares.

“These fairy tales had strong, independent female protagonists in leadership positions. They were the ones having adventures, slaying dragons and rescuing men! Yes, the stories’ purpose was to help children navigate life’s challenges and prepare them for the adult world,” McKinley clarified, “but not at the expense of women’s agency and autonomy.”

Her gaze shifted to Spencer, whose mouth had dropped slightly.

“Unfortunately, Grimms’ Fairy Tales garnered all the attention. Fast-forward and now we have watered down, artificially flavored, saccharine animated films teaching kids that girls are helpless and need saving, and that the boys who rescue the girls are entitled to them. It’s just one more way the film industry has contributed to toxic masculinity and rape culture. Thanks, Disney, I hate it,” she concluded.

McKinley returned to her drink for a few moments before realizing the booth had fallen silent.

“Oh boy, there are two of them now,” Emily snorted.

McKinley scrunched her face in confusion. “Two what?”

“Spence rambles too,” said JJ, in a tone that conveyed mild annoyance and embarrassment at the behavior, almost as though she were apologizing for him.

McKinley frowned at her. She had seemed nice enough in the Bullpen earlier.

“He’s gotten better about it over the years, though,” she added, patting his shoulder.

The misplaced pride grated on McKinley’s nerves.

“Asphinctersayswhat?” She deliberately slurred her words, downing the last of her drink.

“What?” asked JJ.

“Exactly,” McKinley murmured, eyes fixed on her glass.

Before JJ could ask again, Spencer spoke.

“How had I not heard of Schönwerth before?” he wondered aloud, sounding disappointed in himself.

McKinley perked up. “I can lend you my copy of The Turnip Princess if you’d like. It’s a collection of his work.”

“Yeah, definitely!” he said eagerly. “I’m always excited to learn something new.”

Luke leaned around Matt to join the exchange. “I’ll have to buy a copy myself. I read Grimm’s as a kid but I hate to think I only knew biased versions. Schönwerth’s sound much better.”

…

“I appreciate the ride home, Luke,” McKinley called from the backseat.

“Me too. Just don’t get used to hearing those words pass my gorgeous lips, Newbie.”

“No problem, happy to do it,” he answered, laughing at Garcia’s drunken antics.

Under the cranked-up radio, McKinley addressed Spencer.

“Thanks for your text that morning after the park. I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

“Thank you for insisting on the wellness check.” He paused, fiddling with his messenger bag and smiling thoughtfully. “You know what? I’m glad we met.”

“Hey, is this the right place?” asked Luke.

McKinley peered through the window.

“6565, yeah that’s the one,” she confirmed as Luke parked.

Penelope waddled across the driveway.

“I have to see your tiny house - the outside I mean, since I already got a video tour of the inside. Guys, it. is. Adorable,” Penelope gushed.

“I thought you lived with Taylor and Jaimie,” said Spencer, pointing to the porch.

“I’m parked out back,” McKinley explained, unlocking the gate.

Penelope gasped. “I almost forgot! Can we see your baby too?”

“Absolutely! He loves meeting new people.”

Luke closed the gate behind them, carrying McKinley’s guitar. “Wait, what? You have a son?”

“Weeell, sort of…” McKinley twirled around, landing on her knees, arms spread out.

“Boogie, baby! Come to Mamma!” she bellowed.

A multicolored mass of fur burst through the door and made a blurry beeline for her, knocking her fully onto the ground.

“I missed you too, buddy!” she cried as the dog assaulted her face with kisses. Sitting up, McKinley faced him towards the group.

“Look! I brought new friends. Boogie, this is Luke, Penny, and Spencer. Guys, this is Boogie.”

“Boogie?”

“Yes, Mocha Latte, Boogie. Short for Boogie-Woogie, which comes from the Bantu phrase ‘mbuki-mvuki.’ It means ‘to dance wildly, to the point of ecstasy.’ I didn’t have a name picked out when I brought him home, but when I put my music on shuffle, the first song was John Lee Hooker’s “Boogie Chillen’.” He started shaking his butt and tapping his feet. No other name would’ve sufficed.”

He approached Luke, slowly at first, then promptly shoved his snout into the man’s crotch.

“Boogie! Manners! I raised you better than that.”

“That’s okay, I know it’s the dog version of shaking hands.” Luke knelt to give him more attention. “You’re just introducing yourself, aren’t you? Yeah. You probably smell Roxie, huh buddy.”

“You have a furbaby too?”

“Yeah, a Belgian Malinois. What’s Boogie?”

“A Border Aussie. Mom was a working Border Collie and Dad was a show Australian Shepherd. He got Mommy’s smarts and Daddy’s derpiness.”

Penelope bent over to scratch Boogie’s ears, surrendering herself to sniffs and kisses. “If you two don’t have playdates at the park, I’ll dognap them and take them there myself.”

Boogie seemed to wag his assent, shuffling over to Spencer and nosing his hand.

“N-nice doggie,” he stammered, gingerly patting Boogie’s head.

McKinley stood, swaying slightly on her way to the door. “I better grab that book while I’m thinking about it. Keep our guests entertained, buddy.”

They heard her rummaging inside, talking to herself. “You were here just the other - aha!”

She reappeared, waving a tattered paperback. “It��s dog-eared and coffee-stained,” she sighed apologetically, “but it’ll read.”

“Well-worn is high praise for a book. It shows how much it’s been loved,” Spencer reasoned, climbing the stairs to the small porch.

“Take your time with it. Some things aren’t meant for speed-Reiding,” she joked, handing him the book.

A comfortable silence settled between them for a minute.

“The swing set on the cake is an inedible figurine, by the way. That night, sitting on the real swing…I dunno, it seemed to comfort you. Now you have one to keep on your desk.”

McKinley couldn’t decide if ‘impressed’ or ‘perturbed’ better described Spencer’s expression in that moment.

“It’s late, guys. We should head out,” Luke yawned, handing McKinley her guitar.

“Night-night, Lovely! We’re having that knitting bee at my place next weekend, just us.”

“Sounds great, Penny, but I’m nervous about knitting in the round. It’s intimidating.”

They waved their goodbyes as they returned to the gate. “Don’t worry, Auntie Penelope will teach you all she knows.”

McKinley retreated into the warmth of her home. She climbed into bed, beaming to herself.

“A whole new group of friends. Imagine that, Boogie! I’d only dared hope for one…”

—

“There are no faster or firmer friendships than those between people who love the same books.”Irving Stone

@illegalcerebral @dreatine @cynbx

Others let me know if you’d like to be tagged.

#Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfic #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x oc #oc fics deserve love too

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luvneedsnosyt · 5 years ago

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My Favorite Albums of 2020 So Far

Here is my list of my favorite albums half-way through 2020

You can find my list of my favorite albums of 2019 here And my list of my favorite EPs of 2019 here

My Monthly top albums lists from 2020: January, February, March, April, May

Keep in mind I didn’t include albums released after June 12th on this list

Honorable Mention:

Blanche - EMPIRE Genre: Indie Pop

Proof: Empire / Till We Collide

Caroline Rose - Superstar Genre: Synth-Pop

Proof: Nothing’s Impossible / Someone New

Deante’ Hitchcock - BETTER Genre: Hip Hop

Proof: I Remember / I Got Money Now (Feat. J.I.D.)

dvsn - A Muse In Her Feelings Genre: R&B / neo-Soul

Proof: Dangerous City (Feat. Ty Dolla $ign & Buju Banton) / A Muse

Grimes - Miss Anthropocene Genre: Synth Pop / Electronic

Proof: Violence (w/ i_o) / idoru // Bonus: We Appreciate Power (BloodPop Remix) Feat. HANA

Halsey - Manic Genre: alt-R&B / Pop

Proof: You should be sad / Without Me // Bonus: Marshmello & Halsey - Be Kind / You should be sad (Tiësto Remix) / Graveyard (Axwell Remix) / Without Me (ILLENIUM Remix)

Illenium - ASCEND (Remixes) Genre: Electronic / Dance

Proof: Good Things Fall Apart (3LAU Remix) w/ Jon Bellion / In Your Arms (Alan Walker Remix) w/ X Ambassadors

Jason Ross - 1000 Faces // 1000 Faces (Remixes) Genre: Electronic / Dance

Proof: One That Got Away (w/ Dabin & Dylan Matthew) / 1000 Faces (w/ Dia Frampton) // Known You Before (Trivecta Remix) Feat. Emilie Brandt / Shelter (No Mana Remix) Feat. Melanie Fontana

KAYTRANADA - BUBBA Genre: alt-R&B / House

Proof: 10% (Feat. Kali Uchis) / Need It (Feat. Masego)

Lady Gaga - Chromatica Genre: Pop / Dance

Proof: Stupid Love / Replay

Låpsley - Through Water Genre: Indie Pop / Electronic

Proof: Ligne 3 / Womxn

Loote - heart eyes EP Genre: Indie Pop

Proof: This is How U Feel / All The Fucking Time // Bonus: teamwork., Loote & John K - Wasted Summer

Matoma - RYTME EP Genre: Electronic / House / Dance

Proof: Don’t Stop The Rhythm (Feat. Bryn Christopher) / Beside You (w/ Captain Cuts Feat. Georgia Ku) // Bonus: The Bender (The Him Remix) (w/ Brando) / Time To Go

Seven Lions - Find Another Way EP Genre: Electronic / Dance / Trance

Proof: Only Now (Feat. Tyler Graves) / Another Way (w/ April Bender) // Bonus: 3LAU - Tokyo (Seven Lions Remix) Feat. XIRA / Abaxis , Dimibo & Seven Lions - Half Of It

The Strokes - The New Abnormal Genre: Alternative / Rock

Proof: Brooklyn Bridge To Chorus / Not The Same Anymore

Tchami - Born Again / Buenos Aires EP Genre: Electronic / House / Dance

Proof: Buenos Aires / Proud (Feat. Daecolm) // Bonus: Proud (Steffan City Remix) Feat. Daecolm / Ghosts (Vowed Remix) Feat. Hana

We Are The City - RIP Genre: Rock / Alternative

Proof: Killer B-Side Music / Saint Peter

The List:

15. Alina Baraz - It Was Divine Genre: R&B / Soul

Proof: Morocco (Feat. 6LACK) / Endlessly / Off The Grid (Feat. Khalid) / More Than Enough

14. Harry Styles - Fine Line Genre: Alternative / Indie Pop

Proof: Watermelon Sugar / Adore You / Lights Up / Fine Line

13. Krewella - zer0 // zer0 (The Remixes Pt. 1) EP // zer0 (The Remixes Pt. 2) EP Genre: Electronic / Synth-Pop / Dance

Proof: Good On You (Feat. Nucleya) / Anxiety (Feat. Arrested Youth) / Ghost / Greenlights // Good On You (MOTi Remix) Feat. Nucleya / Greenlights (MADGRRL Remix) // Anxiety (Prince Fox Remix) Feat. Arrested Youth / Like We (BEAUZ Remix) Feat. Yung Baby & Alaya

12. iamnotshane - iamnotshane EP Genre: alt-R&B / Electronic

Proof: Afterlife / Security / Perfect / Right Now // Bonus: Afterlife (Michael Calfan Remix) / Perfect (Thomas Gold Remix) / Right Now (jackLNDN Remix)

11. Jack Garrett - Love, Death & Dancing Genre: R&B / Pop / Electronic

Proof: Time / Return Them To The One / Better / Circles

10. Charli XCX - how i’m feeling now Genre: Synth Pop / Dance

Proof: forever / enemy / i finally understand / anthems // Bonus: claws (Whethan Remix)

9. Buscabulla - Regresa Genre: Latin / Pop / Dance

Proof: Vàmono / El Aproeto / Mío / NTE

8. Purity Ring - WOMB Genre: Synth Pop

Proof: pink lightening / i like the devil / vehemence / stardew

7. Run The Jewels - RTJ4 Genre: Hip Hop

Proof: yankee and the brave (ep. 4) / JU$T (Feat. Pharrell WIlliams & Zach de la Rocha) / the ground below / a few words from the firing squad (radiation)

6. Shallou - Magical Thinking Genre: Electronic / Future Bass

Proof: Forget / Mutual Love (Feat. Zachary Knowles) / Older (Feat. Daya) / Good Together (Feat. Ashe) // Bonus: Older (Felix Cartel Remix) Feat. Daya / I Leave Again (w/ Petit Biscuit) / Jeremy Zucker & Chelsea Cutler - you were good to me (Shallou Remix)

5. The Weeknd - After Hours // After Hours (Remixes) EP Genre: alt-R&B

Proof: Heartless / Blinding Lights / In Your Eyes / After Hours // Blinding Lights (Chromatics Remix) Feat. Johnny Jewel / After Hours (The Blaze Remix) // Bonus: Blinding Lights (Major Lazer Remix)

4. Jonah Mutono - GERG Genre: alt-R&B / Soul

Proof: Shoulders / If You Mean It / The Low / Circulation

3. Phantogram - Ceremony Genre: Synth-Pop

Proof: Dear God / In A Spiral / Pedestal / Let Me Down

2. Childish Gambino - 3.15.20 Genre: Hip Hop / alt-R&B

Proof: Alogrhythm / Time (Feat. Ariana Grande) / 19.10 / 42.26

1. Tame Impala - The Slow Rush Genre: Synth-Pop / Alternative

Proof: Borderline / Breathe Deeper / Lost in Yesterday / It Might Be Time // Bonus: It Might Be Time (Louis The Child Bootleg)

Others:

Good: A Boogie wit da Hoodie - Artist 2.0, AceMoMa - A New Dawn [HOA007], Ada Lea - woman, here EP, Adrian Younge & Ali Shaeed Muhammad - Jazz Is Dead 001, Active Child - In Another Life, Aesop Rock - Freedom Finger [Music from the Game], Agnes Obel - Myopia, Alec Benjamin - These Two Windows, Alexandra Savior - The Archer, Allan Kingdom - Iddtfm EP, Allan Rayman - Christian, Allie X - Cape God, ALMA - Have You Seen Her?, Amber Liu - Rogue Rogue EP, Amber Liu - X EP, Andy Shauf - The Neon Skyline, Anna Burch - If You’re Dreaming, Anna Calvi - Hunted EP, Ant Saunders - BUBBLE EP, April - New Conditions EP, Ari Lennox - Shea Butter Baby (Remix EP), Arin Ray - Phases II EP, Atmosphere - Whenever, Audrey Mika - 5 A.M. EP, AWOLNATION - Angel Miners & the Lightning Riders, Bad Bunny - LAS QUE NO IBAN A SALIR, Baril - One More Rush EP, Baths - Pop Music / False B-Sides II, Banoffee - Look at Us Now Dad, Beach Bunny - Honeymoon, Becca Stevens - Wonderbloom, Best Coast - Always Tomorrow, Big Gigantic - Free Your Mind, Bishop Nehru - Nehruvian Tuesdays: Vol, 1, Bombay Bicycle Club - Everything Else Has Gone Wrong, Bongeziwe Mabandla - iimini, Boniface - Boniface, BOSCO - Some Day This Will All Make Sense EP, Brandon Banks - STATIC EP, Brent Faiyaz - Fuck The World, Bring Me the Horizon - Music to Listen to~Dance to~Blaze to~Pray to~Feed to~Sleep to~Talk to~Grind to~Trip to~Breathe to~Help to~Hurt to~Scroll to~Roll to~Love to~Hate to~Learn Too~Plot to~Play to~Be to~Feel to~Breed to~Sweat to~Dream to~Hide to~Live to~Die to~Go To EP, Buddy & Kent Jamz - Janktape Vol. 1, Calvin Harris - Love Regenerator 1 EP, Calvin Harris - Love Regenerator 2 EP, Calvin Harris - Love Regenerator 3 EP, Calvin Harris & Eli Brown - Moving EP, Cam’ron - Purple Haze 2, Caribou - Suddenly, Carly Rae Jepsen - Dedicated Side B, Car Seat Headrest - Making a Door Less Open, Charlotte de Witte - Return to Nowhere EP, Chelsea Cutler - How To Be Human, Chloe x Halle - Ungodly Hour, Christian Paul - Christian Paul EP, Christine and the Queens - La vita nuova EP, Chromeo - Quarantine Casanova EP, Clap! Clap! - Liquid Portraits, Cleo Sol - Rose in the Dark, Conor Matthews - Balloons EP, D Smoke - Bad Habits, DaBaby - BLAME IT ON BABY, Daecolm - Figur£$, Dan Deacon - Mystic Familiar, Day Wave - Crush EP, Delacey - Black Coffee, Delta Heavy - Only in Dreams (Remixes), Denzel Curry - UNLOCKED [Mixtape], Destroyer - How We Met, Diana Gordon - Wasted Youth, Dijon - How Do You Feel About Getting Married? EP, Diplo - Diplo Presents Thomas Wesley Chapter 1: Snake Oil, Dirty Projectors - Windows Open EP, Disclosure - Ecstasy EP, DJ BORING - Like Water EP, dj poolboi - it’s good to hear your voice, DJ Snake - Carte Blanche (Deluxe), Drake - Dark Lane Demo Tapes, DRAMA - Dance Without Me, Dreamville - Revenge of the Dreamers III : Director’s Cut, Dua Lipa - Future Nostalgia, Dua Saleh - Rosetta EP, Duke Dumont - Duality, Ebenezer - Bad Romantic II EP, Echosmith - Lonely Generation, EDEN - no future, Ekali - A World Away, Elah Hale - Room 206 EP, Ellie Winter - Yeah, No. EP, Empress Of - I’m Your Empress Of, Eric Bellinger - Hor D’oeuvres, Ethan Gruska - En Garde, Everything Is Recorded - FRIDAY FOREVER, Example - Some Nights Last For Days, Fiona Apple - Fetch The Bolt Cutters, Flatbush Zombies - now, more than ever EP, flora cash - Baby, It’s Okay, Four Tet - Sixteen Oceans, Fractures - EP III, Fred again.. - Actual Life EP, Freddie Gibbs & The Alchemist - Alfredo, Free Nationals - Free Nationals, Gabrielle Aplin - Dear Happy, Galantis - Church, Gengahr - Sanctuary, Georgia - Seeking Thrills, Gil Scott-Heron & Makaya McCraven - We’re New Again: A Reimagine by Makaya McCraven, Giveon - TAKE TIME, The Glitch Mob - Chemicals EP, GRiZ - bangers[5].zip EP, Grouplove - The Healer, GUM - Out In The World, Half Waif - The Caretaker, Hailee Steinfeld - Half Written Story EP, HAWA - the ONE, Hayley Kiyoko - I’m Too Sensitive For This Shit EP, Hayley Williams - Petals for Armor, Hayley Williams - Petals For Armor I EP, Hinds - The Prettiest Curse, HMLTD - West of Eden, Icarus - Unfold, Incubus - Trust Falls (Side B) EP, i_o - NRG 444 EP, Isaia Huron - Libbie, iyla - OTHER WAYS TO VENT, J Balvin - Colores, Jack Garrett - Love, Death & Dancing (Vol. 1) EP, Jack Garrett - Love, Death & Dancing (Vol. 2) EP, JACKBOYS & Travis Scott - JACKBOYS EP, Jacob Latimore - C3, Jadakiss - Ignatius, Jade Novah - Stages, James Smith - An EP, Japan, Man - Cautious EP, Jason Isbell and the 400 Unit - Reunions, Jauz - Dangerous Waters EP, Jay Electronica - A Written Testimony, Jeremy Zucker - love is not dying, Jessie Reyez - BEFORE LOVE CAME TO KILL US, Jhené Aiko - Chilombo, Jody Wisteernoff - Story of Light EP, JoJo - good to know, Joyner Lucas - ADHD, JOYRYDE - Brave, JP Saxe - Hold It Together EP, Justin Bieber - Changes, Kali Uchis - TO FEEL ALIVE EP, Kamaiyah - Got It Made, Kaskade - Redux 004 EP, Katie Gately - Loom, K CAMP - Kiss 5, Kehlani - It Was Good Until It Wasn’t, Kevin Ross - Audacity, Vol 1 EP, Kiana Ledé - KIKI, Kid Krow - Conan Gray, King Princess - Cheap Queen (Deluxe), Khushi - Strange Seasons, Khruangbin & Leon Bridges - Texas Sun EP, KIRBY - Sis. EP, K. Michelle - All Monsters Are Human, Knxwledge - 1998, Kodaline - One Day at a Time, Kygo - Golden Hour, Lane 8 - Brightest Lights, LA Priest - GENE, La Roux - Supervision, Laura Marling - Song For Our Daughter, Lauren Auder - two caves in EP, Lauv - ~how i’m feeling~, Lil Wayne - Funeral, Little Dragon - New Me, Same Us, Little Simz - Drop 6 EP, LL Cool J - Authentic, Long Beach Dub Allstars - Long Beach Dub Allstars, Lonr. - Land of Nothing Real, LOONY - JOYRiDE EP, Loud Luxury - Nights Like This EP, Louis Tomlinson - Walls, Lucky Daye - Painted (Deluxe Edition), Luke James - to feel love/d, Lupe Fiasco - Chill Spotlight EP, Mac Miller - Circles, Mahalia - Isolation Tapes EP, MAITA - Best Wishes, Major Lazer - Soca Storm EP, Mala Rodriguez - MALA, Manatee Commune - Crescent Lake EP, Mason Maynard - Lookin’ At Me EP, Medasin - RIPPLS, Megan Thee Stallion - Suga, Mick Jenkins - The Circus EP, Midwife - Forever, Mija - Desert Trash, MILCK - Into Gold EP, Moaning - Uneasy Laughter, Model Man - Beta Songs EP, Moses Sumner - græ, Mourning [A] BLKstar - The Cycle, Mura Masa - R.Y.C., mxmtoon - dawn, Nada Surf - Never Not Together, Naeem - Startisha, Nap Eyes - Snapshot of a Beginner, Nathaniel Rateliff - And It’s Still Alright, NNAMDÏ - BRAT, Noah Cyrus - THE END OF EVERYTHING EP, No Mana - Secret Level, Noel Gallagher’s High Flying Birds - Blue Moon Rising EP, Norah Jones - Pick Me Up off the Floor, Ohmme - Fantasize Your Ghost, Oh Wonder - No One Else Can Wear The Crown, Okay Kaya - Watch This Liquid Pour Itself, Omar S - You Want, Orion Sun - Hold Space For Me, The Overcoats - The Fight, PARTYNEXTDOOR - PARTYMOBILE, Perfume Genius - Set My Heart on Fire Immediately, Pet Shop Boys - Hotspot, Photay - Waking Hours, Pictish Trail - Thumb World, POLIÇA - When We Stay Alive, Poppy - I Disagree, Poolside - Low Season, Porches - Ricky Music, Post Animal - Forward Motion Godyssey, The Professionals (Madlib & Oh No) - The Professionals, Princess Nokia - Everything Is Beautiful, Princess Nokia - Everything Sucks, Pure X - Pure X, RAC - BOY, Ratboys - Printer’s Devil, Raveena - Moonstone EP, Real Estate - The Main Thing, Recondite - Dwell, renforshort - teenage angst EP, Ric Wilson & Terrace Martin - They Call Me Disco EP, Rileyy Lanez - Beautiful Mistakes EP, Rina Sawayama - SAWAYAMA, Riz Ahmed - The Long Goodbye, RJD2 - The Fun Ones, Robinson - Watching You EP, Ro James - MANTIC, Royce da 5’9” - The Allegory, Roy Woods - Dem Times EP, rum.gold - aiMless EP, Russ - SHAKE THE SNOW GLOBE, Ryan Beatty - Dreaming of David, Sam Lee - Oh Wow, San Fermin - The Cormorant I & II, SAYGRACE - The Defining Moments of SAYGRACE: Girlhood, Fuckboys & Situationlists, Sea Wolf - Through A Dark Wood, Selena Gomez - Rare, Sérgio Mendez - In the Key of Joy, Shabazz Palaces - The Don of Diamond Dreams, Shakey Graves - Look Alive EP, Ship Wrek - Mirror Mirror EP, Shoffy - Flash, Shopping - All or Nothing, Sleepy Hallow - Sleepy Hallow Presents: Sleepy For President, Slowly Slowly - Race Car Blues, Smino - She Already Decided [Mixtape], Soccer Mommy - Color Theory, Son Little - Aloha, Sorry - 925, Spacey Jane - Sunlight, Spencer Brown - Stream of Consciousness, Steve Aoki - Neon Future IV, Steve Spacek - House, Stormzy - Heavy Is The Head, STRFKR - Future Past Life, Striking Matches - Night EP, Subtronics - Scream Saver EP, Surfaces - Horizons, $uicideboy$ - Stop Staring at the Shadows, Sweaton Klank - Good Days, Sweet Whirl - How Much Works, Swing Ting - 100 Dances, Tank - While You Wait EP, Tate McRae - all the things i never said EP, TOKiMONSTA - Oasis Nocturno, Tom Misch & Yussef Dayes - What Kinda Music, TOPS - I Feel Alive, TORRES - Silver Tongue, Tory Lanez - The New Toronto 3, TeaMarr - Before I Spill Myself, Tech N9ne - Enterfear, Tech N9ne - ENTERFEAR Level 2 EP, Tennis - Swimmer, Tiësto - The London Sessions, Tink - Hopeless Romantic, Thao & The Get Down Stay Down - Temple, The-Dream - SXTPA, Theophilus London - Bebay, Thundercat - It Is What It Is, Tokio Myers - BLACK DAWN EP , Tourist - Wild (Remixes) EP, Trivecta - Everyday EP, T.R.U. & 2 Chainz - No Face No Chase, Two Feet - Pink, Tycho - Simulcast, T3 - Mr. Fantastic EP, Various Artists - Bad Boys For Life Soundtrack, Various Artists - Birds is Pray: The Album, Various Artists - Ophelia Presents: Advent Volume 1, Various Artists - The Turning (Original Motion Picture Soundtrack), Varsity - Fine Forever, Vistas - Everything Changes in the End, Vundabar - Either Light, Vybz Kartel - To Tanesha, Waxahatchee - Saint Cloud, WENS - Lemoncholy EP, William Black - Pages (The Remixes), Wiz Khalifa - The Saga of Wiz Khalifa, Wolf Parade - Thin Mind, X Ambassador - Belong EP, xylø - The Ganglands of My Heart EP, Yaeji - WHAT WE DREW 우리가 그려왔던, Yellow Claw - Never Dies, Yo Gotti - Untrapped, Youngr - Memories, Yumi Zouma - Truth or Consequences, Yves Tumor - Heaven To a Tortured Mind, Zeds Dead - We Are Deadbeats (Vol. 4), Zsela - Ache of Victory EP, 070 Shake - Modus Vivendi, The 1975 - Notes On A Conditional Form, 5 Seconds of Summer - CALM

Meh: ARTHUR - Hair of the Dog, The Black Lips - Sing in a World That’s Falling Apart, Bruno Major - To Let A Good Thing Die, Don Toliver - Heaven Or Hell, Eminem - Music To Be Murdered By, Frances Quinlan - Likewise, Future - High On Life, iann dior - I’m Gone, Jaunt - All In One, Jeezy - Twenty/20 Pyrex Vision EP, Lil Baby - My Turn, Lil Uzi Vert - Eternal Atake, Lil Uzi Vert - LUV vs. The World 2, Liquid Stranger - Ascension EP, Masiwei & Higher Brothers - Prince Charming, MHYSA - Navaeh, Nicolas Jaar - Cenizas, Rich The Kid - BOSS MAN, Social Club Misfits - MOOD // DOOM

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dustinreidmusic · 6 years ago

Text

Mac's Wild Years: By Michael Hurtt. Originally published in Offbeat Magazine

Mac Rebennack was born in 1941. Dr. John was born in 1967. What happened in between would color his whole musical career. "In New Orleans, everything--food, music, religion, even the way people talk and act--has deep, deep roots; and, like the tangled veins of cypress roots that meander this way and that in the swamp, everything in New Orleans is interrelated, wrapped around itself in ways that aren't always obvious."--Mac Rebennack In 1967, Malcolm Rebennack, Jr., exiled to the West Coast after a final drug bust that forbid him "to go to or through New Orleans," donned face paint, glitter and plumes and emerged as Dr. John the Night Tripper. His debut album Gris-Gris, and the stage shows that followed it, hawked a brand of psychedelic New Orleans R&B that mixed Mardi Gras Indian street chants with the primal gospel of holiness churches, the pianistic funk of Professor Longhair, heavy doses of hoodoo mysticism and nearly every shred of ritualistic South Louisiana culture that he'd absorbed during his decade and a half in the New Orleans music scene. From the drag shows at the Dew Drop Inn to the electric guitar evangelizing of the Reverend Utah Smith, it was a netherworld far stranger and more colorful than anything the pioneer of voodoo rock could have dreamed up. His role in it, though often been eclipsed by his later metamorphosis, established a reputation that would inform every aspect of his later musical life. Populated by high school greasers, high-rolling gangsters, down-and-out dope fiends and jive-talking record men, it was a world that had rapidly begun evaporating with the election of District Attorney Earling Carothers "Jim" Garrison in 1961. Prior to his widely known investigation into the Kennedy assassination, Garrison made his name locally by leading a systematic crack down on Crescent City vice that padlocked night clubs, juke joints and gambling dens. He often led the raids himself, pistol in hand, and by 1963 had managed to single-handedly dismantle the around-the-clock-party that had been Rebennack's entire young life. It had been one of after-hours jam sessions that lasted well into the next day, followed by "record dates" that produced aural snapshots that just reeked with crazed rock 'n' roll atmosphere: Jerry Byrne's frantic "Lights Out" and "Carry On," Roland Stone's narcotic anthem "Junco Partner," and Mac's own sinister, tremelo-charged "Storm Warning." "If we didn't have an artist and we had some studio time we'd just be the artist," Rebennack says of the sessions that produced hundreds of singles under monikers from Ronnie and the Delinquents to Drits and Dravy. The former's 1959 "Bad Neighborhood" was a greasy period piece if there ever was one. Meant to commemorate "the end of the zoot suit era," its gleeful lines of "Lie, steal, drink all day / good folks try to keep away," was an outright celebration of the lifestyle that Garrison sought to eliminate. And the Delinquents moniker was really no joke. "When we hired Ronnie Barron to be the singer with us, he was a li'l thug," says Rebennack, who'd had remarkably bad luck with great front men thus far. "We lost more singers to the penitentiary," he says, naming nearly everyone who preceded Barron with the exception of Frankie Ford. "Deadeye went to the joint for manslaughter, Jerry Byrne fell and went up for statutory rape, then Roland Stone went up on narcotics." Local disc jockey Jim Stewart once recalled that Rebennack's teenage bands "were always high, always late." But somehow through the haze, Mac would manage to simultaneously wear the hats of talent scout, A&R man, composer, producer, arranger, session musician, and when the need arose, singer. It might have stayed that way had Barron not refused to take on the Dr. John persona, which was invented with him in mind. Rebennack had started flirting with drugs when he was 12, already well seasoned in the art of skipping school and Mass to catch the street car to the early morning R&B jams at the Brass Rail. Since his father owned an appliance store that serviced jukeboxes, his childhood was spent wearing out stacks of hillbilly, jazz and blues 78s when they came off the boxes. Schooled on "Pinetop's Boogie Woogie" by his piano-playing aunt, he soon took up the guitar. By the time rock 'n' roll hit during his freshman year at Jesuit High School, he was more than ready. At Jesuit, Rebennack formed his first band the Dominos, with Henry Guerineau, then joined Guerineau's the Spades with whom he played "the Holy Father Circuit," as he refers it, starring at CYO dances from Redemptorist in the Irish Channel to Saint Anthony's in Mid-City. His teachers were current and future Fats Domino guitarists Papoose Nelson and Roy Montrell, who took an axe to young Mac's brand new green and black Harmony guitar. "He broke it all up, called my Pa and said, 'Mr. Rebennack, I ain't teachin' your son on that piece of shit. Go pick him out something nice.' I thought I was going to get killed. My Pa was hip, though. He knew it wasn't about the guitar as much as having that guitar to bring on the gig." Montrell took Mac to a pawnshop where he picked out a Gibson that he worked off lugging appliances for his dad. "My father didn't say a word til later," Rebennack wrote in his autobiography Under a Hoodoo Moon. "Apparently Roy had taken him aside and told him, 'I taught your son a lesson, that you don't get things because of the way they look. You get them on how they work." "He had a way of teaching that kept me coming back for more. During the lesson, he strung me along with ordinary riffs--but then right at the end he'd play some killer lick, his back turned so I couldn't see his fingers, and say, 'Hey, wanna learn that shit, kid? Come back next week. Now get the fuck outta here." Having already met studio owner Cosimo Matassa, who was a friend of his father, Rebennack spent his schooldays honing his songwriting skills. "Man, I used to go to school, I had a couple of comic books where the outside cover looked like a loose leaf binder. And I'd sit there in class reading that. They thought I was doing something in school but I'd be sitting there writing songs, ripping them off from Mad or Tales from the Crypt." He'd also begun hanging out at Warren Easton High School on Canal Street, a hotbed of hip musical activity that had already birthed New Orleans first bona-fide white rock 'n' roll band, the Sparks. It was here that he first encountered saxophonist Leonard James, whose band was blasting out a set of Sam Butera songs in the school gymnasium. It turned out that James knew all about the Brass Rail too, and dug the same hard-driving sounds as Rebennack did. They were soon rehearsing at James' house in the notorious St. Roch park neighborhood with guitarist Earl Stanley--now playing the recently introduced electric bass--and drummer Paul Staehle. "Leonard lived on Robertson not too far from the park and Stanley used to live around there on Dauphine," Rebennack says. "One of the things St. Roch Park was known for was as a good cop spot. St. Roch church was famous, too, because they'd take the grease out the bells by the cemetery, mix it with some graveyard dirt and some gun powder, add extra nitrate and put that all together with Patchouli oil to make goofy dust. Now, what you did with it was according to how rank a motherfucker you were." The mysterious worlds of drugs and hoodoo fascinated young Mac, but in his new musical partners he found an even deeper magic. "Paul Staehle was bad. I remember him having drum battles with Edward Blackwell and all the top drummers. And Stanley had a finger-plucking style of guitar like Snooks did, North Mexican shit that he'd learned from his daddy. He was into Earl King and Guitar Slim just like I was. We liked those cats because they did something different." Rebennack had picked up on the flamboyance of his guitar heroes a little too acutely for the priests at Jesuit, who'd brought his high school career to a halt after a Christmas talent show where they accused him of making "lewd gyrations" with his instrument. The real beef, Henry Guerineau later told Tad Jones, was that they were playing R&B instead of big band swing or Dixieland. "At the time," he recalled, "it was heresy." Stanley, who became the Spades' guitarist after Rebennack left the band, was having his own issues over at Nicholls High. "I used to hang with the gangsters, all the tough guys," Stanley says. "I was so bad they threw me out of Nicholls but they couldn't throw me out of school. So they asked me to leave and I went to McDonough on Esplanade for a couple of months, then I quit when I was 15. That was in '55. "I didn't know Mac when he was in the Spades. I just remember seeing him playing guitar at the dances. I thought, 'That guy's pretty good.' Then I got with Leonard and through Leonard I met Mac. They had a guy playing piano with them, Hal Farrar, he went by the stage names 'King Helo Attaro' and 'Spider Boy.' Now Hal was a character, he was the character of them all; the main lunatic. He liked to drink vodka, he could care less about anything, just a wild man. He used to have this Cugat jacket he'd wear and he'd play piano and try to do all of Little Richard's stuff. He even had the little moustache. In fact, he recorded the original demo of 'I've Been Hoodood' (later to become the flip side of the Dr. John hit "Right Place, Wrong Time") with Leonard." Vocalists Wayne "Deadeye" Herring and Jerry Byrne were also drifting into the group at this point. "We used to do the old low-down blues," Herring told Jones. "There weren't too many white bands that could do it. Back then if you sat in with a black band, boy, they'd jump on your ass when you come outside. People took a dim view of that but we did it anyway." While band names revolved from the Skyliners to the Loafers to the Night Trains to the Thunderbirds, the foundation remained James, Rebennack, Stanley and Staehle. "Crippled" Eddie Hynes and Eddie Shroeder often floated in on trombone and baritone sax respectively. "Whether it was Leonard's band or my band, it was all pretty much the same crew of guys," says Rebennack, "Nothing really changed other than we changed the name of the band quite frequently. It kinda helped us get some gigs and win some talent shows. We lost them under one name and won them under another." The core foursome debuted on wax with an album of raunchy guitar and sax instrumentals, Boppin' and A Strollin' with Leonard James, recorded for Decca in 1956. Rough, ready and loose, the LP was the perfect soundtrack of noir New Orleans; at once evocative of French Quarter strip joints, high school dances and hood hangouts like the Rockery Inn. Along with discs like the Saxons' "Camel Walk' and the Sparks' "Merry Mary Lou," it stands as a testament to city's incredibly potent--but often obscured--white rock 'n' roll underground. "Leonard always took pride in combing his ducktail perfect," recalls Rebennack. "I mean, he would stand in front the mirror for an hour and then put his be-bop cap on--perfect. He had his little zoot suit pressed, more than the rest of us. We'd just wear them. They were the kind that didn't wrinkle any way. "Leonard was a great hustler. He used to walk in joints where they never had a band in their life. I remember us getting a gig in the Ninth Ward at a grocery store. Leonard conned this guy into hiring us but he wanted country music. We didn't know any country music so we'd play 'Comin' Around the Mountain' or whatever. As long as we were working, we didn't care nothing about none of the rest of it." From dives like the Club Leoma, the Blue Cat and the Jet Lounge, they moved up to the Clock on St. Charles Avenue and finally, the Brass Rail. "While we were working there Paul Gayten says, 'If y'all want to keep the gig, you're going to have to quit playing songs like the record.' And that became kind of a theme with our band. We didn't play them like the records, we played them our way." Gayten also took issue with their slightly out-of-date stage wear. "We had the same suits for so long that I don't think anybody ever considered getting new uniforms until Paul started fuckin' with us: 'Nobody wears zoot suits in Chicago; they wear continental suits.' Man, here we had all our money invested in these royal blue zoot suits. And what do we do? We got some new suits from Harry Hyman's or old man Sutton's on South Rampart--continental suits--and we wore them in Gretna when they had a gang fight at Cass's Lounge. They throwed us all in the drainage ditch out behind the joint. We ruined our new suits and we hadn't even paid for them yet! "When we worked at any of them joints on the West Bank, shit happened. At Spec's Moulin Rouge, old man Spec used to have guys walking around with pieces dressed like police but they wasn't official police, they was just guys who worked for old man Spec. Gang fights was, like, prevalent. When the Choctaw Boys and the Cherokees would have their annual beef at the Wego Inn on the Hill, it would be around Carnival. And it would be like, 'Goddamn.' You know the shit's going to happen; it's just when it's going happen. I would be trying to play close to the slot machines that were on the bandstand because I figured the slots could deal with the slugs better than me. When I saw anything that looked like it could be trouble, I'd back up toward the slots. But this is the kind of shit you had to endure back in them days because you were dealing with a bunch of crazy motherfuckers. And we were crazy, too." If there was one song that distilled the insanity into the length of a 45 RPM record, it was Rebennack's "Lights Out," cut by Jerry Byrne for Specialty in 1958. Punctuated by stop-time drum breaks, a foghorn-like saxophone riff and a searing piano solo courtesy of Art Neville, "Lights Out" has justifiably been called "the perfect rock 'n' roll song." Byrne's breakneck vocal nods to a personality so bent on bringing the house down that fights--and sometimes worse--often ensued. "Jerry was one of them suckers who worked the house," says Rebennack, "but he was a piece of work. He drove me crazy a number of times in my life. He was special with that. Hey, guys wanted to shoot me over things Jerry did. He had the ability to kick up more shit with more motherfuckers than anybody I know." In 1959, Byrne cut Mac's equally boisterous "Carry On" and then got sent to prison on a trumped-up statutory rape charge. Deadeye was already behind bars. "It was a never-ending thing," says Stanley, "just make a record and things happen, you know?" Despite the trouble, says Rebennack, "our band was really popular." They'd toured with Frankie Ford behind "Sea Cruise" and Byrne behind "Lights Out" as well as backing the traveling rock 'n' roll caravans at both the Municipal Auditorium and Pontchartrain Beach Amusement Park. And the records kept coming, from Bobby Lonero's "Little Bit" to Morgus and the Ghouls' "Morgus the Magnificent." "I don't think any of us thought that much about doing a record date," reflects Rebennack. "The gigs were the fun part. When I started working for Joe Ruffino's record company, Joe asked my daddy if I could be the president of the company and my daddy says, 'What are you crazy? This boy can't even find his fuckin' shoes!' But there were so many guys we did sessions for like Andy Blanco at Drew-blan in Morgan City and a bunch of other guys that had different little labels in the country. We played on all of Cos's Rex stuff and then we did a lot of crazy stuff all through the days we were working for Johnny Vincent over at Ace. I remember we stole 'Jimmy Crack Corn' and called it 'Ain't No Use.' We cut 'Row Your Boat' with Big Boy Myles. And I don't know how many different versions of 'Junco Partner' we cut with Roland Stone. We were some plagiarizing motherfuckers." Stone, the most prolific of Rebennack's vocalists on record, had already blazed the white R&B trail with local luminaries the Jokers when he waxed the regional smash "Just a Moment" with Rebennack in 1961. His entrance roughly coincided with the departure of Leonard James, who was replaced by Charlie Maduell after he joined the Air Force. "Charlie was just as crazy as Leonard was, but Leonard never got high. On the other hand, Charlie fit right in with the rest of us because he liked the narcotics, too. Probably the only one that wasn't a really serious drug addict was Stanley. If we were somewhere in the country, we would burglarize drug stores. When we were in the city, we forged 'scripts. We were strung out dope fiends, what the hell you going to do? There was a pharmacy on the corner of Dorgenois and Canal that used to sell to all the dope fiends. You had to go in there and ask for certain things, that's when I started getting my collection of Mad comic books together. If I got a comic book and a bag of pork rinds, that meant I wanted some opiates. Everything you ordered meant something else. We used to have so much fun that who'd have ever thought we'd wind up in jail? "My favorite gig was when Roland was singing with us and we started working at Little Club Forest on Jefferson Highway. At Club Forest, you could tell what audience hit because when all the junkies would come in, they'd just want to hear 'Junco Partner' over and over. When the whores came in they'd want to hear whatever their song was that night. So there were all these songs that fit the set. That gig was so fuckin' off the hook, so much crazy shit happened at that gig alone, I couldn't even describe it. "Between Charlie Maduell and Paul Staehle, they would always hide the stash for the band. One night they had a raid and Paul had the whole band's stash in his sock. They didn't shake us down, but the FBI came in and they emptied the joint. Somebody paid everyone's bond and before the night was over, Wes, the Jefferson Parish narc, was selling the customers back their dope in the band room! This is how out there it was. "And then Charlie went out and walked the bar and did the dance of the Seven Veils. He's out and there doing a striptease walking the bar. It's one of them gigs that's printed in my brain. And we always had what we used to call our 'band-aids' back then. Before they called them groupies, we called them band-Aids." When Stone fell for one of the young ladies a little too hard, friction arose. "I told Roland, 'Hey, listen, you can't marry this girl. She's our girl. She belongs to the band.' I thought I was doing him a favor but it backfired. He was obviously pissed." Stone showed up for his next recording session with three henchmen in tow including prizefighter Pepi Flores. "They stomped my ass. Charlie went out and got a gun and was firing in the air. I says, 'Charlie, quit shooting in the air! Shoot these motherfuckers!' He didn't even have real guns. They were replica weapons he'd loaded up! But we all went to work the next night together. Me and Charlie wound up having to wear shades and makeup to hide the black eyes. That's when I learned, hey, when it comes to matters of somebody's heart, stay the fuck out of it." The good times had to come to an end and they eventually did. Stone was busted on a narcotics charge, as was Maduell, who remains in Angola today. Within just a few years, Paul Staehle would die of a drug over dose. Rebennack's own luck ran out on Christmas Eve of 1961 when he intervened in a scuffle between Ronnie Barron and a jealous club owner who accused Barron of having an affair with his wife. "I walked in to get Ronnie at the last minute because Ronnie was like Leonard James, he'd take forever to get himself all perfect. So I go to get him and the guy's pistol-whipping him. Miss Mildred, Ronnie's mama, said if anything happened to her son on the road she was going to take a butcher knife and chop my cajones off. So I'm thinking, 'Man, if anything happens to this guy, his mama's going to fuck me up.' And hey, she was much more frightening to me than this guy was. I thought I had my hand over the handle of the gun, but it was over the barrel. I'm beating his hand on the bricks and as I'm hitting it, all of a sudden the gun went off and my finger's just about to fall off of my hand. It was hanging by a piece of skin and then I went crazy. I took Paul Staehle's ride cymbal out the case and just fucked up the guy's face. I was trying to pull his eyeballs out his head." Doctors managed to reattach the finger, but Rebennack had trouble playing guitar with the intensity he'd become known for. He concentrated on the keyboard, playing organ on virtually all of Huey Meaux's New Orleans sessions, most notably those of Barbara Lynn and Jimmy Donley. The first--and perhaps wildest--chapter of his musical career officially came to a close when he was busted and sent to federal prison in Fort Worth, Texas. Upon his release in 1965 he headed to California and his future as the Night Tripper. "You know what the kicks of it was?" Rebennack asks. "We wanted to play music so bad that we didn't ever think about it. We were trying to make a hustle just off of the gigs and that was part of the fun of it. Everything we done, we had fun doing it. That was the one thing that I always treasured about them days. It was just something that happened. When you're young and crazy and stupid, you do a lot of crazy, stupid shit. But a lot of that shit is great because you're too stupid to know better. I know that we made it a point to always have kicks, to always have good times no matter what was going to go down. We never thought, 'Oh, this is a suck-ass gig we're going on.' We went on all kinds of suck-ass gigs! But while we were doing them, we had a ball."

#drjohn #neworleans

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photographyatmit · 2 years ago

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Blogpost #5

Boy running on top of train, 1982 Martha Cooper

MIDG Car Passing Through, Bronx, 1982 Martha Cooper

Freshly Painted Wild Style Wall in Riverside Park, Manhattan, NYC, 1983 Martha Cooper

I appreciate Martha Cooper's work to portray the life and the livelihood in the poorer neighborhoods in NYC. I really enjoy her choice of frame, subject and colors in the photos, and I think overall she creates images full of life, even in the last photo where all of the players are in shadows.

It's All Good, 2006 Boogie

Belgarde Belongs to Me, 2009 Boogie

I find Boogie's photography fascinating, mostly for his choice of subject but also the stories that his photos tell. Particularly, I really like how his gang photography feels so real, so unfiltered. It is a true capturing of a real moment. I also like how he guides the viewers eye through the image by focusing on certain pieces within the image while making a haze of the other pieces.

#Everybody #KasraMazaheri

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gigawaya-blog · 7 years ago

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100% Orange Juice 1bitHeart ABZU ACE Academy Aeon Command AER Memories of Old AirMech Strike AKIBA'S TRIP: Undead & Undressed Alicemare Alien Swarm Alien Swarm: Reactive Drop Amnesia: A Machine for Pigs Amnesia: The Dark Descent ARAYA Armored Evolution Astebreed: Definitive Edition Atlas Reactor Audiosurf 2 AZURA Azure Strike Gunvolt Backyard Basketball Backyard Football Bad Rats Show Batman: Arkham Asylum GOTY Edition Batman: Arkham City GOTY Batman: Arkham Origins Batman: Arkham Knight Battleblock Theater Beat Hazard A Bird Story Black & White Bushido Black Dream

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Brawlhalla Breathing Fear Castle Crashers Choose Wisely Cinderella Escape 2 Revenge Closers Cloudbuilt CODE OF PRINCESS Coffin of Ashes Confess My Love Consummate: Missing World Copy Kitty Corpse Party

Cortex Command Crazy Machines 3 The Crooked Man Crown Champion: Legends of the Arena Cuphead (awaiting DLC) Cyber Utopia D4: Dark Dreams Don't Die Darkness Assault Dead Rising Deadly Premonition: The Director's Cut The Deed The Deed: Dynasty DEEP SPACE WAIFU DEEP SPACE WAIFU: FLAT JUSTICE Depth Doki Doki Literature Club Door Kickers Double Dragon Neon Dr. Langeskov, The Tiger, and The Terribly Cursed Emerald: A Whirlwind Heist Dragon Ball Xenoverse 2 (awaiting DLC) Dragon Knight DreadOut: Keepers of The Dark Dreaming Sarah DubWars Duck Game Dungeon Nightmares 2: The Memory EARTH DEFENSE FORCE 4.1: The Shadow of New Despair EARTH DEFENSE FORCE 4.1: WINGDIVER THE SHOOTER

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Gal*Gun: Double Peace Gang Beasts Garry's Mod Getting Over It with Bennett Foddy Girl X Mushrooms Glass Wing Go Go Electric Samurai Goat Simulator GOCCO OF WAR GOD EATER 2 Rage Burst GOD EATER RESURRECTION Golf With Your Friends Grand Theft Auto 5 Grass Cutter GUN Gun Metal

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Niche - a genetics survival game NieR: Automata Nippon Marathon (awaiting updates) Notch - The Innocent LunA: Eclipsed SinnerS Office Battle OKAMI HD Orbital Gear Ori and the Blind Forest: Definitive Edition Our Love Will Grow Outland Over The Moonlight Overlord Oxenfree

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#pc #steam #games #gaming #youtube #checklist #todolist #gigawaya #galiwolfe #todowaya

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