#but I know from the guitar that I'll just use it enough to not sell it but not enough to feel like it was a worthwhile purchase

[kanvasal]

I've got a fucking thought parasite

every time that I manage to convince myself not to buy the $400 thing because 'what if it ends up being an expensive thing that I don't use' it replies with "oh but it wasn't a big deal when you bought your $500 guitar?"

[steddieas-shegoes]

uh. what?

for @steddielovemonth prompt 'love is healing wounds'

rated m | 1,782 words | cw: injury recovery, mild blood, recreational drug use | tags: post s4, hurt/comfort, getting together, fade to black

💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

The stitches pulled and he couldn't get comfortable. He almost wished Robin hadn't made him get checked over, but anything that required this many stitches probably would've killed him if he hadn't. At least that's what Nancy said when he complained to her about it.

But now, Steve couldn't sleep, and sleep was apparently very important for healing.

The alarm clock next to his bed said 2:07 am, so calling someone was out. Going somewhere was also out, unless he wanted to go to the 24 hour diner alone.

Fresh air sounded good until he realized he'd have to either go for a walk in the middle of the night alone or sit by the pool alone.

He didn't want to be alone.

His phone started to ring just when he was considering taking a shower out of boredom.

"Harrington residence, this is Steve."

"So formal for two in the morning, Stevie," Eddie's laugh rang through the line and Steve couldn't help smiling. Something about Eddie's energy was contagious, a beacon of light when all he had was the darkness of his room.

"Didn't know if it was an international business partner for my parents. Happens sometimes when they forget time zones." Steve moved to the edge of his bed so the cord didn't have to stretch as far. "What are you doing up?"

"Had a dream about being eaten alive again. This time they managed to eat both of my nipples." Eddie scoffed. "Isn't one enough?"

Steve chuckled. "And you can't go back to sleep because you're scared they'll come take your other nipple?"

"It's a genuine concern, Steve! I have big dreams of piercing this thing and if they take it from me, what do I have left?"

"I think you'd probably just find something else to pierce," Steve shook thoughts of what that might be out of his head before they could take over. "So you can't sleep. You thought you'd call and wake me up to suffer with you?"

Eddie was silent for a moment before responding. "Did I wake you up?"

"No," Steve said quickly, not wanting Eddie to feel bad. "I was awake."

"Nightmare?"

"No, stitches are bothering me."

"You wanna come over? I found my hidden stash. Might help with the stitches," Eddie offered.

Steve probably shouldn't. He was on some pain meds already and if he got too fucked up, he'd probably cry. That's what happened last time he had some of whatever Eddie was selling.

"I'll come over, but probably shouldn't have anything. Robin would kill me if I end up in the hospital," Steve gave a half-truth.

"Yeah, she's terrifying. I'll leave the door unlocked."

Before Steve could tell him that was a bad idea, he hung up.

********

When Steve got to Eddie's, he let out the breath he'd been holding the entire drive. Eddie was sitting on the porch, alone, his guitar by his side.

Maybe he'd been playing already, or maybe he planned to play to help distract Steve from the way his skin felt like it was too much.

He got out of the car and waved when Eddie looked over at him with a smile.

"Didn't think you'd get here so quick," Eddie didn't bother standing up, Steve just knew to go sit by him.

But the steps on the Munson's porch were rickety at best, "temporary" according to the government officials who had stuck them here because they didn't think it was worth putting them in a home across town, and Steve's eyes hadn't quite adjusted to the dull glow of the light by the front door. He missed the top step and immediately fell, barely catching himself on the wood of the porch.

Eddie was helping him up immediately, doing his best not to make his own injuries worse.

"Shit, you okay? Wayne tried fixing it, but it just keeps getting loose."

Steve felt a stinging pain on his side, and when his hand grazed over the worst of his bites, he felt something warm and wet on his fingers.

"Shit," without looking, he knew he'd torn his stitches. "Eddie, I need a towel or something."

"Shit, that's a lot of blood. That's a lot of blood. It shouldn't be that much, right? Like even tearing your stitches, it shouldn't be-"

"Eddie." Steve poked his arm, stayed as calm as he could. He bled easy, so sometimes even small things looked worse than they were. "Towel."

"Right, yeah. Should you come with me?" Eddie shook his head. "I mean can you move? Should you stay here?"

"I'll sit here until I have a towel. Don't wanna get blood on the carpet."

"Got it."

Eddie still seemed unsure about leaving him, but must have noticed how much blood was soaking through Steve's shirt and rushed inside. He was back in less than a minute, a black towel in his hand.

"It's clean. It's the one I usually use for my hair, but I didn't get to fold it from the dryer yet. Um, just put pressure on it."

Steve knew what to do, was used to putting pressure on wounds, but appreciated Eddie trying to triage it anyway.

"You got a needle and thread, right?" Steve asked once he took his shirt off and put pressure on the bite. It was already bleeding much less, a positive sign that maybe it wouldn't be too bad.

"I mean, I do. I don't have medical tools that have been sanitized properly."

"You have water to boil and vodka?"

"Steve. I'm not fucking performing a medical procedure on your stomach," Eddie shook his head. "Do you have a death wish or something?"

"I trust you."

The words hung heavy between them, despite the fact it wasn't exactly news to either of them. They'd been through it all together, why wouldn't he trust him?

"Okay, let's get inside and I'll get everything ready."

Getting inside was easier said than done. The bleeding had mostly stopped, but the pain had really started to set in and every breath felt like knives stabbing into him.

"Deep breath, Stevie," Eddie said as he sat him down on the couch and helped him lay back. "I'll get you something for the pain."

"Something" was an edible, and Eddie seemed hesitant to give it to him, but all reservations Steve previously had went out the window as he felt his hands shaking from the pain.

Eddie prepared everything while the edible kicked in, checking in with Steve every few minutes to make sure he hadn't passed out or started bleeding again.

When the room started to feel blurry and his head felt light, Steve smiled over at Eddie, who looked nervous.

"Ready for your magic hands," Steve wiggled his brows.

Eddie made a strangled sound before leaning over the wound and wiping some of the blood away gently so he could see where to stitch him back up.

He worked as quickly as possible, humming softly to distract himself and Steve from what was happening.

Steve was high.

He was high and he was feeling good despite the needle in his skin.

He drifted for a bit, couldn't be sure how long, but eventually, Eddie was touching his cheek and making him open his eyes.

"Think you should stand up so I can wrap a bandage on it. Then you can try to shower off some of the blood if you want. Wayne got one of those removable showerheads. Feels fancy," Eddie said as he moved the hair off of Steve's face.

"Help?" Steve managed to ask.

"Yeah, I can help you with the wrap and start the shower for you," Eddie nodded.

"In the shower?" Steve asked.

Eddie paused. "I can keep us dressed?"

"But." Steve huffed. "Blood."

Eddie couldn't help but laugh at his confusion, Steve's lips pouting out and his eyes squinting. "Okay, okay. If you're okay with it, I'm okay with it. You're high as shit, man."

"I'm standing right on the ground," Steve waved his arms around him. "Or is the ground standing on me but the other way?"

"God, this is the best. Okay, let's go."

"Wait!" Steve grabbed Eddie's arms. "You should know something."

Eddie raised his brows in question. "Go on."

"I'm very in love with you. And also kinda hard."

Eddie blinked, not processing. Now he felt high.

"Uh. What?"

"I have an erection." Steve made a disgusted face. "Hate that word. Sounds so middle school sex ed."

"It is." Eddie shook his head. "I guess I meant more like, how and why and what the hell do you mean by it."

Steve giggled. "I said you had magic hands and I was right."

"Dude, I was literally giving you stitches. I am failing to see why that would make you hard."

"It's cuz you're so gentle and your tongue sticks out when you're trying to focus. And also I started thinking about what you'd do if I couldn't move," Steve sighed dreamily. "You have handcuffs."

"Okay. Let's pause." Eddie let out a small hysterical laugh. "You want me to help you in the shower because you love me? Do you even need help?"

"Probably. But I also want help. And also you're a helper for me."

"What does that even mean? Where's Robin when you need her to decode what the hell you're talking about?"

"You're a helper for me! Because you help me be better about asking for help! And then you help!"

"Okay, that's. Good. I'm still not sure what's happening."

"You're gonna help me shower. I'm gonna try very hard not to come. We sleep?" Steve looked around Eddie out the window, like he was checking if it was still night time. "And then in the morning I wake up and get yelled at by Robin."

"Why would she-"

"The stitches. And the telling you I love you thing. She's gonna be real mad about that."

"Why?" Eddie felt like he was losing it. What was even happening anymore? How had he completely lost control of the night?

"She wanted to help me do a speech thing."

This was just getting more wild.

Steve needed a shower, and he needed sleep. Eddie needed a minute to gather his own thoughts.

"Shower. Sleep. Talk in the morning." Eddie raised his hand to cup Steve's neck. "Robin murders you after we talk."

"Deal." Steve's face sank, but he quickly perked back up. "But shower?"

"Yes, shower. Go, horndog."

Steve laughed as he half-limped to the bathroom, clearly feeling some pain even with the drugs in his system. Eddie followed and resisted touching Steve as much as possible.

Which ended up being about two minutes.

[itsallmouthwashing]

Tulpar Band AU- Character descriptions/some lore PART 2

Uh okay fellas- I had to use piccrew since I'm bad at art (good thing @living-stain is keeping me fed WOOF) and I'll include some more facts about them! This is part 2 of the Tulpar Band AU character descriptions! (Part 1)

(MAYBE I NEED TO CLARIFY MAYBE NOT BUT THE ART IS DONE MY @living-stain!!!!!!! Please show him some love!!)

JIMMY ZARE- Scream Vocals and Guitar

Learned guitar pretty early in life. His parents would often drop him at the local YMCA and he took an instant interest to making music. One of the instructors there also taught him how to write songs and write music!

That instructor also listened to a lot of metal music! Little Jimmy was fascinated with it and demanded the instructor teach him how to do the monster voice thing. (Instructor learned how, just for him) (Jimmy ate up every bit and even made notes in his journal!)

Has perfect pitch! It drives him crazy sometimes when he hears a sound- any sound- and can immediately know what note it is. Although, sometimes the crew will 'test' him. They'll make random noises and ask to identify it

Music was a great outlet for him, so all of his songwriting is very personal to him and exposing himself was something he had to come to terms with if he wanted to start a band and use his songs

he starts a journal of songs and notes about making music and carries it with him almost everywhere. It's where all of his lyrics are stored, where all of his feelings are stored. They have no place in his heart, so they must be put somewhere else

Started smoking cigarettes at age 9 when he snuck one out of his parent's stash. They caught him, but just gave him his own pack and lighter in response (shitty Jimmy parents that I created, when I get you- Jimmy's parents when I get you-)

Becomes a dealer at the high school but low-key only sells to people he trusts (aka people he knows for sure are stoners and don't want to ruin the one plug that will sell to them)

Curly gets him to stop when they form Tulpar, but Jimmy still gets supplies for the two of them (he doesn't know WHERE Daisuke heard about him still selling, but it leads to Tulpar's full formation so whatever)

Smashed some motherfucker's guitar on their first day of high school. Yes, Jimmy was bragging about having perfect pitch, but he didn't expect so many goddamn kids to want him to tune their guitars for class. So when this kid with too blond hair and a grating fucking accent, he finally had enough, and all the annoyance and impatience came out in a violent swing to the ground with that kid's guitar in hand

GRANT CURLY- Main Vocals and Guitar

Picked up guitar the summer before he moved to America. His freshman year of high school is when he was able to commit the most of his time to practice and learned how to play through school

First day of school had his guitar smashed. He brought his own from home not knowing there would be instruments provided, and the kid who smashed it had to pay Curly and his family himself to replace it (Curly parents could replace it no problem, it wasn't a financial thing. And Curly feels bad about this fact for 0.2 seconds before he's searching for new guitars on the internet)

Always had a knack for singing. His dad was actually in a band when Curly was growing up, and while his dad played drums he loved to sit in on practice and sing along.

Karaoke? What was that blond blur just now? That was Curly getting first in line

Develops an alt style thanks to Jimmy, molds it to a more 'classy' look by wearing button-downs and suit pieces (someone said he looked great in a button-down and he decided it was the only thing he would wear ever)

Jimmy got him hooked on cigarettes during their freshman year of high school. He literally cannot got thirty minuets without a cigarette. He's insecure about the smell that lingers on him, so he also carries a bottle of cologne with him almost everywhere

DAISUKE JUAREZ - Drums and Synth/Keyboard

Had an interest in piano when he was younger and kept up with it as he learned drums at 12

Between piano lessons and school, he played baseball at his after-school care program. He really enjoyed it, playing baseball through middle and high school and eventually getting a scholarship based on his skill! he has to juggle Tulpar and his college baseball career, so sometimes they need to schedule around Daisuke

His parents are stupid rich and have lots of connections in production. Both parents work in Hollywood (as what? Beats me him!)

Daisuke is sent to a new high school when he turns 18 (which is junior year. his parents let him finish the year but send him to a state of his choosing to finish high school and experience life on his own) (yes they spy on him through Swansea)

Clicks with Anya instantly when he find out they both just moved to the state the same year. Quickly finds out she's a little bit of a goody-two-shoes (he changes his)

ANYA MUSUME

Picked up bass when she was 13 when she started listening to music. Honestly, she felt bass was a super underrated instrument (and that it was harder to pick up than other instruments). Her dad bought her first bass!

It's been Anya and her father for as long as she could remember. Her mom stayed behind in their home country (I'll figure it out) as they all planned to move to America, but she never made it to them. She suddenly became ill and passed away. This all happened when Anya was very young, so she has little memory of it. But her father does break down when she names her bass after her mom :)

Her and her father moved to a different state during her senior year of high school for reasons unknown to her. Sometimes she overheard hushed phone calls in the kitchen, or notices his shifting eyes in public spaces.

She meets Daisuke in a business studies class and the two take on the first few weeks of school together! It's not until Daisuke tells her that there's someone on campus that sells the good shit and they agree to meet at the dealer's spot that they meet Jimmy and Curly!

Curly and Daisuke have Gym at the same time, so that interaction was nice ("Word?" "Word." "I didn't know you were chill like that.")

The four of them hang out plenty after that!

SWANSEA (LASTNAME?)- Manager (I COULDNT FIND A GOOD PICCREW IM SORRY :(

Part of Pony Express Record's staff of managers. They refuse to hire more, so usually managers are looking after two or more bands at a time. This is also true for Swansea!

Daisuke's parents call in a favor he's owed them for some time, and of course it's for their precious baby boy. And of course he can't say no

He oversee's Tulpar's progress as a unit, coaches them individually on what industry standards are for musicians and then as a group for synergy, blending, and other factors that could risk their signing.

No matter how many times Swansea tells Jimmy his shit wont fly at P.E Records, Jimmy writes what he wants anyways. And the band rallies behind him. And somehow it fucking works

On top of being Tulpar's manager, he also kinda becomes Daisuke's babysitter (on his parents wishes. "Well, you're going to be over there anyways! I don't see the big deal in reporting back to us about what he's- how he's doing :)")

[super-unpredictable98]

Girl of Another Hour | Garota do Momento AU

Chapter 1: One-Way Trip

Word count: 2k

Warning: Strong language

A/n: Hello everyone! As promised, I'm taking my girl Lydia to yet another timeline. This time, instead of landing in 2009 England, she'll end up... somewhere else. This fic is based on the Brazilian novela Garota do Momento which is one of my current obsessions. I wrote this fic in Portuguese given the source material (here's the Portuguese version), but I wanted my English speaking followers to be able to read it too, so here's a translation. If this goes well, I might just keep posting it in both languages. I hope you all love this story and all these characters as much as I do XOXO (Oh and just please ignore any language barrier for narrative purposes lol)

[Masterlist]

"So what are you saying, Nathan? We'll never see each other again? You don't like me anymore?"

"I do, I like you a lot, but I can't do this. It was a mistake what we just did."

"It was just a kiss… I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do it, I just couldn't help myself, I'm too drunk for self-control."

"I know, I'm not proud of it, but… I liked it. We've been friends for so long and I tried to ignore it, cause last time with Kelly was just a disaster."

"I don't wanna lose you as my friend."

"I know, I don't want it either, but the problem is that I actually like you."

"Then be with me! It doesn't have to be like this…"

"I'm married, I have a family! I used to say I'd be a screw-up until my early thirties, but what would I tell Marnie? She can't be alone with Junior."

"Look, I'm not a homewrecker, but damn it, Nathan! I love you!"

"I think I might love you too, but I guess it's just a right person wrong time situation. We're in different moments of our lives, I know you're gonna find someone your age, I hope he's nicer and kinder than me. I would say funnier, but that's a tall order… We both know that's unrealistic. Weren't you going to Brazil for the summer? Who knows? Maybe you'll find your prince charming there."

"I don't want just any bloke who's kind and nice, I want you."

"I want you too, Lollipop… That's why I think it's better if we don't talk anymore."

"So that's it? This is goodbye?"

"I suppose it is. Maybe there's a life where we can be together, I'm sorry it didn't work out in this one."

"I'll find this life."

Lydia shook her head trying to ignore that pesky memory, it's been two weeks since everything happened, but she couldn't stop thinking about how hurtful that moment was. Her heart was broken, though she'd never say that out loud, she already hated herself enough for lowering her guard and falling in love with someone like Nathan Young. Why did it have to be her older brother's screw-up friend?

She hated herself for kissing a married man, for ruining her friendship with him, for hurting Marnie, who despite being very annoying, did not deserve it and did nothing wrong besides getting there first in the race for Nathan's heart. Lydia Bellamy isn't the type of person who does that.

She had nothing to lose, so she was organizing her stuff in a big suitcase. She was packing money, some clothes, medicine, her old MP3, laptop with photos, important notes, and other stuff she judged essential. She was going back to 2009.

After a huge ice storm a few years back, people who were struck by lightning in Wertham, a small London estate, were granted strange superpowers that seemed to relate to their biggest insecurities or unsolved issues. Nathan was one of them, he became immortal. Lydia's brother, Simon, was another, who gained the ability to become invisible.

A suspicious character ended up getting the power to transfer powers from one person to the other and made that his job, buying and selling abilities as if he were a human thrift store. That was the man Lydia looked for after selling her classic Fender guitar and getting enough money to buy something that would take her to the past.

"I have one-way time travel. You can use it for whenever you like, but only once. There's no way back," the man said and she accepted it, having no other choice or path to follow.

With her bags packed, Lydia closed her eyes and tried to focus on the exact date where she wanted to be transported. The only issue is that she didn't know the exact date, she couldn't remember those days too well, since she was only 12 in 2009, exactly ten years ago.

"Summer of 2009," she murmured to herself, but the more she tried to focus on the date, the dizzier she got. Her vision darkened and her eyelids became heavy until she felt a tug, as if someone dragged her from one corner of the room to the other.

Only… when she opened her eyes, she was no longer in her bedroom. It was warm, a heat that she had not experienced in a long time, and looking up, she saw a store sign: Perfumaria Carioca.

"Carioca? Rio de Janeiro?"

**

Beto is a journalist, he's covering the revelry on the street parties, making him the only one wearing tailored trousers, a button up shirt, and a tie. The heat was almost unbearable, but he wanted to be professional anyway. He only had to endure it until that night, when he was going to the Gente Fina club with his little girlfriend, Beatriz.

"Beto! Enough working!" Ulisses, his best friend, followed his mate through the carnaval.

"It's for the cover of the newspaper! And I still have to write the article, there's no partying for me today," Beto started taking pictures with his camera. He took several photos until his lenses focused on the disoriented lady on the street who wore the strangest costume he had ever seen. "Ulisses… check that out."

"Who's the dolly?"

Lydia has long wavy purple and blue hair, she wore a Panic! At The Disco tank top, a short pink skirt inspired by Avril Lavigne, belt full of dangling chains, a black tie in a loose knot around her neck, gigantic earrings shaped like lightning bolts besides several rings and bracelets in the same style, ripped tights, and black combat boots with silver spikes.

"Oh for fuck's sake…" she mumbled. "Not even the Doctor's TARDIS got his destination so wrong! What the fuck is this?"

"Look what a babe," a man came closer. "Showing the bra straps, how naughty!"

"Leave me alone," she tried to pull away.

"No sweetheart, you're so fly, come party with us," another man joined the first.

Beto noticed the commotion and the lady trying to get away from a group of men who surrounded her trying to get lucky, so he ran to help.

"Leave the lady alone!" He shouted, but before he could do anything, Lydia threw a punch and knocked one of the men down, sending the others running. Her rings made the impact even worse. "Jesus…"

"What? You want some?" She raised her hand and he backed off.

"I- I just wanted to help, please don't hit me!" Beto laughed. "You really served that scoundrel a knuckle sandwich. I think you broke his nose."

"I'm so sorry, I was all nervous and I thought you were gonna try something too."

In that brief moment, Lydia saw all the kindness in that man's brown eyes. Beto is tall, taller than her (which has always been hard to find), sharp jawline, freckles, and blonde hair. So handsome.

"No, not at all, I am here to work, my name is Roberto-"

"Sorry for the odd question, but… what year is this?"

"Year? Are you drunk? Do you need any help?"

"No, I'm fine. I just wanted to know."

"Well, it's 1958," he chuckled as if it was obvious.

"Bloody hell!" She screamed in terror and ran off. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"

"Wait! What's your name?" Beto tried to follow, but the lady had already disappeared in the crowd.

Ulisses ran to meet his friend, dumbfounded by the scene that just unfolded in front of him.

"Did you see how amazing?" Beto smiled.

"The girl is the bee's knees. She was about to land you a punch too!"

"The most beautiful girl I've ever seen, more beautiful than Audrey Hepburn, than Marilyn Monroe, than Dorothy Dandridge. This dolly has something about her, Ulisses, did you hear the cute accent? If she wanted to, she could be a star."

"She doesn't go unnoticed, what was that costume? I've never seen a carnaval costume like that, let alone that wig."

"It wasn't a wig, that was her hair."

"Impossible, how come? Is she a mermaid or something?" Ulisses laughed.

"I'm starting to think so."

**

Lydia walked around the streets of Rio not knowing how she ended up there, and worse… the other shoe dropped. She would never see Nathan again, nor her friends, her parents weren't even born yet, and she had no way of going back ever. She was stranded and alone forever.

"Like I was touched by a Weeping Angel," she frowned and sat on the curb with her suitcase.

"An angel?" A woman stopped in front of her.

The woman was beautiful, her dark skin was almost shimmering in the sunlight and her hairdo was just spectacular.

"Nothing, I was thinking out loud."

"What pretty hair you have, doll! Can I have a closer look?" She asked.

"Of course."

"My name is Glória Regina, but you can call me Glorinha. I'm in beauty school and I've never seen hair like yours. Where did you find such colorful dye?"

"If I told you, you'd never believe me… so to make a long story short, it's from London. I've just arrived from there. I'm Lydia by the way, Lydia Bellamy."

"Pleasure to meet you, and welcome to Rio."

"Thanks," she laughed sarcastically. "I wasn't meant to be here, I got the destination wrong. And I had to punch some idiot already who tried to chat me up… the reception has been pretty warm."

"Oh poor thing! Look at your hand! Come with me, doll, I'll take you to the inn to get some ice. I live at a Copacabana inn for ladies, you'll like it there."

"Do you know if there's any vacancy? I don't have a place to stay and I only have pounds on me."

"Of course, Mrs. Iolanda always finds space."

At the inn, Mrs. Iolanda was yelling at her daughter, Ana Maria, as always because of the outfit she chose to wear to the carnaval party at the Gente Fina club, which would happen in a few hours.

"You are going like this over my dead body, girl! What are people gonna say? That you don't have a mother!" Iolanda chased her daughter around the living room. "Fix this skirt!"

"But mom! All the girls are wearing it like this!" Ana Maria whined and as soon as she saw Glorinha enter with Lydia, she pointed. "Look! Look at the skirt that girl is wearing, it's much shorter than mine!"

"This new generation is a lost cause…" Iolanda murmured seeing the state of the girl. "Young lady, what happened to you? Why are your tights all ripped like this? Was it an accident?"

"No, I bought them like this," Lydia chuckled.

"Then someone played you, sweetheart."

"Mrs. Iolanda, Lydia needs a place to stay and some ice for her hand. Some rogues tried to take advantage of her," Glorinha explained.

"Of course… no offense, my darling, but look at your clothes! Not even at the beach I see girls showing so much skin," she went to get the ice. "We do have a room, it's a little cheaper if you pay for the whole month. Breakfast is included in the price and the other meals are paid separately."

"Yes, of course, I think I'll pay for the whole month since I don't have a way back home," Lydia sighed, letting Iolanda place the ice on her hand. "Do you take pounds?"

"Pounds? British pounds?"

"Yes, I just arrived from England."

"Of course!" Her eyes lit up when she imagined how fancy she would seem going to exchange pounds for cruzeiros at the bank. "I just need to check the conversion rate so I don't end up at a loss… not to sound greedy, but nobody gives me anything!"

[gyuscoquetteribbon]

svt headcanons (crimes they'd be arrested for)

-> warnings: not anything in particular! It's pretty lighthearted <3

-> a/n: this is my first post ayyyy I've been wanting to get back into writing after my two year break and yeah :3 thought I'd just start with something light ig. my asks are open so you can send headcannon ideas !! id love to write about them !!

Seungcheol:

money laundering.

except its probably fake news and he was only suspected because people don't understand how bro is adorned in designer wear from head to toe even though he earns millions every year

Jeonghan:

online fraud.

definitely would try to sell severely damaged products online just to get rid of them and you can't even get spare parts to repair them because they're eons old

Joshua:

shoplifting.

i just know bro is SICK and TIRED of not being able to pay using card at certain stores in other countries so one day he just snaps and decides to throw whatever he needs into his bag and leave (he obviously fails at it)

Jun:

damage to public property.

he broke the bars that were meant for kids to hang onto.

Hoshi:

trespassing.

idk he just looks like he'd find a way into places even if there's barbed wires surrounding the area. its the furry in him.

also for speeding.

Wonwoo:

idk the term for it but illegal attainment of paid products from video games.

like bro definitely tried to cheat the system and sent a mail to the game services saying he paid for the weapons or whatever in whatever game he fancies even though he never paid for it just so he could have it for free (he was obviously caught)

Woozi:

cutie patootie could never do anything wrong 💗 (Physical assault except those claims were false. a passerby just happened to see him chase one of his fellow members ((mingyu)) with a guitar and thought he was gonna beat em up)

The8:

the government is scared of him.

Mingyu:

for not carrying his driver's license.

bro's luck is saur bad sometimes i just know he'd get pulled over on a day where he DOESNT have his driver's license with him.

Dk:

accidental tax evasion 😭

this applies for hoshi too. i can just picture them both seeing woozi filling out important documents and they ask him about it and woozi just mumbles 'paying my taxes' and these 2 adorable fools go 'WAIT OH MY GOD ITS TIME TO PAY TAXES ALREADY?????' and they're panicking and running around bc they do NOT wanna be shakira-fied

Seungkwan:

public nuisance 💔

all he did was argue with the bus driver for driving past his stop without even waiting long enough for him to get out of the bus (i'll personally get him out of jail)

Vernon:

i think he'd somehow manage to be a prime suspect for a crime that he did not even commit.

or illegal possession of weed in his car idk

Dino:

for being a part of a cult.

i just know he'd accidentally find himself in a cult and doesn't know how to get out of it without being their next sacrifice

[richardsphere]

Leverage Log: the Lonely Hearts Job

Well with a name like that, im expecting this to either be about con-artists cheating people on E-harmony, or a legitimately tragic story about love and/or loss...

---

Ok so Rich man arrives with armed goons (heck of a way to make a fist impression) and is crying within 2 minutes of the episode starting... I've said before that i want to see more of the marks' humanised so this promises to be an interesting episode. Nate: "There's no evidence of wrongdoing, She left you" Sophie (to nate): "thats harsh" Wellesley the fourth: "no it isnt".

This is a guy who knows how it looks, understand that it looks that way and acknowledges it openly. Its nice to see us go from last episode's overly naive Hurley to one of the more competent clients we've seen so far. "Whatever you want... its yours. Just find my wife".

I wonder whats going through Nate's mind in this moment. Here's a guy he's been scouting as a mark begging to be taken as a client...

Gut feeling: The second wife (the one who is missing) was actually the type of golddigger it looks like, but accounting for episode name. Its gonna be one of those "the mask grows to fit you" situations where they actually fell for the guy.

---

So Hardisons analysis implies this guy is like, legit as clients go. He's inherited old money not new money, which is the difference between "evil billionaire CEO" and "Born with privilege, gonna use it how I can". Basically: His great granpa would've been a Leverage mark, but he himself is a legit philantropist.

Meanwhile missing wife may in fact be a black widow. (luckily this client has his own goonsquad to protect him, so we dont need to leave Elliot behind to protect him)

---

Parker extremely annoyed she's not allowed to steal any of the rich folks' jewelry at the auction. The Boys deciding to have an auction-shaped dick-measuring contest.

Hardison wins the bid, we are reminded that one of Sophie's aliases is a duchess.

Ok so its an entire army of Sophie's.

Need to fight the ringleader, "pick a fight with Hardisons date". Well she did what you asked her to!

--- "I promise next time, i'll use the word argument instead of fight." Clear Comunication! If only people IRL would learn this lesson.

And once more the little Parker moments "what's a Hohe Minnie?", she's consistently the only member of the Young Thieves who takes an interest in the other people's jobs in the cons they're running. She's definitly being primed as Nate's eventual replacement (wether permanent or temporary).

---

Nate's pajama's. Sophie is loving the idea of a con where Nate has to "pretend" to wine-and-dine her.

I agree with Elliot, the moment it turned out they were grifters, the bet was off. But also, like that we once again get a nod at his cooking skills. "do you want me to teach you about the wines again?" "thats hurtfull and presumptious... but yes."

--- I love the way that Elliot punching the guy out is framed as a shot, good transition. Elliot bribing the guitarist, photographers commentary is great. "I picked you", such a simple statement, Every other member of the group was recruited by Dunevich, but Nate brought Sophie.

---

They found the wife. Suprisingly she isnt dead. (Meredith seems competent enough to tie off that loose end, and i think she could've exposited on the similarity to Nate falling in love with "The Duchess". But then, without recovering the wife Nate doesnt get to have a Favor for use in the season climax)

Seeing the gifts... Im 100% certain Elliot improv'd the guitar as well, that wasnt actually a Nate plan. Just Elliot.

Final tease with Latimer, he's a bit too much of a nothing-character to be truly intimidating, which means either the showrunners are making a mistake somewhere, or he's about to take a big fall to sell the credibility of the guy who he just called. Wait.... i just got a brainniggle. The story he tried to spin to Nate: "Someone stole a guy's patents", thats the same lie used in episode 1 of season 1. This in the same episode that had a reminder about the difference with Sophie and the other members of the team (on the subject of how they joined the team)

Is Latimer working for the Episode 1 mark? Or is my brain just doing that "i've connected the dots" meme?

Guess i'll see in time.

[mysteriouswolf]

Hi :3

Hey! Glad you somehow found your way here throughout this chaotic hellsite :D

I typically go by Mysterious or Raven, I'm a minor, and I use she/they pronouns

I mainly post about Hermitcraft/life series, but here's a bunch of my other interests as well :D

Mcyt (lil bits of dsmp, qsmp, empires, Xlife, + some others)

Alice Oseman (Heartstopper, IWBFT, etc)

Brandon Sanderson (Skyward, Cosmere, etc)

Percy Jackson

The Owl House

Good Omens

She-Ra and the Princesses of Power

Kipo And The Age Of The Wonderbeasts

Persona (though I've only played 3-5)

Epic the musical (I was peer pressured by @royallygray /j)

Writing

Music/guitar

Reading

Art in general :3

The art in my pfp is by @kaereth and the art on my header is by @chrisrin!! (both amazing artists that you should totally go give a follow to)

DNI if you're homophobic, transphobic, or plan on spreading hate to people here.

If you are my mutual, I will probably tag you in a lot of tag games, lil things I think you would like, etc, so if you don't want me to tag you please send me and ask or message me!! Also, I don't tag every single one of my muts in every tag game, and I don't have any sort of system to how I choose, so if you see I didn't tag you in something IT DOESNT MEAN I DONT LOVE YOU I PROMISE (and feel free to join in anyways!!)

Please do not send me asks for donations for reasons here:

I am likely to block you if you do, as I have now clearly stated that it is against my boundaries.

Under the cut are: tags I use, some encouragement + love, some of my mutuals, and just general nonsense.

Tags (that I sometimes use) :D

#mysteriouswrites- All my writing (including stories, fics, poetry, etc)

#mysteriousanswers- My answers to asks :D

#mysteriousdraws- My art + sketches

#rambling- my silly lil random posts

#fave- MY MOST FAVORITE ART EVER THAT I THINK IS JUST AWESOME AND GO FERAL OVER

Some love for anyone who needs it:

I love you. I don't care if I've never met you, we were made from the same things as the stars, weren't we? That in of itself is beautiful- I will love you with the same mysterious adoration I have for the stars, and I just want you to know that I care about you. And I know sometimes things seem like they'll never be better, that it seems the entire universe is against you, but I'll always be on your side. You've got this. And I'm proud of you, no matter what you've done. Things get better eventually, I know they will- and it sucks waiting for things to come around, especially if they keep going down. But the sun has shone before, and it will again. And even in your darkest times, the stars are still shining their light into your soul to push you forward.

I love you. Stay strong.

Some of my mutuals who I love very dearly and would die for:

@royallygray The most amazing lovely creature to ever walk the stars and I love them to death <3

@charbeloved The person who I would literally sell my soul to, another glorious human who's remarkable

@geodetojoy Someone who I'd absolutely love to just run away into the forest with and never find our way back out again

@emmaestrella Another lovely silly human who's just incredible

@izoexa you are. so cool. just. vibes. yeah. :]

@t4tgempearl Juneeeeee (you will always be june to me) you're also just. super cool. probably who I've been muts the longest on this list :D

I love you all <3

[burritosandpeppermint]

UUUUGGGGGHHHHH

uuuuggggghhhhh

I'm not 100% sure how we got back here, folks, but I'm 100% obsessing over music and guitars for the first time since I was a teenager.

Guys...it's bad.

And for those who've known me for a long time here you may be hearing about this for the first time, but I could not get enough of playing guitars, reading about guitars, and listening to as much guitar music as I could when I was a teenager.

Could I actually play? Not really. I mean, not if you're talking about any lessons at all or trying to learn from a book or anything. I just kind of picked it up and kept playing around for years, just laying down riff after riff and playing with solo after solo. Just fucking around.

And then, eventually, I needed money and didn't have space anymore and I had to sell everything. I thought that door was closed by the time I was in my early 20's, starting to really work for a living and trying to live an adult's life. I looked back on those years a bit wistfully but with a real feeling that I had left childish things behind me...

Until the last month or so. I think I can point the finger squarely at us attending the Guns N' Roses show. Even with 100° F heat and me wishing that I had brought my earplugs I got swept away with it all, specifically with Slash. He'd change guitars regularly, usually for something that I was familiar with him playing. After the show I got curious and looked up his gear online to discover the web pages devoted to his guitars and his playing in general. Then I started Googling some guitars to see if they're still around, and any variations...and how have amps changed in the last 25 years...oh, emulators sure have come a long way...and they're fairly affordable...and while Fender's lineup has changed significantly since the 90s they still have a lot of decent guitars at reasonable prices...

All the while I'm also getting back into bands and songs I haven't heard in up to decades, just gorging myself on all the 90s rock I also "put away" at some point in my 20s, like one of my favorite bands, Hum, and getting into groups I could have really dug at the time, like My Bloody Valentine, and exploring newer stuff like finally getting more into Red Fang's discography...and then new bands and sounds spiraling off of those listens and searches...

And guys...GUYS...since I was into guitars this whole internet thing exploded, so I can hear guitars and amps and pedals and interviews that simply weren't available to me when I was previously obsessed. I can get a far better sense for things than driving an hour away to the nearest Guitar Center only to keep my hands in my pockets as I look at gear and equipment, too afraid to do anything in public, eventually going home and noodling by myself for a while.

And did you know that there are a ton of free or paid online classes where you don't have to interact with a human if it makes you feel self-conscious or anxious? And did you know that the Fender Mustang Micro Amp can fit in your pocket, has some EQ and preset sound options, a headphone jack, and can plug directly into your computer? And it's only $120 for an amp that's more versatile than the one I had 30 years ago AND it can help you can basically use it as a direct-to-computer recording device? And, holy crap, but GarageBand, while simple, is still a very competent recording suite and it's just free, right there on my Mac and everything?

Okay, breathing.

Because this is how it goes for me. I get all interested in something, all wound up, and I imagine how cool things can be, what I'll do, how things will turn out, all with an overactive imagination, until I'm just done with it and I move on. Except I don't know if I move on because I never follow through or if it's because I just fixate on things in a capricious manner. If it's because I never follow through then I should change that by following through (hello, writing ideas from five months ago that turned into nothing). But if it's because I'm capricious then I should just let it be and it'll ride itself out.

Now: how can I tell the difference without a lot of time, money, and effort? That's the question.

But it's been kinda fun as a weird hobby, just looking and reading and watching and listening. Maybe the fear of disappointment will be enough to keep me away from actually doing it, which isn't great, and maybe I should pursue more things that I think will bring me joy, even if I never truly get into it or keep it going for long, because life is short and pursuing happiness should be one of life's goals.

[cbjustmusic]

In a very rare musical collaboration Joan Armatrading plays guitar on a Little Simz’s performance of “Heart on Fire”. ______________________ Heart on Fire Songwriters: Dean Josiah Cover, Cleopatra Nikolic and Simbiatu Ajikawo

Look, honesty between a seller and a buyer should be a given But man, I didn't know you were a liar Dropped outta college, still I made it through the wire We was tryna hustle whatever was 10 just for a fiver "Don't sell yourself short, miss", said the driver Was on my way to getting caught in the cross fire I mean, lavish living, dripping designer "Who you wearing", they so enchanted by attire

Hearts on fire, I bought the dream with every penny that I acquired It's a set-up, and you'll be next up to those prior Devil works hard, but the business works harder I vowed from now to work smarter They won't do it like us For the people, by us Why they wanna fight us? Spirit on higher God make truth of everything I desire

I don't need much as long as I got my baby, he a rider He sitting beside her, that's who she confide in They want you conniving, creeping with your side ting Making up a story that equals somebody buying New world order, 'cause life as we know is dying Not thriving, it's only a matter of timing, ain't it just Funny how you can literally give your everything Somebody gonna turn around and tell you you ain't gave enough

Danger, what you afraid of? Acknowledging it's impossible now to restrain her Worst thing I could've done is put trust in a stranger But that needed to happen for me only to wake up The suits will get in your ear when your shit popping Lies over flowing, and they ain't stopping You don't even recognise who it is that you're becoming They don't give a shit long as the gravy train running

My life is a blessing But it comes with the stresses And I can take it all Just don't let me down, when I'm in the fire

We all start off so pure Do it for the love, nothing more Nah, maybe to cop mum a house but nothing more Maybe to sort my cousin out but nothing more Maybe I'll get the new coupe and nothing more 15 to 100 shoes nothing more By the time you know it, that list never stop growing Then you don't know what you even do this for

Hearts on fire hearts on grandeur Ballroom gowns as champagne pours Is the after party a social party? With everybody talking the music should've been paused Marble floors, and tall glass doors is what you're in for Did you read the clause? It was never about looking for results Now, every time you do something, you need an applause

Please keep your head on when you're going through the maze 'Cause navigating the fame is something you're never trained for Tell me what you came for Wanted better days and now you're running away from that very thing you prayed for Tell me am I tripping or is the light blinding? Am I anxious or am I excited? Am I calm, or am I unbothered? Or maybe I needed my fire to be ignited? Hearts on

My life is a blessing But it comes with the stresses And I can take it all Just don't let me down, when I'm in the fire

My life is a blessing But it comes with the stresses And I can take it all Just don't let me down, when I'm in the fire

[yesyourstalker]

Part 3 I'm almost done I hope. I'm being honest I spent 3 hours cooking in 4 hours sleeping after

Warabi: so this is the store pretty big

Neta: Oh yeah, It's a pretty big place I'm going to need a lot of vendors and more artists to sell here. My main worry is that I lose my brand and my image , If we started out with underground bands, alternative music like metal and rock. If I start selling mainstream stuff I don't want to come off as a sellout

Warabi: I don't think that's going to happen. It's not like you're going to stop selling underground stuff it's not like you're going to stop supporting them either. You're just expanding your business to a broader audience the fact, you're worrying about your image and your brand just shows that you still care about your original customers.

Oshi: That's some great advice ink drop!

Warabi: mom!!! Uhhh what are you doing here?.... I thought you were on whale back island.... To get away from the snow

Oshi: we were planning on doing that until you're wonderful boss invited us to the party. I just couldn't miss that right shim?

Shimi: [eating] how much was the caterer here? These stuffed tentacles are good! Melts in the mouth.... This is the store? really big. You sure you have enough stuff to sell in here or are you going to stock 10 Rows of belts and jewelry to fill space?

Warabi: dad! That's rude!

Shimi: It's a genuine question. Do you have a layout plan or anything? What's the look you're trying to do

Neta:my original store kind of has a basement/ attic-like design, old vintage t-shirts, guitars, vinyl. someone's garage type feel.

Oshi: Oh so nostalgia... I like that

Shimi: I know a lot of people who are very good in interior design... [ eating] we just got our vacation home remodeled...... I can see if I can give you his number. Tell him the octavios sent you. They'll give you a discount.

Neta: thank you Mr. Octavio. I deeply appreciate this

Shimi: well that should count as a frosty fest gift cuz we didn't get you anything we didn't think we had to

Neta: oh That's good because you didn't have to do that. .

Warabi: Dad,.... That are really nice moment and then you had to ruin it with the last- what the fuck?

Oshi: ink drop language!

Warabi: I'm sorry just give me one second....

_______________________________________________

Candi: Candi!?!

Candi: *gasp* oh my Cod! Shut the hell up. Are you kidding me? What are you doing here?!! Ahhhhhh

Candi: ahhhhhh Oh my god it's been so long!! girl What are you up to?

Candi: Oh you know. Just trying to survive.

Candi: I hear that, I hear that I looove makeup!

Candi: stop lying. I just smeared this shit on at the last minute hehehe you know I have no sense of time.

Mizole: I didn't know you knew each other. How do you know candi?

Candi: That's really none of your business

Candi: I don't have to tell you everything about my personal life. Go find Ichiya or something. Bye. Go.. cod that guy

Candi: Right.... He drives me out the wall everyday.

Candi: you know they dated?

Candi: hahaha Oh my Cod you have to tell me.... Oh crap...no no no ... I have to go. I'll be right back I promise. Just give me one sec girlie

_______________________________________________

Ikkan: so I yeah Mike Murrays actually played the sax around-

Baja: around 1989! But when Blue Ocean breeze came out-

Tao: He switched to a clarinet! It was like his staple instrument throughout the '90s.

Baja: He actually went through like five clarinets throughout those years. I think he's probably one of the most popular non-pop or rock idles out there.. but he's been gone for like 8 years and it somehow we still all know him

Ikkan: he Pioneered jazz..

Tao: oh yeah I'm a big fan of their later works it really influenced the ska genre

Ikkan: you see I used to dislike his later work when I saw The influencer had on other genre I took another like listen to it. It's really good! It's like an organized mess

Baja: right?! It's chaotic but smooth. He actually went to jelly Port for a tour and met up with Sting time stingers back in 01 which I guess gave him more of an influence to the newer albums

Tao: It's a Shame he died before they could release the album with the stingers I know there's a demo out there they release but it's hard to find

Ikkan: I've been trying to find it there is a specific website and the URL is in octarian so I'm trying to get Neta to- hm .... I'm sorry will excuse me for a quick sec.

_______________________________________________

Mahi: why the fuck are you here?!

Taka: I was invited of course. I can't miss an opportunity to be around my fellow artist. Why are you here you have no talent.

Mahi: I'm here because Neta wants me here! unlike you! You think we forgot how you treated him!

Taka: *pffth*.... how I treated him. As if taking him out to dinner, giving him a gift and being at his beckon call when he felt "lonely". He was honestly really sad.... But he is a sad person....boy he was hot tho...heh ..was

Mahi: you want to take this outside

Warabi: Mahi hay! the table is all out of drinks let's go get some more.

Candi: yeah let's just go to corner store. Their self checkout is still open let's just get some more wine and spritzer I am sober so I can drive so let's go. Let's go now. Mahi.

Mahi: [staring down taka]

Ikkan: mahi please don't ruin this event by a fight. Neta will never forgive you if you do.... Listen, go with Candi and Warabi and I'll handle this...

Mahi:...... Fine. .... I'll wait until the party ends

Ikkan: I'll get the bouncer.. kick them out before Neta - hi babe.

Neta: what happened? Why did everyone rush over here

Ikkan: Hi uhhh You're three employees are just going out to get some more refreshments they just didn't know how to

Neta: We have more in the back of my car they don't have to go out and......... Oh I see.....hey Taka......... I forgot I invited high tide

Taka: I was good to see you too. You look............ Uh

Neta:.............

Taka: I guess you stuck to the normal look huh... I like the glasses.....heheh..you look great heheheh . Man you let yourself go holy shit

Ikkan:ok that's it SECURITY!

Neta:.............. .. I'm going to get some air

Ikkan: I'll come with you.

_______________________________________________

Mahi and @fish-at-fish-fish-resort and gonna beat the shit out of taka after the party

[dollarbin]

Dollar Bin #12:

Mickey Newbury's Live at Montezuma Hall / Looks like Rain

I don't recommend you storm your local Dollar Bin in desperate search of this double album from Mickey Newbury.

Rather, I insist that you do so. Now.

You're still sitting there, so I'll explain what you'll get for your dollar: a seemingly unedited concert from 73 on Disc 1, and a full reissue of Newbury's 69 studio record, Looks Like Rain, as a bonus disc.

Today, on its own, copies of Looks Like Rain cost $30 to $100 or more. And that's if you are lucky enough to find a copy. As near as I can tell, just about all of Newbury's catalog is stone cold out of print in every purchase format from download to 8 track. Newbury's grandkids must have Ph.D's in economics and some kind of master plan; or they're just pissed.

But fret not. No one need pound the pavement or their discogs keyboard. No one need take out a home loan for a copy of the original record. Looks Like Rain is waiting for you in the Dollar Bin, attached to the Montezuma concert. I saw four available copies last week alone.

And so, let me now declare that this double album Is The Soundest Investment Of 2023. You heard it here first day traders: don't buy low; don't sell high. Buy Mickey Newbury.

Let's start with Looks Like Rain.

1969 was a pretty big year in music, yes? Astral Weeks and Electric Ladyland came out in late 68, so let's start the countdown of epic greatness there. The Velvet Underground, Five Leaves Left, Everybody Knows This is Nowhere, Dusty in Memphis, Abby Road, The Band, Songs from a Room, Let it Bleed, At San Quentin, In a Silent Way, Clouds: 1969 is not a good year in music, it's The Best Year in Music. Fairport Convention managed to release not just one, but three timeless records all in that one year.

You won't find Looks Like Rain listed alongside those albums on any best-of lists. But that's only because people are dumb. After all, look at the current presidential polling.

Newbury's 69 record offers glorious space between every note, much like Van Morrison's phrasing in Astral Weeks' or Young's soloing in Down By the River. Take a listen to She Even Woke Me Up To Say Goodbye. The percussion and choir are barely there; a song that could be 45 seconds long, start to finish, gloriously stretches itself out to shimmer and glow, then gives way to the pulsing rain.

Newbury's lyrics throughout this record are often timeless, much like Leonard Cohen's own writing from that year. Sure, no one, short of T.S. Eliot with his patient etherized on a table, can stand alongside Cohen when he compares a bird on a wire to a drunk in a midnight choir, and no one else in that, or maybe any, year could rewrite Genesis's story of Issac as an updated Masters of War complete with a peacock waiving its fan, but Newbury offers us miniaturized perfections that set the stage for Kris Kristofferson's imminent arrival the following year. Just listen to him describe a lost love:

It's not her heart Lord, it's her mind.

She didn't mean to be unkind.

Why, she even woke me up to say goodbye.

I could go on and on. The album, with its sitars, sound effects and transitional whistling, is as experimental for country music as Abby Road or In a Silent Way were for pop and jazz respectively. Newbury's vocals ache and individualize - no one else will ever sing like this - in ways Lucinda Williams, Tom Waits and Tom Petty would spend their entire careers emulating. Nothing here is dull; everything is wholly original. I'd happily eat Newbury's poison red berries any day; and I'd chase them down with Van's cherry wine.

Just listen to T. Total Tommy. The rain gives way to a Fotheringay-like guitar piece that merges with Kenny Buttrey's insistent cymbal work (which he'd forever cement in all our minds through Heart of Gold two years later) and a beautifully bent bass line. Newbury overlays this lovely tension with his own midnight choir, finger snaps and lead vocals that are somehow wise, sad and joyful all at once. Some men kill with bullets, Newbury tells us. Others, use a pen. I'd happily listen to 16 more verses of this song but Newbury shuffles off early as we rush to flip the record.

And remember: this is just 1/2 of what you get from this Dollar Bin diamond.

Live from Montezuma Hall finds Newbury playing the part of Jerry Jeff Walker's wise uncle. At the same time Walker was guzzling Sangria in Luckenbach, Newbury was greeting his audience with humble, often incomprehensible, hilarity. But sides of the record start with Newbury rambling, first about a pot smoker halfway up in the audience, then second about a neighbor of his parents' hound dogs. I have no idea what he's saying some of the time but I love every moment, and I can understand why Kristofferson, Jennings and Nelson all bowed down to this guy even though the record buying public largely ignored him.

Both of his side opening rambles give way to foot stompers, then we dive straight into some of the best white guy soul music I know of. But there's a problem lurking on Side 2...

I imagine that one of the biggest reasons Newbury's music hasn't taken off this century is the nature of his most famous song, An American Trilogy, which Elvis co-opted throughout the 70s. I'm a dad to three cool kids and they always perk up when Newbury is playing in the house. But every time American Trilogy starts up on the turntable I rush to turn it off. It's 2023. Black Lives Matter, and no one reasonable, including me, is real excited to hear Confederate marching music, even if Newbury is doing the singing.

It's a shame. If Newbury, who died over 20 years ago, had lived to see the present moment, he'd have had the chance to speak about the song and put things in better perspective. Gordon Lightfoot did a wonderful job with this kind of thing at the end of his life by frankly apologizing for the mysogenistic nature of many of his early songs.

Not everyone gets this kind of thing right though. Stephen Stills is still alive and well, and he has yet to apologize for his entire body of work. He should do so.

Now, I know nothing about Newbury's politics or attitude towards people of color. But, happily, a full listen to Live At Montezuma offers a strong potential defense against the idea that he was a racist through and through. His intro to Cortelia Clark, and the song itself, offers, to my privileged white ears anyway, the strong hope that Newbury could be deeply thoughtful and caring towards people less privileged than himself.

Okay, we talked all that through. Let's go out on a high note, shall we? Take a listen to another of Newbury's timeless classics, this one from Frisco Mabel Joy, then go spend all your hard earned cash on every Newbury record your local Dollar Bin offers. I promise great returns on your investment.

Hope you all are well. Thanks for reading.

[artdecosupernova-writing]

OC Kiss Week Day 7: Sloppy

WIP: WASTE Pairing: Guetry x Oren Timeline: before shit went down, obviously CW: drug use, drug mention, sexual situations Rating: M Words: 845

***

Playing a show while zooted to oblivion on reaver rock has always been one of my favorite things to do.

Alec hated it, of course, but she always preferred me to be high under her supervision rather than to do it alone, or, worse yet, with Oren. However, despite spending the majority of my high times around her—on show nights, anyway—I still had to go back home to Oren.

And sometimes that was even worse than the drug.

One night in particular, I dragged myself through the front door of my Node apartment to find him sitting on the couch, a pipe already prepped for me and outstretched in my direction.

"Man, I dunno," I muttered, propping my beat guitar against the wall. "I'm coming down hard."

"This'll help," he said. "You'll sleep better."

I sighed and rubbed my hands over my face...my soft face, my pillow face that always puffed up when I was coming down. Sticky with dried sweat and warm, and gross. "Yeah, I feel like shit."

He handed me the pipe as I dropped onto the couch beside him and lit up.

"You didn't come to the show?"

"Nah," Oren said, wrapping an arm around me. He loved it when I was at my lowest, loved it when I didn't have the energy to be anything but pathetic. "I was tired. I'll be there next time, garçon."

He never was.

The smoke in my lungs numbed my skin and once the air started to feel like fur, I climbed onto Oren's lap and drowned him in lazy kisses, peeled his shirt from his body, and marked his shoulders with my teeth.

I'm taller than him, but not by much, yet it always surprised me when he could maneuver me by carrying me or laying me over the coffee table, or even the times he would fuck me against the wall or...whatever. Truly, the sex was nothing special. As it was happening the rock made it seem mind-blowing, which I think was part of the reason Oren would make sure I was high when we did it half the time.

Another reason was that he liked to test his products on me, too, but that's neither here nor there.

I left my room as common morning broke and started to put the rock away, head pounding and the rest of me sore from being a bit too rough with Oren. He came out sometime later to find me still trying to tidy up, which was slow going due to having just been body-checked by a passing lenayan dreadnought.

"No, no," he said, taking the box of rock from me and setting it back on the coffee table before I could stuff it into my stash safe. "This is the one I'm selling later."

"Oh, shut the fuck up," I groaned.

He grinned. "I could make you breakfast. How's that sound?"

"I guess." I grabbed a beer from the fridge and sat at the island in the kitchen. "How much is this haul gonna net you?"

"Twenty-five easy," Oren said, bare chest puffed with pride as he baconed my eggs and sausaged my toast. I don't know what that means, either. "How much you need for that new drum set you wanted to give Alec?"

I waved the thought away, nursing the cold bottle and relieved the headache was on its way out. "I've got enough. I just got my deposit from the vineyard the other day."

"Right, right." Oren glanced at me from the stove. "That reminds me...how's Gisella been, d'you know?"

At the mention of my mom, my hand tightened around the beer and I turned a lethal glare onto him. "And why the hell do you want to know that?"

"I'm just curious."

"I told you to stay away from her. She's actually trying to get clean for once."

He shrugged. "Okay, relax. I just..." He grimaced and took the pan off the heat. "Well, this is, what, attempt five? You don't really believe it'll stick after so long, do you?"

The smell of food and the physical hell racking my bones were the only things keeping me from vaulting over the island counter and braining my boyfriend with the frying pan. That was a startling realization, but I didn't feed the intrusive thought too much. "You see why it's extremely fucked that her former drug dealer is pretending to be concerned about her trying to get clean, yes?"

Oren, sensing that I had cleared the pathetic stage and was no longer in the headspace to take his shit, nodded. "You're right. I'm sorry, garçon."

I rolled my eyes and took the plate of food from him. "Come eat with me."

We shared breakfast, which helped return some of my strength to me. I showered and lit up again, which returned the rest of it, and then I left the Node altogether for an assignment I was given to take down an allegiant base on Voka.

And if you were wondering, yeah, my mom relapsed the next week. Wonder why.

[dancing-to-architecture]

23 - Van Halen - 1984

Starting with a sentence that is pretty much guaranteed to piss off my dad: i was never a big Van Halen fan. (Look, if you heard "Right Now" as many times as i did growing up, you'll understand.)

That said, a few of the songs on this one are among the songs by them that i do actually like, and the cover art cracks me up every time i see it.

Also, my wife is exactly one day older than this album, and i just think that's neat.

• 1984-

Spacy synthy intro song. Not what i was anticipating this album to start off like. Kinda dig it, though.

•Jump-

An absolute classic. As I'm fond of saying: "it ain't about the fall down, it's about the bounce back", and that's the whole idea of this one.

Also, that guitar solo is fucking insane.

•Panama-

One of the songs that broke Noriega, and i think the govt used it solely because of the irony of the title being used against a Panamanian asshole dictator.

Personally, i like the idea of using songs over bombs in combat. Fewer pieces of bodies to pick up afterwards.

That said, what the actual fuck does the nation of Panama have to do with this song that's about a hot lady being described somewhat like a sports car? The world may never know.

Fuckin banger, though.

•Top Jimmy-

(But, i hardly know Jimmy!)

Holy shit, Eddie, are your fingers okay? Because goddamn that's some fast fingering on those harmonics.

Top Jimmy cooks, you say? Well, let him fuckin cook!

Another kick-ass solo, naturally.

Didn't know this one before today, but it fuckin slaps.

•Drop Dead Legs-

To be honest, i always figured Diamond Dave was a tits man, but apparently he also appreciates "a giant butt". Good for him.

All in all, gotta say that ZZ Top wrote the better leg-song.

•Hot for Teacher-

A song that has been relevant a number of times in my life, and that's all I'm gonna say on that matter.

That drum intro absolutely whips ass, and the guitar coming in only makes it better.

It's a little skeevy, lyrics-wise, but overt horniness can't stop it from being an all-time banger.

•I'll Wait-

Oh, that early-to-mid 80s synth. 😍

Kind of a weird one, since it's literally just about jerking off while looking at a legally-distinct-from-a-Playboy magazine. Not the best song on the album, for sure, but it's interesting enough to keep my attention.

I still can't believe this was a single, though.

At the end of the day: the centerfold isn't gonna fuck you, dude. Oh wait, shit, you're David Lee Roth... never mind, yeah, she might, actually. Go for it, bro.

•Girl Gone Bad-

"I'm in love with a prostitute", the spiritual prequel to "I'm in Love With a Stripper", i guess?

•House of Pain-

Just couldn't fuck dirty enough for that girl, could ya? Or, from a different, much darker point of view, kinda feels a little Josef Fritzl-y.

So, yeah, this album is pretty fucking great, (surprising nobody, considering it's their best-selling album).

Funny (but also lame as shit) fact: "The front cover was censored in the UK at the time of the album's release. It featured a sticker that obscured the cigarette in the putto's hand and the pack of cigarettes.".

For real... Are y'all okay over there?

Favorite Track: Hot for Teacher. Every aspect of it just kicks ass.

Least Favorite Track: House of Pain. On one hand, it's creepy. On the other hand, it's very creepy.

[violetsystems]

I don't have much to complain about. Still getting used to the new schedule but I think it's set. It's work but it's with nice people. I have an office. I share one but it's a working one. I work from home one full day and two half days. My boss is a drummer. I played bass. I played guitar too. Rhythm guitar. So fuck a guitar solo. I bought tekken 8 deluxe version. Deep pockets. I did some practicing with Azucena, Reina, and Yoshimitsu. Those are the three I'll probably stick with on a rotating basis. Feels less block and more parry. Faster rhythm. The music is weird in a good way. There is a reason I waited to be employed before buying it. But it's nice to have to worry less. I still need to unwind a bit and get everything back in order. But it isn't as much of a struggle as an adjustment. This is a career job and it balances nice with my past experience. I know how to thrive in that kind of atmosphere in a low key way. And I think there's ways to maintain more balance in my personal life too. I'll probably have something to work with tomorrow long form. It's fucked up to feel so angry for so long and figure it out largely by yourself. It's no Chanel perfume commercial or anything. I'm not going to shade Timmy. Bleu is definitely the scent I've been wearing. Real drama. Has already happened before you had a chance to fetishize it. Selling out? Work life balance. A salary man over acting any day. I have to act public every day riding that damn train. And bus. I get it though. Rich people world is a whole different layer. Global socialism doesn't really get the red carpet. Especially if it's stained with blood. I'm a writer I can acquiesce like that. I did hear a really great sermon and blessing recently for Gaza. And it felt nuanced enough to realize I belong with those who appreciate nuance. Which has always been a nuanced approach when it comes to me. So if I sound like I'm complaining. Read between the nuance and understand I'm not mad. I just have integrity. Which I invest very heavily in.

[stonewallsposts]

16 personalities questions: 22-24

I may post two of these per day since I'm getting through them more quickly than I thought. I had originally planned to do 3 statements per day, but I'm nearly a week ahead right now. 

22. You are definitely not an artistic type of person 

I beg your pardon! All kidding aside, I'm not sure where on the spectrum of left brain v right brain I fit. (I know, I know, there's no such thing... but in the common parlance.) I feel connected to almost any creative outlet that I come across and as a professional artist, I am absolutely an artistic person. But I also have a connection to the logical part too. Admittedly I'm not as adept at logic, found in its purest form in math, at which I'm terrible, as other people. In fact, math and I haven't been on speaking terms since 5th grade and long division. We traded some words, hard feeling ensued... I'd rather not talk about it.  

But I don't fit fully on the creative side either. There are a lot of traits of creative people, such as wanting to dress up for comic-con, that I don't seem to have.... at all.  

I went to NY once for work, where I was attending a training on drawing the Ni-Hao, Kai-Lan series. I knew one of the other invited artists through some work I had done at LeapFrog, and so we decided to spend some free-time hanging out together. He told me that even if he weren't being paid for art, he would still be doing it anyway since he loved it so much. He mentioned I probably felt the same way. I thought about it and said probably not. I don't know if I would be doing art if no one were paying me for it. Now I know artists who do almost nothing else. Even in their downtime, they are drawing, painting, working on projects. I do this stuff because I get paid. But I don't do it on my free-time. I have other things I want to do.  

But I love music, and it was never enough for me to just listen to it. I had to want to play it. I play guitar and bass, and I used to mess with keyboards when I lived at my parents' house. But since I don’t have the time to try and restart the keyboard, the one I have now is just sitting in my closet. In fact, I should sell that... but I digress... 

I was always good at the creative writing and literature part in English classes, and terrible at the sentence diagramming.  

23. You think the world would be a better place if people relied more on rationality and less on their feelings 

Well, having looked at the question in more detail now, I really don't accept the binary presented here. I do think that in general, we need to be more thoughtful, and particularly more respectful and forgiving in dealing with others, especially those with different viewpoints. Even if I don't agree with someone, I should start from the position that they aren't idiots and have reasons for why they believe what they believe. Listen to them and find out. It might even further inform my own position. 

24. You prefer to do your chores before allowing yourself to relax 

I'll lean slightly towards this statement.  

When moving, I can't really stop until everything is set up. 

When eating, I tend to eat the stuff I don't like before the stuff I do. I used to eat all the wheaty parts of the lucky charms first, so I'd have all marshmallows left. When I eat pop-tarts, I eat the edge that doesn't have any frosting and leave the frosted parts until the end. Now that I'm older and my mom isn't around to make me eat everything before I can get up from the table, I'll just eat what I want and toss the rest, but even now, if I like everything, but like one thing more, I'll tend to save it for last. I think this all  translates into a general desire to get the parts I prefer less out of the way. And I definitely prefer relaxing to chores.  

But I will also certainly take a break in the middle of a chore I need to do. So I do prefer to do the chores first, but I'm not compulsive about it at all. 

[callowaymp3]

Before tonight, Noah didn't think he'd ever said a full sentence to Poppy Martin. Part of it was sheer annoyance on Noah's part that made him keep his distance, and maybe even a little bit of resentment. Despite Ryan's insistence that Poppy was nice, known amongst their merry band of roadies as 'one of the good ones', Noah wondered just how much humanity these overpaid, privileged little popstars actually had. Was it possible to sell out shows every night and stay down-to-earth, maintaining a sense of morality and hell, general human goodness? The kind the masses claimed Poppy Martin had? He doubted it.

So, yeah, Noah kept his head down. Past a cursory nod every now and again in passing, or mumbling into the microphone during mic check, Noah had stayed the hell out of the band's way. As far as he was concerned it was a straight forward game of 'us' and 'them'. Poppy firmly in the 'them' category. He'd sneered at her showy displays of kindness, begrudgingly accepting the coffee he was sure her assistant had written off as a work expense before she ran off the scribble more inane lyrics in what he assumed was a pink, fluffy notebook. Nobody was that fucking nice. She was like Snow White on crack.

Safe to say, Noah hadn't ever expected that a woman he'd abrely uttered a sentence to would have her body pressed firmly against his as she stood clad in only a twee, lacy bra.

"Dingus?" Noah echoed, Poppy's words quietly reaffirming Noah's earlier judgement. Snow White on crack, in-fucking-deed.

His arms plastered to his side as they were, held in the straightjacket of Poppy's embrace, Noah couldn't even enjoy the press of Poppy's chest against the thin, threadbare band tee he currently donned. It was fraying in places, an old Springsteen shirt with too many holes, one he'd let Flynn borrow to sleep in a few nights previous and still smelled like him.

Managing to free his hand enough to gie her a tentative pat on the back, Noah's shoulders slumped as the singer disentangled herself from him, finally allowing the air to return to his lungs. She sure was tiny and mighty.

"Well, your nips sure look to be in place now. Crisis averted." he teased, moving furthur into the room. Setting the guitar case down on a small, leather couch that crowded the back corner of the room, Noah whistled in commendation of the space.

"They really pull out all the stops for you celebrities, huh?" Noah teased, the biting sarcasm evident in his tone. The whole room was bigger than his living room back in New York, and he had to share that with an enigmatic redhead who insisted on having pink cushion covers to 'brighten up' a space that was beyond saving.

Lowering himself onto the arm of the leather couch, Noah threw Poppy a smirk.

"Anyway, I just need to know if you want it on the bus with you tonight, s'all." he said, "Then I'll be outta your hair."

Lifting a finger, he gestured to her general state of undress.

"Though I'm sorry if I scared off your friend." he said, not sounding sorry in the slightest.

On-stage Poppy and off-stage Poppy were like two different people entirely. While playing to large crowds, the bassist liked to make like Natasha Bedingfield, release all of her inhibitions, and channel a version of herself that she wasn’t entirely sure was real. Poppy was deeply insecure about every aspect of her life – from her appearance to her personality, her songwriting skills and her presence on stage, all the way down to her friendships – and she regularly had a hard time trying to find a healthy balance that didn’t leave her sulking and hiding herself away from the world.  

She’d read the articles, seen all the cruel tweets, the callous comments left on her instagram posts – she'd even heard Maggie, loud and unthinking, as the other girl bashed her, calling her egotistical and full of herself. She knew how people viewed her and it stung, but up on that stage was some of the only time that Poppy could find it in herself to just let go. She bounced around with her bass, danced up against Diego, and even let her stylist put her in skimpy outfits that she’d never be caught wearing outside of these venues. Unfortunately, if people didn’t like it, there wasn’t a whole lot she could do about it. 

That night, she’d rushed off stage a lot faster than usual. With a quick peck to Henry’s cheek, she’d left her best friend looking mildly befuddled, though mostly amused, as she’d shot off to her dressing room. While it wasn’t entirely out of the norm for Poppy to want to slip into something more comfortable, she still liked to stick around and help the crew with cleanup. It wasn’t her job, but she liked to make herself useful!  

Tonight, however, she’d had an on-stage mishap. Clad in glittery, silver shorts and a corset to match, Poppy had been mortified when the zip on her corset had snagged on Diego’s mic stand, leaving her unceremoniously attached to the piece of equipment until her best friend managed to delicately free her, having to snap the pull on the zip in the process. With Tyler – their stylist – out on a smoke break, she’d had to rush to the side of the stage and ask somebody to safety pin her corset to stop it from slipping – the absolute last thing that she’d needed was for the whole thing to slip down and for 30,000 fans to have her bare breasts on video. 

As though the two of them were psychically linked – or, more likely, he was just very adept at his job – Tyler had been waiting patiently in her dressing room for her, a smug look on his face when she’d bounded through the door. 

With Poppy slipping out of the corset and throwing on the only bra she’d brought to the venue with her – a pink, floral piece that made her feel pretty – she'd handed the damaged goods over to Tyler and bestowed him with a huge kiss on the cheek, leaving him lipstick stained and flushed. 

“Oh! And tell Ciara I demand you get a bonus,” she called out after him as he left, giggling as she did so. Poppy had never made a demand on Ciara in her life – nor would she ever want to – but she loved Tyler and the work he did for the band, and she knew fine well he was long overdue a pay increase. Once they packed up and hit the road, she made a mental note to sit down and talk to Ciara about their crew’s wages; Diego was always telling her to leave it alone, that it wasn’t her problem if people were getting underpaid, but Poppy disagreed. They were a family, as far as she was concerned, and families looked out for eachother. 

Twirling on the spot to fix herself a stare in the mirror, she sighed. Her bra was pretty, and it made her feel like bottled summer on a cloudy day, but taking herself in, away from all the shining lights and the roar of the crowd, she couldn’t help but think she looked totally ridiculous. While her sparkly shorts might have made someone like Maggie look sexy, she couldn’t help but feel like a little girl playing dress up. 

Caught up in her own thoughts, it took Poppy a moment to realise she wasn’t alone. Eyes adjusting to her mirrored reflection, she noticed a figure behind her and whirled on the spot, eyes widening as they landed on Noah Calloway, one of the band’s roadies and the current object of Poppy Martin’s own, personal intrigue and daydreams. 

One thing about Poppy Martin was that she had a propensity for ill-advised crushes. They always started off innocent, just harmless infatuations with sweet boys that she spent time with, but more often than not they ended with Poppy hurting her own feelings. During Henry’s first few months in the band, she’d been bowled over by just how kind the boy was. Quiet and unsuspecting to some, he always seemed to have time for Poppy – a warm smile and teeming with support and encouragement each time she came to him with a new song, Poppy’s heart had been fit to burst. He was sweet, handsome, and enormously talented – she'd known almost immediately that she needed to quash that crush; Henry had no romantic interest in her, and one breakup in the band was enough to last them a lifetime, she thought. She spent a couple of embarrassing months pining from the back of the tour bus, scrawling love-sick lyrics into her notebook – a pink one donned with love hearts and Eevee stickers – before finally coming to her senses and putting it to bed. Then there was Louis – lovely, lyrical Louis. The two had struck up a friendship after bumping into each other a few years ago on a random tour stop in San Fran; they’d bonded over poetry and lyrics and she’d been taken by him immediately. Like clockwork, the attraction had not been mutual – the realisation had taken longer than she cared to admit, only coming to her one night months later as she’d watched his eyes trailing after Diego, the two slipping away into a darkened room and leaving Poppy to her own devices. And then there was Charlie. Charlie was sweet, a little bit reckless, and had a tendency to make her sick with worry – but he was gorgeous too, as bubbly and overly enthusiastic as she was, and a fantastic cuddler. She knew Charlie wasn’t interested in relationships, that much was clear to anybody that met the man, but that didn’t stop her from wanting. Admittedly, she’d seen the way he flirted tirelessly with Diego, had watched the practically ravenous ways his eyes roamed Henry every time he entered the room, and that was enough for her to call it a day. The last thing Poppy needed was to further tend to a crush only for him to start sleeping with one of her own friends – that would surely only end in heartbreak on her end. 

Noah, however, felt like an exception to the rule. He was a stranger, for all intents and purposes. Sure, he worked for the band, and she saw him more frequently than some of her closest friends, but they’d never exchanged more than two words – usually, Poppy brought their whole crew coffee and pastries before each show, with Noah scarcely sparing her so much as an upward glance or a thank you – so she didn’t really see the harm in thinking he was cute. True, she’d been leaving notes in her guitar case, or sometimes in the pocket of his jacket, but only because she wanted to get to know him. He seemed quiet – shy, maybe – and Poppy was nothing if not curious. She wanted to get to know all the people that she worked with, to learn about their passions, and understand what had brought them to join The Shattered Diamonds on the road in the first place. 

Noah, though, was just so pretty. Shy as he was, she found herself desperate to needle information out of him, to coax a smile from those otherwise sullen lips of his. However, stood in front of him, her body on display, she couldn’t help but feel embarrassed. Her cheeks flushed pink, and she wrapped a protective arm around her tummy, hoping with all her might that she was coming across as casual. As exposed as she felt, she didn’t want Noah to think he had some sort of upper hand – besides, if she could stand in front of thousands of people every night in just a tiny corset, why was this so different? 

“Oh, shoot!” she groaned, her hand almost instantly slipping away from her stomach as she brought it up to her mouth, stifling a gasp. “I’m so sorry. I’m such a dingus!” 

She’d had every intention to tidy up after herself, and not to leave her equipment lying around for somebody else to cleanup, but her wardrobe malfunction had taken up all of her attention. Her current state of undress seemed to slip from her mind almost instantly as Poppy rushed towards Noah, unthinking as she pushed herself up onto her tiptoes and wrapped an arm around his shoulder in a hug. 

“Thank you, thank you! And i’m really sorry,” she repeated, untangling herself from the man and offering him a sheepish smile. “I had a wardrobe malfunction that totally could have ended in like, a nip-slip! Which would’ve been terrible. And I was in such a state of panic that I practically roadrunner-ed my way off stage and I just... forgot.”