#didn't know what i was in for better oblivion community center

[louisegluckpdf]

1. finger back, vampire weekend 2. didn't know what i was in for, better oblivion community center 3. the art of disappearance, hanif abdurraqib 4. infinite jest, david foster wallace

[kermit-coded]

You Carry Him Like A Person

dimension 20: misfits and magic 2 // the people you fall in love with in your 20s by ryan o'connell // dimension 20: misfits and magic 2 // a little life by hanya yanagihara // dimension 20: misfits and magic 2 // suzanne scanlon // watching television by marie howe // dimension 20: misfits and magic 2 // yours and mine by lucy dacus // dimension 20: misfits and magic 2 // euripides by anne carson // dimension 20: misfits and magic 2 // there is a light that never goes out by the smiths // i am an observer, but not by choice by fatima aamer bilal // dimension 20: misfits and magic 2 // didn't know what i was in for by better oblivion community center // dimension 20: misfits and magic 2 // two people by tetsuo aoki // dimension 20: misfits and magic 2 // margaret atwood

[phoebesbridgers]

song of all time actually

[stationintern]

a promise that i made

A little ficlet I wrote based on Didn't Know What I Was In For by Better Oblivion Community Center. It felt very Draco to me.

Draco wakes up at 5:30 on a nondescript Tuesday morning. He brews a pot of coffee. He sips and he thinks and he stares past the beige curtains of his flat at the sparrow pecking around the windowsill.

He realizes he’s never done anything for anyone.

On Friday, he walks past the same bulletin board in the lobby he’s walked past every day since he moved into this shabby old building, but this time he looks at the poster with the pink ribbon, and on Saturday, he signs up for a half-marathon.

He’s never been a runner, and half-way through he seriously doubts that his legs could ever cure cancer, and thinks about how the entrance fee is probably pennies in the grand scheme of things. But he sweats it out, and he runs, and he runs, and he runs, and he collapses on the finish line once he’s done, and vows to never do it again.

Thursday’s are awful. Draco doesn’t know why, they’re just always shit. He’s become one with his couch, wrapped up in enough blankets to build a small castle in his living room. A commercial asking for a penny a day flickers on the screen, interrupted by brief static– a consequence of being ensconced in Draco’s magic day after day. Draco would call. He’s recently become interested in charity, after all. But, his home phone is all the way in the kitchen, and he’s comfortable.

It makes him sick, but he still doesn’t call.

On Sunday, he meets Pansy for brunch. Her boutique is closed on Sundays.

“I saw a piece on the news about the spike in homelessness after the war.” she says, flippantly, like it’s just a conversation topic. They’re actual people, sleeping on the streets of London, ducking under the cover of shopfronts when the rain pours and drenches their sleeping bags. Draco should be one of them. Draco shouldn’t have anything. “Merlin, I could have cried.”

“But did you?” Draco says. It feels like vomiting.

Pansy looks affronted, clutching her mimosa glass to her chest, “What?”

“Did you? Cry, I mean?”

“Well, no.” she turns her nose toward the sky, the picture of nobility and filth all at once. It’s like looking in a mirror. “But I could have.”

On Monday evening, Draco sits in front of the telly, blanketless on purpose. He’s waiting.

“For just a penny a day, you could support a child who has been affected by food insecurity-”

Draco hurriedly scratches the number down on an old take-out menu. He calls.

Draco doesn’t have much money. Unlike Pansy, he was left with nothing but whatever he could get selling old relics he’d managed to smuggle out of the Manor before it fell into Ministry hands. Stuck with his job at a Muggle country club, folding pool towels and serving drinks to the people he used to feel superior toward. They sneer at him, or worse, act like he’s not there. Some people think justice was never served, that he should be locked away from good society forever. However, being among so-called good society has taught him more than Azkaban ever could.

Here are three things Draco has learned since the war:

1. All the systems he once thought were in place at any given establishment in order to keep it running smoothly do not exist. Everything runs horribly, even the most expensive of country clubs, held together by rotting beams hidden from the eyes of customers and nestled on the backs of the pariahs that are employed there.

2. Being good would be easier if he was rich. Therefore, it makes his former behavior and the behavior of those he once associated with all the more confusing.

3. People are good. Deeply good. Disgustingly good. A lot of them just don’t know where to put all that goodness, and that’s the problem Draco’s running into now.

Draco went into a church once, just to see. The minister was terrifying, American, talking about the end times. He didn’t know that Draco had already seen the end of the world, and had to keep living beyond it. He fell for Lucifer’s tricks and damned himself, and one passage he read described Draco in naked detail.

Woe to those who call evil good and good evil, who put darkness for light and light for darkness, who put bitter for sweet and sweet for bitter.

There’s another marathon in March. Draco remembers his vow, then decides to forget it, and then he practices.

He runs until he can’t breathe and then keeps going. He sweats all the moisture out of his body, puts some back in, and then does it again. And again. And again. Until it hurts, but not quite as bad as the first time.

When March finally dawns, Harry Potter is waiting at the starting line.

“Thank you, Potter.” Draco had said after his trial, freshly free of his shackles but still sore, his ego and body beaten and battered. “How can I repay you?”

“Do something.” Potter replied, slipping Draco’s hawthorn wand into his waiting, trembling hands, “Anything. As long as it’s good.”

And maybe the life he’s been living as of late is his way of finally repaying Potter, or maybe it’s a desire he had all along, but now Draco has to face him.

“Doing something good?” Potter asks, lacing up his trainers. The question is poised as casual, but there’s a whole world of curiosity beyond his eyes. 

For some reason, Draco doesn’t want to admit it. He wants to tell Potter about all of those times he sat in front of his television, watching the images of half-starved children pass by and still refusing to pick up the phone. He wants to make himself seem irredeemable, because he’s still not sure if he believes in his own ability to change. But Harry Potter has always stood for hope, and Draco feels it when he looks in his direction.

He wants to say, “I don’t know how much good I have to do to balance the scales. I don’t know when I’ll cross the threshold from repaying my debts to being truly, wholly good. I don’t think any of these marathons actually do anything, but I’m going to keep signing up anyway.”

Instead, he says, “Maybe. Maybe.”

Potter runs beside him, obviously slowing his pace to keep his spot next to Draco. When they reach the half-way point, Draco turns to him.

“Do you think this is actually curing cancer?” he asks, choking his words out while trying to inhale fresh air into his aching lungs.

Potter shakes his head, “Maybe. Anything to help, I guess.”

“Yeah.” Draco says, stopping, resting his hands on his knees and squinting up at Potter’s form, outlined by the afternoon sun, “Anything good, right?”

Potter nods, a toothy smile creeping onto his glowing, sweat-soaked face, “Anything good.”

if you have the spoons, feel free to check it out over on ao3 as well! your lovely comments are always appreciated.

[fitzsaint]

[sure-thing-casey]

suffering on tap at an open bar

Love It If We Made It - The 1975

Radio War - Iron & Wine

5g - brakence

Hypersonic Missles - Sam Fender

Didn't Know What I Was In For - Better Oblivion Community Center

White Privilege - Sam Fender

Welcome to the Internet - Bo Burnham

Land Locked Blues - Bright Eyes

The News - Paramore

[mad-prophet-of-the-airwaves]

Daily song:

Didn't Know What I Was in For-Better Oblivion Community Center

[beastiepsd]

better oblivion community center

dialogue prompts from the self-titled album by better oblivion community center.

i got a job and i’ll work here for the summer.

everyone looks happy with each other 'til they step away and say the thing they really meant.

they always sound so cruel.

i didn't know what i was in for.

i feel so proud now for all the good i've done.

i know a girl who owns a boutique in the city.

they told me i'd gone crazy.

we get burned for being honest.

i've really never done anything, for anyone.

to fall asleep, i need white noise to distract me.

is this having fun? or is it just because?

i like setting off those bottle rockets.

we can never compromise.

why don't you stay, if you're going to leave your car here anyway?

it's not like the way it was.

i thought that you loved this stuff.

or did i make that up?

i wasn't sold on that plan anyways.

i'll go it alone, but that's just as well.

i'm lucid but i still can't think.

they say you've gotta fake it, at least until you make it.

i’m getting used to these dizzy spells.

i'm taking a shower at the bates motel.

you should really call your brother.

he never told them what it is.

say what you mean and say it now.

who are you?

who are you looking for?

thought that he was doing better.

well, all those threats he made, can't walk them back.

don't throw a fit, quit acting out.

who are you waiting for?

just go past the trucks on the service road.

get away from my house.

there's always an exception to the rule.

why don't you want it anymore?

i wanted to avoid it.

nice sentiment.

not this again.

quit tapping on my window.

i'm not listening 'cause i know where that talk goes.

i don't want it anymore.

i didn't know what they were singing about.

it was hot in the arena.

good men die like dogs.

you're always sorry for everything.

can you hear it now?

i loved you.

i wore you out.

i missed you.

where are you now?

this town is a depot, i come and go.

all this freedom just freaks me out.

i've wanted to track you down.

you lack ambition.

why does everybody always end up in the kitchen?

the man in white slacks sure looks dangerous.

i heard the short one's kind of famous.

please tell me it's true.

i guess i thought i would see the world.

i guess i thought you could stop the world.

i'm fine with hiding out.

can you hear the crickets?

all i hear is crickets.

i'm sure as hell my breath stinks.

i've been playing dominoes.

i'm just trying not to wreck no cars.

if we're going somewhere, i'm ready.

i don't want to hold nobody's hand.

can't hear my own voice in this crowd.

if you're not feeling ready, there's always tomorrow.

[farmlesbians]

to fall asleep i need white noise to distract me otherwise i have to listen to me think otherwise i pace around hold my breath let it out sit on the couch and think about how living's just a promise that i made ;/

[relativefict1on]

embracing this unseasonably cold fall-esque day.... I'll miss the chill

[wutheringheights78]

i literally didnt know what i was in for

[newwinslowma]

New Winslow Season Three Playlist

(Some discussion under a cut at the end, just for spoilers)

Service Road - Better Oblivion Community Center

"You should really call your brother / Someone put up a picture where he can't stand"

Scarecrow - Siouxsie and the Banshees

"Listen to his body moan / Make a wish and send us home"

Cleopatra - The Lumineers

"But I was late for this / Late for that / Late for the love of my life"

Only a Lifetime - Paper Aeroplanes

"And you haunt the years I need the most / the fate, the fear, the Holy Ghost of us"

I'm Going to Stop Pretending That I Didn't Break Your Heart - Eels

"I'm going to tell you what you need to hear / And I'm a little late / By three or four years"

Eleanor Rigby - Joan Baez

"Eleanor Rigby / Died in the church and was buried along with her name / Nobody came"

Don't Be Afraid to Run - Greg Graffin

"Maybe we'll rendezvous out in Nowheresville / Or maybe we'll find each other running still"

Stars - Grace Potter and the Nocturnals

"And if I know you at all / I know you've gone too far"

The Ballad of Me and My Friends - Frank Turner

"We're going nowhere slowly but we're seeing all the sights"

Some chat under the cut (spoilers for the whole series so far, just to be safe)

This was the roughest season, possibly storywise and definitely productionwise. On my end, it was 2020, so yeah. But I was also suffering from we realized months and months after the fact was nerve damage from a minor surgery I'd had just before COVID was found in the US. I couldn't walk, could barely leave my bed, and was just in constant pain. But working on New Winslow was something that kept me focused and let me have a creative outlet when things really sucked.

But it was choppy. I put out the first four episodes of the season as a mini-season, wanting to get them out there while I finished the actual Season 3, which originally began with Charlie driving Noah home. Starting in July, there was one episode of the mini-season at the beginning of each month, then I think I started the season in October. There were times I didn't post the episodes on time because of my health and I never got any complaints or comments, which I've always appreciated.

(And yes, those health issues did end up being permanent, but managed. But they're also why I don't announce release dates for anything until a month out, tops. I know that impacts my ability to market and do preorders and build hype, but if a flareup hits, my schedule is fucked.)

Storywise, this is sort of the first climax of the series. A lot of things come to a head, especially Roman having to face Minnie's death and Noah having to accept that his alcoholism is out of control. As I was writing this, I had a vague idea of how the series was going to end, but nothing concrete. And then midway through editing, I realized that Olivia needed something of her own this season, something new. And that's where the sprits thing came in. Which then became an integral part of the second half of the series.

(And then more spirits got involved, and there were parallels between friendships and parenting and fears and death and fuuuuuuuck, I wrote myself a nice little tangle that I'll be getting back to editing after this!)

[phoebesbridgers]

goddddddddddd

[cows-wearing-my-sweater]

for spotify wrapped: 14, 28, 53, 76