#her wallpaper reverie

[ohc-and-the-music-tapes-archive]

Reviews of The Apples in Stereo’s “Her Wallpaper Reverie” and Music Tapes’ “1st Imaginary Symphony For Nomad”, Reno Gazette Journal, 6 August 1999

transcript:

The Apples in Stereo “Her Wallpaper Reverie” (EP) SpinArt Records ***1/2

Music Tapes “1st Imaginary Symphony For Nomad” Merge Records ***

Here are the latest two releases from the Elephant 6 Collective, an inventive loosely tied troupe of musicians who are re-writing the rules of psychedelic pop. These two records are good examples of how far these groups are pushing the envelope instead of just revisiting Lucy in the Sky for some quick bucks.

The Apples in Stereo contribute more brilliant pop, although it’s a departure from their previous work. It’s like a microcosmic version of the Beatles’ “White Album.” Songs like “The Shiney Sea” and “Strawberryfire” are slower and more deliberate than the band’s peppier work, and the album is strewn with odd electronic blips and bloops linking the songs (to be fair, most of these are irritating). Still, fans of the Apples’ hook-happy tunes will love “Ruby,” “Questions and Answers” and the great tune “Y2K,” which perfectly encapsulates the stupidity of millennial fear.

The Music Tapes features members of Neutral Milk Hotel, the most brilliant Elephant 6 group. But, the Tapes’ debut is very different from the Hotel’s skewered folk-pop: “Nomad” is kind of like those odd cassette tapes children make when they have big imaginations but limited talent, and I mean that in a good way. It’s a fun, challenging record to dive into, with great pop songs like “Aliens” and “What the Single Made the Needle Sing” sharing space with odd skits, surface noise, narration and even strategically placed dead silence. It’s not the easiest listen in the world, but it is certainly distinctive and creative.

[atsadi-shenanigans]

A Misuse of Potions 1- Hill Giant Strength

Wrote it, thought I should sit on it to better edit, then decided I ain't patient. Bon appetite.

Rated VERY E.

Astarion has a plan. A nice, simple plan. His love has been gone for almost a tenday, but now she's back, and he needs her to obliterate him in the best way possible.

Night has fallen. Apprentice spellworkers dart through the streets to light the lanterns as the pale wash of sunset fades into purple, and then black.

Astarion stands near the window overlooking the front street and the small, rather overgrown garden his love has been somewhat tending to.

She’s late.

She’s actually two days late, but he’s inclined to blame the wizard for that. No, she should have been here thirty minutes ago, right as the last curve of the sun sank behind the distant buildings and released the creatures of the night to their nefarious doings.

To which he would happily add his own misdeeds. Except that she’s late.

Something happened. They were waylaid by pirates. A kraken rose from the deep to smash Waterdeep and pulled that wizard tower down on top of them, and her body is so human and so, so mortal. He needs to go. Needs to check—

Magic stirs below. The scent of cinnamon and licorice he always associates with Gale’s spells. A glimmer of purple flickers in the space right before their front gate—she painted it teal and seemed quite pleased with herself—before a shimmering, purple cloud unfurls taller and taller and…

His breath sighs out of him. She emerges. Eleanor. His former leader, his friend, his love. She’s back. She’s home.

He lets the curtain fall back into place.

They’re plush things, and heavy. Purchased with him in mind and enchanted to boot. Usually, the moment it’s safe to do so, he throws them open to catch the fading light still painting the sky.

But not tonight. He doesn’t care about the sky, today. And he doesn’t want an audience.

Well, aside from one, anyway.

She unlatches the little gate and steps through. Her footsteps sound heavy. She must be tired. He hopes that won’t alter his plans. Because he did. Plan. He’s getting better at that. But now she’s late and it’s thrown him so he hurries down the stairs, soft as a sigh.

Not that he needs to. Her hearing is awful (she says it’s quite good for a human and he feels a twinge of pity at that). Plus their townhouse is enchanted against noise. Can’t have the neighbors (he has neighbors) complaining about the screaming (it’s not even bad screaming; usually involves a lot of “yes, yes oh god” even).

He hits the ground floor and surveys the room. It’s nothing grand. Nothing like the mansion he still gets dragged to in reverie sometimes. But it’s bright and tidy (they pay someone for that, because it turns out neither of them is particularly good at housekeeping). The wooden floor is well-swept and decorated with colorful rugs and potted plants (dearest Eleanor says her people were farmers). The walls are covered in patterned wallpaper and bookshelves and trinkets, tapestries and paintings she should have haggled better for, but didn’t because “good art is worth the artist.”

It's very her. And, he thinks, it might possibly him, as well? Part of him? They change things as they need to as he figures that whole mess out.

But he’s really here to check that everything is in place. No elaborate staging, though. He chose his own clothes for his own reasons, for his own purposes. He’s in their home. And it smells of them.

Or it did smell of them, And that’s the problem.

Oh, his scent is everywhere. He can’t escape that. But she’s been gone the better part of a tenday, and it’s her that’s beginning to fade.

The first, few nights were tolerable. He could nuzzle into her pillow and remember to breathe. The bedding smelled of her: rich blood, the linden soap she favors, and that wonderful, clean scent she carries on her skin. It was nearly enough for him to imagine he held her as he rested.

But the bedding wasn’t warm, like her. And though the late, summer sunlight warms the stone walls of their home and chases away the burgeoning chill of autumn, there was no living body within the walls to fill it with heat.

She wasn’t there. He was alone.

He’s been alone before, of course. Was practically alone for two centuries before he threatened her on that beach (he sighs fondly at the memory: her on her back, staring up at him with what he initially mistook for a simpleton’s vacancy, but later learned was a vicious cunning) (when she wasn’t tired) (and when what she calls her “brain chemicals” were correctly balanced).

Then they were together (he feels himself smile) for a little over a year, now. And in that time, they’ve never been apart as long as this expedition of hers.

And now their home is too cold. Too quiet. And nerves twist his stomach.

It’s almost hilarious. Centuries at seduction, and he’s now reduced to fussing over his clothing as he waits. Second guessing: where he’ll stand, how he’ll position himself. It used to be as effortless as, well, not breathing, but blinking, perhaps (even that’s a stretch). He barely thought about it. Wasn’t entirely present for more than half of it.

But now every moment drags. Her steps up their walkway. The way her lungs draw air. The beat of her heart and there’s no one to witness the slight stumble as his knees go stupidly weak.

He ought to sneer at the thought. A little over a year ago, he would have done far worse. Probably stabbed someone. But now, it’s Eleanor and he missed her, gods help him, and he smooths his hands along his front and takes up position at the door. Waits until…just…there.

Opens that door for her.

Her hand is raised to grab the knob. Now it hovers and slowly falls to her side as she boggles.

He chose well, it turns out. He doesn’t need a mirror to know he looks good. He’s retrieved his heels and laced them up. Unpacked another purchase he kept from her: a long, blood red dress of embroidered silk. It’s a slim fit, meant to hug his form. Would be tight along the legs if it wasn’t for the slit up one side.

The sleeves fall off his shoulders in a way he knows highlights them. She does love his shoulders (loves to clutch them as he works between her legs) (curl her head upon them as he reads to her) (dig her fingers in to try to ease the tense muscles when that blasted joke of an editor at the Baldur’s Mouth throws some feeble counterargument back at him).

But it’s the way her eyes follow along his collarbones to the dip that leads down his chest. It’s his chest that’s her favorite part of him (well, second) (alright, third because she says disgusting things like “your eyes” and “the way you smile” and “but if you didn’t have a mouth, I couldn’t hear you talk about plagues”).

(And she means all of those statements; she’ll just…sit there and listen to him prattle on—)

“Good evening, lover,” he purrs.

She almost drops all three bags she carries.

***

The rest on AO3 so no tumblr horny jail for me.

[rowaelinsdaughter]

𝖒𝖞 𝖌𝖎𝖗𝖑 (𝖒𝖆𝖓𝖔𝖓 𝖝 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗)

i wish manon was my girlfriend :"(

WARNINGS: FLUFF JUST FLUFF, modern AU!

the dawn sun sneaks through the curtains causing you to wake up from one of the deepest dreams you've had in weeks. you grunt a little and turn to continue sleeping next to the body that is also sleeping soundly next to you. unable to fall asleep, you open your eyes and look at your girlfriend's face.beautiful is what you always think every time you look at her, her snow white hair creating a blanket on the pillow. as carefully as possible, you brush his hair away from her face and caress her cheeks with your fingertips.

manon stirs a little and continues sleeping, oblivious to the outside world of dreams and your caresses. you get up and put on one of her t-shirts that reach down your thighs since she is so tall. carefully, you close the door and head to the kitchen to make coffee. you leave the coffee maker on to start brewing and open the kitchen and living room windows, letting in the fresh morning air. you lean on the balcony railing and breathe in the aroma of freshly cut grass and freshly baked cakes. of the pastry shop in front of the house... and a memory appears in your memory.

4 years ago, you were working in that same bakery as a waitress to save money to pay for college. manon was a regular customer and you were always fascinated by her enigmatic and powerful aura. you almost always tried to take her orders since that was the only way you could talk to her even for a few seconds and even though you knew her order by heart, you always asked her what she wanted to hear her voice.

but what you didn't know was that manon went to that cafeteria even if it caught her far from her house to see you. and one day when she left the money on the table for you, you saw a note folded on top of the money.[phone number] call me.that night you wrote to her and that's where it all started.

you and her bought the apartment, your first apartment. located on the same street where you met, near the university where you were studying and close to manon's work, the apartment was perfect, and it was more perfect when little by little you created memories in it.

arms pull you out of your reverie and manon rests her head on top of yours. "good morning baby"

manon growls, “you know i don't like it when you call me that.”

you laugh and turn in her arms to look at her, “that's why I'm telling you. you are normally grumpy but when you wake up you are worse”

she clicks her tongue, “that's what you get for leaving me alone in bed.”

“sorry for leaving you alone…baby”

manon lets go of you and goes to make two cups of coffee. laughing, you head into the kitchen after her. when you arrive you sit in one of the chairs and watch her prepare breakfast. a cup of coffee appears in front of you and the stove starts to work. when it's over, you start to eat, but you notice manon's gaze on you.

"what?"

“can't I look at my girlfriend?”

“of course you can look at me.”

"so?"

"i don't know"

manon tries to hide a smile and fails in the attempt. you rarely see manon smile like this. you wish you had your cell phone so you could take a photo of it and put it as your wallpaper. now you're the one staring at manon.

"what?" manon repeats

you get up from the chair and sit on manon's lap.

"i love you"

a blush appears on her cheeks and you start laughing at her for being so adorable. manon makes a show of trying to escape but deep down you know she loves it when you get like that.

if someone wrote a book about you, manon would be the black cat and you would be the golden retriever, but you wouldn't change her personality for anything in the world.

tags; @danikamariewrites @throneofsapphics @vanserrasswife @shadowdaddies @thehighladywrites

all rights reserved to ©rowaelinsdaughter. no tranlations allowed. no copy theme. don not copy my work.

[illumins]

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙏𝙝𝙧𝙚𝙚: Don't Throw A Book At Your Crush.

Physical pain is a curious thing; it's like a thick fog that rolls in, smothering all other worries. Even my concern for Mark becomes muted under the dull throb of the bruise on my cheek. By the time we get back to our small townhouse in Graystone—a quiet, unassuming city that rarely ever sees the kind of chaos that unfolded today—I'm almost grateful for the distraction the pain provides.

As soon as the door shuts behind us, my dad launches into a barrage of questions. "Liya, what were you thinking running back inside like that?" His voice pitches with every query, a crescendo of concern that fills the cramped living room. "How did you get this bruise? And really, are you—," he pauses, searching for the right words, "—are you sure you're okay, not just physically but...?" His question about my sanity hangs between us, an unfinished bridge.

I shrug off his last question with a half-smile, trying to ease his worry. "I'm okay, Dad, really."

He nods, though his eyes say he's far from convinced. Running a hand through his already disheveled hair—a trait I've inherited—he continues, "Well, the parents from Daylight Academy were informed there'd be two days off school because of the accident."

That's his subtle way of saying I'm grounded without using the word. He knows I understand, but he softens the decree by adding, "How about we order from Pizza Paradise? Extra cheese, your favorite." Pizza Paradise is our go-to on nights when cooking feels like a chore too cumbersome to undertake. It's a small, local spot that claims their secret sauce recipe came straight from an Italian nonna—unlikely, but it's delicious enough that we've never bothered to doubt it.

Despite the casual suggestion, I know it’s his way of making sure I don't run off if I feel the urge. Any other teenager might bristle at such overt surveillance, but this is Dad, and his actions stem more from fear than anger at my recklessness. After losing Mom, it's just been the two of us, navigating our grief and now this new, unexpected threat.

I nod, sinking into our old, worn couch that's as much a patchwork of history as we are—a collection of moments stitched together, fraying at the edges but still holding. "Sounds perfect," I reply, letting the familiarity of the routine soothe the both of us.

Our townhouse is small, the rooms a little too lived-in, cluttered with memories that crowd the shelves and walls. Photos of Mom smile down at us from frames that line the mantelpiece, her eyes following us with a quiet permanence. The coffee table is a battlefield of old magazines, school books, and several remotes that never seem to control the devices they're supposed to. It's a comfortable chaos, one that wraps around you like a well-worn blanket.

As Dad dials the number for Pizza Paradise, I tuck my legs under me and glance around the living room. The green wallpaper, chosen by Mom because it reminded her of the springtime parks she loved, peels at the corners, slightly showing the worn out beige beneath it. Outside, the sun begins to set, casting long shadows that creep across the floor, dark tendrils that stretch like fingers.

As the room darkens with the fading light, the shadows from the setting sun stretch longer across the floor, like dark rivers flooding the plains of our worn carpet. I'm chewing gum, staring blankly at the TV that's playing a rerun of some sitcom we used to watch together, but I'm not laughing. Not tonight. My mind wanders, tracing the paths of what could have happened today. I keep coming back to Mark—was he safe? How had Spiderman managed to reach him amid the chaos?

"Dad's talking, Liya." His voice breaks through my reverie, more gentle than reproachful."Dad's talking, Liya." His voice breaks through my reverie, more gentle than reproachful.

"Huh?" I startle, snapping back to the room filled with the musty scent of old books and faintly, the citrus of our used-up air freshener.

"College, honey. Have you given it any more thought?" Dad's eyes are kind, the crinkles at their corners deepening with his concern.

College. Right. I press my lips together, feeling the weight of the question like the textbooks on our cluttered coffee table. "I... haven't decided yet," I admit, the words tasting of uncertainty and the mint gum I've been chewing on too long.

He opens his mouth, probably to offer reassurance or maybe to encourage me to think about futures I'm too preoccupied to imagine right now, but the sharp ring of the doorbell cuts him off.

"I'll get it," I say quickly, a little too eagerly, seizing the chance to escape from the conversation. Rising from the couch, I cross the room, each step a deliberate delay of the inevitable discussion. As I pull open the door, the cool evening air brushes against my face, bringing a momentary relief. The pizza delivery guy hands over the warm boxes, and just like that, the normalcy of a family dinner snaps back into place, leaving my concerns about Mark lingering silently between the shadows and the fading light.

I lay sprawled across the couch, too stuffed to move, with an ice pack numbing my cheek—a battle scar from earlier when I got a little too animated telling Dad about Mark's impossible escapes. Dad's already lost to sleep, his snores a soft echo in the dimly lit living room where the glow of the TV flickers, casting ghostly light across his relaxed features.

We're halfway through some action movie that Dad picked, more explosions than plot, and my mind's only half on the screen. The rest is upstairs, in that unspoken worry about noises that shouldn't be there.

Then, it comes—a thud from upstairs. My heart skips. Not the movie. Not Dad. I sit up, listening harder. Another thump, like something—or someone—had bumped against a wall. Dad doesn't stir; just another log added to his symphony of snuffles and murmurs.

Carefully, I set the ice pack down on the coffee table, right beside the greasy remains of our pepperoni pizza, the cardboard box stained with oil spots. The cool metal of the pack clinks lightly against the wood, a small, crisp sound in the otherwise muffled room.

I rise, my movements slow, fluid, trying not to disturb the precarious peace of Dad's slumber. As I pass by our cluttered bookshelf, my fingers brush against the spines of hardcovers and paperbacks jammed too tightly together. I hesitate, then snatch up a heavy, hardbound copy of Sherlock Holmes—more weapon than literature in this moment.

Each step on the stairs creaks under my weight, a reluctant betrayal as I make my way up. My breath feels too loud in my ears, my heart a drumbeat I'm certain could wake Dad. But he sleeps on, oblivious and out of reach.

At the top of the stairs, the hallway stretches out, dimly lit by the nightlight plugged in near the bathroom. Three doors: Mom and Dad's room, mine, and the bathroom between them. The thuds had stopped, replaced now by a stifling silence, the kind that presses in on your ears when you strain to hear anything at all.

I grip the book tighter, feeling the edges bite into my palm, and I inch toward my door, each breath a ragged whisper. The door is ajar—had I left it like that? My mind races, but I can't remember.

The floorboard just outside my room groans under my tentative step, and I freeze, every nerve ending screaming alert. I wait, one, two, three heartbeats. Nothing more. Slowly, I push the door, the hinges whimpering softly. The familiar mess of my room comes into view—the posters on the walls, the pile of clothes on a chair, the window slightly open, curtains fluttering like a soft breath.

My heart stutters as the curtains flutter, teasing glimpses of a figure too familiar and yet impossibly real perched right outside my window. Spider-Man. Right here. It’s like seeing a myth in motion, but before rational thought can take hold, my nerves do—a silly, knee-jerk reaction. My grip on the Sherlock Holmes book tightens, and without a thought, it’s sailing through the air towards him.

He turns, an almost lazy, fluid motion, and catches the book with an ease that defies gravity and reason. The moment stretches out, my breath caught somewhere between my throat and the surprise that has me frozen in place.

I slap both hands over my mouth, my eyes wide. Embarrassment heats my cheeks more than any slap could. I’m mortified, standing there gawking at him through the gap in the window, my makeshift weapon now in his hands. The room feels smaller somehow, or maybe I just wish I could shrink away from the absurdity of my own actions.

Spider-Man seems to hesitate, then, with a sheepish raise of his hand, he mirrors an apology. His movements are awkward, almost human beneath the mask. He steps closer to the window, the soft thud of his boots on the ledge a stark contrast to the silent tension. He extends the book back to me, his gesture careful, almost respectful of the bizarre sanctity of this moment.

I lower my hands slowly, brushing back strands of loose hair that’d escaped. Leaning against the window frame, I manage a shaky laugh, my voice a whisper of sound that barely carries. "I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean—just scared, you know?"

He nods, the motion sharp against the backdrop of my fluttering curtains. "It’s okay. Really." His voice is muffled by the mask, but the warmth is there, an unexpected comfort.

I reach out, taking the book back, my fingers brushing against his. For a moment, the world doesn’t extend beyond this strange, shared space between a hero and a girl too quick to throw her literature.

"Thanks," I murmur, words lost to the wind as he backs away with another awkward wave, disappearing the way only a hero can. I’m left there, leaning on the sill, the night air cool against my flushed face, and no words to describe the surreal heartbeat of this night.

I shuffle aside, making room, a silent invitation hanging between us. He only shakes his head, his posture relaxed as he settles onto the edge of my window, one leg casually swinging inside my room. The book in my hand feels suddenly pointless, so I toss it onto my bed, the thud it makes oddly satisfying against the silence.

I just watch him for a moment, the surreal nature of Spider-Man sitting in my window making my thoughts scatter like marbles on a tilted floor. What do you even say to a superhero? Especially when your first instinct had been to throw a book at him. My mind races through a dozen started sentences, none of them feeling right.

Thankfully, he breaks the silence first, and I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. His voice is calm, almost casual. "Mark got home safe, by the way."

The relief that washes over me is immediate and overwhelming, loosening the tight knot of worry that had been lodged in my chest since the afternoon. "Oh, thank God," I breathe out, leaning a little closer, as if drawn by the gravity of his words. "I've been so worried. How did you...?" My voice trails off, curiosity piqued but unsure how to phrase the million questions I have.

He just gives a small, knowing smile, the kind that tells me he's used to the awe and the inquiries but still finds them mildly amusing. "It’s all in a day’s work, really."

As I step closer, the lamppost outside throws a harsh glare around him, framing him like some sort of celestial being caught in a mundane world. I extend my hand out—half-wanting to check if he's as real as he seems, half-regretting how awkward it feels to shake hands with a superhero. But he grasps it firmly, and the reality of his grip brings a sense of solidity to the moment.

"Thank you," I manage to say, my voice steadier than I feel.

He nods, and there's a brief, comfortable silence as he releases my hand. Then, his head tilts slightly, and I feel the weight of his gaze, even behind the mask. "Does it hurt?" he asks, his voice laced with a concern that seems too genuine for someone who deals with far bigger problems than a bruised cheek.

"What?" I blink, confused for a second, then my hand flies to my face, touching the tender skin of my right cheek where the ice had numbed the pain. The coolness has faded, leaving a dull throb in its place. "Oh, um, it's bearable," I admit, trying to downplay the discomfort. "Nothing that time can’t heal."

He nods again, understanding, or at least pretending to. There’s a quiet acknowledgment in his posture, a readiness to listen that makes the room—the whole world—feel safer, just for a moment.

He points at my cheek, his gesture a little clumsy. "Still, I'm sorry about that."

I wave it off, trying to ease the weight of the moment. "It's not a big deal, really. I'm just glad you were there to stop those desks from hitting me. That would’ve been a lot worse."

We fall into an easy rhythm of conversation, the tension unspooling slightly with each shared word. But then, a thought hits me, sudden and sharp. "Wait," I interrupt, squinting slightly in suspicion. "How did you even know where I live?"

He hesitates, his body language shifting, the confidence slipping for a moment. "Uh, I have my ways. It's part of the job, you know, making sure everyone’s safe," he stammers, clearly caught off guard by the question.

I raise an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of my mouth. "So, you’re a stalker?"

He jumps up to his full height on the windowsill, defensive but playful. "No, no, it’s not like that!"

I can't help but laugh, the sound bubbling up freely. He seems so much like a regular guy sometimes, maybe even someone who could be in my class, not just the superhero from the news. "Okay, okay, I believe you. But seriously, why come here now?"

He settles back down, though he stays perched on the edge of the sill. "I just wanted to check on you, make sure that bruise was the worst of it," he admits, his tone earnest.

We fall into a quiet kind of silence, the kind that feels comfortable rather than awkward. I nod, still a bit dazed by his reason for showing up. It's strange, thinking a superhero would take the time to check on someone like me. I mean, what does a day in the life of a superhero even look like? But I shrug off the wonder of it all, figuring it’s just one of those things I’ll never fully understand.

Minutes tick by, the only sound is the distant hum of the city and the occasional car passing below. Then he breaks the silence again, his voice serious this time. "You shouldn't have run into the building, though. It was reckless." He pauses, glancing at me with a hint of admiration. "But brave."

I roll my eyes but can't suppress a smile. "Yeah, I know. Probably wasn't the smartest move." I agree, thinking back to the chaos of today, the heat of the moment pushing me forward.

He looks over his shoulder suddenly, as if hearing something I can’t, his body tensing like he’s ready to spring into action. "I have to go," he says, and there’s a slight urgency in his tone now.

"Yeah," I respond, feeling a twinge of disappointment as I step back to give him space. I watch him swing out of my window, graceful and almost otherworldly. His figure cuts through the cool night air, and within moments, he's just a fleeting shadow against the city lights, disappearing into the fabric of the night.

I wake up to the muted light of an overcast Tuesday, the kind of day where the sky seems to weigh heavy, pressing down on the world below. School has been canceled since the accident, a relief and a curse all at once. My father, ever practical, decides that today will not be wasted. He leaves a list of errands for me on the kitchen counter, a mix of mundane tasks meant to keep me occupied and out of trouble.

Standing there, I lean out just a bit, catching the last glimpse of him, the echo of our conversation lingering in the now silent room. I pull back, the window frame cold against my hands, and I can't help but feel a mix of awe and a tiny sting of loneliness as I slide the window shut.

-

The first task is to pick up groceries from the local market. I pull on my favorite hoodie, its soft fabric a comfort against the lingering chill in the air. As I step outside, the city hums around me, a symphony of distant engines, murmuring voices, and the occasional blare of a horn. I make my way down the sidewalk, my sneakers slapping against the damp concrete. The air smells faintly of rain, a promise of showers to come later.

The market is bustling with activity, despite the somber mood that seems to hang over the city. Inside, the aisles are a flurry of movement, people darting around, filling their carts with the essentials. I navigate through the crowd, methodically checking off items from my father's list. Apples, milk, bread, a box of his favorite cereal. Each item is a small victory, a piece of normalcy in an otherwise disrupted week.

My next stop is the dry cleaner's. The bell above the door jingles as I enter, the familiar scent of starch and fabric softener hitting my nose. Mr. Lee, the elderly owner, greets me with a nod, his glasses perched precariously on the tip of his nose. We exchange a few words about the weather and the state of the neighborhood, his voice carrying the weight of years spent in the same place, witnessing the ebb and flow of life around him. I hand over the ticket, and he disappears into the back, emerging moments later with my father's freshly pressed suits. The hangers clink softly together as I take them, the fabric cool and smooth under my fingers.

My errands continue in a steady rhythm. I stop by the post office to mail a letter, the sterile smell of paper and ink filling the small space. The clerk behind the counter barely looks up as I slide the envelope through the slot. Outside, the clouds have grown darker, the threat of rain more imminent. I quicken my pace, eager to finish my tasks before the skies open up.

As I turn the corner onto my street, my phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out to see a message from my father. "Let's watch a movie tonight. How about 'Starship Dreams'?" The thought of a quiet evening in, lost in the escapism of a film, brings a smile to my face. But the message doesn’t end there. "Could you pick up some sweets from Sweet Haven on your way back?"

Sweet Haven is a small, family-owned candy store a few blocks from our apartment. Its pastel-painted facade stands out against the drab gray of the surrounding buildings, a cheerful beacon on a dreary day. As I push open the door, a tiny bell rings, announcing my arrival. The interior is a whimsical explosion of color and sugary scents, jars of candies lining the shelves, each one more enticing than the last.

I take my time, wandering through the store, the wooden floorboards creaking softly underfoot. My eyes linger on the vibrant displays of gummies, chocolates, and caramels, each piece a work of art. The shopkeeper, a kind woman with a warm smile, offers me a sample of their latest creation, a piece of lavender-infused white chocolate. It melts on my tongue, a delicate blend of flavors that leaves me wanting more.

As I approach the checkout counter, my eyes are still dancing with the vibrant colors and sugary delights surrounding me. The assortment of candies I’ve chosen feels like a small treasure trove, each piece a promise of sweet escapism. I place the bag on the counter, and the shopkeeper rings up my purchase with the same warm smile she greeted me with. Her hands move deftly, wrapping each item with care, as if each candy were a precious gem.

Just as I’m about to leave Sweet Haven, I catch a glimpse of something through the large front window. Across the street, bathed in the soft glow of fairy lights, is my favorite bookstore, "The Literary Nook." Its warm, inviting light spills out onto the sidewalk, creating a cozy oasis amidst the gray cityscape. The fairy lights twinkle like stars, framing the large windows that offer a peek into a world of books and stories.

I hesitate, clutching the bag of candy. My father's errands are still on my mind, and I know he wouldn't be pleased if I took too long. He’s been more protective since the accident, his concern often feeling like a heavy, unspoken presence between us. But as I gaze at the bookstore, the thought of exploring its shelves, finding a new escape within its walls, is too tempting to resist.

"He’s not upset," I remind myself, "just worried." The distinction feels important. I take a deep breath, convincing myself that a quick visit wouldn’t hurt. He probably won’t even notice if I take a few extra minutes. With that thought in mind, I step out of Sweet Haven and make my way across the street, the rain a gentle drizzle now, barely more than a mist.

The Literary Nook is even more enchanting up close. The smell of old paper and ink greets me as I push open the door, the little bell above jingling softly. Inside, it’s a labyrinth of wooden shelves, each one overflowing with books. Comfortable chairs are scattered throughout, inviting customers to sit and lose themselves in a story. The soft light from the fairy lights, combined with the warm glow of table lamps, creates a magical, almost ethereal atmosphere.

I wander through the aisles, each step on the creaky wooden floorboards echoing softly in the quiet space. The sense of peace here is profound, the outside world slipping away with each passing second. I make my way towards the manga section, my heart quickening with anticipation. The shelves are well-stocked, each title a doorway to another world. As my fingers brush against the spines of the books, I spot it – the latest volume of my favorite series, "Celestial Warriors."

My breath catches in my throat as I reach for it, the cover art vibrant and dynamic, promising new adventures within its pages. I flip it open, the familiar characters and storylines drawing me in instantly. The excitement bubbles up inside me, a giddy thrill that makes me forget everything else for a moment.

Just then, a voice behind me says, "I love that series too." It’s a voice I know well, one that I’ve heard in both quiet moments and chaotic ones. I turn around, my heart pounding, and there he is – Mark. His face is slightly bruised, a reminder of recent events, but his eyes are bright and warm. He’s wearing a dark hoodie, the hood pushed back to reveal his tousled hair, and jeans that are just a bit too long, the cuffs frayed from dragging on the ground. He looks both rugged and approachable, his presence a mix of strength and softness.

I nod at Mark, my throat suddenly dry. The only words that manage to escape my lips are, "You're alive." As soon as I say them, I mentally slap myself. What a stupid thing to say. It sounds as if I’m surprised he survived, and maybe I am, but not in a way that sounds good out loud. His brow furrows in confusion, but he nods, his expression softening as he processes my awkward statement.

Desperately trying to salvage the situation, I stammer, "I mean, I’m happy you’re alive." My cheeks burn with embarrassment, and I want to disappear into the pages of the book in my hands.

Mark’s smile returns, and he chuckles softly. "I’m happy I’m alive too," he replies, his tone light and teasing. The tension in my chest loosens just a little, but then he continues, "Jaemin told me you ran inside the school looking for me."

Before he can finish his sentence, the wave of embarrassment crashes over me again, and without thinking, I thrust the manga volume at him. "Here, have it!" I blurt out, the words tumbling out in a rush. He catches the book easily, his reflexes quick despite the surprise.

I curse myself silently, feeling the heat rise in my face. Not only had I revealed my weird crush on him in the most awkward way possible, but now I had literally thrown a book at him. My heart pounds in my chest, a mix of mortification and panic, and I can’t bear to look him in the eye.

Mark looks at the manga in his hands, then back at me, a mixture of amusement and confusion on his face. I can’t read his thoughts, but I’m certain he’s thinking how strange and awkward I am. The realization is like a punch to the gut, and I know I have to get out of here before I make things even worse.

Turning abruptly, I avoid his gaze and make a beeline for the back of the store. The Literary Nook has a little area in the back, an alleyway transformed into a cozy nook with benches and fairy lights, perfect for reading on pleasant days. It’s my only escape route now.

The narrow pathway between the shelves feels like a gauntlet, each step echoing my frantic thoughts. I can feel Mark’s eyes on me, but I don’t dare look back. My feet carry me swiftly to the back door, my pulse racing in my ears. As I push open the door, the cool air hits my face, a welcome contrast to the heat of my embarrassment.

The alley is quiet, the fairy lights casting a gentle glow on the rustic benches and potted plants. It’s a haven of calm, but my heart is still hammering. I sink onto one of the benches, trying to steady my breathing, my mind replaying the scene over and over. I bury my face in my hands, wishing I could rewind time and erase the past few minutes.

I sit there, my face buried in my hands, the cool air mingling with the warmth of my embarrassment. The alley is usually a refuge, but now it feels like a spotlight, highlighting my awkwardness in painful detail. I replay the scene in my mind, each moment more cringe-worthy than the last. The gentle patter of rain starts, a soft drizzle that I barely notice through the fog of my emotions.

Then I hear the door creak open behind me, and my heart skips a beat. I don’t need to look to know it’s Mark. I feel a mix of dread and anticipation as his footsteps approach, each one louder in the silence of the alley. I can’t fathom why he would follow me, what he could possibly say after my clumsy exit.

He stops in front of me, and I look up, my eyes meeting his. There’s no judgment in his gaze, only concern. He reaches past my head, and I flinch slightly, unsure of his intention. But then I feel the gentle tug as he pulls the hood of my hoodie over my head, shielding me from the rain. It’s only then that I realize my hair and shoulders are damp, the cool droplets mingling with the heat of my flushed cheeks.

Mark's gesture is so simple, yet so unexpectedly kind, that it leaves me momentarily speechless. He steps back, and his mouth moves, words spilling out, but they don’t register. I’m still reeling from the sudden shift, from the awkwardness of moments ago to this quiet, almost tender interaction. My mind struggles to catch up, to process the fact that he’s here, that he cares enough to follow me.

He pauses, his brow furrowing slightly, and I snap back to reality. "What?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper, laced with the remnants of my earlier panic. It’s the only word I can manage, the only thing that breaks through the haze of my thoughts.

Mark repeats himself, his voice patient and calm, "I said, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay." There’s genuine concern in his tone, a softness that catches me off guard. He sits on the bench next to me, keeping a respectful distance, but close enough that I can feel his presence, solid and reassuring.

I take a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart. The rain continues its gentle descent, the fairy lights casting a warm glow on the scene, turning the alley into a surreal, almost dreamlike space. It feels like we’re in a world apart, a moment suspended in time.

"I’m okay," I finally manage to say, though my voice is still shaky. "I just... I didn’t know what to say back there. I’m sorry for throwing the book at you."

Mark laughs softly, the sound a soothing balm to my frazzled nerves. "Don’t worry about it," he says, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "I’ve had worse things thrown at me. And besides, it’s a good book. I’m glad we both like it."

His words ease some of the tension in my chest, and I find myself smiling, the knot of embarrassment slowly unwinding. The rain continues to fall, a steady rhythm that seems to mirror the calming of my thoughts. We sit there in silence for a moment, the city’s distant hum a backdrop to our quiet conversation.

The silence between us is comfortable, filled with the soft sounds of rain and the distant hum of the city. I find myself relaxing, the earlier embarrassment fading away, replaced by a sense of calm. Mark’s presence is unexpectedly reassuring, his laughter still echoing softly in my mind.

Just then, my phone buzzes in my pocket, startling me. I pull it out and see a message from my dad. My heart sinks as I read the text: "Where are you? Everything okay?" I glance at the time and realize I’ve been gone longer than I intended.

"Shoot," I mutter under my breath, the knot of anxiety returning. I quickly type a reply, "I’m fine, just got caught up at the bookstore. Heading home now." I hit send and tuck my phone away, feeling the weight of responsibility settle back on my shoulders.

"I have to go," I say to Mark, my voice tinged with regret. Standing up, I fumble for the right words, trying to make my exit without seeming too abrupt. "Thanks for, um, coming after me. And for the hood," I add, tugging it slightly to emphasize my point.

As I turn to leave, Mark’s voice stops me in my tracks. "Liya," he says, and the sound of my name from his lips catches me off guard. It’s the first time I’ve heard him say it, and the way he says it makes my heart skip a beat. I try to keep my composure, not wanting to appear too flustered.

"Yeah?" I respond, my voice a little higher than I intended.

He smiles, a warm, genuine smile that makes my chest feel lighter. "Take care, okay? See you around."

I nod, not trusting myself to say anything coherent. "You too," I manage to mumble, before turning and heading toward the exit of the alley. My feet move quickly, the rain now a gentle mist around me. I can feel his eyes on my back as I walk away, and I force myself not to look back, even though every part of me wants to.

The alley leads me back to the main street, where the city seems to have taken on a softer, quieter tone under the blanket of rain. My mind is a whirl of thoughts and emotions, replaying the scene in the alley over and over. I replay the way Mark said my name, the kindness in his eyes, the unexpected ease of our conversation.

As I walk, I can’t help but smile, despite the lingering embarrassment. Maybe I’ll speak to him again at school, maybe not. But for now, I focus on getting home, my father’s message a reminder of the world outside this small, magical moment.

[frasers-of-my-heart]

Wednesday 100: Blue

Claire was escorted to the Laird’s Room while Jamie gathered what Mrs. Fitz had sent and she walked in tentatively, running a light finger along the blue wallpaper, tracing it to the fireplace and across the mantle. She heard the door softly click, turning to find she had been left to her reverie. She took in the collection of vases and urns— each one a different style and scene, each one designed entirely in blue and white. The servants whirled in and out and when Jamie barreled in against the serene backdrop, only one word came to mind. Home.

[mymelodic-chapel]

The Apples in stereo- Her Wallpaper Reverie (Psychedelic Pop, Indie Pop, Neo-Psychedelia) Released: June 8, 1999 [The Elephant 6 Recording Co./ spinART Records] Producer(s): Robert Schneider

[iceswords]

Entering The Dreamscape Take 2

it would be a system hour before misha had to go back to work when he and yanqing returned to the reverie. walking together through the main lobby. it was a lot less crowded yet yanqing could still spot a few ipc agents present who obviously were still not given any access into the hotel rooms.

he felt another buzz in his pocket but this time it wasn't because of any text message. it was the clockie app - or rather the dreamscape pass - that yanqing had gotten upon arriving there. the fourth page was now opened to him with another question to answer. it was all very specific to what yanqing personally had been experiencing so far but of the third page was simply an introductory that all guests have that asks how they would like to spend their time in the hotel and yanqing had answered with an adventure.

it had a backdrop of a brick wall where he could put stickers and in this section, the stickers were photographs of the people he had encountered in penacony. there was misha and arlan in two different photographs. strangely enough a new sticker had been added with a photo of sliver wolf who had her back towards whoever was taking the photo.

moving along to the fourth new page where there was a backdrop of what appeared to be a city landscape with the following question posed to yanqing:

making friends high and low, what a joy! you find yourself in the land you always longed to visit. how does it feel? how has it gone so far?

yanqing stared at the question. he had been honest with the first one, might as well be honest here too as he soon looked up at the bellboy who appeared to be staring down at something causing yanqing to look down and notice that he had taken his white gloved hand at one point and hasn't let go yet.

misha didn't appear troubled or bothered by it- not even momentarily uncomfortable. just an intrigued yet puzzled look as if trying to decipher the meaning of it all before noticing the other had looked up from his phone.

" I didn't realize I did that." yanqing admitted, feeling a little embarrassed and worried that his actions may have upset the bellhop in some way, " would you.. like me to let go now? you seem very confused."

" oh! uhh.. do.. do you want to let go?" misha nervously asked in turn before the two quietly stared down at the joined hands for a moment. it was soon silently agreed upon that this was fine as yanqing looked back at his phone, clicking one of the three answers available before playing around with the stickers you could put on it.

yanqing would pocket his phone after reaching one of the elevators to head up towards the vip area. his room was located along the row up there and didn't need to really enter the vip lounge to reach it. the rows and rows seemed almost endless- near reminiscient of the shackling prison.

yanqing would eventually stop right outside the hotel room, having to let go of the other's hand to get his room key out and unlock the door while misha gave a look over his hand that was once in yanqing's just a second ago as if it was a clue to some mystery until he heard the click of the door unlocking.

yanqing walked in and gave a look over shoulder to misha, gesturing him to follow. there was a small entry way with dark brown wooden flooring and dark blue wallpaper- this wallpaper covered the rest of the walls within the hotel room that formed almost a key or keyhole shape if you were to view it from above.

once the bellboy was inside the room as well, yanqing closed the door behind him and took misha's hand once again before walking over to the area between the couch and the dreampool where the was table with a tea spot and teacups. two teacup shaped chairs with the same orange cushioning as the rounded couches.

misha had promised to show him the proper way to entering the dreampool but yanqing thought that he should at least show the bellboy how he had originally done it the first time. though instead of throwing himself into the dreampool, he made gestures with his free hand as a visual as he explained to misha who watched and nodded.

then it was misha's turn to lead yanqing as he walked over to the couch on the right hand side of the hearth with a top hat. taking a seat there and gesturing for the lieutenant to sit down with him. the warmth from the fir place was nice and relaxing- reminded yanqing of how he would sit out in the sun. it was nice.. especially since yanqing had even nicer company.

" yeah.. you're supposed to take it slow- go at your own pace! though I guess fast would be your own pace!" he spoke, adding in a little joke to lighten the mood which seemed to amuse yanqing. misha smiled at this before continuing on, " just take slow deep breaths.. counting from one to ten." he spoke in a calm manner and demonstrated the proper breathing technique as yanqing did his best to follow along though the tv screens and the tune playing on loop made it hard to concentrate. " pick one sound. one thing to train your eyes on. something.. comforting and relaxing!" misha added on and just as the bellboy instructed yanqing to look at something that was comforting and relaxing, those yellow ember eyes landed on the boy in all blue. running along each part of misha's outfit- the clip, the tie, the jacket and even the bow that kept misha's hair in an over the shoulder pony tail.

" there we go!" misha's voice came as yanqing soon felt his eyelids begin to flutter and threaten to close. he didn't realize just how tired he really was until that moment. watching as the bellboy soon take his other hand and slowly guided him to the dreampool, not even fighting or resisting it.

misha showed him where to properly step up into the dreampool but allowed yanqing to do this on his own. hand holding slowly transitioned into tips of fingers touching as the lieutenant soon stood in the glowing waters of the small pool yet yanqing did not look down - his eyes were only on misha even as their fingers were no longer touching and yanqing stepped back, waiting for further instructions.

misha remained near the edge of the dreampool, leaning forward slightly to watch the other boy carefully. " now you just sit down in the water there." he started up while yanqing did just that- found somewhere in the dream where he could sit comfortably while having the bellboy within eye sight as the misha continued on, " oh, well, I say water but it's actually memoria. see these little drops? kinda looks like it's dripping upwards. don't worry! it usually just stays within this state and doesn't actually get out." the bellboy would walk over to the other side of the dreampool where there was a cooler mixed with record player in the wall. the cooler part was mostly used for soulglad though. yanqing watched as misha adjusted the record player or rather record player looking radio, giving small glances over to the lieutenant to see his reactions and readjust the radio based on that before asking what kind of music yanqing liked and then searching for it with the list of infinite music records. misha knew what he was doing while yanqing slowly began to feel fall asleep until his eyes closed.

seeing those deep waters and fish again before reawakening within the hotel located in the dream. once again it was like he was underwater. objects floating in the air and all that good stuff yet none of it had any affect on yanqing as he stepped up and out of the dreampool. he looked around and found that the room was entirely different than the one in realty as there was no radio and some of the tvs on the wall were turned off or coming out from the wall. he could spot the painting he walked through earlier that day.. there was tear in the middle with hands reaching out towards it as if it was just part of the piece. he would notice though.. a black hound with purple glowing eyes. it stood out to yanqing as there was one just like it in realty. it must be how the family is keeping watch of everyone or perhaps just watching the guests of the watchmaker in particular.

this truly was still a prison, wasn’t it? no matter how much the family could redecorate the place and revamp it as a ‘hotel’. these days those who come here aren’t always criminals but all are trying to escape something. to indulge in a beautiful lie. this perfect dream can’t possibly satisfy everyone’s needs.

there is no way he could ask misha about the legacy of the watchmaker with that pesky mutt hanging around. yanqing couldn’t just get rid of it though.. surely it will only be replaced with another or just come right back. this was likely one of the reasons why aventurine advised him to keep his cards close to his chest in penacony- that yanqing should learn how to play the mind game since you don’t know who you can trust in this shattering dream. it was all so complicated.. having to practically walk around on eggshells. yanqing didn’t like it at all. he would much prefer it if things could just be straight forward and simple. yanqing decided to approach the small creature but before he could do or say anything, the black hound vanished upon the boy merely standing in front of it. “ oh. were you troubled by that?” came misha’s voice causing yanqing to look over at him. it seemed the bellboy joined him into the reverie in the dream. “ you remember the one back in realty? yeah! it also will leave if you ever need privacy! just simply interact with it and poof! it will be gone!”

“ oh really?” asked yanqing as this was the first time he heard of that while misha gave a nod in reply. it would appear that little detail had slipped the gambler’s mind or perhaps aventurine took his own advice and kept that ‘card’ to himself. there really was no knowing. " good to know. anyway- I just go back through that painting again, right?"

[firstaidspray]

This would be Reverie's wallpaper and lock screen and she'd also probably print it out and put it in her wallet. She posts it on her Instagram like "every day is Heaven with him 🩵🩷💕🩵🩷✨️💕✨️🪽✨️🪽🪽💕✨️🩵✨️🪽💕 @ robertchasemd 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰" and House comments mean things on the post but she just keeps deleting them

[chucklefuckmusic]

Every ‘The Apples In Stereo’ Album* Ranked

*with some caveats; more accurately its “Every Main ‘The Apples In Stereo’ CD Ranked”

We all love Neutral Milk Hotel, yeah? Or more accurately, we’re all generally familiar with NMH. If you’ve been in any music group or page on the internet, it’s highly unlikely you haven’t at least seen the cover of NMH’s famous 1998 In The Aeroplane Over The Sea album. Personally, I think it, and the overshadowed On Avery Island are fantastic albums and the talents of Jeff Mangum and co. shine through those two albums, but I think I’ll be the first to admit that literally everyone has talked about Neutral Milk Hotel. Doesn’t matter if you’re on Music Tumblr, Twitter, aesthetic music Instagram accounts or (god forbid) /mu/, but I cannot really say anything about the mighty Mangum and his album about Anne Frank that hasn’t already been said. However, I can talk quite a bit about the man who produced ITAOTS (Robert Schneider; not to be confused with Adam Sandler’s buddy) and his most famous band.

As many of you are familiar, The Elephant 6 Recording Company was quite a significant powerhouse in the mid to late 1990s when it came to lo-fi and psychedelic-inspired indie music. Notable bands from Elephant 6 include the aforementioned Neutral Milk Hotel, the Olivia Tremor Control, of Montreal, Beulah, The High Water Marks, Elf Power, The Minders, and Circulatory System, to name a few. For this ranking, I will be looking at one of the most famous from the collective, and one of the original three bands that formed E6 along with Neutral Milk Hotel and the Olivia Tremor Control: the Apples in Stereo.

I love a lot of bands. Anyone who has talked to me know that I love stuff like Green Day and the pillows, but out of all the bands who entire primary discography I’ve listened to, the Apples in Stereo is one of only a few that are, on average, incredibly consistent with their overall quality. I can listen to (almost) every album of theirs and find myself in a great mood. This band is perfect for when you’re taking a walk on the beach during a sunset, or driving home on a dark night from a long day, or just chilling casually with friends on a nice day. While the Apples in Stereo is one of the more famous bands from E6, I haven’t found that much in terms of writings online regarding a proper ranking with in-depth explanations. The community that exists is super passionate and has a lot of cool shit from throughout the bands existence, but not much new stuff for about a decade. Outside of OG Apples fans, Elephant 6 connoisseurs, or fans of the OG Powerpuff Girls, there’s a strong possibility that many of you aren’t at all familiar with the Apples. That shit can’t stand, so here I shall be taking you on this journey...then you’ll know how it feels to know you’re not real.

Caveats before starting: in this list, I am including all primary Apples albums/LPs, in addition to their EPs released on CD, and one B-Sides/Rarities compilation. Their two debut EPs, Tidal Wave 7″ & Hypnotic Suggestions will be represented collectively under the Science Faire compilation. I will also be combining the EPs Look Away +4 & Let’s Go! in the same ranking to make things easier for me. The Live in Chicago digital album and the two “greatest hits” compilation albums (Sound Effects & #1 Hits Explosion) will not be included.

Additionally, I want to give credit, thanks, and apologies to @kpoppapi/@idolisnotdead due to the fact that I am essentially taking the same format they used on their ranking of every the pillows album. Pls don’t sue.

Got that? Now then, Let’s Go!

1. Fun Trick Noisemaker (1995)

This album, man...this banger album...let me tell you an anecdote, when I first listened to this album I was out at night enjoying the stars. They were particularly bright and plentiful due to a power outage knocking out most of the surrounding light pollution. And the moment it began with that record fuzz noise and that old 1960s Relay 2 Satellite broadcast recording began with its classy yet surreal archaic narration, I was already aware that I was in for a treat. And then, boom, the opening drums and chords kick in for ‘Tidal Wave’. It was the best.

If you talk with fans of the Apples and/or E6 about their best/favorite albums, their debut album Fun Trick Noisemaker will definitely be mentioned. Sound-wise, it encapsulates a raw, genuine sense of lo-fi that you can’t really find anywhere else in their discography, save for the EPs that make up Science Faire. Schneider also clearly is utilizing the Phil Spector technique of the “Wall of Sound” method that lends itself to a dense instrumental which can sometimes be a rough listen to some, but personally I don’t have that issue with this album.

There are so many fucking bangers on this album, and some of the Apples greatest essentials can be found on it. From the reutilized ‘Tidal Wave’ and ‘Glowworm’ from their previous EPs, to more lowkey and lo-fi tracks such as ‘Green Machine’ and ‘She’s Just Line Me/Taking Time,’ to bombastic tracks such as ‘Winter Must Be Cold’ (lyrics courtesy of their first drummer, Hilarie Sidney) and ‘Dots 1-2-3,’ to the dense and beefy guitars of ‘Lucky Charm’ and ‘Show the World,’ this album is a choice listen on a nice day or summer evening. My favorite track from the album, ‘High Tide,’ never fails to put a smile on my face.

There’s frankly not much else to say about this album. Every track on here is fantastic. This is the Apples in Stereo at their pinnacle, and a fun experience all around.

10/10 Top tier shit, right here.

2. The Discovery of a World Inside the Moone (2000)

Okay so...you know how I said I was taking inspiration from the format that @idolisnotdead used on their Pillows ranking? Well...I swear to god that the placement of this album and my feeling towards it, when compared to their placement of the Pillows album Good Dreams and how they feel about it, is completely coincidental. I swear to you.

Anyways with that being said, The Discovery of a World Inside the Moone (which we will shorten to Moone going forward) is my personal all-time favorite Apples album. This is an opinion that I don’t think is super common among Apples fans. While I think that Fun Trick Noisemaker is their best work, I ADORE this album and always have a great time listening to it. Perhaps it’s due to Schneider’s decision to shift away from Spector’s “Wall of Sound” production towards a more loose/raw sounding audio aesthetic, but this album was one that when I first listened to it in full, I immediately listened through it again. And then again.

This one is particular is a bit of a stylistic mix with a common theme of psychedelic pop, which is heavily evident in tracks like ‘What Happened Then’ and the Beatles-esque ‘Submarine Dream,’ along with bombastic guitar melodies in ‘I Can’t Believe’ and ‘Allright/Not Quite’[sic]. Schneider himself has stated that he wanted each song to be distinct with spaces between for the sake of putting your record needle down where you want - akin to the Beatles White Album (albeit, this record has waaaaaaaaay more cohesion). 

Other highlights from this album include the triumphant and upbeat horn section in the opening track ‘Go,’ the more chill nature of ‘Stream Running Over’ and ‘Look Away,’ Hilarie Sidney’s marvelous contributions with ‘20 Cases Suggestive Of..’[sic] and ‘Stay Gold,’ and one of my favorite Apples songs of all time: ‘The Bird That You Can’t See.’ Holy DAMN I love that song. You’ll sometime hear me humming the chorus and melody if you catch me in a good mood. The interlude is stuck in my head as I type this.

Come down, plant your feet into the ground...feel free, plant your mind in mystery...

Anyways! Alongside Fun Trick Noisemaker, Moone would be the first album I’d recommend to someone unfamiliar with the Apples. Fans of psychedelic-pop and lo-fi will get a kick out of this, and I think even those who aren’t super into LPs will get a lot of good feelings out of this one.

10/10 I am biased on this one. Some Apples fans might rank it more like 8/10, but nonetheless, go give this one a listen and have a good time.

3. Velocity of Sound (2002)

HOT DAMN! This is the Apples in Stereo? If one thing is for certain, that title doesn’t lie. Velocity of Sound is perhaps the most unique of the Apples discography in general tone and direction, but by all means this is to the albums benefit. It is just. So. Damn. FUN!!!! The songs in this one are more fast paced, louder, aggressive, electric and dynamic in distorted guitar and bombastic drums. It is definitely a rock ‘n roll album that’ll make you want to dance (or at least, it makes me want to dance).

From the beginning, the opening track ‘Please’ gives us a massive cathartic guitar opening, along with Schneider and Sidney singing like they just won the lottery. I have a strong feeling that everyone had fun with this album, and when I hear it I can’t help but feel that vicariously. ‘That’s Something I Do’ is so fun and cute, and I say it could potentially be considered a pop-punk song...maybe. It certainly wouldn’t be out of place if sung by Blink-182, which is not a bad thing in my eyes. When I listen to it, I think of Mae and Gregg’s friendship in Night in the Woods.

Highlights of this album include the aforementioned opening ‘Please’ and ‘That’s Something I Do,’ alongside bangers such as ‘Rainfall,’ ‘Do you Understand,’ ‘Better Days,’ and ‘I Want’  just to name a few. Bassist Eric Allen even gets a chance to flex his songwriting ability with the upbeat ‘Yore Days.’ 

I should make this quick disclaimer: the American and British versions of Velocity of Sound concludes with the song ‘She’s Telling Lies’ but the former is Bryce [Goggin’s] Mix, and the latter is Robert [Schneider’s] mix. From what I can tell, Robert’s Mix is more distorted and raw sounding, while Bryce’s mix is more polished. Other than that, I think the recordings are generally the same but with different production mixing. (Also, the Japanese release swaps ‘She’s Telling Lies’ with ‘Other,’ but we will get back to that).

Overall consensus towards Velocity of Sound among Apples fans is generally positive, and I completely agree. Might sound like a broken record with this, but this album, like the others, is a fucking banger and an amazing time. It could arguably be interchangeable with any of these top three, or even (some may argue) Tone Soul Evolution and Her Wallpaper Reverie, but when I think of the Apples in Stereo I think of a good time, and this album delivers it hard.

10/10 This one is a forever banger. Play it in a basement with your troublemaker friends, and have fun.

4. Science Faire (1996)

And here we are at the beginning. This one is a compilation of the Apples first two EPs: Tidal Wave 7″ (1993) and Hypnotic Suggestion (1994), along with three miscellaneous tracks at the end which were either unreleased or released on split EPs and other formats. 

I’ll say upfront: Science Faire was the first Apples CD I ever bought. It was sitting in the “used miscellaneous CDs” section of my local record store, and recognizing them from their appearance in The Powerpuff Girls, I was eager to hear more from them. And as a compilation of their earliest, raw, unpolished, unapologetically lo-fi tracks, this was a great introduction. Even with improved production values on all their albums going forward, Science Faire continues to be a blast to listen to. 

Personally, I have a lot of nostalgia and admiration for every song on here. Standout tracks include the heavy ‘Motorcar’ and ‘Hypnotic Suggestion,’ which both feature heavy vocal and guitar distortion, ‘Not the Same,’ which starts out slow and then gets bombastic very quickly, instrumental tracks such as the bubbly ‘Turncoat Indian’ and the slightly ominous ‘To Love the Vibration of the Bulb,’ the earlier, unpolished versions of ‘Tidal Wave’ and ‘Glowworm;’ both of which appeared again on Fun Trick Noisemaker. The final track ‘Rocket Pad’ is also particularly catchy. The original bassist for the Apples, Jim Mclntyre, contributes a couple songs on the compilation: ‘Stop Along the Way,’ ‘Touch the Water,’ and ‘To Love the Vibration of the Bulb.’

However, my absolute favorite from Science Faire and one of my all time favorite Apples in Stereo songs is ‘Haley.’ That guitar and the raw repetition of the song hits differently for me, ya know? I fuckingggggggggg loveeeeeeee it.

With this all being said, some people who are not as accustomed to unpolished lo-fi audio might have a harder time listening to this compared to the rest of the Apples discography, and there are times where the rudimentary production is sometimes distracting, but for me it adds character and soul to the early days of one of my favorite bands.

9.5/10 A killer compilation showcasing the talent that the Apples would sophisticate over time. Pure. Raw. Energy.

5. New Magnetic Wonder (2007)

Here we are in some interesting territory. I will openly admit that, for the longest time, I didn’t really listen much to this album. The first double LP and 2 CD album from the Apples, their first album after five years of inactivity since Velocity of Sound in 2002, and the first Apples album released under a co-venture with E6, Yep Roc Records, and Elijah Wood’s Simian Records, there is definitely a slight change in formula in terms of production and content. At first, this slightly overwhelmed me from listening to New Magnetic Wonder in full, but I eventually got around to it later on (and as someone who has cosplayed both Frodo Baggins, and Wirt from Over the Garden Wall, I will not do Elijah Wood dirty).

And holy hot damn, this album is pretty damn good!

I’ve noticed a lot of appreciation on the internet for this album, even sometime surpassing albums higher in this list in reputation. So what is the gist of this album? Firstly, there is an eclectic assortment of songs, styles, and instruments packed in this baby, and with 24 tracks contained in this baby, only about 14 are “technically” songs, with the rest being “link tracks.” The opening track ‘Can You Feel It?’ with robotic, distorted, Daft-Punk-esque vocals singing Turn up the stereo~ before Schneider breaks into his bombastic, upbeat singing sets the stage for this diverse album. There seems to be a solid mix of clean, polished audio mixing alongside purposefully rough, unpolished, and lo-fi audio. There’s also more general utilization of piano; a first for the Apples.

Examples of variety include ‘Energy,’ a charming standout track that mixes smooth acoustic guitar strumming with distorted singing, electric guitars, and (inexplicably) a cowbell, and ‘Sun is Out’ which starts out with a cute little chiptune and Schneider playing acoustic guitar on audio that sounds like it’s from a demo cassette, before transitioning into a polished mixture of smooth bass, a strong acoustic guitar playing in the left channel, alongside what seems to be the band playing literal woodwind recorders in the background. Fun stuff. This album also introduces tracks that involve the “Non-Pythagorean scale,” which was developed by Schneider in a way which I don’t understand because math is my worst subject, but this hints to Schneider’s deep knowledge and interest in mathematics. 

This album is incredibly eclectic, and although Schneider compared Moone to the Beatles White Album, it’s this one here that I think is closer to that in terms of cohesion. This is not necessarily bad, though! However, to a small degree my biggest criticism of the White Album applies to New Magnetic Wonder: it’s length is partially due to filler, and some of the “link tracks” are frankly forgettable to me. With that being said, it doesn’t harm my enjoyment of the album that much in the grand scheme of things.

This album really does feel like you’re travelling through space. ‘7 Stars’ is particularly brilliant to listen to when sitting out on top of your car on a starry night. It’s got a catchy melody, clever lyrics, and the chorus which honestly is one of the highlights of the Apples catalogue. ‘Open Eyes’ is another good track to listen to at night, but I must admit that it sounds like an Oasis/Liam Gallagher song from the early 2000s. Take that as you will. Other highlights of the album include ‘Joanie Don’t U Worry’[sic], ‘Play Tough,’ ‘Pre-Crimson’ courtesy of Allen, and ‘Radiation.’ Two Sidney songs show up on the album: ‘Sunndal Song’[sic] and ‘Sunday Sounds’ which are both great, and unfortunately are the last we’ll hear from Hilarie Sidney, as she left the band around the time this album came out.

Wow. I typed way more on this album than I thought I would. Par for the course, I suppose. 

A bit much, a bit experimental, but overall I think this album has earned its spot here, and the praise it gets is earned and understandable. It might be long, but I recommend dedicating a couple hours in the evening to listening to this baby in whole. It’s a swell time!

8/10

6. Her Wallpaper Reverie (1999)

I’m not going to lie to y’all, this one was the toughest for me to figure out where on this list it should go. On one hand, this album has some of the most essential Apples songs on it, it’s got some of my favorites, and I listen to it waaaaaaaaaaaay more than New Magnetic Wonder. On the other hand, there are some factors with this album that compel me to put it in this spot below New Magnetic Wonder. I shall explain those now, and then go on to explain why I fucking adore this album still.

Her Wallpaper Reverie is deceptive in its track list correlating to its length. With fifteen tracks listed, one would be forgiven for assuming it’s roughly the same length as Fun Trick Noisemaker and Tone Soul Evolution. The reality of the situation is that this album here sits at a mere 27 minutes in length. This length could warrant a decently-sized EP. So what is the deal? Most of the tracks, notated by roman numerals, are variations of the same melody. Granted, it is a nice melody and the band gets creative with all the various ways it plays it, but since there are more of these melodies than actual songs, it leaves one desiring more. And if I am being frank, some of the melodies such as ‘iv. From Outside, in Floats a Music Box’ and ‘vi. Drifting Patterns’ are long enough in length that when I listen to this album on my iPod, I am compelled to skip them. That's a bit of a bummer. 

WITH THAT ALL BEING SAID, I still fucking love this album. It’s surreal, it’s aesthetic, it feels like I’m floating out in the sea on a dingy boat, or am a merman myself when I listen to ‘The Shiny Sea.’ I’ve noticed that two of my favorite Apples songs are about the ocean...this one and ‘High Tide’ from Fun Trick Noisemaker. Interesting. 

Meanwhile, ‘Strawberryfire’[sic] is beautiful to listen to, and is Sgt. Pepper-esque in its lyrical content and instrumentation. As with Moone, the psychedelic pop is strong with this one. ‘Ruby’ is a cute as hell and catchy as hell, ‘Questions and Answers’ has Hillarie Sidney singing one of my favorite songs of hers with an iconic opening chord and creative lyrics, ‘Y2K’ is, as someone born in late 1999, really funny in retrospect and particularly relevant in terms of how much the United States media is plagued by manufactured consent, and the penultimate and final (song) tracks, “Benefits of Lying (with Your Friend)’ and ‘Ruby, Tell Me’ are both low-key, lo-fi, and generally chill and melancholic to listen to.

I think that, while the length of this album and the prevalence of melody tracks brings it down a bit, to listen to Her Wallpaper Reverie is like enjoying a high-quality dessert. Sure, it might not technically be healthy, but the ingredients that pop out are of high quality, and you get a feeling of honest satisfaction after everything is said and done. I see a lot of people talk about this album as their favorite (especially on the horrific landscape known as /mu/), and I can completely understand it! It might not be my favorite, but it is damn good, and I especially recommend it to anyone who likes the Olivia Tremor Control or Neutral Milk Hotel.

8/10 Some flaws, but what glitters in this one is pure gold.

7. Look Away +4 (2000)

&

Let’s Go! (2001)

Okay okay okay so, this one I am going to cheat a bit. Look Away +4 and Let’s Go! are separately released EPs. The former consists of the track ‘Look Away,’ which would appear on Moone, along with four tracks that were bonuses at the end of the Australian and Japanese releases of Her Wallpaper Reverie. The latter is an EP containing the song ‘Signal in the Sky (Let’s Go)’ from the Cartoon Network classic The Powerpuff Girls in the episode ‘Superfriends,’ where the girls befriend their new neighbor Robin, and which was additionally made into an official Cartoon Network music video that played in between commercials during the early 2000s. The album cover for Let’s Go! even includes caricatures of the band as drawn by Powerpuff Girls creator Craig McCracken! That’s pretty fucking sweet. I love all of his shows.

And yes, it was in the same Powerpuff episode that this joke that every fucking 14 year old on the internet since this episode aired over two decades ago has joked about in their “TOP 10 DIRTIEST ADULT JOKES IN KIDS CARTOONS (NOT CLICKBAIT)” videos:

But enough about that. 

I’ve combined these two as they are only available on CD format, that they are not included in 2008 B-sides and rarities compilation Electronic Projects for Musicians, and, well, because I say so. So that is that. Due to their combined lengths, I will talk about each individual song. There is some “eh” in this collection, but at the same time some of these songs are in my all time favorite Apples in Stereo songs.

Look Away +4 begins with the titular ‘Look Away’ from Moone, which is a great song! I don’t really have much else to say about it here; go back to #2 on this list. ‘Behind the Waterfall’ is a long, trippy song with a lot of distortion and what seems to be...the sound of squishy water?? Schneider alternates between smoothly mixed singing with hard, aggressive guitars and distorted vocals during the vocals. An interesting song, but overall I think it’s pretty good. He really doesn’t want to be like the sun, though. They don’t seem him at all. He stands behind the waterfall. Just thought I’d let you know. Some people be like that.

‘Everybody Let Up’ and ‘Her Pretty Face’ are two of my all time favorite Apples in Stereo songs. I am flabbergasted at how underrated and unknown these two songs are. The former is a catchy, fun song about living se-la-vie and dealing with the ennui of late teenage-dom and early 20s: “I don’t feel like doing shit.” Damn I love this song. The latter is perhaps Sidney’s most beautiful and melancholic song in the bands catalogue. Back then, it made me think about past crushes, and now it makes me think about how it’s bad to treat someone like the idea of them in your head instead of how they are in reality. It also makes me think of GAY. I don’t know. Sad song, but very pretty. Much like her face (it’s all you know).

‘The Friar’s Lament’ is alright. It’s short, and honestly to me it’s just alright. If this is your favorite song, I apologize for my generally apathetic feelings towards it. And that concludes Look Away +4.

Meanwhile, Let’s Go! starts out with a track that I bet most of you have already heard: ‘Signal in the Sky (Let’s Go),’ which is also featured on the Powerpuff album Heroes & Villains. If you’re a fan of The Powerpuff Girls or Cartoon Network in general, this song is up there with ‘Back to the Lab Again,’ ‘My Best Friend Plank,’ They Might Be Giant’s little Courage the Cowardly Dog song (which @waymu asserts is the John’s worst song), and ‘The Incredible Shrinking Day.’ 

And, yeah! It is a good song! It’s fun, it’s catchy, and it’s pretty good for the Apples. To me though, it’s kind of like how I feel about a song like Green Day’s ‘Good Riddance’ or the Beatles ‘I Want to Hold Your Hand’ in the sense where it was the first song from the band that I heard in my life, and while I love it, I feel like I have matured since then. I love ‘Signal in the Sky (Let’s Go)’ and it will always have a special place in my heart, but I feel like I have matured in my Apples in Stereo since then. There are objectively better songs from the band.

‘If You Want to Wear a Hat,’ meanwhile, is fucking adorable. As the only original track on the EP, it’s a charming song about the wacky and terrifying world of fashion. On the subject of Craig McCracken shows, this song would be fitting if played in Fosters Home for Imaginary Friends. Also, there is a piano interlude in this song so I redact what I said when talking about New Magnetic Wonder...they DID have piano before that album...although one could still argue that it wasn’t yet on an LP of theirs!!

The remaining three tracks are a live cover of the Beach Boys ‘Heroes and Villains’ song, recorded live at a show they did in Chicago in 2000 (which is a cool piece of history and the band plays it good, but the audio on this track is TERRIBLE by fault of being recorded in 2000 on something), an acoustic version of ‘Stream Running Over’ from Moone (which is wonderful), and the demo for ‘Signal in the Sky (Let’s Go)’ (which is pretty cool). Hm. Yep, that’s all I have to say about that.

These two EPs are pretty alright for what you are getting. They’re not perfect, and there are some duds within, but with how much I love some of the songs on Look Away +4 and how culturally important their song from The Powerpuff Girls is in terms of bringing awareness and fans to the band, I’d recommend that anyone looking to listen to all of the Apples discography listen to these. These are good times!

Individually, Look Away +4 gets a 4/5 and Let’s Go! gets a 3/5, which I will combine for a grand collective total of 7/10

8. Tone Soul Evolution (1997)

OKAY OKAY SO this is probably going to be my most controversial placement on this list. I guarantee that an OG Apples fan is preparing their pitch-forks and torches, because when you talk with hardcore fans of the Apples in Stereo and ask them what their favorite albums are, they’ll definitely include Tone Soul Evolution alongside Fun Trick Noisemaker. I completely understand and respect that! So then, why so low on my list? 

Well, I don’t find myself returning to this album individually that often. I don’t know exactly what it is, but a lot of the songs on here are not as catchy and memorable (to me) when compared to its predecessor and successors. Additionally, this was still when Schneider was utilizing Spector’s “Wall of Sound” method with production and audio mixing. While it doesn’t distract me much in Fun Trick Noisemaker, for some reason, it is really evident in Tone Soul Evolution to me, to a point where the guitar in songs such as ‘What’s the #?’ just aren’t as punchy as they would be if produced and mixed differently. The sound is dense, and a bit overwhelming.

HOWEVER,

These are still damn good songs! None of the songs on their own are bad, and some such as ‘About Your Fame’ and ‘Tin Pan Alley’ are some of my favorites from the bands early days. There’s also a plethora of experimentation with this album, such as the twin ‘The Silvery Light of a Dream’ tracks. The first half of the first of these is literally just outdoor night-time sounds, footsteps, clocks, and then it transitions into the seaside. In this case, I think the “Wall of Sound” philosophy actually benefits in immersing you in the environment that the track is presenting. It’s honestly really cool!

Highlight tracks include the opening track ‘Seems So,’ ‘About Your Fame,’ ‘Silver Chain’ courtesy of Sidney, ‘We’ll Come to Be,’ ‘Tin Pan Alley,’ and ‘Coda.’

I feel bad for ranking this one so low. I know it means a lot to a lot of people, but compared to what came before it and what comes after it, while the songs are amazing, the production and sound design keeps it in the lower tier of Apples in Stereo albums.

With that being said, lower tier for the Apples is still pretty damn good. Think of the Pizza scale from Night in the Woods. There is bad pizza, but everything immediately above bad pizza is still really damn good. Anyways,

6.5/10 leaning towards a soft 7/10. Please don’t hurt me.

9. Electronic Projects for Musicians (2008)

Here’s the other outlier in this list: the elusive B-sides and rarities collection, Electronic Projects for Musicians. Released as the second Apples CD through the triple junction of E6, Yep Roc, and Elijah Wood’s Simian Records, this is potentially a companion piece to Science Faire (at least, that’s what Wikipedia claims). Every piece of non-main album content is on here, with the exception of songs from Look Away +4 and Let’s Go! for licensing reasons.

Most of these songs came from additional tracks on the Japanese releases of the albums, through 7″ split singles with other bands, occasional unreleased songs/internet exclusives, and even a cameo from Stephen Colbert himself (in the form of an Apples song...he doesn’t sing in it).

Tonally, this album is all over the place in terms of cohesion by nature of being a B-side and rarities album. I do not fault it for that. However, there is one noticeable thing with this compilation that @waymu and I have talked about.

It’s.

Really.

Fucking.

Loud.

Like, distractingly so. It kind of hurts my ears in a way. This can be alleviated through turning down the volume, but that also makes it harder to listen to the Apples! This is truly the worst of all possible worlds. My understanding is that this album was mastered from various different sources, including flexi-disc and the likes, and I understand that there were potential challenges in making sure they were all at a consistent homogenous level. But...man this hurts my ears. When you have that flaw in an album, it’s a real bummer.

With that being said, there are amazing songs on here! The titular ‘Shine (in Your Mind)’[sic] is catchy and absolutely fits at home with Fun Trick Noisemaker, the ‘Thank You Very Much’ track that follows with Schneider thanking the Japanese listeners for listening to the album is just adorable, ‘Onto Something’ is perhaps, one of the greatest Apples songs ever created, and we get an eclectic mix of titles from ‘The Oasis’ to the French-language ‘Avril en Mai,’ to the concluding track to the Japanese release of Velocity of Sound entitled ‘Other,’ which is a kick-ass song, but I must confess that I think ‘She’s Telling Lies’ is a stronger closer for that album, and the unreleased song ‘Dreams’ intended for Tone Soul Evolution. 

The song written for The Colbert Report ‘Stephen Stephen’ is charming and funny for the show it was made for, but in all honestly I’ve always preferred Conan and John Oliver, so “eh.” Meanwhile, “The Apples Theme Song” which was used on their official website from back in the day is a super adorable song that could’ve been the theme song to a cartoon based on the band (which I would hope was created by Craig McCracken. If I had a choice between that and a third season of Wander Over Yonder...I would still go for more Wander Over Yonder to be honest. Disney did that show dirty...).

Overall this is a good collection of songs, but it is still a bummer that the audio levels are loud to to the point that it distracts. If you are a CD collector or want to own everything Apples in Stereo, go ahead and get this. But if you’re an audiophile or are sensitive to super loud music...maybe just find where these B-sides originally came from. Sorry.

5.5/10 Because my ears hurt. ‘Shine (in Your Mind)’ and ‘Onto Something’ are both solid 10/10 though.

10. Travellers in Space and Time (2010)

As of 2022, this is the most current Apples in Stereo album released. The first in the post-Sidney era. The third of the triple labels of E6, Yep, and Simian. This album is also heavily influenced by Electric Light Orchestra. I am not the most familiar with them, but I do like those ‘Mr. Blue Sky’ memes I see online! With all this in mind, we are at the bottom of the Apple bucket. It’s not necessarily rotten, but...well...we’ll get to that. Here is Travellers in Space and Time, which we will refer to as Travellers moving forward.

Anyways, this album begins with a narrative section entitled ‘The Code’ which is reminiscent of the opening narration of Fun Trick Noisemaker. I couldn’t exactly find where the source of this audio was, but it was neat! 

I won’t beat around the bush, I have a hard time listening to Travellers. 

Maybe it’s nostalgia or familiarity bias that clouds my perception, but this also applied to New Magnetic Wonder and I ended up loving that album! And I also want to make clear, this album is by no means bad. I know bad albums when I see them (sometimes). This is not to the Apples what Father of All Motherfuckers is to Green Day.

It’s just...underwhelming, and it drags at parts.

The opening song after ‘The Code,’ entitled ‘Dream About the Future’ is slightly reminiscent of ‘Joanie Don’t U Worry’ in terms of tone and some of the melodic characteristics, but it’s not as dynamic and admittedly, I think that this song drags. I think that its repetition and structure would’ve worked better if the time was reduced by half. 

The remaining tracks were of similar caliber to me. ‘Dance Floor’ was too long, so was ‘No One in the World,’ so was ‘Nobody But You.’ Those three songs also all feel too similar to me in terms of lyrical content. I am not here to knock love songs or songs about having the hots for someone, as that consists of most of the Apples catalogue, but these songs are just generic and reminiscent of early 1960s pop songs imitating the Beatles first two albums. Honestly, this album feels to me more like what the Beatles ‘With The Beatles” era sound is like. That is by no means bad, but when compared to everything the Apples have created leading up to this album, it’s just disappointing to me.

It’s not all doom and gloom, however. I think the best track on here is a legitimately great track: ‘Next Year at About the Same Time’ from our good ol’ Apples basis Allen. He’s always got hidden gems in the Apples catalogue. ‘Floating in Space’ is also a really good track, written and sung by John Dufilho, who replaced Sidney as the drummer.

I don’t really know what else to add to this place. I know some people like this album, and that’s awesome and more power to you all. 

I also am not here to shit on Robert Schneider and where he was at this point in his career. After this album, aside from some supplemental releases and side-projects, he has since become a gosh darn math professor in universities! That is absolutely awesome and I would definitely geek out (in a healthy way) if I ever got the opportunity to meet him. I hope he’s doing good (and also if he reads this post...holy shit hi and I’m sorry if I was mean at all with Travellers). 

But with that all being said, I think that unless you are very curious to hear this album, are a huge Apples fan, or are a completionist...this one is skippable.

4/10 Sorry guys, I still love y’all

Postscript (kinda)

Phew! That was my first album ranked list. I would like to once again credit and give apologies to @idolisnotdead​ for basically utilizing their format verbatim. Thank you all for reading this, I’ll post another one whenever that happens, and if you haven’t yet, please give the Apples in Stereo a listen! 

[visualtones]

The Apples In Stereo - Her Wallpaper Reverie

1999

[te-al-latte]

Draco stared at the woman on top of him, his eyes boring into her own. He felt the pressure of her knee on his rib cage, saw the pain in her brown eyes.

“Why are you hesitating, Granger?” He asked almost gently. “Do it, Merlin knows I deserve it.”

Time slowed as time does when death approaches. But there were no flashes of his life before him, no memories to comfort him on his way to the end. Nothing but the void entrenched in his soul, a hollowness in his chest. He would think it peace but Draco Malfoy was no optimist. Not anymore, anyway.

Death comes in many guises, Draco thought, almost amused, and he was thankful that his came in the form of Hermione Granger.

Then he felt it. A single wet drop touching his pale skin. It was enough to awaken him from his morbid reverie. Draco looked at the woman on top of him, his eyes boring into hers. He felt another drop of tear land on his face then saw the agony in brown eyes.

“I… can’t,” She whispered, the words rasping her throat. “I can’t.”

Finally finished this piece. HD and clear version in my patreon if you want it as a nice old wallpaper! ✨

[barbiewritesstuff]

Chapter 9: Easy Peasy

-- I wanted a happier Jake so here he is

tw. NSFW, smutty

Taglist: @because-edmund @blue-aconite

He entered the dance hall right behind you. 

It felt like he had stepped into a different world

Most people were dressed up to the nines in their best evening wear, drinking fancy cocktails out of old glasses. A jazzy tune muffled by distance played as background to everyone's conversations. Jake couldn't stop the smile on his face. 

The dance hall's front door had opened into a hallway. The floor was stone with a thin red carpet towards on the stairs and along the main pathways. The walls were wallpapered in white with gold detailing and the arched ceiling held a beautiful golden chandelier. On either side of the main staircase was a bar. 

The room you were leading Jake to was directly in front of the main staircase. You wished you'd worn better clothes or that you hadn't allowed your mother to drag you out somewhere that evening. 

You had dropped off your bag in the coat room at the entrance, but you really regretted not having your phone. Jake looked lost in wonder, it would have made for a good photo.

Once you managed to herd him into the dance room, Jake seemed to be enthralled by the dance floor. People in all sorts of clothes, vintage and modern were dancing a fast swing to the beat of the live band on stage. 

You found a small table with some chairs to sit at and picked your seat. The chair was surprisingly soft and plushy for what was essentially a wooden chair covered in fabric. Jake was still standing, although this time he was looking at you.

"Ma'am, has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?"

You laughed 

"Oh yes, I hear it every day"

"Liars. The lot of them" He said, side eyeing you for your reaction. You made a beig show of being scandalised and gently slapped his arm. He chuckled.

"In all seriousness, you are beautiful" 

Jake didn't know where the sudden boldness was coming from but he let his mouth speak without thinking too much. 

It was strange, when he was with the team, or Mav or anyone else he felt crowded even in an empty room, but here with you, it felt like you were alone in the world. 

"I asked around about you on base, seems you have quite the reputation as a ladies' man" 

Yes, his carefully crafted reputation… A reputation he deserved right after The Incident, but now it was no longer applicable it only served to make the chasm between his real life and the pretend life he had for his Lieutenant Jake Hangman Seresin persona more obvious.

"Just means I know what I'm talking about, sweetheart"

"Is that so?

He hummed in agreement.

"They also say you had a rather gruesome accident that landed you in hospital" you stated "Is that why you took so long to reply to me, then?" 

He held up his still bandaged hand.

"Damaged my texting hand, I'm afraid, and I'm useless with the other one"

"Who replied to my text then"

"I asked a friend"

"Does your friend help with other things you can't do?"

"Well, aren't you forward" He laughed, then added "Sadly, I am yet to find someone to help with that…" 

"I volunteer"

"I'll put you to work, don't worry. Right now though, I want to dance"

He held out his head and you grabbed. His bad hand went against her waist and the good one grabbed her hand. The music had changed for a slow dance. Jake held you tight against his chest and you dropped your head against his shoulder. His nose gently nuzzled your hair. 

You swayed like that for what fel like hours, even after the music changed again to a faster tune. 

Eventually you both woke up from you reverie and looked at each other, Jake lifted his bandaged hand to your cheek and leaned in to kiss you. You had kissed before but this was different. Your previous had been hot, heavy and electric. This one was slow and passionate, Jake's tongue gently licked at your bottom lip and you returned the favour. When you came up for air, the only think you could think about was how well his lips fit against yours.

"What time is it?"

It was four pm, and you had to go. You excused yourself to Jake

"I thought you were going to help with certain things?"

"I'm sorry. I'll call when I'm done with my mom. I can help you then"

"I suppose I can wait a little longer"

At nine pm, Jake shot you a text. He hadn't been able to think about anything but you. Not necessarily in a sexual way, but in a very intimate way. The way you had danced together had awoken something in him that he had never felt before. 

Just as he was starting to think you'd forgotten you sent a text asking where you might meet him.

"Rooster?" God this felt awkward, he felt like a teenager again "Do you mind if I have a girl over?" 

"Dude. Are you twelve? Obviously not. Just, you know, keep it down" Rooster laughed, Jake turned a lovely shade of beet red, when he recovered from the humiliation he stuck out his middle finger. 

He texted you almost as soon as he entered his room again. 

"I'll be 25 minutes" you texted back.

Jake tidied and showered just in time for you to arrive, when you rang the doorbell, he was standing behind the door psyching himself up. He opened the door.  After a quick kiss he whispered:

"My room's upstairs, my housemate is in the kitchen"  

"Okay" You giggled "why are we avoiding him?"

"He's chatty" Jake replied, winking at you. He snuck you up the stairs and into his room. 

"How kind of you to volunteer your help"

"How about you show me what I need to help with"

Jake smiled, lifted both of his hands in their and you laughed 

"Right, no hand."

You unzipped his trousers and helped them drop to the floor before feeling him through his trousers. He kissed you, his hands on your waist. You slipped his underwear off and began jerking his cock. He let out rhythmic little moans to encourage you, looking at you through half open eyes.

He thrust his hips in time with your hand a few times before stopping himself. 

"I don't want to come yet" He mumbled against your mouth, fighting to get your clothes off without really paying attention to what he was doing.

Once naked, Jake pushed you onto the bed. He tried to climb over you but when his bandaged hand bore the weight of his body, he felt a flash of searing hot pain and he fell to the side.  

"Maybe I can help with that too" You straddled him and sank yourself down on his member. Both of you sighed at the feeling. 

Jake was so close already after your handjob and he was trying his hardest not to cum without making sure you had too. Concentrating on anything was so damn hard though because the only thing his brain seemed to want to think about was you. When he wasn't thinking about the feeling of you bouncing on top of him or the sight of your breasts moving with everything you did, he was thinking of how you had felt pressed against him earlier, or how much he wanted to kiss that spot below your ear where your neck turned into your jaw. 

He felt your movements become more halted as your legs stiffened and you came around his member, he took over for a moment. Thrusting deep and fast into you, your moans drowned in the noise of his skin slapping yours. 

Jake managed to delay his orgasm until you came around him one more time but as your pussy tightened around him, he lost himself in the feeling and emptied himself inside of your moaning the dirtiest moan as he did so. 

You climbed off of him and walked to the bathroom with shaky legs as Jake watched you go. He closed his eyes for a moment while he caught his breath. When he opened them again it was to see you crawling into his covers next to him. He joined you and dragged you into a tight cuddle. 

That night, as Jake lay in bed awake and you were asleep next to him, it occurred to him that he might be falling in love with you. It didn't feel like they described it in books, with the butterflies, forgetting how to breathe or how to speak. It had felt like that on the first date, but Jake figured that it had more to do with saving him from himself than with love, because what he felt now wasn't close to comparable. He felt safe, relieved and unburdened when he was with you. Jake couldn't plan for the future, he wasn't sure he'd be there to have one but if he did, Jake knew that he wanted you to be a part of it

[sumontienne]

Ghostlight, Chapter 2 - Wildcats

AO3

 Three rooms down to the right. Pale door. She plays with the doorknob and creaks it open and sees beige wallpaper.

 Everything is gone.

 Diana takes a moment to sit on her bed. The mattress is gone, it’s just a frame, and even then it had little bits taken out of it. She hears gunfire barely audible in the mountains. It’s gone after a moment. And when Diana’s attention fades from out the window she sees the drawer.

 Diana had a diary in the before-time. Now the cover is faded. The pink is gone. White booklet. Faded fingerprints lost to her reverie. Diana finds the lock rusted and tears it off the cheap leather.

 She looks inside.

[monodipita]

OP. 51, no. 6 — Valse Sentimale (Yandere!Alcina Dimitrescu x Reader)

Word count: 3,359

Warnings: GORE & BLOOD WARNING. Yandere content below the cut.

"...darling."  Alcina roused your attention.  You snapped out of your reverie and glanced over to the white-donning woman.  "What is it?"  You asked.  "You dozed off again," she told you, "please.  If you're going to be serious about what we are, then I would like for you to actively participate in our discussion.  Now, about the wedding arrangements—"

Your stare was enough to cut her off.  She looked flabbergasted. "You don't mean to tell me you are still holding off on the idea of marrying me, are you?"  She asked with a suspicious tone.  "After all this time... [Y/N], I—"

"Two weeks is not enough, Alcina.  I have only known and existed around you for two weeks... on top of that, you have taken me away from my family!"  You snapped at her.  "How am I supposed to love someone who threatens my existence and my family?"  You asked.  "Have you thought about me since you "asked" me to stay at this castle?  Sure you may be around me all the time, but I don't think you have truly asked me about how I feel about everything."

Alcina's eyes narrowed, a frown spread across her lips.  "[Y/N], I have told you many times that your family is safe.  You don't have to worry about them anymore, because they're safe.  And when you decide that you are ready to marry me, then I will happily move them into a portion of the castle that you can see and visit every day."  She reached over and gently draped her clothed hand against yours.  "Aren't I being generous by taking you into consideration, my love?"

You released yourself from her grip and glared at her, taking in her handsomely youthful features while disdain showed on your own.  “How many times must I tell you that I’m not ready for marriage?  And still, you refuse to listen to me!  Using my family as an incentive?!”  You hissed through clenched teeth. “I’ve had enough, Alcina.  I’m done!”

Her face went from the calm, pleasant smile that it always held to utter disbelief when you sounded those words with your voice.  Her eyes went wide, her mouth parted agape. “No..!”

It was far too late for her to react.  You were already storming away from the comfortable lounging area and preparing to make your way out of the castle through the dining room area.  You could hear her angrily stomping behind you, her loud footsteps faintly echoing in your ears while you descended the staircase.  Of course she was already on your ass, where else would she be?  “Don’t you walk away from me!” She ordered you. “You are not permitted to leave this castle!”

These were the same words that came from her a few days ago.  Applied in a different sense, but still provoked the same reaction regardless.

“Why?” You asked, your body coming to a full stop so that you could turn and face her, “you know we can’t be together!”

“You will become my spouse, or you and your family's suffering is assured!” You heard her voice growl in that silky-sweet, venomous tone.  Shivers ran down your spine and made you recoil from the woman and back up against the courtyard doors.  How do you say no to someone so powerful?  What would happen to you if you said no?  “I have been on my knees for weeks now, begging you for a chance to have your hand so that I may provide my daughters with the family they desire, but instead you insist—!” With one swift, overwhelming motion, Alcina’s claws protruded from her digits and came slashing down on the wallpaper beside your head.  You instinctively ducked and turned away from her, as if that would do you any good in this situation. “—on making me look like a fool!  But I’ve had enough of your shenanigans,”

She seemed to regain her composure, judging by the woman taking an audible pause.  You couldn’t see any of her actions in this huddled defensive position, but you could imagine she was simply fixing herself to repaint her image.  It was too bad that her image was already sullied by her temper.  “You no longer have a choice, my love.  I’ve decided your fate for you.”

My love.

It was so genuine.  Coming from her, at least.  You knew it was.  You couldn’t quite hear it in her tone, but you knew she was being serious. Alcina always got what she wanted, and you were powerless to resist her.  Even all this time spent on simply trying to get away from her meant nothing ... you were trapped, and that was absolutely correct.  Yes, there might’ve been another way to escape... but how were you going to get out of this??

“Don’t force me to take you anywhere.”  Alcina started, gently and assertively pulling your hand away from your head to make you look up at her.  Her unoccupied hand gently caressed your chin, making her smile.  Her piercing, yellow orbs stared into your soul, even.  You were a little more than just petrified in this situation, making yourself gulp as she towered over you.  “Where are we going, then..?” You asked quietly.

“You’re going to get ready for dinner.”  Alcina responded calmly.  “My daughters and I will be down in twenty minutes.  I expect you to be there, thing, or you will be dearly sorry.”  She removed her tall, robust body away from yours.  Her left hand grabbed your right hand as she began to pull you out of the dining room.

The dinner time came.  You dressed as well as the castle permitted you—nothing less from perfect, as extravagant, imported clothing existed inside the closet waiting just for you.  Like she had been waiting for you to claim this room as yours, it was beautifully furnished, and on top of that, it was right next to her own room.  A door linked between the rooms gave you a glimpse into the life of a giant woman, and you were not left with any questions.

"This way, please."

You followed the maid down the stairs and into the dining room.  You were given a glimpse of the outside world when you approached, making you bitterly reminisce on the fact that the world you saw behind those barred windows was a world you would never have any more contact with.  Beautiful snow on the rooftops that you could see clearly cascaded down onto the floor and decorated the bushes with white.  It was snowing outside.  Outside, you could barely remember what it felt like to be outside.

You turned your attention to the women that all sat before you.  Their faces expectant, their smiles pleasant and deceiving.  You were beginning to expect that something was more at play than here than what you normally thought...

Nervously, you sat down on the chair that was designated to you.  The maid behind you tucked the chair in—forcibly, almost, confining you to the table you were now seated at.  You swallowed thickly, the lump of saliva nearly catching in your throat as the three daughters and their mother stared at you. Eyeing you down.  "It's with great honor that I can announce that you now have a new parent.  [Y/N], you haven't properly met my daughters, have you?"

"I'm Cassandra," the black-haired one stood, bowing, then promptly sitting down after.

"I'm Daniela!"  The blonde one stood, following after her sister's suit.

"And I'm Bela.  It's very nice to meet you, [Y/N]. Mother has spoken a lot about you."  The brunette stood, bowed, then sat down.  "Good, good."  Alcina smiled.  She beamed at her daughters... it was kind of hard to not enjoy how proud she was of her daughters.  Then again, you were also forced into this situation...

"So, I don't want to be the one to beat around the bush.  Mother, can we get to know our parent better?"  She looked over to Alcina with a sickly sweet smile on her face.  Alcina tilted her head so that the brim of her hat shadowed her face.  Her right hand slipped under her hat, likely to actively ponder it with the help of her glove.  "Alright then," she declared and clapped her hands together, "consider it done, girls.  I would love for you to meet the love of my life.  Get to know [Y/N]... intimately."  She purred.  "But, as always, there are rules to these meetings with humans.  What have I told you so far?"

"Don't get overwhelmed... don't bite too much at one time, and don't overstay your welcome."  Daniela recited what she remembered, making you grimace.  What?  "Bite?"  You sounded the words on your lips.  They didn't mean... no, were they joking?  "What does that mean?"

"I'll go first!  I'm the middle child, and those are often the best."  Cassandra laughed with glee as she stood up.  You stared up at her warily while she drew closer to you.  The glint of the sickle shone from the window.  "No, what is that..." you whispered.  "Alcina!"

No response.

”W-what are you do—AH!”

You let out a yell when the closest daughter, Cassandra, used her sickle to stab into your skin, puncturing your forearm.  Blood oozed profusely from the wound—and it would’ve touched the table’s pristine white cloth, had she not immediately gone in afterwards with her lips to lick the wound clean.  Tears immediately fell from your eyes, onto your lap, soaking the top-quality clothing Alcina gave you to wear to dinner.  “Cassandra!  I told you to wait until after dinner to start indulging on your new parent.”  Alcina scolded her daughter.

”Oh, I’m sorry,” Cassandra pulled away.  You stared weakly at the wound in your forearm... no, she had given you the courtesy of not having a hole in it, but the pain hurt like hell and made you nauseous.  “I was just trying to convince [Y/N] to be a part of our family.”  Cassandra glanced over to your pained face, “you know, Mother really loves you.”

”No!  I know how to treat our new parent better.  I have been alive for the longest of the three of us... and I have always been kind to our human guests.”  Daniela teased.  She stood from her spot at the table.

No... no.  What was she going to do?  You didn’t want anything else to happen, not after what just happened.  You wanted to get the hell out of here.  You were already scooting back in your chair to free yourself while the human house maids looked on in silent horror—unable to speak or react in fear of losing their own life, like you might by the end of the night.

”Where are you going, [Y/N]?  You don’t want to eat with your daughters?” Daniela frowned.  “We just want a taste!  Just making sure you’re right for Mother.”  It was a cruel joke.  While you loved Alcina, you couldn’t be with her, and this was the exact reason why.

“Get away from me,” you stiffly replied while your left arm tremblingly clenched the wounded right forearm.  “Alcina, I want to leave.”

”...” Alcina didn’t reply.  Through your bleary vision, you could’ve sworn you saw a look of uncertainty on her features.  What the hell did that mean?

”Alcina,” you repeated her name, louder this time.  Your head bowed and you squeezed the tears out of your eyes by forcing them shut.  You clenched your teeth so tightly that it felt like they could've shattered if you tried any harder.  Pain radiated through your body like a limb that had fallen asleep.  In your ear, you could hear the pacing steps of none-other than the woman who was in pursuit of you.  Daniela was coming closer, and you knew that it didn’t spell anything good.  "Alcina!"

”Mother is only looking out for us, don’t you think?”  Daniela asked you as she stopped.  "We've been waiting for you!  This is just how we get to know you." Just as you were about to launch yourself out of your chair and lunge for the courtyard doors, the vampiress stopped you by grabbing your left hand on top of your injured forearm and applying an absurd amount of pressure on it.  You cried out in pain and released it, just as she had hoped for.  Instead of taking your right arm though, she just took your left hand.  Limp and defeated, you watched as the vampiress took it to her lips.  She sucked the blood right off the uninjured hand.  You could feel her fangs scraping against the thickened skin of your palm.  “See?  I’m better than them.”  She purred as she stepped away from you.  "So rich!  As you are in character.  I can see why Mother likes you!"

”Let me get a chance with the human, Mother!” Bela stood up from her chair so quickly that she nearly felled it.

“Go ahead, darling.”  She approved Bela.

”G-go ahead?!” You sputtered, gritting your teeth together, nearly grinding them at this rate.  “No!  Stay away from me!  You are trying to kill me!”

”[Y/N], please.”  Alcina replied with a low tone, “my daughters are just getting to know you.”  No!  That wasn’t the case at all!  "You're fucking crazy!  I knew it from the start!"  You growled through your teeth.  "I shouldn't have agreed to anything you asked!"

"Do you regret staying with me?  Do you regret accepting my offer to join me in my castle with my loving daughters for as long as you'd like?  Do you regret giving me a chance, [Y/N]?"  Alcina asked before she scowled.  "Yes, I do!"  You hissed.  "You lead me here under false pretenses, and now I'm going to die because of it!"

"I have been nothing but courteous to you while asking for your hand in marriage. You are the one who entertained my thoughts!  And now, I will not let you go.  You are mine now!  Bela!  Make yourself acquainted with your new parent.  Be kind to [Y/N], now, dear."

"Yours?!"  You gasped.  Bela was behind your chair, wrenching your head back to expose your bare neck.  You gasped out.  It didn't hurt, no, but it startled you.  You didn't even hear her footsteps, let alone understand how she was able to teleport behind you.  But if they were all supernatural beings, it could've just added onto the long list of things they could do.  "Please, don't do this," you tried to beg to Bela. "There are better ways to get about to making yourself known to me, and this doesn't have to be one of them!"

Bela giggled.  "Come on, now, aren't you supposed to be my parent?  Aren't parents supposed to be encouraging all the time?  Mother is.  You can tell me all about your foreigner travels after this, if it makes up for anything!"  She beamed down at you.  This wasn't good...

She moved in to clamp her mouth around your throat.  You weakly put up some resistance with your hands, fending off as well as you could with the pain still surging through your body.  "Hey!  Don't fight back!  I don't want to hurt you."  Bela whined and grabbed your injured arm, squeezing it tightly to make your body freeze.  It had the exact effect she was looking for—you yelled with pain, your joints went stiff, and you turned into a statue.  "Fuck, fuck," you whined. "Please, don't do this—AHH!"

Her teeth sank into your neck to bite into your skin.  It wasn't a vampire bite like you anticipated, no, she took off a small chunk of your skin.  "STOP!  STOP, STOP!"  You couldn't bring yourself to say anything more.

"Bela!  That's enough!"  Alcina yelled at her daughter, "you told me you wouldn't do anything like that!  [Y/N] is a human, and humans are fragile.  You are treading on thin ice, young lady!"

"Oh... sorry."  Bela sounded defeated.  She reluctantly pulled away from your throat, away from your body entirely, and like a puppy with its tail tucked between its legs, retreated back to her seat at the table.  You keeled over to vomit onto the floor, nearly falling into that own pool of recently-eaten food, had a maid not reached behind to pull you back into your seat.  You squeezed your eyes shut, letting out pained, hushed breaths.  Your chest rose and fell rapidly.  Your body felt as if it was doused in fire, and you were forced to stay afoot instead of dropping to your knees and rolling it out.

"Apologize to your parent right now.  You had no right to draw so much blood.  At least your sister Cassandra did it in a more controlled manner."  Alcina scolded Bela.  "Maids, if you could be as kind to get someone to bandage [Y/N]'s neck, that would be greatly appreciated."

"I'm sorry for biting you too hard."  Bela pouted. "It's not my fault that your neck looked so good—"

"Bela."

"I'm sorry!"  She blurted.  "I didn't mean to!"

It was so cruel.  The words they said made you feel... less than human... like an animal, almost.  Blood spilled out of your neck at an alarming rate, but yet, adrenaline kept you conscious.  The pain was unbearable.  If you had anything else to vomit, you likely would've been doing it right now.  "Now eat your food," she told the three underlings, "we have a big day ahead of us tomorrow!"

"Yes, Mother."

The maids soon came back with antiseptic, ironically kept on hand, to patch your wounds.  You were unable to speak, unable to look at anything, or anyone, and pain kept you from moving your limbs.  "Leave the arm wound, if you would, ladies.  And keep the first-aid kit nearby for me, thank you."  She instructed them.  Alcina stood up.  "I see that my daughters enjoy your presence here.  Just as much as I do, if not more."  She remarked while she walked over to your side of the table. "Don’t you see, [Y/N]?  You are the perfect spouse.  You make my daughters happy, you make me happy...” Alcina’s temptress voice trailed off while she thought for a moment.  She gently squeezed your limp hand as she took it into her own, licking off the blood that freshly oozed from your arm wound that Cassandra made with her sickle.  She hummed with satisfaction before grinning, showing off those blood-stained teeth of hers. "We'll have our wedding tomorrow.  I've already made all the arrangements and have picked out your outfit.  Don't disappoint me by not showing up, my love."

With that closing statement, the daughters disappeared to go up the stairs, likely to their respective rooms.  Dinner was over now, and that left only you, her, and the three maids who could stomach what was happening to you.  The other four that were in here earlier were likely going to die—those poor souls.

You tried to pick yourself up, but you couldn't.  You were nauseous and on the brink of unconsciousness. Your world faded in and out of existence with the longest periods of just having your eyes closed.  "Alcina," you rasped, "don't leave me here..."

"I would never."  Alcina remarked happily.  "Come with me, my love.  We'll go to my bedroom..." she hummed while she untucked your chair and gently lifted up your body.  You fell against her side, limp, like a ragdoll.  Spots of blood appeared on her pristine white dress, but she didn't seem to matter much.  "I will treat you myself.  We'll reminisce about the night we first met, just you and I... and we'll be a happy couple; a happy family."

"Will... will that ever happen again?"  You asked, delirious.  "You won't ever let that happen to me again, will you?"

"Of course not, my love."  She reached down and tilted your chin up to help you look at her.  You could see those glowing, yellow eyes peering down at you with a devious smile highlighting her gorgeous features.  Her oh so gorgeous features...  "Only I can do that to you now."

[davvvd]

elephant 6 vinyl I have. I need more

the apples in stereo - the discovery of a world inside the moone - velocity of sound - science faire - travellers in space and time - her wallpaper reverie - apples in stereo/breathers split major organ and the adding machine - major organ and the adding machine neutral milk hotel - nmh box set the music tapes - mary’s voice olivia tremor control - dusk at cubist castle - black foliage (2 copies, 1st edition and chunklet reissue) circulatory system - circulatory system - signal morning - ten years gone/vitamin c the gerbils - are you sleepy - the battle of electricity jeff mangum - live at jittery joe’s teletron ensemble - composition for two hemispheres the new sound of numbers - invisible magnetic

[donteatthefishtacos]

for Barneston, "Bandaging the other and then kissing the injury gently." please!!! you write them so well

Here we go! Prompt 1!

Barneston - scenario prompt - 804 words

Becky’s arm throbbed under the soaked wash cloth Tom had wrapped around it. Her unfocused gaze was trained on the green and yellow floral wallpaper in the small half-bathroom just inside the door of the house. She’d been meaning to ask Tom if they should take it down, or maybe paint over it. The whole bathroom was out of date, horribly so even, as the pale green toilet she was seated on could have demonstrated pretty clearly, and though they’d been living in the small house near the elementary school for nearly a year, they hadn’t changed anything in this particular room yet. There were more urgent projects to be had in a house that was nearly a century old, she supposed. 

She was snapped out of her reverie by Tom’s heavy footfalls bounding down the stairs just over her head and then directly behind her back as he rounded the corner. Despite the discomfort in her arm she found herself breaking into a small smile she directed up at him when he pulled the door open gently. His eyes fell on her and he worried his bottom lip between his teeth for a moment before he dropped to the floor in front of her on one knee. “Alright it took me a minute but I found the first aid kit,” he mumbled with a deprecating shake of his head. “I’ll be glad when we’re done with all the projects,” he went on with a short glance up at her before he opened the case with shaky hands. “We can have a system then and we’ll always know where everything is.”

Becky’s grin widened slightly across her face and she reached out with her free hand to run her fingers through the hair at the back of Tom’s head. “You know I’m okay, right?,” she asked quietly, her voice hardly over a whisper.

He let out a soft chuckle and looked back up at her, a brown bottle of antiseptic wash and gauze pads now in each hand. “I know,” he whispered back in answer, one corner of his mouth quirked up in a small grin. “Doesn’t mean I have to like that it happened though.”

Becky’s hand trailed up from the back of his neck to pat against his cheek a time or two. “I wouldn’t expect you to,” she told him with a small smile. “But things just happen sometimes.” Tom looked down at her arm and pulled the washcloth off to reveal a long, red, angry scrape that stretched from her wrist and nearly down to her elbow. She winced at the look of it, “Like slipping on a tree branch.”

Tom dabbed the injury with the washcloth, and held up the brown bottle. “This’ll sting a little,” he told her with a worried look. 

Becky barked out a short laugh. “Alright, Nurse Tom,” she teased softly, and a small smile peeked out on Tom’s face in response. “I’m not worried about it, I know you’ll patch me up,” she concluded in a soft voice. 

Tom nodded vehemently a time or two before he slipped the washcloth under her arm and poured the cold liquid down the length of the scrape. Despite the fact that she knew it would burn, Becky hissed at the cold sting. Tom muttered a quiet, “Sorry, Beck,” under his breath and made quick work of dabbing the wash off of her arm. As if he really were a nurse after all, he made quick work of placing the antibiotic ointment and gauze pads as evenly as he could down her arm and then wrapped it all up in the bandage roll. 

Becky couldn’t hold back a soft grin when he lifted her arm up gently by the hand to examine the dressing job. A smile he missed completely, so focused he was on examining the state of his work. After several moments, as if he could feel her eyes on him, the grayish-blue of his eyes met hers, affection showing clearly even through the worry they still held. He turned her arm palm up and then leaned forward gently to press a light-as-a-feather kiss to the bandages. 

“It’ll do, I think,” he muttered after a moment when he glanced back up at her.

Becky smiled, and leaned forward to press a kiss to his lips, and a smile spread across her face when she felt his grin pressed up against her lips. “You did good, Tom,” she whispered, and her eyes fluttered open to find his own already watching her again. 

“Thanks,” he muttered, and one rough hand came up to brush against her cheek as he pushed her hair behind her ear. “Just, next time the neighbor kid’s kite gets stuck in our tree, let me get the ladder, okay?”