#my lil web comic is finally ready to be posted!!

[human-rocket]

Guiding Light | 1.0 | [next]

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((Scene inspired by Full Moon O Sagashite vol. 3 by Arina Tanemura))

[littleoldrachel]

Fourth chapter is up! Read it here on ao3, or here on ff.net, or under the cut.

100 Ways to Say I Love You

Summary: In which actions speak louder than words, Sirius and Remus sort of fall in to a relationship, and even though neither of them have said those three all-important words, they both know it anyway.Or: 100 Ways to Say I Love You by Sirius Black and Remus Lupin.

Previous |  chapter 4/100 - “Come here, let me fix it.” | Next

Based on this post by p0ck3tf0x

Tw for anxiety like woah, terrible parenting, mentions of vomit but no actual vomit.

3. “Come here, let me fix it.”

There isn’t a single part of Sirius’ body that isn’t trembling, and he keeps forgetting to breathe – then concentrating too hard on it, then panicking and forgetting once more. He’s pale and sweating through his suit, and he knows that checking his watch every four seconds is helping nothing, but there’re only two hours to go – or one hundred and twenty-one minutes, or seven-thousand-two-hundred-and-sixty-seconds, seven-thousand-two-hundred-and-fifty-nine-seconds, seven-thousand-two-hundred-and-fifty-eight-seconds-

In approximately two hours, Sirius has the biggest job interview of his life, and he doesn’t mean to be melodramatic, but he literally doesn’t know how he’s going to survive until then (how fast does your heart have to beat before it gives out?). Which is why Remus – wonderful, supportive, kind Remus – is going to come and keep him distracted until then, because otherwise he will actually have a heart attack, and keel over right here in this bustling street, and wouldn’t that just be a tragedy?

Remus is late, which isn’t unusual for him, but with every extra second on his own, Sirius can feel himself slipping further and further towards a panic attack because fuck, why does he think he can do this?

(He can’t – his parents were right, his teachers were right, he’s not good enough, he’s never going to be good enough-)

The thing is – this interview is kind of a Big Deal. It’s not that he doesn’t like working at The Marauder Corner – he does, and he’ll be eternally grateful to Frank for supporting him. He finally feels like he knows what he’s doing now, and he hasn’t screwed up an order in three (three!) days. He’s figured out how to smile for tips, who the nicest regulars are, and he’s starting to feel safe there – he’s comfortable. But… in the meantime, he has a hard-won First Class Bachelor’s Degree in Illustration & Graphic Design going to waste, and after everything he went through with his parents to be allowed to study it, with his mental health to actually complete it, it’s driving him a little bit crazy that he’s not doing anything with it.

It’s not that he hasn’t been on the hunt for jobs; it’s more that freelance illustration is hard to get in to, it’s hard to find regular clients, it’s hard to make a decent living, and for once in his life, Sirius just wanted one thing to be easy.

But this interview could change all of that. Queerllustration is a small company, who produce web comics for both educational and entertainment purposes, and they’re currently looking for a new, full-time Graphic Designer. As the name suggests, they make art about LGBT+ people, created by LGBT+ people, for LGBT+ people, and Sirius has been in love with their work since he first stumbled across their nonbinary superhero character, Eclipse. Working for them would be the absolute dream – he just has to convince them he’s good enough.

(Which is going to be difficult, considering he can’t even convince himself).

“Hey, you,” the voice is warm and gentle, and the touch on his arm is light, but Sirius still flinches sharply, and Remus withdraws immediately. He looks breathless and tired, but he’s smiling brightly at him, even if his eyes are a little crinkled in concern.

(Six thousand, six hundred seconds to go).

“Alright?” He tries for a confident smile, burying his face in Remus’ shoulder briefly as he pulls him in for a hug, but his insides are still liquid.

“Have you eaten yet?” Remus asks, still not quite releasing him (probably for the best – Sirius’ knees have forgotten how not to shake, which is making standing a Problem), and peering inside the café.

Sirius is torn – if he says no, Remus will make him eat something, and then he might be sick – what if he vomits all over the interviewers??? – but if he says yes, he’ll be lying to Remus. The thought of lying to him, even over something so trivial, makes him feel just as nauseous as eating will. In the end though, he doesn’t have to choose, because Remus knows him well enough to mutter, “no then,” whilst steering him gently towards the door.

It’s a mark of how anxious he’s getting, that Sirius doesn’t even register Remus sitting him down at a table, queuing, ordering and paying – and Sirius notices things, his anxiety won’t let him not document every tiny detail of a situation, to the extent that it’s overwhelming and too much, but now, he’s losing entire pockets of time, and he’s terrified.

There’s a large pumpkin spice latte sitting in front of him, and moments later, a tomato and mozzarella panini slides across to join it. Remus slips in to the seat opposite with his own food, and Sirius tries to smile his thanks – his heart tugs a little at the fact that Remus knows him so well – but it comes out as more of a grimace.

He clears his throat, hand clenching the table leg to give him something to ground himself on, and mumbles, “thanks, Moony.” Remus gives him a thumbs-up, his own mouth already full with an egg salad sandwich, and Sirius seizes on this detail, this normalcy. “I thought you didn’t like the egg sandwiches here?”

Remus swallows with difficulty, and shrugs. “S’alright. There aren’t many kosher options, this is fine.” Sirius nods absently, and shifts his grip from the table leg to around his mug – it’s a little too hot to hold, but the burn helps him to concentrate. Remus tracks this movement with a frown, and then continues, “anyway, we’re not here to talk egg sandwiches. How are you doing?”

Sirius forces himself to take a sip of his latte, eyes closing briefly in pleasure at its warm sweetness. (If Remus were a drink, he’d be a pumpkin spice latte, he thinks vaguely, then catches himself and nearly chokes on his drink). “I’m – uh – okay?” he says, and Remus rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, no, try again.”

“I’m – I’m not. Uh. Okay,” Sirius whispers to his panini, and Remus’ fingers hover momentarily above Sirius’ wrist, giving him time to pull away, before gently closing around it. Sirius pulls his gaze up to meet Remus’ eyes, and kind of wants to burst in to tears at the sheer concern and care he sees there. He’s clenching his drink so tightly that his knuckles are white but his fingers are still fucking shaking.

“Would talking about it help?” Remus asks softly. “Or do you need to be distracted?”

Sirius shakes his head helplessly, “I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t- “

“Breathe, Pads,” Remus slides his hand down to Sirius’, where it’s clamped around the mug, and unpeels his fingers slowly, intertwining their fingers together. Sirius gazes at their hands for a second – he’s lost and scared and shaking, but he’s also anchored to Remus – Remus isn’t going to let him get hurt.

Sirius lets out a shaky breath, and takes another sip of his drink, swallowing down the anxiety for a moment. “Can you – I don’t – can we talk about something else for a bit?”

“Anything,” Remus squeezes his hand, then lets go, and Sirius instantly misses his warm grip. His fingers scrabble for something to fiddle with, land on his panini, and begin tearing it in to strips. Remus glances at him, but doesn’t try and stop him. “So, did you talk to Prongs and Lils after last week?”

Sirius pulls a face. “Sticking with the difficult conversations, are we?”

Remus shrugs, biting in to his sandwich. “You tell me.”

“I did, yeah.” The bread is thoroughly shredded now, and Sirius absent-mindedly begins separating the ingredients in to different piles. “He cried, I cried, everyone cried.”

Remus snorts, but not unkindly. “I think I’d be more worried if Prongs didn’t cry, to be honest.”

Sirius lets out a huff that ordinarily would have been a laugh. “It went like you said it would. He – he was really upset I ever thought they wouldn’t want me around. Said I’m – uh –“ his voice cracks a little. “More special to him than I’d ever know.” He flaps his hand a little, unable to vocalise everything the conversation had mended in him – that it had filled in cracks in his heart that he hadn’t even realised were forming. Of course, it won’t last – his anxiety will be back again soon enough, worming its way in to his weak spots. But for now, at least, he knows that James loves him unconditionally and would never want him to leave.

(It doesn’t hurt that James has doubled his number of daily reassurances, and started leaving him little post-it notes saying you’re so loved all over the place).

“I’m really glad,” says Remus, bringing him back to the present. The anxiety surges back in an unpleasant wave and he takes a breath, desperately looking for another distraction.

“I got a message from Reg on Facebook,” he blurts suddenly – then regrets it, because he’s not ready to unpack that yet at all, but nor is he ready to tackle the topic of the interview.

Remus looks momentarily bewildered at the abrupt subject change, but then raises his eyebrows curiously.

Sirius looks down at the heaps of separated food in panic, and stuffs the bread in to his mouth so that he has time to think. He swallows with difficulty, and says, “he was just checking in, I think. I haven’t read it properly. I – uh – he wanted to know that I wasn’t homeless, I think.”

“That’s… good?” says Remus cautiously.

“Yeah,” Sirius says, only it comes out with too much forced-cheerfulness, and they both wince. “I mean – I think so. Part of me, this is going to sound insane, but… what if my parents are using him to find me?” He glances at Remus’ expression, expecting to see scorn or disdain, but Remus just looks thoughtful.

“I don’t think Reg would do that to you. Maybe he never stood up to your family, but I don’t think he would actually turn on you like that.”

Sirius blinks a little, feeling a lump in his throat and a prickling behind his eyes. “Thank you for not telling me I’m being paranoid… I – thank you.”

Remus nods, still looking thoughtful, and there’s a comfortable quiet as Remus finishes off the rest of his sandwich, whilst Sirius chews through the pile of bread, and makes a start on the tomato slices.

Then –

“So,” Remus says, glancing at his wrist. “You have an hour to go.”

Sirius jolts, the panic racing back down his arms, his legs, through his fingers and toes, and paralysing him in an icy chokehold. He forces a breath in before he completely freaks out, and another, fingers clenching the table hard. Remus’ hands find his own, wrapping around them in a comforting grip. “Sorry, I – I just thought we could maybe talk about the interview? If that might help?”

“Give me a sec,” Sirius manages, and Remus immediately removes his hands, retreating apologetically. Sirius wants to scream because that’s not what he meant, but words are too hard at the moment. They sit in silence for a few minutes whilst Sirius tries to get his fucking shit together, and then Remus leans forwards again nervously.

“We don’t have to, Pads,” he says quietly. “It was just a suggestion, we can-“

“Can you – uh – “ Sirius scrubs at his face. “Can you, like, look at my portfolio? I’m not asking for like – praise – I’m not trying to be modest – I just – all I can hear is my dad screaming at me that I’m not enough and ripping up my art -and I – I just need- “

“Padfoot, I’d love to see your art. Anything you want to show me.” Remus brushes a reassuring thumb over the back of Sirius’ hand, and reaches for the portfolio leaning against his satchel.

Sirius watches Remus open the folder, but then looks away quickly, unable to watch Remus’ expression change. Objectively, he knows that it’s good – he didn’t get a first for nothing, he knows that the bold colouring, the quirky characters, the attention to detail – it’s all good, he is good. But is he good enough? And what if it’s too similar to the stuff they already do? He took inspiration from Queerllustration for his final project after all; they might decide he’s just an overenthusiastic fan with no real creative talent of his own. He tries his best to shove down the voice that sounds a lot like his father’s, and picks at the remaining tomato seeds, feeling like he’s awaiting a criminal sentence.

Remus lets out a little gasp, and Sirius can’t help but look up sharply. Remus’ expression is – a myriad of things: warmth, awe, surprise, delight – and he leans over the pages to look closer, shoving his glasses further up his nose. He’s stopped on a city scape scene – it’s London by night, the silhouette of a caped and masked figure standing clearly against the night sky, and Remus is currently tracing the tiny shimmering stars, with his mouth in a little ‘o’ shape. He glances up, catches Sirius’ eye, and shakes his head disbelievingly. “Every time I think you can’t get any better, you blow me away, Pads." He runs a finger over the tiny details of the golden streetlights, the miniscule red buses, the shadowy skyscrapers with their hundreds of minute windows, and looks back up with a beam. “This is stunning. And-“ he flips back a few pages, to a watercolour of a collection of animals. (Watercolour isn’t his strongest medium, but he was particularly proud of how these turned out – the gentler shades allowed for a dappled light effect – and besides, it was important to show he could be diverse). “I love this, it feels so… familiar in a way? It’s just so lovely, I can’t put my finger on it exactly, but I think this is one of my favourites.” He reverently presses his fingertips against where the wolf and the black dog are touching snouts, at the way the rat is scampering up the buck’s back.

(Sirius can’t quite explain what Remus’ words are doing to him. It’s almost like he’s being punched in the gut, but with a warmth and an affection so strong that it takes his breath away, something soft and fragile blooming in his chest and pressing back against the panic nestling in his lungs).

“Do you mean that?” he croaks out at last, whilst Remus continues to pore through his artwork – the costume designs, the portraits, the fight scene – with occasional exclamations of admiration.

Remus looks up, his expression earnest and kind. “Of course, Pads. I don’t – you’re so talented. I just – you’re phenomenal, and I mean – I don’t know anything about art,” he smiles a little self-deprecatingly, “but I know that Queerllustration are fools if they don’t hire you.”

Something akin to relief sparks in Sirius’ heart, and it’s not enough to quench the anxiety still resting there (nothing is ever enough), but it loosens its grip a little, it plants a brittle seed of hope there, and Sirius can smile without feeling like he’s about to shatter. He idly pops a mozzarella slice in to his mouth from the small, final heap of food, and returns Remus’ grin as best as he can.

“Thank you,” he says softly, wishing he could convey exactly how much Remus’ reassurances mean to him, how much Remus means to him. (It’s not like James and Lily and every single one of his friends haven’t offered their own reassurances, of course they have. It’s just that there’s something about Remus’ compassionate smile, his kind honesty, his general Remus-ness that makes Sirius feel like he could accomplish almost anything).

“Of course,” Remus says, giving him a look that’s so full of care and warmth that Sirius can actually feel the glow it bathes him in. He bites his lip, and then says, “can I ask – what is it that you’re most afraid of? Like, I completely understand why you’re anxious – I just – what – argh,” he flaps his hands in frustration, “I’m fucking this up.”

“You’re not,” says Sirius quickly. “I get what you’re trying to say.” Remus looks relieved, as Sirius chews on his mozzarella thoughtfully. “I think the thing is that if - if I – uh – if I fuck this interview up, I – everything my parents ever said about me is-“

“Still all filthy, awful lies,” says Remus fiercely. “Nothing they have ever said about you is true, none of it, Padfoot, I swear it.”

The protectiveness causes the little seed of hope in his chest to swell, and he finds himself blinking back tears again. (Remus is a better friend than he deserves – better than anyone deserves).

“Did you talk to your therapist?” Remus says, more gently.

Sirius looks down, feeling the guilt drop in to his stomach like a stone.

“Hey, no, it’s okay if you didn’t. I was just asking.”

“Please don’t hate me,” Sirius begins.

“Never,” says Remus vehemently.

“- I, uh, I maybe haven’t been to therapy in three weeks?” He’s too ashamed to meet Remus’ eyes – whilst he hasn’t lied directly to any of them, he’s been feeling awful about this ever since the first time he got to the office and couldn’t face walking through the door. He’s been longing to tell someone honestly – but they’ve slowly stopped asking and checking up on his sessions, trusting him enough to be a fucking adult and get the help he needs. But they didn’t ask, and he didn’t tell, and it went on and on, and every time he missed it, he got more and more anxious about going back-

“I don’t – what happened?” Remus doesn’t sound angry, or shocked, or annoyed. Just concerned and a little confused, and it’s the care that gives Sirius the courage to look up at him again.

He shrugs, “the sessions were kind of helpful… but I got so nervous about going, and then one week, I just couldn’t go. And then it sort of… spiralled?”

Remus’ face is kind and understanding. “I get it,” he clears his throat. “I did a similar thing a couple years back. Things were fine until bam, suddenly they weren’t, and I just went straight back home to bed without going to my appointment, and I couldn’t bring myself to get out again.”

(Remus gets it. He actually gets it – and as much as Sirius loathes the idea of Remus suffering in any kind of way – physically, mentally, emotionally, whatever – the fact that he gets it and he understands makes Sirius feel less alone, less ashamed, less like a fuckup).

“What did you do?” Sirius asks, because he vaguely remembers this, but Remus used to struggle far more frequently than he does now, and he knows that as a group, they handled some of them better than others.

“Some pretty great friends told me that I didn’t have to stick with that therapist if it wasn’t the right fit. That there were other options. That they would still love and support me, no matter what.” His voice wobbles a little, but he looks determined. “The point is, the same applies here. You can try someone else if you like. Or look in to other treatments – maybe your meds need adjusting? But whatever happens, we all love and support you, and – uh – I’m sorry you didn’t feel like you could tell us before.”

“It wasn’t that,” says Sirius hastily, “it was more that I was just embarrassed I couldn’t function like an adult. Like – you all have real jobs, and you all manage everything, and have your shit together, and I’m just a hot mess-“

“I promise you, we don’t have our shit together,” says Remus. “Yesterday I cried because I couldn’t pick which pair of socks to wear. Alice rang me to tell me she ate an entire box of Coco Pops in one sitting and was freaking out in case they weren’t halal. Wormtail has reapplied for uni four separate times. None of us have our shit together, if that helps.”

Sirius grins in spite of himself because fuck he adores his ridiculous, crazy, wonderful friends. Remus continues, “we could have been better though. So I’m sorry, and we’re all here for you for whatever you need.”

“Ditto,” Sirius says softly, nudging Remus’ ankle with his own, and Remus’ gaze drops, his shoulders tensing. Sirius frowns, “you know that, right?”

Remus doesn’t meet Sirius’ eyes as he says, “yeah sure,” and then gets up to return their plates to the counter. Sirius frowns after him, making a mental note to actually have an honest conversation with Remus about his mental health, but then checks his watch and blanches because he has twelve-hundred-seconds, eleven-hundred-and-ninety-nine-seconds-

“Come on,” Remus is back, and pulling him to his feet, and Sirius goes in a sort of daze. He does feel better than he did before; he’s not losing pockets of time anymore, and the food sitting in his stomach is a weight that keeps him somewhat grounded – though not as much as Remus’ hand around his wrist.

It’s slightly better when they get outside – the light breeze coupled with Remus’ nattering soothes his frayed nerves a little, and he takes a few deep breaths, fragile but not shattering, the hope in his heart holding him together. The short walk goes by too fast, and before he knows what’s happening, the two of them are standing outside a building covered in rainbow art.

“Go get ‘em, tiger,” says Remus, pulling him in for one final hug, allowing Sirius to cling a little longer than usual. “You’ve got this, we love you, you’re amazing.”

Sirius nods. “I’m amazing,” he repeats, and Remus bursts in to laughter.

“Damn straight you are!”

“Take that back! There’s nothing straight about me!” Sirius says, in mock-affront.

“I apologise,” says Remus solemnly, and Sirius beams back – his head is spinning with how much he adores this man; there are very few people in the world who can momentarily make him forget his troubles like that, who can build him up with compliments and smiles, but Remus is one of them.

“I’ll call you later?” he says, making to walk in through the door.

“Wait,” Remus calls, and Sirius turns back to him. “Come here, let me fix it.” He gestures at Sirius’ tie, and Sirius flushes, but allows Remus to retie it, straighten the knot, and tuck it back in to his jacket. “Very handsome,” he says with a cheeky, dimpled grin, and Sirius sort of melts. “And you’d better call.”

“I will,” Sirius promises, and then strides in to the building, before the anxiety can do so much as hiss that he’s going to let them all down.

Three hours later, Sirius is on the evening shift at the Marauder Corner, when he gets a call from an unknown number. He smiles apologetically at Frank, who rolls his eyes but lets him slip in to the kitchens, and he answers breathlessly.

(The conversation that ensues is brief but it’s enough – it’s more than enough – it’s everything).

The job is his.

(He did it, he actually did it, fuck his parents, fuck his teachers, he is amazing).

He manages to splutter his acceptance, his gratitude and hangs up, then cries so hard he almost makes himself sick, and rings Remus, who sounds all sorts of choked-up-proud-love-care-happiness. When he finally gets home, having spent the rest of his shift in an overjoyed daze, making clumsy mistakes and spilling sugar and coffee grains everywhere, it’s to a surprise party, and he is overwhelmed with happiness and love and warmth.

James shouts out a quick warning before he tackles him to the ground in a hug. Alice, queen of baking forever and ever, has made him a gorgeous rainbow cake, topped with smarties. Peter gives him a flower crown, which Kingsley steals halfway through the night (“because I look so good in daisies, I should just wear them always”) and - 

Remus waits until the excitable chaos has calmed down a little before approaching Sirius. “Hey, you,” he says, dropping in to the just-vacated seat next to Sirius. James has his head in Sirius’ lap, but he shuffles along, plopping in to Peter’s instead, and starting a sign conversation, complimenting Peter’s new violet hair.

“Hey, Moonbeam,” Sirius smiles back at him, leaning his head against Remus’ shoulder. Remus allows him to tuck himself against his side, slipping an arm around him.

“I know I said this before, but I’m so bloody proud of you, Pads,” he says softly, and they’re both watching Frank and Lily dancing, but it’s somehow just as intense as if they were holding each other’s gaze.

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” Sirius murmurs back, finding Remus’ hand, and squeezing it. Remus doesn’t move for a second, and then, very slowly and deliberately, he raises their intertwined hands to his lips, and presses a gentle kiss against their fingers.

Sirius doesn’t breathe, doesn’t blink, doesn’t move – doesn’t want anything to break this spell, because they are on the verge of something, something is about to change between them –

But then there’s a smashing sound, and Kingsley is staring, wide-eyed, at the floor, looking guiltily at where he’s dropped a mug, which is now in pieces.

And the moment is lost.

Remus extricates his hand, and stands up without looking at Sirius. He walks over to James, who’s fretting a little trying to make sure nobody gets shards of china in their feet, and makes his excuses, claiming a stomach-ache and tiredness.

And Sirius just –

Watches him go.

[ushealthcare4u-com-blog]

Grammy Award-triumphing manufacturer Andrew Watt, who has labored with Cardi B, Post Malone, Future and different tune artists, has shriveled Covid-19, in any other case known as the coronavirus.

USHealthCare4u.com

Monday, 23 March 2020

tests positive coronavirus ushealthcare4u.com andrew watt

Grammy Award-triumphing manufacturer Andrew Watt, who has labored with Cardi B, Post Malone, Future and different tune artists, has shriveled Covid-19, in any other case known as the coronavirus.

On Tuesday (March 17), the hitmaker went on his Instagram web page to share his health crisis. In his alarming story, Watt specific his adventure of what he experienced prior to finding out he had the coronavirus.

“12 days ago, early morning of March 6, I started out feeling like I become hit through a bus. I couldn’t pass out of my mattress for days and commenced to run a fever,” he wrote. “I became seen by using a doctor at my house who instructed

ushealthcare4u.com

me I am advantageous for the regular flu and there’s no way I should have Covid-19 as I haven’t left the us of a and all I do is go to the studio and pass straight home.”

Watt goes on to write that his fever didn’t forestall and he commenced having dry coughs. He changed into rushed to the medical institution and when he arrived, he begged to be examined for Covid-19 but changed into turned down due  to federal policies. Watt became eventually tested by using a non-public doctor and the effects came lower back high-quality for the coronavirus.

“Currently...My fevers are becoming an awful lot a great deal better and I actually have all started to have fairly of an appetite again however it's far very difficult for me to respire due to this pneumonia,” he wrote. “I am 29 years antique. I am a wholesome young guy and I am going to get through it no matter what. I am going to make a complete restoration.”

In the stop, Watt needs his followers to recognize that the coronavirus isn't a joke and those have to take it significantly. He encouraged his lovers to engage in social distancing to protect others from contracting the potentially deadly virus.

“I can’t stress this enough...This isn't a comic story,” he delivered. “Stay internal, stay sanitized. Please forestall the whole lot and take care of yourselves and the humans you like around you, until we're throughout this.”

"Social distancing is to defend someone's dad and mom, a person's grandmother," he brought. "It's no longer approximately you. It's approximately anyone together preventing this as a team."

Watt has a prolonged list of production credit that include Cardi B's "Thru Your Phone," Post Malone's "Die for Me" and Future and Juice Wrld's "Hard Work Pays Off" from their duet challenge Wrld on Drugs.

Read Andrew Watt's Instagram post beneath.

See 17 Rappers Who Haven't Put an Album Out in a While That We'd Like to Hear From

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Lil Dicky

Last album: Professional Rapper (2015)

Lil Dicky had a large buzz after liberating his debut album, Professional Rapper in 2015. He observed that up with the aid of being inducted into the 2016 XXL Freshman class and then launched the hit single “Freaky Friday” presenting Chris Brown in 2018. The international continues to be ready on his sophomore album, which has played the historical past while he’s been running on his new television show, which premieres in March. With the TV series finished, Dicky heads must be getting new tune soon. In January, the rapper found out he's running on the LP now. "The precise information is, I’ve made a ton of wonderful tune over these years," he wrote in an Instagram post. "Boy oh boy have I evolved and blossomed!! You will listen it and love it and be pleased with me, and much less irritated with me. But I gotta finish it after which roll it out proper. You most effective get such a lot of cracks at doing what I’m approximately to do."

Ian Gavan, Getty Images

Lauryn Hill

Last album: The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill (1998)

Lauryn Hill certainly dropped one of the best albums of the Nineties after which stated, one is sufficient. A whole -plus many years have passed, and L Boogie seems content material visiting with the antique stuff and not giving into fanatics’ whims for brand spanking new material. That doesn’t imply we aren’t still inquiring for it. Last 12 months, she placed out her first solo single in 5 years. Her track, “Guarding the Gates," regarded on Queen & Slim: The Soundtrack. So, maybe, simply perhaps there’s hope.

Theo Wargo, Getty Images

Jadakiss

Last album: Top five Dead or Alive (2015)

AHAAA! Jadakiss is a pinnacle-shelf lyricist. So, it’s a shame he's handiest dropped 4 solo albums in his 20-plus yr career. 2017’s Friday on Elm Street collab with Fabolous become the closest factor the Lox member got to a solo LP seeing that 2015’s Top 5 Dead or Alive. The "So Raspy" rapper signed a address Roc Nation in 2018, and as of press time, we're nevertheless waiting on an statement about his debut on the residence that Hov constructed.

Paras Griffin, Getty Images

Fetty Wap

Last album: Fetty Wap (2015)

Fetty Wap hit the ground jogging with the 2014 single “Trap Queen” and struck while the iron became warm by freeing his debut album the following year. The former XXL Freshman has stayed heavy at the mixtape scene but has failed to comply with up with a sophomore studio album in the years on account that because of rumored label issues. Half a decade after his debut, Fetty subsequently plans to drop his 2nd album King Zoo this spring.

Matt Winkelmeyer, Getty Images

Pharrell

Last album: GIRL (2014)

Pharrell is an authorized hitmaker and the arena needs extra of his hits. With handiest two solo albums to his call, his most recent GIRL LP produced the mega spoil “Happy” and the world is higher for it. Chad of The Neptunes currently revealed he and Skateboard P had been inside the lab with a number of artists and plan to ramp up production this 12 months. Hopefully meaning a new Pharrell album is also inside the works as nicely.

Theo Wargo, Getty Images

DMX

Last album: Redemption of the Beast (2015)

For years, DMX has been dealing with troubles that are deeper than rap. He went from dropping 5 albums in 5 years to a few inside the remaining 17. It’s difficult to don't forget his final album, Redemption of the Beast, official because it became reportedly released without his consent. Last fall, he reunited with Def Jam, inking a brand new cope with the report business enterprise that was his first label domestic. It’d be dope to peer X upward thrust like a grand champion yet again following a stint in rehab.

Imeh Akpanudosen, Getty Images

Waka Flocka Flame

Last album: Triple F Life: Fan, Friends & Family (2012)

It’s tough to accept as true with it’s been 8 years when you consider that Waka Flocka Flame remaining placed out an album however nearly 1/2 a decade has surpassed when you consider that his sophomore LP, Triple F Life: Fan, Friends & Family, dropped. Big Homie Waka has stored his name popping via the mixtape circuit however the lengthy-awaited Flockavelli 2 album has been shelved over and over. Waka currently confirmed 2020 is the year he ultimately releases his third LP, which he claims will be his very last album.

Frazer Harrison, Getty Images

Redman

Last album: Mudface (2015)

Eminem’s preferred MC still gets busy. It’s been 5 years considering that Redman launched Mudface and even longer because he’s been teasing Muddy Waters 2 (later renamed Muddy Waters, Too, the sequel to his magnum opus. He currently positioned out a preview with the EP 3 Joints, which with a bit of luck manner MWT will follow rapidly afterward.

Mike Stobe, Getty Images

LL Cool J

Last album: Authentic (2013)

Todd Smith is one of the great to ever do it. Period. At 13 albums in, seven years have passed seeing that LL Cool J's last imparting, Authentic. He announced G.O.A.T. 2 in 2014 earlier than putting it on hold pronouncing, "It changed into right but I didn’t sense love it changed into equipped but." He dabbled with retirement a couple years later, however Uncle L can’t leave rap on my own, the sport needs him. Recently, there have been talks that a new album is coming together with Fat Joe serving as govt manufacturer.

Tabatha Fireman, Getty Images

Q-Tip

Last album: Kamaal the Abstract (2009)

Q-Tip introduced his impending album, The Last Zulu, returned in 2012, rapidly after he signed with Kanye West’s G.O.O.D. Music label. Since then fans have had to loosen up themselves in terms of anticipation for the brand new task, which has been sitting on the shelf whilst the A Tribe Called Quest frontman makes a speciality of different ventures. The promised launch has no longer been forgotten. The final Last Zulu update came in the summer season of 2018 whilst we had been given the normal “coming quickly” forewarning. We hope earlier than later at this point.

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[toddmichaelrogers]

Letter to You

Time continues to march toward nothing. I pass along with it, happy to see currents ripple and shift until I find my reflection marked by tell-tale signs of fear and what some expressionists (scientist who study faces) might call “pretty gay”--but I myself learned to accept as “mostly straight, don’t mind seeing a dick though” a long while ago.

(READ MORE)

The world is falling into the sort of post apocalyptic chaos our stories have been worried & also warning us about for several ages. I’m pretty excited for the 80s again (who knew far right fear tactics, dance music, cocaine and a cold war would ever come back in style?) If you’re reading this as a printout in some sort of home-fashioned bunker, the year is 2017, the American President is a reality star billionaire who was elected by people (both good and bad) in an effort to clear out the politicians in the country’s capital. 

One dear friend of mine referred to it as “burning down the house” which is all well and good, unless of course there are people living in that house you have attempted to burn down. 

We are three weeks into an uncertain world, run by a puppet of far worse men, a puppet who is obviously, quite clinically insane. I actually worried about typing that for an instant, here, in the “land of free speech”. That’s how bad it is. The people surrounding him are open racists / enemies of the LGBTQ community, and misinformed religious fear mongers. This week airports across the country were shut down by protesters after refugees and travelers from several foreign countries were banned from entering. I saw a picture of Muslim people praying in an airport while an American crowd cheered them on and it nearly moved me to tears. (And I eat a lot of salt, so if I cry it burns and I fuckin’ feel it). I will not leave this country. So what am I to do? Should I write politicians? Call them? Does this matter at all, or has it ever? I have lists of resources on Tumblr, saved between gifs of cartoons and porn searches. What am I to do? Also what gets the best results? “NSFW” or “Boobs very humungo gifs”?

I don’t know what to do. But I am grateful for the art and politicians this horrible world is about to create.

EFFORTS the band I am in was asked to play a show. This is nice as no one has heard our music. We have declined any other opportunities to perform, but a few weeks into this political fuckquake was the right time to ask, I guess. So tomorrow we have band practice, and then we’ll be playing our first show ever, later this month. I definitely want to puke but in like, a good way. Like prom nerves. Prom puking.Like a  Prom-Puke-Posal

We’ve been recording our first album since November 2015. Back then it was just me and Zach. Then a guy named Geoffrey heard our demos and asked to play bass for us. No one else was asking, so we eventually said yes. Nearly a year later Zach and I tracked most of the album (there are maybe 5 songs still missing) and Geoffrey had sent us his bass demos for each. It was October 2016 and the album has been taking so long that I started pulling demos together for some other sort of release. I was going to call it DAMNSEL & THE EUTH GROUP and Geoffrey said he would produce it, but a few songs in it became obvious we were just making another EFFORTS album and now Zach is involved as well.

xxxxx

New future efforts stuff @thisisgeoffrey and I fucked with last night.

A video posted by Todd Michael Rogers (@d_a_m_n_s_e_l) on Jan 3, 2017 at 12:40pm PST

xxxxxx

The plan is to finish our first LP (I Bought You A Coffin) and then either license it to a record label, preferably in the UK (Plan A) or just do it the fuck ourselves (Plan B). Then when that’s all said and done we’ll have the next bit of music ready, which will be released as two EPs (2.1 Sorry Everyone Disappoints You) and EP2 which I have a name for but it’s not official or anything (2.2 Mean Songs to Hurt People). After we release the 2 EPs-- each holding 6 songs--we’ll smash them together for our second album (2.final form May The Eyes That Rise Upon You Never Know (Your True Heart). I even have album covers for all three but I ain’t showin’ em here yet. So far the first EP is missing 1 and a half songs, and the second is all in demo pieces.

A lot of these plans seem fanciful at best but it’s sort of how I always work on things, ‘shoot for the stars and hope you don’t put a bullet in your own boot’.  A lot of it came about one night when Zach and I stayed up drinking as we concocted a five year plan, should anyone ever ask us if we had one.

But it all start now, with finishing this album, making our facebook page (LINK), playing our first few shows, and releasing our first single (May You Absorb all Evil) But look, we even have a cover for it, granted to us by the artist Liam Barrett. We’ll release this baby sometime this Summer, along with a music video I have been meticulously planning for over a year.

*

I miss writing the novel. It’s been over a month since I touched it, but printing out my progress from the start of 2016 to the end was amazing.

I think the time away from it will be good, the fear, the worry, the feworry is leaving it for too long, allowing it to get lost in the current of the sea (see opening paragraph, this blog).

My plan is to look at what I’ve done (dangerous) do a quick edit job upon it (also dangerous, but hopeful/most/ly this is just a grammar bombing), and then see where the first 200 pages are at. I hope I’m doing the right thing, the bow of the ship needs to be set through some very particular territory, and even I know I’m telling a strange story in a weird way. I could smashed to bits upon the rocks of those who would never publish it.

But I miss it.

*

WHYLC is a comic book I started writing 10 years ago next month (Jesus Fucking Christ) and which I eventually self published online after taking it upon these keep-it-100 hands to illustrate. Issue 2 will take even more time, but for those of you who read it, the work shall continue. I reallllly like making comics and it was sort of the first thing I ever wanted to do writing wise. 

PS Issue 1 can always be found right here (LINK)

*

Spell Saga could destroy anyone, at any given time, if they saw the scope and horror of the project, stretching like ley lines backwards & forwards, away from my heart. I’ve spent the better half of a year working days and nights to pay for both a) my cool ideas and b) my dumb mistakes. This has resulted in many more cards being printed than initially anticipated, and most of my ‘money bucks’ being sent out as packages of said cards to patient wonderful truly unbelievable fans across the globe. 

(Meagen Crawford took dis pic)

Do you know how long it takes to package something? Or even double check and print the correct address? Let alone figure out a packaging solution after the US Postal Service gave you the WRONG information? It’s been a fucking nightmare--but a super neat problem to have. I can panic and smile, I do both all the time.

The next step of the process is sort of manifold:

First I have to finish sending packages to places like the UK, Singapore & Brazil. Then I have to wire the final amount to the manufacturer which was delayed by all the changes we made during initial production. THEN I have to finish re-designing DECK 2 (it’s just a new Photoshop HD makeover, no rules changes). THEN I have to get the packaging for deck 2 finalized (make sure everything is the right size, get UPC code etc.) THEN I have to wire the manufacturer to print this deck and ship everything out together from Hong Kong to any US coast and down to me in lil ole Tennessee.

Then I get my shit together. Spell Saga has been bruised and hidden away while the manufacturing continued. Having Decks 0, 1, and 2 printed and at my fucking door (taking up most of my living room) will give me the privilege and honor of sending everyone another deck for free (thanks for waiting) along with sending out marketing packages to game reviewers across the Earth. It will coincide with the continued but stalled development of the Spell Saga library (a web page of game resources formerly known as the wikiFAQ).

Getting the game back up to good standing is a very real priority for this lonely designer. When I have all that cooking at the right degree I can finally finish the main game by Designing DECK 3 and the Ending with Cousin Lauren. (Then I’ll have to pay for that one to get printed too. That’s 10 grand. Right there.)

PS Cousin Lauren has a page for her art now. Check it out (LINK)

In the INTERIM. The Meantime. IN the age of Meanness: I’ve been designing a new SPell Saga deck, called 1.5 The Under Sky. It’s a sort of bridge between decks 1 and 2, that also acts like a warp into deck 3 if it’s played right. The Look, Feel, Story, and emotional journey of this Deck matches the others--it’s still the story of The Last Minstrel--but while decks 1,2, and 3 were created with the emotions of a bad marriage and a young man afraid of what his life might have become, this DECK is sort of based on how it’s felt to publish the game and everything that’s happened to me in my own journey. Making things is hard. It’s so hard. It’s super terrible and impossible. But getting to the end is the whole point of a journey, and this deck celebrate that.

In The Under Sky, you play as The Last Minstrel, but you’ve sort of lost your way to The Forest, as well as your friends. It’s the idea of knowing exactly what you want, until a sort of early 20s suburban existentialism hits like a storm to blow you so off course you aren’t even sure who you are anymore, much less where you’re going. During the game you’ll explore the insides of living keeps called Castle Crashers, making friends with mirages and using a creature called the dark pixie to pull magical items out of ordinary places. There’s also a river of blood that’s spilling out from a talking disembodied head of a fallen god. It’s pretty cool.

If I’m nervous about anything it’s that the mechanics are advanced to say the least. It’s still the same old Spell Saga but there’s new ideas there too. Like, imagine five cards that are in a circle. The hero token (representing your character) can move left or right on the circle visiting each card (each representing a different place to visit) if you’ve played Spell Saga before, the idea should seem familiar, it’s the main and most basic mechanic of the game. But now, imagine each card in the circle is a stack 5 cards deep, and when you move from one stack to the next the cards in each stack are shuffled, the order they rest in dependant upon how you enter or leave the stack with your token. That’s some scary shit to try and “make a rulebook out of” but I think it’s going to work. I want every Spell Saga deck to kind of have it’s own vibe going on, each playing off the mechanics you may have learned in the previous deck.

There’s other Spell Saga news too:

If anyone is reading this Realmwalker ~ Science//Armor//Romance will be republished with typographical errors removed and a new box sometime near March. This was a game I released a year ago (Judas Iscariot Priest!) on The Gamecrafter, and then removed until i had time to fix it.

The next Realmwalker ~ The Discordant Shore is half designed and really a very exciting game. I think it should be done by June, and that one will also be on The Gamecrafter. The Reason this one took so long is half the cards are also copies of special handmade cards I’ll be sending out to people who spent dat ca$h on the Kickstarter, y’know, back in 2014 (Satan’s Red Mouth!).

Are you still here? Are you still reading this?

French Toast Gaming Co.’s next game, something I first worked on twenty years ago, and then spent the better part of a decade worrying about is about to be released this year. EPIOCH was supposed to come out last August, but many delays pushed it away. Now my good friend Weshoyot has nearly finished the art, and all the game needs is more playtesting and a rulebook before it pops up on The Gamecrafter. Here’s an art peek, and you should check out her instagram. (LINK).

That’s everything I needed to type out to stay sane. Thanks for following along all three of you. I appreciate it. There’s been other things too of course, lost jobs, another concussion, dreams where I tell my secrets to people who look disappointed. But you don’t need to know any of that. Not really. It will all come out in the artwork anyway.

OR THE patron page PODCAST, I GUESS.

-mE.