#especially if there's a weird swoopy bit

[dinosaurcharcuterie]

My wife and I take turns living the One Who Is Good With Tools stereotype.

Yesterday was my turn when I grabbed four clamps at the hardware store while she questioned when on earth were we going to need SO MANY clamps. (We ended up needing precisely four clamps for the repair we were buying the clamps for.)

Last Monday was her turn when she packed up both the cordless drill, making sure it was charged, and the Ikea toolbox, just in case, to pick up our free new desk table. (We ended up needing the screwdriver.)

[omniswords]

Chronicles of a Parisian Dumbass 12

happy Chronicles update! I know I waited a while to post this one, but I feel like I’m in a good place to share it now. so, I hope you like it! it’s... an interesting one.

from: itsdjbubbles 29 July, 19:30. La Tortue. you and your group got a setlist?

to: itsdjbubbles i… could have a setlist. and we’re more of a band than a group.

from: itsdjbubbles hell yeah, dude. you’re in.

–––

just saw adrien agreste in person. In Person. i don’t think i can even afford his aura. or, like. the CO2 he’s breathing out?

no, i’m not going to say where. i’m not a total dickwad. just sometimes. mostly because my sister would come for me if i didn’t say so.

also, fellow parisians, who hopefully are not or have not been as much of a dumbass as me: watch this space for an announcement, maybe.

Adrien Agreste is right. There. In all his swoopy-blond-hair, thousand-euro-smile, million-euro-clothing glory. Hanging by the doorway, and seeing him standing at the register like an actual human being, and laughing like an actual human being, and paying with a debit card like an actual human being, is like looking into the goddamn sun. Or like standing in the weird static, plasma dimension that exists between the TV screen and real life. Or both.

Okay. Luka will admit that, for a time that now feels both distant and delirious, he… probably entertained a celebrity crush on Adrien Agreste. But it was short-lived, and it felt more like a warm fuzz in his stomach whenever he passed by those radiant advertisements for perfume, men’s clothing, even underwear. Really, the more he thought about it, the more he was just admitting that Adrien Agreste had a certain charm and attraction because he, like many people in Paris, had a functional pair of eyes.

It was… fantasy, really. Self-indulgent. The way most infatuation tends to be. Observation with a cause; he heard it once in a song.

Adrien Agreste is still standing right. There. At the register. And Luka hasn’t moved from the entrance. Not even when the door hits him unceremoniously in the back and the bell above it mocks him as it announces his arrival.

And then Adrien Agreste turns on his heel, slipping his wallet into his back pocket with one seemingly perfect hand and gripping a pastry box with the other, and Luka’s body reminds him to step aside. He does, still dumbstruck despite how Adrien Agreste literally smiles at him and says good morning, and the door closes behind him again, and not for the first time in his life, Luka forgets what words are or how to string them together.

When he comes to his senses and makes peace with the fact that he just shared the same breathing air as a real-live supermodel, he notices—even from this far away—that Marinette is wearing that expression again. The one from the park. The one he wishes never existed—because even if this is another observation with a cause, he at least has the good sense to know that Marinette Dupain-Cheng does not deserve to look so sad, no matter how many smiles she layers on top of it.

Until now, it seems like Marinette’s only been looking past him, but when her eyes finally settle on him, she perks up a bit from her place at the register. “You dyed your hair,” she says by way of greeting, and he swears her face starts to glow. Or maybe it always was glowing. Maybe it wasn’t because of him.

“Uh,” he replies, because when has he ever been smooth when she’ s looking at him like that? or at all? “Technically, Jules did.” He says it hurriedly, so neither of them has to worry about it or talk about it, but then she has to go and tell him that it looks good on him, and his words have to get stuck on his tongue again when he says, “Thanks, I grew it myself.”

Kill him. Now. He’s ready. Juleka can have his guitar.

“So,” he goes on, a little perkier than he means to, but it’s probably for the best. “That was, uh… that Adrien Agreste guy, huh? You know him or something?”

Marinette’s expression is almost unreadable. It is hard to tell if she regrets knowing Adrien, or if she thinks Luka must be living under a rock because everyone knows who Adrien Agreste is. She snaps back to herself soon enough, and she’s browsing the pastry cases as though it’s her responsibility to find something good for him. “We used to go to middle school together,” she explains. “Just for a while. I even used to have this mondo crush on him. Can you imagine?”

“Yeah,” Luka says, because he can’t count how many times he’s imagined her in love, much less how many times he’s imagined other people in love with her. “Huh. I pegged him as the type to get homeschooled or something.” He tosses a glance behind him, just to see if the limo is still there, but it’s long since peeled away. “What… happened?”

“What do you mean?”

“You…” He pauses. “You said, ‘used to?’”

“Oh,” she says, half-flippant, with a sheepish laugh to match. “Y’know.”

Luka narrows his eyes. “No, I don’t,” he says. “That’s… why I asked?” Even though he maybe, definitely shouldn’t have because it maybe, definitely isn’t his business.

Marinette shrugs, busies herself with boxing up a selection. He doesn’t even have to ask. (Is it good that he doesn’t have to ask?) “I switched schools. That’s all. Turns out absence doesn’t really make the heart grow fonder after all.”

It doesn’t sound like that’s all, especially if the bittersweet look on her face has anything to say about it, but who is he to push? Who is he to do anything but peek into her life and feel grateful, privileged, for what she’s allowed him?

“Anyway,” she goes on; it’s mesmerizing, watching her multitask. The grace with which she can open herself up, so clipped, while taping a box shut. “Our friend is making this music video for a summer class he’s taking. He’s really into film, you know? And we’re playing opposite each other in it. I guess he wanted to come by and chat about it, but I think he had something else in mind.”

Luka’s brow furrows.

When Marinette turns, box in hand, her lips scrunch up awkwardly. Like she’s the one who doesn’t know what to say this time. “Now he’s the one who…”

Oh. Well. Fuck.

“I turned him down,” she adds with a shrug. “In high school. And we’re still… sort of friends. We text and stuff, have a couple of mutual friends. I just get the sense those feelings—his, I mean—never really went away. There’s just… something I can’t shake. Do you know what I mean?”

Does he know what she means? Does he feel? He nods, dumbly, and maybe this moment separated by a counter and a cash register isn’t supposed to be as deep and twisted and thorny as it is. But it is, and it feels that way because he feels, and he wonders if she feels it, too. If there are parts of her that never went away, either.

“Sorry,” Marinette blurts out once the moment ends—too soon, as far as he’s concerned. “You didn’t ask to hear all that.”

“I don’t mind.” Luka offers her a smile because it’s the best thing he has on him. “Life stories, remember?”

She smiles back. It’s slow, and knowing, and it makes him melt in his shoes. “Are you gonna make a song about it, Music Man?”

Okay. Okay. Wow.

Maybe it was worth staying alive for literally this one moment.

“I could write a song about it,” he says; it’s a miracle he doesn’t stammer. “Would you come and listen to it?”

“In the park?”

“At a gig.”

Marinette looks surprised, and then impressed, and damn if he doesn’t want to keep doing things that make her make that face. “Maybe I will,” she says, almost demure, like he asked her on a date or something. (Did he? Ask her on a date?) She looks just past him, and when he follows her gaze it lands on a bulletin board by the door. “Maybe you should swing by with a flyer or something.”

“Maybe I will.” Wow, two for two. He takes the box, reaches for his wallet. “I’ll watch that video, too, we’ll call it even—”

Her hand is on his before he can even pull out his card. And it isn’t until after she’s pushed his wallet back toward him that it finally registers that she’s touched him. “Don’t worry about it,” she says. “It’s on the house. Just bring the flyer, and then we’ll call it even.”

Luka looks between her and the box a number of times, too many questions on his tongue to get any of them out. Why is she being so nice to him? why does she insist on giving him things he hasn’t worked for, or finding loopholes to prove that he did work for it? Is she flirting with him? Or does she pity him? Or is she just being nice because he’s one of her parents’ regulars? Or does she… does she, maybe…

He holds his breath, and searches her eyes, and gets lost in the music he’s still sort of trying to place. He slips his wallet into his back pocket all the same, and he takes the box from her, and it’s ridiculous how fiercely he wishes he could feel her fingers brush the back of his hand again. “You got a deal,” he murmurs—mentally kicks himself for sounding so out of touch. He backs out of the store like it’s illegal to tear his eyes away; it feels like it is, when she’s smiling at him like that. The Not For Customers smile.

Admittedly, he wonders if she ever gave Adrien Agreste that smile, once upon a time.

Maybe he shouldn’t have wondered, because his back bumps right into the door, and the bell above it jingles as though it’s annoyed. But Marinette isn’t; in fact, she giggles behind a hand, and she gives him a little wave like she’s going to keep the memory safe in the pocket of her apron. He manages a weak laugh, and a wave of his own, and then he’s stumbling out the door and walking his bike to the first open bench he can find. He needs to sit down. Put his head in his hands for a while.

Because he thinks she just flirted with him. And he thinks he flirted right back. And he knows she just touched him, in spite of everything she told him about Adrien, in spite of him being right. There. And it’s all finally, finally sinking in, and the world is spinning in a way he’s not really used to, and…

Maybe he just needs a sugar boost.

Shaking his head and sighing, he pops the seal on the pastry box, fully prepared to find a half dozen napoleons inside. There aren’t—only two pastries.

One napoleon.

And one pear tart.

His heart stutters. Makes up for how he didn’t before.

That’s how it gets him.

hey mom? mr. president? deity of indeterminate gender?

how do i go about legally changing my name to Music Man?

you know. hypothetically.

[universalcataclysm]

Once Upon A Time.

With - Ty Lodgston. (@nxclearwinterxx​​) Where - The Myer’s Yacht; Murphy’s Fairytale Fling Party. When - Seven months before the end. 

The evening air was balmy enough that Iza was almost regretting his choice in costume, especially now that he had a few drinks in him; Well. Drinks amongst other substances. There was the coke. And that delivery guy he’d swallowed down in the bathroom half an hour ago, the douchebag who had ruined his makeup and hadn’t even returned the favor. Honestly, Iza should have shoved him overboard.

But it was fine. The night was young and so was he. He’d fixed his makeup and it looked better the second time around than it had the first, and his outfit, despite being warmer than the short shorts and tank/polo/crop- top combo he usually defaulted to during the hotter months, was to die for. A silky baby blue swavorski studded number that even Iza’d had to question if it verged on being too gaudy, thigh- high silver boots, a lacy white capelet that perfectly matched the lacy underbust corset around his waist and his white bowtie and mask, because of course he had to play up the mystery aspect of his chosen fairytale. And then there was the ribbon, also baby blue silk and tied in a bow around his pristine blonde bun, a tiny glass slipper charm pinned right in the middle of the bow.

Over the top? Maybe. But that was just who he was, and he wouldn’t feel shame over it. Besides, yeah, he looked good.

And he was feeling good as his dearest friend’s party started coming to life. First came the earlybirds, those they knew well enough to feel comfortable to swing in for a little pregaming; a few people who Iza hated, most who he was neutral towards, one or two he sort of liked. His phone buzzed in his pocket. A text from his boyfriend, an apology for how he wouldn’t be making it tonight; Iza sent a series of sad emojis and rolled his eyes. Fucker was always complaining about pre- med homework, blah blah. Boring. Iza wasn’t sure why he hadn’t broken up with him yet, but he secretly kind of liked the stupid couple stuff. Luckily for them both, because that was about all there was between them these days, and even that was scarce. 

Whatever. Just meant there was one less complication in his plan to get railed tonight. 

His phone was turned off after that, and from then on the party steadily grew wilder and wilder. He was a little nervous being in too close of quarters with the drunk assholes, even though he was an asshole who definitely couldn’t be called sober, because this delicate outfit was too nice to ruin yet. So instead of squirming his way to the center of the dancing crowd, as he might have at any other party, he flitted to and fro, downing shots at what would have been an alarming rate if his tolerance hadn’t been so high and chatting up familiar faces and gathering up as much juicy gossip as he could. Wise to do that from time to time, collect useful knowledge, bolster a few fake friendships. He was in a good mood, thriving off of the company, the blissfully exciting vibe that accompanied a booming party, and the spirits.

And then he was catching sight of the most beautiful face he’d ever laid eyes on and choking vodka up his nose in the least graceful manner he’d ever displayed. 

It took him a moment to recover from that, coughing and swiping at his nose and watering eyes and trying to tame his wildly beating heart, but eventually he regained something resembling composure and waved off the hands patting his back and the people questioning whether he was okay, if he needed some water, if he needed Murphy. He didn’t need water, didn’t need to disturb Murphy, and he was- well. Something else. 

The man had only just boarded the yacht, and there was a girl with him. Girlfriend? Iza felt a reflexive swell of loathing, but she disappeared pretty quickly and that was either a good sign or a terrible one. Either they weren’t a couple, or they were an unhappy or distant one that would be easy enough for Iza to sink his claws into the handsome Prince- literally, he was Prince Charming, the prettiest one at this party- or they were a couple so established and trusting in each other that they didn’t feel the need to stay attached at the hip.

It wasn’t impossible to seduce someone in a relationship like that, but it was a little more work than Iza’d intended on putting in tonight.

This guy, though- Iza wanted him.

It was weird, though. Oftentimes when he set his sights on a man it was with the intent of getting him into the nearest semi- private area- if that- and trading orgasms as quick as possible before moving on to the next, and shit, sure he wanted that with this guy too, but... just... weird. He was struggling to get past how much he wanted to go over and introduce himself. Get a closer look at the man. Or just stay here and admire him and internally gush from afar. 

Then, Iza could have sworn that the man looked right at him, eye contact from across the deck of this overloaded yacht, and something in his chest rose up and overflowed- seconds passed, and then he blinked, and it was over, leaving him to wonder if it had ever even happened at all. Between his fuzzy thoughts, jelly knees, dizzy head and racing heart, Iza had to wonder if someone had snuck something into his drink again- but he decided this didn’t feel like last time. It was a different kind of scary.

He chugged down half his drink because his mouth had gone terribly dry and decided, nope, legs weren’t working anytime soon, but hey, at least he had a good view. Maybe it was creepy to just fucking stare at someone, but it was a big party, lots of people. He could have been looking at anyone and anything. He was just hanging out. Relaxing. Nursing his drink. It was fine. It was the finest night of his entire life. Definitely.

And then that eye contact thing that he maybe but surely couldn’t be imagining happened again, and luckily he wasn’t trying to take a drink that time, but god, that swoopy feeling in his stomach sure returned with a vengeance. What the fuck, honestly? Where the fuck was Murphy? He’d have an explanation for this. His explanation would probably be something along the lines of you need to get dicked down, and as always, he would be right.

Iza drew in a deep breath and counted down from a hundred, calming his stupid ass down and attempting to return his heartrate to normal. Maybe he’d just had too much cocaine. Maybe that was to blame for this. There had to be some sort of logical explanation- the dicking down, he reminded himself. Dick. Solved all problems, didn’t it? 

It dawned on him then that this was the longest he’d refrained approaching a target in- well, ever, probably. This was fucking unprecedented, and now that he’d come to that realization, well, he certainly couldn’t stand for it.

Of course that eye- contact- that- nearly- killed- him thing would happen again right then, and Iza all but whined, deflating against the railing and resolving himself to marching over there as soon as he was sure he could trust his legs. This was ridiculous. He was going to dance with that man and prove to them both that the Prince had absolutely no magic powers over him, and- and horrorstruck, Iza realized that the very thought of a simple dance with the man had him blushing. And not a cute, faint little blush either, it was a full- faced, red heated mess, he could feel it. 

Briefly, he considered throwing himself overboard before he bit the bullet and slipped through the crowd. He wasn’t sure what the fuck was wrong here, he only knew he had to fix it immediately, whatever it took.

It was easy enough to sneak through the maze of bodies until he was behind the Prince, but it took him a few moments to boost up his courage enough to speak, and that was another thing on an ever- growing list of shit he wasn’t used to. He took a sip of his bubbly drink for courage and then fixed a coy grin on his face, leaving the flute lifted near his lips as if pretending to hide and wrapping his free arm around his waist, a totally casual picture. Not at all the fluttery gay disaster he’d been turned in to inside. “I’m fairly certain this is the part where you’re meant to ask me to dance,” Iza told him, trying valiantly to steel himself for when this man turned around and Iza was met head- on with the full force of what Iza knew would be devastating beauty. “It is how the story goes, you know?” 

[quill-dagger]

SheepDog Intro

I started the most self-indulgent novel in the universe for NaNoWriMo a couple of years ago, and I revisited it today on a whim. Turns out, the intro to this thing was tons of fun, so I thought I’d post it here, partially as a reminder that as much as I beat myself up about it, writing is fun, dammit. 

        “Hey, do we have any dish detergent left? You know, for the blood.”

        Kendra looked up from the Tiger Beat magazine she’d been flipping through to see if Jen was going to respond, but the other girl was furiously typing on her phone. Her nails were just long enough to slow down her usually rapid-fire thumbs, and it didn’t help that they’d been filed to points, turning them into shiny, dark gray claws. Her rose gold pentagram phone charm swung with every letter she punched in. After a moment or two, she lifted the phone and snapped a picture of herself, smiling and throwing up a peace sign. She went through a couple of filters before selecting the one she wanted and posting the picture online. Kendra waited patiently before the other girl closed her phone and dignified her question with an answer.

           “My mom went to Sam’s last week and got like, three giant things of Dawn. We can just go to her place and take some later.”

           Kendra frowned and looked at the spreading pool on the floor. “How much detergent are we gonna need? Will a couple bottle be enough?”

           Jen reached out with her foot and lightly nudged the source of the blood with her foot. He groaned in response, but this groan was a lot weaker than the last. He’d be done soon, and they could stop all this waiting and finally get the ritual started properly, not to mention finally putting their kitchen back in order. The dining table had to be shoved aside at an awkward angle to make space for the circle in the middle of the floor, since the single bedroom and the living room were both carpeted, and they didn’t want to risk the stains.  Still, waiting for a grown man to bleed out was a little boring. They could have slashed his carotid and made it quick, but the demon they were summoning demanded that things be low and slow, so they’d opened up his wrists. Across the street, of course. Down the road would have been too efficient. Kendra wished she had brought her own phone for the hundredth time that night. She flipped open the magazine again and stared at the face of a non-threatening teen boy with swoopy hair and dreamy eyes. Maybe they wouldn’t have had such a hard time taking this boy down. He looked a lot lighter the dying man on the floor. Kendra vaguely wondered whether he would have bled out faster.

           “We probably have enough. It doesn’t really take that much.” Jen flicked a lock of black hair out of her face and continued fiddling with her phone. “Did you remember to place all the wards?”

           Kendra nodded. The windows and doors of the house had the little cloth covered in bits of protective code tucked away in the corners. She’d spent hours going over all the nooks and crannies, making sure that none of the energy from the ritual would be detected. They didn’t need any interlopers picking up their trace. Magic was a covetous thing, dark magic especially so. She didn’t want to be locked up in a government lab like the Fair girls. The modern justice system wasn’t equipped to keep dark witches locked up, but anything was possible with enough morphine.

           “What did those dudes want this demon for, anyway?” Jen asked. She had put her phone down and was leaning against her headboard, fiddling with one of her rings. “We probably have another couple of minutes before she gets here, so we might as well shoot the shit. The bald one was pretty weird.”

           Kendra turned a page in the magazine and glanced over some celebrity gossip. Some blonde actress got dumped by another swoopy haired boy. Someone’s mom was sick. It might have been cancer, but the sentence-long blurb was frustratingly vague. Sneaker endorsements. On-screen kisses. Two blonde white people in a cream Mercedes, smiling and laughing, wearing watches and jewelry that cost more than Kendra would ever make in a single year.

           “Something about the owners of a rival business or something. Like, another game shop.”

           Jen whistled. “Business rivalry! That’s new. Mostly we get revenge or some romance-gone-wrong shit.”

           Kendra wiped her sweaty palms off on the black comforter. “Didn’t one guy want to just, wipe out the town? I remember him. Some really wound-up kid who wanted to wreck the whole tri-county area.”

           Jen poked their victim with her foot again. No groan this time. They were getting closer. “I remember him. That was a no-go. Can’t spend the money if we’re all dead, sweetie. That’s the golden rule.”

           “We don’t have a lot of those,” Kendra muttered into her magazine.

           Jen frowned at her. “A lot of what?”

           Kendra took another glance at the man on the floor. The groans had stopped, and he was lying still, all the blood that had been keeping him alive surrounding him on the floor. His wallet was lying on the nightstand, empty. Jen had been the one to strip the vics of their valuables ever since Kendra had found pictures of a family and gotten cold feet on a job with a big payout.

          “Rules.”

          Jen scoffed and started lighting all the necessary candles around the room. “Don’t sweat it too much. You’re always over-thinking shit. Look, this dude was boring. He lived a boring little life with a boring little office job and worked boring long hours so he could bring money home to his boring little wife. Getting murdered was probably the best thing that was ever gonna happen to him, baby. Live fast, die young. Not young enough in his case, I guess.”

          Kendra took a piece of chalk and completed the last bits of code that made up the summoning circle, careful to check for places where it had been smeared by blood.

          “Promise we won’t end up like that guy,” she said, glancing at the greying temples soaked in red.

          “What, dead?”

          “No, sad and old.”

          Jen laughed as she finished up the candles. “Hell no, babe. It’s the 27 Club or bust. I’m not letting them put me into the ground with fucking crow’s feet. We can start by buying some more coke when this payment lands, got it?”

          Kendra smiled and sealed the circle.

         “Deal. Now let’s get this thing started.”

          Jen pulled out a glittery pink binder and flipped through the pages muttering to herself.

          “Let’s see...Matthias the Warped....The Ballerina, Caroline Matthews, Pazuzu, Hanako….Ah, there she is! Lamia. Okay, let’s meet our little friend.”

           Jen stood on one side of the circle, holding the book and looking very solemn for the first time all night. Certain demons are fans of solemnity, and this one happened to be one of those uptight geezers who demanded candles and chanting instead of orgies and dancing. Not the best ritual for a Saturday night, but Lamia was the best one for the job. Kendra stood on the other side, placing her palms in the air on the edge of the circle, her eyes closed in concentration. After a reverent moment of silence, Jen’s voice broke into a low chant.

           Neither Jen nor Kendra knew what language it was in. They had looked up how to summon Lamia online, but none of their sources ever agreed on whether it was some weird ancient form of Latin or Greek. Either way, it had taken forever to learn the words, and Kendra still wasn’t any good at it, but Jen was nearly a master. The chant rose and fell in the gentle cadence, and Kendra found herself swaying, enraptured by the power of Jen’s voice and the flow of energy steadily rising from the floor. She opened her eyes just a crack and saw that the man’s body was sinking into the floor as if he were drowning in quicksand. Kendra wondered vaguely what even happens to the bodies of their vics after they disappear into the swirling pink void, the color of the universe somewhat anti-climatically named cosmic latte, but the power overtook her mind again, and she shut her eyes to feel it more strongly.

         Jen’s voice wavered, and Kendra peeked at her from across the circle. Her brows were knit a little more tightly than usual, and her gray claws dug into the glittering back of her binder. Something was up. Usually, the two of them was all that was needed to diffuse the power of the ritual, but things seemed to be getting dicey. They’d brought the Lamia into their world with no hiccups before (aside from the occasional attempted murder of someone who was not a target), but now Kendra was beginning to feel the strain. Her breathing became more labored and her hands began to tremble as they threatened to fall to her sides. Something was blocking the Lamia. Something huge. Something even more dangerous.

          Jen looked at Kendra from across the circle, fear in her eyes. Kendra shook her head at her and mouthed, ‘Stop the chant’. Jen’s eyes widened, but Kendra nodded firmly, leaving her no room for argument. It would be better to just get another sacrifice and try the ritual again some other time instead of dredging up whatever horror they were about to encounter. Murder was a bitch, but so was dying, and neither of them were 27 yet, anyway. Jen grimaced and shut her summoning binder, although not without some difficulty. The power dissipated, leaving them standing in the middle of the room with a half-open gate to some distant netherworld in the middle of their kitchen. The body had long been consumed, but all-in-all, it was still quite a mess.

         “What the fuck was that?” Jen snapped, throwing aside her binder and pointing at the remnants of their failed summoning.

          “How the hell should I know? There’s no way Lamia should have been intercepted. I didn’t think there would be enough time.”

          Jen grabbed her candle snuffer and went to work on the candles. “Well, whatever it is, I don’t want to find out. Lamia is our resident badass. If something can take her out, then whatever it is, it can stay on that side of the circle for all I care.” She shivered as the last candle went out.

         “Jesus,” she muttered. “I didn’t sign up for this shit.”

        “Uh, didn’t you though?”

         “Shut the fuck up, Kendra!” Jen yelled across the circle, “I signed up for coke and money, not for this…”

          “Jen,” Kendra interrupted. “I did not say that.”

          Jen paused, mouth open mid-tirade. Where the body of a man used to be, where the warm pink swirl of the portal between worlds pooled beneath their feet, was a face. A brown face with a wicked smile and killer eyebrows. It stared up at them, eyes going back and forth between the two.

          “Down here, girls.”

           Kendra shrieked and tried to scuff the edge of the circle to close the gate, but the chalk refused to come up no matter how hard she tried. Jen grabbed the knife they’d used to take down their vic and waved it threateningly, the dried blood on the edge making for a gruesome display.

          “You stay the fuck down there!” Jen shouted. “We don’t want any trouble from you, okay?”

          The face huffed. “Well, I didn’t want any trouble either, but here we are. Stuck together on a Saturday night. The Coathangers were playing at the Masquerade tonight and you’re making me miss it. I hope you’re happy with yourselves, ladies.”

          Slowly, the face rose out of the darkness, revealing that it was attached to a head with long, white locs. The being continued to rise, revealing a woman in a jean jacket crusted with a million buttons and patches. In one hand, she held a long bowie knife inscribed with line after line of code. In the other hand, she held the disembodied head of the Lamia, all tongues and rage even in death, her neck stump dripping with green iridescent blood. It was also apparent, once she’d fully exited the portal and stood swaying on the kitchen floor, that she was very, very drunk.

         “Oh God,” Kendra groaned. “It’s you.”

         “Hey now,” the interloper drawled. “Is that any way to talk to an officer of the law? I don’t think so.”

         “Why don’t you ever just mind your own fucking business, Sheepdog? We know what happened to the Fair girls. We aren’t about to go down like them.”

          “What happened to them was...yeah, that was pretty shitty,” Sheepdog said. “But then again, they shouldn’t have been cutting people up to summon demons for their freaky underground club thing. I looked around down there, and let me tell you, corn on the cob should not be used that way.”

          Jen lunged at Sheepdog with the knife, but Sheepdog’s knife was faster. Jen’s weapon sailed through the air and landed next to the sink. Jen crumpled to the ground and moaned, cradling her injured hand. Kendra backed away slowly, thinking furiously of anything she could use as a weapon. She grabbed a candle and waved it uselessly in front of her.

          “Stay back. Stay back, do you hear me?”

           Sheepdog walked towards her slowly, swinging the Lamia’s head in time with her steps. She didn’t seem to be in any great hurry.

            “Yeah, I hear ya. I’m just not listening, you know?” She stopped and tossed the Lamia’s head at Kendra, who caught it in her arms with no small amount of disgust. “Look, the boys will be here soon, with magic neutralizers and, if you give them any shit, guns. So have a seat and relax or something. No need to lose your head.”

            Sheepdog snorted and started giggling uncontrollably as Kendra watched her with a mixture of hate and horror. After she collected herself, Sheepdog twirled her knife and walked back to the still-open portal, whistling a little tune as she went.

            “Wait!” Kendra shouted.

            Sheepdog stopped and turned, swaying under the pull of both the portal and her own inebriation. “What?”

            “How did you know we were doing this? How did you know to stop us?”

            Sheepdog stepped into the portal and spoke as she began to sink into the abyss.

           “I have ways, girl. Ways that you would not even be able to begin to imagine. I have whispered to the shadows of dead men in the dark. I had spilled the blood of a suckling calf in the darkness of the new moon. I have wrung bile from goat stomach, traded the minutes and hours of my life with the blind sisters of the end times, and filled my belly with the cold waters of the rivers of deceit. I am connected with all the paths of magic, and all those paths led me to you, on this night, committing evil against man.”

          Kendra trembled, watching Sheepdog slip further and further into the portal disappearing beyond their reach.

         “Also,” she added, just as her mouth was about to slip below the surface. “Your friend there posted some shady shit on Instagram earlier today. That was also a factor.”

          In one more breath, Sheepdog was gone, and all that was left of the night was the ruined head of the Lamia, and the sound of approaching sirens in the distance.

[xundercoverangelx]

OK fuck you guys

Kids grow up weird. It just is. Puberty is SUPER fucking weird and does all kinds of developmental shit to your mind and body. 

What I’m saying is that in the Todoroki theory the proliferating argument that I see is that the short child with the hair covering his eyes MUST be Natsuo because he’s the younger older brother, and it MUST be him because the hair is pure white. And then the taller one is the unnamed brother because he’s tall so he MUST be older and there are red flecks in his hair so that MUST mean it’s a different brother who MUST have a fire quirk.

But aren’t you all looking at it a bit too literally?

Couldn’t Natsuo have ‘sprouted early’? Kids do that all the time when growing. He could just be naturally taller. And couldn’t he have outgrown a quirk that originally manifested closer to his birth? Especially if if a larger percent of his whole quirk ability was dedicated to ice, as mostly white hair with red flecks seems to imply? And hOW THE FUCK are people trying to argue that that wide-eyed, black star t-shirt wearing cutie pie isn’t Natsuo?

And for Fuyumi: girls go through puberty and growth way before guys do. It sucks, and it’s true. The child with his hair covering his eyes could very well be older than her despite looking younger, it’s just the way growth patterns work. Especially if he’s a ‘late bloomer’, which we all know happens in real life. 

So how does the white hair of the swoopy-hair child work?

Good question. My answer: things are changing.

Remember when I whole lot of Dabi fans from the time he first appeared in the manga got blown away when the anime showed him and it became known that his fire was fucking BLUE?! Misinterpretations are made ALLLL the time. It’s hard to tell in a black and white manga that colors things in shades of gray-scale and what will turn out to be the full-color spreads or the anime.  What if it isn’t white? What is it’s something entirely different?

And the last thing is: you DO know that this theory and the controversy surrounding it has garnered the attention of the author himself, right? We, as a fan base, are literally driving his hand to give us a definitive conclusion. No, you won’t be left hanging about the question of ‘Is Dabi a Todoroki?’ because he  HAS to answer it, it’s become big enough of a irremovable inquiry. 

People cried foul when the anime colored that brother’s hair as red when the manga hadn’t shaded it at all and wrote it off as the anime studio just ‘fucking up as per usual’, but what if the didn’t? What if it was highly intentional, like how Dabi’s flames being blue could be nothing but intentional. 

tldr; Horikoshi gave himself a LOT of freedom to sow seeds throughout the progression of the manga so far, and I believe that he is adjusting his trajectory of introducing the Todoroki siblings in the anime as he pursues the storyline he wishes to follow in the manga (hence the recent chapters giving more detail into the Todoroki family/siblings in this crucial turnover to Endeavor being no. 1) And Natsuo was JUST INTRODUCED in the manga, Purposefully drawn WITH THAT SAME HAPPY-GO-LUCKY FACE!

 I don’t know exactly how he will choose to justify the relationship and the age/development oddities, but I’m telling you, there are mutiple avenues he could take. He isn’t in a corner, and there is no one straight-shot explanation that we as fans can safely rely on. 

None of us know what’s coming, but it’s guaranteed to be one hell of an emotional and breathtaking ride, I bet. Don’t try to shut down the theory when there is so much room for it to thrive in. Once, Horikoshi may have planned for the other sibling to be someone entirely else, but... y’know, I just don’t think that’s the case anymore. The story is EVOLVING to point in the direction of.....

[ghostchasersmagazine]

Butch Cassidy, Mark [Speed Buggy], and Ted [Goober And The Ghost Chasers] for the Character Opinion Bingo?

Thanks for asking!

I don't have a proper bingo sheet for Mark since none of the options on there really fit my opinion of him, so I'll talk about him here first and then do Butch and Ted with their bingo sheets under the cut.

I do like Mark well enough. I think he fits the role of the Responsible One in the Speed Buggs dynamic well (without it being the only thing he does, I remember a least a couple jokes involving him), and I do like him in "The Weird Winds of Winona". (In particular, I'm thinking about the scene where Shaggy thinks he's being attacked by the mannequin and Mark is the one who tries to call out to him/is the one who "catches" the mannequin.) He also gets some memorability points for being one of the few characters amongst the Mystery Teens to have dark skin (at least in "The Weird Winds of Winona" anyway), so he stands out physically.

But, I overall don't really have that strong of feelings about him, and I'd say that I like Tinker and Debbie a little bit more as characters than him. This might change as I watch more Speed Buggy, but so far that's the feel I've gotten from him. I like Mark just fine, but I don't have much to say about him beyond that.

Moving onto Butch and Ted next (who I do have stronger feelings on since they're from my two favorite Mystery Teen shows).

Butch:

"My every waking thought"/Keysmash: Butch is a character I think about a lot and just generally really like. He's a character I have strongly-felt headcanons for and just generally like to analyze, too. Since he's a character from a 13-episode Hanna Barbera show he's not exactly fleshed-out per say, but I like that he has consistent and interesting enough traits that I can work with in that regard.

"They have done nothing wrong, ever": This one is in reference to the fact that he's a government spy. While most of the time this doesn't factor in too much, other times there are scenes where Butch only saves a guy from drowning because the government hadn't got to interrogate him yet. Butch may be a government pawn but I still care him. <3

"Not be nonbinary but-": I've mentioned it before but Butch has my favorite design of all the Mystery Teens. I like his swoopy hair, the necktie, the bell bottom pants, the whole 1970s Teen Idol look. The "pretty but masculine" vibe he gives off is very Gender Envy if you will.

Ted:

"My every waking thought"/Keysmash: Ted is another character I think about a lot and have strongly-felt headcanons for. Admittedly, a good amount of this is centered around his relationship with the other characters in his show as opposed to just him by himself, but still, I do think about him a lot.

I like how he's a character that is the Responsible One of his group but not written as a stick-in-the-mud; he clearly is as interested in ghosts as the rest of the characters are, and there are hints of other hobbies he could have hidden in the show too (like his interest in technology that I've mentioned before). I also like his design too, with the matching purple jacket-and-pants and his of-the-time haircut. I just think he's neat.

*gently holds*/"I want to kiss their poor little head": This is in reference to how expressive he can get in the show (I think mainly because of his thicker eyebrows), especially when he's upset/sad. A lot of the times when he's sad it looks like he's about to start crying and it makes me feel bad for him.

This is also in reference to how Ted is still just a teenager and how sometimes I wonder if he's putting too much pressure on himself being the Responsible One and all (kinda like how I feel about Butch I suppose). Sure, he has a job and a car and stuff, but he's still like, only 16 or 17 years old. I just want him to relax and have fun chasing ghosts.

[willimightbe]

All the emoji asks!

🐰 what is one secret that you’ve never told anyone?

My first attempt at packing involved a literal sausage. It didn’t work out.

💗 if you could hug anyone, who would it be?

My parents.  

🐹 what are some of your favourite Pokémon and why?

Treecko and Turtwig because I love some cute little grass Pokémon.

🌠 if you were in charge of the world, what would the world look like?

The world would be much brighter and happier.

👀 what was the most recent vivid dream that you had?

Ceece and I were having a picnic while hiking, and then we were ambushed by lumberjack centaurs.

☀️ what do you like the most about your best friend?

Kitty Kath has always been there for me no matter what. She’s loyal to the end.

😘 talk about your crush or partner

Ceece is an angel on Earth. He’s the perfect gentleman and scholar.

💁 if someone was rude to you, would you be rude back?

SOMEONE BETTER BE READY TO CATCH THESE HANDS

🌟 what do you like about yourself? (must choose at least 3 things!)

I love my swoopy hair.

I love the way my eyes are dark, yet bright in their own way.

I like the way I can overcome my dysphoria on my bad days.

🐾 what are you scared of most? how will you overcome it?

I’m scared of not living up to expectations, especially those of my parents.

🎁 what never fails to make you happy?

I honestly love listening to my friends talk about their lives.

💙 what annoys you about some people?

People who give me a weird second look when they learn I’m trans.

😤 do you get angry easily?

I’m much more hot-headed than most of my friends.

🐇 what do you always daydream about?

I’ve always wanted to surf without falling over.

🌻 if you could change 3 things about the world what would you change?

My friends will always be happy.

They’ll all be with the people they love.

I can ride a go kart whenever and wherever I want.

🍓 send me 4 names: kiss, befriend, kill or marry?

✈️ what is your dream city and why?

I love Rome because of the beauty of Italy.

☕️ talk about your ideal day

Sunbathing in the park with Ceece reading beside me.

🌸 are you an introvert, ambivert or extrovert?

Extrovert for sure.

💧 when was the last time you cried?

I cried at my own party after seeing all my friends there.

🎵 name 5 songs you love at the moment

Can I just list the entirety of Scorpion?

⚡️ if you had any superpower, what would it be and why?

Probably super strength. Or maybe mind reading.

💛 if you could talk to your younger self, what would you say?

Life won’t be easy, but that doesn’t mean it’s not worth living.

💚 who are you jealous of and why?

I’m jealous of Ceece because he gets to see his beautiful smile every time he looks in the mirror.

💎 which one would you rather have more of: intelligence, beauty, kindness, wealth or bravery? why?

I really wish I was smarter. I think that’s kinda self explanatory.

🙊 what are you ashamed of?

I’m ashamed of sleeping around so much when Ceece was always by my side.

🌺 which languages do you know? which do you want to learn?

English and a tiny bit of Sanskrit. I really wanna learn Spanish, French, Italian, and all the Romance languages.

🍀 if you could be any fictional character’s best friend/lover, which fictional character would you be?

I think I’d be Elizabeth Bennett so I could say I married Darcy. Again.

☁️ talk about your dream universe.

A universe where my friends and I can just live in a big mansion together and just be happy.

💜 which acts of kindness are you going to do today?

I’m giving all my employees (and myself) an extra long lunch break.

🐬 if you could transform into any animal/magical creature, what would you be and why?

Probably a dolphin? They’re pretty cool.

🍄 talk about someone/something you really dislike

How about no?

😣 talk about some things that have been making you depressed/angry/anxious lately

I just really wish I could talk to my parents again, ask them about how they’re doing.

🍪 what did you want to be as a kid, and what do you want to be now?

I wanted to be a firefighter when I was young, but now… I don’t know what.

🍰 what are some of your favourite sugary foods?

I like chocolate over sugar.

🍑 what are you obsessed with?

My friends’ cooking. Particularly @tumblebeebumblebee @arosethatsmellsjustassweet and @goodold-captainjack

💘 what happens to you when you’re stressed?

I tend to lash out at others when I’m stressed.

😪 what are you sick of?

Getting up early.

🙀 are you an adrenaline seeker?

Depends on what it is. Like, I’m good with heights, but not high speeds.

💥 what are some unpopular opinions that you have?

Pineapple on pizza is wonderful.

☔️ would you consider yourself a good person?

Uh, yeah.

😊 what do you like to do as hobbies?

I watch a lot of Netflix if that counts.

🎤 what’s the last song you hummed or sang by yourself?

The Liberty Bell March

🐝 what’s your worst trait? how are you planning to improve it?

I’m a big procrastinator, so I’m trying to stick to a daily schedule.

🎨 what do you always doodle when you’re bored?

I draw arrows on my arms.

🐻 what’s stopping you from chasing your dreams?

I don’t know, really. I guess I need to find my dream first.

🌷 what’s your mbti personality and why do you think it suits you?

ESFJ: The Provider. I love to give things to my friends.

🐶 send me 3 fictional people and I’ll choose my favourite!

👑 who are your favourite celebrities and why?

I met Nikhil Saboo at the stage door of Mean Girls He seems pretty cool and isn’t bad looking.  

🐴 opinion on __?

🍋 do you consider yourself an emotional person?

I’m very emotional.

📚 share 3 books that you love and your favourite quote from them.

“You’re worth more than the whole damn bunch put together.” - The Great Gatsby

“Angry people are not always wise.” - Pride and Prejudice

“In the beginning the Universe was created. This has made a lot of people very angry and been widely regarded as a bad move.” - The Restaurant at the End of the Universe

😔 what do you always do when you feel sad? does it help?

I usually just go up onto the roof and wait until the feelings go away.

😌 what thoughts keep you going when you’re sad?

Tomorrow could be the day I get nachos.

🌍 which country do you live in?

America.

🐧 describe yourself in 3 words

Jock, dork, awesome.

🐵 which quotes changed you?

Listed them already.

💭 do you keep a diary?

…no?

💫 who inspires you?

My parents, Ceece, and Kitty Kath.

👻 do you believe in ghosts and why?

Yeah; ghosts are just souls that haven’t moved on yet.

🎀 what’s your fashion sense like?

Preppy and smart unlike the man in them.

🎬 what are some of your favourite films?

The Hundred Foot Journey.

🍦 what is one treasured childhood memory?

My parents buying me my first binder.

🐼 if you could meet anyone, who would it be and why?

I’d meet my biological family.

[torestoreamends]

Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Fic: Fairies

1.4k words, G rated

Albus finds Scorpius sitting in a tree, reading, surrounded by tiny fairies, and the beautiful sight leads to an accidental revelation...

@ohscorbus is responsible for so much. This fic was inspired by her tags on this beautiful art by @heraart.

Beta’d, as always, by @abradystrix.

Read it on AO3

*

When Albus arrives, Scorpius is sitting up in the tree, swinging his legs back and forth, and reading a book. It’s already getting dark; the sun is well set, streaking the black sky with a few last shreds of red and gold in the distance beyond the fields. Scorpius doesn’t have his wand lit, but Albus knows he can see to read because of all the fairies.

The branches of the tree are studded with them, turquoise and rose and emerald, each shining with their own light. They’ve settled on Scorpius’s shoulders and head too, and several of them are reading along with him. He keeps glancing around at them, waiting until they nod for him to turn the page before he continues.

Albus stands at the base of the tree and stares up at the beautiful sight: Scorpius surrounded by these magical creatures, bathed in their glow, sharing some distant imaginary world with them, holding their rapt attention in a way that only he can. It makes Albus want to turn around and walk away, leaving him to it, because it seems wrong to disturb something so... Albus doesn’t even know how to describe it. He just knows that it makes him feel very warm and sort of swoopy inside.

After a couple of minutes of staring he clears his throat and knocks on the trunk of the tree. He doesn’t know why he does it, but it feels like the right thing to do. Scorpius immediately looks up from his book, and if it’s possible he lights up even more.

“Albus!” He says, closing the book, and making several of the fairies grumble that they were enjoying that.

“Can I come in?” Albus asks.

Scorpius gestures to the branch next to him. “Please join us.”

Albus smiles and starts scrambling up the tree. Several of the fairies flutter down and land on his shoulders, giving him ‘helpful’ advice on how best to climb up that just ends with him banging his knee, swearing and nearly falling back onto the ground. After that he ignores the fairies and scrambles up his own way, which works perfectly well thank you very much. When he’s high enough up, Scorpius offers him a hand, and at that point Albus nearly falls out of the tree again, because he makes the mistake of looking up and seeing that Scorpius is glowing a rainbow of colours from the fairies’ light. He looks almost painfully beautiful, and Albus pauses for a moment with his mouth slightly open, unable to stop staring.

“Is your knee alright?” Scorpius asks, lips twitching like he’s struggling to hold back a smile.

“Not really,” Albus says, feeling slightly dazed. He takes hold of Scorpius’s hand, trying very hard not to notice how warm and strong it is.

The little orange fairy who is presumably to blame for the mishap gives a sheepish little giggle and flutters off to hide among the branches, but Albus can’t turn to glare at her because he can’t take his eyes off Scorpius.

Scorpius makes sure Albus is sitting safely on the branch, then he draws his wand. “Do you want me to heal that?” He asks, gesturing to Albus’s knee.

“No!” Albus says desperately. “Please don’t cast magic on me. I don’t need to fall anymore in-“ Halfway through the sentence his brain catches up with his mouth and he realises what he’s saying. He clamps his lips tight shut as his cheeks burn. “I-I mean…”

Scorpius lowers his wand. He opens and closes his mouth a couple of times, like he has no idea what to do or say next, then he tucks his wand away and stares down at his hands.

“I’m sorry,” Albus groans, burying his face in his hands. “That was a stupid thing to say. I didn’t think, I just-“ He gives a despairing sigh and slumps his shoulders, wondering if he should jump out of the tree and run away now. A couple of the fairies giggle at him, and he wishes the tree would somehow grow around him and swallow him up. It would be much less trouble being a tree. Trees don’t say stupid things. Trees don’t embarrass themselves. Trees don’t fall in love with their best friends and ruin everything.

“You could, um-“ Scorpius says after a second, interrupting Albus’s spiralling thoughts. “You could try that again. And... and finish what you were going to say.”

Albus groans and lifts his head. “Could I? They’ll just laugh at me,” he says, gesturing around at the fairies. “You’ll just laugh at me.”

“They might,” Scorpius says, glaring around at the fairies. “But… but I won’t.”

“Are you sure?” Albus asks, glancing at him.

Scorpius nods, and his expression is very serious, eyes an intense, bright silver that for some reason makes Albus certain he’s telling the truth. “Positive.”

Several of the fairies in Scorpius’s hair have their hands clapped over their mouths, apparently trying to stifle their giggles, and a few more are making little hearts with their fingers, adoring expressions on their faces. Albus isn’t sure which is more distracting, but he wishes both groups would stop.

He swallows. “Fine,” he says, trying desperately to ignore the fairies. “Fine.” He looks at a point well over Scorpius’s shoulder, away from the fairies, toward the lit windows of the Manor. “I don’t need to fall any more in love with you. Okay?”

Scorpius considers for several seconds. “Any more,” he says thoughtfully. “How in love are you already?”

“Scorpius,” Albus groans. “Please don’t be mean.”

“I’m not being mean!” Scorpius says. “I’m curious.”

Albus looks at him, and he feels a flood of desperate determination inside him. He doesn’t care anymore. This can’t get any worse, can it? He sets his jaw and lifts his chin. “Do you really want to know?”

Scorpius nods. “Yes.” Up until now he’s sounded so matter of fact, but now his voice breaks, making Albus’s heart flutter.

“Fine,” he says, throwing caution to the winds, because this can’t get any worse than it already is, so he might as well. “Like this.”

Then he does the most reckless thing he’s ever done in his life. He brushes his fingers through Scorpius’s hair and holds his head as he kisses him hard on the lips. He dislodges several of the fairies as he does it, and they give reproachful little squeaks as they flutter around both their heads. But neither of them notice.

The kiss takes Albus’s breath away, and he was the one who started it so he can’t imagine how Scorpius feels. He gives a quiet gasp to get some more air, and pulls Scorpius closer. Why he hasn’t been doing this for years he has no idea, because this is wonderful. This is glorious. This is soft and warm and bright. It’s also a bit messy and weird and he’s aware that he has no idea what he’s doing, especially when their teeth knock together.

“Sorry,” he murmurs.

“Sshh,” Scorpius replies, pulling him back in. “Practice makes perfect.”

And Albus grins because that is so true, and this is something he’s definitely willing to practice.

He readjusts his hand in Scorpius’s hair, and changes the angle of his head to see if it helps, and it does for a second, but then he feels something pummelling his cheek, and it hurts, so he pulls back.

“What-“

There’s a fairy attacking him.

“Why are you doing that?” He asks. “I’m trying to-“

“You’re hurting her,” the fairy squeaks.

“What? I’m not hurting-“

The fairy nods at Scorpius, and for a second Albus is confused, but then he realises that he’s got one of the fairies pinned under his fingers where he was gripping the back of Scorpius’s head.

“Oh,” he says, and he quickly lets go.

The fairy falls onto Scorpius’s collar, where she shakes her wings and stretches her limbs out, checking to see that nothing’s broken.

“Are you okay?” Albus asks. He holds a finger out and she climbs on, still fluttering her wings.

“You squashed me,” she squeaks at him.

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“But he’s cute,” she says, grinning. “I won’t hold it against you.” She glances at Scorpius, blushes a bit, then takes off with another flutter of her wings, flying up into the tree.

Albus watches her go, then looks back at Scorpius who has gone very pink.

“Am I?” He asks, looking at Albus.

“What,” Albus says, “cute?”

Scorpius nods, going even more pink, so his cheeks glow the colour of the roses in his mum’s garden.

Albus grins at the sight and nods. “You might be.” Then, after checking that there are no more fairies that might get accidentally squished in the process, he kisses Scorpius again.

[falloutbradreviews]

Album Review by Bradley Christensen The Maine – Can’t Stop Won’t Stop Record Label: Fearless Release Date: July 8 2008

Bands change over time, that’s just how it goes, but one of the most interesting changes is what The Maine has gone through over the last eleven years. I’ve been a fan of them since the very beginning, back when they released their debut EP, The Way We Talk, back in 2007. A lot of fans only probably know their last couple of albums, because that’s when they got bigger in the alternative scene, but I wouldn’t hold that against anyone, since it makes sense. 2015’s American Candy is when the band started to get more of a following (well, more of a following again, anyway, as they were pretty huge in the “neon” era during the mid-00s) within the emo / pop-punk communities. Anyway, I was very into their debut album, 2008’s Can’t Stop Won’t Stop, but I never had a copy of it, for whatever reason. I think I just couldn’t find the CD in stores, but I remember I had it on iTunes way back in the day. Afterwards, that’s when my relationship with this band got a bit shakier. 2010’s Black & White was a good album, but they went into a much more “commercial” direction with it, and 15-year-old me wasn’t too impressed by it. Can’t Stop Won’t Stop had just the right amount of alternative cred to it, where I could forgive its catchier and slicker sound, but they went full radio-pop-rock with Black & White, and its lyrics got less interesting, so I just didn’t care about it whatsoever. Pioneer, however, their 2011 follow-up was even more interesting, because it was a really exhausting and longwinded alt-rock album that tried to be more “serious” and “mature,” but I really didn’t buy it, so I never got into it. I even bought the album twice, once when it came out and another time a couple of years ago, but I just never got into it. 2013’s Forever Halloween is the album that made me go, “Wow, this is a mature album,” because that was the one that showed people that this band had a lot to offer. That’s a really solid album, too, as it had the band go into a more indie-rock, alt-rock, and even  a 90s-influenced direction.

When it comes to 2015’s American Candy, however, that’s when my relationship with The Maine sours. I didn’t like that album. Hell, I’ve grown to dislike it more over time, because it’s not a good album. I mean, parts of it are good, as I love its sound, but even then, it’s a very blatant and disappointing regression from Forever Halloween. Its overall idea is good, being an updated version of their first album, but the vocals weren’t very good, the lyrics were horrendous, and the overall sound was generic and lifeless, so I didn’t like it whatsoever. I haven’t even bothered to listen to their last album, because they didn’t even release it to digital outlets or streaming services until much later, so I haven’t bothered to care whatsoever. It’s not even like American Candy was disappointing, either. It was bad. It was a genuinely ugly record that sounded sweet on the surface, but when you really dug into the lyrics, they were garbage. I thought the lyrics on their debut album were cringing, but going back to Can’t Stop Won’t Stop now, they’ve aged quite well, and the lyrics from an album released ten years are somehow better than from an album only released a few years ago. Because of American Candy, I don’t really care about The Maine, but I wanted to finally get a copy of Can’t Stop Won’t Stop, and I feel like that’s their most underrated album, because it seems like they don’t really talk about that record or that “era,” anyway. Most people associate them with their last two albums, anyway, but listening to Can’t Stop Won’t Stop again after ten years, give or take, it’s a great album. I forgot how much I love it. It’s one of those albums that’s very nostalgic to me, so I have an attachment to it, but going back to it, it’s a very damn good album, regardless. It’s easily their best, too, especially compared to their other albums.

Hate me for that, but this and Forever Halloween are their best albums. I don’t follow the fandom at all anymore, so I have no idea what the consensus is, but those are their best two albums, and the only albums worth caring about, honestly. Like Every Avenue’s debut album, 2008’s Shh, Just Go With It, which I just talked about, this album is a bit generic. It’s not the most unique album, but what I like about this album more than that one, even though that album is fantastic, is that it’s actually quite diverse. This band was more or less in the “neon” scene that was within pop-punk during the mid-00s, where bands had a lot of synth in their sound, the members had swoopy hair, they wore deep v-neck shirts, and they talked about very similar things that emo and pop-punk did beforehand, but they did it with a neon sheen, I guess you could say. This album has a lot of diversity, though, because every track sounds different. You have songs that are more straightforward power-pop / pop-punk, such as “Everything I Ask For,” “I Must Be Dreaming,” and “Girls Do What They Want,” but you have songs that have more of an indie feel to them, such as “This Is The End,” “Into Your Arms,” and “We’ll All Be,” whereas some songs are more acoustically based (“Whoever She Is”), or having that typical “neon” sound (“You Left Me”). The diversity on the album is very good, and every song has its own feel, so it never gets boring or monotonous to listen to. I personally very much enjoy this record, but it’s not just for its sound. Vocalist John O’Callaghan has a very unique voice, even if it’s not the best, technically speaking, but he uses it well. The lyrics are surprisingly interesting, too, but some of the songs can be a bit silly, over the top, and stupid. “Everything I Ask For” is a good example, just from how juvenile the lyrics are, but it’s sweet, catchy, and fun, so I don’t mind it.

When I said that the song “Everything I Ask For” is a catchy, sweet, and fun song, that’s how I feel about the whole album, really. It’s a diverse, fun, catchy, and interesting “neon” record from 2008 that’s held up quite well, especially coming from a band that I don’t care for anymore. If you only can listen to one album from The Maine, and you’ve never listened to anything else they’ve put out, this is a good one to check out. It’s a good introduction to them. I don’t care a lot of their stuff, especially since they changed their sound over time, or they’re just not that good, but this album will always have a place in my heart. Can’t Stop Won’t Stop came out at a great time for pop-punk, because it really embraced the “poppier” side of pop-punk. The mid-00s, too, was a really weird time for pop, hip-hop, and the more “mainstream” styles of music, especially with the “club boom” of the mid-00s. There was a specific sound in pop music for that era, and a lot of these “neon” bands took that pop sound for themselves. I wish pop-punk went in this direction still, and the only band we really got that combines outright pop music with pop-punk is Waterparks, and I’m not sold on them just yet. I gave their debut a listen awhile back, and it just didn’t do much for me, but if they balanced both sounds better, I feel like they could lead a “revival.” I’m almost shocked we haven’t gotten one yet, considering there’s been an emo revival. The Maine didn’t totally go full neon, as they only had one song that was really like that, but similarly to Every Avenue, they had the look, as well as the lyrics, down pat, so they fit well into the scene, regardless. They were associated with a lot of bands in that scene, and toured with a bunch of bands in that scene, too, so they had ties to it. Alternative Press was my Bible back in 2007 / 2008, and that’s how I came across plenty of these bands, but out of everything that I’ve been into, Can’t Stop Won’t Stop is one of my favorites.

[mara-the-cactupus]

Everything Ask Game

Thank you @the-moon-loves-the-sea​ for tagging me! This is quite the list:

LAST...

Drink: A lukewarm London Fog. I was messing around with the tea at work.

Phone call: A customer.

Text message: My aunt, who wants to go on a beach walk with me.

Song you listened to: Hmm... last thing I actually sat down and clicked on would be this Star Trek medley; I don’t know the names of half the songs that play in the background of life these days.

Time you cried: Watching Logan.

HAVE YOU...

Dated someone twice: um... nope

Kissed someone and regretted it: once again, I have zero data in this field.

Been cheated on: nope

Lost someone special: I lost a couple of very sweet dogs in my childhood.

Been depressed: no

Gotten drunk and thrown up: No, I generally stay away from alcohol. I have, however, had way too much caffeine and sugar in one day and almost thrown up multiple times now. It was not fun.

Made new friends: yes, every time I went to a new school or get a new job. And on here, of course : )

Fallen out of love: hmm, I’ve never really been in love in love, but I have gotten disillusioned with people I previously admired, almost like platonically falling in and out of love.

Found out someone was talking about you: not that I can remember, but I suppose my parents have to have talked about me some time.

Met someone who changed you: yes. Just about everybody who I get to know.

Found out who your friends are: I suppose they’re the people who I keep coming back to, and who keep coming back to me. The ones who don’t fall by the wayside even if we have no practical reason to keep in touch.

Kissed someone from your facebook list: ~no facebook~ (*wow*)

Kissed a stranger: no

Drank hard liquor: once again, I don’t really drink. But I have had some rum and Kahlua while making tiramisu at a friend’s house.

Turned someone down: yes.

Sex on the first date: um... definitely not.

Broken someone’s heart: oh, I hope not...

Had your heart broken: by movies, all the time.

Been arrested: no : )

Fallen for a friend: yeah, a few of them... but it sort of falls into that platonic-crush zone I mentioned earlier.

Kissed on the first date: nope

GENERAL

List three favorite colors: warm sunny yellow, liquidy yellowy orange, clear tropical ocean blue

How many facebook friends do you know in real life: zero out of zero.

Do you have any pets: no

Do you want to change your name: no, I like my names. They’re part of what make me who I am : )

What time did you wake up: somewhere between 9 and 10 because all I had scheduled for this morning was art. It was wonderful.

What were you watching at midnight last night: my dreams, presumably. Or the insides of my eyelids.

Name something you can’t wait for: several years in the future when I have some filmmaking experience under my belt and have landed a directorial job on an exciting film with a decent budget !!

When was the last time you saw your mom: today.

What is one thing you wish you could change in your life: I wish I wasn’t so weird and awkward as a kid, so I didn’t have a reputation/self-expectation of being shy. Then again, I’ve gotten more confident since then. But still overly wary.

What are you listening to right now: a bus just went by. I can hear the sound of breathing, and of those machines and contraptions that you forget are on but are always on, and my splayed-finger typing.

Have you ever talked to a person called Tom: yes. Multiple people.

Something that is getting on your nerves right now: humanity in general

Most visited site: tumblr.

Mole: a few, here and there. I’ve never really noticed them.

Mark/s: nothing I can think of except the constellations on my face and back.

Childhood dream: to be a writer.

Do you have a crush on someone: no. I seem to have outgrown them.

What do you like about yourself: my mind, my imagination, my internal monologue and source of amusement. My artistic skills. My body. My face. I think I’m generally pretty satisfied with myself as a person.

Piercings: none.

Nickname: Well, I guess there’s Azuki, which is my middle name, but other than that I’m just Mara. It’s a pretty straight-forward name.

Relationship status: single.

Pronouns: I’ve always felt pretty comfortable with she/her.

Favorite TV shows: ooh... Sense8 is probably my top show right now. I used to love BBC Sherlock. I also like Daredevil and Luke Cage, and I’ve been wanting to watch Brooklyn 99 for ages.

Tattoo: none.

Right or left handed: right.

Surgery: wisdom teeth, but so far nothing else. I would go for vision-correction but I get terribly squeamish.

Hair dyed a different color: no, my hair has always been pretty plain. I just wash it and let it air dry, nothing else.

Sport: I've done a little bit of martial arts and dancing and swimming here and there, but no real big organized sports aside from soccer when I was in elementary school.

Vacation: camping in a forest by the ocean, or traveling via air. There’s just something magical about being in a big airport with lots of vast emptiness and architecture, especially at night. The sort of feel of it reminds me of Captain America: The Winter Soldier, or of an airport factory, or of a wastewater treatment plant. It’s just... like you’re separated from the real world, like the real world with all its problems doesn’t really exist and you aren’t an identity but just a soul without self-consciousness. I don’t know how else to describe it.

Current and all-time best friend name: probably my sister, or else my friend since middle school who I still go on walks with.

Eye color: Brown, like my hair.

Favorite movie: Captain America: The Winter Soldier, or Finding Nemo/The Incredibles/Monsters Inc. I also like Inception, but that’s not a very good mindset to hang out in for more than a day or so.

WHICH IS BETTER?

Hugs or kisses: hugs! I love hugs : >

Lips or eyes: lips are fun to draw, with the swoopy-swoop arch of them, but eyes are just so fascinating. And eyes give a lot of helpful emotional cues.

Shorter or taller: taller can be more interesting. Tall buildings have interesting views, for example. And trees are wonderful, and also tall.

Nice arms or stomach: hmm... I would like to have a stronger core, and also eat healthier, so I’ll go with stomach. Although strong arms can be helpful.

Sensitive or loud: I think sensitive is generally better, because it means receptive, or observational – you’re absorbing more information as a whole, while if you’re loud you might be blocking a lot of those cues from yourself.

Hook up or relationship: relationship.

Troublemaker or hesitant: troublemakers can be charming, but also annoying if they don’t know when to stop. But I’m hesitant, and I get annoyed with that trait, so maybe troublemaker is better after all. More confident, I guess.

DO YOU BELIEVE IN...

Yourself: yes.

Miracles: yes.

Love at first sight: not really. You have to get to know the person, then realize you’re compatible, not see them and then try to force compatibility. That will only lead to disappointment.

Santa Claus: I can’t remember if I ever really did.

Tagging: aaaaaannyone who sees this post, scrolls by it, comes across it months later... just go for it. And tag me so I can see your answers : )

[dontcareajot]

(I made this into a highschool!AU because… Why not, I guess? Hope you enjoy, love!)

#44 – This is a totally inappropriate soundtrack.

Arin’s hands are shaking as he grips Dan’s waist. It’s almost two in the morning and they’re in Arin’s shitty beat-up car, parked at an empty gas station. The radio is on, playing some soft pop song that Arin can’t identify. Dan is in Arin’s lap, somehow, his legs folded up just so, his arms thrown over Arin’s shoulders as he kisses him. Kissing Dan is exactly as nice as Arin always thought it would be. His lips are soft, and warm, and he makes these little unconscious noises that let Arin know he’s doing something right. Dan is an enthusiastic kisser, and a good one, and Arin can’t believe he waited four years to tell Dan how he feels.

“Dan,” Arin says, breaking the kiss to look Dan in the eye. “Dan, I- I just wanted to say, no matter what happens after graduation tomorrow, I don’t- I don’t wanna drift apart. Okay? No drifting.”

“No drifting,” Dan agrees. He leans down, halfway stifles his giggle in the junction of Arin’s neck and shoulder before planting a kiss there. “Shit, man, you couldn’t be rid of me if you tried. Especially not now, when I’m finally allowed to do this.” He sits up to kiss Arin again, moans when Arin slips his hands under Dan’s shirt. He’s so responsive, like he’s never been with anyone before. But Arin knows that’s not true.

“Can I?” Dan asks against his lips, hand poised to pop the button on Arin’s jeans.

Arin’s so nervous he thinks he might die but he also thinks he’d probably die if he didn’t get Dan’s hands on him, pronto. So he nods, and is rewarded with a blinding grin, and the radio chooses that moment to swap songs. It goes from the soft pop song to Flo Rida’s Low and Arin grabs Dan’s wrists.

“If we’re doing this,” he says, seriously. “We gotta change the station, man. This is a totally inappropriate soundtrack to get my first gay handjob to.”

Dan laughs. It’s the same laugh Arin has heard a million times since freshman year, in a million different settings, but the sound of it still makes Arin’s heart do a weird swoopy thing.

Dan reaches over, flicks the radio off. “Better?” he asks, still snickering.

“Better,” Arin confirms.

“What would be an appropriate soundtrack?” Dan wonders, and Arin thinks he’s probably a little bit in love.

[more prompt fills]

[If you like what I do, please consider buying me a coffee!]

[falloutbradreviews]

Album Review by Bradley Christensen Owl City – Ocean Eyes Record Label: Universal Republic Release Date: July 14 2009

Hellogoodbye’s debut album, 2006’s Zombies (there’s a longer title, but I really don’t want to type it, honestly), is a record that’s dated in the best way. It’s dated, but it’s also oddly timeless, too. The album is so charming, sweet, and enjoyable that it’s timeless at the same time. If anything, it’s a perfect snapshot of what the alternative music scene was like at the time, especially if you frequented MySpace. I really enjoyed that album back in the day, and you know, I still like it. It’s a fun little album that doesn’t take itself too seriously, but it’s very sweet, kind, and cute. Do you want to know an album that I used to love back in the day that hasn’t aged well? That would be Owl City’s 2009 LP, Ocean Eyes. Owl City is somehow still a thing, but I remember when Owl City first started. Adam Young, the man behind the moniker, had an EP, and a debut album, at I’ve heard, but he really his stride with his sophomore LP, Ocean Eyes, as that was his debut major label project. The other two records he released were indie and underground records, but he definitely got his break with Ocean Eyes. “Fireflies,” the big single from the album (which is somehow a meme eight years later), is the one that you’ve probably heard, and that’s the first song I ever heard from Owl City, as well as this LP. Back in the day, iTunes would have a free song of the week, usually to promote a random unknown band that was just releasing a new album. Owl City was just releasing Ocean Eyes, and “Fireflies” is the song that sort of took off. It wasn’t a huge song, or anything like that, but it got moderate success. I was around fifteen when this album came out, and back in that time, I was super into Never Shout Never, Owl City, and all of these “one-man-band” projects that had swoopy-haired frontman. I desperately wanted to be one of those guys, and Ocean Eyes is a very nostalgic album for me.

Too bad it hasn’t aged well, though. I’ve given the album a couple listens, and man, it hasn’t aged well at all. That’s not to say there aren’t some things that I like about this album, but there’s not much. The lyrics on this thing are very, very creative, as well as “punny,” for the lack of a better word, but they do rely on a lot of “dad jokes,” so if you’re not into very cheesy, silly, and dumb puns, you’re not going to like them at all. I do like the creative use of language and play on words, though, so they’re fun. There’s nothing offensive or insulting in the lyrics, either, as they’re very harmless and sweet. I mean, there’s a song about going to the dentist. Yeah, you’re not going to find any cursing or PA stickers on his albums. That’s the thing about the lyrics, though – they’re very G-rated, but they’re also not all that interesting a lot of the time. They’re creative, sure, but they don’t necessarily do anything or say anything. That’s if you can even get past Young’s really annoying voice. Well, no, that’s unfair to say, because his voice isn’t annoying, per se, it’s just that his tone is tone is so one-note. He’s so monotone, flat, and boring as a vocalist. The lyrics are fine, and they’re admittedly enjoyable, but even back then, I couldn’t quite get into his vocals that much. I really can’t now, but they’re not the worst thing ever. They’re not awful, per se, but they’re boring. The instrumentation can be fun, too, though. I like the whole electronic thing he’s got going on, but it does sound a bit dated, though. This definitely sounds like it was from the mid-00s, and not in a charming way, either. I mean, the hooks are pretty infectious, and there are some tracks that have a nice groove to them, but nothing on this LP is all that great, especially in retrospect. I can understand why I liked this, though, but I don’t quite like it as much as I did back then.

I don’t hate this record, by any means, but this is one of those albums that I kept purely for nostalgia. I’ve got a whole bunch of albums that I don’t listen to anymore, solely because I know that it wouldn’t hold up as well. I keep the albums, though, because they have a soft spot in my heart. This is one of those albums, because I remember a simpler time when I was into this LP. This album isn’t horrible, or anything close to that, but it’s got a dated sound to it, and yeah, I can see why “Fireflies” is a meme (even though it’s weird that it’s eight years later, but meme culture wasn’t really a thing back then). Ocean Eyes does have sound good stuff in it, as I like the lyrics a lot of the time, and the sound can be catchy, fun, and energetic. With that said, though, I’m a sucker for “dad jokes,” and if you’re not a fan of dad jokes, the lyrics will be unbearable for you. I don’t mind them at all. I don’t like Young’s voice, though, and it’s not good. He’s not bad, per se, but he’s so lackluster and monotone. His voice is so flat. I could never really get into it, even back then, but now I’m really noticing it. Ocean Eyes is a rather nostalgic for me, though, and it’s good that I came back to this LP. It’s the only album of Owl City’s that I’ve kept over the years, and truth be told, it’s the only one worth listening to. I would say that would be a “savage” thing to say, especially among the fanbase, but what fanbase? Does Owl City still have fans? Okay, I’m sure he does, but his stuff isn’t very good. This is the only album of his that I’ve come back to the most, especially back in the time that I really liked Owl City. I didn’t like much of his other albums, to be honest, and even this one hasn’t aged the best. I can’t imagine what his other albums are like. I wouldn’t necessarily tell someone not to listen to this, because it’s got some good songs, but this album hasn’t aged as well as other albums that I’ve been into.