#drums go *dun dun dun*

[teeentyonepilots]

The pilots have been spotted filming a music video with Josh up on a bridge and Tyler lurking underneath

[autistickfigure]

i forgot how to play rain world

[rizsu]

the aftermath of being turned into an ex jujutsu kaisen — gojo satoru.

gojo's a man of commitment. if rounding up a ‘band’ to serenade you into taking him back is what'll do the trick, then he'll organize it.

+ extra. this is meant to be unserious dont attack me for mischaracterization n shi 😞

“we're done.”

“we are not!”

in the end, he got kicked out. due to the shame he felt by being kicked out of a house he once lived in, satoru actually leaves. don't party too soon though, he's going to come back within five hours.

the plan he had in mind was simple: go to the department store, buy some roses, a poster, led lights, a table, some chocolates, and hire a band. for this the budget will be endless.

you thought you got rid of satoru but little did you know that he still has his share of keys. with that trick up his sleeve, he unlocks the gate, sneaking in everyone and the props.

satoru wasn't able to hire a band, but he was able to get a substitute. you see, todo, inumaki, and yuuji have hidden talents. they can all play instruments and one can sing! he always knew there was a reason why he's proud of his students.

quietly, the four men set the stage that's actually your front yard. in the center holds the white table with a black satin cloth delicately placed on it. the three bouquets of roses sit beautifully on the table. some petals were picked out and carefully spotted as well. on the table's center held the chocolate and wine — your favourite wine, to be exact. the finishing touch is the led lights. they're circling the ground, illuminating it with a soft yellow glow.

at the right and left sides of the table are inumaki and yuuji. inumaki's holding a wooden guitar while yuuji holds the hand drum. todo's position is in front of the table but a little off-center. he's holding the microphone, ready to pour his heart out on the song.

the star, satoru, is the one in the center. one hand hides behind his back. it's holding another rose bouquet with hundred-dollar bills wrapped with the roses. his free hand holds his phone. as soon as the clock strikes 7:00PM, he's going to call you. everything should play out perfectly.

anxiously watching his wristwatch switch from 6:59 to 7:00, he immediately calls you. one, two, three, six rings later you answered.

“you. i forgot to block you.”

“excuse me?” satoru scoffs, “whatever, i'm not calling for that.”

“chop chop then. i don't have all night.”

“can you come outside?”

“no. i will be calling the police.”

“OH C'MON,” he whines, getting desperate. “please? after this i'll leave you alone. promise.”

“...”

yuuji painfully watches. he feels incredibly sorry for his teacher. he doesn't deserve this!

“i don't think this is going good,” yuuji whispers to the boys, moving his head side-to-side.

todo raises his fist, gesturing to the boys to have some faith. “let's put our hopes high.”

they watch satoru closely. his hand that held the phone dramatically dropped to his side. slowly, he turns his head to face the boys behind him. his face breaks their hearts. he's pouting with eyes nearing tears — a pain only males like them can understand!

before satoru can say something, the front door clicks open. as it swings open aggressively, you made yourself tonight's main star unwillingly. you were not dressed for whatever this occasion is. your front yard has been ruined, your ex is there, three of his students you've met a few times, and while they're in suits, you're in a fancy robe with fluffy indoor slippers.

your eyebrows crease together, just when did they do all of this?! maybe it's time to install cameras.

“satoru, what the fuck did you do to my—”

“shh, tonight it's just you and him,” todo cuts you off, switching the mic on and beginning his performance. inumaki tunes the guitar and starts stringing random strings in hopes that they sound good. yuuji follows by tapping a simple “dun-da-da-dun-dun” beat on the drums.

your mouth's now opened. baffled by the sight, you stood there motionless.

“i have died every day waiting for you~”

as todo sings, satoru walks up to you, cheekily smiling at your shocked expression.

you back away from him, eyebrows still furrowed at whatever's going on.

“darling, don't be afraid~”

at this lyric, satoru takes the opportunity to shove his phone back into his pocket and grab your wrist. although you attempted to wriggle free, you are no match for his strength. gently, he pulls you into the yard.

both your eyes lock on each other. you search his eyes for emotions, he searches yours for any signs of longing. it's not there, he thinks. he feels a pinch in his heart, but it won't stop him. sending you a wink, he pulls you closer to the table.

“i have loved you for a thousand years (ooh)~”

“seriously, what's all this bullshit?!” you whisper-yelled at him, using your other hand to point at the table.

satoru simply shrugs.

“i'll love you for a thou-sand more (ooh, yeah)~”

todo ends his singing, clapping along with the other two to end the performance. it was the most touching thing he's ever done besides gifting yuuji and his idol a trio matching keychains set.

satoru coughs three times in attempts to hide his laugh. this has probably been the most unserious yet serious he's ever been, but his perfomance doesn't end there. he still has something else to whip out.

“baby—”

“that's not my name,” you cut him off.

“anyway. as i was saying,” he stops, revealing the rose bouquet with multiple hundred-dollar bills. “all of these are yours.”

your eyes bulge, but you quickly regain yourself.

“i'm not going to be won over with some roses and money.”

“there's wine and chocolates too,” yuuji says, immediately shutting up after you shot him a look.

inumaki stands awkwardly. he feels immense second-hand embarrassment. to counter such feelings, he starts playing the guitar again.

satoru cups the side of your face with his hand. his thumb caresses your cheek as he locks his eyes on yours again.

“i was serious about not breaking up, y'know,” he softly speaks, “i know i'm pushing it and all that stuff but i don't think i can leave you.”

it's once again your turn to be speechless. at this point, you're sure that there's no way all of this is happening in one night.

since you won't take hold of the bouquet, satoru places it in your hand. to solidify it even more, he lifts your other hand to place a kiss on it.

“what level of romance is this?” again, yuuji speaks. this time, it's satoru who gestures him to quiet down.

inumaki's still playing the out-of-tune guitar, enjoying the way the wind gently blows. it's truly a beautiful night. under the full moon's light, you and satoru glow together.

todo gears up for another round of singing. he immediately does a dragged-out “ooh~” adlib. this, however, wasn't going to last as long as his previous one did.

“NO — no more, please. you have a wonderful voice but i've heard enough. please.” you turned around to todo, begging him to mute the mic and possibly himself.

“and you,” you turn back to face satoru, “clean this up, get the boys home safely, and then come back.”

after that, you walked back to inside your house with the bouquet, making it satoru's turn to be left speechless. he still didn't win you over with some roses and money (wine and chocolates too) but his stupid commitment to keeping the relationship is what did.

[slavghoul]

Thinking about the drum leitmotif in Cirice. The 'dun-dun' sound appearing throughout the song, you know. Imitating not only a thunder but also heartbeat, as it's always an eighth note.

When Papa asks 'Can you hear the rumble?' for the first time, the drum is not there. When he asks again, 'Can you hear the rumble that's calling?' it's there and at the foreground too, impossible not to hear. The thunder in your heart.

Perhaps it's always been there but you never realized until he told you to listen to it. Or maybe he only wants you to think it's there. Either way, you are paying attention now.

He extends his hand and you accept it.

Going further, at 2:14 there is a sudden change in the dynamic range. We only hear the piano, the drum (less prominent now), and Papa's voice. The minimalist instrumentalisation makes the whole experience feel very intimate. It feels as if Papa is speaking directly to you. There is no one else.

You are entwined together.

The verbiage he uses now further strengthens this feeling - you and I see eye to eye; now there is nothing between us, from now our merge is eternal. The words feel like a warm embrace, a comfort.

Except... he is manipulating you. Isolating you. Coercing you into forming this emotional bond.

Notice how the music constructs an emotional setting within this context when at around 3:20 a sudden dramatic break occurs. Papa asks, 'Can't you see that you're lost?' and almost all the music goes dead. This is what it feels like to be alone. No sound, no warm embrace, no comfort. Nothingness. 'Can't you see that you're lost without me?' This will be your life if you don't follow him.

But you will. Because he just convinced you there is no one else.

[riality-check]

Steve feels something hit his legs and clatter to the floor. He doesn't look at whatever hit him; he looks at Eddie, across the room.

"Did you just throw something at me?"

"No," Eddie lies, arm still extended.

Steve rolls his eyes at him, then looks down at the floor, where two drum sticks are laying at his feet. "What-"

"Outside," Eddie says, and he doesn't even wait for Steve to get up before he starts running for the door.

Steve sighs, but he picks up the sticks and follows, admittedly at a slower pace.

Outside is cold as shit. The wind blows Steve a little sideways, but Eddie doesn't seem bothered. He stands, arms out, showing off the open back doors of his van.

The entire back seat is occupied by a drum kit. It's cramped as hell, but Steve thinks there's a little stool wedged in there and just enough room for a person.

"Eddie, what-"

"Tell me if i'm going too far," Eddie says, "but you mentioned wanting to pick up something new, and I figured this might be okay."

Steve doesn't know how to say thank you to that, so he says, "Gareth is gonna kill you."

"Nah," Eddie says with a smile. "I’ve borrowed the set before. He knows where it is."

"I don't know how to play drums."

"Neither do I," Eddie says. "Let's figure it out."

He bows dramatically, prompting Steve to enter the van. He does so with a light shove on Eddie's shoulder.

He almost bangs his head on the roof, but eventually he gets situated in the midst of all the drums.

He's not sure where to start. He ignores his hands shaking.

Because that’s a thing they do now. They shake all the time, anywhere from a little rattle to a tremor so bad he can’t hold anything.

Steve hates it. He balls his hands into fits and takes a deep breath.

"Now, I've never actually played," Eddie says, sitting on the edge of the van floor, facing Steve. "But I’ve watched Gareth enough. Start with the bass drum, the one by your foot."

Steve tentatively steps on the pedal. It makes a soft thud. He does it again and again, starting up a steady beat.

"Good," Eddie says, and his enthusiasm for something so simple is so contagious, Steve can't help but smile. "If you want to use your other foot, you can step on the high hat. It should be to your left.”

Steve keeps his right foot going on the bass and his left starts a dun dun-dun, dun dun-dun on the high hat. He looks at eddie, who's got his eyes closed and is humming something.

Eddie cracks his eyes open. "Sorry, force of habit. Just thinking about a guitar part for this."

Steve laughs. Of course he is.

"You can do whatever with the sticks," Eddie says. "Just do what sounds right. You’re not gonna break the drums, not if you don't try to."

Steve takes a breath and tries.

It's hard, trying to keep everything going at once. He steps off the high hat and focuses on keeping the bass drum going in time with his sticks.

Eddie calls out rhythms for him to try, and Steve does his best to parrot them. His hands are still shaking, but the stutter they make on the drums sounds cool.

It sounds unique. It sounds good.

He definitely isn't holding the sticks right. It doesn't matter.

When he feels brave, he tries out a solo. He just goes, not caring about the rhythms at all, just doing what feels good. It’s loud and he can't think, he just goes and goes and goes until his head is just sticks and cymbals.

When he's done, he's panting for breath, and Eddie is smiling at him like he hung the moon and stars.

"I think you need your own set, Stevie," he says.

Steve thinks so, too.

[somethinginworl]

so I saw your playing eldrich horror Kirby straight gajinka’s and now I’m going to raise you….

ahem drum roll anyone?

Galacta Knight

Dun dun dunnn

for your muse’s entertainment but of course

ps your elfilis is amazing and freaky but amazing and I like poking muse’s with a metaphorical stick muse pin ball anyone? -stick gremlin

I have no idea what that last phrase means but thanks for the inspo anon! Now there shall be Alien hair-shapeshifting Galacta!

[blucassiopeia]

Liar

"A prelude spin-off for an upcoming fic"

warnings: afab!reader, angst, comfort, hot violent semi, singer!reader

A Semi Eita x reader one shot or maybe not one shot

a/n: nervous about my first one shot.. criticisms will be accepted. it'll make me improve my works.

Semi groaned at the start of his day, smashing his eagle-designed alarm clock at his night table. He thought it was stupid for his highschool volleyball teammates to have a matching alarm clock that's so annoyingly loud every morning. He glared at it as he made his way to his bath.

It's a start of an another stressful dayーmorphed to a normal one because of the repetitive occurences. Brief sched meetings, interviews, band practices, photoshoots, recordings and repeat. But not on weekends though. On weekends, he can say that he can breathe even though he's basked in his popularity and non-existent privacy.

There's no remorse with this kind of life whatsoever. It's his way to cope up, to keep him busy, to drive himself away from his thoughts of her. A woman that's not you.

You saw her for the first time when Semi's management had to contact you for a very special event you're going to perform with him. You thought it was a recording or a mini event on malls, anything was on mind but a wedding.

"A wedding?"

You remembered how he stared at you with tired eyes, drumming his pen on the table in front of his slouching figure. He hummed a minute after and closed his eyes, massaged his temples and brows.

"Look, I really need to perform a song. I need it to be perfect. And I need a counterpart, and a co-singer for the... event." He made the last word sound so bitter in his tongue.

Semi is known is the music industry for his talentsーthough he has a band second to being also a singer-songwriter, and he has you for a fan. It's a secret you swear to God no one shall know because you're kinda shy and awestruck right now. He's also known as a friendly and approachable one in front of the cams, but so cold and distant off-cam. Workaholic.

"But why me?"

"The management picked you. Ask them. So..? Will you or will you not?"

You scowled at his tone. He shall ask you nicely. But, offers like this wouldn't come by often and it'll be a boost in your career if you'll do it with Semi, so the next day,¹ you started practicing with him in his studio.

Semi's songs are often emotional, and if you knew better, he's addressing it to someone special. But you never imagined him and his eyes glazing over at this particular song you've been practicing now for two days.

"I'm sorry. Can we have a break?"

His voice close to hitching, he's gulping so hard and can't seem to focus his eyes. He exited his studio and went somewhere else inside this condo of his, and you were met with silence. You sighed and looked around.

Pictures were scattered in his corkboard, you were drawn onto it. Volleyball. His teammates. Training camps. College. Trips. A golden-haired girl. More of it. More of her.

Slices of Semi's life in front of you. What a pleasure to be here.

You continued the practices with him steeling his resolve to finish the songs without having to take breaks in between. The wedding is nearing and he had prepared everything for you. All you have left to do is to be with him, stay by his side throughout the length of the event and sing with him.

You have seen pro-volleyball players in the venue, and a lot more familiar faces from his friends. The newly-wedded couple was gorgeous and loving, until you realized that the girl in Semi's pictures were the same as the one in front of you.

"Semi-saaan! Is she your date?" Her eyes full of amazement and excitement dunned over Semi that's having a hand on your waist, you felt it froze and gripped.

"Hm. Isn't that obvious? I can't attend some event like this without a date." Liar.

"Oi! Semi! Invite me in your wedding too, okay?" The groom spoke in between his conversation with the other men in his side.

"Of course!" That smile he flashes are fake. Liar.

The first dance of the wedded couple is on and this is the time where you and Semi had to the work you've been practicing on. The rhythm starts and throughout those songs, all you see is a heartbroken Semi in front of his mic, gazing at the bride. It's showinv in his voice that you had to hold his hand to get his attention. He tried to give you eye contact but it's unsuccessful. His gazes always flying back to where his heart is.

"Tsukishima Ran, am I going to call you now with his surname? You're still ugly." Laughs were all over the venue when he said that, few hoots and cheers on their high school friends.

"I just wanna say one thing coz I don't wanna make this long. Man, I know you'll make her happy so I'm just gonna ask you not to leave her. Cherish her more each passing day. It'll be easy for you, it's in your vows. And please, let me hang out with your kids in the future, I'm gonna teach them how to be like me. Bestest wishes to the both of you and more poops in the future." Laughs erupted again as Semi passed the mic on the emcee.

The rest of the night were worse, you watching Semi that's watching the bride from afar. You had to say something. "Why didn't you?"

"It's not in the agreement to talk about my life, Y/n." You shivered at his cold tone and never dared to speak again till the end of the event.

And it was the last time you had sang with Semi, or even talked with him. Whenever you find yourselves in the same room, he avoids you with all his might.

You had listened to his every song you have 3 favorites now, you picked his interest in volleyball, even watched league matches live, and swinging by his condo, just to be shut out by him. You were worried for him. You knew he needs someone to talk to, someone to share his problems and dilemmas with. You. He needs you.

You're in love with the broken Semi Eita.

And he's oblivious to that fact. He walked out of his condo just to find another goodies placed in his doorway inside a basket. He huffs and brought it inside with the others and started his routine again. He has to keep moving to be preoccupied. He has to be so tired that when he comes home later that night, he'll just plop to his bed and straight to sleep, not having space for unnecessary thoughts.

It was already a year and the woman he love already gave birth to twins. She's still as beautiful as the day he met her, still as radiant and adorable. He wanted to visit her and her kids, but he has to be kind to himself and heal first before showing up.

Like that'll help, he thought.

Whenever he sees you in his space, whenever, he'll be reminded of that day he gave up taking chances on the love of his life. Whenever he sees you, he's smacked by the fact that he'll never move on from her. Whenever he sees you, he'll feel how broken he is. You bring him pain, and he's avoiding you because of that.

"Leave me alone. I don't need to see you every fucking time. I don't want to see you after this. Please. Get away from me." He said one time when he found you again in his door, bringing your usual goodies.

"Liar."

That word sent a sharp pain to Semi as he stared at you, jaw dropped.

"You have been lying to yourself since that wedding, Semi Eita. When will you stop?"

He can't comprehend your words, faltered by his shock and disbelief, and anger arising. He felt his blood boil and dragged you inside and closed the door. You saw how his condo changed from the last time you've been here. Your eyes stopped wondering at the punch he gave to the door behind you.

"Who do you think you are to say those words to me? What do you know about me? You know nothing. Stop pestering me and get the hell out of my life!"

"Liar." Why did you drag me in, then? You wanted to say that. But not now that his eyes were blazing, but you can't back down. There's still that something in him that magnetizes you, something..

"Stop calling me a liar! You don't know what I've been through so stop calling me that!"

"Stop lying, then!" You snapped back at him. Both of you were breathing heavy, his breath fanning in your face.

The tension was stagnant for a while, you're not daring to back down from his hateful glares. He was growling, you're sure if you're not a girl you would be across his genkan by now because of his anger.

That was just cut off by his phone ringing. He slammed the door once and went straight to his living room to talk to the caller. That was your chance to breathe. Fuck, he was so close.

"Ran?" He paused and shuts his eyes close, throat bobbing. "Yea, I almost forgot, it's Saturday. I'm sorry. Gonna be there in 15." His voice was hoarse when he spoke. "Hm, I'm okay. Yes.ーyes."

Then he dropped the call and went straight to youーno, to the door behind you to open it, ignoring your presence. You don't wanna be locked out alone in his condo so you immediately slithered your way out before he closes the door. He groaned and left you, yet you followed him.

You know you'll follow him anywhere.

He was so fucked out when you followed him even to Ran's house. The moment you stepped out of your own carーto which was not your plan because you planned on riding his car forcefullyーhe managed to get a hold of your elbow and gripped it tight sending you shots of pain you whimpered.

"I told you to stay away from me, Y/n! Why did you follow me all the way here!?"

"You'll be putting yourself in danger."

He blinked once and you felt his grip loosened for a second. There was a swift wave of falter on his raged expression.

"For the last time, PLEASE stay away from me! Stop following me around! I don't want you near me! PLEASE!"

"Not a chance, Semi. If you can't fix yourself, then I will do it myself. You're not getting rid of me coz I'm not gonna give up until you take that fucking mask off your face!"

That day you stormed inside a house uninvited, Semi knew it was impossible to push you away. That day when you talked with Ran that you'll be with him babysitting her kids, Semi regretted he dragged you to his world. That day you squealed upon gazing at the twins, he knew he was doomed. That day when he saw you carrying one of the twins he's supposed to be babysitting, for a brief second, he wanted to be true to himself. Not to Ran, but to you.

Sugawara Koshi | Kuroo Tetsurou | Akaashi Keiji | Sakusa Kiyoomi | Kageyama Tobio | Oikawa Tooru

Reblogs and interactions are appreciated. Theories will be entertained. Cassie 2023.

[royboyfanpage]

A tumblr version of my fic because I wanna keep all my masterpost posts on this blog.

It’s a strange sense, a feeling he hasn’t felt in… maybe ever. The feeling of completion, of having everything he needed. Sat in the dark on his faded once-blue-now-grey second hand couch, burn marks in the arm left over from some sleepless nights covered up by finger-painted smiles, the scent of pumpkins and cinnamon and candy apples wafting through the air, Roy realised he’d never felt so whole, so content. The familiar weight of the girl in his arms, the occasional nudge against his leg as the boy on the floor tilts his head to get a better look at the TV, the sensations grounding, a reminder that tonight, he’s with the two people who mean the most to him in this world. Lian’s cheeks were smudged with pumpkin juice from digging out the jack-o-lantern’s insides, but Roy didn’t have the energy to attempt to wrangle the toddler long enough to clean it. Grant’s hair was plaited, pumpkin-shaped clips holding it in place. The two kids, his daughter, and his… something. Roy would never name him. Maybe he needed to, maybe saying it would be the worst thing he could do. Maybe fatherhood was too polluted for the boy, maybe the concept of being a ‘son’ was too damaged- the legacy of a dead man, the prey of a monster. Maybe, maybe, maybe, but no absolutes. His daughter’s brother, undoubtedly, Lian’d called him her brother herself, but the implications of what that made Roy were never addressed. That swell of pride whenever Grant got his powers under control, that squeeze in his chest so tight it hurt whenever the boy’d go to him for a hug, it didn’t need to be mentioned. Roy didn’t need to be named, didn’t need a tangible place in Grant’s life. Roy was there, and that was what mattered.

“Roy, pay attention, this is the best bit!” Grant snaps Roy out of his thoughts with an enthusiastic tapping on his knee, pointing to the TV. Some 80s Goonies-esque kids’ comedy horror was on, one of the few Lian-friendly (and Roy-friendly, though he’d never admit that he couldn’t stand horror any more than his three year old daughter) Halloween movies Grant had in his suggestions. Lian was already asleep, her face squished against Roy’s chest. Fortunately, the girl didn’t have much of a sweet tooth, so the forsaken sugar-rush had been avoided. Roy leaned his head back against the headrest, blinking slowly to try and keep his own eyes open.

“Yuh-huh, I’m watching,” Roy yawned, trying his best to fake interest in the… mass exorcism? He’d kinda zoned out after the part with the werewolf in the Police station, and the plot of the film had been lost in the process. Despite having no idea what was happening, Roy still attempted to pretend for Grant’s sake. “Oh, look, they’re finally gonna get, uh Frankenstein.”

Grant turned around with an appalled expression, his eyebrows shot up in alarm. “Frank’s one of the good guys! Have you even been watching?”

Great. Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say. “This film’s pro-Frankenstein? I thought he was a monster. That seems like a weird stance.”

“Yeah, duh it’s pro-Frankenstein’s monster. He’s never been a bad guy.”

“He hasn’t? He’s a monster, right?”

Grant sighed in exasperation, pulling his legs up to his chest in that ‘I think what you said is stupid and I’m not gonna humour you with a response’ pose Roy’d seen an almost hilarious amount of times since the kid first came to live with him, resting his chin on his knees. Roy sighed in solidarity and leaned back in his seat, swallowed by the unfathomably plush cushions (thanks, Flasher, for donating furniture so padded that Lian could get lost in the cracks.) His fingers drummed against the arm to an unknown rhythm, some song that might have gone ‘dun dun dun dun, dun dun’, but could just as well have gone ‘dun, dun, dun, dun dun dun’, and Grant tapped his foot to the silent symphony. Lian’s quiet snoring played the bass. It was a better song than Great Frog ever made, anyway.

“Roy? Roy. Roy!” Grant smacked his guardian’s arm, waking the archer from a slumber he hadn’t even realised he’d succumbed to. Glazed eyes adjusted to the new darkness now the film was off, spotting the absence of plates or wrappers which had littered the coffee table last time Roy was aware of his surroundings.

“Wh- what time’s it, kid?” Roy yawned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with the hand not cradling Lian. He didn’t wait for Grant to answer before checking his watch, and gawked at the ‘XII’ that stared at him. “Midnight? Jesus, you should’a woken me earlier.”

“I would’ve, but popular media says it’s a bad idea to wake the dead,” Grant grinned at his own joke, flopping down on the couch next to Roy.

“Very funny. D’you clean up in here?”

Grant shrugged. “Yeah, a bit.”

“You know you don’t have to, right? Like, I don’t- it isn’t an expectation or a requirement.”

“I know, but I wanted to.”

That, Roy couldn’t argue with. But there was still that doubt, that fear of intentions, of motivations. He was never entirely sure if Grant was doing something because he wanted to, or because he felt he had to, whether his helpfulness was just him being a good kid or if it was a fear that if he didn’t pull his weight he’d be cast aside. Roy’d felt exactly that when he was Grant’s age, that fear that if he didn’t work hard enough as Speedy, if he didn’t manage to hold his own beside Wally and Donna, he’d be cast aside and forgotten and- well, you already know how that turned out.

Lian wriggled slightly in her slumber, snapping Roy out of his thoughts. With the amounts of tangents his brain’s gone off on the last few months, you’d think he were Dick Grayson. He stood, his back cracking as he rose to his feet (which, since when did back cracking start at 25? He’d need to have a word with whoever designed the human spine. Ha.) and gently lifted Lian with him.

“You should get to bed, kid, it’s late,” Roy whispered so as to not disturb the sleeping toddler, offering a small smile to Grant. Grant just shrugged in response as Roy carried Lian to her room, resting the girl on his hip while he moved the full wardrobe of costume choices she’d gone through before finally settling on a very tiny Agent Smith from the bed onto the floor.

“Night, Etai Yazi,” He smiled, gently settling her in bed and tucking her blankets around her. He positioned her raccoon plush between her arms, and the small girl instinctively squished her cheek against it. With one last check to ensure her comfort, and that she was far enough from the edge to prevent her falling out, Roy switched on the nightlight and closed the door to Lian’s room.

Grant was still sitting on the couch, staring at the black television screen with that face that meant he was getting in his own head about something, just barely visible from the jack o’lantern light. Roy crossed the room at an easy pace so as to not disturb the teenager, sitting down on the other side of the vampire-dressed boy.

“Kid, it’s midnight. You wanna head to bed?”

Grant shook his head. “It’s not midnight yet, there’s still a minute left.”

Roy stared in mild confusion, but didn’t comment. He’d been looking forward to Halloween for weeks, even going so far as to hand-make little pumpkin chains to hang around the walls and some spooky paper arrows (a compromise for bats; Roy’s not decorating his house in Bruce Wayne propaganda) which he’d blu-tacked to the walls. Maybe he wanted to celebrate every second of the holiday. So Roy just leaned back, his hands crossed over his stomach, and watched with Grant as the seconds ticked by.

As the second, minute, and hour hands finally connected at the XII, Grant leaned over the side of the couch, fumbling underneath it for a moment, before pulling out a small box wrapped in red and yellow paper.

“What’s this?” Roy raised an eyebrow, turning the gift over in his hand. It was light, but not weightless- maybe something metal? Or perhaps a hard piece of plastic.

“It’s a birthday present.”

“Since when do you know my birthday?”

“Tempest told Jesse, and she told me.”

“Since when does Garth know my birthday?”

“Roy!” Grant sighed in exasperation, slapping his guardian on the arm.

“Alright, alright,” Roy smiled, carefully unwrapping the paper. The gift was wrapped with precision, so he took his time unwrapping it so he didn’t rip it.

“A box! Just what I always wanted,” He grinned, earning a groan in response.

“Open the box!” Grant whined, and Roy laughed at his impatience.

“Y’know, technically I’m not twenty-six until eleven-”

“Roy!” Grant smacked him again, making Roy laugh harder. Nevertheless, he decided to stop teasing for now, just because the anticipation was so thick it was practically cologne. With only the slightest pause for dramatic effect, Roy lifted the lid of the white cardboard box.

Inside lay a small plastic figure of a bow. No, not just any bow, Roy’s bow, without even the slightest doubt. The red compound was the spitting image of his own, even down to the small white blue stains from forgetting to put it away when he painted the kitchen and the leftover paper from one of Lian’s stickers he’d never managed to entirely remove. Roy stared at the figure in awe, turning it over in his hand and inspecting the details.

“D’you like it?” Grant asked tentatively, and Roy’s heart ached at the look on his face, the hesitation as he waited for the ball to drop, waited for Roy to reprimand him or tell him to put more effort into it.

“Kid- I love it. You made this?” Roy kept his voice soft, glancing between the bow and the boy. Grant’s eyes widened ever so slightly at the unexpected praise, and he nodded slightly.

“Yeah, uh, I mean, I used Nightwing’s 3D printer for, um, actually making it, but- but I made the 3D model and painted it.”

“It’s perfect,” Roy smiled, pulling Grant into a hug. Grant stiffened slightly at first, but relaxed into the embrace after a moment’s pause, resting his chin on Roy’s shoulder.

Maybe the sense’s not so strange. Maybe every other emotion he’d felt the rest of his life was unnatural. Because in that moment, Roy felt a sense of familiarity, like he’d never had a life without Grant in it. Maybe the wordless boy didn’t need to be so wordless after all.

Damn it all to hell. That’s my son.

[starborn15]

Outlander Parallels to Acotar

Ramiel —> Craig na Dun

Abandawe —> Starlight pool.

Let’s chat Ramiel & The Blood Rite: Spoilers for Outlander so if you haven’t watched it scroll past if you care.

In outlander there is another “traveler” besides Claire names Gaellis. Gaellis after first seems kind, she’s a friend to Claire and assist her even saves her life during the Witch trials of season two, but then we see her in the future after she’s murdered her husband because she believes in addition to needing gems to pass through the stones (maybe I’ll post about that later) you need a blood sacrifice.

Hmmmm sound familiar?

The blood rite only occurs on one night a year where the Illyrians slaughter each other in an attempt to reach the monolith at the top to honor Enalius which is odd because…Enalius was preventing the Asteri from reaching the top wasn’t he? Anyway; this parallel is so interesting, what if the Illyrians believe blood must be spilled in order for their magic to be freed for them to be worthy enough to pass through the stone or “monolith” to take them whenever they need to go. Just like Gaellis in Outlander who believed through a blood sacrifice she could continue to go back in time without repercussions.

Now after Seasons 1 & 2 we don’t see Gaellis in the past for some time until Claire and Jamie see her again in Jamaica where she is still trying to “free Scotland from British rule.” She’s living at Rose Hall (yes you heard me) and she’s once again using blood sacrifice to try and travel through the stones while manipulating a seer to tell her what to do 👀. Jamie and Claire interrupt a ceremony where the local people of Jamaica are beating drums and dancing around a large pyre ( 😏) and she asks where Abandawe is and it leads them to a cave where Claire hears the “buzzing” as she does near Craig Na Duhn. There they find Gaellis and Claire realizes here it is not the stones that transport through time, but a pool within the cave. Sound familiar????

“What is this place?” I said still running my fingers through the grass. Out of the corner of my eye Tamlin was a glowing figure beside me. “Just a glen.” Beside us Lucien snorted.

In outlander however Abandawe is a bad place, which perhaps was also hinted at:

“…legend claims you’d be happy until your last breath.”

So perhaps the pool of starlight in the Spring Court is indeed, a portal. As is the monolith on top of ramiel; per Rigelsus in HOSAB who says their people left many doorways in Bryce’s home world.

[giggly-squiggily]

Another Given request!!!! (I’m so predictable have you noticed that? 🤣) Anyways, this one I KNOW you’ll love!! It’s a group tickle with poor Mafuyu as the Lee!, with the sentence starter 🧡 Always and Forever!

I had this idea that the band was watching one of their old concerts and Uenoyama decides to mimic his old guitar solo… on Mafuyu! He just tickles him and pretends he’s playing and the others join in, finding a tickle spot and mimicking their own music from the concert 🤣 (all gently of course Mafuyu is a sensitive guy 🥰) Enjoy this and don’t forget to drink water and take your time!

AHH! *jumps around in glee cause I love this prompt so much* YESH! Yes, yes absolutely yes! I love lee!Mafuyu holy kjeajkrkjaerjk I've gotcha covered, friend! :D (No worries- I am staying hydrated always!)

Always and Forever: "Look how red you are! How cute!"

“Shh, Mafuyu.”

“I cahahahn’t!”

Akihiko and Haruki looked up, grinning at the sight before them. They were all gathered together watching back last weekend’s performance; argumentatively their best one yet. At some point Mafuyu had sprawled himself across his boyfriend’s lap, unintentionally putting himself in Uenoyama’s crosshairs.

“Why? Surely, this isn’t that funny, is it?” His boyfriend asked with a teasy grin, his fingers flicking and scratching against his belly as he mimicked his video self. “Oh, this is the good part- pay attention; it’s really complicated.” A series of quick flicks had Mafuyu squeaking in mirth, grabbing at his hands. “Aww, why’d you stop me?”

“Pfft, you thought that part was complicated?” Haruki tittered, gathering Mafuyu’s leg up in his lap, positioning his fingers along his knee. “My part is way more complex! Check this out- dun dun dun dundun dun!” Haruki mimed, scratching vigorously along the redhead’s leg and sending him cackling. “See? Way more intense!”

“Nah, you’re both wrong. My part’s way harder.” Akihiko had stood, coming around to Mafuyu’s shoulders and neck as he pressed his hands into them, earning a startled squeal. “Oh, sorry- cold hands. Here, warm them up for me.” He began to “drum” his fingers along his neck, earning even more squeals and laughs. “See? I keep the song going!”

“You sure do, but I still think my part’s way cooler.” Uenoyama snickered, almost muted by his boyfriend’s giggle fits. The three of them continued to “bicker” over their parts, their fingers never ceasing their tickly touches along the redhead’s squirming frame. Eventually, Mafuyu had enough.

“Yohohohohou’re all cohohohoohohohool! Now stahhahhahap!” He cried out, gasping for air when the tickles finally ended. Curling up further in Uenoyama’s lap, he let out a giggly sigh. “Thahahnk you.”

“Pfft- look how red you are! You’re so cute.” Uenoyama laughed, leaning down and kissing his boyfriend’s pink cheek as Akihiko and Haruki mock swooned, making kissy faces at each other and laughing when Uenoyama flipped them off.

Mafuyu snuggled happily against him, happy to be with everybody.

Send me a candy heart and I'll write a dabble for it!

[tropiyas]

martin o'donnell panel notes (he broke down the Halo CE theme with a music analysis youtuber 12Tone)

was for mac showcase

no audio engine - had to play it in sync manually via audio

knew they wanted orchestra + singing

orchestra: 4 violin 2 cello

vocals: him + 3 guys who did mr clean jingle

backing tracks (percussion etc) were samples

they wanted gregorian/ancient from the start

the start hook-y melody decision (the chant):

4 phrases inspired by....... yesterday paul mccartney.... in dorian scale

dorian scale recap: just the minor scale except a raised 6th (lowkey removes the somber darkness and makes it more ambiguous towards excitement(?))

q: why?

a: atmosphere for halo - ancient+epic+mysterious

he friends with koji kondo and other composers

most music was platform dependent back then (understandable, 8bit and other restrictions) - he didn't like those limitations so mostly jumped in when Halo / Mac / late 90s music could be more like Film

big cello fan

*deserved

Halo CE theme breakdown:

Vibe - ancient+epic+mysterious obv but then

check it out - it was NOT really a fully fledged idea intentionally at first, not even meant to be THE Halo theme - originally it was just a Showcase piece for the Mac World. Funny how that works out!!!!

master chief was originally Future Soldier (more of a hero unit back when the game was a 3rd person strategy one) before he was actually a character

Original Game Goal was Seamless World (1999 pretty insane to think abt - even tho it is more common now [with BotW and RDR2])

original request - 2 or 3 minutes LOL (they didn't know what the demo length was gonna be). So he writes a 3 minute track that has smushiness at the start and back so that nothing is missing (yeah the melody is Slow like that)

Showcase ended up being 3 minutes, good. The structure might not have been that [vague] / smushy if he worked more directly with the demo's sequencing and length.

epic stuff had to be more upbeat - the higher pace one was lowkey irish jig themed

Panelist / Audience vibe that we received from Halo theme: kind of Lonely? Solitude / "ozymandias" style.

before focusing on Future Soldier - the alien planet that he was being chased in and getting into the Warthog, turned out that way

great things abt art -> a lot of meaning is emergent (not originally intended) but that doesn't mean that it CAN'T add depth

he personally conducted the chanting - gregorian chanting is monks in cathedral w/ reverb so no strict meter or tempo for what happens. bravado (vince) - give and take

surprised cat face "halo is a religious game" SO TRUE

Drums Breakdown:

- tone being low register - low DUKUKUKUD DUKUDUNKUN drums

- choice reasoning: "I thought they would be cool"

- rhythm: panelist relates it to america west side story drums

- compound rhythms (instead of splitting it to duples (2), split it into 3, but then overlay the 2 on that end of the measure)

- "polyrhythmic"

- first time it was written; first music was 4:4 with triplets

- then 12:8 and conducted in 4

- (sorry don't remember my high school music classes that much)

Strings Breakdown:

- dun dun dun DUNNN

- melodic structure is "simple," just starts low and goes high

- [kinda reminds me of Megalovania except that one walks down]

- "this makes a great metal piece if you've heard people do covers of it"

- (um YEAH MJOLNIR COVER⁉️)

- in college he did a paper on the inventor of leitmotif - symphany fantastique (referencing his enamored with)

- the melody for that song was complex

- you can't develop with a complicated leitmotif

- Harold in Italy - this next piece was short and could be developed

- "the effect of melody is something that gets in your head and stays in there" (easier to hook audience in)

- [like Megalovania]

- strings keep the compound meter that the drums introduced

- to get the drive and aggression and thrust (pause?) - he wrote the cellos to do the OCTIVE Jump and go back and forth. he wanted to hear the ROSIN

- not classical string playing method... When some people read the music they split the cellos! even though it's supposed to jump on the SAME cello. That's WIPPY

- sloppy in a good way (pause⁉️)

- [but yeah it's very human I agree and that makes the piece IT]

- next string line - the backing whole high notes violins crescendoing

- it's the same walk from E to A but then IT KEEPS GOING

- low cello - minor (not dorian) but then the high strings are back to dorian i.e. that one note C#

- gregorian usually not dorian(?)

- mo likes ambiguous scales - dorian scale and the likes are not so explicitly "minor is sad, major is happy"

- enjoys writing to stick specifically to a scale that gives you chords that are non common in contemporary music

- bringing dorian to the high strings after cello is basically a "we're so back" measure.

- he likes that it's a minor key with major subdominant and a minor dominant

- rock and roll influence

- snsnss

- second string phrase

- full sending irish jig - sea shanty vibe

- halo was a damn water level this whole time??

- tidbit: master chief is the highest noncommissioned role you could reach

-

vocals

- the high backing vocals are less gregorian but more wailing

- "idk why, but thought it would be more mysterious and alien to have gregoian monks and then adding arabic wailing"

- he asked if one of the singers could do that kind of chanting - this was the last thing recorded for the theme

- martin tried doing it and he was the one who actually kept it in

- he brought them two versions - wailing vs no wailing (bungie loved the wailing one) (martin was embarrassed because it was his high voice)

- [kind of like how megalovania has that countermelody near the end of the song]

rest of the song:

- the UPDOWN violins with no percussion

- harmony

- starts E Dorian then rhythm stop - the string melody is in G minor woah

- panelist: "why a weird chord"

- martin: "I don't know"

- audience: *claps*

- *he just wanted to move off the E

- since we weren't even in E minor in the first place, moving to G minor it's WOAH

last last segment

- looked at the parallel 4ths "dundundun dun"

- inner voice goes down a step, next voice goes up a step

- oblique and countering motion (this is starting to go over my head) makes cool chords as a result of changing the motion of the notes itself

- MUSIC........

- halo 2 OST takes influence from this kind of motion

- basically taking his piano playing style to cello / strings players and forcing motion, making them sweat

- diminution of original theme - it's two bars per thing but then it removes the second sustained bar (more energetic)

takeaways - sometimes your goat just does it

woke takeaways - only very slightly critical abt using gregorian/arabic chants just to add to the Uniqueness / "alien" feel even tho those are just like. Other People. (but it's so far detached and not meant to be a direct correlation, does it even count?)

[chewtoyfrank]

@pisshandkerchief

Holy fuckkk. I. Fuck. Yeah. Yeah. Fuck.

Okay so. Favorites are probably, in order: Bang The Doldrums, I've Got All This Ringing In My Ears, This Ain't A Scene, The (After) Life Of The Party, and Hum Hallelujah.

I feel unwell.

Below are the notes I took while listening to each song 2 or 3 times. View at your own risk.

Thriller

Holy shittttt what the fuck

Starting off fucking intense

Oh

Holy shit

Ily vocals

Well. Uh Oh.

"The Take Over, The Breaks Over"

Ooooooo woah

Vibey

Broooooooo the chorus fuckss

Oh shitt

Shittt the guitarr

SHITTT the drumss

This Ain't A Scene, It's An Arms Race

Woah

Woahhhh

Bro???

That little guitar bit. fuck

The likee buzzy lil emphasis on God Damn is soooo tingly holy shittttt

Fuck. Okay. Yeah. Okay.

I'm Like A Lawyer With The Way I'm Always Trying To Get You Off

Vocals ilyyyy. Pretty

Yeah

Hum Hallelujah

That bass fucks

Someone who knows someone who knows-

The chorus is so prettyyy

The pronunciation makes brain go brrrrrr

Crunchy ass ending

Golden

Mmmmm piano

Godd i love fucking backing vocals

Oh???? Pretty???

OH SHIT

OH SHITT

Fuck. Yeah okay

Thnks Fr Th Mmrs

Oh shit it's this song i know this one! Kind of

Very dramatic

Oooo clickity clackity

OOOOH THAT GUITAR

Don't You Know Who I Think I Am?

👏👏👏

Epic gamer moment!

I need to take vocal lessons. blease

Sexy ending

The (After) Life Of The Party

Oooooooobh prettyyyy

Damnn

Thw change into the fucking drums and to the next verse good shit

God DAMN the fucking VOCALS

Fuckkkkkkkkkkkk

This Slaps

GOT DAM THAT FUCKING fuckin uhhhh the last 'loose' fuck man

fuck.

The Carpal Tunnel Of Love

Sexy guitar

The drums fuckingg. Dun dun. Dun dun. 👍

More sexy guitarrrr

Vocals

Woag bridge what the fuck

God damn girl.

VOCALS

Bang The Doldrums

I LIKE? SEXY RHYTHM

Ooooo HELL YEAH Guitar!

Oh shitt

Oh Shittttttt it's fuckin bang the doldrums

I don't know it but I've heard about it so that means its popular right

Girl. Girl help.

Uh oh. Autism

This fucks so hard

It's giving uhhhhh piratey? Idk but I like it

Goddamn. Yeah. Yeah.

Fame < Infamy

Sexy guitar, chef's kiss

Haven't deciphered the lyrics but I'm feeling some type of way abt them

More guitar yummm

👍

You're Crashing, But You're No Wave

SEXYY GUITAR

This fucks

Oh shitt the fucking silence after hushed fuckk

👍👍

Woahh damn the choiral part, shit

I've Got All This Ringing In My Ears And None On My Fingers

Oooooooo

Shittt

The truth hurts worse part is so brain tingly fucking chills fuck

Fuckk

Ooooooooo

OOOOOOHHHHHHH

FUCKK, MAJOR AUTISM SLAY

💞💞💞

God Damn. Fuck. Shit

G.I.N.A.S.F.S.

Ooooooh cunty ass intro

Oh shit this slays

CUNTY ASS GUITAR HELL YEAH

Love the energy this fucks

She's so mysterious. What does she stand for

It's Hard To Say "I Do", When I Don't

Oooooooo

Damnnnn hella lyrics

Ooooooo that buildup Yessss

The ending that fucks

Dance, Dance - Live

Ily drumsss

ILY BASS

Believe it or not. Ily vocals

Good shitt

This Ain't A Scene, It's An Arms Race - Live

STILL FUCKS.

Fucks more i think actually

Extra cuntyyy i love it. ILY LIVE VOCALS

Autism hungry feed it fob

Fuckkkk this SLAYS

Thriller - Live

CRUNCHYYYYYY

pretty

Crunchy AND Pretty. Impeccable.

FUCKING CRUNCHYY

pretty again. shes versatile

Slayyy

I want to gnaw on this song like a dog bone

[warmglowofsurvival]

get to know our locals: twenty one pilots

Twenty One Pilots are a two piece band from the capital of Ohio that sure have be making a lot of noise. Tyler Joseph on the mic and Josh Dun on drums have created something they are both very proud of with the help of their friends and fans along the way. I had the opportunity to interview and catch Twenty One Pilots play The Underground in Cincinnati, Ohio to a sold out crowd; 300+ kids. It was truly an incredible performance to catch live. I highly encourage everybody that has a chance to see them to do so and move your feet to an introspective beat.

SSP: Hello, how are you today?

Tyler: We’re good!

You guys excited?

Tyler: Yes we are. We really like playing music in front of people. We like playing music in front of no one too; people always make it a little more exciting.

How does it feel to play sold out shows?

Tyler: For me it’s always like, we always thought we would never sell out anything, you know? I always wanted for people to stand at shows, because for shows I played, they were at coffee shops. I thought if I could get people to stand, I could be happy forever and now that people are coming out to jump around and move and experience something, it’s a cool feeling. There’s nothing like it, absolutely nothing like it.

Josh: Same, it’s like, somebody wanting to pay money to come see us do whatever it is that we’re doing is crazy. It’s cool and exciting.

What does your logo stand for?

Tyler: It means Twenty One Pilots, the logo does. Why it means Twenty One Pilots, is it really goes along with one of our songs called “Kitchen Sink.” The whole concept of that song is that I feel that humans are always struggling all the time when it comes to purpose, trying to figure out their purpose is, what purpose even is, what’s the point, justifying your own existence. A lot of kids and people my age struggle with “what’s the point,” and with the logo, what it really means is it’s an encouragement. When someone asks me what the logo means to me, the logo means something to me because I made it mean something to me. That’s the point. The point is that I created something that only I understand and whether or not I decide to disclose the meaning of it, that’s the beginning of purpose for me. The meaning of purpose for me, is by creating something, if it be by writing lyrics, painting a picture, by expressing yourself through art if it’s photography or music or theater, or whatever it is. It doesn’t have to be artistic, but if you create something and only you know the meaning of it, that’s the beginning of purpose for you. When you’re in the room by yourself trying to decide whether to stay alive, you can tell yourself “I should probably stay alive because I’m the only one who knows the meaning of that thing,” so the logo is an encouragement for people to create. That’s what it means.

Any musical or real life influences?

Tyler: The influences question is hard for us to answer because a lot of times we can only think of a few. If we say a few, that’s what you’re going to think of when you listen to our music and Josh and I both listen to a lot of stuff, but at the same time, we don’t digest everything we hear. We don’t make that the reason why we play, because we heard someone else do it. I remember when I sat down with someone to write a song and the first hour of the song writing session were spent looking up bands on the internet and him saying how he “likes this and that.” I don’t understand why people go to references when they want to write songs and create in general. Don’t get me wrong, I’m influenced by everything I hear, but when I decided to write a song, I’m not trying to mimic what I heard before. When you’re done creating that thing you made, you’re going to force yourself to compare it to what it is you heard and it’s never going to be what it is that you want, and you’re going to kill yourself over it.

Why a two piece band?

Tyler: Less crap to deal with, less people you have in your band. With a two piece, it’s just us. We are both up front and there are times in the show where it’s just us doing something. It really pushes us to give everything we have; physically, emotionally, spiritually and give our everything on stage. There came a point when we asked “Do we get a bassist, do we get a guitarist?” We decided to pull it off with just the two of us. Josh is one of those drummers you could just watch play drums. I think drums are things that need to be appreciated and highlighted. We found chemistry that we could only find in a two piece band.

If you could do anything else besides music, what would it be?

Josh: Nothing. Music has been my life since I was twelve. When I started playing, I looked at it as an extreme vision and goal. A different crazy goal that I would like to do is become an astronaut. I always wanted to go to space and explore. I would pursue that if I wasn’t into music, but since I was twelve, I’ve been pursuing music and music only.

Tyler: There’s really no plan B. Plan A is hard and you really got to go for it!

Do you guys like being from Ohio?

Tyler: We love it, we love Ohio. As we grow and influences start to spread, we will always be a local band at heart. We came from nothing in Ohio. I love Ohio, I love Columbus and I love where I’m from. Obviously the weather sucks, but when it starts to get cold, who’s excited for jacket season? I am. I love jacket season.

Josh: Anybody, anywhere, there’s a time where people say that they can’t wait to get out of wherever they are. The more I travel, it makes me realize how much more I love Columbus and where I’m from. I love Ohio and Ohio in general.

Describe each other with one song title.

Tyler: First thing that came to my mind that describes Josh the best is any Dixie Chicks song.

Josh: And the band in general. That describes us in general.

Tyler: The Dixie Chicks, they know everything about us, they love us. We love them.

Josh: “Boys of Summer” by The Ataris would probably be Tyler.

Tyler: A song title that really describes Josh to me is “Goodbye My Lover” by James Blunt. When I see Josh play the drums, I picture a tractor and how powerful a tractor is. Man, he plays drums so hard, he’s like an engine. At the same time, it’s not like any tractor. When you see a tractor do tractor stuff, it’s not entertaining. With Josh he’s an entertaining tractor which really stands for “E.T” by Katy Perry.

Josh & Tyler: (Laughs)

Describe your fans with one word.

Tyler: I would say “powerful.” From my angle on stage, I have a powerful thing in front of me: the crowd is powerful. If they’re in the same room or doing their own thing, they all collectively agree on one thing and that’s the band’s message. That’s pretty powerful.

Josh: A word that comes to mind for me is “capable.” I always believed that I could do it. The more we interact with fans that listen to our music, I see that these people are capable of doing whatever they want to do. They’ve been capable of helping us continue doing what we want to do. I think everyone is capable of doing what it is they love to do in life.

Tyler: Like an entertaining tractor!

[prince-steele]

ok so me n silky narrowed down what happened tonight at the show with the cryo.

1. on the backend, the show visuals and cryo are synced up with the music, on a timer.

2. for some reason, Tyler was being electrocuted while onstage during the cryo segments, this leads us to think that it was improperly installed in some way (cryo is notoriously difficult to set up). this could also be because of a power surge or a crash in the system

3. because of this faulty installation/surge/crash, the cryo was bugged out and wasn't able to go off in sync with the music. if any element of the show is out of sync, it can cause the entire system to fail, which is why the music also cut out.

4. Tyler has every right to be pissed off abt this because faulty installation sucks. festivals often are kinda a shitshow on the backend bc there are so many bands coming in one after the other, and they still handled everything professionally. it was still an awesome show and it's commendable they kept going no matter what.

5. everyone say thank you Josh Dun on the drums for remaining so upbeat and chipper despite the technical issues

[zahri-melitor]

Newish Comics:

Batman and Robin #1: I support Damian Wayne attending school and living with his father and having normal childhood experiences, DC. I will say I’m slightly side-eyeing that Williamson got this run, given his habit of preferencing bio kids only as real children, but you know? For Damian hopefully getting some stability? I’ll allow it.

Damian, sweetheart, going to school with your agemates is about socialisation and having a non-superhero identity and understanding what a normal baseline is. You desperately, desperately need it. Bruce is actually correct here.

World’s Finest Teen Titans #3: It’s not a shock to say that WFTT has a lot of Teen Titans Year One vibes in places. Though WFTT isn’t quite so ‘written for 8 year olds’. Actually, this issue also reminds me of Chase #4, where the 96 Teen Titans are doing a promo at a toy store that gets attacked by Clock King (I wander off talking about how great Chase is as a comic).

Ok I’m back and not talking about cancelled comics runs from 1998. I think that’s it’s interesting commentary that Donna and Karen have the hardest time at the convention – Donna gets objectified on the panel and Karen is literally stalked (with a stalker who wants to touch her, Karen worrying about her mask, and the overlying aspect here that Karen is Black), while the boys have a relatively harmless time (the worst that happens to Roy is Wally messing with him).

Also I was particularly noticing the lines of this version of Dick’s costume really remind me of the way the undersuit panelling works on Tim’s 2009 Red Robin suit. Now in that case the colour blocking is raised black running up his hips, which in WF the red colour panels run DOWN Dick’s legs to create the tunic impression, but it’s an interesting note, particularly with the piping.

Warlord #19: the average travel pace has picked up this issue with the acquisition of flying machines. Miraculous.

Joshua has grown bigger and now can play drums with a skull and femurs! Also he has inherited his mum’s red hair. Sweetie.

Tara remains a badass and able to defend herself, and both Travis and Tara get tied up this issue (to the central roof support column of a building) then have to fight bears in a bear pit. They are rescued by (dun dun dun…) Machiste and Mariah! The gang’s all back together again!

[bitchdafuqyousay]

The Usual Business

The night was warm and sticky, especially so after the rain they’d gotten in the afternoon. Alex wrinkled her nose with distaste as she stepped out of the car- the whole street smelled like wet dog, piss and probably every alcohol that’d ever been invented. And trash, of course. Couldn’t ever forget the fuckin' garbage rotting in the streets right alongside the people who lived here.

The nasty smell and shit weather didn’t deter the walking sort of trash from being out here however, God could send another flood and a lot of these punks would spend their last seconds in the redlit sector.

“Be careful, yeah? Oh, but be quick too, Yammi! I dun’ wanna be on this street for long.” The young man who drove huffed and slumped onto his steering wheel.

She waved her hand dismissively as she double checked the receipt in her hand, before tucking it back into a folder she was carrying “Yeah, yeah Sammy- I don’t intend to hang around. But don’t worry too much, you’re not hot enough to get propositioned. Not here at least, you’re way overshadowed by the actual streetwalks.”

She could feel him pouting at her behind her back, didn't even need to look at him to know his freckled face had scrunched up and he was sticking out his lower lip far enough that it could be his collarbone's own umbrella.

“You dun’ gotta be mean about it, you’re always so mean to me Yammi, thought you’re supposed to be the nice one here.”

“I am the nice one here. Stop whining at me and just wait for a bit, kay? This shouldn’t take long at all.” 

He grumbled something under his breath as she shut the car door and walked up to the double wood doors; plastered in posters and advertisements to drum up business and finished with the word Käzchen's Club painted on them. As if someone would somehow miss the neon red sign on the top of the building and would have no idea which brothel they were currently at. 

Alex grunted as she pushed open one of the heavy doors and she was greeted by a burly man, he was short, but no less intimidating. He waved lazily at her from where he was standing at the top of the two small stairs you’d need to go up to actually get into the club portion of the place. To the credit of the staff here- especially the owner, Riche- it wasn’t a bad place. Definitely leagues over others in the same area. Any bastard coming in here had to have actual money, not just a few dollars they scraped together to toss pitifully on stage. And you could bet your ass you weren’t getting even close to an upstairs room with one of the ladies if you didn’t have full pockets. The interior was nice enough as well, but not her taste. Too… fussy. But still nice.

And the man in front of her wasn’t gonna let just any lowlife in this establishment who might ruin that niceness. He would block entry with violent force if he felt he should. A man would also be removed with even more violent force if it were necessary. Breaking the “no touching the dancers or bottle girls” rule was a sure fire way to get some teeth knocked out as well as a broken nose when you get thrown out the doors face first onto the street.

“Slugger! Good to see you, how’s it been?”

The man simply grunted, just nodding his head in response to her greeting as he stepped aside so she could pass by him.

“Riche upstairs, or is he smacking people who get too rowdy around the floor with an improv weapon?”

“...Upstairs.”

She brushed past and made her way to the far end of the main floor, waving politely at the working women who called out their hellos in high, flirty melodies. A couple customers stopped her too, asking about her boss and if they were after any gigs currently; she politely told them that they’d need to actually call her boss if they had any legitimate inquiries and excused herself quickly.

She was here for work, not socializing.

Last time she’d been here she was discussing the fees for an order Riche had put in with her company. He’d been asking for a pretty large amount of cocaine he could sell out to the fuck ups that came here to satiate themselves. He sold it here, and her company- a great group of renaissance men- dealt it out as a middleman. Match made in heaven. But during their conversation there was some commotion downstairs- it was so loud and so disruptive that the man marched downstairs with Alex in tow to see who was ‘making a ruckus in his good establishment’. Some piss-drunk dickhead had climbed on stage and tried to get aggressively handsy with a dancer, and then stabbed one of the bouncers when they dragged him off the poor woman. Riche had stormed over and beat the man’s face in with a custom made shiny black stiletto. By the time he finished exacting his righteous punishment and was screaming at Slugger to get this ‘useless, limpdick, piece of rotting dog shit bastard’ out of his building the shoe had transformed into a red bottom. A real treat for Alex to witness. But she didn't want to see it this evening. She was too tired for such excitement.

Once she got to the staircase and shut its door behind her the music dulled into a distant sounding thumping, conversations and laughter faded into a monotonous buzz. She sighed, steeling herself for the new sounds she was about to be assaulted with. Said sounds getting increasingly louder as she climbed the stairs and actually reached the second floor. Her target was the large, red door at the very end of the hallway. That's where Riche was, but to get there she had to walk past the sounds of men who got too caught up in a sugar trap and the women who were profiting from it.

Beds creaking and hitting the walls, shuffling of fabric, the high pitched and perfectly practiced falsettos from the women who worked here, calling out names and giving perfectly timed praise. 

Their acting was actually pretty good. Though Alex still wondered how the johns fell for it and thought it was real.

She finally reached the end of the hallway and lifted her hand to knock on that red door, but she was startled by it opening as soon as she did so. There was a quick beat of silence as the two people stared at each other in surprise. The other one broke it first.

“Ms. Yammada… hello…”

She stifled a giggle, but had trouble forcing her grin down, “Smiles! What a wonderful surprise.” Her eyes went over him a few times, taking in his appearance. His shirt was uncharacteristically rumpled, the ever present yellow mask with the cartoon grin on it was a bit crooked, and she could see smears of lipstick on both sides of his neck, on his collarbones, and she even thought she saw a couple of bite marks disappearing into his shirt.

“Hm. Well, I suppose you have an appointment with Riche. I’ll be going then.” He stepped around her and began walking away.

“Oh, Smiles! Wait a moment! You missed a belt loop.”

He stopped and began looking, patting his hips to try and find which loop he’d missed and Alex burst out into laughter, not bothering to suppress herself this time. 

“Ah. I see. You are teasing me. How humorous.” He gave her a quick glare over his shoulder, but it didn’t hold any actual anger. The two actually got along decently, well, as much as he would allow anyone to get along with him.

“I hope you continue to enjoy your night, good doctor.” She called out to him, and he leveled her with another pointed look in response, but then the glare softened and his good eye squinted in a way that meant he was smiling at her.

He left with a friendly-ish wave over his shoulder, and she turned to knock on the red door; which was already open. She was only knocking out of politeness and to alert her arrival before she walked in without waiting to be invited.

Riche was sitting at his vanity, reapplying his favored blood red lipstick. 

“Yammi baby, don’t tease him too much-” he turned around on his stool and feigned a disappointed look “-you know how flustered my handsome beau can get.”

“He only gets flustered with you, Riche. He’s totally emotionless with everyone else. You can find a broader range of emotion on the face of a flat Stanley doll.” 

Riche chuckled demurely, covering his mouth with a graceful, satin covered hand that was followed by a brief stretch of quiet as he finished fixing his makeup and Alex looked around for a place to sit.

“Oh, here baby, you take the vanity seat.” The man stood up and gestured to said place before sauntering by and draping himself over his bed, stretching out a lean arm in order to reach his cigarette pack on the nightstand, tossing it onto the silk covers next to him before going and patting about the nightstand again. His perfectly groomed brows scrunched up a bit.

“Baby, is my lighter over there on the vanity? I swore I left it here, though.”

Alex reached into her pocket and pulled out her own lighter; she herself didn’t smoke, but Hans and her boss did, so she kept one on her in case they needed a light for whatever reason. She smiled sweetly as she leaned over and lit his smoke for him.

“You probably knocked it to the floor somewhere while you were throwing the good doctor around.” 

“Ooh, probably. I just hadn’t seen my man in a while, y’know? That pretty thing's been so busy lately I was practically starving. So I-”

“I don’t wanna know what poses or shapes you twisted him into, Riche. I just need to affirm costs with you and get you to sign something for me.”

“I know, I know. Always business as usual with you, isn’t it?” He huffed but crawled over to sit at the edge of the bed anyways, swinging his long legs over the side and crossing them. He took a quick drag from his cigarette and left it hanging in his mouth as he took the lengthy receipt from Alex. She also handed him the printed transcript from their last conversation so he could compare the two. Alex had already done the math, and her math was flawless as always. But it was a good business practice to re-discuss things with clients before moving forwards. And she was a good businesswoman. 

“I don’t know why I even bother looking, really. I trust Maroon Company to get the details right, and if you’re the one handling the paperwork and numbers, baby, then I don’t have anything to worry about…” He paused, “Aside from where I put my pen. Hang on I need to-”

She pulled one out of her breast pocket and extended it to him.

“Always so prepared. Lighters, pens, whatever else a person might need. Tucked into your little pockets.”

“Tucked into my cleavage too. I’ve got a fine tip sharpie in there if you’d rather use that.”

“Pfft-” he covered his laugh with the back of his hand again, “-no Yammi that's alright, this ballpoint is just fine.”

He scribbled the mess that was his signature and handed her papers back for her to tuck into her folder. At least he wasn’t at a big risk for fraud. Nobody could convincingly reproduce that bullshit.

“Alright, well that’s it, Riche, thank you. You’ll get a call when it arrives at the warehouse. Have a good night, okay?”

“You too, baby. But a call is so impersonal, my goodness, none of you visit often enough. You only show up for business and only god knows how long it's been since your boss showed me her beautiful face. Give her my well wishes and tell her stop by some time, yeah? I’ll even mix her a drink myself!”

“I’ll pass it on to her! See you next time!”

Alex all but jogged down the hall, the later it was in the night the noisier it was in the rooms and Alex really wasn’t interested in hanging around to listen. It was raining again when she got back to the car. Sam was sitting slumped in his seat, probably still moping. She opened the passenger door and climbed in, shutting it the second her ass touched the old leather seat. Sammy shifted out of park and pulled off before she finished buckling. She didn’t care though, she wanted to get back to the office decently quickly too. She was tired.

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and snorted when she saw the collection of frowny faces he’d drawn on the driver's side window, little crying faces traced into existence when the wet, humid night air had fogged the windows up. She didn’t comment on it, though. She was the nice one here, after all, so she’d leave Sam and his sad little faces to themselves for now.