#i know its not totally a groupie story but listen

[pacifymebby]

if each of the boys had to get miss Groupie a present for Christmas, what would they get?

I've been thinking about this for the past few days since you sent it and its sprung up so many other questions haha so this is officially a groupie themed Christmas post <3

PS some of this is going to hint at future chapters sorry haha

Van

🌟 I feel like he'd be so grumpy about it, really snidey in the run up to Christmas

🌟 "Don't you leach enough off us already..." "Why the fuck would I get you a Christmas present y/n we're not even friends..."

🌟 but he'd know that if he doesn't get her a Christmas present he'll be the only one who doesn't get her anything

🌟 and he feels lowkey guilty for not getting her anything, doesn't know what to get her because the only things he knows about her are bedroom related...

🌟 so... She gets a Van Morrison CD, some leftover coke (literally just the little plastic bag with like a little bit left) and a red velvet choker with a heart on it (it's from Claire's accessories) it's got a pair of red velvet handcuffs to match (not from Claire's accessories) also a packet of cigarettes... When he watches her go through the little stocking he realises how shit his gifts are but shes giggling and actually is quite touched he got her anything at all

❤️ she gives him a beautifully wrapped little box, when he opens it there's a lump of coal inside

❤️ "seriously..." he's literally about to take the cocaine back when she bursts into a fit of giggles and shakes her head "no not seriously you fucking idiot" then she gives him his actual present which is a Strokes cd, some weed and a box of Jaffa cakes.

Bondy

🌜 they're actually besties so I feel like every now and then they really spoil eachother or do something quite sweet for one another...

🌜 Bondy definitely collects stuff throughout his travels and saves them up to give her for Christmas so it's always like a year in review, a little vintage slip dress he picked up in Japan, a rare vinyl from some record store in America, a book from one of those streetside stores in Paris.

🌜 always draws some wild illustration on her Christmas card, sometimes it's just a really inappropriate Christmas themed joke, sometimes it's a full story about how Santa fell into the tumble drier and it spat him out on mars where he discovered he was one of a billion santa clones created by Simon Cowell to control the children of earth etc...

🌜 treats her to things like week long spa getaways and stuff, books for them to go together and spend a week in some fancy spa way out the way of everyone else, takes her weekends away to Paris and stuff.

🌜 red wine, really, really pretty vintage jewelry pieces...deep red lacy bodysuit but to be totally honest he isn't going to be buying her loads of lingerie because he prefers it when she isn't wearing underwear...

❤️ She always struggles to know what the perfect gift for him is because she kind of feels like he already has everything anyway... But she tries to do the same thing and gather stuff over the year for him...

❤️ always buys him a book, tries to buy him a record that she thinks looks weird or has a really weird band name... She never listens to them first just chooses completely on vibes.

❤️ gets a picture of the two of them together that he can keep in his wallet.

🎄🦌 I think that before she met Sam she has spent almost every Christmas since her dad died with Bondy and his family. He probably invited her the year it happened and it's just become a habit for them now.

Benji

🪽 cute Christmas pyjama sets, lots of pastel pinks, white fluffy thigh highs.

🪽 video games probably

🪽 her favourite chocolates

🪽 one of his hoodies that she's always "borrowing"

🪽 new headphones (probably pastel pink)

🪽 very soft pretty lingerie sets, pink lacy thongs which fasten at the sides with ribbon etc... the most likely to buy her a sexy/cute little Santa skirt/outfit

🪽 would probably take her to Disney Land

❤️ always knows he's going to spoil her and she always wants to match his energy

❤️ something Lego star wars themed, honestly one year she probably bought him a lightsaber or something.

❤️ a totoro plushie

❤️ trip to the harry potter studios or something, I feel like that's something he'd probably enjoy?

❤️ draws him a Christmas card with him as an animal crossing character with all his favourite villagers

Bob

🍬 Would be so so nervous about getting her a Christmas present, he's newest to her whole vibe and he doesn't know the "rules" so he isn't sure whether he should be being sentimental or whether to get her something sexy...

🍬 in the end he kind of does both, he gets her a pretty slutty lingerie set... One of those lacy little thongs with a slit in the crotch...

🍬 he's probably the only one of the lads who knows what perfume she wears and she's really surprised and also touched when he gets her it for Christmas.

🍬 his only experience of buying gifts for "girl friends" is buying for his girlfriend so he's worried he's crossing lines when he buys her really fancy stuff, but that doesn't really stop him.

🍬 Swarovski tennis bracelets (you know the ones that are really simple but sparkly and gorgeous)

❤️ she has no fucking clue what to buy Bob but she's deeping it so much and in the end she begs Johnny to go shopping with her so she can find something for him...

❤️ he takes her to a music store and picks out some drumming "stuff" she doesn't know what any of it is but Bondys assuring her he'll be into it.

❤️ buys him a cardigan because she thinks he'd look pretty hot in a cardigan

❤️ she totally also gives him her nude Polaroids

Larry

☃️he buys her the ugliest Christmas Jumper he can find

❤️ she buys him the ugliest Christmas jumper she can find.

☃️ they exchange gifts and laugh at one another.

Sam

🐻 would spoil his baby girl rotten...

🐻 takes her to do loads of cute Christmassy things with him in the run up to Christmas, christmas markets, makes her come pick a tree with him, they spend an evening decorating it together, he puts her on his shoulders so she can put the star on the top of the tree.

🐻 lots of cuddling and snuggling watching Christmas movies together. They go to see a Christmas movie in the cinema,one of those ones with the massive recliner seats and he has her sitting in his lap the whole time.

🐻 a full on stocking of presents from him naturally, a little teddybear, doesn't give hugs quite as good as him but it'll make up for when he has to go on stage.

🐻 a really delicate little choker, it's got a little silver heart with his initial on it, so everyone knows she's his.

🐻 white lace underwear, delicate little lingerie pieces but lots of the white and soft pinks. He'd also buy her a Bruce Springsteen t-shirt to teach her the best music.

🐻 ear muffs, a white or pink faux fur coat with a hood, to keep her warm in winter.

🐻 one of those big Lindt chocolate teddy bears.

❤️ She probably also brought him a Bruce Springsteen t-shirt, buys him some stupid aromatherapy shit for his anxiety like lavender pulse point oil to help him sleep.

❤️ will buy him chocolate even though he's not supposed to have it.

❤️ gets him like a little friendship bracelet style thing but more couplesy, they each have one to wear around their wrist.

❤️ probably gets him something football related too

Eli

🌿 was literally just going to give her a candy cane but his dad forced him to also deliver a present from him which would probably actually be quite sentimental, an envelope with old pictures of him gigging with her dad back in the day, some of her dad's guitar plecs.

🌿 then Eli's got to apologise that his dad's such a sentimental git because y/n is trying not to cry

🌿 so he awkwardly thrusts the candy cane at her like "well anyway I was gonna give you this and I think it's much better than that old junk," making an awkward little joke so she doesn't have to ruin her "no feelings" reputation in front of him.

❤️ she'd feel a bit guilty cause she also has only got Eli a selection box and hasn't gotten anything for Eli's dad...

Okay these aren't very good because I'm still super ill and really struggling to make my brain work but... Hope you liked them xxx

[absolutepokemontrash]

MC is Half Demon and Blah Blah Blah-

Time for the Group Retreat!

Part 1 Part 2 Lessons 1-5 Lessons 5-6 Lessons 10-12 Lessons 13-15 Part 3 Part 4

I’m quite hyped for this one, ladies, gents, and esteemed readers! For simplicity’s sake, since this is before M!MC and A!MC arrive, L!MC will go back to being referred to as just MC. Enjoy the Headcanons!

Since the previous Underground Tomb incident ended much less violently, Lucifer is now more worried than angry about MC’s rampant shennaniganery.

Like... his kid was poking holes in his totally foolproof “Your cow-uncle went to live on a farm in the human world” story. What if MC somehow got into the attic and got hurt?!

It didn’t help that they were still in this weird phase of their father/child relationship. On one hand, Lucifer obviously cares for his kid, and his kid likes him... but it’s also only been less than three months and we all know how emotionally constipated Lucifer is.

MC’s also getting REAL sus of all the secrets their dear old dad is keeping... doesn’t help that they STILL haven’t went up into the attic.

Anyhoo~ the announcement for the retreat was a barrel of laughs.

“I’m proposing, a group retreat!”

Everyone met Diavolo’s announcement with the exact same confused reaction. It’s like the entire assembly hall was doing the ‘Guy Blinking’ meme.

“A... group retreat?” Lucifer repeated slowly. “For what reason exactly, Lord Diavolo?”

The Crown Prince was giddy with excitement as he explained. “MC told me about their middle school overnight trip and it sounded like it would be quite fun!”

Simeon, Luke, MC, and Solomon were all seated next to each other in the ‘exchange student seats of less importance’. Luke leaned over and whispered a question to MC.

“Why are you so friendly with the crown prince?”

MC smirked and shrugged. “Lucifer had the Demon-Flu and couldn’t go meet with Lord Diavolo last week so I went for him. Lord Diavolo’s surprisingly bad at Connect Four but has really good luck in Snakes and Ladders.”

Luke’s jaw dropped in complete and utter shock and horror.

“We’re playing CandyLand and the Game of Life next time, want to come?” MC added.

“Play CandyLand... with him..?” Luke looked at Diavolo, who was still explaining his plan for the retreat, then looked back at MC. “I’ll only go to shield you from his corrupting influence.”

“Yeah... Corrupting...” MC had to hold back a laugh at the thought of Diavolo, who during MC’s visit lit up like a Christmas tree upon being called ‘Dia’ and believed that Mood Rings were the greatest human invention ever, being a corrupting influence.

“MC! Torture dungeon or no!?” MC was snapped out of their conversation by Mammon shouting at them from his seat.

“What?”

“Do ya think there’s a torture dungeon under the castle, or not?”

“I’m not sure,” MC turned to Diavolo. “Lord Diavolo, is there a torture dungeon under the Demon Lord’s Castle?”

There is in fact, no torture dungeon. Presumably...

Everyone packed up and headed out to the Demon Lord’s Castle!

The fabulous seven all broke several speed limits and traffic laws in order to be there early. Listen, they had to get there before Purgatory Hall, it was a matter of pride.

Besides, what’s the Royal guard going to do? Arrest six of the seven rulers of hell and a kid? Ha. No. Not when Diavolo controls their paychecks.

The rooming situation remained the same, Asmo, Simeon, and MC were roomed together, and MC got to watch Asmo get psychologically profiled by Simeon. It was truly a sight to behold.

MC was nice enough to assure Asmo that they really liked him and thought he was very sweet.

Asmo, not used to being complimented on his personality, almost started openly weeping.

So, the tour of the Demon Lord’s Castle began! Asmo got yelled at by his ex in the painting and the usual batch of idiots got sucked into the catacombs under the castle.

Lucifer wasn’t terribly sure how or if he should express his concern for MC being stuck in the labyrinth.

All these new fatherly feelings of worry are very very odd. He didn’t worry this much for Satan, mainly because Satan was usually the threat.

Even as a baby...

Lucifer found himself checking his DDD every few minutes to see if MC had texted or called from wherever the painting dragged them to, never mind that if they did text he’d hear the phone ding.

“Lucifer, don’t worry too much,” Diavolo patted Lucifer on the shoulder, a bright smile on his face. “Your brothers and MC will be perfectly fine! There’s nothing too dangerous in the catacombs that they wouldn’t be able to take care of.”

Resigning himself to the fact that MC was under the care of his last choices for babysitting, Lucifer put away his DDD. “I know they’ll be fine, but I’m not overly pleased with the situation.” He shot a glare at Helene in the portrait, who rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.

“Lucifer worrying about someone, I’m truly, genuinely shocked.” Hearing Satan’s attempt at goading him, Lucifer, flawless demon that he is, resisted the urge to throw his DDD at his brother.

“Quiet, Satan.”

————

“WHY THE FUCK IS A SNAKE DOWN HERE?!”

“ITS HENRY 1.0!”

“YEAH THAT REALLY CLEARS STUFF UP, LEVI!”

MC and Levi continued their screaming match as the group ran for dear life from a giant snake.

Yeah... nothing the brothers couldn’t handle... sure, Lord Diavolo...

They made it out of the scary catacombs... don’t worry.

Lucifer did that parent-thing where he cleaned the catacomb dust off MC’s face with a napkin.

Yay! Parenting!

Failed pillow fight attempt #1 happened that evening. Because Mammon was obsessed with being the fun-uncle and saw his brothers encroaching on his place as favourite uncle.

MC doesn’t know how to break it to him that he’ll probably always be the favourite uncle and he doesn’t have to be such a dumbass to keep his spot.

Scavenger hunt went on as canon dictates.

Asmo had his diva tantrum and stormed off, but MC also wanted to win so they didn’t go after him.

Clearly expecting someone to go beg him to come back, Asmo was very annoyed when no one went after him.

“Um, helloooo? Anyone going to comfort me~?”

“Nope.”

“Well I don’t want your comfort anyway, SOLOMON.”

It was very close, L!MC insisted their loss came from sabotage. No evidence was found but just LOOK at Satan’s face.

Time for the Formal Dance~

If you’re wondering why Luke didn’t say anything when MC was suddenly poofed into their demon form, you’re assuming that Mammon wasn’t in on the “let’s prank the chihuahua” plan.

“Mammon..? Is MC behind you?”

“Nope! Why?”

MC was able to get to the other side of the ballroom with Luke none the wiser! Hell yeah, nothing like screwing with your friend!

So it’s canon that Lucifer is like, a solid 20/10, therefore MC is ADORABLE. What I’m saying is, some of the younger demons asked them to dance.

Asmo was also being MC’s hype man, which was very nice of him. Mammon also tried to give advice on how to be cool and suave. Beel was there for moral support.

“Alright kiddo, you need to be aloof and mysterious! People love aloof and mysterious, that’s why I’m so popular.”

“Don’t listen to him, MC. He flew into a wall as a kid and it killed all his brain cells. Just be proper but not snooty, sweet but not saccharine, friendly but not annoying,”

“Ask them if they want to share some of the hors d’oeuvres.” 

“Okay, first, aloof and mysterious are the last words I would ever use to describe you, Mammon. Second, Asmo I have no clue what you’re asking me to do. Third... Beel that’s the best advice I’ve received in recent memory.”

None of that mattered anyway because MC got swarmed with dance offers.

“Well,” MC smirked and held out their hand at the demon that was bold enough to ask them to dance first. “I admire the confidence.”

The demon’s smile brightened, then dropped completely when their gaze drifted behind MC. “I uh... on second thought... I’m gonna...”

MC’s potential dance partners all quickly scattered to the snack table. The half demon growled and turned around to see their father acting like he didn’t just scare away MC’s groupies.

“Father! What was that for?!” MC huffed, Lucifer rolled his eyes and grabbed MC’s wrist and began to pull them away from the dance floor.

“You’re too young to dance.”

“That’s crazy! They looked like they were my age.” MC protested, their wings fluttering in annoyance.

“Even if they looked to be your age, MC, they’re hundreds of years older.” Lucifer said calmly.

“What about that equivalent age stuff you told me about? Like how Luke is hundreds of years old but by angel/human standards he’s technically younger than me?”

“That doesn’t matter right now.” Lucifer lightly pushed MC towards the hallway that led back to their room.

“But I want to dance with someone!” MC felt their wings involuntarily fluff up.

Lucifer turned and smiled at his dear little brat, crouching slightly to get to their level. “Not on my watch.”

MC’s face was literally this: >:0

Lucifer is out here being the dad in every comedy that involves someone bringing home their partner to meet their parents.

MC was banished to their room, they spent their time angrily reading the manga they had packed.

When Levi escaped the party slightly later MC grilled him for details of what went on after they left.

“Nothing too interesting... except... um...”

“Spit it out, Levi!”

“...lrddiavlondlucferdnced”

“I can’t understand you, stop mumbling.”

“Lord Diavolo and Lucifer danced together...”

“...”

“...”

“I MISSED THAT?!”

So yes, MC’s desire to get a picture of Lucifer sleeping stems from VENGEANCE!

How DARE their father send MC up to their room and make them miss their OTP dancing together!?

So they call up their troupe of idiots and get ready to go be menaces to society.

MC also invites along Asmo because he seemed like he could use the adventure.

And because MC couldn’t plan the prank without Asmo noticing so it was better to just implicate him as well...

“Grrr...”

MC brightened and clapped their hands. “I know that growl!”

“It’s not my stomach, I packed snacks.” MC couldn’t see this, considering the room was pitch black (it must’ve been some kind of magic because demons have excellent night vision), but Beel waved a bag of chips in the air and got to eating.

“No, I’m not talking about your stomach, Beel.” MC skipped towards the source of the growling despite Mammon and Levi’s pleas for them to stop.

Ah! There he was!

“Cerberus!” MC cooed, the three headed dog stopped growling and barked happily. “Whose a good boy? Is it you?”

Cerberus let lose a bark that would probably make anyone crap their pants, but MC giggled and kept petting him. “Yeah! You’re the good boy! You like cuddles! Yes you do! Yes you do!”

A flash of light from a camera caused MC to drop their baby talk voice and stare angrily in the direction where the light came from.

“Whoever took that picture better delete it or I’m going to feed you to the dog.”

Cerberus growled in agreement. What a good boy.

“Well, as nice as this is...” Asmo huffed. “We’ve clearly been duped because this is not Lucifer and Diavolo’s room.”

“Oh well!” MC chirped and continued to pet the three headed dog. “Look at the doggy!”

“MC, you’re crazy. Dontcha ever forget that.” Mammon whimpered as Cerberus growled at him.

So yeah, they couldn’t get out of the room, so they ended up opening up the other door and falling into the catacombs like a bunch of lemmings.

Asmo charmed Henry, and they got out of the labyrinth no problem.

Yay! No consequences! Oh no- hi Lucifer.

Lucifer gave them all the mother of all lectures. Satan showed up with the rest of the gang and brought popcorn.

Belphie wasn’t there, okay? Satan needed to be a little shit for him.

Ah yes, the pillow fight... Mammon’s crusade to be the best uncle culminated in a massive pillow fight that ended with MC, Lucifer, and Diavolo standing over everyone’s unconscious bodies.

So they uh... won the pillow fight.

MC couldn’t sleep. They legitimately couldn’t. As exhausting as the pillow fight victory had been, everyone was snoring, and MC was bleary eyed and awake at one in the morning.

They eventually sat up and looked around, Asmo was passed out in a very unflattering position, Solomon was chanting god knows what in his sleep, Levi was half hanging off Simeon’s bed, Simeon and Luke were sleeping like angels (hehehehe-), Beel was in the middle of eating his pillow in his sleep, Mammon appeared to be dreaming about winning the lottery, and Satan was... suspiciously absent.

He was there a minute ago... weird.

Deciding that this wasn’t worth it and they should just go sleep somewhere else, MC got out of bed and avoided stepping on anyone as they vacated the room.

The Demon Lord’s Castle at night could rival the House of Lamentation in terms of overall creepiness. MC had gotten used to the spirits and curses that littered their home, but they had only been to the Demon Lord’s Castle once before, so they were extra careful not to accidentally touch anything. Their stomach rumbled and they frowned.

Damn, they had the midnight munchies... they needed a snack.

MC made their way to the kitchen and on there way, noticed a peculiar room through a half open door. Taking a few steps back to peek into it, they noticed... doors. A lot of doors. And ivy covered steps. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason to any of the placements, and the room was... weirdly chilly.

“You can come in if you’d like, MC.”

Barbatos’ voice nearly caused MC to hit a high note that they hadn’t been able to hit since their voice began to change. They straightened out their wrinkled pyjamas and stepped inside.

The butler himself was walking down one of the flights of stairs.

“Um...” Quickly remembering their manners, MC straightened their posture and cleared their throat. “Good evening Barbatos.”

Barbatos smiled and inclined his head in turn. “Good evening to you as well, MC.”

“How did you know it was me outside? You were up there a second ago.” MC asked.

“It’s a part of my powers. I can see possible futures, and I foresaw you passing by my room and getting curious.” Barbatos explained.

“Oh,” MC said, half nodding and continuing to look around. A the sound of a door closing out of MC’s vision made them squeak and look around for the source of the noise. “What was that?!”

“It’s nothing to be worried about.” Barbatos raised his hands in a placating gesture. “These doors in my room are gateways to different timelines and some are gateways into the past of this particular timeline. That was another version of me passing by.”

“Does this... happen often?” MC knitted their eyebrows.

Barbatos hesitated before answering. “Not really. It’s quite rare. Lord Diavolo has expressly forbidden me from using my full powers freely.”

“Ah... makes sense...”

“Now, I believe you came down for snacks?”

MC blinked in surprise. “How did you- oh... the time magic...”

“Yes, the time magic. Now, would you prefer yogurt and fruit, or apples and peanut butter?”

“Yogurt and fruit please!”

I’m sure MC’s knowledge of how Barbie’s room works will totally not come into play later. I’m sure.

Solomon and MC graced the brunch table with their cooking. I think you can guess how it would have turned out if Barbatos hadn’t intervened.

Rest In Peace to Beel’s tastebuds.

Anyway, the rest of the retreat was all fun and good.

MC may or may not have slipped up and called Diavolo ‘Dia’ in front of Lucifer. It would’ve sparked a lecture if Dia’s puppy-like excitement wasn’t so damn adorable.

Lucifer’s got a heart... somewhere... it’s probably all shrivelled up and tiny, but I’m sure it’s there.

Everyone went back home, brought closer together through... pillow fights and surviving Solomon’s cooking I guess..?

Anyway, MC got home, unpacked their stuff, watched Kakegurui with Levi and Mammon, let Asmo paint their nails, made and ate dinner with Beel, continued their piano lessons with Lucifer, and received a 100% fake smile from Satan.

It was a nice day with their new family, MC curled up in their bed and prepared to go to sleep.

“Help me!”

MC lurched upwards in their bed, whipping their head from side to side, trying to find the source of the voice. Their room was completely empty, the perks of being half demon extended to being able to see in the dark. No new smells either, they were alone in the room.

Auditory hallucinations were common before falling asleep after being sleep deprived, creepy, but not too unusual.

“MC!”

Okay- that one couldn’t be ignored. It was common knowledge that the House of Lamentation was definitely haunted in some capacity, but the ghosts never really bothered the demons living inside, MC was partly convinced that some of the ghosts didn’t even notice that the demons were there. So it couldn’t have been a ghost calling their name.

“MC! I need help!”

The voice reverberated through their head, like it was trying to hit every part of their skull to make sure it was at least felt if MC couldn’t hear it. MC massaged their scalp and got out of bed.

The House of Lamentation at night truly lived up to its haunted reputation. Cold, clammy, dark, even by demon standards. No spooky old house was going to scare MC though, they walked down the hall with their head held high.

They walked closer to walls and furniture, knowing that the floor was less likely to creak in those areas. How did they know that? Mammon had told them it worked like a charm. Well, it’d work better for him if he stopped tripping over the furniture and alerting Lucifer.

MC was much more nimble and careful, stepping slowly and lightly around the hallways until they reached the door to the attic. They reached out to clasp their hand around the doorknob, then froze. It smelled like…

Oh no.

MC leapt away from the door like it was rigged to explode if they touched it and practically dove for cover into an alcove. The all too-recent smell of Lucifer’s fancy cologne and the increasing sound of someone coming down the stairs made them clamp their hand over their mouth and crouch down.

What was their father doing up there?

He had said the attic was full of old junk and there was no reason to go up there, so why exactly did he-

The door slammed open and Lucifer stomped down the hallway back towards his room, MC presumed. They were about to let out a sigh of relief when the footsteps paused. MC felt their heart drop right into their gut when they heard the footsteps coming back in their direction.

What were they going to say to him when he found them? ‘Sorry! This isn’t where the bathrooms are!’ The last thing MC wanted was to add to their father’s ever growing list of stresses. MC was totally responsible and grown-up, their father didn’t need to worry.

MC clamped their eyes shut and tried to slow their heart rate. Demons were beings of darkness and shadow, they could blend in quite easily. They took a deep breath, cleared their head, and felt the shadows of the hallway shift and cover them like a blanket.

Lucifer’s footsteps stopped, MC heard a tired sigh, then the footsteps started up again, this time in the direction of his room.

They allowed themselves a sigh of relief before relieving themselves of their hiding space and opening the door leading to the attic staircase.

If the rest of the House of Lamentation was considered clammy, cold, and foreboding, the attic staircase was that multiplied by a factor of twelve. MC felt themselves shudder involuntarily when they stepped closer to the staircase. Every primal part of their brain was telling them to turn around and walk away, but one tiny part was holding them back. They placed their foot on the first step, waiting for any kind of resistance, nothing other than the feeling of passing through invisible cobwebs.

“MC?”

Upon hearing their name, MC craned their neck to try and get a look at what could be waiting for them at the top of the stairs.

“Are you coming, or not?”

The cascade of warning sirens that began to blare in MC’s head went ignored as they continued to scale the staircase.

When they reached the final step, they were met with a long hallway, with a single door on the right side of the wall.

“H-hello?” MC tried to instill some force into their voice, but it still ended up quavering a little.

“Down here.” Someone knocked on the wall next to the door, almost causing MC to jump.

Oh. Oh no. MC stood straight in front of the door, and when they saw who was looking back at them they nearly passed out.

“Belphegor..?”

Belphegor’s eyes flashed as he gave MC a once over. His eyes narrowed when his gaze snapped to MC’s. The analytical expression melted into a lazy grin.

“That’s me,” he said softly. “Nice to finally meet you, MC.”

[babs74]

Sunshine of your Love

Hallo! So this is my STL valentine for the lovely @anotheronebitestheskye. It’s my first ever go at writing, so please be gentle with me! But I’ve also actually really loved it! This is defo the start of a beautiful habit.

(I may actually be tempted to continue this story. It defo has legs!)

Fem!Reader x Ben Hardy

Mention of drugs, alcohol and cigarettes, but otherwise pretty vanilla.

It was the ocean y/n would miss most about this summer. The ocean and the music. Something about the way she could feel the cool spray against her face made everything feel that little bit more like an adventure.

Although to be fair, tonight was an adventure! Bernie had come to the ranch at the beginning of the summer to see the horses, and y/n had hoped he’d be back. Not that spending a summer in California wasn't her absolute dream, but after her first few weeks it was so lovely to hear a British accent again.

Not that she could even remember the quiet homesick girl from a few months ago. Maybe it was the ocean. Maybe the fact that months working outdoors made her legs look amazing in her tiny suede skirt (the one she was always too scared to wear back home, but had packed just in case…). Or maybe it was the music.

There has never been much of a music scene back in her quiet seaside hometown, but California in 1970 seemed to breathe music. Y/n had been reluctant when the other girls on the ranch had tried to drag her out to the Troubadour, but they said there had been this act last week called Elton John who was absolutely incredible, and they’d heard he might be back for more shows.

And he was British!

Well, she had been feeling low, so maybe something familiar would lift her mood.

It turned out Elton wouldn’t be back to the end of the summer, but the band that had played that night had blown her mind! The melodies, the lyrics, she’d never heard anything that felt so much like it was made actually for her. Definitely not the easy listening that seemed to constantly be on her parents radio back home.

Soon all her earnings from the ranch were going straight to Tower Records. She started to worry how she was going to get her ever growing record collection home! But she’d figure that out later.

She had one week left of this magical summer, and Bernie had been back at the ranch to invite her and the rest of the girls to the Troubadour where his ‘band’ were back to play. There was something different about him. His hair was that little bit longer, and he had definitely grown in confidence.

Maybe with some music and liqueur in him, he might actually have the confidence to make a move, y/n hoped.

*******

“Y/N! You came!!” Bernie shouted across the rammed bar.

“Bernie! Why the FUCK did you not mention you ‘band’ was Elton John, you sly little git”

Y/n made her way over to Bernie giggling and gave him a hug. As she broke away, she became painfully aware that in her enthusiasm for the set Elton had just played, she’d totally sweat through her gypsy top, and Bernie must have noticed. She cringed slightly.

She needn’t have worried though.

“Y/n, this is Heather. Heather, y/n. She works out on that ranch I was telling you about. It’s so beautiful out there, there are horses, and its all so wild, and...”

Y/n could see this wasn’t going to be the night. The look on Bernie’s face talking to this absolute goddess was enough for her to realise the battle was lost before she’d even managed to get a drink out of him!

Ah well, nothing lost I guess, thought y/n, so she grabbed herself a beer and was about to head back to her usual table when Bernie turned.

“Hey, you coming back for the after party? Think we’re going to head up to some cabin in Laurel Canyon, its meant to be amazing!”

Old y/n would have said no. Old y/n would have been worried she wouldn’t know anyone and been too nervous and just slink off home. But new y/n? California y/n? She had music in her soul, beer in her belly and a pack of smokes in her bag. Fuck it.

“Yeah sure! Will Elton be there? I can only imagine how crazy he is in real life. Shall I grab the girls as well?”

But Bernie was already back to swooning over Heather, so y/n grabbed the girls from their table and headed out front. She quickly spotted Elton’s band by their van, and was about to rally herself to go say hi when Penny, her closest and wildest friend at the ranch launched herself at them.

“Dee, hey baby!” She purred, wrapping herself around the bassist. Of course she had hooked up with the band when they first played here. Obviously. It was Penny. God y/n was going to miss her.

They piled into the back of the van, and two joints were sparked and handed round before they even got the door closed.

*******

Smoke and musicians tumbled out the van as they reached the house in the hills. Y/n had no idea whose place it was, but right now she didn’t care. She’d had a few swigs of Southern Comfort on the drive up, and in her head she was basically Janis Joplin, if only with slightly less hair.

She swung into the party with a gaggle of funsters; musicians, writers, groupies; no one could tell any difference now. You certainly wouldn’t have picked her out as a farm girl, but then that skirt really did work wonders!

But as y/n saw Penny disappear off with the bassist, she realised she didn’t actually know anyone here! She tried as best she could to imitate her best friend’s swagger, but the SoCo was wearing off, and she’d need some more Dutch courage if she was going to brave the party alone.

Drink in hand, y/n headed to the porch for a quick cig to calm herself before she threw herself headfirst into the hedonism. She fumbled a Marlborough light in between her lips (maybe the SoCo hadn’t worn off as much as she thought), but couldn’t for the life of her find her lighter in her small fringed bag.

“I swear I threw it in here before we…”

“Need a light?” Came a deep, gruff voice from behind her.

“That would be amazing, tha...oh...thanks!”

Y/n stumbled over her words as she spun around to be faced with the most beautiful, piercing eyes she had ever seen. She wasn’t sure if it was the booze coupled with the fresh air, but she suddenly felt quite dizzy.

She finally managed to get her sense back together.

“Yeah...yeah, thanks, I thought I had mine...but I must have...sorry you don’t care. Hi! I’m Y/n.”

“Hey y/n” he chuckled, “I’m Ben. Nice to meet another Brit out here.”

He looked down at his feet then fixed y/n with another mesmerising stare. God it felt like he could ruin her just with a look. But also, that kinda felt like...a move? Was that deliberate? Was he...flirting?

Y/n let out a giggle she wasn’t particularly proud of, but this man made her feel like a teenager! Get it together girl.

“Yeah, I’ve only met a few since I’ve been here. Came here with one actually, do you know Bernie?”

“Taupin? Yeah he’s an old mate! Reason I’m here actually as well. So...you’re here with him then?”

Those goddam eyes suddenly became incredibly puppy dog, and y/n couldn’t help but melt a bit. But also… “hang on”...she thought… “is he disappointed I might be taken?”

Y/n took it as a boost (along with another swig of her drink), and went for it.

“No no, not at all. I’m here by myself. Well, with you now I guess!”

Y/n tried to shoot Ben a flirty glance over the rim of her glass, but she suddenly felt incredibly inadequate in her eye-fuck game! She giggled to herself, but thought hell, we’re here now!

“So why are you here for Bernie?” Y/n continued.

“I’m a photographer. He asked me to come here with his band. I’ve been following that lot around all summer. It’s been great, but if I’m brutally honest, I’ll be glad to get back home. No one here can make a decent cuppa, and I know it sounds ridiculous...but…” he trailed off, smiling to himself and looked down at his feet again.

“What’s ridiculous? I’m sure it's not!” Y/n tried a tentative stroke of Ben’s not-insignificant arm as she started to feel really warm around him. And she was fairly sure this wasn’t just the booze anymore!

“It’s just, I miss my dog! She’s so cute, and...ah shit, I’m trying to come off as cool…I’ve ruined it haven’t I! Shit…” he trailed off with a chuckle.

“Not at all! I love animals. I’m actually working at a ranch down in the valley for the summer. I love working with the horses, hoping I can get a proper job in it one day. Need to finish uni first though. God, now I’m the one blabbering…”

“No, no way! I love hearing people talk about what they love. Girls always like the idea I’m a photographer, but they switch off as soon as I actually start talking about lenses and stuff.”

He’d gone full puppy dog again, and y/n couldn’t help but stare. God he was beautiful.

“Well!” She broke the silence, just on the verge of becoming awkward. “I can’t do anything about the dog, but you can definitely come by the ranch for a proper cup of tea! Might even have some custard creams my mum sent me left.”

Ben’s eyes lit up. Y/n could tell if it was the invite generally, or the biscuits in particular, but she knew that her stomach was suddenly doing backflips at the sight of his cheesy little smirk.

“Yeah definitely, sounds amazing! It’s a date.”

Those last few words nearly knocked y/n to the floor. She could feel another school girl giggle coming if she wasn’t careful.

Thankfully she heard the muffled opening riff of ‘Sunshine of your Love’ coming from the party inside. Cream was one of her favourite discoveries of the summer.

“Great! Come on, I love this song!” Y/n grabbed Ben’s hand and dragged him inside to enjoy the music. She thought she just might have discovered her best favourite yet...

[kalendraashtar]

Fanfiction - Dark Shines

Friday 13th and a Harvest Moon call for witches and crime stories! This chapter debuts an incredible new moodboard, made with love by the amazing @sassy-sassenach and lovingly accepted by this author. Thank you so much! ❤

Part I, Part II

Dark Shines

Part III – Tasseography

Behind the ash wood door was a spacious room, substantially darker than the inside of the Beauchamp’s Cup front store. Still, that diffuseness didn’t feel like the dimness of depraved things, but more like the controlled atmosphere meant to protect old books and antique items.

Jamie could identify hundreds of glass jars and wooden boxes, made of a myriad of different colours and shapes. There were also books aplenty, some neatly stored in a massive bookcase against the back of the space, others – probably the ones more frequently used – stacked in piles between the two worktables and the imponent desk.  The writing table was built from a beautiful white wood with an almost invisible grain, ivory-like, that Jamie eventually identified as holly, one of the sacred trees of the old druids.

There were also other objects scattered around the surfaces, stranger and somehow more disturbing in their simplicity – a small silver bell, a pendulum, several knives in different sizes, candles and a totally black tea-set, with seven delicate-looking cups and a robust teapot, which sparkled like an onyx stone would under the intense gaze of the moon.

“Tea first, I think.” Claire said amiably, pointing him in the direction of a plush burgundy armchair in front of her desk. Jamie nodded and tried not to stare openly around him, half-expecting her to go for the wicked looking set of porcelain. Instead, she retrieved a fairly common pair of tea-cups from a sideboard, reassuringly white with the rim simply embellished with soft pink lilies. “Do you have a preference?”

“Whichever ye’re having is fine.” The criminal profiler answered, studying the tea-maker as she prepared the infusion with the measured practice and solemnness of a ritual. After she offered him a cup, pungent with the fragrancy of mint and lemon verbena, Jamie thought he had endured enough politeness for the time being. “So, will ye tell me about the true nature of yer relationship with Morag MacKenzie and Mary Hawkins, Miss Beauchamp?”

The rumoured-witch sipped her tea placidly, blowing softly against the rim of the cup, a magnetic movement of her lips that drew gooseflesh on his arms. “They were faithful clients, almost since I founded the company a couple years back.” She nodded to herself, seemingly content either with the taste of the brewing or with the progress of the conversation. “And they were...curious, about other subjects. Sympathizers, one might say.”

“Do ye mean that they were some kind of witch-groupies?” The man raised a brow, mechanically stirring the liquid with an odd-looking small teaspoon, the point carved like a coiled snake.

“I’m not a member of the Beatles, Agent Fraser.” Claire rolled her eyes, scrunching her perfectly perky nose. “They weren’t groupies. They were interested in some aspects of power and the barriers that stop most people from using it.”

“Were they yer version of Muggles, then?” James Fraser smiled bitterly, silently reprehending himself for letting his own perspective on the subject so abundantly clear. He needed her help, as much as he was convinced that she was a blatant schemer. “I gather from what ye’re sharing that they didn’t have any…power of their own.”

Claire’s eyes fixed on his face, with an intensity that was almost predatory, and then they slowly descended to his upper leg, where he felt her gaze like the two gunshots that had once pierced his flesh, hot and devastating like speeding bullets. It was strange to be once again close to people who knew part of his story, even though they couldn’t possible fathom him.

When her lips moved, it felt like being underwater listening to the secrets of a siren, that he could never accurately reproduce. “Everyone has power. Maybe not what we’d prefer - but some. You won’t find any magical wands here, Mister Fraser, but there are still instruments – conduits, if you’d like – that one might use to do…what I do.”

“And what is that, exactly?” He raised his brow, his tone lowering to a not-too-subtle provocation. Jamie was trying to draw her out, to force her to show more of herself openly - most people revealed plenty with the simplest behaviours, like a choice of recurrent words or hand mannerism, but Claire Beauchamp was undecipherable.

“More tea would be nice, wouldn’t it?” She didn’t wait for his answer, diligently grabbing his cup to refill it from the steaming teapot. Claire squinted at the bottom of his empty cup and then smiled, a lopsided movement of lips that was the true portrait of light-heartedness.

“Found something amusing there?” Jamie asked, annoyed at the growing feeling of rawness, of extreme and unwanted exposure. “I dinna believe in fortune-telling or in the reading of tea leaves, so spare me the telling of some grand adventure in my future, aye?”

“You put too much sugar in your tea.” She revealed cheerfully, deliberately ignoring his borderline-rude remarks. “I don’t need to resort to tasseography to realize that you’ve already experienced too much bitterness in your life.” With ease, she returned him the teacup refilled with a second helping of the hot beverage. “Besides, there’s always more of someone’s past at the bottom of a cup than of the future. That’s the nature of the leaves themselves – they are the tea’s past.”

Jamie offered her a narrow and cold indigo look, retrieving a pen from his pocket to scribble down some notes. “Do people really fall for these tricks?”

“Do people really fall for the brooding and intimidating approach?” She quirked her lips as if she was about to laugh aloud and with a strange twitch his pen fell from his hand, as if it had acquired a life of its own. The policeman bent down haphazardly to catch it, furrowing his brow. “I’m guessing there was something else you needed from me, Agent Fraser, if you chose to come here in the first place. What brought you around, before I volunteered the information that I knew two of the victims?”

“I’m the one who should ask the questions here, Miss Beauchamp.” He clenched his jaw and, before he could continue, his pen – which had been innocently resting on the table, after a stalled first attempt at escaping his possession – slid from the edge of the table and rolled happily away.

“Must be an air draft. Edinburgh and old buildings, you know?” Claire sipped another generous gulp of her tea, her grin barely hidden behind the cup. “Ask away, Agent Fraser. I’ll be on my very best behaviour.”

Before Jamie could explain the mysterious symbols that had led him to her door, and show her some of the illustrating crime scene photos, his phone vibrated inside his pocket.

“Fraser.” John said, with a hint of excitement and consternation in his voice. “We have a fifth victim. Uniforms responded to a call from neighbours complaining of a dog who wouldn’t stop barking, and found another atrocious scene. Meet me there?”

“Aye. Text me the location.” Jamie said shortly and ended the call, when in all truth he wanted to yell a wholehearted “Fuck!”. “Miss Beauchamp, I’m afraid our interview will have to be postponed. I might come by tomorrow for some further inquiries.”

“Of course.” She raised from her chair, the dove around her neck seemingly flapping her wings for a short fraction of time, that left Jamie wondering about the true contents of his afternoon tea. “I’m not always here, so I’ll give you my home’s address in case you need to reach me.” She politely walked him to the door, the very impersonation of an impeccably mannered hostess.

“I’ll be in touch.” Jamie said; it was meant as a farewell, but somehow it sounded like a threat. Claire shrugged and waved him off as he closed the door behind him with more firmness than usual.

Only when the young, yet seasoned, criminal profiler reached his car did he realize that he couldn’t really remember the details of Claire Beauchamp’s face – only her striking eyes. It was as if she had hidden herself behind a curtain of undisturbed mist.

***

The scene in front of them was oddly, but not at all reassuringly, similar to the ones they had witnessed, either in first-hand or by way of photographs.

“Another woman. But I guess that’s not surprising.” John said in a murmur, shaking his blonde head. He was paler than usual, and a few wrinkles in his usually impeccable shirt denounced a bone-deep tiredness. “So far the forensic team couldn’t find any signs of forced entry. Again.”

Jamie nodded in agreement, their train of thought synchronized like a flock of birds during murmuration. “These women know the unsub. There’s no way around it, really. They willingly opened the door to let him in, probably entertained him for a while before things took a verra gruesome turn. They didn’t foresee any danger coming from that person.”

“But while they seem to know him, he doesn’t show any classical signs of regret or guilt, does he?” John pursed his lips in concentration. “The unsub didn’t cover her bodies or place them in any comfortable or nurturing position. Didn’t leave any tokens to show respect, as well.”

“Aye.” Jamie sighed and crouched down, his eyes slowly trailing down the cold body of the most recent victim, as if her skin could whisper the name of the perpetrator through its pores. “But this also isna sexual. He doesn’t engage in sexual intercourse with them perimortem, even if all of them were young and bonny. No evidence that he wanks in the scene or that he takes anything other than the forefinger to fantasize later.” His eyes searched for his companion’s. “This doesn’t seem like a true-born serial killer to me, to be honest. More like a hitman, eliminating specific targets for a very earthily reason.”

“I don’t know many hitmen that make such a spectacle of their killings, though.” They walked to the threshold of the room, watching as Denzel gave instructions to some uniformed officers to collect statements with the neighbours. “Usually a revolver or a good piece of sturdy nylon around the neck. This scene took time and intention.”

“Maybe all the production around the murder is the most important part of why he does it.” The redheaded profiler theorized. “It can all be about the ritual.”

“We’re still waiting on her ID.” John brushed his forehead. “But plenty of pictures around.” He pointed towards a large frame with his pen, where a photo of the victim surrounded by other women dwelled. She was abundantly black-haired, with a unique white streak in her bangs, and warm and sapient brown eyes. All the faces depicted were either smiling broadly or making funny faces, as they sat around a presumable beach bonfire.

“A mhic an diabhoil!” Jamie’s jaw dropped, as he slowly approached the image and almost touched one of the women’s faces. “I think that’s the woman I’ve just met at the teashop.”

[kyufiber-moved]

I feel like u have a lot of amazing ideas. Can u list them all our do u wanna keep them secret? Like a big masterlist of all the types of aus u wanna write someday. I know i have like 3 pages of ideas. I've actually written down plots to a lot of them, but i don't get much father than that 😬 -🐖

wkjefkwej i do have lots of ideas ((idk about AMAZING damn ily) but most of them are just swirling around my head tbh,,, i have an 18 page google doc with old ideas but then i didnt keep writing ideas down there so ,,, it would be like 30 pages long if i had kept at it ksjdfkjefj

i do want to ((for the most part)) keep my ideas secret so that 1. ppl wont use them before i can SKFKJE and 2. so that if i do post / write / etc them, ppl won’t have alr seen them before !!! but i can post vague-ish ?? summaries of them !!!! also this turned out to be way longer than i thought so . apologies

modern cinderella sns au

hanahaki au 

ao haru ride au

modernized jane eyre au

love alarm au

stoic tsundere chef!kyungsoo (see here)

au based off of shinee’s view music video (which i alr kinda did with runaways but . still ive had this idea for years)

tatbilb au

teacher x student au

fashion blogger!y/n

bad bitch!y/n and nerd!main lead

false memories au ((a lot more complicated but hard to explain simply so,,, ill leave it at that))

au based off of the dawnguard quest in skyrim ((but just the ‘100′s of years old vampire locked in a crypt gets found by random human’ part))

au based off groupie love by lana del rey

something with the title “1-800-CUPID” ((if someone takes this i will literally cry just . dont do it . im gonna use it at some point))

something with the title “101 ways to get the girl” AGAIN DONT TAKE IT

guy takes nerdy girls and turns them into bad bitches formula au

ur new teacher / teaching assistant / boss / etc is the one night stand you had the previous night OOPS

secretly dating au

boarding school au

harry potter au 

au based off airplane by ikon

fuckboy!heejun

au based off she’s a baby by zico

halloween party costume... turns out to not be a costume :> im mostly a  romance writer but this could go a horror route idk

this svt series i was gonna do where each of them had a love story... i can list them if you want but i think i deleted the drafts bc im ocd and have a need to clean out my drafts smh... ok they are as follows ((ill prob end up writing some of these and maybe/probably changing the idol but who knows)) :

(minghao) ur bff tags you and the boy u like in an ig pic and the pic says “tag ur best friend and their crush to ruin their life” 

(jun) FAKE fake dating au ((aka guy gets girl to fake date him so his parents will back off of asking him if he has a gf except he actually likes her and its a plan to get her to fall in love w him LOL))

(jeonghan) ice cream shop summer job au feat. flirty main lead

(chan) girl and guy have a prank war that’s been ongoing for two years ever since he accidentally did smth to her and they’re rivals but then he witnesses a moment right after her bf breaks up with her and is like ok we r bffs now and yeah . its cute in theory

(wonwoo) girl is at a party and kisses someone but bc she was intoxicated she doesn’t remember who it was and the plot is her narrowing down who kissed her etc

(mingyu) best friends to lovers bc of a game of spin the bottle HAH ik its cliche but idc

(seungkwan) girl is a prim and proper student but parties over the summer and makes a whOLE fool out of herself in front of guy at one such party but she’s like eh im embarrassed but ill never see him again so its ok except . he turns out to be a transfer to her school

(woozi) guy and girl are main leads and romantic partners etc in play / movie / whatever and while they film / practice an actual behind the scenes romance develops

(dk) guy who is energetic and spastic meets rlly stoic and cold girl bc they’re lab partners and he melts her cold ass exterior

(hoshi) girl is the only daughter of a super rich family and boy is the son of the family’s maid / etc and they run into each other and end up falling for each other despite the class difference, which causes conflict later on when they want to be together yeehaw

(joshua) girl and guy are close friends n one time their friend who is an aspiring youtuber is filming and he’s like listen i want views yall should kiss . and the girl is like no ??? what . and the guy is like surprise ! and kisses her and it changes their relationship oop

(hansol) brother’s best friend!au . simple as that tbh skejfke

and lastly (scoups) famous idol!guy and company intern!girl who definitely shouldnt like each other but . totally do 

ok anyways continuing on bc my ideas never fucking stop . oblivious! popular boy taehyung and lovesick!y/n desperately trying to get it into his rock dumb brain that she likes him

i also had this idea for kim doyoung and kim gongmyung like . about the girl liking one of them and then him breaking her heart and its like a year later and she ends up with his little brother . yanno . ok

arranged relationship au BUT with a twist bc the girl also has a bf at school (basically,, something similar to my little bride??? but not the same,, just similar)

cute new boy vs bff boy who has a secret crush on oc

au based off boys by charli xcx 

au based off in your pocket by maroon 5

sugar daddy!au

then ofc i have ones ive actually started which are:

au based off mistakes like this by prelow

au based off leave your lover by echos

au based off the mv for view by shinee yanno yanno i mentioned that

royalty!dawon and bodyguard!y/n whose real identity turns out to b something nobody knew about oops

wow i didnt know i had so many ideas when will i chill

[foreverandalwayscrysis]

Eisha’s Bellarke Fic Rec Masterlist

An anon asked me (BACK IN AUGUST, I’M SORRY ANON) for my favorite Bellarke fics and I kinda went overboard? Not sorry. The ones bolded & italicized are some of my top favorites/most memorable ones I’ve read!

Authors, if you’d like me to remove your tags, please let me know! All links lead to AO3 profiles.

Modern AU - Multiple Chapters

Picking Up What You’re Laying Down – rated E – by verbaepulchellae – @verbam

Yall... I owe this fic my firstborn.

Aurora Borealis – rated E – by enoughtotemptme – @enoughtotemptme - tattoo artist Bellamy and florist Clarke? Yes.

The Odds are Good – rated E – by tacosandflowers – @tacosandflowers - This is the whitewater kayaking fic you didn’t know you needed, BUT YOU DO.

Extra bonus: New Expectations – Rated T 

Sleight of Hand - rated E - by prosciutto - enemies to friends to lover while on a heist and honestly, I wasn’t ready.

Don’t Wake Me, I’m Not Dreaming – rated M – by grumpybell - @grumpybell - If you haven’t read Erin’s works by now, what are you doing? Go. Read. Fall in love. Cry! (hi Erin!!!)

when there’s nothing left to burn, you have to set yourself on fire - rated M - by theoneinquisitor

“the angsty bellarke boxing fic literally no one asked for”

Vienna Waits For You - rated M - by panem_et_circenses

“ Clarke sort of launches herself - or maybe just her lips? - at Bellamy to avoid an awkward encounter with her ex.”

tooi mirai ni doko e yuku no - rated E - by Chash

I Make My Own Luck – rated M – by somethingofatrainwreck

After All - rated E - by lightyears 

When The Sun Came Up, You Were Looking At Me) – rated M – by heartsinsync - @lydia-martin 

Just Like the Kids in Art School Said They Would – Rated M – by LayALioness 

100 Ark Street – rated T - by smallerontheoutside - @smallerontheoutside 

My Mind Forgets to Remind Me (You’re a Bad Idea) – rated M – by prosciutto - @prosciuttoe

You Should Say Hi – rated M – by redwild_rush

Every Little Thing She Does is Magic – rated T – by prosciutto

AUs – One Shots/Single Chapters/Drabbles

Canon AU:

sleeping like we’re lovers - rated M - by cassiesandsmarked

And then it’s just too much (I cannot get you close enough) - rated E - by verbaepulchellae

the spine of your body and its bones - rated T - by coffee_grounders

Coffeeshop AUs:

Name Tag – rated T – by HomebodyNobody - @smolmontygreen

Life Stories Are Second Date Material – rated G – by nymja - @gizkasparadise

Always Me That Ends up Getting Wet – rated T - by chash - @ponyregrets

Where Everybody Knows Your Name - rated G - by chash

Let Me Show You Them - rated G - by chash

A Cup of Coffee, a Sandwich and You – rated T – marauders_groupie - @marauders-groupie - Bellarke being total nerds with matching shirts, obviously.

Lights, camera, action – rated E – by orphan_account - This account has over 4485 fandoms. If you can name it, it has it. There are 324 fics for The 100.

Not An Average Cup of Joe - rated G - by Kacka - @katchyalater 

College/University AU:

Cancelled Benefits – rated E – by asroarke - @asroarke 

Sounds Fake But Okay - rated T - by asroarke - @asroarke

Embrace it, princess because I love everything about you – rated E – by EmmaVentury

what goes around comes around (just like a flip turn) - rated M - by emullz

Game on – by winterwaters 

Wrapped It Up and Sent It – rated T – by prosciutto

How You Get The Girl – rated E - by chash - @ponyregrets 

The Cosmic Ballet Goes On - rated T- by chash

The Man Who’s Working Hard For You - rated T - by chash

No One Can Lift the Damn Thing - rated M - by chash

Last Round For A.M. Lovers - rated T - by LayALioness

How It Is For Us - rated M - by LayALioness

This is good a place to fall as any – rated E – by MissMarissa

We will stumble through heaven – rated E – by MissMarissa

Tastes sweet like sugar – rated E – by lightyears

Sexretary – rated E – by lightyears

Love is a Trip (But Fuckin’ is a Sport) – rated E – by caramelle

Gimme That Sugar With The Sweet Talk - rated E - by twilightstargazer

You Think This Happens Every Day? - rated E - by arysa13

Fantasy/Magic AU:

With A Mouthful of Thorns - rated T - by grumpybell

Only The Sound of Our Breath Soaks In - rated G - by LayALioness

Make My Messes Matter - rated T - by prosciutto

what do stars do best? - rated G - by MercuryM

It’s Such An Ancient Pitch - rated G -by LayALioness

Flower Shop AUs:

The Nature of My Game – rated T – by chash

Next To You (The Skies are Blue) – rated M – by thingcalledlove

Flower Therapy – rated G – by dimplesmcflirt - @thesongwithin

Bellamy steals flowers from Clarke’s garden to visit his mother’s grave.

Stubborn Asshole - rated E - by dimplesmcflirt

Bellamy apologizes with a yellow balloon.

Glasses!Bellamy:

Seldom Make Passes – rated T – by chash

Suddenly I see (this is what I wanna be) – rated T – by caramelle

Harry Potter AU:

The Giant Squid’s Got Nothing On You – rated T – by twilightstargazer - @hiddenpolkadots​ 

Why Don’t We Break The Rules, Already? - rated M - by LayALioness 

where dwell the brave at heart - rated T- by spiekiel 

Pro Bono - rated T - by chash

Curriculum Vitae - rated T - by chash

Librarian!Bellamy:

Check Me Out – rated E – by chash

Don’t Trust People Who Read Fight Club - rated T - by maurauders_groupie

let your magic pull me in - rated T - by MercuryM

gonna check you out - rated T - by kay_emm_gee

Modern Setting AU:

third time’s the charm - not rated* - by cosmic_kate

see they want to buy my pride - rated T - by spiekiel

People Are Strange When You’re A Stranger - rated G - by LayALioness

stumbling upon cosmos - rated M - by flirtingwithtrackers

a character study (of sorts) - rated T - by orangecoconut

Bellarke from Murphy’s perspective.

Happy New Year, Losers – rated T – by by chash - The Office AU!

Better to Give than to Receive – rated E – by chash

Sequel: Tis The Season - rated T - by chash

If You Do It Right, It is Sublime – rated T – by chash

We Never Go Out of Style - rated T - by chash

The Weather Outside is Frightful - rated E - by chash

What We Do To Each Other - rated M - by maurauders_groupie

You Look As Good As The Day I Met You - rated T - by prosciutto

Bellarke with Pets:

To Those Who Know How to Listen – rated T – @enoughtotemptme 

Love in the Time of Cats – rated G – by sheryl_sems

Puppy Love - rated G - by asroarke

Roomates AU:

A Little Bit of Something (God, It’s Better Than Nothing) – rated T – by grumpybell 

Someday – rated T 

No Space Lies In Between - rated M - by prosciutto

Social Media Bellarke:

after the beep (i’ll tell you i love you) - rated T - by emullz

Flowers Fade, But The Internet Lasts Forever – not rated – by caramelle

Why Do You Write Like You’re Running Out Of Time - rated T - by chash

That’s What You Think, Captain Cocky - rated M - by chash

You’re Cool On The Internet, At Least - rated T - by prosciutto

Instincts - rated T - by abldav

Soulmate AU:

In Words And Pictures - rated T - by lettertoelise

Focal Point - rated T - by grumpybell

Space AU:

These Arms of Mine - rated M - by talistheintrovert - @talistheintrovert (HI BABE ILY, THIS LIST TOOK ME MONTHS)

Sun Lights Up The Daytime - rated E - by Chash

ikite yuku tame ni - rated G - by Chash

Superhero AU:

I've Been Dreaming of You from the Other Side (I Know You So Well) – rated E – by chash

And That’s Terrible - rated T - by chash

situation normal, all fucked up - not rated - by questionablemorals

Teacher/Teaching AU:

veni, vidi, vici - rated T - by chash

afraid to call this place our own - rated E - by HawthorneWhisperer

teacher’s pet - rated E - by troubledpancakes 

Collections/Series with varying prompts:

A Light That’s Keeping Us Forever – rated E – by enoughtotemptme

Kiss Her Twice, Keep The Night On – rated E – by prosciutto

Neeeeeeeeeerds – rated E – by Chash

Clarke joins the Junior Classical League, for Bellamy.

Get Me Some of That - rated E - by panem_et_circenses

We Fall Together - rated T - by kacka

Stupid for You – rated G – by ix3thehpseries

When you land on Earth - rated M - by MercuryM

[groupie-inspired]

The meet & greet

I was just thinking over how I ended up wanting to be a groupie in the first place and I am having all these flashbacks of stuff I did when I was younger. Here is one of those stories.

The summer before my freshman year (I was 13), my best friend S and I decided to go to a Shane Dawson meet and greet in the city. It was in a Barnes and Noble. In order to get in, you had to get a color coded wristband and buy at least one signed book. The problem was, my friend’s dad was NOT about that getting up early stuff at that moment so I was responsible for securing our wristbands. Let me tell you, this was a fucking ordeal. My dad and I get there at around 6:00... the line is already around the block. Mind you, this an NYC block— not a normal block. I’m thinking, oh shit. I get in line and my dad stays off to the side. I end up speaking with some girls and we’re all like chatting and one girl recorded me for her vlog. I never did get to see that vlog, though. It’s hard for me to describe this part of the story because it was like a never ending expanse of nothingness. It was a line. All I remember, is that the disorganization of the whole thing was immediately clear. I don’t remember the exact details of when the doors were meant to open, but all of the sudden some girls (I mean boys were there but not as many) are walking out with their books and red wristbands. That means they were the first in, but no one was supposed to be let in yet. Then things stop for a really long time and I’m like. Omg.

Fast forward, this goes on for multiple hours. FINALLY, I somehow am inside. I think I cut it pretty close because my wristband was purple, and if the first girls had red ones this was a ROYGBIV situation. I knew going in though, that it was only supposed to be people who were there who got wristbands. I had to somehow get another wristband out of the cashier. I get mine and put it on, and my dad says to him, “Her brother isn’t feeling well so he didn’t come to wait on line, can we have another for him?” The guy experienced some hesitation but overall was really nice, so his attitude was, “I’m not supposed to do this, but if you buy two books I’ll give it to you.” My friend wanted a book anyway, so we were golden. Boom. I got it. I go home for a few meager hours of rest before I have to go back again for our time slot.

My friend’s dad and her meet me at my house. There’s a bus stop around the corner, and we wait there until we catch the bus into the city. Once we get there, the situation gets really chaotic. It was the end of July so it was HOT as FUCK out. But we aren’t at that point in the story just yet.

Naturally, we go and sit inside the store. Her dad left to do something for a minute so we were just there on the floor. A girl with winged eyeliner and frizzy blonde hair comes up to me. “Hey, how did you get a wrist band?” In hindsight, knowing what I know now, I’m pretty sure this girl was probably significantly more experienced in this type of situation than I was. She wasn’t waiting on line if she was able to work around it. So I tell her, “Oh sorry, you had to be there this morning. I’m not sure if they have any left, but you can ask.” She goes and asks, and she was told no. I didn’t see her again until later.

At some point, we were told to move upstairs. Then, we were told to move outside. They kept playing fucking musical chairs with where they were going to have the crowd. We stood in that heat for hours. In those days, I wasn’t expecting that. I wasn’t emotionally prepared. But there we were. I met some other people too. One girl had colorful hair. I think I can’t remember this event as well as others because the sun on my head gave me memory loss or something 💀.

After an extended period of time, we are finally brought into the building again and wait in yet another line. Once we’re at the second level, I see the blonde girl again. The security guard is standing right by the escalator, and from his expression I can see he is worn out. Who wouldn’t be, given the dismal state of the crowd control in that place? I guess I can’t blame the store for being unprepared... it’s a bookstore, not a concert venue or something. I can see her assessing the situation. She chooses what she deems the correct moment, and slides into the horde of us that are waiting to be let up to the final level— the last thing standing between us and what we came here for. He’s checking everybody’s wrist bands. She almost gets past him, but no such luck. He gets quite an attitude with her, and I get the impression that wasn’t their first interaction that day. She goes off to the side and starts texting.

My friend and I are let upstairs where we wait again. There’s a whole security thing we have to go through, and finally we are able to take our photo with Shane Dawson. He was really nice, but by this point I was less than enthused about the situation. I saw on Instagram that people who stayed upstairs or had different colored wristbands got to see a speech of some sort, and got to use fun props and pose with him and everything. I was a little annoyed. Still, the photo happened and it was nice. The girl who went before us, though, was having a total meltdown. I mean, hysterical crying. Shrieking. I didn’t understand why this girl was out here letting it all go instead of making a good impression. Sometimes I wonder what her and blonde girl are doing these days.

We took the bus home. The whole day was exhausting. I know now that meet & greets are not worth it, like at all. But I was thirteen I didn’t even know that there could ever be another option— not in regards to that specific situation, but just in general. I just wanted to meet the person who’s content I admired, and interact with them.

My point in telling this story, is that I think I always had the groupie spirit in me LOL. I’m not in the scene yet, obviously, but mostly because of circumstances making it so I haven’t been able to try. I’m a hard worker when it comes to this stuff!! But I don’t have the necessary toolkit *cough* ID *cough* to even gain entrance to the places I want to go. Let me tell you, I did HOURS of research. I asked friends. I asked my friends’ friends. Unfortunately, to no avail. As of now, I can only go where the law lets me. My main goal right now is like... trying to network I guess? When I can go to concerts, I’m trying to meet other girls who maybe know what they’re doing or have resources that I don’t. At this point I don’t really care what anyone thinks or what anyone tells me is the “right” way to be. I’m a creative person and I have a need to be around other creative people, what can I do? I love music and art and the world and I need to be around people who know what it means to truly love those things and have it as an inseparable part of yourself. I’ll keep trying!

If you all thought this story was fun I definitely have more I can tell you about. I appreciate if you give me feedback, it helps me know that people are listening and that I’m not screaming into the void. Xx

[snoopyrps]

hello lucky !! we hope you’re having a fantastic day, and that this ask finds you well !! us at touringhq were wondering if you could give us your opinion of us ?? we’re about the story of twelve recent college-aged friends who are faced with a choice they never expected; do they jump onto the opportunity to fulfill a childhood dream and tour with warped tour as their old high school punk band, or do they turn towards a life of monotony and job security, and leave music behind ?? thank you !!

of course !! i,, love doing opinions tbh. under the cut !!

url: ok, so my first thought related to how simple it is. i like that it gets to the point, namely because there have been some rps in the tags that i’ve gotten one impression of when it wound up being completely different ( i thought a small town rp was a boarding school rp for a very long time ). i think that’s generally going to be the first thing people look at. i don’t know how everyone else feels about really general urls, but i know what this is about off the bat and y’all also already have all of your pages linked using it SO.

graphics: i never talk much about graphics, namely because i can barely figure psds out, but i like the color scheme ! that’s gone over some more in the theme subsection of ‘accessibility’.

theme: i’m not one to really judge on themes –– as you can see, mine is very simple and i haven’t changed my header color to make it… more visible… in six months. that being said, i can still confidently say that i do like your theme and the color scheme. i really like the font ? i don’t know why but ? my compliments to the creator. accessibility – navigation: the links at the bottom are super easy to find – love that. the arrows ( or ‘next/back’ ) aren’t where i was expecting them to be, so i had to do a little bit of scouring, but overall: easy to find. navigation page itself is SO EASY. the pretty navigation pages of this day and age are nice, do not get me wrong, but the navigation page itself is so easy to navigate. accessibility – misc. comments: i don’t have any visual impairments, so i can’t speak on that matter, but i do feel like i could add on that i get overwhelmed by various themes VERY easily ( e.g. a friend of mine rec’d an rp to me and wound up having to link me to its mobile page ). the cool colors ( combined with the pastel warmer ones ) –– my compliments to the chef.

plot: i’m over here geeking out tbh. i… have never had a band… rip… but, boy, if i don’t act like i do ! ok, anyway ! i think that, overall, the plot is clear. it’s very easy to grasp and the tl;dr at the bottom really does sum everything up. the only tip i would give is mentioning when they went to high-school/the grade(s) they were in, that way people have an age range, and possibly mentioning the band name too ? 

rules: i think you about covered it all. the only tips i would have would be translating ‘72 hours’ to ‘three days’ for dumbasses like myself whose highest grade on a pre-cal test was a 34 ( then went to summer school and finally got those credits, but only passing with the bare minimum ). 

skeletons: i think you have a really good balance of characters in there. i really like the diversity you guys already have with your own characters, as well as the diversity you’re demanding for the singer, the drummer, the manager, and the groupie. i also like how you’ve kept the descriptions simple ! i would still recommend putting a hard age range on –– at least for the band members, as 20+ could be anywhere from 20 to 54 to 85 to me continuously using hyperbolic examples to get my point across. pinterest & playlists: awesome add-ons ! the one question i would have for the playlists –– and i totally get that you can’t really… answer it… in that link… but: are they based on the type of music the character listens to? or are they meant to sum up the character?misc. comments: “evans… and not remo.” - me, looking at the drummer’s pinterest, offended that my favorite brand has been tossed aside for its rival in the snare picture without the vic firth drumsticks. “no semi-hollow body guitars… i see…” - me, the biggest stan of semi-hollow body guitars, looking at the guitarist’s pinterest and pretending semi-hollow bodies are actually often used in punk. 

* glanced over characters and taken fcs, but figured there was nothing to give an opinion on.

banned faceclaims: this is just a quick one… but i… honestly… appreciate y’all banning bts. i feel like everyone needs to stop brushing off their problematic behavior ( especially some of the individuals’ like kim namjoon’s ), but that’s a topic for another time. i also like that you allow people to ask. i’m completely fine when a roleplay doesn’t, of course –– i understand the logic, but it’s nice to give people some answers.

application: the big one ! it looks like a basic semi-appless application, so that’s all good with me ! i feel like ‘the basics’ section is a little open-ended, but that can definitely be a good thing for a lot of people and can tell you how one person thinks versus another. i also know it’ll be harder for others who are used to more “give us 2/¾+ paragraphs about ____” or “list 2/¾+ headcanons for _____” or “list 2/¾+ possible connections for _____” etc. tl;dr: this subsection of my opinion was useless adfjl

faq: so you know i went through and read all of them ! ok, ignore my earlier age range comments – i would delete them, but i think i’ve made them a few times and i… don’t want to go back up and find them. anyway ! i still might think about putting the direct age range for band members on their skeletons, but that’s my only further suggestion ! that being said, i’d also recommend looking up the ages of suggested fcs, just because i saw some suggested early-30s fcs for characters in bands, but that’s it !

pinterest: do i love it ? yes sir’ee, i do ! i skimmed through ‘the before’ and ‘the tour’ and it really gave me a feel for that sort of ‘rag-tag team of kids actually tries to make it,’ which seems to be the foundation of this roleplay. playlist: i kind of have the same question as i did for the skeletons – is this what they sound like or what’s sort of supposed to sum all of them up ? going through it and looking at the bands/songs y’all chose, i’ve got a feeling it’s both which works very well, but i’m a curious sob.

misc. tips: i did notice one thing: for the most part, y’all use the same tags. there’s obviously nothing wrong with that – you want to reach your target audience – but i would suggest branching out into other areas that apply. i assume it’s going to be very writing-based – if i’m assuming correctly, i’d suggest ‘lsrp/lsrpg’ ( but only for Official Promos bc that tag is Fancy ) ; i’d definitely suggest ‘fame rp’ ; i’d also suggest the regular ‘rp’ and ‘rpg’ ; i’d limit the use of ‘rpc’ due to some members of the rpc not liking seeing promos that aren’t shoutouts/opinions in the tag ; i’d also limit the use of ‘small group rp’ – i’d still use it, just not as frequently as it seems you guys are due to it not being a super popular tag.

further questions: how will this run ? like, will it be a limited time deal, only running until the tour is up, or will you find ways to keep it running past ?

overall: i really like this ! i only had a few questions when i went through all of the pages, what as opposed to as many as i… do sometimes have and feel like it would be too critical to ask because no one asked for your opinion, lucky! i think it’s beautifully diverse. i love the amount of thought you guys clearly put into it. i had fun critiquing pinterest’s choice of drum heads (granted… i think the other picture is ambassador vintage remo…). i may even fool around and look at it further, this time from a potential applicant standpoint. 

9/10 !

[av3da]

REQUESTED!!

heyoooooooo! it’s been a few weeks (definitely months) & i kept saying i would write again but i did not yikes. anyways i’ve been reading lately & getting some inspiration so yeah. this is trash cause i’m not good at luke stuff, i did get A LITTLE carried away with this word count wise, trying to make up for how crappy it was. 

i K N O W luke doesn’t have tattoos. but i used that to my advantage for the sake of the story to pretned he had a secret one. which hemight for all we know.

lie to me has been stuck in my head for the majority that i was writing this but it would’ve been ironic if that’s what i titled this imagine so anyways.

1777 words

rumors - jacob whitesides

As a grumble escaped my lips, I threw my arm across my body as to hug the mattress while flipping over to now lay on my stomach, being awakened by the shrill chirps coming from my phone. Slowly coming to the realization of where the sound was coming from, I lifted my arm to touch the cold metal of my phone and glanced it over with tired eyes.

The house was filled with silence, opposed to the noises of mother nature outside my window. The sun shining brightly through the pane was enough to persuade me out of bed as I knew I wouldn't be able to fall back asleep after that. I practically jumped out of bed, not of excitement but because it would be the only way to really wake me up given my tired state.

Slipping my phone into the waistband of my pajama shorts, I grimaced at the feeling of the cold surface touching my skin. I walked out of my room and into the small apartment kitchen to pour myself a glass of water to start the day, then pulling out my phone to read the piling over notifications. I unlocked my phone and opened messages as those notifications were most likely the most important.

emilia: hey babe! keep your chin up! don't believe what everyone is posting!

bianca: you know i support you through everything & it doesn't end here. we know men ain't shit but he is a keeper. don't believe what you're seeing love.

tommy: girl no. this is NOT happening. this is total bullshit. don’t even think for a second that any of this is true. that girl’s story is so fake. she is a SNAKE.

I scrunched my nose up in confusion, snickering at the random messages while sipping my water slowly. I scrolled past a few other threads of group chats with my siblings and sole messages from cousins and other family members I felt close to. They were sending me messages of their concerns and support, and I didn't quite get what was the reason as to why.

my love lucas: babygirllllllll. i am so exhausted but it's 5 in the morning and we have to do some radio interviews for the album. thank you for staying up until we got back to the bus, & for that, i know you won't be awake until the afternoon. BUT I LOVE YOU & THE BOYS ARE YELLING AT ME SO TEXT ME WHEN YOU WAKE UP!!! xoxxoxxo

While my boyfriend's text did put a smile on my face, it put the texts into perspective for me and I already figured out what was going on.

He went to a party last night with his band members and few of the tour crew at a bar, and I had stayed up until three in the morning despite the fact that I was working all day just to make sure he made it back safe. I trusted him, and you can't have a long-distance relationship without trust.

This was the second tour that Luke has been on while we were dating, and despite the things that you may find in fanfictions, going along with them on tour just wasn't exactly a thing... or my thing at the least. I had school to attend, a job to pay for myself, an apartment to upkeep, and our pets to take care of. Sometimes he would fly me out when he was going to be in California for a few nights and I would get the groupie experience for the week, but it's just too stressful to bother my friends to watch our dogs, so I opted out after the third time it happened.

Everyone knows that alongside a boy band is a mass of fans. Fangirls, to be exact, that protect their boys through every decision they make and while it is super devoting and heartwarming, some of them don't like the fact that the band members are in a relationship. So ever since footage of Luke and I together surfaced the internet, my life has not been the same since. I used to get a lot of hate which didn't bother me because I, contrary to Luke's knowledge, was a fangirl myself so I knew it was bound to happen eventually.

As time went on, the fans came to accept our relationship, all the while still having a few who disapprove but proving them wrong just meant sticking by his side every day, and I planned to do that for the rest of my life.

Every time that they go out partying, plenty of pictures are per say leaked to the public, and their fans find a way to figure out their plans, meeting them at these bars and clubs. There are pictures of Luke talking to his fans at these venues almost every time and they don't bother me because yet again, I trust him.

But there was something different going on this time, my friends and family have been by my side through every single tabloid but their sudden concern was something that was a bit abnormal to me.

I put my glass of water down on the marble top counter and paced to the living room, where I pulled my laptop atop my legs. Typing quickly into Google, I scrolled through the 5SOS Update fan pages on Tumblr and Twitter, finally coming across blurry photos of Luke and another girl.

"It's too low quality to see what's even happening.." I spoke to myself with a soft scoff, glancing at one of my dogs that was staring at me with her head cocked to the side, "I talk to myself all the time, I'm not going crazy." I told my dog before laughing and going back to the screen.

A majority of the replies was concern towards me, maybe they knew something that I didn't.  And that thought alone was concerning enough.

I trust Luke. I do. I trust him with my life.

That was until I stumbled across a reply from a girl who was saying that she was the one in the photo, and my heart skipped a few beats as I read her side of the story which was its own thread. I've seen fans concoct an entire story from a white lie and this seemed a bit dubious to me because he didn't text me much at the party, just before and after.

But I trust Luke with everything.

She wrote details about his secret tattoo that only I knew about and it's exact location, how his black polish clad nails traced up her arm as they spoke, and how his favorite alcoholic beverage was fresh on his breath.

This broke me.

I closed my laptop and put it aside, grabbing a bag of Doritos and trailing back to my bedroom. My head swirled with this new information, not wanting to believe it but it was so believable that it was physically stinging at my throat, but I refused to cry. I had cried myself to sleep when Luke was gone plenty of times, not because of the hate, but because I missed him, and I missed waking up next to him, and I missed the scent of him on my sheets.

I tried to tune out the negative thoughts in my head for an hour by blaring the television with whatever mildly funny show was on, it didn't work. I merely sighed and rose out of my bed again, walking to my bathroom to wash my face in hopes to shake this bad feeling off. As I dipped my head into the sink and flung cold water in my face to rinse off the soap, I heard keys shaking and my front door shifting as someone went to unlock it.

I froze in place and grabbed the shower curtain to cover my practically naked body. I'm home alone, of course, I'm only in a bralette and pajama shorts.  

I heard the door close behind the person who was now in my house and I was trailing through how many people I had given a key to. The footsteps grew louder as the person came closer. I saw the toe of their shoes in the doorway, then he stuck his head in to peek around the room, connecting his bloodshot eyes with mine.

"Luke.." I let out a sigh and released the shower curtain, walking up to the boy who towered over me. His hair was a mess, as usual, and he was in his normal punk rockish outfit.

"It's not true." He told me firmly, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed hard.

His eyes were red, he was crying, he was scared. His voice was wavering and his breath was shaky. "How did she know?" Was all I could manage to the broken-hearted boy in front of me.

"I had a lot to drink, and it's not an excuse but I didn't flirt with her or anything, she was just really close to me and kept touching me and I was trying to tell her off but she wasn't listening to me. She kept playing with my shirt color and touching my hair and that's how she found the tattoo. She kept mentioning your name and saying that you deserved better, someone you could see every day and someone who's normal, someone who takes you with them when they tour the world, someone who can answer your calls whe-" I cut him off with my lips, pressing a passionate kiss on him, slowly wrapping my arms around his neck to pull him lower to me as I stood on my tip toes.

His arms snaked around my waist and pulled me closer to him, deepening the kiss with every second that passed. When I pulled away from the kiss, I just stared into his eyes and nodded my head.

"I believe you. I know better than to believe them. I believe in you, and I believe in us." My voice was soft, but I was finally regaining my confidence. He chuckled softly, leaning down to hug my waist, lifting my body off the ground slightly as he whispered comforting words in my ear.

"Can I make us ice cream sundaes?" He whispered, a bright smile spreading on his face in which I giggled in reply and followed him to the kitchen with my hand in his.

As we made our way to the kitchen, one of the puppies ran up to us to greet Luke and I bent over to pick him up, cuddling him the dog as Luke prepared our dessert even though it was four in the afternoon.

[deehollowaywrites]

A serendipitous confluence of events occurred over the past several days when one of my favorite television shows returned with an unexpected side character, the AWP writing conference took over downtown Tampa, and three Kentucky Derby preps ran, including a much-contested San Felipe Stakes.

If these seem disjointed, know that horses are always--shall we say--the glue of my spiritual landscape.

A few friends who also watch the soapy, sneakily feminist Lifetime twist-buffet UnREAL admitted that they didn’t want to spoil my delight at the inclusion of a jockey character, however briefly poor, much-maligned Norman was onscreen (I assume my Twitter reaction delivered). The show, which is a dramatized take on the Bachelor empire of reality TV, attempted to lampshade the ingrained humor of a petite man trying to win the affections of a statuesque woman by having all the characters involved remark on this apparent absurdity. Producers Rachel and Quinn, Everlasting’s star Serena, and Norman all know he’s being played for giggles. A few heated conversations and a drunken bathroom tryst later, Serena cuts Norman from her lineup of possible future husbands. Knowing the show, he might pop up again, but I was sorry to see only one episode devoted to exploring this particular corner of heteronormative masculinity.

“So you’re a jockey jumper, then?” asks the protagonist of Jason Beem’s racetracker novel Southbound. The narrative elaborates, noting that most of the women one might reasonably class as race-rider groupies are “at least five foot seven,” and then moves onto the more pressing topic of whether the woman in question, beautiful and popular paddock host Maria, might shift her interest to the horseplayer protagonist. Despite the novel centering around various racetracks, jockeys rarely show up; there are 44 instances of the word in a 400-page novel. When jockeys do appear, they’re at a distance, on horseback or in the saddling paddock, and seen through a specific, borderline-hostile lens: that of the horseplayer who mistrusts riders. Jockeys are there to be yelled at by spectators, to “stiff” bettors, to do anything other than their jobs, and most saliently, they’re “notoriously horny little creatures” who can be trusted neither to ride their horses honestly nor remain faithful to their partners. Simultaneously sexualized by their in-group and unsexed by external observers, (male) riders are shrouded in layers of marginalization. How is it possible for a rider to be trite joke fodder in one context and erotically imposing in another? In both the universes of UnREAL and Southbound, jockeys fuck women but they’re not meeting the parents--the difference lies in admission, in context required for comprehension.

“I’m an elite athlete!” Norman protests, standing on his five-five dignity, and later, as it seems Serena might be opening up to him, starts a spiel about how his profession is misunderstood. But Serena is intent on hiding their hook-up once she’s sober again, the show’s narrative turning ambiguous as to whether her shame is rooted in poor decision-making, loss of control, or the fact that the guy giving it to her doggy-style was half her height. Meanwhile, Maria the paddock host is casual about dating or sleeping with riders; protagonist Ryan is the one with opinions about it, and so the reader’s attitudes are directed by this point of view. It’s normative but distasteful, where the cast and producers of Everlasting find the idea of a jockey romantic lead neither normative nor tasteful.

Readers of the nonfiction canon of Thoroughbred writing will see reference to a few superstars of the sport edging into popular consciousness as viable romantic heroes. These nearly always fit within a certain profile: white, blond, all-American. Steve Cauthen, Chris Antley, Gary Stevens. Norman of UnREAL is, of course, white. Observers might also note that the current lineup of rock-star jocks is heavily Latino. The sport relies on sexy imagery to sell itself as glamorous and attractive but limits this imagery to female spectators and participants, largely sidelining the appeal of male participants. Barbara Livingston’s infamous beefcake calendar notwithstanding, racing is shot for, marketed to, and discussed almost totally within the realm of the heteronormative male gaze. It’s impossible to untangle the overarching reputation of jockeys from their status within the sport, their concurrent location at its center and its fringes. Physically, according to UnREAL and the accepted romantic tropes it trades on, riders cannot fit the profile of a romantic lead (they might tick the box marked abs with a bullet but they’re--gasp!--short). According to Southbound, reams of five-foot-seven-and-above women are willing to set this deficit aside, and starfucking can’t always account for taste, since low-level Portland Meadows riders get their fair share too.

It’s almost like the height-gap trope beloved of romance enthusiasts only applies to tall men and short women. Who’da thunk?

My favorite panel out of the two days I attended AWP’s writing conference was “Shooters Gotta Shoot: Voice in Sports.” Never have I felt so understood by a bunch of strangers! Author and panelist Katherine Hill noted that football players talk a lot, an offhand comment that kicked the hamster wheel of my brain into high gear. Do jockeys talk? Not where horseplayers can hear them, usually. What they say is filtered through the lens of what the trainer wanted from the race, how the odds stacked up, whether their horse won or lost. Their voices are reduced and fragmented from intersecting angles:

English may be a second language;

The sport of racing itself is a niche one, replete with specific, exclusive vocabulary;

Secretiveness prevails on the backstretch, while the pop-media view of Thoroughbreds relies on tired images of corruption, rigging, and under-the-table deals;

The riders’ place within their sport is layered with uncertainty, from physical danger to the tentative handshake that confirms a mount or takes it away.

If certain trainers had their way, jocks wouldn’t talk at all and no one would request it of them. They would be emotional whipping boys for the losing horse, emotionless mannequins for the winner. Within the shelves of fiction, it’s also rare to hear a jockey speak, likeliest in the crime-novel aisle under Francis. On Harlequin’s website, a search for “football” returns 142 titles, while “baseball” gets 94 options and “hockey” 73. These are the Big Three of sports romance, with basketball, soccer, tennis, NASCAR/F1, and all Olympics-related sports making minor showings as well. Horse racing, when it shows up, falls largely into historical-romance settings--a scandalous duchess at Newmarket, a sheikh’s stable girl--or again in crime and suspense, with horse-theft plots and murdered barn managers. Trainers appear as romantic hero/ines almost to a fault; out of Harlequin’s 9 results for “jockey,” only 2 titles feature an actual Thoroughbred jockey, and both characters are female. While I’m always pleased to read (and write) about female jocks, I don’t find it cynical to assume that these books exist in part because short women are palatable and appealing romantic heroines, while short men are perceived as having Napoleon complexes or little-guy syndromes, and generally being 200 pounds of testosterone in a 115-pound body. So who gets the happily-ever-after? Viking-esque hockey hotshots, American-beefcake ball players, and any hero who falls within an appropriate, narrow conception of heterosexual masculinity. Whose voices are reflected and amplified within the larger field of sports fiction? Whose experiences are projected as normatively male and typically American? Whose bodies are portrayed and received as alluring and desirable, and whose are operating within a historic context of abuse, control, and ownership?

I ground up my nerve to ask a question in that “Voice in Sports” panel, which I rarely manage because I’m a shy doofus. After the panelists’ conversation shifted to the imperial "we” of sports fandom, I asked Hill and poet Jason Koo to discuss how the collective love of fans for their sport can turn toxic--how the boundary is transgressed, at what point possessiveness becomes ownership and how that in turn affects how players are permitted to speak. I was thinking, as I am always thinking, of the relationships between horseplayers, trainers, owners, and jockeys; of that word, owner, and racing’s intertwined history with slavery; of a sport built on the underpaid and sometimes unpaid labor of people of color; of the vitriol casually displayed on the apron, as two days later at Tampa Bay Downs I’d listen to a man next to me yell SHITHEAD! at Julien Leparoux in a post parade. I said that racing is my sport of choice, waited for someone to say that racing isn’t a sport. I said after the panel, thanking Hill and Koo for their remarks, that I write romance--that I have marginalized my own voice in my choice of sport to write about, and my choice of genre to frame that sport, and my choice of mostly queer characters to people that sport’s fictional world.

Nonetheless Javier Castellano has his better story, his voice triumphing over Mike Smith’s. Nonetheless I write on, delighted in the space in which I’ve found myself, continue to find myself.

It’s my job as a romance writer to depict race-rider leads and love interests as exciting, sexy, and appealing. It’s my pleasure as a racing fan to depict jockeys themselves as multifaceted, compelling, and human.

[lanadelreyfiles-blog]

Lana Del Rey: Read NME’s exclusive interview with the modern icon. Lana Del Rey’s new album ‘Lust For Life’ is her most ambitious yet. Mike Williams meets her in the city that inspires her the most, Los Angeles – a place, she says, that “enhances something in me that’s already cooking” – to talk about music, happiness and witchcraft. Interview by Mike Williams. Photography by Neil Krug. It will surprise no one to learn that Dr Dre has very good speakers in his studio. And when I say very good, I don’t mean very good in a pricey and popular headphones kind of way. I mean very good in a “holy s**t, I can hear every individual speck of space dust in this galactic wall of sound” kind of way. It’s how we would all listen to music if we were billionaire music industry moguls. Dre has given us permission to use his Santa Monica studio – across the road from the legendary Interscope Records – to hear ‘Lust For Life’, the latest Lana Del Rey album, for the first time. The inside of the studio is clad with expensive-looking wood. The lights are seductively dimmed. It looks both like Don Draper’s office and the cockpit of the Millennium Falcon. There’s a bubbling lava lamp next to a Bruce Lee lampshade on top of the main desk. The drinking water is perfectly cool. It’s totally LA. It’s a fitting place to listen to Del Rey’s coming-of-age record. Huge in scale in every sense – sonically, vocally, thematically – it’s the culmination of two years of relentless work. Writing, editing, discarding, rewriting, tinkering, erasing, rebuilding. As she’ll tell me the following day: “I kind of felt when I started I was going to be in this whole new zone when I was done, a whole new space. I’m really proud that there’s a shift in tone, a shift in perspective. There’s a bit of reflectiveness on what I’m seeing and it’s integrated with how I’m feeling. Normally I’m just, ‘Let me just put this all out there,’ and then I’m really surprised when people are like, ‘You’re f**king crazy.’”

Del Rey has been Interscope labelmates with Dre since October 2011, when she bought herself out of her contract with 5 Points Records, where she’d toyed with different identities and different sounds. Six months earlier, she’d become an overnight star when her aesthetic clicked and she released her debut single proper, ‘Video Games’. In the space of three acclaimed albums (2012’s ‘Born To Die’, 2014’s ‘Ultraviolence’ and 2015’s ‘Honeymoon’) she’s gone from lo-fi internet queen to fully formed Hollywood superstar. And now she doesn’t just have the songs – they’ve been there since the first day Lizzy Grant looked in the mirror and Lana Del Rey winked back – but also the production, the ambition, the pulling power and the brass balls to make ‘Lust For Life’. I hear nine tracks through the big speakers – ‘Love’, ‘Lust For Life’ (Ft. The Weeknd), ’13 Beaches’, ‘Cherry’, ‘White Mustang’, ‘Groupie Love’ (Ft. A$AP Rocky), ‘Coachella – Woodstock In My Mind’, ‘Beautiful People Beautiful Problems’ (Ft. Stevie Nicks) and ‘Tomorrow Never Came’ (Ft. Sean Ono Lennon) – before driving up to a rooftop bar in Hollywood to order drinks from wannabe film stars and looking up towards the hills to meditate on what I’ve just heard. Shoo-wops, doo-wops, wall of sound production; tender moments, angry moments; sex, cars, uncertainties; opulent LA life. If you squint, you can see the famous Hollywood sign in the distance. If you close your eyes you can see Del Rey looking out from her window right inside the middle of the H. The next day we’re in a different studio in a different part of town, this one belonging to Del Rey’s longtime collaborator and producer Rick Nowels. He greets us at the door with a massive grin and ushers us into the main room where the album was recorded. It’s untidy, in a warm and homely way. He wants to know what we think of the record. He’s excited to talk about it. Nowels is a 57-year-old music industry legend who’s worked with Madonna, Tupac, Stevie Nicks and more, but it’s obvious that there’s a particular space in his head and his heart reserved for Del Rey, who he repeatedly describes as “special” and “remarkable”. Del Rey arrives. She’s wearing a crocheted T-shirt and jeans. We sit down in a side room and both press record on our phones. There’s a book about Manson Family victim Sharon Tate on the table that neither of us notices until after the interview is over. I ask her if she’s as happy as she looks on the cover of the new album. “Yeah…” she says. “That was my goal, you know, to get to that place of feeling like in my daily life I had a lot of momentum. Like a moving-on-ness from wherever that other place was that ‘Honeymoon’ and ‘Ultraviolence’ came from. I loved those records, but I felt a little stuck in the same spot.” How did she move on? “I just felt a little more present. Writing a song like ‘13 Beaches’ – it’s a little bit of an abstract notion, but for me it took stopping at 13 beaches one hot day to find one that nobody was at. And I just thought, you know, the concept of needing to find 13 beaches might seem like a luxury problem for someone, but that’s OK, I’m going to go with that.” It’s a key song on the album. Her voice has never sounded bigger or more emotional. “I usually do things in a few takes,” she says, “but I took a lot of takes to do that. The mood that I needed to convey was better than what I was doing. I knew it was important that I came in straight as an arrow with that one. I always feel like I’m creating a new path when I’m doing a song.” Writing, editing, discarding, rewriting, tinkering, erasing, rebuilding. Not that Lana Del Rey has been completely reinvented on ‘Lust For Life’. The title track, the first of five collaborations on the album (no previous LDR album had ever featured a guest artist), may not come from the melancholic cool world of ‘Video Games’ or ‘Terrence Loves You’, but it’s just as nostalgic. Nostalgia can be sad and nostalgia can be happy, and at her best – and let me put it out there, I think this song could be her absolute best ever – Del Rey taps both at once. Does she agree? “I’m thinking about that. It goes in line with how I thought I was going to be in this more grown-up zone [writing this record], but actually I’m still somewhere right in the middle. When I think of that song I think of nighttime and this idea of, I don’t know, breaking into somewhere and carving up and kissing. That’s fun for me; like the place where I’m not 100 per cent in something really solid relationship-wise, where you’re still going out and meeting new people and all that stuff. And also, this Hollywood-centric environment is still an important thing that gives me life, being in town and the characters and the constant heatwave. It’s a little bit of a cliché – I totally get it; but I still feel like it enhances something in me that’s already cooking.” Hollywood and the sunshine can be quite an intoxicating cocktail really, can’t it? “It can. I’m naturally a careful person, so I like that the ambience… I wouldn’t go out and take a cocktail of pills or whatever, you know, but there’s something about the vibe of just being around that gives me a heightened feeling.” The biggest deal collaboration on the album is the duet with Fleetwood Mac legend Stevie Nicks. Del Rey says hearing her vocal takes made her re-evaluate her own tone. She was convinced Nicks would turn her down. She still speaks about it with a look of happy disbelief that it actually happened. But the most interesting duet is actually with the person who is, in their own personal right, the least famous and accomplished of everyone on the record, but by virtue of his surname, the most fascinating. “I’m a huge, huge John Lennon fan,” she says. “I didn’t know [his son] Sean. I got his number from my manager, who called his manager. I kind of was nervous about what he was going to say. I FaceTimed him – he was amazing. He was very excited.” The result is the sweetest song on the album, a tender folky ballad that gently taps through the fourth wall as they reference John and Yoko, then Del Rey sings, “Isn’t life crazy now that I’m singing with Sean”. There’s a story that goes with the song, where Del Rey calls up Lennon to tell him that she thought his part was perfect, and he says that he’s so happy because no one’s ever said that to him before. He’s John Lennon’s son, he’s lived his entire life in his father’s shadow, and Lana Del Rey has just given him his greatest ever compliment. There’s a tragedy in that, don’t you think? “Absolutely. It’s why I think it’s more than just a song for him – for both of us. He’s sensitive, you know. I assume that’s from his father and I think he would probably say that it’s been… some of his reviews have been difficult. I thought that was one of those moments on the record where it was a little bit of a ‘bigger than us’ moment. I told him, ‘I’m the one who’s honoured, I’m the lucky one; so I just want you to remember that, Sean, I’m singing with you.’” The interview goes off in lots of different directions. We talk about hanging in LA with Alex Turner and Miles Kane (“I randomly see Alex. I’ve been working with Miles”); about her deep friendship with Courtney Love (“I can call, and probably just ’cause she’s done so much crazy s**t, I can tell her something very weird and she’ll be like, ‘Been there, done that’”); her love of Kurt Cobain (“top influence other than Bob Dylan”); people watching (“I’m a weird observer”); detective novelist Raymond Chandler (“I’m a big fan, I love The Big Sleep”); and Californian independence (“I’m a proponent of keeping the country together, but it’s so its own zone it may as well be a different country.”) We end by talking about magic and the power of words. Firstly, Donald Trump. He’s still the president, which means that the hex Del Rey asked her Twitter followers to cast on February 24 hasn’t worked (yet). So did she get involved and do it herself? “Yeah, I did it. Why not? Look, I do a lot of s**t.” Do you cast other spells at home? “I’m in line with Yoko and John and the belief that there’s a power to the vibration of a thought. Your thoughts are very powerful things and they become words, and words become actions, and actions lead to physical changes.” The quirky video trailer that you did for the album (a magical Lana looking down on LA from her home in the Hollywood H, ruminating on the world and the space it takes to make a record) – it’s more than a trailer; it’s a personal manifesto, isn’t it? “There is a message. I really do believe that words are one of the last forms of magic and I’m a bit of a mystic at heart. And I’ve seen how I feel about changing those people’s lives and I’ve been on the other side of that as well – on the other side of well-wishes and on the other side of malintent. And I’ve realised how strong you have to be to be; bigger than all of it, even bigger than your own vibrations. “I like that trailer because I talk about my contribution, which is something you start to think about. I’ve got good intentions. It’s not always going to come out right – it hasn’t come out right a lot of the time – but at the core my intentions have always been so good. With the music or when I get into a relationship, it’s always just because I really want to. That’s what’s at the root of this really cute, witchy B-movie.” You make a point in the trailer of saying “in these dark times”. Is there more pressure to contribute something positive right now? “I didn’t like hearing that come out of my mouth. I have a song, ‘When The World Was At War We Kept Dancing’, and I went back and forth so many times about putting it on the record because I didn’t feel comfortable with what I was saying. I don’t like hearing myself say, ‘In error it’s the end of America’, ’cause it’s a troubling sentiment. I didn’t like saying, ‘In these dark times’ either…” We both stop recording but keep talking about the state of the world we live in. I tell her that I can see more and more artists starting to come to terms with the fact that they need to be more outspoken and opinionated. She agrees and says people need to be bold because there are consequences. For the next hour, she makes silly videos on my phone, eats a messy sandwich and helps me choose photos to send to the NME art desk. She couldn’t be less like the idea of Lana Del Rey that most people subscribe to. There’s a confidence in her that perhaps she didn’t have before, a confidence that comes, maybe, from knowing that she’s about to release her most complete album, but knowing too that there are tweaks she could have made, things she should have done differently, things she’ll make right on the next record, ideas she’ll try when she’s next in the studio with Rick. Writing, editing, discarding, rewriting, tinkering, erasing, rebuilding.

[ecotone99]

[OT] Old school party

playlist

Where does this story belong? Instagram (not on that). Twitter (seems too long, and I don't tweet). Blogger (who blogs these days?). Snapchat? (please, i'm not 13). Whatsapp (I don't even know what that is). Facebook? (no good pictures and too long)... a story i wrote 25 years ago, and updated in 2007. Does this short story stand the test of time? I'll let you decide. But I did snap the playlist that was saved from the Saturday morning cleanup... and somehow I saved it for the last 30 years in my nostalgia bin. good times. "I wish there was a way to know you're in the 'good old days' before you've actually left them" - Andy Bernard. Excuse any typos. I don't feel like correcting any of them at this late moment.

308 stanton last updated: 20-jul-07

so it was decided. we would indeed throw a party at our house. we’d kicked the idea around for months prior, but nobody championed the idea, so it never came together. this time, we still didn’t have a champion for the effort, but we all kind of came to a zen-like calmness about the decision to go thru w/ it. while waiting in some incredibly long beer lines (really, more like beer circles, with the keg at the center of the concentric circles of folks waving their plastic beer cups) at the Green House, only 5 short blocks away from our house, we finally told each other enough times that we were sick of waiting in other people’s houses, while the beer-gods up front w/ the taps decide who drinks right away (young, good looking women who are friendly, and whoever lives there), and who waits (all males who aren’t actually living at the house or from the house guys’ hometowns).

there were a few party houses that had developed nicknames and that didn’t need directions or street names to go along w/ them. kind of like the ‘cher’, ‘prince’ and ‘madonna’s of the iowa state university campustown houses. we had the ‘gamma Gs’ (a fake frat / party house on lincoln ave). we had the green house (a mint green party house on knapp). we had the ‘pink house’. and we had ‘230 campus’ (a collection of apartments w/ loose keg policies, and plenty of opportunities for crashing parties). we had others, too, but they already have slipped away from my mind forever. the real question was: could we compete w/ the old established houses and get anyone to come to this new location? (‘old, established’ is relative, of course. in real years, their reputations were about 3 years old. but in ‘college time’, tho, it was like 2 generations, like 40-college-years. an eternity. legendary) what if we threw a party and nobody came? we had egos to protect. and our pocketbooks (stupid name... let’s just call em wallets) and we had so many unknowns that could ruin the event (a blizzard, a potentially mega-huge competing party, possible ‘barn dances’ the same night [but that’s another whole story there, the infamous isu ‘barn dances’. pay your $5, get on an old yellow school bus, get driven 15 miles out to the boonies to some guys barn, drink your guts in, puke your guts out, make the rounds and hit on all the women (who make up a HUGE 15% of the party, jump on a bus that leaves every 15 minutes back to campus, stagger home… yack in the bushes a few times if need be. well, i guess that doesn’t require a whole new story, just thick brackets] ).

so, we picked a friday 2 weeks out. it was the dead of winter, early on in the new semester, w/ only a cyclone basketball game as the only known conflict. 308 stanton avenue, ames, ia, 50012 had keggers before, but outside ones, in the summer, where the house can be locked down. this would need to be an entirely inside party (feb in iowa). and this would be a ‘blow-out’ party. or at least we planned for that. not just one (or maybe 2) kegs and an invite list of close friends and neighbors (no lockdown needed. no duct taping cupboards, couches in front of bedroom doors, turnaround the tv, hide the remotes and CDs, tape the fridge shut, etc. this would be a take no prisoners (unless they pony up the $3) kind. totally open to whoever moseyed by. we had connections to a ‘band’ (i knew a band member from honors program, who lived in the ‘pink house’ (cory S). roach (my roommate), knew another band member from same band from his hometown. yup, need quotes around that ‘band’ word. 4 guys who all had instruments. and different instruments! that’s all you need to be called a band. erik, corey, zit, and ?. they agreed to play for our party. that was a good thing. i either forget their band name, or they didn’t have one (yet). nirvana or some such. i’m sure they didn’t amount to anything. but who knows? this was unique enough that strangers would be tempted to go to a house party w/ an actual live band playing. at least we hoped. we reached a point of no return when we reserved the kegs on the monday before. how many to buy? and how many to put on reserve? we settled on getting 3 up front, and 3 on reserve. had to put down some ‘serious’ money for them, and for the tap deposit, and the keg deposit. we had to scrape the money together, tapping out atm cards and bringing back cans/bottles for nickel apiece, etc (pry about $150 which of course now doesn’t seem as much as back then, when we were all about 2-4 years into paying out w/out ever receiving anything back yet).

so, we all worked our contacts all week. we stopped by our old dorm floors to tell everyone to come, and have them announce it at their weekly floor meetings. we even (or at least i did, can’t speak for my roommates) put up signs in the bathrooms and hallway and den on the old floor, to make sure the message got out. told all my classmates in every class (even the ones who normally don’t party hop, which was most of them. chemical engineers just don’t party. even at college. at least most of em). on the engineers side of campus (the ugly, male-dominated side. all the good looking co-eds in education stayed on the opposite side of campus, safely away from us), after 3 years, its amazing how many people you recognize by just walking around between buildings, even at a huge school of 25,000. we were like jehovas witnesses or magazine sellers, we would tell everybody we knew (either by their names, or maybe just their faces) about friday’s party. by the end of the week (thursday), most people i told about the party would say, “i know, i know, i heard about it like 20 times now”. that was a good sign. but i took that to mean that my roommates and me had just told them about it 5 times each.

we over prepared for it, that’s for sure. i blew off friday afternoon classes (but i made it to my 8:00 AM p-chem) we cleaned the house up. big time. in the old forgotten corners, we found and cleaned out magazines and unopened mail that were 10 years old. we put away everything valuable or breakable. we duct taped our kitchen cabinets shut, which included our very valuable raman noodles and assorted tupperware for storing leftover pizza, as well as glass-glasses. we duct-taped the fridge. we decided to barricade the bedroom doors w/ couches. (our house had one big, open room, full of old couches, and bedrooms shooting off of it, so it wasn’t difficult to do it. of course, we kept finding reasons to need to go into the bedrooms, so we constantly kept ‘sealing’ and ‘unsealing’ all the bedroom doors all afternoon. we totally cleaned out the bathroom of everything but one lil roll of toilet paper. moved all CDs, tvs, remotes, anything we could move, we moved, to bedrooms. we picked up the 3 kegs, putting 2 in the basement, and tapped one for upstairs. that was just for convenience and until folks (hopefully) started showing up. then we’d move that to the basement, too. the basement was the darkest, stinkiest, mustiest, mildewy-est, centipede over-ran hole in the ground (literally) i’ve ever seen. perfect for the dispensing of beer. we actually had someone voluntarily live down there. doug, who was only charged $50/month (we all paid $112) for some unknown reason, agreed to those living conditions. he laid down industrial strength plastic over the cracked, crumbling, dirty cement / cement dirt, put in some clothes lines for hanging all the clothes he owned, and put a mattress directly on the floor. he would always be bringing up to show us the biggest, most disgusting bugs/millipedes/centipedes/roaches that he found in his sheets. and he always smelled ‘musty’ when he first put on a new shirt and came up from down the dungeon. but the smell eventually wore off, or at least we got used to it. how HE got used to it is beyond me.

by 4:00, we were ‘ready’. the house looked so different.. so… clean. it put us in a goofy mood. a nervous mood. we had put the tv away, so the only thing we could do is listen to the stereo, play some darts, and wait. and drink. and wait. we were sitting on 3 full, cold kegs, slowly warming up. but we all just kinda sipped. it was gonna be a long night. even roach sipped. didn’t think that was possible for him to do. gotta pace ourselves. the band showed up, w/ their stuff. that was cool. it was one of their first ‘official’ gigs. they were playing for free, which was worked out beforehand. they were just glad to get top-(and only)-billing. and they told all of THEIR friends and ‘groupies’ to come, too, i assumed, or at least hoped. they found the most sturdy part of our floor to set up (which was a challenge. the floor was mushy, uneven, and spongy to the step almost everywhere. their amps and speakers were damn heavy, and they didn’t care about damaging our floor, they just didn’t want their expensive (rented?) things getting hurt as they fell thru the floor and landing on doug’s bed, or at least tipping over.

earlier in the week, we had recruited what we called (and in our defense, what everyone else in our world at ISU called), the ‘beer wench’. pry the most important person at the party. the pivot person. the go-to woman. except for any cops that may show up. the beer wench doled out the glasses, acted as a ‘bouncer’ to keep out high-school lookin kids, made sure nobody brought in their own glasses, but most importantly, collected the money. 3 for guys, 2 bucks for women. NO EXCEPTIONS. we knew if we had tried to collect the money ourselves, a few things would happen. we’d lose interest, we wouldn’t get beer in a timely manner ourselves, we’d get sweet-talked by our girl – friends (not just girlfriends, but … oh, i’m sure you understand) to not have to pay, and we wouldn’t be able to ‘mingle’. i can’t believe i forgot her name already… it’s only been 10 short years. cherry? lampy? i’ll come back to the name.. i’m sure i’ll wake up tonite at 3:00 AM shouting “April! April!” good thing the wife is in tampa. the B.W. was tough as nails, actually enjoyed being a *itch. and loved being in charge. getting her to help was the key, in hindsight, to a good party.

i remember the 5 of us (burk, woody, roach, doug, and me (aka homie – a name carried over from the dorm floor days of tone loc, when everybody was “me and my homies”) {scrappy and rebar minus doug would be the next generation to live there w/ us, but weren’t quite yet} standing in our empty house, nervously asking each other if we thought anyone will show up. we had no idea. oh, sure, we hoped, and we estimated, but what if only 17 folks showed up. hope they’re thirsty. and rich. we were a jangle of nerves, even tho we all tried hiding it.

luckily, at around 6, some folks started trickling in. some old dorm friends, duke and shu, came waaaay too early. i was the one who named duke, duke, back in the dorm days, cuz his name was john wayne H. that name stuck; John Wayne, The Duke. nobody knew him as john, and even as i write this, john sounds goofy… he was duke. wonder if that name stuck to him after college? pry not. folks like fuzzy from the roommates’ hometowns, and girlfriends, and some more stragglers started arriving, who we told to come early to drink before it got too crowded. and then, at about 7:30, the floodgates opened! this wasn’t new york city, where you went out at a stylish 11:00. here, you ate, then put on and up your party hair (for the flock of seagulls-type women), got together and started the night ASAP. in fact, you pry started right after classes on friday (F.A.C. Friday After Class drink specials. did any other campus have FAC bar parties?) like dime-a-tap-beer specials, the kind the city cops were always complaining about.

a crush of people started showing up, flowing in like a river. we moved the 3rd keg to the basement. the money started flowing in, and the beer flowing out. the volume picked up. we had achieved CPM. (critical party mass). the only thing that could extinguish CPM was running out of beer, or a visit from one of ames’ finest. plenty of beer was available, and the police stayed away all night. it was a sweet feeling being the giver of one of these, finally. barging to the front of the beer line (circle), and commandeering the tap. being able to fill up the young, nubile women’s glasses ahead of the obnoxious guys who i didn’t know. it was taken for granted that one must yield the power of the tapper to the owner of the house or his designated delegate upon request. all that power in one guys thumb. it was intoxicating. (or maybe it was just the beer. ok, it was definitely just the beer). the Beast. Milwaukee’s Best. cheapest stuff available. the basement, for the first time ever, actually was getting hot in the dead of winter. usually, our house stayed at about 65 degrees during day, and pry 50 or 55 at night (some mornings, and i don’t think i’m remembering this wrong, i could actually see my breath <insert bad breath jokes here>) doug had barricaded his ‘room’ off w/ his mattress and rope. it was still holding.

the band wanted to start warming up. the public enemy on the stereo was killed. it wasn’t like the opening of a U2 concert, let me tell ya. it just kind of ramped up… slowly.. so slowly.. guitarist tuning and playing some licks that were maybe recognizable. mic checks. random drumming. then, no friendly banter from the lead singer erik, welcoming us, or saying it was great to be at 308 stanton, ames. just the start of their first song of their first set of their first gig ever. and maybe it was just the beer (ok, most likely), but they sounded okay. i recognized their songs. they had the place rockin. people were actually dancing to them, and everyone was facing them. it was cool. i’m sure the band was into it, jammed into our corner, the throng pressing in on them.

during their first break, roach convinced me to help him w/ a ‘beer-ee-oaky’ song. put loud public enemy back on the stereo, and we would help chuck D belt out the verses using the band’s sound system. trust me, it sounds better when i type it than it sounded. i think we were unceremoniously escorted away from the mics by erik, to much applause.

i took a break to go across the street to 307 stanton. (aside: while co-op-ing (interning) at quantum chemical in lil old clinton/camanche, iowa, i looked for some off-campus housing for my return to State, i hooked up w/ roach, et. al who had found the house available at 308 stanton ave. unbeknownst to me, the future wife to be, B, had also been house hunting w/ some of her grrrrls. when she told me she found a house at 307 stanton, i thought she was pulling my leg (or pulling something). but nope. either she did some great detective work to find out where i was gonna live, and made sure she was close enough to be able to harass me, or it was serendipity. of the 25,000 student living quarters in ames, she picked the one 100 ft away. anyway, that led to “us” directly. 307 vs. 308. goofy how life works out. had she picked 230 campus ave who knows? i may be w/ one of becky’s roommates (hopefully not the goth i hate men patchouli wearin’ black dressin’ greasy hair unwashin’ coppin’ attitude liberal, pasty, pierced scary one w/ the 2 cats). anyway, becky (nee rebecca) was planning on being fashionably late to our party, and she was putting the finishing touches on her ‘party hair’ / peacock / bend over, hair spray your bangs, stand up. repeat, along w/ her friends/roommates maria and kelly. while at her house, at the upstairs windows, it was the perfect vantage point to take it all in over at 308. folks streaming up the sidewalks in waves, nay, armadas, from all directions, some carrying glasses (hope the BW confiscated em) and every time our front door opened, a huge plume of steam/smoke just poured out into the february night. really billowed out, like there was a fire inside. most of it was just hot, sweaty, humid air hitting the feb. cold, cuz there wasn’t many smokers there. it was somethin. wasn’t many cars out front, just a smattering (everyone lived walking distance to everything. one block off main campus street, in between everything, was 308). i loved that scene. was anxious to get back in the middle of it.

the peacock finally ready. getting back to the party, fighting our way thru the folks milling or waiting or getting cooled off or yacking or relieving or whatever, katie (kate! katie! the bw’s name! too lazy to correct it up there in the story, tho) was at the door, doing the her job better than anyone in the business. in fact, when i came back in, she was in distress. she looked relieved to see me. she immediately moved a couch and pulled me into the barricaded room (witte’s room) right by the door. i wondered why. here’s why: she then started pulling money out from every pocket and fold and sock and who knows where else. it was unbelievable. mostly crumpled ones, but a few fives and tens. damn! and she said that roach and burk had already cleaned her out a few times already. wow, a bed full of money... several inches high. i rolled it all up like the big shots do in the casino movies. ended up as a thick can-sized wad. and stashed it in witte’s backpack. never to be seen again. (nah, we all pooled all the money together in the ‘morning after’). thanked kate for her services, but told her it was only 10:00 and people still want glasses. went to the basement to freshen up the glass. some folks were relieving themselves in the way back corner. i started yelling at them, until i realized doug was back there, too, and it’s his room, so who was i to stop em? “hey! doug SLEEPS there! oh, hi, doug... nevermind. carry on”

near the beer, along w/ the countless plastic cups being held up, this one guy was actually holding up a sandwich tupperware, jockeying for position towards the tap. he had been drinking out of THAT. after working my way over to him, and trying to make him feel as stupid as he looked, i kindly suggested that he go buy a cup from kate and put back our favorite tuna sandwich tupperware. he was trying to tell me that that’s what they gave him at the door. i don’t think so. however, everybody’s attention quickly turned to the old 2 X 8 wood planks without railings that made up our stairs. roach was bounding down them, backwards, loudly, w/ a full keg tumbling right behind him. he was trying to hoist it down gently, but lost his footing. the keg landed on his left leg at the bottom of the steps, snapping his bone right at the upper ankle. ouch. first, he thought he’d drink thru the pain, and sat upstairs having folks beer him, sitting like a mafia don w/ his captains. finally, the wuss went to the hospital, got it set and casted, and actually made it back before the party was over. now THAT’s dedication. true anecdote.... actually, everything here is true... at least through the beer fogs of time. was too passé to have anyone sign the cast, but just put his casted leg up on a table, and folks kept his glass full.

upstairs, the band was working through their set list for the second (third?) time, but nobody cared. the game was to try to figure out the song first. sometimes, it took a few seconds (or minutes). burk then brought out his snake, Monty, the python. a big ball python about 7 feet long. coiled it around his neck, chomping on a big stogy ala schwartenagger. big guy was burke. played football as a freshman, i think. gave it up (or it gave him up) chicks dug the snake. and he passed it around to em. the snake loved squeezing necks. it was a huge, heavy thing, but always very sedate and nice. the heat inside the house was intense. crammed shoulder to shoulder absolutely everywhere. must’ve been 300 folks there. more kegs needed. someone already had picked up the 3 reserves, but we needed more. i enlisted duke and shu, along w/ becky (‘rebecca’ wouldn’t be born for another 5 yrs). <sermon time. yes, i realized i shouldn’t’ve been driving, but of the bunch, i was in the best condition. sorry as i was>. also, luckily, it wasn’t too far away. about a mile on slow city roads, w/ stop signs or lights every block. so, w/ 2 kegs in the trunk, and a few more in back seat, and w/ them sitting on em, and the back end almost riding on the tires, it was a precarious voyage back. had to break off some of the benjamins (oh, wait... i mean jeffersons and lincolns in cold cash, homie!) but we received a hero’s welcome back at 308. well, ‘we’ didn’t, i guess, but the beer did. hundreds of dry coeds and guys, having only drunk 1.50 worth, or 0.0 worth, or 5.0 worth, but still! a dry house! oh, the horrors. we had borrowed a second tap from someone earlier in the night, so the beer was disappearing quick. almost too quick.

a gaggle of chemE’s even showed up, and were off in a corner, in a tight group, looking shell-shocked, sipping their beers. maybe this shouldn’t have been the first party to invite them to, because everything was to the extreme. not for the timid. we (roommates/me) worked the crowd w/ pitchers of beer, whenever we got the chance or felt altruistic. i always started in that chemE corner w/ a pitcher and worked out from there, so they wouldn’t have to fight their way downstairs into the most aggressive beer circle i’d ever seen. tempers usually didn’t flare up, tho, even tho folks got spilled on, pushed, crushed, stepped on, because it was just par for the course. expected. and most everyone knew everyone else, or at least knew somebody who knew somebody else. no beer-rage here.

finally, the band wrapped things up (no encores, thankfully). they did an impressive job, and certainly didn’t embarrass themselves or our fine house’s reputation. back to the stereo, back to public enemy and other old school hiphop (and for roach: milli vanilli, who still liked that damnable trashy cd even after they were discredited as pop-induced lip synchers). and his milli vanilli posters and milli vanilli do-rags and ripped t-shirts and autographed 8x10 glossies? oh, c’mon! well, not really. he was more into new kids on the block. some young lil freshman-like girls thought nothing could be better than some garth brooks and some ac/dc, and that new rap *hit had to go. they kept trying to break into roach’s room to change the music. bad idea. they were escorted out. really annoying. “no! we want garth! not this rap sh**!”

after cleaning out katie (the BW) one more time, i made an executive decision. (actually, i think i ran it by whoever roommates i could find, just to make sure they agreed) i gave the band some playing money. 20 bucks apiece. of course, they weren’t insulted by the paltry sum. rather, they were thrilled at the unexpected windfall, which looked bigger than it actually was, via the delivery method of handing them crumpled, uneven, mismatched fists of cash. this was their first paying gig. they stuck around to see if any ‘groupies’ appeared, but nope, just the same friends they always party with. the band was always high on my pitcher refill list, too, right behind the circle of cowering chemEs.

people started filing out after 11-12ish. not a mad rush, but the direction was certainly out, not in. some pizzas should have been ordered w/ part of the windfall, but nobody got around to it. katie gave up the glasses job. we insisted that she take 20, or 40, or whatever a handful of wet, badly folded, mismatched bills was worth, because w/out her diligence, we would have not cleared half of what we did.

i didn’t have the energy or incentive to un-barricade my room, and chose instead the quiet, warm, dry, smoke-free puke-free, noise-free environs of 307 to crash for the night. i guess the fact that becky-the-big-party-haired-woman was there may have had something to do w/ that decision, too, tho, in retrospect, but actually not too much. even if sister ezekiel (a short, warted, mean nun in full nun-wearables) from my from 2nd grade teacher/nun had been in 307 instead of becky, i STILL would have went there.

the next morning was a bit surreal. walking back over to 308 mid-morning, still in a groggy/drunk mode, i couldn’t help but notice a few things. someone had written a big “NO BEER” with lipstick, on our house siding, right by the front door. kind of like a scarlet letter, scaring away would-be late partiers who heard about a great party too late. or maybe someone from inside kept getting woken up by folks wanting to ‘party’, and thought that sign would keep them from knocking. the front and side yard (and i’ll try not to be too graphic here) was a mixture of melted snow, and plenty of once-ran-through beer remains, as well as ample evidence of mass-indigestion. the bottoms of our house and nearby cars had all the salt and mud washed off them, many times over, in nice little ‘golden arches’. mcdonalds would be proud.

that was just a inkling of what the inside of the house had in store. in fact, it was worse than outside. the green matted shag carpet was barely visible under the broken plastic cups, cigarette and cigar butts, ripped up posters, overturned couches and cushions, some random bottles folks had brought in to tie (tide?) them over until the keg glasses could be filled, some wet rugs and pillows, muddied papers / newspapers and whatever else we didn’t lock up. the rug (that was visible) was soaked w/ melted snow, mud and spilled beer. witte was sleeping on a chair – apparently, he didn’t feel up to breaking thru his bedroom-barricade, either. as he was still waking up, tho, he was worried, and was mumbling about monty. the last thing he knew or remembered from last night, he had the snake, monty. and now, he no longer had the snake, and the snake wasn’t in its cage, and nobody has seen it after witte. so, ever so gently, we started digging for Monty. the snake needed to be found. somewhere. thankfully, he finally turned up in a couch, underneath the cushions, and no worse for wear (at least that we could see). we unwound him from the “C” wire cushion bottoms and returned him to his safe, warm glass cage. he needed to see a snake-therapist for months after this episode.

someone had tried running through a wall by the front door. they made it about half way through. if only i had the tools and know-how of sheetrocking then that i have now, i coulda done magic on that wall. however, a big, free poster for Bud (the bud girls.. remember them, in their ‘bud’ bathing suits written across 3 buxom babes and their underlying bud towel?) hid the hole just at good, and was a lot quicker, too. also, we had no running water. also, someone smashed the natural gas meters in the basement (why, we still wonder). also, the toilet was clogged and broken. the sink was clogged. the hot water heater wouldn’t re-light (someone must have saw it as a convenient ‘watering hole’ and of course every self-respecting guy needs to have a target in mind or have a watering post to help the flow). the main table we used for whatever (newspapers, phone messages, backpacks, groceries) was missing a leg.

but, oh, well, on the positive note, the party was a smashing success. literally. everyone slowly got up, and started putting the house back together. no radio. no tv. no stereo. no loud noises, period. the basement beer mud was thick, and smelly? damn! we all collected the money’s we had squirreled away (pockets, backpacks, hiding spots) and put it into a big pile. a very impressive pile. a foot tall, few feet across. wow. settled up the costs for the extra kegs, and tried to recount how much was given away, and to whom. i forget how much we each cleared, but it was a helleva lot more than we ever thought it would be. about 50 future keggor fees, i think. but we didn’t do it for the money. we did it just for the sake of doing it. with much of the proceeds, we set up a very healthy toilet paper / paper towel endowment fund for the house.. and we were the foundation chairs for this endowment. usually, we just traded in cans/bottles at a nickel a pop when we were way past desperate in the toilet paper arena. but now, we were now rich w/ paper! a whole semesters worth of no-worry bathroom visits.

roach’s leg healed no problem. (altho his car antennae got bent off, too, pry by someone steadying themselves against his car. shoulda got a portapotty out front). the plumber was called. gas company was called. the old pipes were used so much that rust had been shaken free and clogged it all up (or maybe all that bass from the band loosened it. the gas company guy (a young guy not too far out of college himself, or at least college-aged) took pity on us and installed all new natural gas meters for free. becky actually helped clean up, too. i remember that because she pulled the band’s song list out from the garbage and told me i should keep it. it was taped to the floor by the band so they would know the order of the songs, and could segue easier. it was written using a red marks-a-lot smeary, wet, torn, burned, but still barely readable. in fact, i think i’ll dig thru old college notes and memorabilia box under the ol’ steps and try to find that bad boy. too bad that band didn’t make it to the big time, i could auction off that piece of paper on e-bay for a fortune.

i had an interview w/ koch in wichita for that next monday, and had to leave sunday morning for the airport. i still wasn’t quite ‘regular’ and fully over the carnage from friday, but apparently i did okay anyway. i got the koch internship which led me to a full time koch job which then led me to 3m. so i credit that party a decade ago w/ putting me on the road to professional success. i highly recommend a similar career path for every collegiate. but just don’t agree to sleep in any basements, no matter how reasonable the rent. the top-dwellers paid $112 each. doug paid $50 in the basement cave. 4 bedroom + basement. 3 blocks from campus, 1 block from campus-town. house completely trashed when moved in. no security deposit needed. no lease terms. perfect house. we were last ones to live there. it was condemned and tore down the summer after we graduated. rebuilt an apartment complex on our old home. progress? i think not.

we had other parties after that first big blowout, but none were as big, crazy, fun, crowded, or as memorable as that first one was. we realized smaller parties w/ mostly people we all knew had lots fewer headaches than the free-for-all trash-the-house kind. Monty the python finally succumbed to the cold and unfriendly climate of a badly insulated house in the middle of iowa winters, and even though he had a heating lamp and rock, he didn’t survive the year. found him dead and cold and coiled up one morning. we had a snake wake in his honor, tho, where he would come out of his permanent storage location of our freezer, all coiled up, frozen stiff, right between the totino party pizzas, and grace the party goers w/ his presence. that was another good party. the snake-wake party. but all the rest run together. monty slowly degraded in the freezer due to all the handling and shuffling, parts of his skin shedding and peeling off into the freezer. and finally burk had to find a more permanent home for him besides intermingled in the pile of pizzas. (4 totino party pizzas for $3 at value-save-more-hy-vee grocery or whatever it was called)

prologue: about a year after graduating, i stopped by the old house on stanton ave, to see if i knew anybody anymore, and to see what they had done to our place (palace!). everybody was gone, a ‘condemned’ notice on the front door. weeds growing over all the sidewalks and driveway. that made me feel bad. what a waste of a perfectly good party house. they tore it down shortly after, and put up a new building in its place. so it goes. progress. moral of this story? is none. lessons learned? are none. when you’re living thru the middle of a crazy time like college, you take a lot of it for granted, and don’t even realize that it’s out of the ordinary to invite 300 total strangers into your house, have 6 hours worth of fun w/ them, and then they leave, never to see you again. and then the next week, you do the same exact thing at someone else’s house/apartment w/out thinking anything of it. what a time. gone by. gone forever. condemned to the dustbin of memories.

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[mysticdragon3md3]

MD3 watches Carole & Tuesday season 1 part 1

9:34 PM 9/1/2019 Carole and Tuesday ep1

Watch Shinichiro Watanabe and Studio Bones go fully into revolving a series around music.  

I was going to say something about how this entire exposition dump is too blunt, that everything is falling into place too easily. But not only is it the natural thing for these 2 characters to do when they're introducting themselves to each other, but the tone of these scenes are really nice.  Just the thing for someone who's been watching almost exclusively iyashikei for a while now.  

I'm surprised they're using actual terms like "Google" and "INstagram".  I wonder if there's a real Instagram account named "carole_and_tuesday".  Well, if Netflix didn't, the fanbase will have.  

I like that the episode begins with narration explaining that Carole and Tuesday will become famous musicians.  Because if the tension of the episode/series is based on already knowing their ending of their story, then that means, it won't hurt me to have already seen some spoiler scenes from later in the series.  ^-^  

That ending theme really sounds like a Cyndi Lauper or at least a 1980's song, with all that synthesizer.  Tuesday was talking about her earlier in the episode.  Do I have to go research Lauper to understand future references?  

9:59 PM 9/1/2019

Carole & Tuesday ep2.

Is there a setting on Netflix that automatically lets me always see the ending and opening credits?  I just don't feel complete when those opening songs and ending themes get skipped.  And often, I can't scramble for the remote in time to ensure I get to watch the credits.  I'm pretty sure there's science behind the benefits of staying for credits and easing back into the next episode with an opening song.  I mean, that whole Interest Curve theory works pretty well for overall plots, scenes, videogame rising tension, Star Wars, Haikyuu, etc.  I need that cool-down after a story for an optimal experience.  That's why I always stayed in movie theaters during credits, even before the MCU.  

I forgot to note during ep1, but I like the future-ized version of vocal synthesizers liek Hatsune Miku, and there's this whole company that has had exclusively virtual/artifical singers for its entire successful history so far.  Did that Tao guy mention the name of his company?  

I also liked that Angela's mom is going to represent that Stage Mom archetype and how that's destructive and contributes to the cliche of "child actors" ending up badly.  If we're going to have a series about the entertainment business, it's good to at least mention that.  

Oh yeah...Did Carole's uni-wheel skateboard exist before the real life version that's been advertised on YouTube lately?  

Something tells me Tao's business is going to be a better example of the highly manufactured music process, than Black Mirror's "Rachel, Jack, and Ashley Too".   These chats that Carole and Tuesday have, while her owl gets sleepy, are realy soothing.  It's reminds me of iyashikei genre's tone.  And Carole's seiyuu has a soothing voice that's also more interesting that just the typical bishoujo voice.  

So the title is based on Bruce Springsteen's song.  

Carole wants to try a grand piano, and I was thinking of those pianos inside shopping malls.  But would malls even still exist in the future?  LOL  And why is there a piano in a place called "Mars Immigration Memorial Hall"?  Sounds like a federal administrative building.  ...Except for the "Memorial" part.  Yeah, what would a building like that be for?  Maybe a piano will make sense there when I see it.  

DJ Ertegun is getting a pretty big introduction.  Ok, I'm curious.  Did he produce that talent show I've seen spoiler clips of?  

I feel kind of bad for Carole's security guard friend, but I like that one of the people in charge of the venue is cool with them just using the piano.  LOL  

Did I mention yet that I really like the music in this series?  The songs I've seen in spoiler clips, anyway.  

LOL  omg Roddy recorded them running from the security guard too.  LOL  ^o^!

omg and he totally uploaded it.  LOL

I'd be funny if anyone, not just people with more computer experience, but I mean idiots like me, could so easily use facial recognition software, find someone's Instagram, and just use the geotagging to find anyone.  

I know it's cliche for the has-been agent/manager/scout to find a new talent and it gets him out of his self-destructive patterns, but it's still nice.  I'm glad to see Gus not drinking his liver to death and picking fights.  

I really should stop after ep2, but I'm really curious to see how they'll deal with a manager out of no where.  

10:43 PM 9/1/2019

Carole & tuesday ep3

Tuesday's brother sounds really familiar.  I know that the bishonen/biseinen voice is a common archetype, but still.  Is that Takahiro Sakarai?  He voices Cloud in Final Fantasy VII.  Or maybe...No.  Not deep enough for Hikaru Midorikawa.  That's just wishful thinking for my old favorite.  

I feel bad for Tuesday's brother.  I don't know how, but there's a sense that he feels bad about how their mom treats her.  Maybe it's camera lingering on his reponses to her, like he's hesitating to go along with her commands.  Maybe that kind of direction implies he questions her and is reluctant to follow.  Well, if not, then that completely askewed fireplace behind him in this ep's early scene definitely is saying something.  

It's really funny how this pizzeria scene used reading Wikipedia as not just exposition but showing everyone's funny reactions.  Just like when people read a real Wiki!  LOL  I hope more movies do this kind of integration of believable internet use.  

"Teen Vogue"?  

It's funny now durian has become the popular flavor.  

Is the currency "oolongs"?  LOL  That's really close to "woolongs" from Cowbow Bebop.  I wonder why they didn't go ahead and use "woolongs" as a direct reference.  

Ok.  This laundromat scene and a random stranger getting involved in their unfinished song, is pretty endearing.  ^____^

I just realized that everyone is walking around with these AI pets, like the All-Mates from Dramatical Murder.  

It's the partially-shredded Banksy!  LOL

I thought he expected them to do a nude drawing of him or something.  Now does he think they're athletic trainers?  ...Groupies.  He thinks they're groupies.  Ok.  That was a lot of weird misdirect.  But I guess that confusion is teh point of this scene.  LOL  

She's actually burning her sheet music?!  I'm pretyt sure Ertegun was being metaphorical.  So are they portraying Tuesday as the oblivous literal type?  Or was she trying to activate the fire sprinklers to get back at his insults?  

They're pretty lucky that everyone takes their shenanigans well.  

This "running again" running gag is starting to grow on me.

So Ertegun mentioned, like Tao, that he also constructs his music from computer-analyzed trends.  So is this the theme of this series?  Music by computer calculations vs music by humans?  

They're funny.  ^____^  Turning back at Ertegun's house just to yell at him without him even hearing.  I wonder if they're going to go the old fashioned route of gigs at bars, like Gus was talking about.  

11:12 PM 9/1/2019

Maybe I can watch ep 4 without taking so many notes.  I just want to watch it.  

11:13 PM 9/1/2019

Carole & tuesday ep4

Good gobs, this series is much harder to stop watching than Violet Evergarden.  Proably because Violet Evergarden was a cry fest and that's easier to drop.  I can't do that much crying all the time!  At least Carole & Tuesday is soothing and fun.  

Roddy is still there. LOL

Isnt' there something wrong with it if it's only 19 oolongs?  

Ziggy likes Tuesday now.  ^u^

Ooh, poor Ziggy.  

Heh.  Maybe I don't actually want to stop writing reactions.  ^^;;;

This whole episode is uneasy.  You know they're not actually going to be able to make this crazy music video.  That direction AI robot is going to turn out to be worthless.  And in any case, a big action music video doesn't fit their type of songs.  It's like going up the roller coaster, waiting for the fall, when you don't liek roller coasters!  x~x!  Ok.  After this episode, I'll call this binge a night.

This montage of them trying on clothes woudl be a good music video for them.  

I wonder why they didn't start with giving the robot budget restrictions or any kind of limitations first, before it told them what was possible.  

I really like that Marie is just so casually asking these young people if they have boyfriends or girlfriends. You never see that in anime!!!!!!!!!!! ;u;  It's usually a big deal and used for comedy because of the heteronormative expectations!!!!!  but here, she's just being normal about it!  ;U;!!!!!!!!!!!!  I'm so happy!!!!!!!!!  

I don't collect Gunpla, but I call figure collection abuse!  lol

Why is this robot talkign out loud to itself?  

Dude, the bartender is super stressed, watching Gus and Marie.  Do they have a history of big arguments that could wreck his bar?  O_o???

Just say "congratulations" if you're going to burst in like that.  LOL  Takes the edge off your eavesdropping.  LOL

"I hope you're happy this time."  Awwwwwwwwwwwwww~  That's so sweet.  ;u;

Who's that random dancer in the video? LOL

Wait a sec...The car was blown up?!?

Where is the AI scammer getting returned to?  

Ok, that was funny at the end.  Maybe I can stick around for another episode.  ^^;

11:42 PM 9/1/2019

I'm going to switch to dub, so I can get some stuff done in these 20 minutes before 12am.  o~o;  

11:46 PM 9/1/2019

Carole & tuesday ep5

Wow.  Roddy's dub actor is Michael Sinterniklaas?  ...Or maybe Yuri Lowenthal? ...Hm...  Then again, there are so many new dub actors that I often find myself confusing older A-listers I'm familiar with.  ^^;  

Wait.  The dub Tao said "woolongs"!  So it's a direct reference to Cowbow Bebop in the dub!  

"You're not as cool as you used to be"?  Really?  *That* cliche?  Listen, I've liked a lot of tropes used in this series so far, but that was mean and hackneyed.  

Only 1 song?  Good.  They only have like 3 songs.  

So the Martian environment caused Angela's mom to become androgenous?  Is that why the media lost interest in her as a child actor, once she hit her 20's?  It always creeps me out how when these child actors turn 18/legal, everyone give this sense like they're leering at him in anticipation.  I guess once Angela's mom wasn't able to transition from child actress to "specifically-female sex pot" they gave up on her career.  That's kind of weird, huh?  When child actresses get old enough, as soon as they're legal, everyone expects them to sell sex with their image, even when they just _barely_ became old enough.  I don't pay enough attention to non-geeky entertainment media, but are male child actors expected to become sex symbols as soon as they turn 18 too?  That's kinda sad.  

Well, Roddy explaining to Beth why likes their music, explains why he's sticking around.  

How did Tuesday's luggage find her?  ^.^

I like how cool Carole's landlord and Tuesday's brother are being about leaving them alone to continue pursuring music.  

12:16 AM 9/2/2019

Carole & Tuesday ep6

It's funny how they're all hanging out at Carole's place all the time now.  

Well, that Skip guy was pretty cool.

Oh~  Skip was talking about Crystal forgetting the type of music she originally wanted to play.  I thought he was talking about himself or something.  First time I saw this clip of him talking to Crystal, he said "it's your song".  I thought that meant he wrote it for her.  But now hearing the same line dubbed, I finally understood it means that Cyrstal wrote this song and it was her original sound, that she's forgotten now that she plays music that sounds more like manufactured pop.  

Is that why they call alcohol "liquid courage"?  ^^;;;;;;;;;

Oh, they really did write a faster song just for this festival?  No, wait.  This is that laundromat song.  ^_^

Wow.  They're really throwing stuff at them while they play.  I feel like I've seen this portrayed only once before in an idol series, but then it had that stereotypical "somoene stands up for the protagonists" moment.  It's kind of refreshing for this more realistic portrayal, then the encouragement come in a more practical way.  

Aw, Crystal is giving them a pep talk.  There are so many nice mentor figures at this festival.  ;u;  

12:37 AM 9/2/2019

I should stop here and go to bed.  ^^;

It occurrs to me that I keep expecting an episode preview, full of joke narration, like you usually hear after an ending theme.  LOL  I guess Netflix really does expect you to binge everything.  ^^;;;  No need for previews and omake, huh?  

Ok.  I'll save ep7 for tomrrow.  

Good series.  ^____^

5:03 PM 9/2/2019

Carole & Tuesday ep7

I'm so glad all these video essays on YouTube have been teaching me to pay more attention.  Or else I wouldn't have noticed how round-table Gus/Carole&Tuesday/Roddy are together, in contrast to Tao/Angela/Angela's mom.

Angela *better* have her own category.  I can't imagine having American Idol and suddenly back-in-the-day Miley Cyrus show up as just a regular contestant.  C'mon.  

I know I sound like an old fogey, but I really like when modern media shows people streaming their life.  Because it's actually happening, and there was such a long time when movies/shows would go to lengths to not show technology even when it's become a daily part of life, just for fear of free product placement.  Seeing Pyotr streaming himself and everyone say he's "Instagram famous" may make this bit dated in 10-20 years, but I feel like it's a better representation of now, vs just avoiding portraying it all together.  

Is that native Maritan at the auditions a reference to Space Channel 5?  LOL  Naw~  LOL  

"I won't do things like that anymore. It happened because of the medicine's side effects.  I'm stable now."  Did this just get even darker than "stage mom" drama?  o~o!

Ok.  Physical abuse.  As long as it doesn't go into incest sexual abuse territory, I think I can handle this character development.  

Also, Angela's mom looks like she used to be her dad?  That photo looked very male-presenting.  I thought she was her mom, who just looked/sounded "manish" because of the androgenous effects of the Martian environment?  

I really like how this whole cast works together.  It's really sweet and warm.  I know that this scene of Carole, Tuesday, and Gus running into Roddy are supposed to portray that but in a bittersweet way, like Tuesday is contemplating all of this warmth going away if her identity is discovered through the Mars Brightest audition, but let me just enjoy it as a "slice of life" moment for now.  ^-^  

Oh, Tuesday was sad about not knowing much about Carole's background.  Wow, I feel like there was only 1 moment for that setup. I totally thought she was afraid of this found family of hers being taken away when her identity is revealed.  Ah, well.  Let's see where this goes.  

Carole *is* cool and to be envied.  ^_^

Time for a song!  I thought that if Tuesday was going to keep feeling so sad, they'd have to vent it in a song.  lol

I like how just random people get involved with Carole & Tuesday's lives.  I just watched a spoiler clip of one of their future concerts and looking at the background "finger snappers" I thought they totally found those guys on the street and asked them to snap their fingers for their song.  LOL  But isnt' this guy teaching them special handshakes the same guy from the laundromat?  o.o?  That was funny.  LOL

Ah, so this is about Tuesday learning to be "bold" like Carole.  

Dog race betting!?  ;o;

Ack.  TV crews.  

Oh, this is about Tuesday not needing the sunglasses anymore.  

5:43 PM 9/2/2019

Carole & Tuesday ep8

The heck?  That's a lot of doing BEOFRE asking!  Even if it's 2 seconds late, that's too late!  o~o!  

Cybelle is always liking their Instagram posts.  lol  I was just reading this [https://twitter.com/_le_hibou/status/1168178112007458818] "To people who follow artists: It may not be obvious but artists do notice followers who regularly interact or reply to their art!! I don’t always know the proper way to respond but I do know who all my “regulars” are if you will lol"  Reminds me that I recently had someone who often likes my IG posts, come meet me in real life and have so many expectations...Now I keep worrying about having said all the wrong things, just being a disappointment, and not having helped enough.  @_@;  

That's mean, Gus.  Don't just assume Angela is going to embarass herself.  Even if we didn't have all these background scenes of her singing well, don't say junk like that.  ~.~;

Ah, when death metal becomes the classical music of old fogeys...  ^____^

"I feel like I've gained their approval to exist."  Sheesh.  To think someone ouwl dsay it so directly and so casually.  o_O

When I first saw this YouTube clip of Pyotr performing I couldn't stop marvelling how this seems like it's completely hand-drawn.  Remember when all the idols shows started to just CGI all the performances and it looked horrible.  Like compare UtaPri's first season vs 3rd.  Or the earlier Idolmasters vs the recent ones.  It's amazing to me that anyone is fully hand-animating this anymore.  

Ok.  I'll admit.  I've been watching "Bulldog Anthem" repeatedly even before starting to watch this series.  I just like opera mixed with modern music, ok.

Was Gus the one squeezing his hand nervously when the announcer mentioned that Carole & Tuesday don't use AI to compose their songs?  

I thought it was weird to choose between different music genres represented by each contestant.  Like I love death metal, and fushion music, and pop is fun too.  But I love that whole acoustic singer-songwriter genre.  ^_________^

It's weird that they're judging OG Bulldog on his identity lies, vs his singing.  Is that how these music audition songs go?  I don't really watch those.  I mean, it's off-putting after he called everyone in the audience/judges fake and made up so many outrageous things about his background, but his song was still nice.  

But maybe that's the contrast represented between OG Bulldog vs Carole & Tuesday.  Bulldog was building this whole identity/persona to sell along with his music.  Whereas even the judge noted how Carole & Tuesday were presenting their music in and of itself alone.  I guess that was the point.  

Maybe it's been a long time since I watched battle anime or the martial arts genre, or Pokemon, but do rival always start introducing themselves to the protagonists by telling them they hate them?  The latest rival I remember being really nasty about their introductions was Yuri Plizetsky from Yuri on Ice.  I guess I'm too accustomed to the old fashioned formalities of martial arts anime, where you send a letter of challenge and formally show your opponent respect, even if it annoys you that they offer you genuine challenge.  In fact, it's because martial artist characters usually recognize the importance of being challenged, that they revere their worthy opponents and recognizing someone as a "rival" was always a sacred thing.  Even rival who hated each other like Ryouga and Ranma are still very respectful towards each other.

And talk about Shadow projecting.  If anyone is the "amatures who get carried away with themselves" it's definitely Angela.  I mean, she can sing, but everyone recognizes her as a model and is calling her a music amature.  

6:25 PM 9/2/2019

Carole & Tuesday ep9

Cybelle's really storng on the stalker vibes.  

omg Did the guest judge just get killed?

Did Cybelle just bite Tuesday?????  O~O!!  This is getting into extra weird levels of stalker!  ;o;

I'd feel kind of hyprocritical if I don't admit that Angela's songs are nice.  Even though I said that OG Bulldog's background doesn't effect the quality of his song, knowing how nasty Angela has been for most of this series has infused watching her performances with bitterness.  But her songs are nice, in and of themselves.  

I'm glad Tuesday was able to reject Cybelle so soon.  And I'm glad Cybelle lost, so her creepiness can exit the series sooner.  But I'm afraid a violent stalker subplot is going to start.  o~o!

6:49 PM 9/2/2019

Carole & Tuesday ep10

Ertegund judging Carole & Tuesday.  I should have seen that coming.  

Is this what they call "emotional blackmail"?  When someone threatens to suicide or hurt themselves if some girl doesn't like them?  Notebook stuff?  

So I didn't react much on ep10 because I was trying to multi-task.  I even tried switching to dub.  But I'm switching back to sub for ep11.

7:54 PM 9/2/2019

Carole & Tuesday ep11.

I guess Angela is doing the sleuthing in the background for this ep.  

These pre-song interviews are fine in fiction, but I can't believe if they do it right before in an actual show.  Then again, reality TV really over-inflates drama where ever they can.  ~.~;

I want to get an album of Carole & Tuesday and listen to it before I sleep.  ^___^

Ertegun taking cheap shots.  Tuesday DID preform.  

I can't help but deflate the stakes in this Mars Brightest arc since Carole & Tuesday started so low, that any kind of exposure seems fine.  And I like lower stakes for an iyashikei-like tone.  Anyway, look how hyper stressed all the overly ambitious characters are, who absolutely have to win or lose everything.  I'm fine with middle stakes.  

I like that Catherine stated her judgement as "If you asked me who I'd want to hear again...".  That's an interesting factor.

Again, I'm glad Carole & Tuesday keep running into people who are just cool with all the craziness that follows them.  Pyotr could become a nice side character.  And apparently, his stakes were also low enough that all he really wanted was some exposure.  He's already IG famous anyway.  

Are they really going to leave the crime pinned on Angela's poor manager?  

So much for low stakes and low ambition.

At least this show always resolves its issues quickly.  So far.  

Blocking is really nice in this scene.  Them sitting on opposite sides of this weird bench, really makes them seem far apart.  Appropriate.  Gotta remember this technique.

Dude, is Carole going to get a bad injury too?  o_o

Oh, yeah, she still didn't give Teusday her birthday gift.

8:27 PM 9/2/2019

Carole & Tuesday ep12

Well, I'm looking forward to the last-minute escape in a week, to get to Mars Brightest.

Always running with Carole.  LOL

"I should have brought her back no matter what she thought."  Hang on, Gus.  That should be "I should have tried to bring her back and ask her again what she thought."  

I'm glad Tuesday's brother Spencer is cool.

Already sent the instruments to the venue?  Gonna be cutting it close, huh?  ^o^

That's packing a lot of "endearing backstory motivation" into one scene for a so-far less palatable character.  I guess this really is the last episode of this season.  Is there a 2nd season of Carole & Tuesday?  

MOre cool random people they meet on the street.  LOL

Oh wow.  Angela's manager came back.  Aw.  Forgiveness is wholesome.  ^______^

I'm glad they're not driven by ambition.  That's fine for martial arts anime and battle anime, where winning represents something about honing your skill.  But I think Carole & Tuesday are more about just having the chance to sing and enjoy music.  

It's like, "You can have all the high-production concerts and collaborations with Ertegund.  Carole & Tuesday are here to play good music."  

Even got that jerk Ertegund to cry, huh? LOL  

Wait a sec.  Does Netflix USA not have season 2 up yet.  Because I've seen clips on YouTube that weren't in this season.  Wow.  I heard about Netflix withholding episodes but this is just weird...Or maybe that was nother streaming service?  

I guess that's it.  I'll go re-watch the spoiler clips on YouTube then.  

9:03 PM 9/2/2019

https://trinikid.com/carole-tuesday-plot-netflix-release-date-and-more

"Flying Dog" was involved with Carole & Tuesday?!  They worked on my favorite Sengoku Basara 2009 series!  *O*!  

Ok.  So season 1 was split into 2 parts.  And these 12 eps I just watched were part 1 of season 1.  And there's a part 2 of season 1 to come.  And season 2 is teh one that's iffy about production.  

9:08 PM 9/2/2019

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Carole_%26_Tuesday

Wait a sec.  Ertegun is freaking Mamoru Miyano?!  LOL!!!!!!!!!!  Well, after Tamaki Suoh I'm convinced he does "over dramatic self-agrandizing" characters well.  LOL  Isn't the manager of Zombieland Saga like that too?  

Roddy is freaking Miyu Irino?!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  *O*  I guess he finished his hiatus abroad.  O.o  Wait!  That means whenever there's a Ertegun/Roddy scene, it's Riku and Sora together again!  LOL

Megumi Hayashibara is in this series too?!?!  *u*

Oh, Watanabe is the supervising director with someone else doing the usual directing?  

Looks like season 1 part 2 is still airing in Japan. Netlflix is probably going to wait until the season is done before they send it to Bang Zoom Entertainment for dubbing, AND THEN it'll be on Netflix.  

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