#impulsive fun brain that just wants to goof off and that part of my brain has the steering wheel most of the time and i have to wrestle it

[tarantula-hawk-wasp]

hands and knees begging myself to be responsible tonight bc i have so much to do but i can feel in my heart irresponsible brain is going to win and im gonna end up drawing and making myself more behind and stressed but like i spent 8 hours researching and writing art history texts at my internship do i fucking want to research for my history class tonight even tho i should so i can let the professor know if my topic is viable? no i want to draw. and like even research aside i need to do dishes and laundry and pack

[murder-raven13]

My Haikyuu Ships pt. 2

A/N: This is the continuation of my Haikyuu ships and the reason I ship them. 

Warning(s): cursing, somehow these kind of turned into small relationship headcanons for some of them, not proofread, looooong

Word Count: 2,373

Part 1 Part 3

Yaku x Lev

Honestly, the height different is a big deal for me. So fucking cute, like...just what? Plus, Yaku is a grumpy smol and Lev is a happy toll and I just-

But Yaku is grumpy chaotic and Lev is puppy [and a little oblivious] chaotic and them together is just adorable chaotic. Lev irritates Yaku so much in the beginning [which, like, understandable; Lev’s a cocky idiot], but manages to learn how to deal with him. Develops an exasperated fondness for the giant. Lev learns how to control himself a little because of Yaku [this is partly because now Lev has a singular target for his mischief]. They’re just so cute and Yaku is so done [was highkey mad at himself when he caught feelings]. Lev was definitely to type to fall in love at first sight. 

Suga x Oikawa

Okay, Okay, so like I don’t know how this one started for me. But I love them, okay? They don’t like each other at first because they’re rivals, not just because they’re on different teams but because they’re both setters. But then Oikawa also thinks Suga is unfairly pretty [who doesn’t?] and Suga returns the sentiment [the level of pretty in this relationship should be illegal; it has reached critical mass]. And then Oikawa finds that Suga is an instigating little gremlin who physically abuses people as a form of affection. And Suga finds that Oikawa is super dedicated and a literal perfect director when it comes to people [he can literally make anyone sing any tune he wants with his smile]. So, these two get along like a house on fire. Two manipulative meanies. They get into so much mischief together [Iwaizumi swears he’s going to kill them or himself]. But they also are just really soft. Like, Oikawa will burrow himself into Suga’s side no matter where there are or what position they’re in [clingy baby]. And Suga will bury his hands in Oikawa’s sweater whenever they’re cold [loves the way Oikawa will shriek if he touches his skin with his cold hands]. They leave sticky notes in each other’s bags or random places for the other to find [eventually] with little compliments or things on them. Just, they’re conniving, adorable bastards and I hate them. 

Terushima x Daichi

This is another one where I don’t know where the fuck it came from. I’m not even sure I have a reason behind this other than Terushima being a smug asshole and Daichi having none of it. Terushima is a ball of reckless energy and he doesn’t take anything seriously despite being ridiculously intelligent [boy is in Class 7]. And Daichi, bless his soul, is a dad. All he does is take shit seriously and chorale reckless idiots onto the right path. So, when they get together, Terushima ensures that Daichi lets loose and doesn’t forget to take care of himself [by making sure he’s not too stressed or overworking himself]. And Daichi is, like, all of Terushima’s impulse control. Honestly the only reason Terushima doesn’t die. So, they keep each other on track and make sure that each is happy and doing their best. Just a very chill, well-balanced couple. 

Ushijima x Tendou

These are both my babies and I cannot with them. Their cuteness hurts me. Ushijima is so stoic and so single-mindedly dedicated to the things that matter to him and the list of things that matter to him is short: volleyball, his family, and Tendou. That’s it. Man is legit just completely dedicated to Tendou, no questions asked, would help him bury a body. But he sucks at communication and showing his emotions. And that’s never been a problem with Tendou. Tendou never got tired of talking to him, never stopped trying to include him, was never bothered by how little Ushijima talked and Ushijima literally loves this man so much. And Tendou, my adorable little baby, was so lonely and so insecure. He expected everyone to judge him for his appearance or to leave him because he’s annoying or a freak. But Ushijima literally does not care about Tendou’s looks not being conventional; he thinks he’s attractive all the same and has no problem telling Tendou this. And Ushijima has made a sustained effort to interact with Tendou’s interests because he knows it makes Tendou happy [Tendou talks to him about his interests, so Ushijima makes sure he knows all of them so these conversations can happen]. Just, they’re so perfect, I can’t.

Tendou x Semi

Big, energetic Tendou with grumpy, stoic Semi. Gives me life. Semi acts irritated with Tendou’s antics, but he loves them, really. And Tendou knows it, too. Teasing little shit; Semi never gets a break. Tendou helps Semi whenever he’s feeling down because he’s not doing as well as he hoped [Semi wants to be the best but being the best is hard]. And Semi helps Tendou remember that opinions don’t matter; that he likes Tendou for all those weird, annoying qualities Tendou sometimes hates. They’re very sweet and, surprisingly, Semi is the one that initiates most serious physical contact [he initiates their first kiss, their first real hug, their first cuddle session, their first time, all of it] because Tendou wants to make sure that everything is going at Semi’s pace since Semi isn’t as comfortable with touch or intimacy. A very sweet, yet playful couple. 

Shirabu x Goshiki

The small, itty-bitty amount of information I’ve been given about these boys is criminal. But I’ve seen enough to ship this. Goshiki is overzealous and a people pleaser; he just wants to be good enough to be great. One of the ones that wants to prove himself more than anything else. Praise is received extremely well. Shirabu, on the other hand, wants the opposite. He doesn’t want to be the best, he doesn’t want to be the one everyone relies on. He wants to be more of an invisible support beam, a minor cog in an overall grand and powerful machine. He’s not very forthcoming with his emotion, unless that emotion is annoyance or disdain. Goshiki tries to be cool, but can’t really keep his emotions in check very well. So, they, as a couple, play a kind of tug-of-war. Goshiki constantly pulls for more and Shirabu constantly pulls for less, which keeps the two of them balanced, putting out just enough that they’re constantly improving, just in subtle ways instead of grandiose ones. Shirabu tries to pretend he’s not a softie, but he is [only for Goshiki, though, who basks in the little moments Shirabu lets him have of uninhabited affection, whose rarity makes them worth the world to Goshiki]. 

Nishinoya x Tsukishima

This one came about because of the lowkey abusive relationship Noya has with Tsukishima. Noya is like 5′2 and Tsukki is like a whole foot taller. Yet Noya can and will stand up to Tsukki and let him know when he’s being an ass, physical methods used as necessary [most of this is limited to hitting his side or messing with his glasses if Tsukki’s face is within reach]. Noya will also mock Tsukki, playfully, and reminds him of his age, which is good for Tsukki because he’s chronically withering inside his little tsundre shell. Noya is also highkey really supportive. Whenever Tsukki does something good, no matter how subtle it is, Noya is there to give him recognition for it, which, again, reminds Tsukki that he can be nicer and that Noya can see him even when he’s trying to hide. And Noya has fun with Tsukki because he keeps him on his toes; they have a fun relationship built of just the right amount of trust and ‘lets remember to have fun’.

Daichi x Kuroo

My captain babes. Daichi and Kuroo both have very forthcoming personalities. But Kuroo is much better at remembering that it’s important he acts goofy and stupid sometimes because he’s a student, a kid, and carry a lot of stress. Daichi isn’t so good at this. He’s gotten so used to dealing with reckless children that need him to be a serious iron fist that he’s forgotten that he needs to let go sometimes and that that’s okay. Kuroo helps him remember this. And their relationship is built around understanding. When one needs help or a little space to deal with their serious stuff, the other is right there to be the pillar they need. If they need to goof around and forget a little, they’re there and prepped with hot chocolate and bad trivia games that Daichi sucks at. When they’re both stressed under piles of work, they never forget the other. They’ll sit next to each other at the table, on the bed, on the couch, the floor, with their legs or their shoulders or their feet lightly touching, just as a reminder that they’re there. If one falls asleep, the other will save their work and haul them to bed because sleeping slumped over isn’t any good. Out of my ships, this is definitely one of the best, in terms of matching and functionality as a serious couple. 

Kuroo x Bokuto

They’re relationship isn’t as serious. Bokuto is a refugee for Kuroo, a place where he can unapologetically turn his brain off. He doesn’t have to be a captain or responsible or the top of his class. He can just be Kuroo and Bokuto has fun with him. They go on adventures and play volleyball together, experimenting with new moves or ideas all the time. Definitely the couple that would regularly go to the amusement park or the fair. Kuroo gives Bokuto his undivided attention whenever they’re together and spoils the hell out of him and Bokuto’s mood swings don’t bother him, he knows what to do. Boys are very committed to each other; they can’t imagine ever not being together because their relationship is just so fun and comfortable. It’s safe and loving, without a doubt, because they are, first and foremost, best friends. 

Yaku x Kuroo

Hated each other at first because their middle school teams were rivals. And Yaku’s a grumpy little gremlin that can be a little too serious sometimes. But that’s just until he relaxes. Once he’s comfortable with people, he gets a lot less serious and just a little less grumpy [he’s an angry smol and my mind cannot be changed]. But he loves Kuroo. Can’t help snorting at Kuroo’s god awful chemistry pickup lines; they’re just that bad. He loves them, though. And he can throw them right back. They have chemistry and physics debates all the time, often while doing something completely non-serious, like Twister or that headband game. Kenma can’t stand being around them because they throw insults at each other like they’re compliments, loving voices and touches and all. Kuroo is always touching Yaku, will literally reach for him completely subconsciously, a fact Yaku mocks him ruthlessly for despite that fact that he always adjusts himself to fit the contact better [because he’s just as clingy as Kuroo, just not as openly]. Sickeningly cute behind closed doors, only mildly affectionate in public. 

Oikawa x Kuroo

A couple that met later in life. I ship them as college students, to be honest. But they would be cute. Kuroo is goofy and a science nerd; Oikawa would alien talk him into a stupor. Iwaizumi is just glad he is no longer the sole participant in Oikawa’s space conversations. These two would casually come up with plans to demolish their opponent’s spirit and have fun doing it. Plot murder together on a regular Tuesday night. Would definitely be able to calm the other down when they began to take shit too far. 

Ushijima x Oikawa

[Can y’all tell I’m a whore for the enemies to lovers trope?]

Ushijima is a huge ball of attractive stoic that doesn’t know how to properly act on his feelings. Has always admired Oikawa as a setter [legit has crushed on this boy since the first time they plated a game together in middle school and Oikawa vowed to beat him]. Ushijima has no problem telling Oikawa how much he admires his playing, his skill, and his determination to win no matter what. Oikawa had no idea in high school that Ushijima’s interactions with him were Ushijima’s way of showing he liked him. He saw it as antagonization because Ushijima thought he was better [Ushijima thought they would have been their best together]. His growing feelings for Ushijima forced Oikawa to face some of his own securities and grow as a person. Had to go through almost an entire identity crisis when he realized he was in love with Ushijima of all people. Iwaizumi wanted to throw his entire phone away Oikawa called him to whine so much. And Oikawa’s lack of understanding Ushijima’s advances forced Ushijima to become more adept at reading others and expressing his own feelings in a concise, clear way. 

Kenma x Yamamoto

This is my favorite Kenma ship and one of my favorite overall ships. Let me tell you why. I did not ship them until season 4 because I didn’t know much about their relationship until then. But Tora and Kenma are another set that didn’t get along at first. Their personalities makes them natural antagonists to the other. Yamamoto is a try hard and always gives 120% in everything he does. Kenma is the type to give a very efficient 70%, meaning that he finds the best ways to get the same results 100% would have gotten, just without as much work put into it. And they have such a grudging respect for the other at first, once they begin to come to terms with the other. That respect grows and becomes the foundation for their relationship. They know that the other is going to do their job and they’re going to do it well. They have complete faith in the other and when they work together, their personalities become magnified. Kenma relies on Tora to be forthcoming and Tora expects Kenma to find the best way to do things. They just, they’re perfect, and I love them. Please, why is there so little content for this ship?

On that note, Imma end this. There will probably most definitely be a part 3 to this because I don’t have free time, but that’s never stopped me. 

[captainseaweedbrains]

The Dance of the Color Guard, Op. 64 Ch. 4

Katniss and Peeta used to be best friends when they were kids, but now in high school, they're barely on speaking terms. It isn't until they are forced together as the titular star-crossed lovers for their marching band's field show that they will have to face their past mistakes and try to get along if they ever hope of defeating the notorious Capitol Height's Imperial Marching Crusaders in competition.

It's all about winning and if that means pretending to be in love with Peeta Mellark, so be it.

A/N: Thank you to @rosegardeninwinter​ for editing and helping push me to finish! You are the best and any mistakes found are mine. :) 

Start at the beginning on Ao3: X

Ch. 4 Ao3: X

June

“Peeta really isn’t that bad,” Madge said for what felt like the millionth time. Katniss rolled her eyes and flipped the page of her magazine. Ever since learning that Peeta was going to be the Romeo to Katniss’ Juliet, Madge had been defending him every chance she got. “He’s really not. And he’s so smart, Katniss. Picks up on things real quickly. So all this moping around you’ve been doing all week is stupid.”

Katniss frowned and shoved her sunglasses further up her nose, preferring the screams of the children running around them on the pool deck to Madge defending Peeta Mellark to her once again. Was she being overly dramatic about this? Maybe. Was Madge right that Peeta wasn’t as bad as she made him out to be? Perhaps. But it still sucked and she couldn’t stop complaining about it.

“I know you’re Team Peeta,” she sighed, “but would it kill you to see things from my perspective just this once? Isn’t that what girl friends are supposed to do? Side with their other girl friends?”

“Maybe if you were right about him being a bad person, I would,” Madge sniffed, picking up her own gossip magazine to flip through. “But as of right now, you’ve provided me no evidence in support of your claim.” It was times like these Katniss wished her friend wasn’t the daughter of a prestigious lawyer.

“Gale sides with me,” she argued, pointing at her tall friend standing in line between two twelve-year-old kids for their slushies. “Doesn’t that count for anything on my behalf?”

“Gale’s an idiot.”

“An idiot you’re dating.” Madge stuck her tongue out at that, unable to refute her long-standing relationship with Gale and Katniss smiled. Of all the relationships she’d seen throughout the years—and band romances had provided plenty of weird, random romances, the weirdest being Johanna Mason and Melinda “Cashmere” Hewitt—Madge and Gale’s was the only one she saw that made no sense on paper yet made complete sense in person. The spoiled rich girl with a heart of gold and the rough-around-the-edges boy from the bad part of town? She never used to buy it in the movies, thinking the concept too ridiculous, but Madge and Gale proved her wrong time and time again.

Even when they had broken up sophomore year, claiming they were just too different, Katniss was still proven wrong because they couldn’t shut up about each other—griping about how she just didn’t understand and he always has to be right and I can’t believe I lost my virginity to that, a fact Katniss could have gone her whole life not knowing. When they got back together, it was hard to say who was more thrilled about it: the happy couple or Katniss.

“Come on, Madge,” she sighed, flopping back in her lounge seat. “Why must you always be the diplomatic one?”

“Someone has to be between your impulsiveness and Gale’s anarchy attitude.

“Did someone say anarchy?” the anarchist himself joked, handing Madge her lime-flavored slushie with a kiss on the lips for a tip. He handed Katniss her watermelon one and jokingly asked where his tip was. Katniss threw her three dollars at him with a “Keep the change” rebuttal. Gale laughed and pocketed the cash, lifting Madge’s legs up and over onto his lap so he could sit.

“So what did I miss?”

Madge snorted and offered her boyfriend a sip of her slushie. “Here’s a hint: it’s Katniss’ favorite subject.”

Gale rolled his eyes and accepted the drink. “Mellark again?” He took a large sip and winced at the sudden brain freeze, handing the large cup back. “God, I’m so sick of hearing about that guy. Katniss, get over it and move on already.” Even Gale was getting sick of her talking about it? Somehow, that hit lower on the pathetic scale. Gale was her complaining companion. Her bitch buddy. The person she reserved all her annoyances for because she knew he’d have his own trivial things to complain about. Hell, their friendship was founded upon complaining, starting in 8th Grade Science when their teacher kept giving them busy work to cope with the very public scandal of his wife sleeping with their school principal. They complained about everything with each other.

And now even Gale had said enough.

Well this sucked.

“Fine,” she said, not really feeling fine about it. “I won’t talk about it anymore.” Her friends looked doubtful. “I mean it! No more talk of Peeta Mellark and how my whole summer is practically ruined because I have to have extra practices to teach him how to dance on the field. And I’m not going to talk about how that cuts into my shifts at Aunt LuLu’s store, which means my spending money is going to be next to nothing by the time school starts. So if you two ever want to do anything more fun than hanging around the school parking lot, I guess you’re shit out of luck.”

Gale smiled sweetly at Madge. “I’m so glad she’s not talking about it anymore.” Katniss scowled and gave them the middle finger, causing them both to laugh.

“I think you both are very biased over this whole thing,” Katniss said after a while. Gale and Madge didn’t say anything, too focused on tanning and summer reading homework. That didn’t seem to stop Katniss from continuing. “You’re both too friendly with him because of classes and band. He’s gotten to you.”

“One of us is biased,” Gale said, “and it’s not us. It’s you. You’ve hated him for as long as I’ve known you.”

“With good reason!” she huffed, crossing her arms. They didn’t ask her to elaborate on that, already making it clear they were done talking about Peeta Mellark and all the annoyances he brought to her life, and she hated the fact that she did want to keep talking about him. About marching band. About the whole stupid situation. But she kept her promise and kept her mouth shut. 

No one said anything further until Madge declared herself starving and Gale suggested they stuff their faces with greasy burgers and fries at Sae’s.

**********

Sae’s Diner was packed with its usual lunch crowd—men and women from the factories nearby on lunch, sitting at the worn pastel-colored counter; a couple of kids they recognized from school goofing off in the corner booth, shooting straw wrappers off the straws; and a book club filled with women in their fifties discussing some brick of a book over coffee and Sae’s famous blueberry and cream pie sitting in the center of the small diner. The old woman herself smiled warmly at them when they’d walked in, asking if they were wanting the usual. 

“You’re the best, Sae,” Gale thanked as they waved and headed to their booth next to the front door. 

As they waited for their cheeseburgers and chocolate milkshakes, Gale chatted about some war movie he and his brothers saw that sounded god awful boring, no matter how much he tried re-explaining the plot to them. Madge and Katniss rolled their eyes and told him if he wanted to see the movie again so badly, to go see it by himself. “I’m not going to the movies by myself like some weirdo,” he scoffed, taking his hands off the table as the waitress deposited their plates of food and drinks. 

“Why not?” Katniss asked, picking up a french fry to dip into her milkshake. “I do it all the time.” 

“Because you hate people.” 

“So do you.” He shrugged, not having much to argue there, and picked up his burger. 

“So what time is Trinket summoning you tomorrow?” Gale asked, changing the subject completely, and tearing into his burger. Grease dripped down his hands and Madge tossed a pile of napkins at him. He accepted with a smile and slid his side of pickles over to her, something he purposely ordered more of because he knew how much she liked them. Madge happily bit into one, her eyes gazing at him with such adoration, Katniss rolled her eyes. Their coupling was too much for her sometimes. 

“I thought you didn’t want me talking about marching band,” she said innocently enough, taking a bite into her own burger.

“I didn’t want you talking about Mellark,” he said pointedly, wagging a fry at her. “Marching band is different. Less annoying and less boy drama. So what time does Miss Cream Puff have you coming in?”

It irritated her that Gale simplified her great dislike for Peeta Mellark as mere boy drama because it was far more complicated than that, but there was no point trying to explain it to Gale. He understood a lot about her, but when it came to Peeta… Well, it was best to let him believe whatever he wanted. “Eight a.m. sharp,” she said sourly, dipping another french fry into her milkshake.

Gale winced. “That sucks. Why so early?” 

“Peeta couldn’t get out of working his afternoon shifts and it was either that or not have a single weekend off until November.” She was still bitter about the change in schedule. Originally Miss Trinket wanted them twice a week outside of color guard’s normal rehearsal times, but with Peeta’s work schedule not being as flexible as Katniss’, she’d decided to make it morning rehearsals and make those shorter, which forced them to add another day of rehearsal to make up for the cut time. Now instead of having rehearsal four times a week, Katniss had five with her weekends full of shifts at Aunt LuLu’s shop for the extra cash she desperately needed. This summer was going to blow.

“I still think you should’ve been picked for Juliet,” Katniss told Madge teasingly. “You and Gale, maybe?” she cooed. “The true star-crossed lovers of Athens Ridge.” 

Gale scowled. “I’d rather drop dead than have to deal with Trinket when she’s in choreographer mode. She’s a total tyrant.” 

“She’s not so bad once you get used to her.” 

“Tell me what you think after dealing with her for a whole season, oh captain, my captain.” 

Point taken.

Much like at the pool, they talked for a bit about things going on in their lives—Madge taking some online French class because her grades last semester weren’t great; Gale’s successful find for parts with Thom in the junkyard. Katniss didn’t say much as she munched on her burger and fries, afraid Madge would lecture her again on Peeta Mellark and her inability to let things go with him. That and she promised she was done talking about him. But outside of marching band and him, not much was going on in her life. She felt a bit pathetic about that. 

Conversation picked up when Sae came over, asking how things were doing. The three smiled at the old woman, happy to fill her in on all the small details of their lives. Sae was the unofficial grandmother of the Seam. Always there to show her support for her kiddos. Her small diner was covered with pictures of sports teams she’s sponsored over the years, pictures of her and kids dressed in dance gear, holding certificates. 

“Did you hear the news about Katniss, Sae?” Madge asked when the topic of marching band came up. Sae was always interested in that, loving watching her talented kids play as they wove around the field. “She’s going to be our Juliet this year! Isn’t that exciting?” 

Sae’s grey eyes warmed, turning to Katniss. “Is that so? Captain and the lead part?” She shook her head in astonishment, her salt and peppered colored hair coming loose from her hair tie. “You were always so talented with those flags. I’m not surprised. Who’s your Romeo?” 

“Peeta Mellark.” The name felt lodged in her throat, but thankfully, it squeezed out without too much of a squeak in her voice. 

Sae didn’t know all the kids on the west side, but she definitely knew Peeta. He would often tag along with her and her dad on their trips to the woods, stopping at the diner after for hot chocolate and pie. In fact, his picture was one of the first ones you saw coming in—Sae and six-year-old Peeta smiling at the camera, her arm around him as he proudly held up his lost baby tooth. Her dad had taken the picture, she remembered, and if the camera’s lens had shifted a little more to the right, it would have also captured five-year-old Katniss pouting on the side, upset that he kept losing his baby teeth when she’d lost none. It was a picture her gaze avoided whenever they visited Sae’s, unable to stomach the sight of an old friend turned asshole, the memory of her dad’s laughter as he took the photo. 

“Oh, Peeta,” Sae chuckled, the familiar twinkle she always got in her eyes when he was around. The old woman doted on him when they were kids and he ate up her attention like there was no tomorrow. “How is that boy? Staying out of mischief, I hope?” 

Gale and Madge looked to her with knowing smiles, wondering what she would say. Katniss cleared her throat and looked down at her half-eaten plate for a moment. “Fine, I guess. We don’t hang out anymore. You know that, Sae.” 

She did know that, but it never stopped her from asking whenever he came up. “Aye, girl, I do. I suppose you aren’t happy with Effie Trinket’s choice, then?” 

Gale snorted. “Happy? More like obsessively pissed. She hasn’t shut up about it since May.” She glared at her friend and he shrugged, popping a fry in his mouth. “What? You haven’t.” 

Sae gave one of her warm, crooked teeth smiles. “Maybe this is the push you kiddos need to kiss and make up.” Katniss’ cheeks warmed at the mention of kisses, remembering Leevy’s comment how they were so going to have sex by the end of the year. She still hadn’t fully forgiven her friend for that suggestion.

“I’m afraid that’s impossible, Sae,” she said, her voice still a little strained. “We’re just too different.”  

“Ah, well. I suppose we grow in different directions sometimes,” the woman sighed with a shake of her head. A woman from the book club table called for her and Sae gave them a parting wave and smile. “Tell Peeta ol’ Sae misses her boy and that he needs to come in more. I haven’t seen him in ages.”

Katniss pointedly avoided Gale and Madge’s amused smirks, focusing on the burger in front of her. “I’ll be sure to pass the message along,” she muttered, taking a big bite of her food to avoid continuing this conversation. She loved Sae. Thought of her like a grandmother. But there was no way in hell was she telling Peeta that. No way. Then he’d think she was gushing about him to anyone who would listen, thrilled to be his Juliet, a role many girls at school would kill for (Probably. Maybe. She thinks.), and then his stupid ego would just get bigger and he’d be even more obnoxious to deal with. No, best not to mention anything and lie next time she saw Sae. 

A small part felt guilty at that, though, because Sae was like a grandma who wanted the best for her, and Peeta too, she guessed, but again, Sae didn’t know what happened between them. And Katniss wasn’t going to fill her in on their broken history six years too late. 

Her phone next to her plate vibrated, signifying a text message just came in. Wiping her greasy hands, Katniss frowned, picking up her phone. Who was texting her? Everyone who’d text her was either sitting right across from her or were busy at work or camp. The little text message lit up at her touch, showing it was from an unknown number, and her frown turned into a scowl as she read it. 

Hey!!!!!!!!!1!1111!!!!!!! the message read with a thousand typo-filled exclamation marks. God, who text like that? Trinket gave me ur ######## Hope thats cool. Thought Id give mine!!!!!!!111111 🤗 Ill see u  Mon dearest Juliet ❤️❤️❤️❤️!!!!!!!!!!!!111!😘😘😘😘!!!111!!!!!! 

For the briefest of seconds, Katniss swore her vision blacked out. One moment she was staring at her phone. The next, darkness. Like her brain couldn’t process the simple text on her phone and chose to shut down instead. When her vision cleared, the message was still there, glaring brightly at her with those thousand exclamation/number marks. 

Peeta Mellark texted her. He had her number.

         Her stomach churned and now she feared that what her mother always warned about Sae’s greasy food would come true now and she’d throw it all up. 

Peeta Mellark texted her. It was truly official. He had her number and she had his and they were partners now. If she had any doubts about this whole thing before—as if she had dreamt the last four weeks of her life—they were wiped clean now. Replaced with this typo-filled text message from the very boy who hurt her. 

“You okay?” Madge asked.

Katniss nodded and clicked out of the message, tossing the phone into her bag. She’d deal with it later.

[theriverpersonshadow]

Lamia Drama Part 5

It’s ya boi Oozy. Apparently my brain deeply desires to touch on some potentially uncomfortable subjects today. Warnings for a completely made up medical condition - that is NOT meant to depict anything irl and any similarity to such is completely unintentional on my part - being treated with some seriousness as a chronic condition that does impact Oozy’s life.

Also skirts the line a bit between Corny laziness, general Sansitude, and feelings of guilt and depression. And touch starvation. But thankfully the snake DOES get pet in this and he ends the chapter happy ^u^

The Corny species of lamia belongs to @vex-bittys

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           Oozy was laying in his hammock, a thing patched together from whatever they make raincoats from, as almost always. He could get down, but then someone would have to deal with the mess. Besides, one of the staff had gotten him a waterproof phone long ago. The hammock was coated in a layer of slime… as was he. As always. Most people found it gross, but he’d been born with it.

           Despite what some might think, snakes aren’t slimy… usually. He was a rare exception to that. No one could figure out why, it wasn’t anything wrong with him physically… So far as they could tell his soul just thought he was an amphibian or something. Maybe he should join the Kraits, but they didn’t seem overly fond of his weird magic-mucus either (not that they’d ever say it). Heh. But for real, the best theory anyone had was either that he did have some kind of amphibian magic-gene that wasn’t working right, or that for some reason his soul couldn’t process magic quite right, making a sort of buildup of inert magical sludge. Possibly both. So yeah, he was a slimy boy.

           If he showered more often it’d probably be manageable, but then some worker would have to clean up after him on the way to the shower and they’d have to rinse the hammock off too or else there’d be little point in showering in the first place, and if he was taking two or three showers a day, when would anyone else? Plus that’s just a lot of showers. Nah, it’s easier for everyone to just not. Or maybe those are just excuses, but hey, he’s a lazybones, born and bred.

           Oozy sits there in a half-daze, only partly awake as his hammock slowly sways. There was a podcast going on in his ears but he was only half-listening. Somehow he’d gotten from DnD advice to doctors? More likely he just hit a button by accident. Regardless of how he got here, her voice is soothing, even if he probably doesn’t need to know much about orthopedics. It’s enough to make him want to nap…

           Until footsteps come by. He waits for them to pass, but they don’t. He peaks an eye open to see a girl pacing back and forth, occasionally stealing glances at the nursery. Looks like they’ve got a new volunteer. Well, he should introduce himself then.

           “Yo, sup,” Oozy says. He stretches his arms and neck, joints popping, and pushes his upper body up onto the fake-trees holding his hammock up so he can get a better view of her. His nose flicks and he impulsively says, “Ya smell like dirt.”

           “Hmm? Oh, yeah, I work in a greenhouse.” Dear lord she was loud. Not upset or yelling or anything, but she could rival a full grown Papython.

           “Ah, they bring you in to get us more real plants or something? I don’t know if they can have indoor trees though.”

           “Probably not. Most trees aren’t really shade-plants anyways, and even if they were, they can’t grow strong enough without wind.”

           “Really? Huh, weird. But I’ll take your word for it,” Oozy says. He removes a little more of himself from the slimy confines of his hammock, draping himself over the tree and leaning his upper body down so he’s closer to her level. “So, why are you here then? Looking to adopt? I think you’ve gone too far then.” There weren’t many to adopt this far back. There wasn’t officially a “permanent residency” ward or anything, and theoretically anyone could get adopted, but let’s face it, they weren’t going to. They were hidden in the back for a reason, you’d have to be looking for a special case to even reach him.

           “I heard there’s DnD.”

           Oozy blinks a few times, then chuckles, “Well alright then!” Not the answer he expected, but okay. “They advertising it now?”

           “I mean, apparently yeah! Though in retrospect, I think you were expected to come with a lamia…” The girl looked down,

           Oozy shrugged, ���Maybe. They have community events now and then and stuff.” Or maybe they were trying to get some of them out of there. No reason it couldn’t be both.

           The girl nodded. “So, uh… I followed someone, they had gold teeth? The DM. Then one of the cobra ones wanted me to leave, and, uh… Should I go?”

           Keith had taken her to the nursery, hadn’t he? “Nah, Keith just did something dumb. Whatcha thinking of playing?” He was curious how she was going to be worked in. They pretty well had their bases covered already. Red was the Tank and melee fighter, Trousle was the party face, Nikolai had healing and support covered, Liam was the other party face who really liked fireballs (freaking sorcerers), and… Well, Oozy himself was mostly just there to goof around. He’d made a ranger and had an Giant Owl (maybe not on the list, but Keith was nice enough to give him an upgrade since rangers were kinda bad in 5e) as his animal companion. The “hoo” jokes flew left and right! What could he say, him and his Giant Owl, Hoodini, were birds of a feather.

           “I mean, I figured I’d see what you guys already have? Warlocks are one of my favorites – patrons are basically built in lore – but Druids are a mood and Martials can be fun too. Sometimes you just wanna smash stuff with a big hammer, y’know?”

           “Mood.” Oozy said. “Well, we could probably use another full martial, but ask Hux, that’s sorta his thing, y’know?”

           The girl nodded. “Sounds good.”

           “Heh, yeah. Name’s Oozy by the way. Who are you?”

           “Alex.”

           “Nice to meet ya Alex. I’d shake your hand, but, well…” He held his hands up, shrugging. A drop of slime hit the floor.

           “Are you okay by the way? You’re kinda…” She made a vague hand motion, squirming in place.

           “Eh, I live with it. Called Oozy for a reason, y’know?” Oozy said.

           “… can I touch it? Or you? Both?”

           Oozy blinked a few times, surprised. “Uh… sure? If ya want?” He crawled a little further down, looping around the tree to keep himself stable. The girl’s hand reached out and touched his head. It was rather nice, actually. He found himself leaning into it, the gentle strokes feeling warm and tingly despite her hands being cold. Might as well enjoy it while it lasts, right? His tail relaxes some as he sinks into the feeling, eyes shutting.

           …

           …

           …

           Well, if she wants to keep petting him, he’s not going to stop her. This feels great. Hopefully she’s not just trying to be nice, but she seems pretty wrapped up in it herself, running her fingers through the layer of goo that had built up and down to the bone below. Oozy was vaguely aware that he was dripping all over the floor (and probably on her shoes, but they were caked in dirt and scuffs anyways), but y’know what, it was someone else’s problem. He started to reach out instinctively, wanting to wrap around her and cuddle, but she drew back.

           “Uh… sorry. I don’t really like my clothes getting wet… It’s really uncomfortable.”

           Something in him deflated, soul feeling heavy, but he put on a lax smile and nodded, “Eh, don’t worry about it.” Just keep petting him, please…

           “It’s alright. Heh, it feels kinda cool, y’know? Maybe not exactly like slime, but, like… It’s fun to play with.” Pause. “That’s a weird thing to say, huh?”

           Oozy snorted, “A little, but I ain’t gonna complain.”

           “Can I…?” She pointed to his tail.

           “Go for it.”

           Her fingers stroked down the length of his scales and he shuddered. It didn’t feel bad or sexual or anything, but it’d been a while since anyone had stroked him. Dear lord how did he go so long without this? He wanted nothing more than to wrap around her in a full body cuddle, to just run fingers through her hair and vice versa, to just get any kind of physical contact from someone. He was starving for it. Tears sprung to his eyesockets but he blinked them away before she could see. It was just so nice…

           “Thank ya,” he whispered, voice coming out choked.

           “Are you alright?”

           “Yeah… Yeah.” His soul felt a little lighter and he smiled in earnest, “Heh, feels good to get some of this off me.” Maybe he should take a shower today… The floor was a mess anyways after all. But it’s fine, it’s tile. It’d mop up. “Thanks.”

           “No problem. I think you feel cool.”

           “I mean, I am a reptile.” He snorted at himself, finally just saying fuck it and crawling down to sprawl on the floor like a limp, happy noodle. “I mean, probably.” There was a slight chance he was an amphibian after all.

[revisionaryhistory]

Three Days ~ 72

~*~Sebastian~*~

Yes, I gave Emma a key on her way out the door and told her to keep it. Pretty chickenshit, huh? Only it's not. I gave her a key on her way out the door and told her to keep it because it's not a big deal. There's no reason to have a conversation. I had my mom drive me to the back of the school where I put my shit in her vehicle. I knew the code and thought nothing of stowing my suitcase. I realize my apartment is different than a vehicle. Again, except it's not. The thought of her calling or, fuck, knocking on the door when she came back, did not feel right. And if I was in the shower, what was she going to do, sit outside the door and knock occasionally? Fuck no. So, I gave her a key.

The worst thing Emma would do is show up before I got home and rearrange some drawers and leave some cabinets open. Speaking of drawers, I cleared out a couple for her. The first thing I did after she left was to go into my bedroom and unpacked her suitcase, which I then shoved in the hall closet. The last time she was here I liked her things mixed in with mine. Still true. Her dresses hanging in my closet, shampoo in my shower, and the toothbrush I'd held hostage all made me smile.

Everything about Emma made me smile.

I got back to work only to be interrupted by a text from Will telling me Alissa was having lunch with Angie and Emma. Oh good, I might get to have another fun conversation. After the group chat with Alissa and Kirk I was confident that wouldn't happen. By the time we were done, I think they understood they could have fucked things up. Luckily Emma came to me. Plus, I learned how different my behavior looked to friends. Nothing I could do about that and in the end, it turned out well.

Before I knew it, I heard a key in my front door. The expected thrill from that was better than I imagined. I put everything down with a plan for her to return to my lap. Plan was blown when Emma and Angie struggled through the door carrying an obscene number of bags. So many colors, sizes, and store names on so many bags.

I stood to help, taking from one of her hands, "What the fuck did you two do?"

Emma stretched up onto her toes and kissed me, "I have a problem."

"You ran out of stores?"

"No." She glared at me. "Sometimes the stars align. Free time in the city on a beautiful day for shopping. My best friend for company and to stop me from buying a fashion faux pas. A boyfriend who has an appreciation for me in nice things. And an impending trip to France."

Angie added, "Stores with new inventory. And a tequila lunch to impair our impulse control at that adorable shop you two found."

I lined the bags up on our dance floor. "I think you two are dangerous. You don’t reign each other in."

They laughed, “Yes we do." Both waved a hand over the bags and Emma said, "This could have been much worse."

Just looking at the bags and glimpses of their contents I guessed there were many hundreds of dollars in my living room. I liked how she shopped. "Show me everything." This buying spree was all me. Show tonight, first date, and five days in Paris. "I’m excited.” Her trying on everything in a just for me fashion show would have to wait for another time.

I oohed and awwed and made cringey faces with each outfit. The pair had a similar style, with Emma's being kicked up a notch. She took more risks. "Which will you be torturing me with tonight?"

Emma stuck her tongue out with a huge grin, "Which do you want?"

I felt my dirty smirk, "You know which one." My pants felt a little tighter with just the thought.

Angie waved, "I don't."

"You'll have to wait."

Angie looked from Emma to me, "I'd warn you to be careful what you ask for, but I think you can handle the strain."

"Or die trying." I shrugged.

We sat down, laughing and talking until Angie noticed the time. "Shit."

Soundcheck at six, doors at seven, then music at eight. The second group on at ten-thirty.

"Can you get ready here and go over with us?" It made no sense for her to round trip to Brooklyn when Bowery Ballroom was ten minutes away on a bad night.

Angie looked at Emma, "Do you have shoes?"

Emma nodded.

I stood up, "Let me shower then you two can have the bedroom."

Emma stood, "I'll grab my stuff and we’ll start in the guest bath." She followed me into the bedroom, where she attempted to tackle me onto my bed. I let her. She pushed me to my back and stretched out on me. "Did you have a good day?"

First things first. I kissed her, resting my hands on her ass. "I did. Not as good as you."

"Then I will make sure you have a good night."

"That sounds fun."

Emma kissed me, her tongue seeking out mine. I left one hand on her ass and sunk the other in her hair I didn't let her go the first time she tried to push away. I wasn't ready. The second time I eased my grip and she stayed up on her arms hovering over me for several seconds. I cocked my head and pulled down my eyebrows. She smiled and lowered for a soft kiss, “I love you."

"I love you."

Emma stood up and walked to where she'd put her bag. "Umm, Sebastian?"

I'd taken off my shirt, working on my shorts, "I unpacked."

"You unpacked me?" She looked a little surprised.

"I did." I walked into the bathroom naked. "Makeup and stuff in here. Clothes in some drawers."

She followed me, "Thank you." Emma's fingers trailed down my chest, stopping below my navel.

"Would you believe me if I said I don't like bags on the floor?"

"No."

I touched my lips to hers, staying close, "Smart girl." I pulled open the shower door, "Get away from me or we'll be late."

She pinched my ass with a laugh before grabbing her stuff and leaving.

I've given up drawer space before. Having someone dig clean panties out of a suitcase after you fucked her is shitty if she's staying longer than a weekend. I didn't think giving her drawers warranted a conversation either. However, now that she's home and I'm alone in the shower my overthinking brain wonders. It would have to wait.

The ladies were dressing up, but I was not. The Bowery is a big hot room shoved full of people. When I'd been there, one side of the mezzanine was roped off for a VIP area with tables and bar service. There's no way in hell Kirk won’t have a section for friends and family for him to hold court in. Still, it's a rock show. I pulled on a pair of jeans, a dark blue t-shirt and a pair of boots. Brushed my teeth, threw some product in my hair, and prepared to evacuate the space. I yelled down the hall, "Ladies, room is yours.” I heard them gathering and coming my way. I waited until they were in the room before holding out my arms, "Do I look acceptable?"

Emma stopped with a smile, "You look wonderful."

Angie shook her head, "Uh uh, she's wearing black. You’re too dark and you’ll blend."

I wasn't a stranger to complementary dressing for a date. "The blue’s not different enough?"

"Too dark a blue. On the mezzanine it'll look black."

I looked for Emma who was sitting on the bed, "Don't look at me. I wear tour shorts to dad's shows and Jimmy wasn’t about to change from his collared shirts."

Angie laughed, "His style was pretentious asshole." She thought a second, "I'd say white for a stark contrast or a red. Even though red is darker it’s a good look. Red and black is better than navy and black."

Emma raised her hand.

Angie called on her, "Yes, Emiliana."

"Ms. Angie, I would like to vote red." Of course, she would.

Angie looked at me, "How does Mr. Seb feel about the request?"

"I feel like my girlfriend is making me her own personal eye candy." The two ladies looked at each other aghast. I snickered, "I approve because I got input on the dress." I ducked onto the closet and pulled out the exact red shirt Emma wanted. Our second date and her first visit I opened the door in it. I held it out, "Better." They nodded. I handed the red one to Angie, handed the navy one to Emma, and took the red from Angie. They were shifting eyes from each other and me. I stood there looking between them.

"Do we pay you for the strip show?" I liked Angie playing with me like I did Chris, Will, and Chace goofing off with Emma.

I shook my head, "No, but tips are appreciated." I glanced at the clock, "We need to be out in thirty minutes if we don’t want to be late."

"We'll be ready."

"You both already look beautiful.  Your clothes are in the right three drawers." Emma nodded with a smile and I leaned over on one foot to kiss her, "Love you."

Emma threw out, "Te iubesc, Sebasti-an."

I shivered, "I'll be waiting by the window.”

I was out the door when I heard Angie. "He's not emotionally unavailable. He's crazy in love."

I yelled back, "Thanks for your confidence."

I forgot the best friend was in the room when Alissa and Kirk were dropping bombs. We're way past that now. If Angie had doubts I couldn’t blame her. She'd be the one to deal with any destruction I caused. I was going to bust my balls not to. I may not be the best at giving myself credit for my good points, but I’m not stupid. Most of the time.

The longer it took them to come out the antsier I got. Emma doesn't take this long to get ready. Either they're talking more than getting ready or she's doing something complicated. No idea which.

Twenty minutes in Angie came down the hall. She'd curled her hair and had on the bright red dress she'd bought today. It was fitted, short, and off the shoulder. I whistled, "Sexy. Your husband will like."

Angie smiled, "Thank you. He likes red."

"Looks good on you." I laughed. "I can see why Eli never disputed the throuple thing. I'm going to enjoy walking in with two of you."

"Yeah, he ate that up. I'm sure he felt like his single self again. Threesomes with fans were his thing. Every night on tour and when they played locally."

I didn't know what to say. Part of me was impressed. I'd had threesomes, but every night? They're fun, but there's a lot of things going on all at once. Unless you just lay back and enjoy the attention. I think I'll stop now.

Angie read something on my face. She shook her head, "I tell you this to say that Eli was a very different person before we met. People change. People want different things in different relationships. Sometimes things they didn’t know they wanted. Eli was very different with me than those who came before me. You get to be different too."

Did not expect that. She had her butt on the window sill beside me. I leaned over and kissed her cheek, "Thank you."

She nodded with a smile, "You're welcome." Angie chuckled, "Eli's friends, especially the band, struggled with the changes. Then Boone met this cute little twink and discovered he was gay. Eli's changes were comparatively minuscule."

We were still laughing when Emma came into the room. I stopped laughing and mumbled, "Fuck."

Emma curtsied, "Thank you."

Emma's little black dress was... wow. The top looked like it had a built-in bra that lifted her breasts and showed an enticing amount of cleavage. Straps were far to the side, almost under her arms and straight over her shoulder. There was another pair of straps that connected at the corner of the dress and shoulder strap. They went diagonal across her chest and connected to a thicker collar around her neck. Triangles of bare skin showed off breasts and collar bones. It was the collar that would keep my attention for the skin in covered. Emma's favorite place to be kissed was hidden. What had taken them so long was her hair. Usually, she puts smooth curls into her naturally wavy hair. Tonight her hair was long and straight. It hung over one shoulder and was inches longer than when curled.

I stood from the window sill and stepped toward her while plotting where my hands went. I think one to her waist to feel the tight stretch of material over her body and the other is going for her hair. The material was thick and soft. It had the structure to hold everything in place. Up close I could see the black underwire on the bra and the soft swell of her breasts blooming over the top. I had plans for kissing there. I pulled up a strand of hair close to her temple and ran my fingers through to the end, well past her breasts. She wore more makeup than usual, still beautiful, but I didn’t want to mess her up. I pulled her bottom lip between mine and ran my tongue over. I kept her close as I pulled from her lips, "Beautiful doesn’t cover it, Emma."

M-am gandit la tine toata ziua, Sebasti-an.  <I've been thinking of you all day.>

“Mă voi gândi la tine toată noaptea. Fiind în interiorul tău, gustându-te.” <I'll be thinking of you all night. Being inside you, tasting you.>

From beside us I heard, "I don't know what he said, but from the tone it's dirty." Angie took Emma's hand from my shoulder and led her away. "You can translate later. I need to go say dirty things to my husband."

Ten minutes later we were at the Bowery Ballroom. Angie had texted Eli to meet us at the door. A guy wearing a "STAFF" t-shirt opened the door and asked if we knew where we were going. Angie and Emma nodded. I shrugged. I hadn't been here in years and had forgotten that once inside you went down a set of stairs to a low ceilinged bar. Past the bathrooms, you went upstairs to the main floor. A larger bar was at the opposite end from the stage. There were stairs on either side leading to the balcony. There were black cases opened on the floor in front of the stage. That’s when it hit me. This was her world, not mine.

I could feel the excitement rolling off Emma. She looked over to me, her smile wide, and I squeezed her hand. Eli jumped off the stage, kissing Angie before greeting us. The other band had taken longer to soundcheck and they were running behind.

Emma looked around, "Where is Keaton?" Eli pointed up. She added, "Mia here?"

"Not yet."

"We'll see you up there." Emma led me to a hallway to the right of the stage and up another set of stairs, talking as we walked. "Keaton opened for Pearl Jam many years ago and then the last tour. He and Mia had just gotten together the first time. Now they have two kids. They like to tell their story to new people. It's fun."

At the top of the stairs, I stopped, pulling her hand back to me. "I love how excited you are. You know this world, how it works." Her confidence going into a backstage area was evident. She knew what she was doing, where she was "I want to see you backstage at a Pearl Jam concert. I bet you’re treated like royalty."

She smiled, "Staff and the longtime fans are protective, you don't fuck with the Vedder women. Even on fan sites and social media friends and family are treated with respect. People are quick to be put in their place or kicked out. None of the guys put up with shit. Ed calls people out from stage. But I’m not anybody here"

I didn't believe that for a second. She is Eddie Vedder's daughter. I bet she's treated with respect here too, partly because if she’s not, the band will never open for PJ again. I was getting increasingly proud and excited being with her here. Excited for me to experience something I didn't know from the inside.

Top of the stairs was a security guard. First one I'd seen since we arrived. He was bigger than me, but not by much. Beefy Civil War Bucky could have taken him easy. This guy had a clipboard and a list.

"Name?"

I let her handle this. Her name, one of her options, held more weight than mine. Emma smiled, "Emiliana Vedder."

He looked up from his list, eyeing her slowly, "I'm a huge Pearl Jam fan. You need anything you find me. I’m Dylan."

“Thank you, Dylan."

Dylan pointed down the hall.

I laid my hand on her hip. Without her, I didn't belong here. Part of my brain was enjoying being second to her in this world. I wasn’t as thrilled when I was second in the acting world. That felt like competition. This feels like fun. No pressure or networking for me. Hollywood and music were built on knowing and improving your place in the food chain. I think she's at the top of this food chain. Not that it matters, but I can’t help thinking this way. When I walk into a party or event I am immediately checking for who I know and who I want to know.

Short hall to an open door, Emma called out as we got closer, "Hope you're decent."

A deep voice with a New York accent answered, "Have you ever known me to be decent?"

"Ok, just not naked?"

We went through the door and the owner of the voice came toward us. "Close enough."

The man was taller than me, had long skinny legs, and a strong upper body. He wasn't in a shirt, but he had enough chest chair to count as a sweater. He went straight for my girl, wrapping her into a tight hug. "It's been too long." He stepped back and looked her over more closely than I liked, "You are bloody fucking gorgeous. If I didn't have Mia I’d be taking you home with me tonight"

Emma laughed, "I think he might object." She nodded in my direct.

Keaton’s attention turned to me, "Lucky bastard." He held out a hand, "Keaton."

"Sebastian. Nice to meet you."

Keaton introduced the others in the band. Kevin spoke when done, "Can we call you Bucky?"

"Not if you want me to answer." My canned response sets a limit and gets a laugh. And they did laugh.

My thinking had been correct. Emma was the star of our couple tonight. They caught up and Emma filled them in on what Ed was doing before attention turned to me. The questions weren't about Marvel. They wanted to know about the weightless stuff in The Martian and making out with Margot Robbie. Stacy, Kevin's wife, wanted to talk about Once Upon a Time.

We talked over the soundcheck going on below only interrupted by the arrival of a pixie sized woman coming into the room. She looked over all of us, seemed to wink at Emma, then locked eyes with Keaton, "Hey, Rockstar."

Keaton stood to go to her, "Cheerleader." They met for a kiss that I could feel.

Emma pointed, "That's Mia." Everyone else went back to talking and out of the corner of my eye I could see the couple stop kissing to talk then start kissing again. No one paying attention told me this wasn't unusual. They didn’t break apart until Eli and company came through the door and only then because Kirk pushed Keaton away so he could hug Mia.

With the moment gone Keaton joined the rest of us, grabbing a backpack before he sat down. Mia followed less than a minute later, pulling Emma off the couch, "So excited when Keaton told me you were coming."

They hugged and Emma said, " We've got some catching up to do."

Mia looked at me, "Yes, we do."

I stood while Emma laughed, "Mia this is Sebastian."

"Nice to... oh" I was surprised when Mia pulled me into a hug, "meet you."

Mia stepped back, "Sorry, I'm a hugger."

"Me too." I smiled, "It’s nice to meet you."

A voice came from the doorway. The same man who had let us in, "Doors open."

Eli nodded, "Thanks, Bill."

Bill moved out of the way as a server with a large tray of shot glasses came into the room. Everyone took one and Eli asked him to close the door as he left. I was in the middle of a tradition and followed along. Eli held up his glass, "Good friends, good music, good times."

Keaton added, "And a night we'll never forget, except the parts we can't remember."

Everyone drank. Keaton pulled a joint out of the smaller bag he’d pulled from his backpack and lit up. I guess we'd be marking get high together off our couple's Bingo card. The joint got to Emma first and she inhaled deeply. I took a kiss as she handed it off to me. The smoke hit my lungs and it was like they remembered, opening up to pull in a memory. I'd hadn't had a cigarette in years, a heavy habit that had been hard to break. My pot usage varied. More social than solo and it had been awhile. Thinking back, I hadn't been high since we'd met. I closed my eyes and exhaled slowly with a smile, "Pot makes me horny."

I heard laughter and opened my eyes. They were laughing at Emma, whose arms were up like she was signaling a touchdown.

Eli was looking at me, "When are you not?"

I started to protest then pulled back, "Good point.” Emma was signaling another touchdown. I pulled her arms down. "Why are you acting like you never get laid?"

All four women shook their heads. Stacy had just handed off to Mia, "That’s celebrating the good sex to come."

I could already feel the mellowing out and my smile felt slow, "Ok, that's good, or it will be."

Emma put her arm over my shoulder and kissed my cheek, "Very good."

Mia pointed back and forth between us, "How long has this been going on?"

I went in with the answer, "A month on Monday."

Keaton, Kevin, and JP looked at each other with a low growl, "New couple sex is such a fun crapshoot. You gotta try everything at least twice."

Kirk snickered, "That’s two birthdays, Seb."

I flipped him off.

Keaton had a shit-eating grin on his face, "My Mia doesn't get horny. She gets touch hungry and I can play that to turn in to horny.”

Angie threw her hand out toward Emma, "Also gets touch hungry and a dirty mind. If she can stop laughing."

JP started laughing, "Oh yeah, remember Iowa?

Emma shook her head violently, "Nothing good happened in Iowa. Iowa was a disaster with bright moments."

I leaned in, "I wanna hear this. I'm envious of tour stories." They went quiet, "Who's going to start?'

Emma huffed out a breath, "Iowa was a festival in the front yard of a water company. It was muddy, hot, and in the middle of nowhere. Pearl Jam was the headliner. There were several other acts. Keaton, Neon Trees, Hanson, Adam Lambert. I wanted to meet Adam. Dad said not alone. I took Keaton."

Keaton picked up the story, "Adam is a fucking wall wrapped in leather and spikes. Imposing. I take her to his trailer, he's smoking, and we join. The conversation got filthy fast. They were making plans."

Emma took over, "They were imaginary threesome plans. Very detailed. Keaton was all in until he figured out this threesome had him as the center of attention, not me. Adam turned it on and Keaton thought leaving me with Adam was safer than him staying."

I laughed, "You bailed!"

“The plans had gotten too specific and he's big. You know what I mean." He shivered, "I went back and got stoned with Ed. That’s fucking nirvana every time. Who doesn’t dream of getting stoned with Pearl Jam."

I pouted, "I haven’t met him."

Emma sang, "Christmas."

Eli picked up, "You’re going to Hawaii?"

I nodded.

"Maybe don't tell him getting high makes you horny."

"Let's get stoned so I can fuck your daughter is a bad idea?" We were all laughing again. I was not going to do that.

Emma stood and went toward the refrigerator. I glared at Kirk and he followed her. He needed to apologize. Keaton went for his guitar, "He’s very protective."

The musicians started getting ready. Changing clothes, adding deodorant, and last trips to the bathroom. People shifted from sitting to standing and between pods of people. Emma and Kirk were still in the corner by the fridge. I joined Keaton and Kevin and heard more about Iowa. Emma was right, it was a disaster, but they had fun. Another joint went around and I noticed what a strange word Iowa was. It has too many vowels. Also realized[LW1]  I didn't know where it was, "Is that one of the square states?"

Since we were high things were funnier than they actually were. Like my question.

"You skip fourth grade?" Keaton snickered.

"I was in Austria in fourth grade."

"No shit!"

I laughed at his expression. "Romania, Austria, then here."

Keaton sighed, "I fucking loved Prague."

"That’s the Czech Republic.”

"Not Romania?" He shook his head slowly as he spoke.

"No."

"Are you sure?"

I pointed to myself and said emphatically, "Romanian."

"Well, fuck me. I thought it was Romania."

"Don't give me shit about not knowing Iowa."

We laughed so hard and so long we were holding onto each other with tears running down our cheeks.

Heaving for breath Keaton got out, "Squarish state attached to the Chicago state. At the bottom. West."

"Thank you."

We kept laughing until I felt hands on my waist slide around on my stomach. I knew it was Emma, but since I was stoned, I glanced at the hands just to be sure. What was coming would be bad if it wasn't her. Emma's touch hunger and my horniness were an incendiary combination.

I raised one arm to turn in that direction. Emma loosened her hold enough to allow me to face her. I put my hands on her face diving straight into a kiss. Our tongues met and her fingers dug into my back. She tasted of weed and tequila. I couldn't get enough of all three.

I heard Keaton's voice behind me, "Time to go, Seb."

I peeled myself away from my girl and took her hand. Since this wasn't a true opener and main act sort of thing the non-performing group would be upstairs with the rest of us. As we filed out of the room, we passed by Kirk who was holding a small bowl of gummy bears. The edible would kick in as the joint was fading and see us through the night.

[mistaeq]

Hello, may I plz have a matchup (part 1-3 plz?)? I'm female, straight, pear-shaped body. I'm a very energetic, goofy person who always wants to have fun! I'm pretty hyper, so it can be difficult to follow my train of thought. I get bored pretty easily and absolutely love attention. I'm very affectionate and dirty-minded and love to feel sexy. I'm quite sensitive and emotional, though, I can easily be upset or angered. I'm fairly impatient and impulsive. I love writing, hiking and knitting! Thx!❤

Matchup

TW // none

Thank you for your request, dear! Based on the infos you sent in, you sound like a funny and interesting person to be friends with! Don't ever change <3 enjoy

Battle Tendency and Stardust Crusaders Matchup

WORD COUNT: 0.9k

My first matchup choice for you is...

Joseph Joestar!

Joseph's favourite thing is holding you in his arms bridal style or letting you hold onto him as if you were a koala. He's so strong he enjoys holding you with no efforts, as if you were a feather!

It's a good thing that you're energetic, because with Joseph there's no time to be lazy!

He'll always be training to improve his hamon skills, and he'll ask you many times to come and see him, so he can show you off many awesome things his hamon can do.

Don't worry about the fact that you're goofy, it means you'll just be goofy together. Joseph is smart, after all, he just needs to pay a little more attention to what's around him and to what he says.

Joseph brags a lot about his power, probably it is to tease Caesar, but the scenario is just so funny you'll surely have a lot of fun. Joseph himself has a great sense of humor.

You and him often share the same idea without even talking about it to each other, he's almost the only person who's able to follow your train of thought.

You always jokingly blame each other of reading into each other's minds.

Joseph gives you lots of attention, and will never let you even think of being bored. He's really clingy as a boyfriend, he would probably love hugging you from behind and resting his head on your shoulder.

He will make you feel sexy, for real. He's probably as dirty minded as you, and every time you ask him if your clothing suits you good, he'll probably watch your curves first. But he's an actual goofball, that's not the only thing he's gonna look at, you're beautiful in your entirety for him.

Joseph loves pulling pranks on people. But since you told him you are a sensitive girl and that you might get angry easily, he's respected this and doesn't pull any type of prank on you unless he's sure you won't feel bad for it.

The only thing he'd like to see on your face is a big smile, and would never forgive himself if he made you feel bad, even unintentionally. He's impulsive too, and hopes you'll understand him if he messes up something.

He'd totally appreciate go hiking with you. He'll get a little chance to spend some free time with you in a quiet place and train his legs.

He's never been into knitting, but seeing you do it softens him so much he'll sometimes sit next to you to cuddle with you or kiss you.

He feels at home when you're around.

My second matchup choice for you is...

Hol Horse!

Hope you're okay with my choice, even if he's an antagonist. He deserves better, he's a goofball.

You're the only girl he chose to have a serious relationship with. He feels like you understand what he needs much more than other people. For once, he felt something more than just physical attraction.

The first thing Hol Horse noticed of you were your beautiful curves and thighs. He's always Hol Horse. But as soon as he started dating you, he started to understand that he wanted something more serious than usual.

He admires your energy and your goof. You're able to be so incredibly strong and clumsy at the same time, and that makes him laugh. Not to mock you, though. It's a genuine and loving laugh.

His brain is way slower than yours, but as soon as you explain him what you have in mind, he'll be as excited as you to try your idea.

If you're okay with it, he would enjoy riding his horse with you, and even better, if you're not used to it, he'll have a good excuse to stay next to you and teach you.

Don't worry about attention: with Hol Horse you'll have even more of it than you expected. He's a jealous man - not at an obsessive point, obviously -, so he'll always make sure he knows you're okay and that nobody is harassing you.

Hol Horse doesn't like attacking an enemy on his own and he usually works with another stand user by his side, but if it's you who we're talking about, he'll even attack ten enemies at once with no doubts.

He loves your affection for him, if he was kinda acting with other girls, he behaves as his real self with you, and knowing someone loves him for who he is, is kinda incredible for him.

He'll always gonna make you feel sexy, usually by whispering comments about you in your ear, having fun when he sees you blush so much for him in public. But it's worth it, you like it, deep down.

Hol Horse is the type of man who would split himself in four to make sure nobody annoys you, not even himself. If something he does makes you uncomfortable, just tell him, he'll fix it almost immediately. For real.

He's probably an hopeless romantic, deep down. If you get upset or too emotional about something, expect a bunch of flowers from him, or something classical to make you smile.

If you feel like it, Hol Horse would enjoy hearing you reading what you write, he likes the sound of your voice.

[elyvorg]

Later Alligator

Later Alligator is a visual novel indie game with extremely charming character design and animation set in a world of anthropomorphic alligators. It’s primarily goofy and humorous, which isn’t precisely the kind of game I’d have sought out on my own, but it is the kind of game I’ll happily sit through and enjoy if a Let’s Play channel I already follow happens to do a playthrough of it, so that’s a thing that I did. Upon said playthrough recently finishing, I found myself having some Thoughts about the story, particularly the true ending, to the point that I figured I might as well get them out somewhere.

The game begins as your player character arrives in Alligator New York City one morning, where in a hotel lobby you find another alligator named Pat. He seems very nervous and hesitant to talk to you at first, until he suddenly gives in and starts spilling his soul to you because you have a trustworthy face. (A face that you can’t actually see yourself because the game is in first person.) It seems like Pat does this spilling-his-soul-to-strangers thing a lot, because he thinks he accidentally let slip some kind of secret to someone at some point and now his family is going to rub him out in what they’re calling an “event” this evening, which is why he’s so nervous. Looks like this impulsive dork was unfortunate enough to be born into a gangster family that he really doesn’t belong in? Since he trusts you, though, Pat asks you to go and talk to his family to find out more details about the “event” and maybe convince them to not actually murder him.

You apparently don’t have anything else to be doing that day, so you proceed to go around the city talking to the many members of Pat’s very large family, helping them with their various problems in minigame form so that they’ll maybe spill a few details about this super-secret “event” involving Pat tonight. As you do, it very quickly becomes clear that, A, Pat’s family really doesn’t seem very gangster-ish at all, and B, this “event” sounds more like some kind of surprise party. And, oh yeah, Pat offhandedly mentioned it was his birthday today in your first conversation with him. His family’s almost certainly just throwing him a surprise birthday party, but Pat somehow got the wrong end of the stick with their vague hints and got convinced they were going to assassinate him instead. Silly Pat.

But the more of Pat’s family you meet, the more it becomes overwhelmingly apparent that not only are his family not remotely gangsters, but… they all really love him? Sure, everyone in his family is weird and quirky and eccentric in one way or another – it’s that kind of game – but they’re all generally nice people and think Pat is a great guy who’s fun to hang out with (well, there’s a few bad eggs, but they’re just self-absorbed and don’t have any malice towards Pat). How could Pat ever actually have thought any of these people would want to hurt him?

You meet up with Pat a few times throughout the day, as he keeps wanting to have his new friend help reassure him through his nerves about the whole totally-getting-super-murdered-today thing. In one of these meetings, your character implicitly tells him “this event really just sounds like a surprise party”, and Pat insists, “no, that’s just what they want you to think, they’re definitely trying to kill me, keep investigating!” It starts to become clear that Pat’s not just acting nervous today in particular because he thinks he’s going to be killed – he’s always nervous and anxious and paranoid, and that’s why his brain’s convinced him with absolutely zero proof that his family, who clearly think the world of him, are out to get him. Poor guy!

But at least Pat has you, this kind stranger who decided to take on his problems and with whom he can feel a little bit safer and find it a little easier to believe things might be okay. In the evening, you lead him to the room where the “event” is taking place to help ease his fears, and he’s adorably delighted when he sees that it really is a birthday party all for him and no-one is trying to kill him even a little bit dead. A couple of his family members mention that he pretty much freaks out like this every year (suggestion, guys: maybe you should stop making it a surprise and just outright tell him he’s getting a party to help him be less paranoid about it). But this year Pat’s freakout wasn’t quite as bad as usual, thanks to you being there to help and reassure him. Aww.

Pat invites you to join in the photo with all of the people who made it to the party (for some reason, only the family members whose minigames you’ve completed will be there, which I guess is to give you incentive to replay in order meet them all and see the full photo). This comes with the neat twist of having a character-creation feature at the end of the game, as you get to decide on your own alligator features at last just before being in the photo. So rather than just picking what best represents your actual self in alligator form, you’ll probably be picking whatever features you think fit the kind of person you seem to have been playing as in the game, based on the comments of everyone you’ve talked to, especially Pat.

And you taking part in the family photo as Pat’s newest friend implies he considers you one of his family now too (after all, a couple of the people you met weren’t actually related to him but were still invited to the party just out of being a friend of his). It is all in all a very wholesome and lovely game about helping this guy through his anxieties, and his big eccentric family that loves him anyway, now including you. Pat is a precious adorable goof who deserves the best birthday party and as much support with his anxiety and paranoia as his family and friends can give him.

Then, if you’ve met every single family member, there’s a true ending. The “event” really being a birthday party barely counts as a plot twist because it’s so obvious, but the true ending is an actual legitimate surprise, so this is your last chance to stop reading if this has made you want to play the game for yourself.

…

Turns out, someone really was out to kill Pat that day, and that someone was you. You are actually an assassin that, through some comedic coincidences and misunderstandings, Pat accidentally hired to kill himself on his birthday.

That’s why you came to this town today. That’s perhaps even why you decided to spend your day talking to Pat’s family and getting information about the “event”; you probably assumed one of them was the one who hired you to kill him and were trying to find out who it was. The whole time Pat was relying on you to stop his family from totally-super-murdering him, and wanting your company to help ease his nerves about it, you were quietly planning on killing him yourself and he never had a clue. Apparently you were so good at hiding your intentions and appearing trustworthy to Pat, to the point that he impulsively spilled his soul to you at the beginning and continued to trust you throughout – but he never should have believed in you at all.

At the end of the party, you approach Pat alone on a balcony, and as he turns to greet you with a big smile, you push him over the railing… only to have an extremely sudden change of heart and catch him as he falls.

…So, obviously I am very on board with the concept of your assassin-gator protagonist (for whom I’m now going to switch to third-person pronouns because it turns out they’re their own character and not just an extension of the player) not actually wanting to kill Pat any more. But I don’t think the way this moment plays out quite works to properly sell their change of heart, not when it only happens all of a sudden once they’ve already pushed him to his death. If they had grown to feel unwilling to kill Pat, that’s something that would have gradually happened over the course of the day as they spent time with him and his family. Given that, if by this point they didn’t truly want to kill him deep down, I don’t think it works that the protagonist could even have brought themselves to carry out the act and push Pat off the balcony in the first place (especially not when he’s looking at them with a huge excited “hey it’s my new friend!!!” smile). I can see them approaching him, intending to do it, telling themselves they’ve just got to finish the job they came to do, but not actually being able to go through with it and physically take an action that should have ended his life.

This moment could have happened differently to sell it better. Imagine if, instead of going to push Pat off the balcony, the protagonist pulls out their knife (the knife that had always been vaguely visible inside the briefcase menu screen, and that they’d pulled out of nowhere in one of the minigames for what seemed like the kind of non-sequitur gag that this game is full of but was actually foreshadowing!)… but then they hesitate, staring at the knife, their hand perhaps beginning to shake. Then Pat turns around to greet them and freaks out so spectacularly over seeing them looming ominously over him with a knife that he falls backwards off the balcony – and the protagonist unthinkingly throws their knife aside and rushes to catch him. That way, they’re still saving Pat from themselves to seal the change of heart, but they didn’t deliberately begin to kill him before that and make the change of heart seem inappropriately sudden.

So, well, I’m basically trying to pretend that that’s how that scene actually played out, because I am otherwise finding myself rather invested (totally not for any reason that some of the people who follow me will be aware of) in this implicit story of an assassin who gradually realises that they really don’t want to kill their target at all. Based their office that we see, the protagonist very much appears to be what I like to call a “responsibly-sourced assassin” who willingly chose that profession for themselves, which you’d think would mean they were truly unfeeling and heartless and had no qualms about doing murders for a living. But clearly they do have a heart of gold somewhere in there.

This is probably me totally overthinking this largely-comedic game at this point, but: because of this, I headcanon that the protagonist got wrapped up in some really bad stuff in their past that led to them thinking they were a horrible person who was only good at murdering people and deciding they might as well give up on trying to be better and just do that for a living. They’re also evidently very good at appearing like a decent and trustworthy person on the surface, but they’d tell themselves that’s just deception so that they can more easily gather information for a hit, and definitely not because somewhere deep down they actually are capable of being a good person if they tried.

It’s also fun to think in a bit more detail about exactly how the protagonist had a change of heart. One could imagine it’s just down to Pat and his family being such lovable goofs, but on the other hand that’s the kind of thing that a professional killer would have trained themselves to block out and not let themselves be affected by, so I don’t think that alone would be enough. Maybe instead it’s got more to do with the sheer irony of the fact that Pat is genuinely paranoid that his family, who are lovely and would never hurt him and clearly deserve his trust, are out to kill him – and yet at the same time he’s blindly trusting this complete stranger who actually literally is plotting to kill him. Perhaps it weighs on the protagonist’s mind more and more over the course of the day that they don’t deserve Pat’s belief in them, especially not when he finds it so hard to even believe in the people who actually love him, to the point that the protagonist starts to wish that they were someone that Pat could believe in, that if only he could be right to do so after all.

There’s also the fact that this true ending – complete with an achievement called “Save Pat” – is something you only get when you’ve met every single member of Pat’s family. Which kind of implies that… if you don’t, the protagonist actually does kill Pat and doesn’t catch him at the last second? If so, the difference is probably less down to the last few family members having influenced the protagonist’s change of heart that significantly in and of themselves, and more down to the idea I mentioned earlier that maybe the protagonist was mostly talking to them all to try and figure out which one hired them to kill Pat. As long as they haven’t met absolutely everyone, there’s always the possibility that one of the remaining people they missed is the person who wanted Pat dead. So maybe with that in mind, the protagonist can continue to tell themselves that they’re just doing their job and carrying out their client’s wishes, and really Pat’s death is not on their hands and is just the fault of the person who hired them and wanted him dead. But if they’ve met the entire family, then there’s absolutely no denying that nobody wants Pat dead at all. With that, the protagonist can no longer hide from the fact that the only actual bad person with murderous intent here this whole time has been themselves – and maybe that’s what causes them to realise that they don’t want to be that person any more.

Pat reflects in the true ending, after the protagonist has not-killed him and he’s invited them to his house the next morning, that they essentially saved him from himself. He almost seems to think his own paranoia and conviction that people were out to kill him is to blame for accidentally hiring someone to actually do it. This is apparently why he seems so weirdly not-traumatised about the part where the only person he did trust was the one who actually was plotting to kill him for most of the day. You’d think that would’ve made him feel like his paranoia is justified and therefore make him more paranoid, if anything, no matter how sure he is that the protagonist doesn’t want to kill him any more. Instead, though, Pat frames it as “the only one out to get me was me��, not putting any of the blame on the protagonist for hiding their true intentions from him all day and being the one to almost act on that supposed self-destructiveness of his.

But… if Pat really does think his own paranoia is to blame for this, he’s wrong. The exact amusingly ludicrous coincidence that caused this was Pat sneezing jam onto an ad in the paper for the protagonist’s services (you know, that place where assassins usually advertise) that happened to cover just the right words and letters to change the meaning of the message from “I can kill whoever you need, just give me a description of them” to “I am ill and need help, please give me a description of yourself”. Pat saw this and immediately went “oh no I have to help them!!!” and called them to describe himself in third-person, including mentioning his upcoming birthday, because they said that would help them somehow!  So the only thing to blame for this other than a ridiculous coincidence was… well, partly Pat’s tendency to jump to conclusions and act without questioning things, but also his instinctive kindness towards anyone and everyone, even complete strangers. Not his paranoia!

So, I propose a different overall point of this story. It wasn’t the protagonist saving Pat from himself and his own paranoia; rather, it was the opposite. Through the sheer luck of the coincidence that caused him to make that phone call, his tendency to sometimes jump to overly-trusting conclusions instead of overly-paranoid ones, and his and his family’s general goodness, Pat saved the protagonist from themselves. He led them to realise that they could be better than they thought they were and didn’t have to or want to kill people for a living any more.

It’s not mentioned at all in the ending, but I firmly headcanon that the protagonist quits the murder business altogether from that day onwards and becomes just another member of Pat’s family: that one who incidentally used to be an assassin but changed their mind about it thanks to a combination of some unlikely coincidences and Pat just being a good guy. That’s exactly the right flavour of silly eccentricity that’d make them fit in perfectly with the rest of those goofs.

[in-tua-deep]

I don't really have anywhere I'm going with this idea but sometimes I wonder how affected by being 13 again Five really is. As much as he complains about being older & remembers his life, he still jumped himself back to a teen body and like?? how do brains work? his mind wouldn't be fully developed anymore so how much of his rudeness/recklessness/impatience/irritability is just down to him being a teen in a very stressful situation lol

okay i will be honest i am not a huge fan of neuropsych even though the class was really interesting!! Mainly because the brain is a big and very complicated organ that has a lot of parts that my own loser brain can’t keep straight whoops 

but you are very correct in that the brain of a teen is very different from an adult brain!! I actually remember watching a whole video in class about that specifically where it was a teen vs. an adult reacting to embarrassment where they were stared at by strangers

Five jumping back is a fascinating subject on how it affected him because theoretically he jumped back into his 13-year-old body right? BUT he still had the tracker implanted in his arm which implies that it didn’t just reset him, or at least not for physical items? Would a tattoo have stayed, considering the ink could be considered a foreign object? Does that mean Klaus would get to keep his tattoos even if he turned back to 13 when they jumped backwards? Is there anything else the Commission did to him that stuck around? 

I mean Five was an old man who was affected by starvation and malnutrition as well as having to deal with contaminated air, unclean water, vitamin deficiencies, general exposure to the elements, not to mention the extreme isolation and effects that would have on him mentally all of these lasting for almost four decades so you can’t tell me that the Commission didn’t have to do some serious medical catch up and I would absolutely not be shocked if a tracker wasn’t the only thing they did in that time tbh

honestly I think that the only reason his arm wasn’t goofed up was because his adult self was stunted enough from malnutrition that Five’s arm didn’t have a whole lot of shrinking to do around the capsule or move it too much?? I mean it’s not like Five’s suit was exactly hanging off of him, adult Five wasn’t too much bigger than teen Five (which was probably a good thing, no real issues in reach or equilibrium to throw him off in a fight)

where were we again

AH YES THE BRAIN

well yes absolutely teen Five is probably a whole lot more emotionally compromised than your regularly scheduled Five and not just because he’s under extreme stress - which he very much is!! But yeah - teens tend to think with more emotion than reason because the prefrontal cortex isn’t fully developed yet (though everyone’s brain develops at a different pace and there’s no concrete number for when things settle, though there are averages of when a brain is at its peak for certain tasks)

(apparently you’re best at remembering unfamiliar names when you’re 22,, i hope in three days on my bday i suddenly become good at it because i’m garbage at names right now oof)

on the bright side Five probably regained some serious grey matter in his little expedition because 12 is when you peak at grey matter volume so if Five wants to learn new skills before the unused stuff is pruned away he’s at a good age for it

honestly one of the most tragic parts of Five going to the apocalypse when he did is that he was at the fun delicate age where peer interaction becomes really important to social development. and right at that age where people are really important, he managed to fling himself into a period where everyone was dead. I’m not surprised he had Dolores - i’m more surprised he didn’t have more mannequin friends tbh

of course, teens are also known for increased risk taking so his jump to the future is a tiny bit explained by that, i have no doubt that the kids who weren’t terrified of their powers did more than a little bit of experimenting themselves like you can’t tell me that Luther didn’t try lift way more than he could handle and we literally see Klaus setting fires and the kids were already doing risky things a la sneaking out and getting donuts at Griddy’s under their dad’s nose

think about it!! it’s possible that Five is going to go through proper growth spurts he never did the first time around due to lack of nutrition! he might get tall!! i mean if him and luther are actually twins then it’s possible five is going to shoot up in height which he is not going to be used to just a gangly teen stumbling over his new extra height like a colt (while also murdering the rest of the family for teasing him about this)

Five is thirteen again what a wild age, and an important age

he’s almost in high school i mean damn do y’all remember what high school kids can be like?? you people still in high school look at your peers and tell me a lot of them aren’t little shits but like,, it’s important because your peers are important!! in fact, after a certain age your peers become more important to your development than your family - which is why you’ll get plenty of kids whose idea of morals and politics are very different from their parents!

okay i have rambled a whole lot but yes

Five has a lot of growing up to do!! but also jumping back, even with the added impulsiveness, lack of emotional control, etc. would also fix lots of issues Five probably had - aches and pains and damage from badly set bones and dental issues from lack of hygiene and any and all problems from his malnutrition etc. etc. 

so he does have some things to be vaguely thankful for even if being stuffed into a body that no longer belongs to you is still really sucky because despite everything five earned those aches and pains and scars and there’s a certain level of pride in surviving and having those reminders that he did survive 

and all of that was gone in the blink of an eye, erased as if it never happened - and it did happen

i’m sure Five’s siblings would love for him to pretend it never happened and sweep it under the rug and start acting ‘normal’ again but it happened! it happened and five was messed up from it! except it didn’t happen in this timeline and it’s just,, it must be really hard to be him i don’t know

:(

[soundrooms]

Soundrs: DJ CYBERDAD

My name is John Verchot, I’ve released music under several names: J-chot as well as DJ CYBERDAD. Locally, I’m usually just billed as DJ Verchot. I feel like the first thing I should tell you about myself is that I have severe ADHD, which seems to be the single most consistent force guiding my art and existence. I often get distracted and always get ahead of myself when I try to explain things. DJ CYBERDAD started out as a funny pseudonym to release more profane songs that I didn’t want my son to hear, but changed into an outlet for my smoother dance jams as well as more introspective music. 

What are your inspiration sources?

It varies from project to project. Often times with tracks, the inspiration to work on them comes in two or three different phases. Inspiration to create sounds is one thing, as inspiration to finish and structure tracks, create moods/themes, or even package them into a finished project, all feel like different driving forces/processes that need to happen in order for me to get anything done. However, whichever one of those forces I am able to utilize when I sit down at my laptop often seems to be beyond my control.

Most times I’ll hear a sound, loop or phrase, I’ll start to wonder what I can do with it, or how I can change and manipulate it. It might be the timbre of an old instructional video’s narrator, or an odd metallic sound I’ve managed to coax out of some equipment. Occasionally I’ll think of a concept, either of overall sound or thematic content and before I know it, I’ve got half a track planned out in my head. Many times I’ll hear other tracks or songs, and want to use just one part/concept/sound or re-do the whole track differently. With “Emotional in Destin”, I was trying to convey moods or feelings I felt during an unexpected trip to Florida in the middle of a crushing depression. It sounds bizarre, but I've never channeled personal experiences into my music before.

Overall what inspires me to create different sounds is the novelty of technology and bits and other people’s music.

What makes me want to sit down and make music is personal or professional success.

What inspires me to finish tracks and projects is the distant white noise of overwhelming anxiety and dread setting in as the ennui of the imminent collapse of western society fades giving way to the dark, almost imperceivable thrumming of the void drawing nearer, and is definitely getting louder. Your “time” is almost up John. Did you even do anything, or are you too skiddish and feeble of heart and head to make any clear decisions, impulsively flitting from one animal urge to another bad habit, clogging the chemical receptors of your brain for simple stupid pleasure. It’s night now and your eyes and fingers grow weary…

What was the question again? 

Tell us something about your workflow.

Most times, it starts with just noodling around. Sometimes, it’s with synths and sequencers, either recording sounds or looping notes and tweaking/loading patches (virtual or real synths), sometimes I’m browsing potential sample material, but what happens next is the same regardless of how I’m making sounds or what I’m doing:

…I think hear something.

…And I STOP noodling. Basically, I either hear something I like, or I hit a riff or whatever and it’s like a tiny, tiny light bulb that blinks barely. Occasionally it’s like a hundred watt, and other ideas quickly fall into place. Most times, it’s a process of trial and error, but I’m making sure to document or isolate the little pieces that click and then attempt to refine or improve on those ideas. Ideas can quickly diverge, multiple sets with different names get saved, and I often jump around and get lost. I use color coding on clips and pieces in Ableton to help me sort those ideas. Some ideas form by running one sequence I’ve had already through a whole different synth/patch.

Very rarely, I’ll get a concrete idea while I’m driving, maybe I’ll make some notes on my phone (text to speech notes, voice recording).

When I get a spark that makes me imagine a full concept (“Charles Nelson Riley”, or that “My P**sy tastes like Pepsi Cola” remix for example), the track is formed VERY quickly (four to eight hours working time) and I finish the mix, structure, everything. This is rare, but these tracks are almost always my better material.

The next step is always the same: Let the track “cool-off”. Leave it alone. Do something else for a few days, or weeks… or in some cases, years… Then I’ll fuck around with it even more, or move on to:

STRUCTURE & MIXING: 

I look for/experiment with arrangements that compliment my DJ style, or allow someone to do a rough edit if they want, (breakdowns at the end), or I’ll load a track that I like to DJ that’s similar enough and I will STRAIGHT UP copy the song structure in terms of intro, (drums or keys?) repeating bits, breakdowns, outros… Most times I fuck with it until it sounds okay, which is kinda bad because I end up drastically overscrutinizing it.

When it comes to mixing, something that I should do more often but don’t is load a reference track (someone else’s track) and try to get my mix to sound like theirs… This technique REALLY helps stop “nasty surprises” when you listen to it on a big system, or in the car.

Most of the time, I’ve been tweaking the mix the entire time I’ve been working on the project. 

TL;DR

The “Emotional in Destin” EP is almost entirely soft synths, but lately my flow is:

1. dick around on hardware

2. “oh that sounds good, let me make another sound to go with it” (see step 1)

3. record a few pieces to an Ableton project.

4. “I don't know what to do now.” …maybe mixing or structure…

…almost ALL THE TIME, however I jump around and do everything very non-linearly. Hardware helps me not spend so much time tweaking patches or EQ-ing a snare drum for an hour. Texture is SUPER important to me, so I’ll often get hung up on EQ and compression before I even start on structure or mixing. 

How would creative rituals benefit your workflow?

The hardest part for me is ALWAYS ALWAYS ALWAYS getting started, or shifting gears from other activities (resting after work, reading tumblr, goofing off…) and going to sit down at my desk and start music stuff. I’m certain it’s an executive dysfunction thing. The less I think about doing it before I do it, the better.

Animal sacrifice SIGNIFICANTLY speeds things up. Try not to get blood on the gear/laptop, and make sure never to clean, but regularly sharpen the ceremonial dagger (VERY important). 

How do you get in the zone?

I don’t really try…

As soon as I start to approach a task as “a thing” I get nervous and anxious. If I go “okay, I’ve got this task to complete…” my subconscious hijacks my higher functions to make me look at memes or tumblr for three hours instead of do what I “should” or “want”… The problem with me in the past has been how do I get OUT of the zone? 

How do you start a track? 

Oh jeez, I really jumped the shark with that question earlier, didn’t I? A technique I’ll sometimes employ is load up an old track, keep the drum sounds/patches but delete all the data, and make an entirely different genre of track… or one that's very similar… That’s kind of a fun exercise if nothing else. Also it often winds up getting tweaked and adjusted to hell and back. 

Do you have a special template? 

Nope. I make TONS of drum, EQ, and effects presets though. And they all have terrible names like “gooddrums”, “$GOODrums” and such.

Even though I’ve started with carbon copies, they ALWAYS end up sounding completely different by the time I’m finished with the track, because I can’t leave em well enough alone. 

What do you put on the master channel? 

Sometimes EQ, but always a phat ass compressor (limiting). I’ve been thinking about investing in a nice non-free one lately, but for some reason I am not comfortable with purchasing software plugins… I also have learned recently, that I’ve been using compression on the individual tracks way too much… which makes final-mixing a pain in the ass. 

How do you arrange and finish a track? 

DAMN IT. I really did go too hard with the first couple questions. The “finishing” of a track for me (arrangement, mixing) is usually done much later than the rest of the process. I try not to force stuff, but lately I’m realizing more and more that I need to not do this as much.

I can’t stress enough how using a reference track for structure or mixing can very often break up stagnation on a project. 

How do you deal with unfinished projects?

Several ways. The first step is to judge an old file and see if it's worth finishing. If there is ANYTHING of creative/sonic merit, I put it in a folder with the other “sketches and ideas” (project graveyard). Otherwise, I have been trying to delete the “junk” projects… this can make it easier to focus. Another thing I often do is to make presets/patches/Ableton instruments from the parts I like, then drop it in a folder called “meh”. Or I drop them into several categorical folders, i.e.: “uncircumcised electro bangers”, “abrasive techno”. 

How do you store and organize your projects?

Aw jeez. Oh gosh-oh darn. (See above answer.) 

How do you take care of studio ergonomics? 

Trial and error, trial and error, trial and error. This year alone my studio has been restructured and moved about my downstairs room at least five times. I’ve finally settled on something that feels very useful and productive. I am also this way with my work station at my job. CHANGE IT UNTIL IT WORKS GREAT. This can also help with creative stagnation, or can trigger it, so be careful. I keep my “electronics laboratory” close at hand so that more of that tinkering can find it’s way into my music… no such luck, YET.

I’ve currently decorated my space with all the crap I’ve saved up over the years, that for some reason, I’ve looked at this and thought: “This makes me happy” …SUUURE, my studio now looks like a fourteen year old decorated it, but I gotta say, I feel pretty phenomenal. Soon I’m gonna try to put this “stars and space” wall paper on my ceiling… I’ll update with a photo when that’s done.

Also I would like to say:

Minimalist spaces and studios are bullshit, y’all look like sick baby birds in empty shoe-boxes.

I mean, NOBODY LIVES THAT WAY, right? Maybe some boring rich people do, but damn… I mean, I try to clean and stay organized… and it helps, but I also try not to get to hung up on it. 

Tell us something about your daily routine, how is your day structured, how do you make room for creativity?

**LOUD SUCKING SOUND THROUGH TEETH** I don't… at least, not very well at all… but I’m working on that.

I am not the person you should ask this question, because THIS RIGHT HERE is the BANE of my existence… 

Share a quick producing tip.

MAN, I’ve already dropped like… seven, but okay, here goes:

BY ANY MEANS NECESSARY, FINISH THE TRACK. For me, this means ghetto-rigging, DIY, using the same goddamn audio interface from 2002 for f****ng fifteen YEARS… (recently fixed) don’t get hung up on “proper” ways, or ways that are outside your current means. Also, get a set of decent monitors… or use several pairs of headphones/speakers to double check mixes.

Recently, I’ve had less time, but a little bit of money, which is the opposite of how I’ve ALWAYS operated… it’s been difficult to unlearn “time consuming but cheap”. Also difficult not to impulse buy synths. 

Making music with just a mouse and keyboard may be the least sexy thing ever… it works tho… cheap MIDI controllers CAN work faster however. 

Share a link to an interesting website (doesn’t have to be music related).

My son just showed me this ➜ https://dddance.party/ and I have to say, this is an outstanding achievement of mankind. 

List ten sounds you are hearing right this moment : ) 

Traffic outside my window, gentle hum of laptop cooling fan, dog snoring, fingers typing, birds chirping… that’s it.

John has a lo-fi house EP out on UltraBold Records as DJ CYBERDAD. It’s called ‘Emotional in Destin’. Stream it ➜ here, audio cassettes are available ➜ here.

Thanks John! If you want to get featured next, send a message here on tumblr or email soundrooms@icloud.com.

[hevoiced]

richie’s mental health: an analysis by charles.

alright folks, listen up. i’ve been talking to @zombcy about this since @punchesback posted a damn good headcanon about joyce’s mental health, and i’ve come to realize that richie is, arguably, one of the most stable losers, if not the most stable. the rest is going below the cut here because this post has gotten... long.

it’s pretty easy to say the boy has adhd. there are, from my research, two main symptoms to adhd: inattention and hyperactivity/impulsiveness. now, for someone to have adhd, they don’t have to have both of these symptoms, and i don’t think that richie does. he doesn’t seem to have the inattentiveness--- in fact, he’s very observant and is described as knowing bill better than anyone else until bill’s wife audra. he’s also a straight a student, and children who struggle with inattentiveness tend to struggle in school.

he does, however, display a lot of the symptoms of hyperactivity, such as being unable to sit still, talking almost non stop, having difficulty waiting his turn, interrupting/talking over others, climbing/fidgeting, etc. 

       as a kid he had been a goof-off, a sometimes vulgar, sometimes amusing comedian, because it was the one way to get along without getting killed by kids like henry bowers or going absolutely loony-tunes with boredom and loneliness. he realized now that a lot of the problem had been his own mind, which was usually moving at a speed ten or twenty times that of his classmates. they had thought him strange, weird, or even suicidal, depending on the escapade in question, but maybe it had been a simple case of mental overdrive--- if anything about being in constant mental overdrive was simple.         anyway, it was the sort of thing you got under control after a while--- you got it under control or you found outlets for it, guys like kinky briefcase or buford kissdrivel, for instance.

       richie, i would venture to say, is pretty mentally sound as an adult despite all the shit he’s gone through as a child. i’d even make a leap to say that he doesn’t even really have ptsd, whereas i think all of the rest of the losers do display symptoms of it.

       when richie is confronted with his past, there’s not really so much of a shock factor the way the other losers have. they all have hard times coming to terms with it, really, but richie just tells his manager that he made a promise as a kid, he has to go, and he goes. even when he’s face to face with pennywise in a form that he’d seen him in as a child, he experiences fear but he doesn’t let it shake him to his core. he doesn’t freeze up the way a lot of the other losers do as adults.

       the clown looked down at him. Its eyes rolled wetly in their sockets.        “did i give you a scare, m’man?”        and richie heard his mouth say, quite independently of his frozen brain: “cheap thrills in the back of my car, bozo. that’s all.”        the clown grinned and nodded as if it had expected no more. red paint-bleeding lips parted to show teeth like fangs, each one coming to a razor point. “i could have you now if i wanted you now,” it said. “but this is going to be too much fun.”        “fun for me too,” richie heard his mouth say. “the most fun of all when we come to take your fucking head off, baby.”

       he forgets the events of his childhood, but they all do. it’s not a repression of traumatic events in the way you might see with someone with ptsd--- it’s an effect because of It, because they’ve left derry, and that’s all. when he remembers, he doesn’t drink the way ben does, he doesn’t panic. he just does what he has to do. the miniseries definitely portrays him in a way that seems more like he’s got ptsd to me, as he seems particularly shaken up when he sees It again, but i think the miniseries also gave him ben’s scene in the library.

       all this is a lot of babbling to say that richie’s a really surprisingly mentally sound character, all things considered, and i didn’t really expect that when i started looking into this. thanks for coming to my ted talk lmao.

[skybournerp]

Congratulations Cait, and welcome to Skybourne University! You’ve been accepted as your original character Dami Shah. We loved reading about how Dami came in to her powers. Be sure to set up your main account within 24 hours and sent it to us with the ask box open so we can send you a link to the OOC blog. Also be sure to do everything on the new member checklist.

OOC INFORMATION

nickname: Cait

time zone: EST

age: 25

pronouns: She/Her

contact: removed

password: removed

how did you find us?: Divine Intervention

do you have any triggers that need tagged?: removed

Sample Para

Dami sat in front of her computer screen. It was not the most exciting of circumstances in which she’d found herself. Some small and unacknowledged part of her felt thankful that she’d managed to land herself in such a simple place on such an empty day, but the rest of her was as bored as the two hands that hovered over untapped keys in front of a tauntingly blank word document. After what felt like a lifetime of nothing, Dami closed her laptop and stood from her place. There was far too much snow outside for her to spend the day inside making zero progress on the project that wasn’t even due until January. Sure, she was pages behind on her schedule, but she’d make it up at some point.

Grabbing her thickest coat, Dami rushed from Milford Hall into the snow with a grin plastered on her face. In no time snow was threaded through her hair and she was engaged in an epic snow battle with a large group of other sophomores. An hour in to their snowy shenanigans, Dami yawned. It should have been a clue to rest, but she rarely paid attention to the clues where there was fun to be had. Instead, she continued to pack snow balls while ducking behind a bench. She stood just in time to see her friend get pelted in the face with a ball of snow. The sight caused laughter to erupt from her lungs, only to stop when her legs became noodles beneath her and the cold of the snow on her face. She could hear her friends continuing their war with a few added laughs around her before one knelt beside her. They knew by that point not to make a huge deal of the cataplexy unless they wanted to risk the wrath of Dami, chewing them out in their dreams. Once able to move again, she let them pull her to her feet with a grin.

After brushing herself off, Dami felt it would be best to take a nap before going ragdoll in front of anyone else. She’d never minded attention when she was goofing around, but preferred to avoid the sympathetic brand of attention. Once back in her pillow and blanket covered room, she flopped down in a mass of comfort until her brain quickly conceded to sleep. Eyes opening once more on the other side of REM, Dami found herself walking down a long and luminescent hallway. All around her were oddly shaped doors of various shapes and colors. She new that each led to the dream of someone else either in Skybourne or elsewhere and that once she stepped through the door, there was no guarantee that she would not regret what she saw. After only a few moments, she stepped forward, feeling drawn to a particular door.

Once inside, she could not help but smirk at the sight of her friend standing in the middle of the room, causing a piano to hover above his head. A brow perked as what sounded like some sort of theme music played and he thrust the piano into the air, an image of an entire city coming into view. The piano hit a giant lizard that seemed to be terrorizing the town. She remained unnoticed in his superhero fantasy until a laugh burst forth from her lips, this time without incident. Varun turned to see her, concern clear on his features until the glossy-eyed look faded and realization dawned on him that he was only dreaming. Dami took the opportunity to dream up a Scarlet O’Hara-esque look for herself, complete with a silk hand fan. “Oh, don’t stop on my account. Would you like me to play Damsel, so you can save me from Godzilla?”

—

“Forgive me if I sleep until I wake up.”

A B O U T

Name: Dami Remone Shah Nickname: Damsel, Sleepy Age: Nineteen Date & Place of Birth: January 25th, 1998 & Houston, TX Sexuality: Pansexual Pronouns: She/Her Faceclaim: Liza Koshy

M O R E

Major & Minor: Creative Writing & Psychology Classification: Sophomore Occupation: Student & Librarian (if not possible for a student, maybe a library clerk?) Rank: Hero Support Power: Dream Walking Limitations: Dami can only enter dreams if she is asleep, leaving her body vulnerable. She can only enter the dreams of those within a certain proximity to her or those with which she has established some sort of connection. Once Dami is in someone’s dream, she is subject to the events that occur in that dream. If Dami is in someone’s dream when they wake up, she might experience sleep paralysis involving the person’s dream until she is able to wake up. Status: TAKEN

P E R S O N A L I T Y

+ confident, spontaneous, engaging - impulsive, sarcastic, impatient

B I O G R A P H Y

The Shah family was seen as one of reputable status in their community. Amelia Shah worked as a state prosecutor, specializing in cases against those with abilities who committed crimes while Amar Shah was a member of the Texas House of Representatives. Being in such high standing within their community, the Shah’s kept a strict and scheduled environment for their only daughter, Dami. Such treatment left Dami with an amicably rebellious nature. She often pushed just past the limits set for her and developed an outgoing personality despite the sheltered lifestyle that her parents intended for her.

When Dami started to show troubling symptoms of lethargy, daytime sleepiness, and insomnia during the night at the age of seven, it was not seen as something of immediate concern. Her parents and teachers deemed her lazy and doctors believed that she could be depressed which contradicted her hopeful and bubbly personality. She did not find lack of interest in her favorite activities, but rather had a hard time staying awake when participating in the things she enjoyed. No one saw any real reason for concern until, at the age of 13, she began to experience sudden loss of voluntary muscle tone when laughing or feeling strong emotions such as anger or anxiety.

Finally, Dami was able to see a specialist and, much to the dismay of her parents, she was diagnosed with narcolepsy type 1. In response to the diagnosis, her parents wanted her to quit all of her extracurricular activities to reduce the chance of any “incidents”. They tried to remove any ounce of excitement from her life, but Dami fought against their efforts. She was determined to live her life to the fullest despite her limitations. Unfortunately, her adrenaline-seeking exploits led to her becoming a victim of a small-time villain by the name of Foe Hawk who had escaped prison after losing a case to Dami’s mother. With her condition, Dami hardly stood a chance against him.

The news of her capture spread quickly, bringing fame to Foe Hawk and prompting other small-time villains to follow his lead. In no time, Dami’s parents hired private security to watch Dami at all hours. Her efforts lessened the frequency of Dami’s abductions. Up to that point, the villains had been inept amateurs trying to make a name for themselves, but the added challenge brought on a more serious contender with a personal vendetta against Amelia Shah. While her mother was in the midst of one of the biggest cases of state versus powered persons in the history of Texas, Dami was kidnapped by one of the more infamous villains in the area. He held her in a nuclear waste disposal facility where she was exposed to radioactive sludge.

The rescue that followed the incident proved to be one of the more dramatic rescues during her tenure as a damsel in distress. Dami awoke after the ordeal in the hospital but found that no one could quite see her. She soon realized that she was stuck in a dream. As usual, the dream was lucid, but she found that things looked a bit different. When she approached another sleeping patient, she found herself thrust into their dream. Over time, Dami learned how to communicate with others in their dreams and even learned to create within the dreams of others. She had a long way to go, but knew that there were many things she could learn from her new abilities.

Dream walking gave her an entire new lease on life that she didn’t have before. She no longer feared falling asleep, but was able to accept the power that her sleep gave her. Simone Burke, a friend of Dami’s parents, suggested Skybourne where Dami could develop her abilities in a safe environment and Dami jumped on the opportunity at new found independence in a heartbeat. She often doubts her value as hero support, but believes there is some place for her among the others at Skybourne. That is, if she can stay awake during her classes.

F A M I L Y

Amelia Shah (mother - alive) Amar Shah (father - alive)

C O N N E C T I O N S

Simone Burke: Simone is a family friend of the Shah’s and was the one who suggested Dami attend Skybourne to learn and develop her power.

Chantelle Dominiquez: The two have bonded over the high statues of their over-protective parents and the various ways they’ve rebelled over the years.

Varun Kapoor: Dami often feels out of place among her peers who were born into powered families, but quickly bonded with Varun over the origins of both of their abilities.