#lily pad pupils

[geckobrains]

home is where - lily pad pupils

[talesof-old]

friends? | j.p.

pairing(s): james potter x reader

warning(s): nothing really, slight mentions of infidelity, breakups due to inappropriately close friendships, slightly rushed and not edited/proofread

word count: 1k

a/n: i’m so sorry this took me so long i lost track of time

masterlist

bsf!james potter + realizations

“You spend all day with him, what else am I supposed to believe!”

Your boyfriend’s—or rather, your ex-boyfriend’s—words were still on your mind, even a week later. A year down the drain, for what? You sighed and closed your Charms textbook. Studying would have to wait for another day.

Your books and parchment were shoved into your bag and then you were exiting the library, ready to put on one of your sad records and wallow in your dorm.

As you made your way to Gryffindor tower, you hear your name being called. You turned. James, followed by his three friends, all looking rather bemused. Your heart beats faster. What was once second nature, a smile and greeting, now proved far more difficult than you could’ve imagined.

James fell into step next to you, fingers intertwining with yours in a motion that appeared as easy as breathing. Your smile faltered before you caught yourself. Holding hands was normal between friends, wasn’t it? Affection came naturally when you cared for people. James squeezed your hand before all but dragging you through the Fat Lady’s portrait.

Unceremoniously, he dropped his bags at the foot of the unoccupied couch and flopped down, bringing you down with him. You fell against the plush cushions, belt digging into your waist.

“You alright? Y’seem a bit…off.” You nod your head. It was no use rehashing the events that had led up to this point. Instead, your gaze turned to where your hands were joined.

You wondered when the lines of friendship blurred between you and James. Before, you’d taken your friends’ teasing in stride, assuming they were just taking the piss at the two of you. Sure, James was attractive and unnecessarily attentive, but that was just James.

He knew all of your mutual friends schedules, knew what they liked or didn’t, always cared for each of you. The thought that he treated you in a different way hadn’t even crossed your mind.

Sirius cackled to your left and you glanced over, watching as his cheeks went red and he shook his head at Remus. You raised a brow. Had you really gotten so caught up in everything that you hadn’t noticed? Heat rushed to your face as you thought back to your boyfriend’s breaking point.

Abba blared in the Common Room, plastic cups littering every available surface filled with some far too strong mixed concoction. Lily had abandoned you to dance with Mary, leaving you nodding along to the music. Your boyfriend would likely be arriving any moment. A Hufflepuff, talented and charismatic, who’d somehow managed to sweep you off your feet in the middle of Divination class.

“There you are.” An arm wrapped around your shoulder. You flinched, your drink sloshing as you turned to gaze at the boy. James’ smile was crooked as he leaned closer to you, pupils dilated. You grinned back, nudging his ribs to curl into his side. He rubbed your shoulder.

“I couldn’t find you earlier, thought maybe you’d abandoned me for some book upstairs.” You rolled your eyes. Someone yelled from across the room, the sound followed by several drunken hollers. You turned to face him. James’ face was barely two inches from yours, eyes unblinking behind his glasses. You raised a brow.

James just grinned, squeezing your shoulders. Your cup was discarded almost immediately as he started guiding you towards the table. Two punches were gleaming in the light, though you could’ve sworn one was far pinker than you remember it being.

“What did you lot do?”

He gasped in mock offense. “Us? You think so lowly of your friends that you assume we’ve messed with the punch?”

Your blank look had him caving.

“Alright, maybe Pads added something.” You huffed a laugh.

“Just be care-“ Another student bumped into you, sending you falling into James’ chest. A ruckus started from where a group of Gryffindors began wrestling. You shook your head.

James turned you around. “You alright?” Perhaps if you’d been paying attention, you would’ve noticed just how close he was, and noted the way he held you.

But you didn’t. However someone else, watching the whole thing, did. He’d made a point to stay back and see if his suspicions held any truth. James Potter was in love with you, even if you couldn’t admit it.

You let James drag you over to your friends, plopping you down on the couch before settling down next to you. With your affectionate disposition, it was only natural to nestle into his side. Sirius wiggled his eyebrows at you; your friend’s teasing would only be taken as a lighthearted jab.

For the moment, you just savored the warmth of James beside you. In the presence of your friends you felt safe and understood. Perhaps that’s why you never questioned it. James pressed a quick kiss to your temple as he leaned forward to grab his drink.

That was enough for your boyfriend. Playing second to James was not a game he wanted in on. And for you to be so oblivious to it all? The sharp sting of betrayal was ample enough reason to show that it was time to bring things to an end.

You shook yourself out of your thoughts. There was no point in dwelling on the awful conversation you’d had with your ex. The realizations you’d had since that night were enough to occupy your time. James wrapped an arm around your shoulders. Briefly tensing before melting into his embrace, you leaned your head against his arm. Despite the hurt you felt from your boyfriend seemingly suddenly breaking up with you, the freedom you now had to question yourself was exhilarating. Perhaps you’d figure out what all this meant, with time. Maybe you could find it in yourself to pay more attention to the actions of a particular friend.

James squeezed your hand. You turned, looking up at him with questioning eyes. “We’re going to the kitchens to grab a few things, you coming with?”

You shrugged. “Don’t see why not.”

+++

[fluloa]

the way i JUMPED seeing that edit.. blessing us again fr

i can’t tell if jake sully or you getting the rightful attention you deserve makes me more happy but i say both <3333

also do you ever wonder how the pandorians shower? like in the jungle, do they use the same water or wait for rains? [ definitely NOT subtly asking for short jake sully shower drabbles if you’re down ]

- 🍒 !!

GASP MY BEAUTIFUL CHERRY ANON YOURE BACK! i just had a shower so this is perfect

Showering is Jake’s favorite part of his day. Not only does it relax him and wipe away the grime and sweat from his day of work, it gives him you. To spend time with you and only you, even if it’s just for a simple thing like showering.

It’s Pandora, so showering isn’t the easiest and the ways to do it isn’t exactly ideal. But if it’s anything that he’s doing with you, he doesn’t give a shit.

Swimming through the river, the water fluorescent and glimmering with a few bits of moss and lily pads here and there. Watching you wet your hair, cleanse your face softly with your fingers and he just can’t help but stare in awe.

Looking to him, laughing as your eyebrows crease together. “What?”

“Nothing, you’re just beautiful,” he mumbles, a dopey smile on that cute face of his. He earns a flick of water from you. It splashes at his face, and his face drops. “Oh— you wanna play that game, girl? I can play it too.”

You see him leering towards with a grin on his lips and you gasp, “No, no, no. Jake, I’m sorry— don’t!” He scoops you up, lifting you high up by his shoulder as you kick and squirm in his hold. “Waitwaitwaitwait—“

Then he slams you into the water, your squeal cut off by the water hitting your face. He’s chuckling like an idiot, as you lay in the river like a dead fish. When you rise up, you’re frowning, wet hair pulled in front of your face as your shoulders sag. Jake’s about to say something in concern before you’re pouncing onto him, roaring out as you tackle him into the water. When he comes back up, you’re giggling like an idiot as well, as he blinks out the water that trickles at his eyelashes.

“You better run,” he says, and you break off into a sprint, him not long behind you.

For soap, the na’vi use a specific type of beady paste that’s mushed gently with a specific type of leaf and it kind of smells like mint.

You can never put it on yourself, Jake always has to do it for you. He always says that it’s for your own sake, but you’re not sure if that’s the case.

He helps you lay out on the river’s edge, dipping out of the water as he pours the paste into the base of his palm. He gently smoothes it down your body, taking extra care in places like your breasts or your thighs. He lets his fingers ghost over your private, and you slap his wrist away from it. He chuckles low, muttering an excuse and that he didn’t mean to do it but you know damn right he did.

Most of the time, it rains heavily on Pandora, like, heavily. To the point of almost flooding. When it does, he drags you out to a random spot within the forest, making sure no animal or lurking na’vi is there before he’s grabbing your face and kissing you. The raindrops pitter patter on your skin as he relieves you of your top, and then your loincloth. You detach his knife holder strapped to his chest, untie his loincloth until you’re both naked, bare.

You let the rain catch to your body, let it soak into your hair and drip into your dips and curves. He only watches you as your arms stretch out wide, pearly teeth peeling out from underneath your smile as you turn. The grass beneath your feet is soaked, water flowing up to your ankles. You turn to Jake, whisking your hands over his hair as it dampens. His ears flicker to your sudden motion of affection, dark pupils wide from the darkness of the night.

Usually on the nights like these it ends up with you sprawled out onto the wet grass, body shrilled with rain as he enters you in a slow, loving pace. Tsaheylu’s connected, low breaths escape his chest, his hands wrapped warm around your waist. You let a whine peel out of you, a kiss to his jawline that makes his tail give a little swish.

You pull him in with every thrust he gives, sucking him up with your soft walls and pushing him closer with your thighs rounded tightly around his hips.

When you both finish, the area’s full of panting and gasps, his head pressed up against yours with his still cock sunken deep into your pulsing cunt. With the energy he has left, he lands a soft kiss to your blue cheek, and you’re both due for another shower.

[tiyoin]

god au

“My lily, please-“

“That is not my name”

“It was yours long ago-“

“Right ” You drawled. No matter how fast your legs walked, (more like staggered) the gap you tried to create between the two of you never seemed to lengthen, nor shorten for that matter.

He walked behind you calmly, like he was on an afternoon stroll underneath the willows and oaks. Though with each step desperation seemed to seep into the grass, its heavy burden eroding the soil and leaving footprints his ancestors will clamber about.

Though he kept up his relentless track. Once again you've underestimated the gods

“You have no idea how long we- I have been looking for you. How long I had to go without seeing your face, touching your skin, hearing your laugh. All those thousands of years without you felt like I was in the depths of Tartarus.”

You stopped walking, rearing back to face him as you tilted up to face the oh-so-high and mighty god who kept insisting you were his ‘dead lover reincarnated’

“I am not your dead lover! If I was this lover of yours why was I reincarnated and not resurrected? There are tales of the gods reuniting lovers whose other half had joined the great beyond. You're a god yourself, yet here I am a nymph"

"Just because I am a god doesn't mean I can control the fates. Even if I could there'd be a trick or favor played against me. And I am anything but a fool "

“Then who was I before I was resurrected- and don't you dare say your lover”

You were getting tired of hearing the same practiced lines over and over again- like a bard who only knew one tune.

“…You act high and mighty for a nymph”

You froze, lily pad wilting over your head as you searched his eyes. Yes, they were different from that one peeping god's. But they were all the same.

A different shape, a different color, and a different pupil. You thought you'd never see eyes so cold and lifeless ever again.

Yet here they were, staring straight at you.

In later days you'd come to realize that those eyes were all around you. Each one was different in appearance, like pottery in a shop. Each has its design, its own story, and its price.

They'll always have the same darkness, the same emptiness.

The sun’s warmth no longer reflected in their irises. It was like they stole the eyes of the dead.

“You have no power to ask such questions”

You bit your tongue. Not just because he was right; you had no power. You had no land, no domain, and no special powers besides turning into the murky waters of your swamp, or the reeds and wildflowers that littered its banks. And what were you supposed to do with wreaths? And unlike Antheia, you had no seat in Olympus or at any council. You were a nymph.

You should be honored that a god is even looking in your direction- using it to your advantage to have children to tie him down and to hold onto his power.

“I-“

You stopped yourself. You can't explain the feeling, but it was like a flash of lightning in a tempest, its luminescent zig-zags lighting up the battling sky of your mind.

Yes, you had no land, no domain, no seat at Olympus with your name carved in it.

But you had worshippers. 6 powerful ones who proved time and time again they would kiss the ground you, a nymph walked on.

“You are right, I do not have the power to ask such things” You took a step back, adjusting the white of the chiton as you willed yourself to finally look into his fish eyes.

"But you do not have to power to cross over into the marshes of Antheia"

He let out a huff of air, stepping back as well. "The day you hide behind that goddess is numbered nymph." He took two steps forward. He was dancing on the invisible line you had made. The line Antheia had carefully drawn long ago.

"And soon enough, you'll be on your own" He leaned closer "Because now, you'll be playing with the big boys. And we bite, hard”

<- previous ✩ೃ° next ->

master list

asks about god au welcomed!

[haveyoulistenedtothisalbum-poll]

Tracklist:

skin meadow • lily pad pupils • yes! yes! a thousand times yes! • whaling for sport • everyday feels like 9/11 • 9/12 • daytona 500 • chris farley • nursing home riot • floral organs

Spotify ♪ Bandcamp ♪ Youtube

[opheliajupiter99]

Lil' Gid - A Fanfic to go with my voodoo doll Gid art

(Not sure when in the timeline this'll take place. Also I know I've done like, seven posts in two days but damnit, had a lot of inspiration lately lol)

It was a remarkably quiet night, for once, in the fetid swamp that surrounded the Inn at the End of the Road. Bugs buzzed about and the murky water bubbled, little frogs bouncing from lily pad to lily pad and ribbited as they went along their merry ways, some hoping in pairs and others alone. It was calm, peaceful even, which even in the safe areas of the Feywild wasn't exactly common.

A sudden, albeit small, noise cut through the silence though. Wet soil crumbled and cracked away as a small, cloth hand bust up from beneath the earth, a few fireflies buzzing out of the way in surprise as the tiny figure clawed its way free of the muck. As it crawled out from the soil, the area around it was illuminated by a soft, flickering light.

The little figure was a red cloth doll, a pair of large dark grey buttons sewn in place of eyes, and a stitched smile along its face. The flickering light came from the bundle of pitch-black string tied to the top of its head, as if it were hair, and while it was indeed merely string, the potent magic that gave the doll life in turn set its mop of string hair ablaze.

As the doll moved forward, the little metal chains that were shackled to both of its arms dragged along the ground, leaving marks in the mud and occasionally grinding against pebbles that were stuck amongst the muck. It had only one article of clothing; that being the black and red pair of overalls and suspenders, stitched quite expertly and of the same quality leather that real version wore, and upon its revealed chest was a stitched black heart, put precisely where one's heart resided to indicate where to land a lethal blow.

The doll took a moment to brush itself off, patting away bits of grime with its mitt-like hands, before turning its gaze towards the inn. It wasn't too far away; there was no need to emerge at a distance when there was soil all over the place, especially given it was so small that even a short distance could take forever to travel. It waddled its way up to the wall of the inn, looking WAY up towards the window, pondering to itself silently why even living voodoo dolls had to be barely a foot tall. It thought for a moment how to get up, then looked down to the chains on its wrist, and got an idea. It swung the little chains up; it took a few tries, but it managed to hook onto a crooked piece of chipped wood and began to pull itself up.

Sometime later, Kremy laid in bed in his room, his hat gingerly placed upon the bedside table, his arms curled up and supporting his head. He was having a hard time getting to sleep, truth be told - something about tonight just felt...off. He hadn't heard jazz, and things weren't anymore misty than they usually were outside, and beyond Gid's room he hadn't smelt any cigar smoke, so he figured he was just being paranoid, but even still, he couldn't quite settle his nerves.

He was suddenly startled by the sound of something metal rapping against the window, several clack-clacks in quick succession. He tensed instantly at the sound, his fists clenching instinctively. That...was metal; not a bird's beak, not a pebble tossed, not a fingernail knocking, that was -metal-. He again tried to convince himself he was just being paranoid, but even an expert lie couldn't make something up at this rate. Paranoia was usually a fine answer to worries, but in his case...

He sat up, and after a few deep breaths, slowly turned his head to look towards the window. He didn't see anything at first, but after a moment of staring, a flickering light came into view, illuminating the foggy darkness beyond the glass, quickly followed by a pair of button eyes, and even though there were no pupils, he could just -feel- that the doll was looking at him specifically. Normally, seeing a little ragdoll that's barely a foot tall in a window would be at most creepy, and at least downright silly, but for Kremy, that sight was enough to plummet his heart right down his gullet.

Kremy sat there for what was probably just a few seconds, maybe a minute, but what felt like forever, just staring wide eyed at the doll as it climbed up further into view, until it fully stood in the windowsill, staring at him with that stitched little smile. Kremy just...kept on staring, a million thoughts racing through his mind in a contained, but very, very real panic.

What had he done? Had more time passed than he expected and he'd already run out of time on his debts? But if that was the case, why couldn't hear the telltale ominous jazz? Why wasn't an eerie fog filling his bedroom? Why wasn't there the heavy scent of cigars and rum? He supposed the Baron could be trying to be subtle - but why in the hell would the Baron of all Loa want to be subtle? Usually when the Baron took a soul you could tell from the next town over; he was just too theatrical to not make it into a big production.

The doll rapped its chains against the window once more, pulling Kremy from his thoughts. The doll made a lifting motion with its stubby arms, indicating him to open it up. After a bit of hesitation, Kremy moved up oit of bed and towards the window, lifting it open, half-expecting a skeletal hand to jut out of nowhere and drag him away. That didn't happen, however, instead the doll simply hopped off onto the floor at his feet, staring up at the man in an almost expectant fashion.

"Look...I dunno why you're here, but if I've done anythin' wrong, I swear I can make up for it." The doll shook its head, leaving Kremy even more perplexed than he already was. "So...why the fuck ya here then?" The doll looked about for a moment, then waddled over to a small worn crayon near the bedside table, likely left behind by Hootsie when she'd came scampering in after a nightmare earlier that night. It picked it up, having to use both hands since it lacked fingers, and moved over to the wall, beginning to write upon it clumsily. It wrote 'HeLp' upon the wall, then turned towards Kremy and pointed to him.

"...The Baron, sent ya to help me?" The doll nodded enthusiastically. Kremy let out a deep breath of relief he'd been holding since the first knock upon the window came, putting a hand to his face. "Oh thank the fuckin' gods...ya scared the shit outta me, lil' man." He said with a chuckle, the doll putting a hand to its mouth in a silent chuckle of its own. "Well uh...shit. Wasn't exactly expectin' company but...ya can hang out in here, I guess? I know ya don't sleep but, ya can chill in here til mornin', then I'll tell the others about ya, okay?" The doll nodded, then held up its hands joyfully as if to say 'uppies!'. Kremy sighed with another chuckle and carefully picked the little doll up, the stitched smile upon its face seeming much more genuine now.

[despiterage]

𝟑-𝟓 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐘 𝐁𝐄 𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘.

𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐒:

verdant green

golden amber

jet black

𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒:

petrichor

spanish moss & orange blossoms

the sweat from a hard day's work in the unforgiving sun

the metallic punch of fresh blood in the air

campfire smoke

𝐅𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐎𝐍:

a well worn pair of leather boots; sunbleached; caked in mud and blood; laces full of prickly, clinging seedpods

ill-fitting sweaters and jeans and t-shirts pulled from donation bins and plucked from clotheslines

shitty plastic sunglasses stolen from tourist traps and unsuspecting hikers

clothes worn until they no longer serve their intended function; frayed at the seams; full of poorly patched holes; loved to dust

𝐎𝐁𝐉𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐒:

multitool pocket knives

fishing line and paracord

a wood axe in need of a good grinding

banged up tin cups and kettles

𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐆𝐄:

fists curling up tight and being shaken out at the wrist; an unsubtle bounce from foot to foot; heaving chest; flared nostrils and parted lips

deathly, tension-ridden stillness; slow, shallow breathing; darting eyes and dilated pupils

drawn in shoulders; head slung low and half hidden by a hood; arms crossed across the chest and fingers pressed down and under the upper arms

squared shoulders; defiance in the brow, in the set of the jaw; a clawed fist held high and fangs extended

𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒:

jagged, uneven initials carved into stone and benches and walls and dirt, but never living trees

marshland and mangroves; lily pads bobbing on a slow moving body of water; streams snaking through untouched greenery

berry bushes with thorns studding every inch of their stems, keeping the sweet fruit safe from all but the most persistent

jewel toned scales on a snake coiled tight and posed to strike any who ignore its warnings

Tagged by : @milehighmechanic

[forthedancingandthethriving]

It felt like a piece of her was.. missing.

Root had moved out of all the classes she shared with the rest of the kids, and they all learned a bit ago. Principal Guy had only shook his head when he was asked, and he was honest when he said he didn't know why. All he knew was that Root asked to be moved to different classes, on account of 'something happening'.

Lily knew, though. They all did.

Lily glances over at the desk where Root used to sit next to her in history. She twirls her pencil, not even paying attention to whatever was teacher was saying.

Her heart aches. Her entire being aches. She misses Root.

She glances down at her desk. Memories resurface.

"We're not having any more lessons for a while," Diana said suddenly, tapping sand off of her trident.

"What?!" Lily turned around, eyes wide. "Why?!" These lessons were her escape from what had happened with Root. Why was Diana stopping them?

"You're in no condition to continue this training." Diana shook her head. Her trident vanished. "What happened is weighing too heavily on your heart and mind. You can barely focus. Your mind clearly keeps replaying the confrontation you had."

Lily looked down, her heart breaking. Was she that easy to read?

"Focus on yourself for now." Diana looked down at Lily sympathetically. "You need to heal before we continue such tiring training."

The be rang, and Lily looked down at her paper. She'd written nothing. Maybe she'd ask Cody for the notes, he always liked history more than she did..

"Lily?"

Speak of the devil. The cat gently pats her shoulder as the two walk out of history class, a small frown on his face. "Are you okay? You were spaced out the entire class."

"Just.. thinking." Lily mutters. The two begin walking through the halls, heading to the cafeteria. "Cody.. does.. do you think everyone might be ready to forgive Root..?"

Cody's frown deepens. ".. that's, uh.. that's a toughie. The adults might be.. but.." He sighs. "What you really have to worry about is LC. You know how he is."

The young girl looks down, nodding her head minutely. But the thing was, she didn't understand why Lil Coding was so against it, so fired up regarding it. Maybe she'd have to ask one of her grandpas. She doubted either of her dads would tell her.

"Oh!" Cody snaps his paw pads.. somehow. "That reminds me. Bowser Jr. apparently saw a street performer in the city yesterday. He was doing magic and tricks and stuff. Junior's probably gonna round us all up to go." He smiles gently. "You feel up to go?"

Lily thinks before nodding. "Yeah, sure." She then smiles and gently nudges his shoulder. "Just promise me you won't try and snuggle up too much to LC."

While her friend's cheeks turn red, both of them laugh. "No promises."

○●○

Root tugs her hood over her head a bit more, focusing solely on the man surrounded by the citizens of the Mushroom Kingdom. There was a man in a simple outfit, blue and gold, and yet he looked.. eerily like Root. His hair was the same silver, and his pupils were almost slits, like hers.

But that wasn't what mattered at the moment. What mattered was.. how well this man was doing. The flames were moving around him, almost like a snake, and there was a glow around his hands, silver and gold. He was moving smoothly and yet boldly. He knew what he was doing.

It was inspiring. Truly, truly inspiring an amazing.

Root pauses as she watches.

If she could do that. Channel all her emotions into flames and movement. Would she still be a monster? Or would she be looked upon more fairly?

She glances down, tugging her hood once more before walking off.

She felt eyes on her briefly, and there was a small hint of her that hopped it was Lily.

○●○

"Who knew you were good at dancing, boss?"

"Not another word."

Ozymandias picks up the basket that had been left behind, shaking it and its contents. It was filled with coins and other useless things, mostly just to keep him coming. It took a bit to narrow down what the universe his Offshoot was in, but they found it.

Still, the Offshoot was remarkably tricky to find. Either the Offshoot had code so badly formed that he was struggling to locate it, or it was hiding itself.

"Were you able to spot anyone that looks like me?" Ozymandias asks, looking back up from the basket. Him and Garyboy began heading back to the portal that had been opened.

"I didn't see anyone like you." Garyboy points towards him with a plunger. "But I did see someone in a cloak walking away in the middle of the performance. It looked like they were hiding who they were."

The snake virus chuckles, glancing back over his shoulder with a smirk. He knew he felt familiar code nearby. "Is that so?"

[endofherwildsideau]

🐊•|Kêłłêñ|•🐊

His Voice by Prince Naveen

| Animal Mode | Bioluminescent | Royal | Arrival | Old-Self | His Weapons | Voodoo Priest |

Deadname: Kelan Olson

Name: King Kellen the Marsh Alpha

Name Meaning: swamp; Slender Or Slim. Descendant Of The Brightheaded One. Swampy Area.

Nicknames: kell, key, and kelli.

Birthday: July 23

Cause of Death: Alligator attacks

Age: 180 (die in the age of 15)

Species: American alligator

Race: Mexican 🇲🇽 & African-American.

Gender: Male ♂

Relationship status: Single

Sexuality: Bisexual

Home World: Earth (Formley) Miracle Region (Currently)

Kingdom: Hidden Marsh; Orleans City, Great Foggale, Black River, and Nyssa town.

Role or Job: Alligator Alpha. God of Swamp/Marsh & Voodoo. Holder of Crown Jewel pieces. Master of taming the Swamp/Marsh animals. Ruler of Hidden Marsh; Orleans City, Great Foggale, Black River, Nyssa town & Marsh Alphas. Voodooist. Fortune Teller. Voodoo priest.

Facts: his eye color changes based on expression or emotion; Cardinal Red: Aggressive, alert, dominant, and disagreeable. Sweet Orange: proud, cautious, strange, distrustful, and untrusting. Yellow Iris: playful, challenging, hopeful, and logical. Swamp Green: neutral or Calm, and disgusted. Iris Blue: sad, honest, Trusting, accepting friendly, noticeable, and close ally. Plum: focus, studying, creative, and wise. Thunder Gray: Confused and surprised. Pink Lady: embarrassed, sweet, in love, kindness, and kind.

Companion Pet:

Yara the Lily-Pad Otter

Spirit Animals:

Shadow animal-spirits

Parents:

Unnamed parents

Abilities:

Alpha Physiology

Human Physiology

Hybrid Physiology

Reptilian Physiology

Ally Empowerment

Animal Companionship

Animal Creation - only on Swamp/Marsh animals.

Animal Training Mastery - only on Swamp/Marsh animals.

Animalistic Vocalization

Aquatic Breathing

Avian Companionship

Bioluminescence

Cane Proficiency

Claw Retraction

Companion Allegiance

Contaminant Immunity

Creature Studies Mastery - only on Swamp/Marsh animals

Decelerated Aging

Dermal Armor

Enchantment

Enhanced Durability

Enhanced Lung Capacity

Enhanced Senses

Enhanced Smell

Enhanced Strength

Eye Color Shifting - based on emotion or expressions.

Glowing Eyes - only when the power is active or glows in the dark.

Hair Growth

Hat Proficiency

Hibernation

Infinite Digestive System

Mediumship

Mind Control - to control other Marsh alphas

Mind Link - to control other Marsh alphas

Mode Switching - Companion Form & Animal Mode

Night Vision

Omnilingualism

Pointed Ears

Poison Immunity

Powerful Bite

Prehensile Tail

Regeneration Healer Factor

Scale Manifestation

Smoke Bomb Proficiency

Speed Swimming

Tail Manifestation

Taming - only on Swamp/Marsh animals

Unique Eye Coloration

Unique Hair Coloration

Vertical Pupils

Wallrunning

Weapon Summoning

Zoolingualism

Zoological Mastery

Powers:

Abjuration

Blessing Inducement

Card Magic

Cartomancy

Curse Inducement

Dimensional Storage

Environmental Field Projection

Magic Hat

Magic Object

Magical Telekinesis - via with crane

Precognition - by using the cards.

Retrocognition - by using the cards.

Self-Sustenance

Sleight of Hand Mastery

Syncognition

Trick Hats

Voodoo

Voodoo Combat

Voodoo Doll Creation

Wetland Adaptation

Wetland Creation

Wetland Magic

Wetland Manipulation

[frogndtoad]

in other news i am once again listening to home is where's the whaler (2023) . started crying from the transition from skin meadows from lily pad pupils. Man.

[regallibellbright]

Some runners up from icon changing:

[ID: A screenshot of a dialogue sprite for Beat when shocked from The World Ends With You, here focused on Rhyme, in Noise form, sitting on his shoulder covering her face with her paws, her fur standing pointily on end and her eyes wide. End ID]

Several variations of Noise Rhyme but I was leaning towards this one for the facial reactions.

[ID: Official artwork of a Chipsqueek from the Rune Factory series, a squirrel-like monster with pinkish red fur over most of its body and pale yellow fur on its belly, face, paws, the underside of its tail, and the inner portions of its long, tufted ears. It has a darker red stripe on its tail dividing the red and yellow sections, like a chipmunk, and looks at the viewer with sparkly round eyes and a small smile. It is holding a large acorn-like nut in its paws. End ID]

Continuing the squirrel theme, Chipsqueek!

[ID: Official artwork of a Ribbitee from Rune Factory 5, a round, bipedal pink frog with a lighter pink underbelly, simple cartoon limbs, a happy smile, cheek blushes, and red eyes with cross-shaped pupils. It is holding a lily pad on a stalk in its hand. End ID]

A Ribbitee, in either “cute” or “violence” mode.

[ID: Official artwork of Yuelia from Fantasy Life, a young goddess with pale skin, pale blonde hair worn in small curling pigtails on either side of her face with thick bangs, and deep blue eyes with diamond-shaped pupils or shines. She wears a white hooded robe trimmed in gold, with long loose sleeves and a rounded collar with a crescent moon symbol, a necklace of large white pearls or beads, and a teal rectangular geometric fabric trimmed in gold down the front cinched with a white belt, along with sandals with high, wide ankle straps. She is depicted floating just off the ground, an awestruck look on her face as her hair and clothing float with her, and golden balls of white surround her. End ID]

Yuelia, for Excellent Face Potential there.

[ID: Enemy art from the Kingdom Hearts mobile games showing a Loudmouth Heartless. End ID]

And a Loudmouth, because looking through after realizing I was gravitating towards Creatures it just stuck out to me.

[barkingangelbaby]

ughhhhhh i love home is where soo much so much so much I'm listening to the whaler again n am just gonna drop my favorites from that album here :)

also this set with wax bodega is incredible incredible incredible !! brandon n tilley are angels

cannot believe i'm gonna see them live at one of my favorite venues in two months.. it's truly gonnna be a religious experience !!! hiwf!!!! you are my neighborhood!!

[a-star-aquarium]

The Golden Handed Servant

Jayda Ronan Chidal

Nicknames

JJ was a simple nickname zahra started using as not to refer to him by his dead name when he started transitioning

Lily Pad is Juno’s nickname for him

Jazz is a fun little nickname he made for himself, and is often a name he allows friends to call him

Age: 42

Birthday: March 3rd ♓︎

Gender/Sexuality:Omnisexual {preference for men} trans man {he/him}

Astrology: Pisces Sun, Cancer moon, Pisces Rising

Patron Arcana: king of cups

Upright - Emotionally balanced, compassionate, diplomatic

Reversed - Self-compassion, inner feelings, moodiness, emotionally manipulative

Physical Attributes:

Distinguishing marks: 6 arms, extra eye, top surgery scars (if their visual, but you’ll barely see the man wearing a full shirt, its hot where he lives)

Height: 6'4

Hair:

His hair after his deal with the magician is similar to the color of a foxes mane, it's very orange.

Naturally, his hair is very curly (type 3a curly to be specific) but he commonly started straightening it after the magician's spell grew it out so long.

His hair remains to go about halfway down his back, and he doesn't intend to cut it, despite the fact he kept it short for his 20s.

Eyes: His 3 eyes are simply white, no pupil, no iris, again, another prospect of the magician's spell. But he remains to be able to see out of all of them

Face claim: Adarsh Jaikarran

{for now, I may find someone who suits his age better, but he reminds me a lot of young Jayda}

Important Relationships:

He has one child, Kita Laure, who is the product of him and Zahra being together before either of them transitioned, and Zahra discovered she was simply only into women. He’s never talked with him, as after Kita got sick as a baby, him and Zahra attempted to cure him with the local doctors. When Zahra had forgot to pick him up from treatment, the couple of healers decided to make Kita their own family member and left across the country.

Zahra and Juno remain to be the people he cares about the most, Zahra being his friend of 26 years, and Juno being his friend of 8 years. He holds them higher than anybody in the world.

He remains to be an orphan, no mother or father to his knowledge.

Favorites

Favorite food: Sashimi

Favorite drink: Chamomile tea

Favorite Flower: tiger lillies

Background/Other Info:

Jayda grew up similarly to Asra in a way, living off the streets with nobody to raise him, only learning from the books he stole and the lessons he was taught by strangers. Sure, the people of his city got to know him, and he even got many of them to give him free stuff, but nobody offered him a home. He remained on the streets until the age of 16, when he met Zahra, who had ran away from a forced marriage.

It's important to note that Zahra wasn't as open with Jayda as she is now, but her parents had attempted to force her to de-transition, when they could not make her, she was sold off like cattle, and when the man no longer wanted her, her cold dead stare every night haunting him, they DID force her to de-transition, and they gaslit her back into the closet, so ergo why she left, and why Jayda met her pre-transition. {you'll most likely see this repeated in her ref, but it's important to note that Jayda met her this way, which is why I included it here}

At the age of 30, Jayda seeks out the Magician, who offers him one wish. Jayda wishes to be more virtuous, to be a man of the people, and the magician grants him that. Of course, working with a major arcana can have its drawbacks, so Jayda is changed into an almost completely different man. The once confident man had gained the gift of awareness, which has made him hypersensitive to every single thing he does, including his actions and physical state. The gift also helps him be more on top of his work at the palace, so it's not the worst. His third eye is for sight, to be seeing clearly and all knowing, so that he can help those around him. And his 6 limbs, which are for strength, with so many arms, surely he could help out all of Roya at once? {he can but it's utterly exhausting}. His hair turning from the beautiful chestnut to the interesting orange was a reminder from the magician to Jayda, a piece of him, so that he will never forget the gifts he was given. Not that Jayda ever could, as he's lived this way for the past 12 years.

What he looked like Pre-Magician:

Style Preference/Clothing:

Semi-similar to Juno, except he likes much more vibrant clothes (unless he's trying to match with Juno and Zahra) He likes form fitting shirts and tops {though he generally just wears a vest}, and flowy pants or skirts for his bottom half. He too wears a lot of jewelry, and he adorns himself In a lot of rings and necklaces. Mind you, none of his clothes are bought, they're generally made by himself, or adjusted due to his 6 arms.

{its too hot for him to be layering, but you might find him with a scarf or some fabric tied around his waist}

Dynamic? How is he with others?

Jayda's more of a people person than most, even if he struggles to socialize with people. He enjoys talking to the people of Roya, getting to know them, giving them advice, helping them. He just prefers it to being alone. He spent most his life that way, so he'd rather not continue that.

This means it'll be a lot easier to make friends with him! Sometimes he'll start conversation, but generally it may take you speaking to him first. Jayda is the sort to enjoy both intellectual conversations and goofball sessions. He is silly, and he likes to joke around a lot. He is a bit more sensitive though, so he's not the type to laugh if you joke about his appearance or personality.

As your friend, he'll definitely go out of his way to plan things for you two to do together, he likes hosting events for Juno just so he can invite you most times {being an event coordinator has its perks sometimes}

Now Jayda, unlike some of my characters, definitely gains 'crushes'. But it's not over simple stuff, he has to have a deep connection with you for him to really develop feelings for you. At the same time, he'll be far too scared to tell you. And trust me, this man could see you 4 times over 14 years and still not tell you he's madly in love with you. It's not a fear of commitment though, just a fear of rejection.

That being said, he's probably one of my most lovey dovey characters there is. He's extremely affectionate, both physically and emotionally, he loves to praise his partners, love them unconditionally, and keep his hands on them ALL THE TIME. He's a lot more charming and bold when you give him the confidence of actually dating him, it's not just a fickle crush, you actually love him, and that makes him so much more prideful.

He'll often come cuddle up with you in his round bed with all the pillows on it, most likely lulling you to sleep so that you can take a nap with him before dinner. He's also keen on dates, and he's never one to hesitate with going all out for you. Unlike Juno, he won't spoil you with gifts bought with money, he'd rather make something for you, something sentimental. It's special to him, just like you are.

Jayda is always available for interactions, or ships, so if you're curious, feel free to send an ask!

[blacktopmemories]

Playlist for Saturday, August 12, 2023

Skating Polly - "Masquerade" Annie Taylor - "Birds" Protomartyr - "Make Way" Lauren Early - "A Good Story" Arlo Parks - "Room (Red Wings) Death Cab for Cutie - "Champagne from a Paper Cup" Elvis Costello - "Sulphur to Sugarcane" Ben Folds Five - "Smoke" Geese - "Mysterious Love" Home is Where - "Lily Pad Pupils" Claud - "All Over" Elliott Smith - "Roman Candle" The Weakerthans - "Watermark" Joey Vann - "If You're Here" David Bazan - "People" Portugal. The Man - "Time's a Fantasy" Velvet Vaughan - "Magic, Baby!" M. Ward - "For Good" The Get Up Kids - "I'm a Loner Dottie, a Rebel" Northstar - "Pollyanna" Arctic Monkeys - "Hello You"" Manchester Orchestra - "Cope" Bodywash - "No Repair" Local Natives - "Empty Mansions" The Beths - "Watching the Credits" T. Hardy Morris - "Audition Tapes" Moondoggies - "Annie Turns Out the Lights" xo - b. To download or stream the show, click here!

[sinceileftyoublog]

Home Is Where Interview: We’re Already Here

Photo by Texas Smith

BY JORDAN MAINZER

“It’s a whale.” That’s how Home Is Where vocalist Brandon MacDonald answered to me, over email, my question, “What’s the story behind the cover art?” referring to the front of their incredible sophomore record the whaler (Wax Bodega). On the surface, given the amount of energy she poured into writing and recording the record--along with performing the songs on a nightly basis--I don’t blame her for the brevity. Dig deeper, and the whaler is riddled with simple verses, or at least direct statements chiding life’s paradoxes. They come sandwiched between comparatively complex verses likening the world to a self-eating organism, an animal or a human devouring its own entrails in an act of desperation. In its 35-minute runtime, the whaler journeys through cultural and sociopolitical history, from 9/11 to the death of Dale Earnhardt (Florida’s 9/11, as MacDonald says). It’s an emo concept record whose concept isn’t that far-fetched: We live in a world where we’re getting used to every day life getting more horrifying.

You can understand why the whaler is a mere reflection of real life for the Palm Coast, Florida quartet. It’s been an emotionally trying few years for MacDonald, who suffered a nervous breakdown in 2021. As the band released their debut album i became birds to critical acclaim, rendering them the unofficial ambassadors of fifth-wave emo, MacDonald transitioned. But as a result of horrific anti-trans legislation passed earlier this year in Florida, both she and guitarist Tilley Komorny, also trans, left the home state they loved in order to protect themselves. With this added context, the emotional outpour of the whaler becomes all the more powerful. MacDonald describes it on opener “skin meadow” as “spilling guts to the gutless;” “Forgive me for giving a shit!” she barks, on a song that contrasts Komorny’s gorgeous, twinkling Midwest emo guitar arpeggios with warbling singing saw, horns, and gang vocals scream-chanting the title. In general, the instrumentation and composition on the whaler thrillingly wavers between emo/hardcore and Americana, sometimes within the same song, emphasizing the band’s influences, and something that’s actually a positive cultural output from this godforsaken country.

The narrator on the whaler--whether that’s MacDonald herself, a character, or a collection of characters--concerns themselves with how we interact with both other individuals and society as a whole. On “lily pad pupils”, the titular whaler kills whales because, simply, it’s what they do. “I am the whaler,” MacDonald repeats as if to give the narrator’s life meaning, over Komorny’s banjo and Dan Pot’s pedal steel. A hangman brings flowers to an execution. Everyone is trying to extract beauty from an ugly situation. On the flipside, the loveless couple at the altar on “yes! yes! a thousand times yes!” are lying to themselves and each other, faking normalcy, getting eaten up by mosquitos as the song transforms from disco beat to hardcore blast, their camouflage wearing off. “9/12″ consists of twinkly piano, a sample of children speaking, and a single line: “And on September 12th, 2001, everyone went back to work.” It recalls the oft-memed picture of George W. Bush reading to a classroom, dumbfounded as he’s being told that planes have crashed into the Twin Towers. Everyone’s numb, and nobody knows how to react or move on. On a smaller scale, the twangy “daytona 500″ illustrates the cyclical aftermath of localized death: “Animal control came to collect last night’s roadkill form the roadside / Where fathers of drunk drivers plant a cross / For their loss when the wreck is hauled off,” MacDonald sings. Her sneer, knotty delivery, and imagery all recall Jeff Mangum, an admitted influence, from fever dreams of fluids and loose teeth to “lips knitted kissin' like pigeons shittin' on windshields.”

If there’s a line on the whaler that acts as the album’s thesis statement, it’s on “whaling for sport”. MacDonald knocks down the idea of a traditional higher being when she sings, “An all-knowing God doesn’t know what it’s like / To not know anything at all.” Twenty three years ago, Isaac Brock sang, “The universe is shaped exactly like the Earth / If you go straight long enough, you’ll end up where you were,” and MacDonald’s pearls of wisdom recall a similar idea. The folks uniquely positioned to comment on our hell-scape are not the usual talking heads--they’re the ones who on “chris farley” watch as a garden grows over a buried body, who on “floral organs” are “spitting teeth into each other's mouths back and forth until we make a smile.” The wheels of their racecars spin and spin, until they lurch into forward motion, even if they crash. the whaler ends on a tape loop, the same as the start of “skin meadow”. We wake up and do it all over again.

In the middle of their tour, MacDonald was nice enough to answer a few questions over email about the whaler, her writing style and mindset, and playing live. Read our exchange below, edited for length and clarity.

Photo credit: Texas Smith (Prairie Creek Productions)

Since I Left You: the whaler imagines a world where every day is 9/11 and we've become numb to tragedy. How close do you think we are to that world in reality?

Brandon MacDonald: Reality is subjective and easily manipulated. I wouldn't recognize it if you pointed it out. We’re already here. We've been here for a long time.

SILY: As sad as it is, some folks become numb to tragedy as a means of self-protection. Would you say that's the case for any of the characters on the record?

BM: I don't see it as self protection, I just see it as what happens after being inflicted with endless tragedy. The characters on the record are all different people, and at the same time, the same person. I don't feel protected by the numbness, just bored and afraid.

SILY: There's some tongue-in-cheek humor on the record, from Florida lore to a song named after Chris Farley. How important is humor to you as a coping mechanism, writing strategy, or both?

BM: My grandmother always says after something rough happens that, “If I didn’t laugh, I’d cry.” That's where some of the funny comes from. It’s hysterical and unnerving.

SILY: Despite the song "9/12", you've posited that 9/11 was the true turning point in our history, a before-and-after type event. Do you feel that way about any other world events or eras, even if not quite as impactful?

BM: When Dale Earnhardt died. That was Florida's 9/11. Praise Dale.

SILY: Were there any newfound musical influences on the record?

BM: Not really. We just stuck to what we like. Bob Dylan, The Beach Boys, Joan Of Arc, Hank Williams. things like that.

SILY: Do you pay attention to reviews of your music or what the general public says about it? Has your relationship to the record changed at all since it's come out?

BM: I see some--I don't really think about it too much. The record is complicated for me because the writing happened during a really dark period, but recording it and touring on it has been the most fun I've had. I like that some folks like it.

SILY: The record has such a wide array of instruments on it. How do you adapt these songs to a live performance?

BM: We have very different approaches to playing them live than in the studio. I want the songs live to be intimate and fun. In the studio, I can't help but want to add layers and mess around. Some of the more dense songs are strange to play at first, but folks don’t seem to mind the absence of certain instruments. Maybe we don’t need them at all?

SILY: You recently shared a tribute compilation for I Became Birds. Even if not part of the same "scene," how would you describe the kinship you feel with the bands that were included on there?

BM: I don't really know what the scene is. I just have some friends, and they make good music. I admire all the acts on the comp. We all owe a lot to Heccra for what all of us are doing with music, whether we know it or not. He's the first.

SILY: What's next for Home Is Where?

BM: LP3. DVD copy of Barnyard.

Home Is Where tour dates:

7/13/2023 Nashville, TN Drkmttr 7/14/2023 Atlanta, GA The Masquerade 7/15/2023 Orlando, FL Wills Pub 9/13/2023 Phoenix, AZ The Rebel Lounge 9/14/2023 Santa Ana, CA Constellation Room 9/15/2023 Los Angeles, CA Knitting Factory NoHo 9/16/2023 Berkeley, CA 924 Gilman 9/19/2023 Portland, OR Holocene 9/20/2023 Seattle, WA El Corazón 9/22/2023 Salt Lake City, UT The Beehive 9/23/2023 Colorado Springs, CO Vultures