#but hay I’m worse at guitar

[fanartbyherd]

Ok incredibly stupid of me.

But I’ve been looking at the sheet music for Faroe’s song and learning to play it on piano. (Note: I am not good at piano, but in theory I know how to play piano… I theory)

Thing is Faroe’s song is relatively simple. But I also noticed that it is a song that relays heavily on using your left hand to really carry the song. Melody may be on the treble clef, but the accompaniment on the bass clef is really what makes the song recognizable.

As my sister notied when I showed her the song it sounds like moonlight sonata.

Regardless what all this made me think of is that now that Arthur has to rely on John to be his accompaniment along with his eyes. To play his daughters song I it’s entirety he has to open up and trust some one else with her memory.

[vague-bisexual-crimes]

Friday - “it is true I wished to escape; and so I wish still; is not this not lawful for all prisoners?”

Angel is putting here parents through it with the back and forth is then isn’t coming home now.

God she hates Mac so much <3

But my hand closes around something else instead. Jimmy’s knife.

I glance to one side at Rowan. He’s spaced out, staring into the air. Holding his guitar like a soldier with a gun against his chest. He looks worse than he has all week. Sometimes I look at Rowan and can’t remember what he used to look like. We were in primary school when we first met. We were placed next to each other in class and told to learn five facts about the person sitting next to you. All I remember about Rowan’s was that his favorite band was Duran Duran. All he remembers about mine was that I’d never broken a bone. He had rimless glasses and short tight curls. His jumper was way too big for him. As soon as we both learned that we each wanted to be in a band, we were best friends. The boy next to me no isn’t anything like that boy. Not bright-eyed and excited to tell me about the new guitar he got for his birthday. Not dragging me to the music block go show me he could play the bass line for a Vaccines song. No laughter. No wonder. We got hay we wanted in the end, though. Didn’t we? We wanted to be in a band. Hang on, hang on, I need a sec oh my god. I’d like to once again say THEYRE BEST FRIENDS!!! CHILDHOOD BEST FRIENDS!!!!! ALL THEY WANTED WAS TO BE IN A BAND!!!!!!! EVERYTHING THEY EVER WANTED AND IT COULDN’T BE WORSE!!!!!!!!!!! secondly, NO LAUGHTER. NO WONDER.

Thinking about how fast Rowan signs the contract where Jimmy and Lister hesitate. How he knows it’ll be worse, less time to do anything but the band, to see his family, his girlfriend, to have a life, but this is what he’s supposed to do, this is what will make them successful, and eventually it’ll get better.

I think I’m losing it. Going off the wall. Is this why celebrities eventually get addicted to drugs? Because it all gets a bit too much? Sometimes I think about taking drugs. Sometimes I think it might help. When I see Lister smoke and drink, I know it’s bad, but I understand why he does it. It’s so he doesn’t have to think. I hate thinking.

oh Lister :(

“Do you ever imagine what would happen if we just…ran away?” asks Lister suddenly. I glance at him. He’s looking at the window too. […] “I think about it all the time,” I say. RUN!!RUN!!RUN!!!!! GO!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Lister you can’t be surprised when he climbs out the window you suggested climbing out the window and running away from your responsibilities. Jimmy meant business (is actively having a breakdown)

Do you ever wonder why Lister didn’t just follow Jimmy? Like I get it, he’s freaking out cause he didn’t think Jimmy was serious but man you could’ve just like followed him. Pretty easily.

I need to talk to Juliet. Jimmy will have to wait. I can message him on Twitter later. He’ll probably never see it anyway. Juliet is the priority today. I need to talk to her. I need to repair the mess I made. Nothing good ever comes from Twitter. Also, ANGEL YOU WERE SO CLOSE!!!!! YOU WERE GOING TO CHOOSE JULIET!!!!!

Angel is very enthusiastic about this, for some reason. I thought she’d be annoyed at having to go out of her way to give me back the knife. I didn’t think she’d still be a fan of me after seeing me have a meltdown yesterday. They don’t like seeing you sad.

Another group appear—boys and girls. A woman and her daughter. A group of men in their twenties. I just start posing for selfies. Like it’s a fucking reflex. I can’t just leave. I can’t just say no. I get it, but you actually can and frankly I think you should start being mean to them 🤷‍♀️

Jimmy clinging to the sleeve of Angel’s hoodie like a child. Angel taking care of the main part of the thing that has given her a will to live for the past five years. :(

Jimmy, you’re already taking her to your grandad’s house I don’t think telling her the address is going to give away the location.

Personally I love Angel’s Jimmy’s gonna murder her bit. Jimmy just doesn’t get it

I can’t with Jimmy’s family. I NEED to know about his relationship with his sister desperately.

I go to the front of the pews and sit, and for the first time in weeks, months, I don’t know how long, reach out to God. He’s waiting. He always is. No matter how long I go, no matter how shit it all gets, at least I have one or two things waiting for me. God doesn’t care whether I have one pound or one hundred million. God doesn’t care if I make a mistake, if I fuck yo again and again and again. God asks me, “How are you?” and I just start crying. I try to be white but I can hear my sniffs echoing from the stone walls. God says, “Say something,” and I tell Him that u don’t know what to say, and He says, “Anything you’ve got.” But I just cry some more. God tells me, “Everything that happens is making you stronger,” and I want to believe Him but I can’t. “I love you anyway,” He tells me. At least someone does.

I decide to stop and visit my grandmas grave. The gravestone still looks relatively new compared to the huge old stones around it, despite it being over five years old now. Grandma didn’t see any of this band shit happen to me. For some reason, that makes me glad. Joan :’(

Joan of Arc :(( Joan Ricci :(((( his grandma :(((((((

Piero isn’t buying any of this bs

“You would give your lives for these boys. You cling to them like you’re reaching out to a god. They practically keep you alive. But beneath that, and if you took all that away, you fundamentally do not value yourself.” He sighs. “All your love is given away. You leave nothing for yourself.” “I—I don’t think we’re all like that,” I stammer. “But I think you are,” says Piero, looking directly at me. SHOTS FIRED!!!

“I know he asked you for help,” says Piero, “but the trouble is, while asking for help is always good, it’s impossible to keep relying on others to solve your problems for you. There comes a point where you have to help yourself. Believe in yourself. “Are you talking about Jimmy or are you talking about me?” I say. He smiles and says, “You tell me.”

I’ve done something stupid, coming here. Just to have a little cry on my grandad’s shoulder. My own little pity party. He done something even more stupid, asking some fangirl to come with me, just because people on trains scare me and I thought she was a nice person. But there is one thing I am sure of. One thing I know is the right decision now. Not stupid. Not sad. Not pitiful. I’m freeing myself I’m leaving The Ark. !!! GO JIMMY GO!!!!!!!

[thatwritingho]

I apparently am unable to write anything for Toki that isn’t sad or horny.

Whoops.

Head canon prompts here

Trigger warnings for child abuse, and later mentions of sexual assault, in the ‘Unrealistic’ section.

Realistic: His love of building models comes from all his time spent alone and bored in the punishment hole, where all that was available to him was random debris, twigs, sticks, hay, rocks etc. He would pass the time by building, creating his own sad little mini models of his house, nearby buildings, cars, and planes; planes that could fly him far, far away from where he was, from the miserable life he led.

Semi-related, but he is also just incredibly good with his hands and small detailed movements in general. Its how he picked up guitar so easily, in fact.

He was in charge of all the household chores and repairs, and was ensured to be punished for asking for help if he didn’t know how to fix something, or god forbid he did it wrong. This has caused him to be incredibly intuitive when it comes to general handiness, and he’s quick to solve puzzles and things of the like.

Funny: Purposefully colors outside of the lines in coloring books. His parents were so controlling when he was growing up, he naturally swung in the opposite direction as soon as he was free and is loath to do anything someone tells him to do directly, especially when he was younger.

One of the band members (probably Skwisgaar) once told him he was shit at coloring because he didn’t stay in the lines well enough, and from that day forward, Toki makes a point to go outside the lines just for spite, even when alone.

Sad: Judging from how Toki goes completely silent when first reunited with his parents, I’m pretty sure they forced him to also take a vow of silence at a young age for their crazy religious reasons, under the threat of severe punishment, of course. Obviously he broke this as soon as he got away from them, as we know he has no religious beliefs any longer, but the years of trauma and instinctual fear of his father immediately drove him to silence once more while in his presence, even after a decade or so of no contact. He instantly regresses, and that is so telling.

Poor little Toki was probably totally shut off from the rest of society except for maybe church, but tbh his parents seem like the types that would hide him from everyone a la the ‘children should be neither seen nor heard’ logic, and also to conceal the abuse(not that anyone would say anything to the cult-leader Reverend, even if they did see it, for fear of retaliation). So sweet little bean had no one to talk to but his parents his whole life, and now he can’t even do that?

It’s probably another reason why he clung so hard to his clown doll; the only one who would listen to him, who he could freely express his thoughts to.

Unrealistic: Again, trigger warning for sexual assault.

This is a horrible thought, but one I’ve always had regarding Toki’s fear of Bicentennial Quarters. I know they excuse it as being similar in appearance to the entrance to his punishment hole, but that’s never really sat right with me, and I think the root cause is more sinister.

One was in his line of sight and is the object he chose to focus on while being abused, thus he associates those feelings of intense fear with the coins, which is why he dissociates so heavily when faced with one. Maybe there was one laying around the house when he got a particularly nasty beating, even by his father's cruel standards.

But, given the alluded frequency and severity of his punishments, I'm more likely to assume it was sexual assault rather than just physical violence that causes such a strong reaction. 

Like maybe he was sexually assaulted while hitchhiking after leaving home, staring at the coin sitting in the floorboard while he was forced over the edge of the seat of the parked truck.

Or, maybe even worse, Aslaug himself r*ped Toki. Unfortunately sexual abuse in religious cults isn't exactly uncommon, and given the extremity of Toki's physical abuse as a child, I wouldn't be surprised if it turned sexual at some point as well. 

Its especially interesting to me that all of Toki's flashbacks during Dethdad are instances of his physical punishments, except for one; him walking in on his parents having sex. Scaring for any child, I know, but for him to have that on the same level in his mind of being beaten? Something's fishy there. I'm inclined to say that, after being interrupted, Aslaug, well...took his physical frustrations out on his son, before breathing and throwing him in that dark dank cellar to cry and process the physical and emotional pain all alone.

Fuck me, why do I always make everything about Toki sad?

Sorry to leave off on such a bummer.

[angel-tries-to-write]

Tease

Rating: Teen and and up, mild sexual content Pairing: Mac x gender neutral reader (at least I tried) Word count: 3692

You've been dancing around each other for years, time to shine now. I suck at summaries, if you hadn't noticed yet.

You two have been teasing each other forever. Okay, maybe not forever, but definitely since you've met for the first time. You've been recruited to CIA by Matty Webber straight from college and a couple of years later you were offered a job in Phoenix Foundation, where she had transferred earlier. Director Webber wanted to have you in her team, so it was obvious that sooner or later you were going to meet the other agents. Especially this particular agent, whose blue eyes and smug grin made your heart jump a little in a way you didn't like, and you didn't know whether you wanted to punch him or kiss him. Both were really tempting. None of you seemed to be aware of the fact, that you couldn't even talk like normal people. Every one of your conversations just had to become the aggressive flirting that you were oblivious of. Not even constant 'get a room!'s managed to give you a hint of what you were exactly doing. Well, there just had to come the time when things started to get out of the hand.

You loved missions which required wearing a formal dress, heavy make-up and attending a fancy party. You liked blending in, pretending to be someone else and having way more fun than you were supposed to. Currently you were sitting by the bar, sipping slowly some probably expensive drink, which you almost spat out when a man sat nearby. The characteristic smell of his cologne gave you goosebumps, made your knees weak and sent a strike of heat into your lower abdomen. You knew that scent very well, it was sandalwood. One of your big turn-ons. No one said it was going to be an easy mission. You tried to breathe, but it wasn't helping at all, luckily, the man hadn't stayed nearby for long. He ordered his drink and went away right after getting it, only then you could let out a sigh of relief. It'd be better to keep that secret. The universe, on the other hand, had different plans.

A few minutes later Mac and Jack identified the target of your mission. They've been chasing it currently and you'd gladly help if you wore some comfortable shoes. Or at least you could run more carelessly, without having to mind your steps. You joined them only when they lost the track of the target. You walked into the almost empty room and you felt the same feeling you had at the bar. That familiar scent again.

“Don't waste your time, (y/n), we already checked there” said Dalton, trying to hide how disappointed he was.

“Who do we even chase?” you asked. That couldn't be a coincidence that you smelled this cologne here.

“This man” Mac showed you a photo of the man you've seen earlier at the bar. Bingo! That's why you smelled his cologne.

“Well, then he has to be here” you entered the room and looked around. The faint scent seemed to be stronger by one of the walls. You looked closely and saw a narrow chink in the wall, hidden under the decorative wallpaper. Clever, Mr. Bad Guy, but not clever enough. “There. Something is here.”

The two agents exchanged a surprised look and approached to see what did you find. None of them could understand how did you do that.

“Not bad for you” Mac teased and started to work his magic to open whatever was in this wall.

A few hours later the mission was completed and you were on your way home.

“Hey, (y/n)” Jack spoke suddenly. “How did you find that dude?”

“My secret” you answered, not even opening your eyes you closed a few moments ago.

“Tell me” he pleaded like a kid.

“Fine. I smelled his cologne. It contained sandalwood and it's my favorite scent” you admitted, too tired to resist.

“Isn't it an aphrodisiac?” Riley asked, rising an eyebrow.

“What's that?” asked Jack.

“Basically you smell it and you get horny” explained Bozer, not bothering to be subtle.

“Well, it doesn't work on me this way. I just think it smells nice” you lied, trying to avoid comments. You started to worry that Mac wasn't saying anything, you hoped he was asleep or lost in thoughts, but it wasn't really possible. You bet he was up to something and you were sure you would find out what soon.

A couple of days later Matty called in the team. You were first in the war room, sitting on the armchair and checking something on your phone. You barely noticed the others coming in, except for one person. You first smelled, then felt his presence, finally seeing him. On the armrest of your chair was sitting your favorite blonde boy and he smelled like never before. You could easily identify sandalwood in his new cologne and it smelled so good on him, that you couldn't focus on anything else, feeling your arousal rising.

“(Y/n), are you alright?” you heard Matty's voice. “You seem distracted” she said and you could only imagine how big shit-eating grin Mac had to suppress.

“Sorry. I got a slight concussion on the last mission” you lied easily. “It must've impacted on me a little.”

“So that's how we call Mac from now on? A concussion?” Bozer muttered to Riley and they both chuckled quietly.

“I heard that” you said, sending them your best death glare.

“Girl, I'm just saying you look weird since he entered the room, it's not my fault I'm this observant” typical Boz tried to save his butt as usual.

“Can we focus on the debriefing, please?” you snapped angrily. “Having fun, Macgyver, aren't you?” you growled quietly, making sure he's the only one who heard it.

“You have no idea” he replied, very amused indeed.

After a few days you managed to get used to his new scent, especially after one situation. You were in the field, under the fire, waiting for a bomb to explode and therefore Mac's trap to work. When it went off, you two acted by a pure instinct, he pulled you into his chest and you clung to him, burying your face in his shirt. You regretted it immediately, he smelled like your favorite cologne and sweat with a faint tone of metal and chemicals, which was a surprisingly good mix. Of course you remembered enough biology to know it was no magic or silly love, but a chemical reaction. His pheromones just happened to be very compatible with your nose and brain, which was of course problematic, but not weird or something. And it was easier to tell yourself that, instead of admitting you were in love. Anyway, when you got used to this new scent, it was easier to stay focused. Although you were about to find out, that things were about to get worse. Or maybe better? Depends on the point of view.

It was just a regular celebration of Mac's birthday. Gifts, cake, party in his home. The usual. One thing that was different, was Jack, who made you all participate in a karaoke session. He obviously didn't take 'no' for an answer. The good part of it was that he let everyone pick their song, so you could sorta punish him.

“Come on, (y/n), your turn!” Dalton commanded. You typed the title in the searching bar and everyone groaned?

“Really, dude? Despacito? The most popular and annoying song no one knows lyrics of?” Bozer was clearly unamused.

“I know the lyrics and I think it's beautiful” you protested.

“Do you know it to the point to not watch the screen?” asked Jack and you knew he was up to something.

“I do. But I'm not going to dance, if that's what you're thinking about” you said, crossing your arms on your chest.

“How did you-”

“I just knew” you shrugged. “But I think I might have a little problem, since I don't know the original version, just a cover I adore. And it'll be hard to get an instrumental version for this cover.”

“Then pick a different one, come on, we don't have all night for this” Riley rushed you.

“But I want this one. To make sure Jack will never come up with such a terrible idea again.”

“I can always play for you” offered Mac and you all but Bozer looked at him surprised. “What? I'm not a pro, but I'm also not bad. Besides I think I know which song you have in mind” he said getting up and he took the guitar that was always in his house and everyone simply ignored it. You found the right chords for him and after a few moments Mac was ready.

He started very similarly to the original version, even playing a bit Latino way, pulling the strings separately, not in a classic way.

Comin' over in my direction So thankful for that, it's such a blessin', yeah Turn every situation into heaven, yeah Oh, you are My sunrise on the darkest day Got me feelin' some kind of way Make me wanna savor every moment slowly, slowly

You started with a shyness and hesitation, your cheeks blushed while singing, especially in English. When the Spanish lyrics started, you felt more confident. No one could understand you anyway.

¡Oh! Tú, tú eres el imán y yo soy el metal (You, you’re the magnet and I’m the metal) Me voy acercando y voy armando el plan (I’m getting closer and coming up with a plan) Solo con pensarlo se acelera el pulso (oh yeah) (Just thinking about it accelerates my pulse) Ya, ya me está gustando más de lo normal (I’m already enjoying it more than normal) Todos mis sentidos van pidiendo más (All of my senses are asking for more) Esto hay que tomarlo sin ningún apuro (This has to be done without a hurry)

Despacito (Slowly) Quiero respirar tu cuello despacito (I want to breathe your neck slowly) Deja que te diga cosas al oído (Let me whisper things in your ear) Para que te acuerdes si no estás conmigo (That you’ll remember when you’re not with me) Despacito (Slowly) Quiero desnudarte a besos despacito (I want to undress you with kisses slowly) Firmo en las paredes de tu laberinto (Sign the walls of your labyrinth) Y hacer de tu cuerpo todo un manuscrito (And turn your body into a manuscript)

As the song continued, you couldn't tear your eyes off Mac. You knew you were singing for him, that your feelings were flowing through you. The second part of the song was different, however.

The club isn't the best place to find a lover So the bar is where I go Me and my friends at the table doing shots Drinking fast and then we talk slow (despacito) Over and start up a conversation with just me And trust me I'll give it a chance now Take my hand, stop, put Van the Man on the jukebox And then we start to dance, and now I'm singing like

Girl you know I want your love Your love was handmade for somebody like me Come on now follow my lead I may be queasy, don't let me see

Oh boy Ya no hablemos más (Let's not talk anymore) Toma mi cuerpo y frótalo contra ti (Take my body and rub it against you) Ven y sígueme hasta el fin (Come and follow me to the end) Ven, ven y sígueme hasta el fin (Come, come and follow me to the end)

I'm in love with the shape of you We push and pull like a magnet do Although my heart is falling too I'm in love with your body Last night you were in my room And now my bed sheets smell like you Every day discovering something brand new I'm in love with your body

Oh I, oh I, oh I, oh I I'm in love with your body Oh I, oh I, oh I, oh I

Oh, despacito This is how we do it down in Puerto Rico I just wanna hear you screaming, "¡Ay, Bendito!" I can move forever cuando esté contigo (when you are with me) ¡Bailalo! (Dance!) Pasito a pasito, suave suavecito (Step by step, gentle gently) Nos vamos pegando, poquito a poquito (We’ll get closer, little by little) Cuando tú me besas con esa destreza (When you kiss me with that skill) Veo que eres malicia con delicadeza (I see that you are malice with delicacy)

This part was definitely about Mac, he was just the real life definition of "malicia con delicadeza". Well, you were ready to admit that maybe you would like to do all what the song was about and a lot of more. After this part, the end was just a formality, you didn't actually need it.

I'm in love with the shape of you We push and pull like a magnet do Although my heart is falling too I'm in love with your body Last night you were in my room And now my bed sheets smell like you Every day discovering something brand new I'm in love with your body

Oh I, oh I, oh I, oh I Despacito Oh I, oh I, oh I, oh I Come on, be my baby, oh yeah

You finished the song and finally looked at the others. They were genuinely impressed by either you, Mac or both. Jack was speechless and you thought it was the best thing that could ever happen, at least you could appreciate a few moments of silence before they started to talk. Bozer spoke first, complimenting both of you, the others joined him quickly.

After a few hours of having a good time it was time to say goodnight. Matty left first, then Bozer with Leanna, Riley, and Jack was the last one. You were supposed to leave either, but you wanted to stay and help with the cleaning. No one could convince you to not do that, because you were this type of a friend who would always clean up, even if you were a guest. Besides you felt in the house comfortable enough to not care and just casually start to wash the dishes.

“Are you doing that to spend more time with me?” Mac asked, when he finished his part of the cleaning. You were almost done either.

“Of course not. I really don't like to leave a mess, even if I'm a guest. Besides, I know it's easier to clean up together than on your own” you answered honestly, giving him a smile. You hadn't drunk much, but enough to feel his presence more intensively than usually.

“I appreciate that a lot” he said and started to do something around the kitchen while you finished your job. It was almost like he wanted to spend more time with you.

“You know, I've been thinking... maybe we should go out from time to time? Like... just the two of us” he said after a while.

“Are you asking me for a date?” you looked at him slightly surprised. Was that possible he felt about you the same way you felt about him?

“I guess I am” he looked at you with his adorable puppy expression and you couldn't help but giggle.

“Then I guess I say yes” you answered and before you thought, you quietly added in Spanish: “Besides, you're so cute it's hard to say no.”

“I bet not as cute as you singing that song and thinking no one understands you” he replied also in Spanish and you were grateful you finished washing the dishes, because you would certainly drop whatever was in your hands if they weren't empty. Your face paled, then reddened furiously.

“I... No... It's...” you tried to say something, but words didn't want to form in your head. How could you be naive enough to think he doesn't know Spanish? This golden boy obviously could do everything.

“Hey” he put his hand on yours, but you took it away.

“Stop before I'll do something I'm going to regret” you whispered, looking into his blue eyes.

“Let me do something first.”

“Okay.”

As soon as he heard your permission, Mac leaned down and pressed his lips to yours. That was certainly not something you expected, but you didn't waste your chance and kissed him back. You wanted to both stay and run away, torn between listening to your mind and heart.

“I should be going” you whispered finally between kisses, but clearly not wanting to let him go.

“Stay” Mac pleaded and his fingers ghosted over the skin under the hem of your t-shirt.

“I want to, but I really shouldn't.”

“Baby, it's cold outside” he purred, kissing your neck. You smiled widely but your breath hitched.

“Alright. So where would I sleep?” you asked teasingly, unbuttoning his shirt slowly.

“In my bed?” he followed the game, sliding his hands under your clothes.

“But I have no pj's” you smirked, exposing his chest which you traced gently with your fingertips.

“You won't need them” he kissed you hungrily and lifted you up, then carried you to the bedroom. Not that you minded.

When you woke up in the morning, you didn't actually know whether you were supposed to be happy or scared. Or maybe both. Last night was either making your dreams come true, or a total disaster and the end of your friendship. Everything depended on what Mac thought about it. But the blond agent was still asleep, so you got up silently, took his shirt and left the bedroom. You didn't take any of your things, in case Macgyver woke up. You didn't want him to think you vanished and left him all alone. And you were right, by the time you came back with breakfast, he was awake.

“You scared me” he said and yawned.

“Why?” you asked, putting the tray on the nightstand and sitting comfortably in bed before you put in on your lap.

“I woke up and you weren't there. I thought you left, but then I saw your clothes.”

“It would be difficult to go anywhere outside without them” you chuckled, cutting a bit of the pile of pancakes with a fork and then offering it to Mac. “Besides, I didn't even want to go. I was just hungry. And I wanted to think what to do next” you explained, taking another bit yourself.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that we should talk about us. Without teasing and jokes, just seriously talk about our feelings and-”

“I love you.”

These three words silenced you for good. Jack told you once that you and Mac have too big brains for your own's sake and you tend to overanalyze simple stuff. While relationships, according to Dalton, were no quantum physics, these stuff were simple. Well, you could swear physics was more simple than dating. But apparently Mac listened to his friend and decided to think less, act more.

“I... totally didn't expect that” you admitted, still shocked.

“I thought it was obvious. All that flirting, teasing, your favorite cologne... Everyone knew. They told me last night” he said sheepishly.

“You know what they say, "love is blind"? I was so in love that I didn't see anything at all. I seriously want to laugh at my own stupidity” you giggled, trying your best to not spill the coffee. “I was sure that if you ever found out how I feel about you, it would ruin our friendship. I was too focused on hiding my own feelings that I didn't notice yours.”

“We would make a perfect couple” Mac chuckled and kissed you.

“We will make a perfect couple” you corrected him, breaking the kiss. “You don't really think I could give up now? I love you too, Macgyver, whether you like it or not.”

“Oh, I do” he smirked. “Let's eat and I'll show you how much I like it.”

“Sounds fair. Unless you tease me again.”

“I can start to. As soon as we finish” he took the fork you held and fed you with pancakes just like you did before. Once you finished, he unbuttoned his shirt you were wearing and kissed you.

Of course it was the perfect moment for Matty to call. You wanted to suggest he shouldn't answer, but you knew a little too well that she would kill you both.

“Hey, Matty, what's up” Mac answered the phone with a speaker, so you could hear the boss too. He used a very convincing sleepy voice.

“I'm sorry to wake you up, but there's an emergency. Get ready and better be in war room in an hour. Also, do you know anything about (Y/n)? Her phone is dead and she didn't reach her home last night.”

“I'm sure she's fine” he said as you literally held your breath.

“Mac, this is serious, if something happened to her, I will search the whole world until I find her.”

“I mean it, Matty. I assure you she's fine.”

“Do you happen to know something I don't?”

“Maybe...” he tried and you sighed. There was no point in trying to fool her.

“Just don't tell Jack, okay?” you spoke. “And Bozer or Riley.”

“I'll just say it's about time. In this case I guess I can give you two hours” Matty's voice sounded way more amused than you wanted her to be.

“It's fine, we were about to get up anyway” you said embarrassed.

“No, you weren't, don't try to fool me. I know you better than you think and Ican tell you counted on a lazy day in bed.”

“Okay, enough. See you in Phoenix” you said and Mac ended the call, agreeing with you.

“So, we have two hours. I suggest we should use them well” he smirked and for the first time you didn't have the dilemma whether you want to punch him or kiss him. You just leaned in and kissed him hard. These two hours were going to be the best used time in your life. You were sure of it.

A/N: Used song is obviously “Despacito x Shape of You” by my favorite Pentatonix

[kathyprior4200]

The Chipper Cleaner

The Golden State of California hosted a melting pot of different cultures, cuisines and languages from around the world. The Great Depression of the 1930s hit families and businesses hard. Many people were out of jobs, some lived in the streets or in debilitated shacks close together. Mexican, European and Asian immigrants were often seen in camps, doing what they could to survive and live through the days. Men, women and sometimes children would help out in the fields and harvest wheat and food. It wasn’t uncommon to hear guitar playing or balls being kicked around or a few songs carried out in the desert air in an attempt to lift spirits up.

 To make matters worse, a terrible drought spread through the nation in 1930. Crops died from lack of water and harvests failed across farms in the U.S. Thousands went hungry as farms and homes were lost. The former prosperous economic growth and glory of the Roaring Twenties was reduced to memory.

 The 1940s would bring about World War 2, more women in the workforce and the internment of thousands of people with Japanese ancestry. For as diverse as California was, racism, sexism and discrimination were still commonplace everywhere.

 In the vibrant city of Los Angeles, California, a nifty little girl was born. Her name was Nerissa, born March 22nd, 1929. She was born to her parents: Hiroto and Akemi Nifuti. Her mother, Akemi was from Japan and arrived to Hawaii. Having only met her husband through sent pictures as a picture bride, she and Hiroto got married on the docks of Hawaii. She was disappointed to hear that Hiroto was older and didn’t have any luxury cars or clothes. Nevertheless, it was an escape from her family duties back in her home country, so she moved and married him. After working on the plantations for a while, the couple decided to move to California, where they lived in a rural area. Their small house was made of wood that was painted red and white.

 Close by their house was a field of wheat, soybeans and tomatoes growing on vines. Or at least, that’s how it should’ve looked during a good harvest. However, the drought had done a number on the family’s crops. The beans were small and dried up, the tomatoes hardly growing at all. The family had to be careful about not spending too much money…they made some of it selling their crops at a local farmer’s market. Thankfully, their jobs allowed them to keep a house and not go broke. Other families weren’t as lucky.

  Niffty’s father was a farmer and newspaper editor and her mother worked at a sewing factory. Since Niffty’s parents were often busy with work, they hired a sitter to take care of her. The sitter was white with brown hair and green eyes, in her early 30s. She would often wear pink dresses with white polka dots on it, her mousey brown hair tied back. Although Michelle Marie Ann was Caucasian, she treated Niffty like she was her own daughter. She watched Niffty crawl, babble, and slowly take her first steps.

 “Yay, nice job!” she said in a cooing tone as Niffty took her first steps across the floor before landing in a heap in her lap.

 Michelle looked over at Akemi and Hiroto. “She’s a fast learner,” Michelle remarked. Both parents were pleased. Hiroto then went out to water what was left of the crops, while Akemi sat in a large room to get a head start on some dresses and hats.

 Niffty started crying again and Michelle rocked her gently in her lap. Michelle let out a soft sigh and carried her to a bedroom to change her diaper.

 Whenever Akemi had time to spend with Niffty, she taught her the Japanese language and etiquette.

 Niffty started learning when she was a couple years old. Her mother would sing her songs and tell her stories. The little girl loved every minute of it. Niffty’s father would smile passively at them, before returning to work or have some drinks.

 Niffty would later learn to write several Japanese characters as well, at least at home or when writing letters to distant family members.

 “Hai. Yes,” Akemi said, with a nod of her head. Niffty copied the motion. “iie. No.” She shook her head, more of a frown on her face, before Niffty copied her.

 “Onegai shimasu? What’s that?”

 Niffty answered. “Please?”

 “Very good,” Akemi said.

 Of course, Niffty had to learn several things the hard way.

 “Nerissa! iie!” Akemi scolded when a four year old Niffty had arrived into the house wearing dirty shoes. She pointed back outside and Niffty slumped back out to take her shoes off.

 “Nerissa,” called her father. “I need your help digging up some dirt out here.” Niffty raced out and grabbed a small shovel. She helped her father dig holes and seek out fresh dirt to try and plant seeds.

 At dinner time, the family had sushi, onigiri rice balls and grilled chicken skewers called yakitori. Niffty was struggling with holding chopsticks. Hiroto had to chuckle as Niffty’s sushi kept slipping from in between the wooden utensils. Niffty reached to pick it up but Akemi stopped her with a glare. Niffty kept her little hand extended, the two members locked in a sort of stare down. Niffty tried using the chop sticks in one hand before both utensils rolled off the table and clattered to the floor. Niffty grabbed the sushi and popped it into her mouth with a giggle. Akemi sighed and slapped her hand to her forehead. Hiroti rolled his eyes and helped himself to more food.

 “Nerissa, dear you still have much to learn,” her mother said as Niffty bent down to pick up the sticks.

 Akemi also showed Niffty the very important duties of cleaning the house and sewing clothing. “I work at a sewing factory,” she said. “And more than likely, you’re gonna work in a similar job if not the same. Watch closely.”

 Niffty watched in curiosity as Akemi sat down and worked both a sewing machine and used her own hands. She weaved string of different colors through loops as she moved the sewing needles around in her hands. Niffty practiced on her own, sewing together a hole in a small cotton cap to start with. She fumbled several times but slowly got used to it. Several weeks later, she had made her first scarf.

 “Quite impressive,” Akemi praised.

 Niffty had poked at her fingers several times, but they eventually toughened up. Muscle memory took over in her fingers for many of the tasks she did. The more she performed them, the easier it felt…and the faster she did them. Sewing on buttons, bows and decorations was Niffty’s favorite part. It wasn’t long before she frequently helped out her mother with sewing and cleaning the house. It became an expectation for years afterward.

 “Scrub harder, Nerissa,” Akemi said as Niffty learned how to wash dishes. “You need to really get the stains off around the bottom rim of the pot. Like this.” She grabbed a sponge and moved it rapidly up and down and in circles. Niffty laughed as she got her hands soapy and wet. On occasion, Akemi would playfully splash her with water. They would have a quick water fight with loud giggles before returning to work.

 Cleaning chimneys was Niffty’s least favorite hobby. But it was one her father insisted she do. “You’ll eventually need to learn it if you ever get a somewhat decent job,” he reminded her. Women were working more, but opportunities were still very limited for them.

 Using thick dusters and other supplies, she could easily fit into the small space. She hated how dirty she got from the soot and ash. Niffty felt like Cinderella much of the time, from the hard cleaning work she did, to fantasizing about going to a ball and meeting a prince. Imagining herself as a beautiful princess helped pass the time. The water in the wooden wash bin would be black by the time Niffty was done washing herself off. She would scrub her skin for half an hour, trying to get the grime off as much as possible.

 Niffty soon she got some exciting news at age six: she was going to school for the first time. She was soon dropped off at Wellis Elementary, a yellow brick building. While at school, Niffty excelled at literature, home economics, art, reading, writing and history. She was also a fast runner in gym class as well. Math and science were subjects she struggled with.

 Nifty would spend hours reading the books in the classrooms. She would often be seen eagerly raising her hand to tell the answer. She had to learn to slow down on whatever activity she did…many of the classmates couldn’t keep up with her!

 “Shorty Jap! Shorty Jap!” jeered a bunch of mean older kids who shoved Niffty to the floor on her way to music. Niffty cried out, tears flowing down her cheeks. A nearby teacher arrived and took her to the nurse’s office.

 “Just a bruise on your knee but it should heal up in no time,” the nurse said as Niffty wiped her tears away.

 “Why are they so mean?” she sobbed. “What did I do?”

 “Those kids are mean to all the newcomers,” the nurse said. “They tend to pick on the little kids in particular.”

 “But I’m not that little,” Niffty said. “I just turned seven!”

 “Sorry, I thought you were four.”

 Niffty lowered her face, black bangs obscuring her forehead. Her face flushed in embarrassment. Her dress was white, her leggings tight and shoes were shiny and black. Her hair was short and black, her eyes dark brown and slanted. Her skin was a light brownish or as some bullies would mock, “yellow.” Indeed, Niffty was one of the shortest people in her class. There were rumors about her having a growth stunt, but Niffty had developed physically and mentally at a fast rate. Indeed, she was smarter than many kids her age.

 “Don’t let them get to you,” the nurse said. “Now hurry on back to class.”

 Fortunately, singing and playing instruments helped Niffty forget about the incident. “I’m gonna be a singer when I grow up!” she declared much to the bemusement of her classmates.

Niffty got home to see Michelle Marie Ann smiling warmly at her, wearing a fluffy lavender dress with a purple bow around her waist. Niffty remembered to leave her shoes outside.

 “How was school?” she asked.

 “It was fine,” she replied in a monotone.

 “Only fine? You were so enthusiastic about it earlier.”

 “Mean kids were mean to me.”

 “How so? What did they do?”

 “They said I was a shorty Jap and shoved me to the ground.”

 A horrific look crossed Michelle’s face. “I’m so sorry, Nerissa,” she said.

 Her parents shared concerned looks in the distance. Sooner or later, their daughter would have to learn the hard truth about who she was and about the society they lived in.

 “It’s okay,” Niffty said. “I still got to learn new things and do the entire alphabet in English!”

 “How wonderful!” Michelle smiled. Niffty was always optimistic, ever the imaginative one. Whenever things got down, Niffty would always see the silver lining in everything.  

 “What did the kids mean when they said that stuff?”

 Michelle sighed, trying to put words together. “Let’s just say that many people don’t like others who are different.”

 Before Niffty could ask further, Michelle said,” I have a surprise for you, sweetie.”

 She dug into her dress pocket and pulled out a stuffed animal. Niffty beamed and took the figure and hugged it to her chest. It was a stuffed pink poodle decorated with white polka dots.

 “Do you like it?”

 “Oh I do I do I do!” Niffty squealed. The two of them shared a warm hug.  

 After dusting a bookshelf, vacuuming the rugs and polishing several appliances, Niffty soon got ready for bed. Michelle tucked her into bed. Hiroto was passed out on the couch and Akemi was up in her room finishing up outfits to sell.

 “Can you read me a story?” Niffty asked.

 “Of course my dear,” Michelle answered. “Which one?”

 Niffty pointed to an orange picture book. “That’s one of my favorites.”

 Michelle picked it up and read the title. “Princess Hachikazuki.”

 Niffty cuddled up in her sitter’s lap as Michelle began. It was like she was transported to another world.

 In the story, Lord and Lady Sanetaka prayed to the bodhisattva of mercy to give them an heir. The beautiful princess was born. The mother became sick and before she passed away, she placed a bowl on the princess’s head. The princess threw herself in a river when people laughed at her but soon, a prince fell in love with her. Although her rival stepsisters tried to separate them, Hachikazuki’s bowl came off of her head, allowing her to win a ladies contest. The couple happily married and the princess was reunited with her father.

 “Oh I just love happy endings!” Niffty beamed as Michelle closed the book.

 A year later, Michelle told her a story that seemed to stay with her. It would be the last story the sitter ever told.

 “Read me a story, please?” Niffty asked.

 “But it’s your bed time, Nerissa,” she said. “You’re getting old for this, according to your parents.”

 “Please? Please? Please?” the little girl pleaded with shining eyes.

 Michelle gave in with a smile. She knew Niffty would always be a child at heart. “Alright, but just one.”

 She cleared her throat.

 “Once upon a time in a vast kingdom, there lived a beautiful blonde haired princess. She lived in a palace with her father and mother, the king and queen. While she was there, she was taught how to sing, play the violin, dance and how to rule with a firm hand. The king and queen loved to perform for their subjects. They would host grand balls for the nobility and invite the well-off to join the fun. There were jesters, jugglers, and an array of delicious food for them to enjoy. All in all the princess was very happy, surrounded by the music.”

 “But as she got older, she learned more about the land she was in. Her father had enforced strict rules on his subjects, and for good reason. Although the peasants, knights, shop owners and caretakers worked hard, they also fought a lot. It wasn’t uncommon for farmers to fight over crops, or fellow knights to raid churches and villages. Disease also spread rapidly.”

 “One day, the princess saw a horrific sight. Soldiers from a rival kingdom arrived and mercilessly slaughtered the citizens! The knights in armor were no match for the guns. After the damage had been done, those who remained had to dispose of the dead and start over, always in fear that they would come again.”

 “Father,” cried the princess. “How could you let this happen?!”

 “My army is no match for the soldier’s guns,” he replied. “They invade and kill my people for the sake of it. But there is nothing that can be done. Perhaps the troublesome workers deserved their fate.”

 “Mother!” the princess cried. “Can’t you do something as well? Those poor people suffer every day out there!”

 But the queen was busy deciding which dress to wear for the next performance.

The princess tried to talk to the people around her, offering to help in any way she could. Many of them laughed and mocked her.

 “A secluded princess trying to help us out?” they asked. “Who does she think she is? She doesn’t know anything at all.”

 Fortunately, the princess befriended a woman warrior to help her out. The woman could live off the land and use any kind of weapon, but she had a bad temper at times. The princess had an idea.

 “What if I run a refuge place to help travelers and my people get along? If not that, then at least, the poor would have a place to stay.” Her warrior friend agreed to help, provided she not get too optimistic about the iffy plan. The king and queen used some of their money to build the building by the trading route, just so they could focus on their own hobbies. They, too, didn’t agree with her ideas. The princess was saddened by her ignorant parents.

 One traveler soon arrived, a man who smoked, drank and often ran around nude. He slept with women and men alike. He was a reckless fighter as well, and had almost died fighting off rival knights on the battlefield. The princess happily welcomed him in, but the warrior wasn’t as pleased. It was slow going, but it was a start.

 Now, the king had many lords and men in his inner circle. One of them was a man who lived in the woods and hunted deer. He often wore a dark cloak and carried a staff with a deer skull on it. But he was also a devious trickster. He was feared throughout the land because of his great skill in dark sorcery. Many people had fallen prey to his curses, poor and wealthy alike…he loved making deals.

 When the sorcerer saw that the princess was opening the place of refuge, he decided to check it out. He already had a plan to get to know the members of the royal family…having a secret grudge against them. Before he did, he gathered two people to his side. One of them was a strong muscular fighter…and the best gambler in town.

 “Your skills in gambling and fighting are second to none,” the sorcerer said, soon gathering up lies. “I could use a strong hand like you. Those horrible soldiers killed my wife and children and I’m worried that I’ll be next.”

 “I’m not helping you,” the gambler scoffed as he drank more booze and drinks. “Why didn’t you use your magic?”

 “The soldiers weren’t affected by it and now…I’m left with nothing...”

 “But if you work for me, I’ll give you more drinks and money. Plus if you’re looking for a nicer place to stay, the princess has a refuge center not too far from here.”

 Reluctantly, the gambler shook the sorcerer’s hand and followed him.

 Later, the sorcerer spotted a maid who was cleaning chimneys and caring for a bunch of children.

 “You look like you’re pretty busy,” the sorcerer said. “Cleaning the same dirty place all the time sounds boring.”

 “It is,” the maid said. “And lonely. There are no handsome men around either.”

 The sorcerer then spoke in a smooth seductive tone. “It doesn’t have to be this way. Why, if you help me out, I’ll provide you with a clean house and introduce you to the most handsome of men in the kingdom. I’ll be your first friend if you wish.”

 The maid eagerly shook his hand, and the trio went off to the hotel. Once they arrived, the princess welcomed them in with open arms.

 “I’d love to help out with your place, your majesty,” the sorcerer said with an elegant bow. “Trying to make people better…that’s near impossible, but hey, it’s worth a shot.”

 The sorcerer charmed the princess with dances and magic tricks. With a snap of his fingers, the place was repaired and clean. She soon became attracted to him. The man even made a splendid dinner for everyone to enjoy.

 “He’s untrustworthy,” the warrior woman warned the princess. “I’m your best friend but please be careful.”

 “Don’t worry,” the princess said. “I can take care of myself.” She hoped that her plan would work…and hoped she could prove herself worthy to her parents.

 Then, on the next fateful day…”

 “Nerissa!” called Akemi from down the hall. “It’s time to go to sleep!”

 “She’s right,” Michelle said as she closed the book in a heart stopping snap.

 “Awww, Michelle! Mother! You can’t stop there! We were getting to the good part!”

 “Maybe another time,” said Michelle as she tucked Niffty into bed. “Good night, dear.” Michelle’s footsteps grew fainter as she left the room.

 Nifty stared at the starry sky and the full moon though her window. “Maybe my dreams will come true someday,” she sang softly to herself with a smile and a look of longing.

 “A dream is a wish, my heart makes

When I’m fast asleep.

In dreams, I will lose my heartaches

Whatever I wish for, I keep

 “Have faith in dreams and someday

My rainbow will come smiling through

No matter how my heart is grieving

If I keep on believing

The dream that I wish will come true.”

 Niffty yawned after she finished the song and settled into sleep.

                                        Yellow Peril: Chinese workers arrive to U.S. mid 19th century, restricted to railroads and mines. Anti-Chinese groups worked to pass laws to limit Asian American equality with whites. Like Irish, Italians, Chinese and Japanese were viewed as threats to “racial purity” and a source of economic competition.

1886-1924 peak: People immigrating from Japan to find work to survive. Many arrived on Hawaiian Islands, moving to the West Coast. Immigrants selecting brides from their immigrant countries via a matchmaker who paired them only using pictures and family recommendations. Some women choose to be picture brides to escape familial duties and seek economic growth. Some came to Hawaii because it was a trend. Picture brides immigrated to the U.S. to be with husbands. Men would often pose in pictures with cars and items they did not own.

Nakodo: go between/match maker who looks at status, age, wealth of bride

 Pucture brides had to go through immigration inspections. They would meet their soon to be husbands and attend a wedding ceremony on the docks.

Reality: older grooms living in racially segregated plantations

  Plantation workers, many Japanese women. Irrigated and weeded the fields, stripped cane of dry leaves, or cut seed cane. Women were also expected to take care of the house, cooking, cleaning, sewing and raising children. Many women moved to Honolulu to start their own businesses.

 Values instilled to children included filial piety, obligation to community and authority, reciprocal obligation, importance of hard work, frugality, drive for success (seiko).

 Some married husbands were abusive or alcoholic or tried to sell women into brothels but many wives stayed for their children. Wives who eloped could be sent back to Japan.

 No passports to picture brides in 1920.

   Naturalization Act of 1870: revoking citizenship to Chinese Americans

 Chinese Exclusion Act of 1882: stopped immigration from China

 Japanese workers recruited, triggering a rapid increase in population.

 Immigration Act of 1924: banned Japanese and Chinese from entering U.S.

  Japantowns (Nihonmachi) in San Francisco, Los Angeles, Seattle etc. community groups organized charity events and set up shops separate from whites, Japanese language schools.

  Pearl Harbor attack 1941: led the United States into World War 2. Americans, French, England, unified to fight against Germany, Japan and Italy.

Kamikaze suicide bombings, Pearl Harbor, Baatan Death March, American POWs killed by Imperial Japanese forces

 “Jap hunting licenses” Japanese forced to move away and close their businesses.

 Stereotype of Japanese and schools as loyal to the emperor of Japan, promoting racial superiority and violent fighting skills.

 1942: Japanese incarcerated in camps “War Relocation Camps” western U.S, 1942-1946 “one blood drop rule”

    Jan 1942: immigrants required to have certificates and IDs on them

 Unfavorable reports of Japanese action noticed by the U.S. government, (Pearl Harbor, Invasion of China 1931).

 Thin barracks with little room for privacy, barbed wire fences and guards.

(shikata ga nai) “It cannot be helped.” School lessons only taught in Englsih. Dust storms, cramped living conditions. There was baseball, bands and recreation.

Internment ends 1945/1946

Japanese businesses, homes and places of worship were destroyed with vandalism, gunshots and explosives. Some people were shot in the camps while others died from lack of medical care.

 Niffty lives her life as a Japanese American woman and teenager in the 1950s. She is little, with short black hair and pale skin. She is born in the 1920s…on March 22 (VA birthdate), 1929 (Year of the Snake)! Being the same age as Vaggie when she died at age 22, Niffty died in 1951. She is a human named Nerissa Nifuti (after the maid. Her last name is Niffty in Japanese).

 March 22 1929: Niffty’s birth in Los Angeles, California, as Nerissa Nifuti. (Capital city based on New Orleans, New York and Las Vegas populous cities of the former homelands of the other characters)

1930: age 1

 1931: age 2

 1932: age 3

 1933: age 4

 1934: age 5

 1935: age 6

 Niffty briefly lives with her parents in a rural area. Picture bride mother who arrived from Japan and to Hawaii and worked on a plantation, older alcoholic father who lived in Hawaii.

 1930s: Niffty learns to walk and talk and speak Japanese and English. She always removes her shoes whenever she enters her home and other buildings. She is fast in almost everything, crawling early, babbling early, very talkative and quick on her feet. Niffty is a fast learner as well, often ahead of her class. Niffty learns best by working with her hands. Niffty develops her love of reading and writing.

 At some point, Niffty’s father becomes abusive to both of them but Niffty’s mother has to stay to uphold her family honor.

 1936: age 7 Niffty starts school. Niffty is often chided for talking so fast and not being passive

  Niffty is bullied in Weill school for her heritage and short height. Niffty excels at literature, running, music, singing, arts and crafts, reading and writing, but not at math, sports, science or history.

  1937: age 8 With being a good housewife instilled in her at an early age, Niffty begins to clean and cook and sew early on, while also looking for the perfect husband in the future.

 1938: age 9

 1939: age 10 World War 2 begins

 Niffty reads mangas and starts writing her own stories while maintaining a clean house for her family. They also have a black poodle named Michelle.

 1940: age 11

 1941: age 12

 1942: age 13

 1942: Year of Death. Niffty and her parents are sent to an internment camp. Manzanar Relocation Center. Niffty’s father is shot for trying to escape and her mother dies of an illness at an infirmary. The walls are thin and barracks are overcrowded.

  1943: age 14

 1944: age 15 Niffty is often surrounded by the stench of death. She eats like an animal and longs to be free.

 1945: age 16

Niffty’s father is shot for trying to escape and her mother falls ill and dies in a makeshift infirmary. Niffty remains in the camp until 1945, finishing schooling and joining the band. Niffty has to live with several other families and children in cramped spaces. The lessons were only taught in English. Niffty falls in love with several boys. Niffty meets one nice one but he eventually leaves with his family, leaving Niffty behind.

 Niffty returns to her home town with nothing to return to. She finds Japanese businesses, homes and places of worship destroyed with vandalism, gunshots and explosives.

 By sheer luck, she is able to live and work for an upper class white family as a maid, cook and a person who sews their clothes. The mother is racist toward her but not the father nor the older sister, who tolerate her.

 1946: age 17 Niffty is visited by Alastor through a radio. He offers her mangas, appreciation for her work and a new “perfect” boyfriend/husband, plus a radio. She agrees to help him out later on, but she gets more than what she bargained for.

 1947: age 18 Niffty gets married to her boyfriend but still works for the family.

 1948: age 19 Niffty’s husband starts hitting on Niffty’s white adoptive sister. Niffty’s adoptive parents make her do even more work since she is so good at it. Niffty’s fanfictions are read by others and starts attracting horny older men.

 1949: age 20

 1950: age 21 Niffty’s husband beats and violates her, though Niffty still remains in love with him. She lets him violate her, feeling more and more broken and helpless. One part lasted three hours, leaving her feeling sticky and disgusting.

 Niffty asks the radio for advice and it influences her to do evil things. Jealous of her adoptive sister’s beauty and attention to her husband, Niffty kills her and cleans up the mess, serving her flesh in meat pies to neighbors.

 During one evening on the streets, a horrified Niffty glances at a man violating a corpse of a woman and stabs him to death. She darts away before she can be caught.  

 1951: age 22 The trauma Niffty faces catches up and she snaps. Niffty kills her husband as he tried to rape and stab her and sets his house on fire. At the same time, she cries over the loss of him. She writes about it in a journal, which is discovered by the mother. This draws attention to the police, the father had called them earlier.

 Niffty gets cornered by police inside her home. One of them is a relative of her husband. Niffty tries to run but gets shot three times in the thigh. Before anyone could do anything, the officer picks her up and tosses her into a burning fireplace, where she dies.

   1951: Niffty arrives in Hell, lost and overwhelmed. One demon, a black spider named Rhapso hires her to work at a clothing Emporium. Niffty is beaten and chided for every little mistake she makes, every loose thread, driving her toward perfection like in life. Niffty also has to clean her boss’s room and cook meals. Out of sheer spite, Niffty steals and wears an elegant dress made of black swan feathers, sizing it down to fit her small body. Her boss threatens to roast her in the furnace but as she is immune to fire says “Let’s say you’re in deep hot water, brat.”

 Niffty is thrown into the burning lake as punishment. Niffty plunges to the bottom of the lake, unable to breach the surface as sinners sink to the bottom instead of floating like in regular water. Though Niffty can survive in hot places, the heat and pressure becomes uncomfortable. There are also fiery underwater monsters to avoid. Niffty often has nightmares of her boyfriend sending her into an icy lake to drown, or watching her parents suffer at the internment camp. There is no way for her to interact with the world, make friends and no one to fall in love with. She dreaded having to be forcefully pulled from the surface by her boss and be forced to work more long shifts.

 Until one demon is alerted by her presence…

 After having signed the contract on Earth, Niffty’s presence is sensed by Alastor’s shadow. The shadow reaches in and picks up Niffty, the little demon gasping for breath. Then, she meets Alastor. Alastor reminds Niffty of the deal she had made in the living world and invites her to shake his hand to seal it. Niffty is eager to do so, already enamored by the Radio Demon’s charm.

 Niffty’s boss comes back and demands Niffty go back to work, but Alastor says he would take Niffty instead. Niffty sets her boss and store on fire for revenge, entertaining Alastor. Niffty calls herself Niffty.

 Niffty soon works for Alastor, making his meals, cleaning his cabin-like lair underground (Deer’s Den) (plus his above ground smaller radio studio cabin), sewing voodoo dolls and tailoring his suits. She also is handy in fighting as she is immune to fire, speedy, skillful with her hands and can fit into small places. In exchange, Alastor gives her a place to stay, money, some journals and clothing for her hobbies, plus voodoo creatures for her to eat and play with.

 Niffty is soon summoned from the fireplace and gets to work cleaning the hotel rooms and helping make meals for the hotel residents. Niffty writes erotic fanfiction and sews in her spare time. Along with Husk, Niffty protects Alastor and helps kill his enemies.

 Niffty starts an Instagram account under the name babyfeatherduster. She is seen posing at Alastor’s feet, hanging out with Husk and trying to take Alastor’s picture. People mistake her for a child, even though she is in her 20s.

 Niffty’s true intentions would eventually be revealed. Niffty seeks to be doted on by lots of men, and she lives in a fantasy world of her own. And she’ll use any means necessary to make the world of Hell her own. (she might manipulate men into sleeping with her). Niffty shares traits with Charlie from Always Sunny. Niffty loves erotic stuff and that includes fanfictions, pictures and maybe spying on nude men. She has pica, eating stuff like spiders and fabric. Although Niffty likes to get lost in fantasy and romance, she may be the most socially aware member of the group. She can also manipulate people and knows about Hell’s racist/class driven system. Her delusions of authority and emotions hide a sense of insecurity. Like Charlie from Always Sunny, Niffty is good at sewing, cooking, singing and music.

[fairiesherefairiesthere]

HAY. djwkf Can I maybe request 'Shit, how'd you make me blush like this?' (bc there needs to be more flustered Laxus) or 'Right.. Well.. I'm not sure how we ended up kissing like that.. ' for Fraxus?

Hello!! Here you go, both of the phrases are in it ! Fraxus fic under the cut

Watching the seconds tick away isn't an activity that Laxus is in any way, shape or form fond of, but he finds solace in the knowledge that eventually, the time for him to be released from this hellish place will arrive. He's the youngest in the room and now that the meeting is over, the old people have found a new form of entertainment in bothering him.

Curse his grandfather for demanding him to come along. Hell, the man hadn't even decided yet who'd become the next master. Technically, there's no reason whatsoever for Laxus to be here and to be ribbed as though he's their communal annoying nephew. He isn't.

Of course, it turns to the topic of dating. Laxus suspects that these people have got nothing going for them in their respective personal lives, so they're vigorously trying to live through him. When asked if there's anyone he's interested in, he plans to firmly deny by simply grunting. His mouth betrays him however, and before he knows it, he's adding fuel to the fire.

"Dunno." Oh. Oh no. He's opened the gates towards the possibility of old people giving him horrible advice and they are jumping at the opportunity. "That's not a no", Babasaama feels the need to say, grin adorning her face and Laxus shoots his grandfather a face that essentially says "please help me". His grandfather artfully ignores it, throwing dirt on the hole that Laxus dug himself into. Betrayal sure tastes good in the morning, especially served with a side dish of unpleasantness.

"Attraction is weird", is the answer he settles on, deciding that it's both vague and definitive enough to satisfy these hawks. It doesn't, so he tries to talk himself out of it. He really should've known better, should've been more self-aware. Although he's best friends with a master of words, he himself is anything but.

"You know...", he fumbles, "Or rather you don't, well I don't. What's love like? Like, strangers never really appeal to me. People who go on dates and say it was nice are definitely liars. Love is a bit of a scam, I think."

"Love doesn't have to be new and exciting, darling boy. Most of the time, it's comfort, a stability you build together." Although the added wink isn't necessary, the point master Bob tries to bring across does make sense. "Like home in a person", he states and immediately one person pops up in his mind. When he looks at the geezers, he can see that they're picking up on it. In return, the heat in his face gets worse and he scowls at them.

"Alright, that's enough", Makarov mercifully cuts in. "I'm taking my brat home. Laxus, kiss your aunts and uncles goodbye." Rolling his eyes, Laxus manages to somewhat politely nod at all of them. "Last time I checked, none of them are related to us."

"Family is in the heart, brat."

"If I have to cram that much people into it, I'll die."

"Too late, they're already there."

They keep bickering until they have to part ways. "See ya this evening. Freed invited you for a nice family dinner or something." Makarov raises a brow. "My grandson-in-law works harder for this family than you and I do. I'll be there."

The little 'grandson-in-law' comment doesn't really hit Laxus until he's stepping over the treshold of his own home. Deciding to put that thought aside, he enters the living room. " 'M home", he mumbles and lays eyes on Freed, settled comfortably on his couch. Seeing Laxus, he smiles. "Welcome home."

After that, he resumes tugging at the strings of his guitars and sings the sweet lullaby that Evergreen is very fond of. He seems to be completely unbothered by Laxus' presence. His green hair is loose and partly draped over his shoulder, the waterfall of silken strands effortlessly establishing a picture of elegance. The seamless image of elegance is continued in the man's whole posture, loose but dignified nonetheless.

Freed as a whole, is a work of beauty that Laxus finds himself appreciating at this very moment. As he lays his head down on Freed's shoulder, he marvels at Freed's muscled frame. Usually his form tends to be hidden by layers of clothes, masking brutal strength in a nice package. Most things about Freed are like that, deceptive. His hands are unblemished, nails manicured and taken care of. Once turned around, his palms are rough and calloused.

His manner of speech is to the point, effective and refined. That refinement easily turns into harsh word that shape an even harsher reality, if he so wishes. In eyes clearer than the bluest of skies, lurks a darkness that no storm Laxus could ever muster would compare to. Handsome, socially graceful, polished in both skill and manners, friendly (if he wishes to be so), smart... Freed truly is the sort of man that many only could wish to be.

"What are you thinking so deeply about?" Freed asks, halting his musical endeavours to place Laxus head in his lap, playing with his hair. Staring up at the man, Laxus finds himself momentarily unable to answer, reddening instead. "Ah shit, look at this." He covers his eyes with his arms and Freed, not known for being merciful, laughs at him. "How'd you make me blush like this?" he asks faux-accusingly.

"It's rather easy", Freed grins and the sight of it makes Laxus' heart skip a beat and his blush gets worse. "See?" Freed points out. "I think you're just easily affected by me", he continues smugly and Laxus makes a face at him. "Am I now?" he challenges the man, already knowing he's going to lose.

"I don't know", Freed hums, dragging his pointer finger from Laxus' jawline all the way down his chest, where he rests the finger. Laxus' breath stutters and the fingers drags back up, slow and tantalising, forming a hook under his chin and tilting it upwards. As Freed demands heavy and loaded eyecontact from him, he smirks. "But I like to think you are." He bows down, breath hot and heavy against the side of Laxus' neck as he whispers : "Wouldn't you agree?" in his ear.

When Freed draws back only to give him a charming smile and demands him to kiss him, Laxus doesn't even hesitate. He wants to convey as much worship and sensual heat as humanly possible, but doesn't really know how to. Luckily for him Freed is there, taking the lead and making his life easier as always. It's not purely the mouth-on-mouth part that makes his head spin (though that definitely contributes to it), it's mostly the tiny gasps that escape them as they reconnect, trying to leave as little time between kisses as possible. It's the moments where their eyes meet and say more than words ever could, the hand Freed has on the back of his neck, steady and sure. It's his cologne, it's the feeling of his other hand travelling wherever it could reach. The feeling of his own hands on the man's hips, in his hair. It's everything and somehow more than that.

Once they've calmed a bit down, he murmurs a bit out of breath : "Right...well...I'm not sure how we ended up kissing like that." Freed, who has decided that Laxus' chest makes for a nice pillow, flops around so they lay chest on chest. "Meetings with the elderly has never been particularly arousing, but if that's what gets you going...", the bastard trails off, smirk evident in both his voice and on his face. "You're a little shit", Laxus tells him and Freed laughs at that. "And I love you", he adds. "I see that you have your priorities sorted out", Freed dryly bemuses before kissing the tip of Laxus' nose. "I love you too."

[amethystlogan]

Tangled AU - Chapter One

I wrote this last week, finally getting a chance to type it up. Hope you guys enjoy it. Btw, I’m going to put warnings and tags as they apply to each chapter from now on, as opposed to trying to generalize the story.

Summary - Virgil and Patton chill out in the tower doing all of the things, and Roman kicks off the plot by being an idiot, but a lovable one.

Pairings - no romantic ones that are relevant to this chapter in particular.

Warnings - again nothing in this chapter, although one bit could be implied unsympathetic Janus? Just in case?

Links to Prologue

18 years post-prologue 

Virgil’s POV

Virgil slowly crept up to the windowsill, practically tip-toeing, before throwing open the shutters, yelling, “HAH!” He looked around, spotting his small green friend hiding, frozen in the foliage of the plants sitting out in the sun. “Huh,” said Virgil, “I guess Patton’s not hiding out here...” He trailed off, walking a few feet away, looping a strand of his hair subtly over the hook in the wall. He could hear Patton snickering in a low croak before - “Gotcha!” as he catches him in his hair and lifts him out of the plants.

 “That’s twenty-two for me,” Virgil commented as he lowered Patton to the window sill and unlooped his hair, tying it back with the simple purple ribbon he kept in his pocket. “How ‘bout twenty-three out of forty-five?” Patton just stared at him, tongue poked out in a bored blep. “Alright, what do you want to do?” Patton ribbited excitedly, then shot out his tongue in the direction of the hidden cave entrance. ‘Oh, no. Not happening. We’re safe in there and you know it.” Virgil scolded, nodding his head back inside. Patton pouted, blepping again. “Come on, Patt. You can’t cute your way into getting your way with this one. Besides, it’s not so bad in there.” Virgil scooped Patton into his hands, rolling off of the ledge into the tower. “We already finished all of the cleaning and stuff this morning. We could read some more, or paint. I could work more on knitting that blanket, or practice that guitar solo?” Patton just shrugged at him.

He ended up doing all of it, re-reading the same old novels, epics, and books of poetry, finishing several rows of knitting, and playing the guitar until his fingertips hurt. As he cooked lunch, he found himself gazing wistfully out of the window before catching himself. He shook his head, he needed to snap out of it. Daydreaming would only lead to disappointment, or worse, danger. He needed to focus on what he could do, what he did have, what he’d been given. After all, his father worked hard to provide him with things to do up here, all the while keeping him safe.

So, after lunch, Virgil busied himself with even more vigor. He put together a puzzle, beat Patton at darts sixteen out of thirty, and baked cookies, much to Patton’s delight. They played chess, tried some pottery, which turned into a mess. He tried candle making, with only slightly more success. He cleared some room to do stretches, after sitting on the floor through his crafting endeavors, then spent some time sketching Patton in increasingly humorous poses. He took some time to weave his hair into a web in the rafters, getting a good climb in the process, but slightly unnerving Patton, who wasn’t overly fond of spiders. They stole his flies, and their webs got everywhere.

Virgil then spent a lot of time brushing and re-tying his hair. It had a tendency to get in his way a lot, so when he wasn’t using it, it helped to keep it tied back. Well, except when his father was home. Janus seemed to be more irritable if Virgil had his hair tied back, but seemed to be softer when he had it loose, hiding his smaller frame. Once, when he was about fourteen, he got so fed up with it and, in a moment of youthful rebellion against his father, he broke one of the white shells Janus had brought him and cut the hair off that often fell in front of his face. Janus’ reaction to his new, black bangs had been... less than pleasant. So now when his father was around, he kept his hair loose and brushed forward to keep the bangs as out of sight as possible.

Virgil rolled his shoulders and neck, and stretched out his back after brushing the last few strands. His eyes caught on the arch decoration on the mantle, and Patton watched the gears turning in his eyes as he went to grab his paints and climbed up on the mantle, shoving the arch aside and behind the curtains.

. . .

Roman’s POV

Roman stood on the roof of the castle, holding onto a chimney and gazing out over the kingdom. It was a truly breathtaking sight, and he couldn’t help but sigh in awe. “Wow, I could get used to a view like this.” The breeze tostled his hair, and he breathed deeply, enjoying the morning, and it’s endless possibilities. “Alec, come on!” Well, almost endless. “Hold on... Yep, I’m used to it. Guys, I want a castle.” One of the ruffians he’d mistakenly allied himself with only sneered at him. “We do this job, you can buy your own castle.” 

They grabbed him by the back of his collar and lowered him slowly down through a hole in the roofing tiles by a rope around his waist. When he reached the pedestal where the missing Prince’s crown rested on a cushion, he carefully lifted the crown, and rested his elbow on the cushion. He contemplated the crown for a moment before placing it lopsided on his own head. Roman smirked as he surveyed the ring of oblivious guards with their backs turned to him. One of them sneezed. “Oh, hay fever?” asked Roman, conversationally, while examining his nails. “Yeah,” replied the guard, wiping his nose and settling back into formation. Idiots. “Huh? Wait, wait! Hey, wait!” The guards turned, and started shouting, only to see Roman disappearing back through the roof, crown in hand. 

He quickly stowed the crown in his satchel as he and his partners booked it off the roof and through the streets of the kingdom. “Can’t you picture me in a castle of my own? I mean, I certainly can,” Roman rambled easily, outpacing the other two on the bridge that lead to the forest on the outskirts of the kingdom. “Oh, the things we’ve seen and it’s only eight in the morning. Gentlemen, this is a very big day!”

[d00dt00nz]

Obligatory promo stuff at the top because it sucks and I hate it and let’s get it out of the way! follow me on twitter where I’m active, check me out on spotify for music, or like my facebook for sparse updates on music stuff. Thank you. The Cover art is by Ellie Tison

Okay!! Last song!!

Well, I say last song, but it's more like “last song”. There is one more song that I used as an epilogue, but I'm not going to get into that, and honestly if you've listened to 13 tracks without being sold (why would you do that?) one more track isn't going to sell you on it.

And would you look at that, the last song is a reprise of the first song. Wow, it's like Sgt Pepper... that's so cool. Now it makes sense why I didn't bother talking about that first song right? Not planned btw.

This song was one of the first songs I wrote for this album. I said this for a few. Truthfully I did four or so around the same time and they were all great. I had a few more tracks in the oven as well. Everything was going great. I was like “wow this album's gonna be done in no time!” Anyway that was like three or four years ago. I guess that's how these things tend to go.

This is back when I was trying to make a bit more of a straight ahead rock/indie rock sounding album. I'm pretty sure I wrote this song on guitar, lyrics and all, which is honestly (and sadly) pretty rare for me these days. I had this idea for repeated backing vocals and a call/response sort of song structure. I'm pretty sure this more energetic version of the song came first. I originally wanted a sort of Lou Reed feel to it, but once I wrote that groovy dancy bass riff it immediately lost that feel. Once I started recording electric guitars I accidentally did a grungy “brrroww” at the end of the phrase and really liked it. I replicated it throughout the track and in turn lost even more of that Lou Reed feel.

In my original recording process I had a damaged patchcord. I didn't realize it at first because I was trying out some new equipment. I just thought it was really quiet. That being the case, I had to turn it up way loud to get a good volume and that's actually where some of the guitar tone you can hear (mainly in the one playing a melody-line during the chorus) comes from. I actually really liked it, I thought it sounded like Pavement. Actually, my Tiff did too and that's probably the nicest thing she's ever said about any of my music.

At some point I added more guitar tracks to the track to make it sound fuller, and also replace some of the ones recorded with a broken patchcord. I honestly kinda liked the original tracks, which still had a little bit of that 70s glam grittiness to them, but I'm far too neurotic about this stuff to really sit with that. In the end it sounded less 70s and more mid 90s. It had a sound that I've actually been trying to get for a while, though not on this track – the sort of fuzzy swirling guitars with a groovy beat and bassline to it. Tiff described it as being “Like those music videos where everything is blue and everyone's got really baggy pants”, which, again, big compliment. I don't know if that one was actually a compliment, but I'll take what I can get.

The song had its genesis at that same party I mentioned last time. There's nothing specific really. We had my album on and it's got a pretty fun cool first half. The people there were enjoying it, but then it gets to the second half and it's a little bit more mopey. It's also completely sexless and uncool throughout. That being the case, one of the guys there was like

“Sorry Con-dog, the vibes are just not working with this right now,”

and I was like,

“Oh don't worry about it, I understand dude,”

And then he was like, “Right on man. I’m getting fucked vibes from those guys over there. Here, hit this for me.”

And then I did some coke off a Pulp Fiction VHS tape.

I thought to myself, “man it'd be nice to have music that you could put on at a party”. Which basically was the whole idea behind this album, conscious or not. I don't really know if it succeeded, but there's definitely a certain kind of party where this would play, and honestly I don't think I'd mind being at it.

The album was originally going to be more centered around the idea of the character described in this track. I mean, obviously he's me, but I'm trying to detach myself and make things a little more universal. I wanted to explore all the different traits and behaviors that this one person has. Some of them being mine, and some of them being not. Honestly, it didn't really pull through to the end. There's a little bit of that in here, but it's mostly just songs. I'm okay with that. They have some thematic cohesion. It's got this song bookending the album. Wow, it's like Sgt. Pepper.....

The ending is a little bit embarrassing for me because I do a bit of a scream voice, which, honestly I don't think there's anything actively wrong with it, I just cringe when I hear myself doing it because it's like “ah oh god I'm doing that”. I don't know. There's also the fact that, well, one of the things I yell is the word “Wasteman”, which is a little bit of an outdated slang right now, but when I actually recorded the song it wasn't. Whatever, this is an insanely white album from a white kid. I figure a lot of people who enjoy this type of music haven't actually heard that word. I wouldn't have, but I hang out with Tiff's cool friends sometimes. Honestly I think it's a cool term. I think the most embarrassing part though is I copy-pasted it so it repeats twice because I felt like I wanted more intensity. I don't think it's super noticeable, but the idea makes it a little disingenuous. During the outro I wanted to add a little more of that “90s blue and baggy” feel, so I plugged in a keyboard and freaked out on the organ setting. I think it really adds a lot.

The slower version of the song was written afterwards and I actually cheat because it uses some of the same midi tracks. I was super torn between the more exciting sound that I had and my original “vision” for the song, which was a bit more downtempo Lou-Reed inspired. I figured, why not do both?

There's not a whole lot to cover here that I haven't already covered. Mostly the backing vocals, but only because I think I did a worse job with them than the other version. There's nothing outwardly wrong with them per-se, but I think the blend is not good and that's gonna immediately stick out to some people. The middle section just kinda came about because the other version doesn't really have a proper chorus. It just has some guitar noodling. I played around with the chord progression of the middle chorus in the fast version and made something that was a bit more structured, then adapted a melody around it. Harmonies grew out of the melody. I felt like something was missing, so I took that same call and response idea from earlier and applied it here too. I really liked the interplay between the two vocal lines. The “Purify me” line was originally supposed to come up again and again throughout the album. One of the tracks that ALMOST made it would have been the song it was from, and then there would be callbacks to the melody throughout the album. It was kind of like a motif. That was unfortunately completely scrapped and this is the last trace of it. Maybe I'll work the idea into something I do in the future.

I like this song. I realized way too late that it massively rips off The Velvet Underground's Sweet Jane. I guess that “Lou Reed inspired” idea was a little bit too literal. Fortunately I would say the middle section saves it from being too much of a copy. I think it's a good way to start and finish the album. I also like the thematic notions of this album starting with the same track it ends on. Like these things work in cycles and you're never truly free of your own quicksand. Like an Ouroboros eating its own tail, like Sgt Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band. When one cycle ends, a new begins. The same, but slightly different – until it is completely undermined by the epilogue track that says “no this is actually the end”.

Hey congrats on making it through all of these entries! You may have only read this one, or even skipped to the end. If you did that, disregard that previous sentence and go back to read them. This album was the culmination of a lot of work and thought. 13 of these writeups was nothing compared to probably hundreds of hours spent working on this album, and probably thousands of hours thinking about it. I'm aware few people are reading these writeups, but it's honestly mostly my own indulgence. I gotta decompress this stuff and be free of this album. I can finally get rid of all this useless crap in my brain. I'll probably enjoy being able to go back and read this stuff once I've forgotten most of this, and once I've become a more mature person. I'll probably go “wow this shit is cringe. I can't believe he posted like 22 pages of cringe” but that's okay. The album's okay. I made for certain it was not, in fact, cringe before releasing it. And honestly I enjoyed writing these.

A part of me wants to get back to the freakish pace I had in like 2011 where this blog was nonstop content. I don't think it'd work so well in 2020 Tumblr because who even uses this site anymore? I think it's a little sad because it's pretty much the death of long form posting. Twitter is great because people pay attention to you, but sometimes I just want to write like two thousand words and have some psycho actually read them and respond to it. I think we've lost that on the internet. Sometimes I think of making youtube videos, but I'm no good in front of a camera. Sometimes I wonder, couldn't I just read something like this TO the camera? The answer is no, I can't. That'd be boring. I'm completely convinced nobody would watch that. I sometimes think that if I could add some editing and some visual component though, it'd work out. Some sort of... video essay. Some kind of... man with facial hair and left leaning politics who enjoys media and talks about both... Wow I wonder if that niche has been filled at all?

[the--blackdahlia]

The Hunters Chapter 9

Title: The Hunters Chapter 9

Summary: What happens when four idiots get together? Nikki's looking for his dad. Tommy's trying to get out of his mom's shadow. Vince is along for the ride. And Mick is just trying to keep them alive. Which is harder than it sounds when then Winchesters join the fray.

Warnings: Language, violence, m/m smut, canon divergence, character deaths (temporarily), wincest if you squint (may add more tags as I go)

Check out my Patreon for more chapters!

“Here,” Nikki handed Mick a flashlight from the trunk of the car. After staying in town for a bit, Nikki and Mick had headed off to wait for nightfall at a motel not too far away. Once dusk hit, they headed towards the apple orchard to go look for any sign of the missing hunter.

“Salt guns?” Mick asked. “Or do we want silver?”

“I’ve got silver in my pistol,” Nikki showed Mick a beautiful, silver Smith & Wesson. “And I’m taking a machete, just in case. I’ll have you man the salt gun.”

“Got it,” Mick nodded and stepped back as Nikki closed the trunk. The two headed into the dense trees. “Okay, I’m from Indiana, and I went to apple orchards in the places where there are supposed to be apple orchards. And they don’t look like this.”

“There’s something not right about this place. I can feel it in the air,” Nikki told him, making Mick nod in agreement. The two headed down the trail through the orchard, looking for any sign of Dean anywhere. They came to a small clearing.

“Shh,” Nikki heard a man say. He heard a soft whimper of fear as him and Mick rounded the bales of hay that were stacked.

“Sixx?” Nikki smirked and looked at Dean. “Oh fuck, I am so glad to see you.”

“Long time no see Winchester,” Nikki laughed and used his machete to saw at his ropes before moving over to the girl. “And hi there.”

“Emily,” She told him. “Oh god, are we safe?”

“I think so,” Mick told her. “Are they just leaving you guys out here to fry or something?”

“It’s a deity,” Dean explained, rubbing at his chaffed and rope burned wrists. “Vanir.” He looked around. “Where is it?” There was rustling from the trees then. Dean stood in front of Emily and pulled out his gun. Mick readied his salt gun and Nikki held up his machete, ready to go.

“Woah, woah!” Vince called out, raising his hands up in the air. “Friend!”

“Dean?” Sam asked. Dean lowered his gun.

“Holy shit, is that Sam?” Nikki asked. “You grew up.” That’s when his eyes fell on Tommy and his heart skipped a beat. “Hey there mysterious hunter.”

“Hey there Nikki Sixx,” Tommy smiled at him. “Well Sam, there’s your brother. Alive and well.”

“Alive but maybe not well,” Dean pointed to where the scarecrow had been. “It’s gone.”

“What is it?” Vicne asked, looking to the empty pole. “We miss the strippers or something?”

“It’s a deity,” Dean told him. Emily turned and screamed then. Everyone turned to see a huge scarecrow looming down at them.

“Run!” Mick yelled as the seven of them took off through the orchard. After they had run for awhile, they stopped to catch their breath.

“How do we stop this?” Nikki asked, looking at Dean.

“Well, most deity’s have like a symbol of them or something,” Sam explained. He looked around. “What if it’s one of the trees?”

“You know how many fucking trees there are in here Sam?” Dean asked.

“It will look different than the others. Maybe grander, or has a symbol in it or something,” Sam told him. “We find that, we burn it, and it should get rid of the scarecrow.”

“Okay, we can cover more group by splitting up,” Mick told him.

“Oh come on. I’ve seen Scooby Doo. I know how this is going to go,” Vince told him. “And who died and made you boss, anyway?”

“Okay, Sam, Emily, and I will go this way,” Dean told them, pointing down one path. “Two of you go down  that one, and two go down that one.”

“We’ll go,” Nikki looked at Tommy and headed down the path, motioning for Tommy to follow him, leaving Vince and Mick to go together. Tommy adjusted the sword in his hand and made sure he had his gun ready, just in case. “So, when are you gonna tell me your name?” Nikki asked as they looked around for the tree.

“If we kill this thing before it kills us, I’ll tell you my name,” Tommy told him with a smile. Nikki had to bite his lip. That smile was going to be the death of him.

They searched for awhile, but neither Tommy nor Nikki could find anything that set one tree apart from another. Tommy sighed.

“I don’t know where else to look over here,” Tommy told him. He turned to head back the way they came, only to run right into the scarecrow. “Shit!” Nikki turned right as Tommy raised his sword to fight off the scarecrow, only to be thrown into a tree.

“Hey asshole!” Nikki called out, running at the deity. He swung his machete at the scarecrow, only for it to burn up as he hit it. He looked at his machete then back at the burning scarecrow before it vanished, leaving Tommy sitting against the tree, stunned, and Nikki staring at him.

“Uh, my name’s Tommy,” Tommy told him. Nikki offered him a hand to stand up.

“Nice to finally meet you Tommy,” Nikki smirked at him. “Let’s go find the others.” Tommy and Nikki headed back down the path, where they soon found Vince, Mick, Dean, Sam, and Emily. “Okay, who got the tree?”

“They did,” Mick nodded at Sam and Dean. “We just were heading their way when they got it.”

“Couldn’t have gotten to it like five seconds sooner?” Tommy asked, rubbing his sore back. Vince walked over to him to check on him. Tommy’s eyes widened. “Shit! Vince, we didn’t check in.”

“Oh fuck. Voula’s gonna kill me,” Vince groaned.

“Voula? Like Voula Bass?” Dean asked. Vince and Tommy looked at each other before nodding. “You know her?”

“She’s my mom,” Tommy told him. “She taught me a lot. Her and Rufus Turner.”

“Well, we gotta get Emily someplace safe,” Sam told them, interrupting the conversation.

“Right,” Dean nodded. “Thanks for the rescue. I’m sure we’ll be seeing more of you guys.”

“Yeah man. See you around,” Vince nodded, watching the Winchester’s walk off. Nikki, Mick, Vince, and Tommy all looked at each other.

“So, that was fun,” Tommy told them. “I’m sure I’m not in Suite 19 anymore after this.”

“Shitty band,” Mick grumbled.

“Dude, you ever see us play?” Tommy asked.

“Suite 19?” Mick asked. “No. Shitty name. 10 out of 10 times, that means it’s a shitty band. I would know. I’ve been in plenty of bands with shitty names.”

“Wait, you’re in a band?” Vince asked. “I did some stuff with a band called Rock Candy. I like doing the cover stuff. I think I’m an amazing singer.”

“I’m a pretty all right bassist,” Nikki told them. “I’m not John Paul Jones or anything like that, but I hold my own.”

“Guitar,” Mick told them, raising his hand.

“I did marching band for awhile. Drumline. So I play a killer drum set,” Tommy added.

“I think we just found ourselves a band,” Nikki laughed. “I mean, it works. We’re all four hunters, so we know what’s going on when one of us has to take off. We can go on hunts together. It works.”

“A band with you three idiots?” Mick asked. “Eh, I’ve done worse things in life.”

“Right on,” Vince nodded with a smile.

“Well, we should probably get back to LA,” Tommy told them. “Actually, we probably should find a phone before Rufus and mom send out a search party for me and Vince.”

“Shit! We didn’t call Bobby either,” Mick told Nikki.

“Wow, we’re just great all around, aren’t we?” Nikki asked as they walked back to their cars. A bright orange Challenger sitting next to a deep black Barracuda.

“Uh, hey Vince, I think I might ride back to LA with Nikki, if that’s okay with you,” Tommy told the blond. Nikki’s face lit up and he looked at Mick, who groaned.

“Does this mean I have to ride with him?” He sighed. “Fine. Let me get my stuff.” Nikki helped Tommy move his bags to the Barracuda while Vince watched Mick move his things.

“Okay, see you back in LA,” Nikki told them with a smile before him and Tommy got in the car and drove off.

Forever Tags: @anathewierdo​ @dekahg​ @marvel-af-imagines​ @feelmyroarrrr​ @nanie5​ @imboredsueme​ @gemini0410​ @aiaranradnay​ @babypink224221​ @mogarukes​ @xxwarhawk​ @sandlee44​ @shatteredabby​ @caswinchester2000​ @supernaturalwincestsblog​ @lauravic​ @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk​ @teller258316​ @horrorpxnk​ @tommyleeownsme​ @marvelismylifffe​

Supernatural Tags: @bandobsession98​ @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester​ @fangirlsencyclopaediaofweirdness​ @ilovetardis​ @missihart23​ @cloudyskylines​ @sams-serialkiller-fetish​ @theas-bedtime-stories​ @huntingfreewill​ @ocholove​ @princessofthefandomrealm​ @getbackhonkycatt​ @flamencodiva​

Motley Crue Tags: @primal-screamer​ @waywardprincess666​ @twistnet​ @saint-of-los-angeles​ @vader-kai​ @motleyfuckingcruee​ @sharon6713​ @kawennote09​ @2dead2function​ @nikkisixxwiththebass​ @iamtiber-andtiberismusic​ @jayprettymuchomw​ @charlyallise​ @you-know-im-a-dreamer​ @sweet-dreams-on-butterfly-wings​ @estxxmotley​ @arianareirg​ @the-normal-potato​ @nikki-sixxtynine​ @jjjjjjjoshdun​ @just-a-normal-fangirl18​ @stella20131991​ @tarahell​ @wowilovenikkisixx​ @i-want-to-shoot-myself​ @motleycrueee​ @sams-serialkiller-fetish​ @getbackhonkycatt​ @are-you-reddie54321​ @flamencodiva​  @scarecrowmax​ @major-tom-is-a-junky​ @anyasthoughts​ @bandaids-not-groupies​ @ilovetomkeiferslips​ @kaitieskidmore1​ @useyourillusion​

The Hunters Tags: @rock-n-roller-coasters​

[pabotofus]

Nothing’s changed in the past millenia.
For the first time, Hades considers that maybe it should.


(A retelling of canon events from Hades’ POV, focusing on his relationship with Persephone.)


Notes: This was based off of the plot/lyrics from the NYTW run and only includes Hades/Persephone songs on the live album (I’m sorry @How Long).


Fic also under cut

Persephone’s voice carries loudly in the empty halls. She’s angry.

At him, presumably.

“I don’t know, why don’t you ask my husband?”

Hades knows the term is supposed to be far more endearing than she makes it out to be. Persephone wields the word like a weapon, pinning it to him with sharp glares and a derisive scoff.

Maybe her voice carries because she wants him to hear it, Hades thinks. But then again, she’s always been particularly loud.

Hades wonders who she’s talking to. He wonders what he’s done for the term to roll off her tongue the way one would say the name of an enemy.

He keeps walking, almost relishing in her expression of shock as she turns the corner and nearly slams into him.

“Wife,” he greets. There is no emotion in his voice.

Persephone’s nostrils flare, and her lips twist into a frown before she stalks past him. Hades sighs through his nose, almost inaudible, and continues walking.

He builds his armor thicker against her words. What else can he do?

That night, another factory springs up.

That night, the pale lily on his desk wilts.

-

The workers in Hadestown call him “my lord”, bowing their heads and barely veiling their contempt with respect.

Persephone does not bother with pretending.

Hades walks around his factories, watching his workers’ shoulders stiffen and the clacking of machinery quicken as he nears.

“My lord,” they say as he passes, their voices blending into a low murmur.

He opens the door and sees Persephone about to enter, a suspiciously wrapped bundle tucked under her arm.

“What, refreshments for me?” Hades’ lips stretch into a thin imitation of a smile. “How thoughtful.”

Persephone narrows her eyes.

“Of course, my lord,” she grits out, and shoves the bundle into his chest.

Before he can even open his mouth, she disappears, leaving behind the faint smell of strawberries.

Hades carries the bundle with him as he completes his rounds. The further along the wall he walks, the more that the sweet smell sours into the familiar tang of decay.

When he finally opens the bundle, the fruit is rotten, apples spotted and soft to the touch.

Useless things, not really meant for him anyway. Maybe Persephone is right to stop pretending. There is no warmth to be wrung out of forced gestures.

He throws them out.

The next morning, the apples are gone from the trash bin.

The next morning, Hades sees the cores badly hidden among the machinery. A single apple sits on the doorstep where he had bumped into her the day before, mockingly ripe.

-

Hades is familiar with the things that his workers call him behind his back.

They’re neither bold enough nor stupid enough to say it to his face, but Persephone is, and she makes up for it in spades.

“This place is a rotten fucking dump and I can’t wait to see the day it crashes down on you,” she screams. “To hell with your goddamn factories and power grids. Unnatural, shitty excuses for the harbor you claim them to be!”

He knows he shouldn’t, and in another world he might not have, but this time—and like every time before—he responds in kind.

“Ungrateful woman,” he snarls. “I give you all I have to offer and you throw it all away?”

Persephone laughs and the sound grates into his soul.

“If you call this ‘trying’ you have hell of a lot to work on.”

“You want warmth, I give it to you. You complain about the atmosphere, I put stars in the sky for you and-”

“You say warmth and set enough fires to burn this place alive,” she sneered. “The so called stars are bright enough to blind, and don’t even try pretending you give a shit about anyone.”

Hades is slipping under her rage and they both know it.

Persephone huffs and crosses her arms around her waist. “Things used to be better, you know. Before you built this hellhole and that damned wall.”

“Things are just fine and you would see it if you bothered getting off of that high horse of yours. Don’t you see I’m doing all of this for you, because I care-”

“Ooh, does the big powerful king of the Underworld have emotions?” She mocks. “Could’ve had me fooled, you know. I’m sure the workers would agree.”

“You’re the only one who complains about this,” he deflects, grasping at straws and half-truths. She was the only one who made a fuss—as well as the only one who knew she could do so without retribution. “What, do you have higher standards because you’re an almighty goddess of pollen and hay fever? If the workers are fine with it-”

“If the workers are fine with it,” Persephone spits, “then you can drag another one of them down into this dump!”

“Maybe I will!”

“Maybe you should find a better wife while you’re at it, if you think I’m so horrible!”

“Oh, I don’t believe that’ll be too difficult,” Hades snaps.

Persephone levels a glare at him and bursts into rose petals and sharp briars that crumble into ash not even seconds after she disappears.

Any way he looks at it, Hades is trapped between not doing anything and doing what she says, and neither of those are good options.

Hades is a man of habit.

The next day, Hades tells the Fates to keep everyone in line and goes up to the human world.

The next day, Persephone slams open the doors just in time to see the life flicker out of the eyes of a young girl.

-

Persephone does not speak to him for the next few days.

Somehow, no names are worse than horrible ones.

The first time she deigns to look at him after their fight, she smiles too sweetly and tells him, “You fucked up.”

Hades scoffs, breezing past her.

“Don’t believe me? See for yourself.”

He turns around and sighs. Persephone has draped herself over her throne, feet dangling onto his.

“You-”

“We can have our little chat later,” she says, and he tries not to roll his eyes at her nonchalant tone. “It’s incredibly rude of you to ignore your visitor.”

The throne room doors behind Persephone creak open, and he tears his eyes away from her to glance at the mortal boy standing there.

“Who is he?” Hades demands.

Persephone smirks at him and repeats her previous words, stretching her feet further onto his throne.

“You fucked up, darling.”

Hades hates the way the word is tacked on to the end, like she put it there just to rile him up. Hades hates the way he knows it’s only there to annoy him.

Suddenly, he isn’t so sure he likes being addressed again.

That night, he sneaks out to the factories.

That night, he finds his newest recruit and the mortal boy kissing underneath the electric stars and smoky clouds, and doesn’t understand why they would risk so much for something as fickle as love. Persephone, spotting him as she leaves, doesn’t understand why he wouldn’t.

-

Sometimes Hades feels like he and Persephone are going around in circles.

She doesn’t talk to him or mention him at all, not since the “darling” incident. But she speaks, and when she speaks, he listens, and as he listens, he understands.

He hears her speak to the mortal girl, just as he’s been talking to the boy. He hears her talk to the mortal girl and only hears Hades, Hades, Hades.

Like Hades, I wish to the gods that you were dead.

Hades, don’t you remember; why did you have to change?

And Hades… do you still love me?

But Hades is a man of habit, and his habits have the unfortunate effect of ruining things for everyone. His old rhetoric is the one that sits the most comfortably on his tongue, and it’s the one that leaves his lips, sickly sweet and rotting.

His words are directed at the boy, but the meaning for the woman he calls his wife. He punctuates his sentences with the shrieks of metal on metal, attacking her with every way he knows how.

That day, he wins the battle.

That day, he realizes he’s not even sure what war he’s fighting.

-

Hades doesn’t know what he expected.

He owns the workers’ souls but Persephone holds their hearts, and it’s all too clear which one really matters. Now, the boy threatens to take even what little Hades clings on to.

Hades is desperate, and he’s spiteful. He’s the lord of the underworld, king of the dead, and yet Persephone sympathizes with the mortal and his stupid emotions. Worst of all, he doesn’t even understand why.

He finds himself not understanding a lot of things these millenia. He doesn’t understand Persephone, he doesn’t understand the boy, doesn’t understand love.

Hades is an old god, and he is a tired god. Tired of fighting too much and trying too hard and doing everything just to fail in the end. Tired of the same things that happen every spring and every fall, tired of dancing around in circles. Tired of being stuck.

Because on one hand, he’s the king of the Hadestown, the man of habit, who would crush the boy with an iron fist and send him back up to the world above with a broken guitar and a broken heart.

On the other hand, he’s also an old soul; an old, old soul hopelessly in love with a woman doomed to leave him again and again and again, who would give the boy the chance that he himself never got.

But the name of Hades has a reputation to protect and an empire to build, and Hades cannot afford to be either of the two.

The Fates sing in his ear, a cackling cacophony of fear and doubt and he knows he has a choice to make.

That night, listening to the boy pour his heart out, Hades makes a choice that could save them.

That night, listening to the echoes of his own heart, Hades makes a choice that could save himself.

-

“You think they’ll make it?”

Hades answers truthfully. “I don’t know.”

Persephone keeps her voice surprisingly neutral. Forcefully neutral.

“Hades, you let them go.”

He hasn’t heard her say his name in a long, long time. He sighs, staring at their retreating forms.

“I let them try,” he corrects.

“And how about you and I?” Persephone challenges. “Are we going to try again?”

It is in that moment that he realizes what she wants.

“It’s almost spring.”

Persephone’s expression shutters and twists into a scowl. His hand, growing ever closer to hers, is met with the cold chill of absence as she snatches hers away.

Hades does something he hasn’t done in centuries. He reaches out to her.

“We’ll try again next fall?”

Persephone’s expression softens, and lets her fingers slip between his.

“Wait for me?”

In this moment, Hades hears an answer.

In this moment, Hades hears the softest whisper of a question.

Hades remembers when they were younger gods, when they danced in the sun and snuck behind Demeter’s back. He remembers when she came down and the factories were not factories but fields of gemstone flowers that bloomed the whole winter through. He remembers when she let him call her Kore, when she wove him flower crowns that did not wilt until the next spring. He remembers when they loved each other.

He remembers when they tried.

Hades looks over at Persephone and squeezes her hand.

“I will.” 
____________________________________________________________________
Special big big thank you to my bff and just generally amazing human being, Inara!! Thank you so much for putting up with my bs and helping me with a bunch of stuff related to this fic (go follow her at biorpheus.tumblr.com you wont regret it)
Also- title is from Just Give Me a Reason by P!nk

[theelliottsmiths]

Could you please tell us a little about Elliott Smith and what you love about him?

Who?

Just kidding.

I'm having to dust off the Elliott shelf, it's been a while since I was really in the headspace and not just playing a few songs here and there (by which I mostly mean playing Kings Crossing, the Biggest Lie and Last Call on my laptop and on my guitar over and over again). I've been a fan for about... Ten years I think? Don't ask me about his death you know for a fact I have a strong opinion.

If you aren't sure if you've heard his music you probably have. Most likely Miss Misery (Good Will Hunting) or Between the Bars (Rick and Morty I'm pretty sure it was in?). There is also a Sad Kermit the frog rendition of Needle In The Hay which. Exists. And is based in the Royal Tenenbaums version because that's what it was in.

The thing I like most about him is that he... Couldn't sing. It's the truth, he was not a good singer, but it fits the music completely. It wouldn't work without it, the same way early Rammstein and the Dresden Dolls wouldn't work if they were Technically Good singers. He sounds like a spiderweb. He sounds like the texture of moss. He sounds like he has a really bad cold always, and I'm talking about when he was at his best. It's perfect.

Plus, his lyrics and guitar and piano playing make up for it.

I have this thing where I don't like similarity? If I can't immediately tell if it's X band or Y, no thanks. You can't mistake Rammstein or Elliott Smith or The Dresden Dolls for anyone else. I've never heard music like his. You can hear influences like you can with anyone, but with Elliott you can literally hear one chord and it's obvious it's him.

He was an incredibly shy and intelligent person: He always said he was the worst kind of person to be a famous musician. There are a lot of interesting and uncomfortable interviews online and there's a documentary called Heaven Adores You that I recommend.

He's one of those musicians whose fanbase is 90% people who say his music saved their life, you know? It's very personal music to people, usually.

This Rammstein Thing isn't how I usually go about musicians, I only know so much about Amanda Palmer/the Dresden Dolls because she's an incredibly open person, I'm on the patreon and mailing list, and I've been a fan since 2009. I am not, nor have I tried to be, an encyclopaedia of Elliott Knowledge. Just to be clear.

I do however have every recording I could find downloaded. That's the one good thing about a musician being dead: it's easier to download All The Things. Lots of live shows and demos and all that. I prefer live versions a lot of his songs even though they do sound way worse usually because he was fucked up most of the time, I don't know why.

[madmen]

all of them pls jodie comer janelle monae phoebe waller bridge, have fun

do you have a crush on anyone? yeee on my grilled friend! bitches be havin girled friends.

what’s your favorite candy? i am cadbury dairy milk bar’s bitch! i also really like kitkats especially the mini ones those are so good.

favorite love song? aaaaa it changes with the weather i like so many but can’t take my eyes off of you is always a classic both it and let’s get married (mitski cover) make me feel Warm and the past few months i cannot stop listening to mr mika tiny love. yes this question asked for one but this is me restraining myself i promise. OH it might be being alive from company actually.

what was your first kiss like? technically my first kiss lasted for .0001 of a second in a public high school hallway and it was by accident so i choose to disregard that one because the one after that was very nice imagine. you are on a BEACH it is MIDNIGHT she tastes like some type of wine and you are not sober and do not know what you’re doing so you’re taking MENTAL NOTES and trying to imitate what it feels like she’s doing but you want to live in this moment forever.

what was your last kiss like? it was sweet! well, more like salty because we were crying but it’s because we are simply full of love!

sexual/romantic orientation? i’m a (fleabag godmother voice) LESBIAN

do you prefer poems or love letters? love letters hands DOWN

favorite fanfic trope? i like it when they’re both friends and in love and afraid to say anything for fear of ruining their relationship. there is a name for this but i hate it so i will not say it it’s two words, first one with an m and second one with a p. Don’t know what it is about that second word but. hate it.

have you ever been in love? yes, highly recommend

favorite milkshake flavor? I don’t like milkshakes I think they’re ice cream soup which is disgusting but my favorite ice cream flavor is mint chocolate chip if that counts

dinner dates or brunch dates? I prefer the idea of brunch dates but I wake up hungry so in practice probably dinner dates but like. to diners so I can have breakfast food.

favorite flowers? Pink carnations! Honorable mentions to bleeding hearts and roses that are light orange or light blue or light pink.  

favorite perfume/cologne? no clue

favorite candle scent? if it’s sold during fall i probably love it anything pumpkin-y or slightly-but-not-too-much cinnamon-y

what’s your ideal first date? we go on a funky lil adventure! we see some fancy house and get food together and then see something else maybe a beeg church i like the way they make me feel small and they make me feel Whole when i’m there with someone i care about. maybe go for a walk in my head this is some city we’ve never been to and we just walk and talk and hold hands and point out pretty architecture.

favorite love story? in real life i am still losing it every time i think about how ronan farrow proposed to jonathan lovett via his BOOK. in fiction i am unfortunately stuck at 11 still losing it over both the doctor and rose as well as mary and matthew crawley.

what’s the most attractive thing a person could wear? idk i think suits are hot but i also melt when my girlfriend wears her oversized hoodie she just looks so cute and cozy! i feel like most things are attractive when you’re into a person. also lingerie.

chocolate, vanilla, or red velvet? vanilla!

snow, rain, or sun? rain but not too hard just a nice light mist

sweetest romantic memory? she wrote me LOVE LETTERS!!!!

favorite dating sim (and favorite character)? I have played all of one dating sim, which makes it my favorite by default. Unfortunately, it is UmaPri/My Horse Prince. I did not finish it I got impatient and my apartment watched a playthrough on youtube you don’t even get to fuck horse boy I don’t think you even kiss but it’s still so funny horse boy is obviously the best character.

fictional crushes? leia organa, cheryl blossom or betty cooper (whichever one is more likely to commit a crime on that episode), joan holloway, betty draper, villanelle, all the big little lies milfs, among others.

what’s your dream wedding like? it takes place at the johns hopkins library if i can’t have that then like. some fancy house or library or museum somewhere thats super neat. i don’t know what i wear but i look very nice. all my friends are there and it’s Very Fancy. elegant and refined thats the general Vibe.

what makes you blush? i have no clue i think sometimes when i drink my face flushes so we’ll go with that

do you believe in love at first sight? only in romeo and juliet. i think theres like. a spark at first sight maybe but also not needed for love ya know?

do you believe in soulmates? i don’t know i feel like theres like. maybe a list of people who are your soulmate? like it couldve been this one yea but it also couldve been someone else had circumstances been different like the world is soooooooooooooo big and sometimes theres right place wrong timing i think? i don’t know. 

denim jackets, leather jackets, or bomber jackets? on me? all of the above. on hot gals? leather jackets.

what’s your sign? taurus sun, leo moon and rising

are you single? nope i have a grilled friend! i love her!

do you prefer to charm, or be charmed? both!

guitar or piano? normally i’d say piano but rianne used to play guitar so mixed thots here also it’s so fun to try and teach her piano and hear her lil laugh when i fix her fingers on the keys. answer foggy try again later

favorite romcom (or any romantic movie)? when harry met sally!!!!!! 

do you fall in love easily? i don’t think so but i’ve only done it once so i could be mistaken

valentine’s decorations: yay or nay? i think they’re cute!

would you prefer to propose or be proposed to? what’s your dream proposal? I wanna propose which throws a real Wrench in Rianne’s concurrent desire to propose. Gotta keep the proposal a surprise, soz gang.

cloud gazing or star gazing? Star gazing!

do you like to dance? I cannot dance to save my life but god if I don’t fantasize about it every second of the livelong day

what’s your OTP? please do not make me admit to being into harry potter on main, and worse yet being into dr*rry and w*lfstar it is rightfully embarrassing.

kittens or puppies? I am afraid of almost all living things which includes kittens and puppies but I prefer pictures of puppies

coffee, hot chocolate, or tea? Cofy!

favorite soda? i hate fizz > : ( why does everyone like it when it feels like theres ants crawling on your tongue?

do you prefer gazing wistfully out the window or lying dramatically over the sofa? is there someone to give me atten shun? if so, i’m lying dramatically on the sofa. if i’m on my own it’s window time babey

favorite ABBA song? this one also changes over the years right now i’m gonna say voulez-vous

fuck/marry/kill? (anons name 3 people of your choice) this is so MEAN okay so phoebe waller-bridge’s dad was named in the panama papers i know she has the most exorbitant amount of wealth and i trust her to treat me right. that leaves jodie and janelle cannot stress enough how much i haaaaate having to kill any of them okay at the oscars we saw what janelle’s tongue can do so unfortunately we will be sacrificing jodie comer : / jodie i’m sorry i love you.

favorite pajamas? I don’t own pajamas because I’m a weirdo who either sleeps in their clothes or an oversized long sleeve t shirt and leggings

favorite liquor? vodka for mixing, sourz for shots

do you think about love a lot? yeeeeeeeeeeee

a walk in the park or a walk on the beach? i don’t like sand. it’s rough and it’s coarse and it gets everywhere. Honestly I think I’d rather just walk indoors i am anti fresh air got that sweet sweet hay fever

hand kisses or nose kisses? nose kisses!

what’s your dreamhouse? i wanna live in the city in an apartment and due to the fact that i am american it is unfortunately so big in my head no apartment has ever been this beeg and if it did exist i could not afford it but. it’s so pretty i have fancy kitchen cabinets and my living room is filled with bookshelf upon bookshelf of used books and it has room for my piano and i have a beeeeeg sleigh bed and black cherry furniture and a dishwasher and a laundry room. i come home and am filled with calm.

[peaches-of-1]

Prince BTS In love with Servant Pt2

Part 1 Here

Jin

You were actually about to get beheaded for falling in love with the prince. One of the newer butlers had intercepted a love letter between you two. You two had been so careful though. Jin had been locked in his room and had no way to get to you, and you were out of tears. The guillotine only got closer as you marched towards it. Everyone had turned out to see the prince’s servant lover get what they deserved.

You’d be noble about it. You wouldn’t make a fuss. All you wished for was to see your lover’s eyes again. “STOP!!!!” that voice. Jin got onto the platform with a weapon in his hands. “If you kill the one person I love, then I shall die too. The afterlife is where we shall be together if not here.” Prince Jin was known to be the reckless type, one to keep his promises. You were set free, and he called for his horse who ran to where you were. With a nod of his head, you smiled and got on the horse. He got on behind you and the two of you rode off to where you could be happy together.

Yoongi

He had been playing his song for you when the took you into custody, grimy hands forcing you to the dungeons. They were charging you for seducing the prince. Did they not know it was more than simple seduction? It was love. True love. Were they really so blind to the obvious? The two of you called out each other’s names until your vocal chords gave out. It was nothing but darkness and borderline starvation without him.

Weeks passed. The prince no longer wrote any music. He didn’t even know where they had taken you. Everyone tried to convince him that he was being foolish, but Yoongi didn’t care. He just wanted you back. When he went to his piano room, he didn’t expect to see you there. Usually, you were just an illusion but this time it was actually you! The King had realized that all of his son’s best songs were about his love for the lowly servant, and he loved his son too much to take everything he truly loved away.

Hobi

No one could believe this day was actually happen, least of all you. The prince was marrying a laundry servant this morning and it was real. All the princesses and princes of other lands mourned at the loss of such a man to someone so unfit. You couldn’t stop crying from your happiness. The bouquet in your hands was real. The piano. The families were actually yours and his. Hoseok was crying as well.

He had looked through all archives of rules past and present, and there was none against marrying someone of lower status. It was simply a social no no, but he didn’t care when his heart knew that you were all the riches he would ever need. Some said you were doing it for money. You two knew the truth, and that’s all that mattered as you finally said the words “I do.”

Namjoon

You should’ve known this day was to come sooner or later, but you didn’t know that it would hurt this much. Prince Namjoon’s engagement to Princess Nayeon of the JYP Kingdom had been announced just moments ago which is why you had come to cry in your secret garden. It was arranged by the king and queen, but it didn’t make the pain any less. You were just a servant. A lowly commoner, and worse. Of course you’d never get married.

Namjoon called your name, but you refused to look at him. You tried to get him to go pack to his princess. He held your hands. “What ocean would I not cross, what mountain would I not climb to see you again? None, my darling, none.” You kissed him and Nayeon came out of the shadows asking if he meant that. He did and always would. She gave an understanding smile and a nod saying that she’d get them to cancel the marriage.

Jimin

Well, fuck this shit. If the love of your life didn’t go through with this wedding then their kingdoms would go into war. His hand had been forced. However, you were still going to do something incredibly stupid as a last ditch effort to stop the wedding. “Speak now or forever hold your peace.” Now or never. “Then I shall speak.” Your voice wavered as you stepped out of line in more ways than one.

“The prince and I are lovers. We’re in love and have been for quite some time. I beseech thee, don’t make him do it.” Jimin’s facade of seriousness broke and tears welled up in his eyes, utterly terrified for you. The guards went to grab you but he said you spoke the truth. He loved you and you loved him. All you two wanted was to be together. His betrothed spoke up, “I don’t even wanna get married. I just want to live in the woods with some cats.” So there was a wedding, but this time it was yours.

Taehyung

Your love caught your hand as you were bringing soup to a sick royal member and you told him to be careful. He asked why you had been avoiding him lately without letting go. “We should stay just friends, Tae. It’ll be better for the both of us.” He was confused and asked what you meant. You told him how you’d been getting the workloads of others. “They wanna take me down a peg, and I can’t refuse the royals. Even with the other servants getting in on it...”

He noticed the calluses on your hands had gotten thicker as well as the scars on your arms and the wrinkles and Taehyung was going to do something about it. You refused to give names, but he had his own informants in the ranks. Walking the palace, you realized there were a lot of new faces but also a lack of old ones. Taehyung kissed your cheek and said nothing about firing those who had been mean to you.

Jungkook

Your twins were finally put to bed on their mats made out of hay and flour sacks that matched their clothes. Your husband gave you a hug from behind “I’m home, my love.” and kissed your cheek. His guitar was on his back, and he was obviously tired. After laying low for a while, he became a local performer, working odd hours at the tavern and not coming home until late. He sat at the table and you gave him the leftover vegetables. “There’s not much since the goat got into the garden.” 

What’s wrong, my love?” You felt as thought it was your fault that he had to leave his comfort in the castle to live like this just because of your different social standings even after all these years. He promised he loved you and that he wasn’t upset. “I would go to the ends of the earth if it meant I could be by your side.”

[natsthinkitythinkthinkthonk]

Happy 32nd Birthday Nobuhiko Okamoto!

Personal Note:

I’ve been preparing for a while because I wanted to make this with a lot more thought. Sorry for the length of this post. I spent quite a bit of time on it, but I didn’t realize it would get so long! He is one of my top favourite voice actors (both English and Japanese) ever. To me, he’s a relatable, awesome, and passionate inspiration. He puts his all into every role he does, and he never gives up no matter who tells him to. 

I could probably go on about how much I like many of the roles he’s done, but that would be a whole other essay in itself. I even considered watching Corpse Party (the scaredy cat I am) because I heard he was in it. Yeah, I’m one of those people who gets drawn to anime when I figure out certain studios and voice actors are attached to it. I have watched a few episodes of some really bad anime because I heard he was in it. No regrets! Okay, maybe I have a few... I still haven’t watched them all though! I plan on watching a ton more, and that includes a few bad apples here and there.

Despite all the hurdles and adversity he faces, he overcomes it! He has had so many amazing roles, he sings, he’s good at shogi, and he’s just a good person. I respect him a lot. Honestly, I can’t word stuff too well, but I sincerely hope he continues working, maybe gets married and has kids (since he said he wanted to), and experiences all the happiness he deserves.

Table of Contents:

Top Roles (+ clips)

Trailblazer arrangement

Facts + Q&As

Music Recommendations

Additional Sources + other cool posts

Top Roles:

I watched to include even the ones that I didn’t watch entirely, so I put together a whole list. It’s generally not too strict in order, but I went from his good to his best. If I wanted to put a few words, I just included them in square brackets. In those, there will also be recommended clips if I feel the need to add any in.

* = ones that I haven’t watched completely (or up to its current point)

Rui Tatsumi* - Starmyu

Ivan Karelin* - Tiger and Bunny

Shin-ah - Akatsuki no Yona

[This character didn’t talk much, so he actually got to play a MOB character as well. I found this character kind of charming though.]

Mitsuo - Danshi Koukousei no Nichijou

[He’s the one who dropped the hot dog. Rest in Pieces. This anime made me laugh, and even though this character barely appeared, he made me laugh every time he did. Recommended clip: “Glasses”]

Gladion* - Pokemon Sun & Moon

[He’s actually the perfect choice to play this edgy boi.]

Yumeji Fujiwara* - Yumekui Merry

[RIP the can]

Makoto Kashino* - Yume-iro Pâtissière

[I just started this one]

Mizuki* - Kamisama Hajimemashite

[I watched six episodes of this one.]

Rei Ogami - Code:Breaker

[This wasn’t a very good anime, it’s a mediocre manga, but I still enjoyed it.]

Nikaidou Harunobu* - 3-Gatsu no Lion

[I watched around 6-8 episodes of this one. This character is a pure round boi, and I like the way Nobu portrayed this character. Recommended Clip.]

Io Otonashi* - Acchi Kocchi

[I watched around 5 episodes of this one. His bishounen game is very strong.]

Takeru Fujiwara* - Prince of Stride

[These anime characters run like how I run from my life responsibilities and problems. His bishounen game is also very strong. The strong and silent type is always popular. Sadly, I’m the quiet and extremely frail and weak type.]

Shouta Kisa* - Sekaiichi Hatsukoi

[According to Tumblr, he has never done an R-rated (18+) BLCD, but he has been in some shounen-ai anime.]

Issac Foster - Satsuriku no Tenshi

[My reaction to this anime. Don’t worry, I’m following this to the end.]

Ryousuke Kominato - Diamond no Ace

Ryou Kurokiba* - Shokugeki no Souma

Age - Sakasama no Patema

[Yeah, that’s his actual name. If you name your child something that stupid, I would personally like to have a word with you. This movie was really nice though.]

Accelerator* - Toaru Majutsu no Index

[I had to include his laugh to this]

Jurai Andou - Inobato (Inou-Battle wa Nichijou-kei no Naka de)

[And jail is just a building you live in! I can’t remember the context of this line.]

Kiyoharu Hyoudou - Welcome to the Ballroom

Yoichi Saotome* - Owari no Seraph

Eiji Niizuma* - Bakuman

[Recommended Clip]

Obi - Akagami no Shirayuki-hime

[When he looks into the mirror and realizes he’s missing his eyebrows.]

Takumi Usui* - Kaichou wa Maid-sama

Yuu Nishinoya* - Haikyuu

[Recommended Clip: ROLLING THUNDER!]

Rin Okumura - Ao no Exorcist

[He’s such a likeable protagonist. Recommended clip: Rin x Shiemi because they’re adorable]

Mikoto Mikoshiba - Gekkan Shoujo Nozaki-kun

[This character made me laugh so much. He and Seo are my favourites. I haven’t seen another amazing anime with both Miyuki Sawashiro and Nobu. They’re my two favourites. I hope to see them acting together eventually (even if Mikorin and Seo never really communicated). Thanks to Nobu, we have a voice to this madly embarassed bishounen. Recommended Clips: Mikorin Clips, Mixer Clip]

Katsuki “Kacchan” Bakugou - Boku no Hero Academia

[Bakugou might not always be my cup of tea as a character, but his voice made me like him somewhat anyway whether he’s an asshole or not. There are a few scenes in season three that hit me with mad feels,, but even during season one and two, Nobu aced this role. This role is what shot him up to one of my favourite voice actors. Recommended Clips: Rage moments, Kacchan vs Deku audio segment (scroll down a little for this Tumblr post), Salty Bakugou S1]

Karma Akabane - Assassination Classroom

[While Bakugou is one type of crazy, Karma is another. Honestly, he’s such a sly, cunning, and mischievous character, but that’s what we all like about him, right?]

Trailblazer Arrangement:

This is my first time transcribing a song and arranging it! I improvised and made up some stuff (mostly guitar solos that just didn’t fit as well logically on piano). I usually don’t like (actually, I kinda hate) transcribing because it’s basically like trying to copy down a book that someone reads aloud (and you can’t look at the text). But it was worth doing this! He’s definitely not my favourite singer, but I’d still listen to him.

I didn't want to go with an original score for this one because I felt like I wanted to improve a lot more as a composer and artist (as if I'm qualified enough to be called those terms). When I make one for him, I want to go all out.

Facts:

I found some other interesting facts online. There are quite a few different sources. I’ll try to list them below all the facts (but I might link them to the actual facts as well. There are a lot, so there’s that.

All [Nat Notes] will be put between square brackets “[these]”.

These are all from THIS POST:

After graduating from secondary school, he entered some voice acting training courses associated with his agency (Pro-Fit) to pursue his dream as a seiyuu.

To be able to pay for his training, he worked at a 7-Eleven and a post office.

His family is very strict and conservative.

He was into video games when he was younger, but his parents were against letting him play video games and ended up limiting him to a one-hour per day time limit [THIS POOR BOI]

[Regarding his gaming] his parents told him, “If you want to play games, you can play shogi.” This ended up being the reason he started playing shogi.

He is a practicing Catholic [ironic since one of his most iconic roles is playing the son of Satan]

He’s a 3rd dan ranked shogi player, and he once aimed to be a professional shogi player.

He has a huge love for sweets. I follow his blog, and a lot of his posts involve sweets.

“His favourite [candy bar] would be Black Thunder chocolate bars (same as Kamiya Hiroshi and Ono Daisuke), and at one point, he always ends up buying Black Thunder by the box, stocking up on it, and eating up to 10 bars in one day, that his agency decided to restrict him into eating just one bar a day.” [let the poor guy eat his chocolate]

He is easily bullied by other seiyuu [check out the original post which has gifs of his mishaps]

“[While recording] …he ran away from the mic, forgetting that he was wearing headphones connected to the mic and ended up messing up the recording room, and the staff had to rearrange everything.”

He’s a big fan of Pokemon [He now plays Gladion in Pokemon Sun & Moon]

These are from “More Nobu Facts”

“As a student, he used to fall asleep on the train and miss his destinations sometimes. He thinks that it’s really comfortable to take a nap there.” [Yeah, you say that until you somehow end up in the middle of nowhere and wonder where you are and why you even exist.]

“He suffers from hay fever in the spring. Said that the symptoms kill him.” [You and me both except mine are year-round and gradually getting worse.]

“He played with Lego bricks when he was a kid.” [If he’s the type of person who left out the bricks and made people experience pain because of it, I will personally leave Lego bricks outside his door. Those things hurt when they’re unexpected.]

“He loves the indoor life.” [don’t we all…]

“He read the Harry Potter series.” [I did too! Not that I remember any of it.]

“His cute, foreign Furby only speaks English. Noburin stated, “English is very hard.”” [HOW DO PEOPLE SLEEP KNOWING THEY OWN ONE OF THOSE? I WOULD BURN IT IF I GOT ONE.]

“In elementary school, the girl he liked gave him chocolate on Valentine’s Day. He said he felt like crying from the shock.” [I haven’t experienced that. Was he happy because it was that girl who gave him chocolate or because he got free chocolate?]

“He was hospitalized before when he was a child due to a bad cold (or maybe the flu).” [Well, that diet sure doesn’t help, and I doubt screaming all the time is good for you. Weirdly, I can’t say anything more than that because I do both too except I scream internally while he does it as his profession.]

He tends to get sick within the first two weeks of October, right before his birthday. [I wish you luck!]

He likes to watch lightning and thinks that it’s cool. [I’M SO SCARED OF THUNDER]

During the summer as a kid, he liked to catch cicadas and dragonflies, and play with water guns. [SAME DUDE]

He was in the badminton club during secondary school.

These are all from his Q&A! [Part 1], [Part 2], [Part 3], [Part 4]:

I’m not going to include quotation marks for this one for the most part. I changed some awkward phrasing. I left out some questions from the original posts as well. Check the sources out!

Nickname: Pikorin

Favourite animal: Dog [Same. I love my dog, Penny. She’s my little sister. I have no shame.]

What are you fond of?: Squirrels [why?]

Description of your personality: Moody [Same.]

Favourite Colour: Black

Health and Beauty Routine: I drink two cups of milk in the morning and do squats two times a day. 

First thing you do in the morning?: Rinse your mouth

First thing you wash in the bath: Face

Amount of sleep you get: 4 hours on the weekdays, 10 hours on the weekend  [I wouldn’t live with that kind of schedule.]

Rain or sunshine: Rain!

What did you play as a child?: I slid down the slide and got many scratches. [I ran up slides a lot in elementary school]

Something you’re proud of: “I have a shiny legendary Pokemon.” [I ALMOST NEVER GET SHINIES. LET ALONE LEGENDARY ONES. THAT’S AN ACCOMPLISHMENT RIGHT THERE. The chances of getting one kinda vary, but it’s less than 0.1% I think.]

Favourite school subject: Math [Can’t relate. I’m dumb.]

Least favourite school subject: Civics

Best school memory?: I won a badminton tournament. [Can’t relate. I’m a blob.]

Previous part-time jobs: [...]post office, fast food, convenience store and then accounting, I’ve done different jobs.

If you could be reborn, would you be a man or woman? A woman!

Who was your first love?: We were in elementary school, in the same class. [Related post]

Any gesture of women unnerving to you?: My heart skips a beat when ousted or “shooed” by hand.  [He gets shooed like a bug XD]

Where would you go for a date?: Tokyo Disney Sea.  [You know you’re at the height of luxury when you can afford to take someone there. I want someone to take me to Disneyland or Disney World, or a Disney Cruise.]

Morning person or night person?: Morning person.  [Can’t relate.]

If you could drive to any time period, what would it be?: Jurassic Period! [If it just so happens you do, *pats* it was nice knowing you (even though he doesn’t know me). He’ll get eaten by a dinosaur.]

If you were stranded on a deserted island, what would you want there with you?: My Nintendo DS or PSP.   [Good luck without a charger or electricity. What games would he bring though?]

Favourite music genre: Anime songs [Me too fam.]

Do you play any instruments? No, playing the F chord on the guitar is my limit. [I like playing and creating music. I’m just not any good at it. XD He should try learning though!]

Favourite sports: swimming and badminton [I’m not good at swimming. I’m not good at badminton. I’m not good at sports.]

Sweets you usually eat: Macarons and chocolate-related sweets [AYE, that’s pretty much my taste too, so we pretty much have similar taste.]

Something you’re self-conscious about: The thickness of my eyebrows. [If his eyebrows were ugly, I would’ve commented on that already. XD (I usually say something along the lines of, “Is that a caterpillar on your face? It’s so thick and bushy! It looks like you took hair from your head and put it on your eyebrow! Maybe you can’t grow facial hair because all of it goes to those eyebrows.”)]

What will you do when and if only you became an invisible man one day?: Secretly observe Sugita Tomokazu-san. [Well, alright then. Fangirls have some competition? More importantly, Nakamura has competition!]

What’s the scariest thing to you?: In a sense, the most intimidating people. [All people are intimidating for me O^O’]

What is the title of the first game you’ve ever played in your life?: “Super Mario World”. [For me, it was Pokemon Pearl]

What would you be if you went into the fantasy world?: A witch. [Nobu, defying gender barriers. He’ll be a fabulous witch. I would similarly want to be a mage.]

What if I want to use a weapon to fight monsters?: Bow, crossbow. [I would want to use magic or a sword!]

Favourite season?: Spring. [I like winter because plants are dead (I have extremely bad allergies), snow, Christmas, my birthday, and New Year’s!]

At what spot do you like to linger around?: Starbucks. [Again, the height of luxury is when you’re able to afford Starbucks regularly.]

How’s your tolerance to alcohol?: I can’t drink much. [I don’t drink]

What good books do you usually read?: Original works that are adapted into anime. [I don’t read a lot. I’m an illiterate fool.]

What do you buy at convenience stores?: Fresh premium caramel roll cake. [I wish they had those in Canada…]

Favourite place in the country?: Okinawa. [I gotta go there someday!]

What countries do you want to go abroad?: Italy. [He recently said he wants to go to Italy for gelato and to be honest, I relate. Europe has good chocolate and cheese from what I hear.]

What are the challenges to your trip destinations like?: Pickpockets like to snatch! [He better watch out for those vans that say “Free Candy!” They might be meant for kids, but he might just stumble in.]

Are you nervous in public?: Recently it’s been okay; still nervous during events. [I’m always nervous in public. I would like to attend an event by the end of my life though.]

What would you tell your past-self (10 years ago)?: “Don’t give up and eat your dinner properly!” [I tell that to myself now XD If I were to send a message to myself, it would be something along the lines of, “What you feel, what you think, and what you believe is important. Listen to yourself. At the end of the day, you will figure out what to do. Don’t be afraid of being alone, and don’t be afraid to wander. Loosen up.”]

What would you message to your future-self (10 years from now)?: “The you in his twenties is having lots of fun. Are you having fun?” [Message for me ten years from now: PLEASE TELL ME YOU AREN’T AS DEEP INTO VOICE ACTORS AND ANIMATION. I BEG YOU, GET A LIFE.]

If the world was going to perish in 24 hours, what would you do? Gather all my friends and family, and have a BBQ party. [I would just write something in case it resurfaces. I would want to write my thoughts, opinions, and experiences along with the people around me.]  

Where do you want to work?: A place where I could grow. [Same!]

What are your thoughts when you look back at 2010? I issued a sex appeal to play [Usui], and worked hard to reach the targets! [From the amount of screaming fangirls, I think you did just fine.]

What is your current aim?: To be more playful and get more out of acting.

Finally, a message to the world: I’ll work hard from now on to make a voice that everyone will not have a hard time to listen to. Thank you for your support! [Thank you Nobu! You inspire a lot of people (including me) everyday!]

Additional Facts! [SOURCES WILL BE LISTED BELOW!]

He likes watching horror movies (especially with his friends Ryouhei Kimura, Kouki Uchiyama, and Yoshimasa Hosoya. Kouki is a scaredy-cat.) When watching a horror movie, he experienced scary unknown noises and used salt to ward away ghosts.

His birthdate is October 24, 1986

He is 168cm tall

He is affiliated with the agency Pro-Fit

He won: - Best New Actor Award at the Third Seiyu Awards for his roles as  Shin Kanzato in Persona: Trinity Soul, Ryuji Kuhoin in Kurenai, and Accelerator in Toaru Majutsu no Index (along with Yuuki Kaji!) - Best Supporting Actor Award at the Fifth Seiyu Awards for his roles as  Takumi Usui in Kaichou wa Maid-Sama, Eiji Niizuma in Bakuman, and Accelerator in Toaru Majutsu no Index II

He loves sweets... a lot: - He’s a qualified patisserie - Where his love of sweets came from [I can also say that is a good portion of his blog]

He tried to be rebellious as a kid but got “clobbered” by his mom.

He would purposefully wear long-sleeves while in the hot recording room for “My Hero Academia” so that he would be agitated enough to play Kacchan!

He adds chocolate to his curry sometimes

He gave Ayane Sakura the nickname “Ayaneru”

He often celebrates fictional characters’ birthdays on his blog for series that he’s involved with!

He was once told to give up on being a voice actor!

Thank you for not giving up Nobu!

Music:

月刊少女野崎君-俺の手でSPARKING!! 御子柴實琴(CV:岡本信彦) - Gekkan Shoujo Nozaki-kun: Mikorin Character Song

Kamisama Hajimemashita: Mizuki Character Song

Welcome to the Ballroom: Kiyoharu Hyoudou Character Song

『 サクラメント』By Okamoto Nobuhiko Ending for Vatican Miracle Examiner

Promise - Kaichou wa Maid-sama: Takumi Usui Character Song

Restoration to 0 - Code:Breaker: Rei Ogami Character Song

Tiger and Bunny: Character Song

スタミュ Starmyu S2 Shadow & Lights 「沈黙のディアローグ」Ver. Tatsumi Rui

Blue Flame - Prince of Stride: Takeru Fujiwara Character Song

99.9% Noisy - To Aru Majutsu no Index: Accelerator character song

Oikaze ni Tsugu - Diamond no Ace: Kominato Ryosuke

Trailblazer - Ao no Exorcist

Kimi wa Hitori Janai

List of Links (Sources and other cool stuff!):

Some of the links were included in the actual facts themselves! If a source and other stuff is missing, they’re included above!

Voice Compilations:

25 Anime Characters That Share The Same Voice Actor as Boku no Hero Academia's Bakugou Katsuki

Voice Compilation [ 1 ], [ 2 ] 

Wikipedia:

Nobuhiko Okamoto

3rd Seiyuu Awards

5th Seiyuu Awards

Haikyuu Stuff:

Haikyuu Awards Basically, they got the fans to nominate for awards like “Who’s the best dressed?” Then the cast got to comment (and maybe get praised by the two female cast members)

“Imagination Game” - Seiyuu Event Long story short: to win a pair of Karasuno boxers, the voice actors must answer all the same character when asked something like, “Out of the Karasuno team, who’s the most likely to [blank]”

Cast Pictures

Drama CD: Why Noya isn’t popular with women (This one is because I fricking relate because I’m too short for this tall world)

“Who’s Best Girl?” - Cast Comments + Nobuhiko’s comments [video with cc]

Nobuhiko Okamoto & Yuuki Kaji being bros [ 1 ], [ 2 ], [ 3 ], [ 4 ], [That time they challenged a Guinness World record], [Nobuhiko’s message for Yuuki Kaji’s 30th birthday]

Nobuhiko’s athletic ability

Kouki Uchiyama, Daiki Yamashita, Nobuhiko Okamoto: [Comic] BNHA Cast Comments

Daiki lending Nobuhiko his jacket (this can potentially fuel Bakudeku fanfics. I can feel it.)

Nishinoya and Bakugou at Jump Festa

[laylaschreave]

unagi

a/n: hello!! this fic is literally so overdue I cry, like,,,pre ball overdue. yikes. *goes to hide in my shell* but I honestly haven’t had a single ounce of motivation until yesterday where I churned more than half of this out. HOPEFULLY I get the remaining two fics out this week that I need to: another wesla and a brief james one. wish me luck my oc brethren. anywhoooo hope you enjoy this, twas a lot of fun to rp with my sustenance of life water. word count: 3919

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l a y l a

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One.

“...Hazel was being surprisingly ridiculous, saying if I didn’t stop playing the same song she’d hide all my sheet music and cut the strings on my guitar to boot.”

Two.

“Which is a horrible threat! It’s a beautiful song and hard, why shouldn’t I practice it so much?”

Three.

“But sure, when the wonderful Prince of New Asia practices the same song over and over no one has a bad word to say about him.”

Four.

“Not that he’s a bad guy, he’s actually pretty decent. Little serious but that’s off topic. All I’m saying is that I deserve my rightful playing time without fear of anyone destroying my instruments.”

Fi—

“Hey!” My eyes zeroed in on the smug stable hand currently offering my horse a fifth sugar cube. “I see that! You know she already has too many.”

Wes smirked without even looking at me. “Has too many what? Sugar cubes? Is she collecting them now?” He looked up at Cleo. “You shouldn't be doing that girl. Don't become a hoarder.”

Smartass.

My expression fell flat, batting his hand away from her mouth. “You know what I mean.”

He chuckled. “I actually don't. Please enlighten me.” Translation: please indulge me. I humored him.

“Has too many. Eats too many in a day. Spoiled.” I patted Cleo’s side for emphasis, making the horse snort and shake her head as if protesting.

Wes bore an amused look I saw often whenever I joked or bothered him too long. I couldn’t figure out if it was a good or a bad thing. Did it matter?

“She’s not that spoiled,” he continued, looking over at Wyatt’s horse. “If anything Altivo is the most spoiled. The prince caves in more than I’d expect.” Altivo looked at us, almost as if he knew we were talking about him, chewing his food and huffing through his nose. “You need to stop,” Wes added, assuming he would get it. Instead Altivo neighed and Wes shook his head before giving Cleo another sugar cube.

I, on the other hand, eyed Altivo warily. “It's eerie how similar him and Wyatt are.”

“Does he also neigh a lot?” He patted Cleo’s nose.

I spared him a side glance. “Would it be surprising if I said yes?”

That earned a laugh. “You two argue too much. I’m not trusting you on this”

“He's the instigator,” I countered, lifting a shoulder. “And you should most definitely trust me.”

“Instigator, huh?” He flashed me one of his crooked grins. “It’s funny how you’re all very dramatic.” Our unspoken but agreed upon middle names.

I began to walk along a crack in the cement away from Wes, holding my arms out as if I was balancing on a tightrope. If I had turned around I would’ve seen a smile tugging at Wes’ lips in my direction before he turned back to the horse. “I'm not dramatic. That's Wyatt's area of expertise.”

“Yesterday you were complaining about how he ate the last cookie without asking anyone if they wanted it first.”

I reached the stable directly across Wes, turning around and resuming my balancing. “A very justifiable upset.”

“It was a cookie.” He gave me a serious glance, like his next addition would be a game changer. “Did you claim the cookie as yours?”

I paused then mumbled with a frown. “No. He should've politely offered regardless.” We were all surprisingly possessive of our desserts. Except maybe Hazel, though she seemed to be immune to most Schreave related traits.

Meanwhile Wes tried and failed to suppress a smile as he threw and caught an apple with his hand—amused by my denial. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind when I eat cookies with someone else next time.”

“An excellent takeaway,” I smirked, making my way back over to him.

He shook his head, moving onto the next stable and remarking what a journey having siblings would be. I asked if he ever wanted a brother or sister to which he readily replied yes, though wasn’t made possible due to his parents separating. Hearing more about the situation of his parent’s divorce and how it impeded upon him ever having any siblings... well, it made me more appreciative of mine. Technically, a divorce wasn’t exactly legal, but somehow he trusted me enough to tell the story of his family.

His mother’s family was of Twos. His father’s of Fours. Apparently, when his mother realized she wasn’t too satisfied with the different lifestyle her husband could give her as a Four, her parents acted quickly. Discreetly, they utilized power and money to help her end the unfortunate marriage they never quite agreed with.

I was quiet as I considered his story, touched he’d confided in me before stepping after him at a loose follow. “When did it all happen?” I quickly added in a fumble, “You—well, you don't have to say anything if I'm... being nosy.”

He smiled awkwardly as he fed the horse. “No, it’s alright. It was years ago.” A pause. “I was... ten. Or maybe eleven? I don’t really know since years tend to blend in with each other around that time.

“Part of me hoped things would never actually end on divorce—even when she claimed for the first time that she could actually do it. A year after it happened, I realized maybe I should be grateful for not having a sibling.” Wiping a hand on his stained jeans, he continued to bring out more hay for the horse. “It would’ve been a lot harder if I’d had a little kid with me during all that.”

I picked up a piece of hay, spinning it between two fingers. “Maybe it would've been a little nice too. Not necessarily easier, but someone going through the same thing.”

He frowned a bit to himself. “No because he would’ve been younger than me. It was hard enough at my age. I can’t imagine if I’d been younger. It might’ve been more confusing.” Turning to face me, he gave a sheepish smile. “I didn’t really mean to take our conversation down this road, I’m sorry. It’s really not that big a deal.”

I smiled a bit, sensing his need to change the subject and a feeling I was all too familiar with. I poked his shoulder with the hay. “Back to cookies and overdramatic siblings? Or the Selected's uncanny skills to be everywhere all at once?”

His smile turned soft at my words, looking half relieved and amused by them. A change from his crooked smile. I liked it.

The thought was ruined when he snatched the hay from my hand and stuck it between his teeth, reminding me of a picture perfect country boy surrounded by horses and stables. “How uncanny are these skills?”

I sighed simply. “Very. They're nice and all but they're so... present.” Scrunching my nose up, I reached down to a crate and handed him a couple apples to continue his feeding.

“Well they can’t be past.” His expression immediately revealed that he knew his joke was kind of the actual worst.

I blinked. “You're lucky you're good with horses.” Still, a smile tugged at my lips while he only sighed.

“Yes, they can’t tell how awful I am.” The white horse put his snout against Wes’s palm, silently asking for another carrot. His smile was relaxed as he obliged the horse, a typical feature when I took the time to really study him. There was something that seemed to put him at ease while he worked, no matter what it was. Peaceful. “They’d probably run away if they could understand all my sentences, however.”

“Why, do you reveal your deeply dark and personal secrets? A coveted stamp collection maybe?”

He snorted. “I don’t even know what coveted means.”

“Long desired, yearned for. Wanted.” My brows rose. “Do you have a stamp collection?”

“Stamps are expensive.”

I picked up another piece of hay, sticking it behind my ear. “Sad. I was hoping for some juicy gossip.” I stepped right up to—Bella? Ella?—and scratched her neck. “What has he told you, hm?”

It only took a moment’s glance to see his eyes roll. “Just so you know, I said run away because of my terrible jokes. Not anything else.”

“Which is exactly why I'm concerned for the animals. They can't take any more.”

He shot me a glare. “Luckily, they don’t get what we’re saying.”

I smirked. “Luckily.” Walking over to a large crate, I sat down and let my legs swing, adjusting the skirt of my dress around my legs. I brought my attention back up to him only to see he was watching me. He blinked.

“Your dress is going to get dirty.” Did it matter that much to him?

I looked down at the pale pink fabric once more before shrugging slightly. There were already dirt stains at the hem, what would a couple more do? “I don’t mind. I’ve done worse.”

“Oh, please do tell me one of your wild stories, Princess.”

“Fell into the pool sneaking back in, spilled melted chocolate at dinner, had wine poured all over me when I went out... The list goes on.”

His shock was admirably fake. “You‘ve snuck out of the palace before? What a rebel.”

“Aren’t I?” I intoned with a feigned proud smile, earning a laugh from him. Nice laugh too.

“What do you even do?” His dark eyebrows wiggled in his own goofy way. “Do you have a secret stamp collection?”

I nodded soberly, trying to recall my severely limited knowledge on stamps, of all things. “My first edition 1951 President Truman is my crowning jewel.”

“Uh... well, that’s nice?” Apparently I pulled it off well since he couldn’t tell if I meant it or not.

I laughed, swinging my feet. “I’m not a closet stamp collector, don’t worry.”

His hands raised in surrender. “I wouldn’t put it past you to get excited about stamps.” He had the oddest ideas about me.

“Seriously?” My brow rose, skeptical.

His eyes widened at my expression and he moved to hide behind the horse. “Maybe.”

“How on earth do I look like a closet stamp collector?” I stood and followed him, peeking over behind the horse with both my brows quirked up now. A smirk appeared as much as I could tell he tried to hide it, scurrying behind—Bella!—this time.

“Because you’re fancy like that.”

I kept up my pursuit after him, narrowing my eyes and only mildly offended. Did I really look that stuffy? “My fancy is not stamp collecting.”

He chuckled, feet quickening in his pursuit to get away from me. He knew me well enough by now. “How am I supposed to know?”

“It should be obvious.” I rounded the horse only to see he had rushed into the next stall.

“I don’t know about that,” he called back, “I kind of picture people that say “coveted” as stamp lovers.”

I scoffed to myself and stepped over to the wall separating us, gripping the top to glance over at him. “Then maybe I should start expanding your vocabulary.”

Another snort. “How would you suggest doing that exactly?”

“Today I teach you coveted. Next time I come it’ll be another word.” I lowered my face, allowing only my eyes and brows to be seen over the wall as I mirrored his previous action, wiggling my brows. “Exciting prospect, right?”

His eyes found their way over to me in the moment, narrowing as he stepped over to place some hay on my head. “Oh yeah, I can’t wait.”

I didn’t move for a moment, instead rolling my eyes. Although that small movement made one small strand fall onto my nose, triggering an excessively strong sneeze. A sneeze that made the rest of the hay fall around my face while I tried to bat it away, stumbling backwards into Bella’s side. In turn it made her bump me roughly back into the wall, my hand twisting at the sudden movement. I groaned and glared at Wes.

There I went again, embarrassing myself in front of him. “Thank you for all of that.”

What I failed to notice was that somewhere in my fumbling around the stall, Wes had moved closer to the wall to watch me in half amusement and slight concern. Except when my glare met his gaze, our faces were much closer than either of us realized. I watched as his breath caught, my stomach flipping that he was even more handsome up close. It only took a moment for him to snap out of whatever had happened, pulling away. I blinked.

“You sneeze too easily.” Pretending it didn’t happen? Encouraging. Though I couldn’t help a scowl at his comment.

“Because that’s something I can control.” I bent and gathered a fistful of hay, coming up to throw it all over him. Fine, we can both pretend we obviously weren’t looking at each other for a little too long.

His sharp gaze found mine again for a few seconds before smiling smugly. “See? No sneeze. It’s all about being aware and,” he pointed at his forehead, “Unagi.”

I could only stare in bewilderment. Did he seriously just… I hopped up on the wall stealthily—for once—the upper half of my body hanging off as I leaned over to smack his shoulder with a huff. “Wes!”

His laughter filled the stall as he took a step away. “What?!”

“You obviously watch way too much Friends,” I observed, climbing off and walking over to his stall.

“My dad “accidentally kept” some of mom’s inherited copies before she left. If she ever noticed, I have no idea.” A pause. “You should probably not pass that information to anyone.”

I stepped through the doorway, with the beginnings of a smile playing on my lips. “That you use Unagi on a regular basis?”

“I don’t use it on a regular basis. It just fit the situation.”

“Mm.” A pause of my own. “Then I guess you should start calling me Princess Consuela Banana Hammock.”

Wes didn’t hesitate as he burst out laughing, deep and hearty that I couldn’t help a soft chuckle of my own. “Yes, I’m the only one that watches Friends too often.”

“Hard not to.” I stepped up to the horse. Not just a horse. Altivo. Boo. “What about you? Crap Bag your new name?”

He raised both eyebrows. “Harsh words from Princess Consuela.”

I laughed. “Only going by the script. But I’ll forego that nickname in place of another, if you really can’t appreciate masterpiece that is Crap Bag.”

“I think the horse doesn’t appreciate being called that.”

I let out a small, feigned gasp of offense and went right up to Altivo’s face, looking him in the eye. “Never.”

Glancing back at Wes I saw his eyes roll, picking up some hay to feed Wyatt’s prized animal. “I’m done. Are you going to trail me as I go do my other chores or are you actually going to remember you have a meeting with the Queen and Mr. Hiddleston in…” He glanced at the clock I knew was behind me, smirking, “twenty minutes.”

My eyes widened. He hates when I’m late. “Shoot, I still need to change.” I began to rush out the stall before I remembered one very important thing. “Thank you,” I said with a wide smile, pointing at him. Turning around I continued my haste out of the stall, but not quick enough to miss the smile tugging at Wes’s lips as he watched me go.

“You’re welcome…”

I wondered what he meant when I heard a residual “shut up,” from him, though by then I was already halfway out the stables.

I’ll ask him tomorrow.

—————

several wes-filled days later

—————

My favorite stable hand didn’t see me coming.

From behind, the picture of him patting the horse’s neck and riding off into the horizon was downright tranquil. I perfectly imagined what I’d come to call Wes’s-perfect-relaxed-horse-smile he probably wore.

He, of course, didn’t expect me to come riding hard and fast on Cleo, a wide grin splitting across my face.

“On your left!”

He jumped as I sped past him, likely uttering a snide comment to his horse. I slowed down eventually, tugging on the reins to circle back towards him and call out, “Beautiful day isn’t it?” An innocent smile as I tucked a loose strand from my braid behind my ear.

He glared and called back. “You ruined it, princess.”

Cleo and I trotted to his side, a scoff from me. “Oh please, you probably needed the wake up call.”

He tsked. “You mean a heart attack? I think I would’ve lived without it.”

“Deny all you want but I bring such excitement to your life.”

“Oh joy, did you bring the dictionary today?” I chose to ignore his fake excitement.

“As a matter of fact I did,” I argued with a slight lift of my chin. “Word of the day: masquerade.” Some excitement broke through my expression, a small smile that he mirrored with a shake of his head.

“Have a mask yet?”

“Almost. Finishing touches.” Clicking my tongue at Cleo, I tugged the reins to face the same direction as Wes, calmly walking the palace grounds alongside him.

“Finishing touches? Such as?”

“Finding the right shade of ribbon. Plus the gold sparkles keep coming off and I’m afraid one of them is going to get in my eye and scratch my cornea.” I made a face, imagining wearing an eye patch instead of a beautiful mask for Ben’s birthday. Not a pretty picture.

He chuckled. “Seems like a lot of work to cover up your face when it doesn’t need it.”

I lifted a shoulder, the compliment completely going over my head. “I like getting dressed up from time to time. Plus it being Ben’s 21st makes it more fun.”

Wes mumbled something under his breath I couldn’t understand, the hint of a smile on his face before returning to his normal tone. “His Highness is getting old.”

A small laugh from me. “You aren’t too far off yourself.”

“Ah, but there’s a difference when you pass the 20’s. Ask him and he’ll tell you.”

“Because he’s so old and wise now.”

“You mock me now, but one day you’ll see I’m right and when you do, you will rue the day.”

I laughed shortly. “Dramatic, Unagi.”

“I don’t even remember what show that ones from... but it’s old.” Wes apparently was fond of old things.

“Rue the day? iCarly. Emmy worthy masterpiece.”

“I guess I’m just cursed to quote old comedies for the rest of my life.”

“Then maybe you’re actually the old one.” I spared him a side glance. An almost 20 year old isn’t that much older than me. Luckily.

Not that it mattered. In any significant, date worthy way. Not at all.

“Old soul. My dad’s fault.”

“I like it,” I stated honestly, focusing on the tree line ahead and smiling a bit to myself.

From the corner of my eye I saw him glimpse quickly in my direction before shaking his head, gaze also on the path in front. “So, do you think you’ll finally be too busy to come around here? Because of preparations.”

I frowned slightly. “I don’t think so. My mom’s taken most of it over, wanting it to be more special.” I looked at him with a wry smile. “Why, getting tired of me?”

I had been coming around the stables a lot more frequently since that fateful fall, but I never thought he minded. At least until now.

Wes laughed, though that didn’t do much to reassure me.  “No, not at all. I just meant…” He shook his head. “Nothing, it was just a joke.”

I paused, fiddling with the reins. I’d had too many experiences where people—including my own family—had only said what I wanted to hear to leave them in peace. I didn’t want the same from Wes if it came from some odd sense of duty for the royal family.

“If I really do interrupt your chores too much, I- well, I don’t have to come around as much.”

As much as the suggestion made my stomach turn, it was true nonetheless. I didn’t want any more pity friendships, especially from someone who seemed to be one of the most genuine people I’d ever met.

“What? No! I—” Wes stopped himself, focusing on his reins and only increasing my curiosity for what he wanted to say but didn’t. “I... I think it’s nice to have some company.”

I let out a barely audible sigh. Well, I guess that’s good enough for now. I nodded my agreement. “Even if your company includes princesses who talk too much and throw hay at you?”

His laugh was a bit nervous at that. “Oh, but those are the best kind of princesses.” Oh how I wished such a small phrase didn’t make me all giddy inside.

I chuckled softly, keeping my cool. “You might need to up your princess standards then.” Because putting myself down was the key to keeping my cool, apparently.

“I like my standards…” he said, a puzzled look in my direction before resuming his usual humor. “Funny, unagi-less, understands my references, terrible at lying—except when it’s a lie for herself—”

“Um, excuse me.” My eyes narrowed, forgetting any previous awareness of my growing crush on the stable hand. “I’m an excellent liar in all situations.” Ten seconds ago being a prime example.

“Oh yeah, totally. 100%.” He nodded, clearly not meaning it. I huffed out a breath, reaching across our horses to shove his shoulder.

“Hey! No pushing while on a horse. It’s dangerous.” An annoyingly smug look. “Rules apply to you too.”

“I think you can handle a shove from me,” I intoned dryly, resuming my grip on the reins.

Shaking his head with a chuckle, he pulled on the horse’s reins to gallop back into the stables we had come full circle back to. I followed him inside, dismounting Cleo once we came to a stop.

“What’s next on the ‘Wes, get to work’ list?”

“That’s an awful list name. It sounds like you’re nagging at me.”

“‘Wes please finish your chores with a Friends episode on top?’”

A click of his tongue. “That’s not catchy enough.” Turning on his heel to face me, he smirked. “And I have to bathe some of the horses with the rest. I don’t think you’ll want to stay around.”

My nose wrinkled at my least favorite part of tending to the horses, one I never was fond of sticking around for. “Not particularly. I’ll clean Cleo up and be out of your hair.”

He laughed a bit then paused. “I’ll be done with that in a couple of hours if you want to come bug me again.” His tone was teasing, but I couldn’t help an encore of the flutter in my stomach that he actually liked having me around.

Still, I wasn’t going to let up my teasing any time soon, pursing my lips. “I’ll see what I can do.” I began to guide Cleo away by her reins, calling over my shoulder. “Be careful what you ask for!”

“Well, I asked for nothing!” he called back with a scoff, though I could hear a smile in his voice. A cute, crooked smile.

I simply wiggled my fingers in a wave and disappeared into Cleo’s stable, already planning the headache I would fake to sneak my way back here.

[larissatandyofficial]

Sirens.

Of all the places I have lived, there is only one that comes to mind when people ask me where I’m from. I didn’t grow up there, but I lived there for a crazy period of my life, when almost everything was going catastrophically wrong, and I was bonded to this place and the people who live there forever.

You can drive into my hometown, Murchison, from two different directions. Both have signs that state the population of the town, but they don’t match, so depending which way you arrive and leave, it's like a bunch of people just moved here, or a bunch of people just left. No one calls it Murchison. It's Murch. There's a pub with a wonky pool table, a post office which used to be run by some creepy twins, a pool I never swam in, a general store, one cop shop (police station) with just one cop (hey Ricky), and a winery just a minute out of town where two of my favourite people, guido and sandra make a bunch of great wines. Passing through this tiny town on the banks of the Goulburn river, you’d think not a lot happens here, but like every other small town in rural Australia, this unassuming facade belies the real goings on of the place.

Sure, there's the billions of years old meteorite that landed in Murch in the 60s. And the POW camp which is now a low security prison, just out of town. But there are things that have happened in that place which will never make it to wikipedia, or even be heard outside of conversations between locals. Because that's what it is like in small rural hamlets in australia. It always struck me, living out there, that rural life is so rich with Natural Drama. It seems like no one ever dies peacefully in their sleep - it's either some unbelievable, traumatic accident, or worse, someone just goes out to work one morning and they’re never seen or heard from again. And truthfully, it was my own experience of this - when my mum's partner passed away in a gruesome accident about a hundred feet from the front gate - that instantly made me a part of this town and it’s story. It's a story I relived on my 2017 album, The Grip. 

In small towns, you’re almost forced into community. Aside from joining forces to get necessary work done (because one person has the truck, one person has the labour, and one person has the hay), your life intersects with everyone in town eventually. You can’t disappear in the crowd and you get to know people that you might not naturally connect with in a big city, where you can pick and choose your interactions. In a small town, liking or disliking someone isn’t a thing - you just know them and that’s all. And when you get to know people, free of the expectation that you need to like each other in order to coexist, you discover that you have more in common than you ever could have imagined. Living in a small town, you can’t help but develop a familial fondness for everyone, whether you love them or don’t, because you start to know and understand the generations-long stories that made them who they are. 

My mum and I were working in our top paddock one day in the stinking heat. Our conversation drifted into talking about a guy we knew, and how he always seemed to land himself in trouble that he could have easily avoided. I was swatting flies away from my face when I said, “He’s a nice person. He just has that idiot streak.” I wrote it down. I put it in my bank of things to write about at some point. 

When I finally got round to working on that idea, I had left Murch, emigrated to Canada, and was living on Vancouver’s notorious Downtown East Side, perched on the seventh floor in my studio apartment. The Opioid crisis was raging in just a few blocks of the city and I lived right in the middle of it. Sirens wailed around me constantly while an unprecedented number of people lost their lives to fentanyl and carfentanil. It was confronting at first, with every siren reminding me that yet another family was having the worst day of their lives, but eventually my ears adjusted to the sirens, and I started to hear birds and low conversations on the street again. And as my ears adjusted, my mind did too, a self protective mechanism I guess, and I stopped pausing to think of what every siren represented, and got back to working and writing. I started writing exclusively in the key of E, which seemed to work with most of the sirens, setting them back into the music, creating harmonies to the melodies I was writing, and allowing me to focus. I kept writing about emergencies though. A song called SIRENS emerged. And this week, SIRENS is finally being released. 

The song's narrative came together quickly. What is now the final verse/outro was the first part I wrote. In trying to flesh out the idea of the idiot streak, I teased out a story in my mind of two bored kids getting themselves into trouble. It isn’t autobiographical, but it isn’t not - it reaches into the stories of my youth: a close friend losing control of her car and dying when I was 17, and the many times I found myself in unsafe cars with drunk teenagers behind the wheel, which in turn got me thinking about the recklessness, fueled by loneliness, that defined my life back then, growing up not straight and not in the city in the pre internet world. 

I recorded this song in Nashville, with my friend (and roommate at the time) John Little, at his little studio on Dickerson Pike. I was only a few days out from making the trek back north to Canada after a long stint in Tennessee. We were standing in our kitchen just off Trinity Lane throwing ideas around about who we’d like to bring in to play on the recording. I wanted a drummer and bassist that worked together a lot and had some kind of glue between them. John scratched his beard and said “oh we should get the Jons!”, meaning Estes and Radford. From there we quickly settled on trying to get Dan Knobler in to play guitar, and Ryan Brewer who I’d known back in Melbourne before either of us had made it to Nashville, to play keys. Dan also ended up mixing the songs.

I was a closeted Soul and Motown fan when I was a kid. While everyone was enraptured by Nirvana's Nevermind, and Pearl Jam’s Ten. I was making secret journeys to the city, riding the train for an hour to go buy cassettes. I’d fallen hard for Aretha and was slowly building a collection of her work bought with my burger flipping money that came in at $6.84 an hour. There was a guy at the record store I'd go to who helped me source some harder to find things, which had me reaching into Aretha's gospel catalogue. By way of these records I drifted into Motown, and  when I think back to that time in my life, every step I recall is punctuated with the sound that defined motown for me - The funk brothers. THAT tambourine. Jack Ashford. 

While listening back to what we’d just recorded that day in Nashville, Jon Estes and I got talking about tambourines, and off hand I said “Imagine if we could get Jack Ashford in to play on this”. Jon said “he's in Memphis you know”. And the conversation continued I think, but I was already thinking about how I could find him, and maybe record him. Was it even possible? I found what I could on the internet, and sent a Hail Mary email that I figured wouldn’t get to anyone, but later that night, my phone buzzed in my pocket. It was a Memphis number. Jack, now in his 80’s, was calling me. 

The next day John and I drove to Memphis and walked in the door at Ardent Studios, where so much of my own record collection was made, by artists like Wilco, Bob Dylan, Big Star, Al Green, Mavis Staples and so on. Big Star’s Jody Stephens now runs the studio and greeted us. We got set up in Studio B, Jack arrived, we recorded, we talked, we left. Then John and I tore out onto I-40 and headed back to Nashville, singing smokey robinson songs the whole way home.

So much has happened between that day and today, but I’m excited to finally share some of these songs. SIRENS is out today, but next month, and the month after that, there’ll be more songs. All of them will arrive with a companion music video made with Brian Lye, whose oddball genius I’ve admired from afar for years.

You can listen to Sirens HERE

Watch the music video HERE

And look at the Sirens T shirt design I did HERE. If you like it as much as everyone else seems to, there’s a way to get one for free… 

Just go to wherever you stream or consume music: Spotify, Apple Music, Deezer, Youtube, whatever.

1. Make a playlist of songs you think go well with my new single Sirens. 

2. Share your playlist on whatever social media you use, and tag me. 

I’ll send you a tshirt in your size if your playlist is my favourite. Extra points if it’s shared widely and listened to a lot. If I can’t decide which is my favourite (highly likely), and can’t pick a clear winner, I’ll just send out more t-shirts I guess. If all that seems like a lot of work, just go ahead and buy yourself a shirt HERE.

Feels weird to be sitting in North Vancouver, Canada, writing about a release that brings together my life in rural Australia, my life in Nashville, and my life in Canada. But I guess that's how it works. Thanks for reading and listening.