#it isn't technically a bass

[matchbet-allofthetime]

Okay so just wanna throw this out there

I need every sleep token member carnally

But right now, at this exact second?

IV is fucking me up

So many thoughts about him... Losing my shit. I need this 8-string bassbody playing sexy man with every fibre of my being rn

Biblical need, jesus

I've got hundreds of fic wips and I'm teetering the edge of becoming one of those fic writers (wink wonk) and have for a while- and I'm nearly about to topple over that edge solely because of sleep token (and ghost, I'll admit lmao)

IV has me in a headlock today and I'm struggling not to horny grip while I try to, yk, be a member of society on some innate level

NOTE: I know it isn't a fucking bass he plays, not technically. He plays that shit like a fucking bass (coming from a long-time bassist). Don't goddamn correct someone who is, irl, a bassist, please and thank you. I'm aware III is the bassist and IV is the guitarist.

[the-insomniac-emporium]

so in MuseScore (which I use to write music) you can give songs subtitles, which is mainly useful for helping differentiate songs with the same names/giving sources (like, if the song is just called Main Theme, the subtitle let's you make it clear that it's the main theme from Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword or something like that)

but I've been using it to add little lines (just one sentence) to kind of help remind me what vibe I'm going for with that particular song. some of them are references to videogames or classic literature, others are just prose. this one is my current favorite:

[celestialprincesse]

💕♤

Simon Riley, who you meet at the casino after a long night with a bad date, and you can't help but fixate on his clearly expensive suit clad back as he thumbs methodically through his cards at the poker table.

Simon Riley who doesn't dare stare back at you in your trance for fear of frightening you away like a startled doe. But hell if he doesn't love the way your eyelashes flutter slightly and your breathing becomes a little staccato.

When he catches your stare, you startle, torn between making a run for it and actually allowing yourself to live a little. When he beckons you over with an inviting tilt of his head, you decide the latter. Simon Riley plays at the high tables with the people who don't have to worry whether they win or lose, but unlike many of his cohorts, Simon does not drip with ostentatious wealth or ugly, monogrammed name brands.

"You play?" He hums to you, and his voice makes you squirm. His words feel sultry, seductive, like the bass which trembles through your feet at a club, despite his lack of technically seductive language. Your head shakes subtly as you angle him a wide eyed stare that definitely isn't meant to seem as erotic as it does - but when you gaze up at him with such reverence, he can't help but feel drawn to you.

When he asks if you'd like to, and you again deny him through fear of blowing all his cash due to your immense lack of a poker face, he guides you to sit with him anyways, at first on the edge of his chair, but after a few complimentary Martinis, on his lap. Most of the men at the table lech at you and your slippery, satiny dress like you're some high class whore invited to the table for their entertainment, but for Simon, you feel like luck on legs - pure class. He'd be lying if he said that he wouldn't like to take you back to his room and see tears filling those obscenely pretty eyes whilst you whimper around his cock, but he'd never act on it. Not when you look so nervous just sitting there on the sinewy muscle of his suited thigh. He can't say the same for some of the men he plays with.

He's careful to indicate that he's into you whilst not making you uncomfortable. A brush of his knuckles against the curve where your ribs meet your waist or a twist of his fingers around a stray lock of hair tells you enough without making you feel flighty - and when he offers to walk you back to your room in the early hours of the morning, he doesn't barge his way into your simple, impersonal hotel room, he simply leaves you with his suit jacket slung over your shoulders, phone number in the pocket and a promising kiss to the cheek.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

I wanted this to be a oneshot but now I have casino series brainworms ᥫ᭡

[urhoneycombwitch]

Ok ok hear me out I have a different idea now after reading your phone sex blurb

What about after Eddie comes back from his tour they're out with friends and some other girl is chatting him up, trying to rub up on him in front of reader. And she wants to stake her claim but she can't because he's not hers, not technically; and he isn't into the other girl's attention because he just wants reader, but he can't be too earnest about that bc it'll scare her off.

Do I want them to grind on the dancefloor or have sex in the bathroom? Yeah maybe

foreword: more roommate!Eddie x reader filth. secret situationship fucking at a party style. ty anon <3

wc: 1.8k

cw: secret FWB, Reader with breasts + vagina, femme pet names used, fingering (R receiving), the return of Eddie Cums-In-His-Pants Munson, wee bit angsty, lots of hidden longing

____

This party is the most sound your apartment has ever heard- speakers thrumming bass lines through the floorboards, drunken friends’ laughter echoing off walls.

You and Eddie planned ahead, started plotting weeks ago to bribe various neighbors in the building to avoid catching a noise complaint- scratch brownies for the floor below, some pre-rolls handed off across the hall, party invites extended to whoever was in earshot.

Informal karaoke kicked off around midnight, as the room rose in heat from extra bodies and alcoholic flush; Robin and Steve are bringing down the house on the other side of the bathroom door, charming the crowd with a belligerently intoxicated rendition of a Beastie Boys hit.

Eddie’s got you pressed against the sink, your ass to the unforgiving marble of the counter while he teases his teeth over the skin of your neck.

“No marks,” you whisper, fist seizing up at the root of his hair, tugging. He stifles a moan into your skin while you continue to tell him off, voice just under the protective layer of music. “It’s bad enough there’s only one bathroom in this place. Someone’s bound to notice we’re both gone-”

Eddie suddenly drops to his knees, nosing at the strip of skin above your jeans that he lifts your shirt to reveal. Your breath stutters, and he grins before popping the button with his teeth, chocolate eyes eclipsed by the black-lust of his pupils.

“No one’s gonna hear you, ‘cuz you’re not gonna make a sound. Got it?”

The gush of arousal that meets Eddie’s fingers is invitation enough. You rock into his hand, and he angles his fingers up- you take two of them like a dream, as if your cunt had just been waiting to be filled by those long, dexterous digits, cold rings quickly warming to the skin-temperature of your thighs.

“That’s it,” Eddie mumbles, never more mouthy than when he’s face to face with his favorite pastime. And then, as if reading your mind- “Been waitin’ for me all night, hm? Poor thing. So wet…”

Outside, the song rises into a fast guitar solo bridge, quickening along with your breaths. Hoping there’s enough sound barrier, you brace yourself with one hand on the counter while the other buries itself into the heat of Eddie’s scalp.

Soft, dark curls slip between your knuckles, your thumb brushing gently under the layer of bangs to touch the bare skin of his forehead. It’s too tender, too endearing for what the moment calls, in direct contrast with the way Eddie’s plunging into you, the insistent, budging slope of his nose near the pounding apex of your thighs.

“Becca’s gonna notice.” Your thumb tracks a path to Eddie’s temple, so now you’re just cradling his head as he fingers you into oblivion. “You know- ah- Becca? The girl from down the hall that you invited, specially?”

If it wasn’t for the public setting, you’d take more time to calculate which buttons of Eddie’s to push; as it stands, you’re sort of flailing around in the dark, hitting random ones and seeing what lights up.

Seems to do the trick, though- in one fluid motion, Eddie shoves your jeans the rest of the way down and takes one of your knees over his shoulders, giving himself enough room between your legs to dip forward and latch onto on your clit.

His plush lips suck, fervently, in time with the rhythm of his curled fingers, managing to hit into that gummy spot that buckles your knees.

“Well Becca- isn’t- here, right now,” Eddie says, around lapping mouthfuls of you, hand on your hip near-bruising with the force it takes to keep you upright. “Besides, she invited herself.”

“I dunno… you seemed pretty excited to see her.” The muscles of your abdomen clench, then release, your head tipping backwards to thunk against the mirror.

There’s an arch in your spine, now, enough space for Eddie’s hand to migrate from your hip to low back, pulling you more insistently onto his tongue and fingers.

In response, the spot behind your navel tightens again, pleasure swelling with the music. It’s irritating that Eddie thinks you’ll drop the subject in favor of an orgasm, so you aim for another button, lashes fluttering at the ceiling, voice stretched thin as your resolve- “She gonna stay the night? Use the same bathroom you’ve finger-banged some other b-”

The wet, hot pressure on your clit disappears, a whine of protest crawling from your throat before Eddie can smother it with his palm. Luckily, the living room speakers are kind of shitty, crackling with feedback as the song reaches fever pitch volume.

Eddie’s fingers still within you, stretching to depths that make your eyes roll back as he rises to cover the length of your body with his own. His hand is big and warm over the lower half of your face, breath an angry huff by your ear as he growls, low- “It’s probably in your best interest to not finish that sentence.”

It’s some consolation that you have the option to bite. Tempting as that is, you let your glare speak for itself, brows knitting together as Eddie draws back to look at you.

There’s a bead of sweat running down the side of his jaw, disappearing into the curls he’s let loose for the night. The eyeliner you’d carefully applied for him pre-party is blurred from the humidity and exertion, a rosy flush in his cheeks to match.

Eddie crowds your vision, close enough for you to note the tiny freckle under his left eye twitch, and for a moment, everything is just him- all you can see, hear, touch, smell, dopamine flooding in a head spin of hormones that respond despite your best efforts to tamp them down.

The background noise fades away, and it’s just you and Eddie, panting and straining against the other. A squelch, as he adds a third finger, your breasts pushing into the solid expanse of his chest as you squirm up, mindlessly seeking release.

“Be good and come ‘fore this song is over,” he’s saying, thick fingers scissoring, your resounding moan stifled by his palm. “Then I’ll kick everyone out and let you come again.”

It’s the promise of another that undoes you, thighs shaking with the growing wave, lashes tickling Eddie’s knuckles as your eyes slam shut.

He keeps all the points of pressure that you need, plus more- hips pinning the frenetic rolls of your torso, tips of his fingers coaxing bright spasms from the channel of your cunt, forehead pressed like an anchor to your own as your body sings.

The whole time, he’s talking you through it, deep timbre just for your ears with rasping praise and encouragement. “Oh, fuck, sweetheart, that’s it. That’s it. Good. Let it all out. S’just me here, yeah? Just you and me. Fuck…”

By the time your hearing returns, Eddie’s dotting soothing kisses up the curve of your neck, apparently trusting you enough to let his hand drop from your mouth. You take a few deep, shuddering breaths, hand still buried in Eddie’s hair like a lifeline.

He doesn’t seem to mind, taking his sweet time pulling out of you, disentangling himself with lingering touches to any remaining bare skin.

While he tugs your shirt back into place, you turn to face the mirror, smoothing over flyaways and making sure you look somewhat presentable. You let Eddie’s hands roam as your heart rate stutters, working itself back down to normal while he refixes the button of your jeans.

His chin settles on your shoulder, arms twining around your middle; you let him take some of your weight, relaxing into his hold, eyes catching his in the mirror as you ask, quietly, “You want me to wingman for you? She seems nice. And it’s never a bad idea to sleep with someone who lives in your building.”

Eddie snorts, your dry attempt at a joke working wonders, grin on its way to devastating greeting your reflection. “You seriously think I’m the one who needs help? After the time I just showed ya?”

“Well based on my limited data-” your hips grind backwards without warning, and Eddie stiffens, smile slipping from his face as your own wicked grin takes over- “-I’d say you’re the one who came in his pants just from touching me.”

You wriggle in his arms to turn around, noses bumping, lips hovering in a not-quite-kiss as you whisper, “Say please and I’ll run and get you some new pants. Hand-delivered.”

Even with the wall of party noise, there’s a distinctive click as Eddie’s jaw ticks. He acquiesces, though, stopping somewhere just shy of grateful to grit out, “Please.”

You hum, pleased and thoughtful, leaning out of his space to lift a brow- “I think Becca’s into blue-collared boys.”

This fact, you’re basing off the one time you saw a UPS guy at your neighbor’s door. Sounds a lot better if you act like you know what you’re talking about, though, as if the list of things you know about Becca is longer than black hair and occasionally receives packages.

Distance, safety, one and the same, even though what your body begs for is to get closer, to soak all your senses in Eddie again. You wind a particularly pretty curl of his around your index finger. “Those khakis you wore once to Robin’s grad party and then never again- bottom drawer?”

When Eddie nods, he fixes you with a glare, nostrils flaring like he’s about to tell you off.

Before he can, though, you’ve wriggled from his grasp, reaching for the door handle with strict, hissy instructions about locking it after you’re gone and only opening for your special knock.

He obeys, deadbolt sliding into place, door swallowing the noise of the party in your absence.

It’s just Eddie now, leaning into hands over the sink, breathing hard like he hasn’t already blown a load three minutes ago.

The entire length of his middle fingers shimmer in the light, still coated with your arousal.

Eddie’s mouth waters. He thinks about you; how for a second, you were the only thing on his mind, how rare that is, for him to be so singularly focused.

Then he thinks about Becca. And stupid tight fucking dress pants.

The sink water gushes to a start as he jerks the handle on, sudsy hand soap scrubbing away at the smell of you, carrying it down the drain.

By the time you’re back, dreaded pants in hand, Eddie’s fixed an easy smile on his face, bickering at the ready. Almost normal, and certainly familiar.

It’s just simpler to keep some distance. Close quarters aside.

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @steddiebingo.

Black Velvet, If You Please

12 Days of Christmas Prompt: Velvet | Word Count: 1113 | Rating: T | CW: Language | POV: Steve | Tags: Future Fic, Established Relationship, Famous Corroded Coffin, Corroded Coffin Guys, Steve Trolling Eddie, Because He Loves Him

It's tacky. Kitsch. An oversized eyesore. 

And it's perfect. 

Steve couldn't be more pleased. It's exactly what he envisioned and more when he commissioned it.

He watches the artist carefully wrap it, then with their help, Steve picks up one side of the frame, both of them wrangling it carefully so they don't drop it, and carry it out to the waiting car. Gareth's behind the wheel, engine running, like he's the driver of a getaway car. 

He kind of is. Eddie's gonna consider this a crime.

And Steve loves it.

They very carefully place it in the folded down backseat of Gareth's ridiculously huge SUV, which for the first time in history actually came in handy. Steve shakes the artist's hand, and then climbs in the passenger side. 

"Well. Let me see it," Gareth says.

"It's wrapped, you can see it when we get it to the house," Steve explains. He's definitely not unwrapping it until they get it home safely.

Gareth mutters, but agrees, and puts the car into drive. 

Heist over, bounty secured.

Once it's safely hidden away inside the pool house, Steve gently peels back the brown paper and cardboard that has been protecting it.

Gareth leans forward, as if that'll help him get a better look. It's huge. He could see it from across the lawn. 

"Holy shit," Gareth says. 

"I know," Steve laughs, delighted. 

"It takes talent to craft something so magnificently ugly," Gareth says, and Steve agrees. It's ugly because it's on black velvet. That's kind of its thing. But it's not technically bad, nowhere near. It looks just like Eddie, and cost a pretty penny, but Steve definitely got his money's worth. Because the painting is damn good, and exactly what he commissioned.

But utterly and completely ridiculous.

Eddie — on black velvet. 

Christmas is gonna be so good this year.

"Why are you talking all the pictures off the wall?" Eddie asks, laying on the couch, eating popcorn, watching the annual A Christmas Story marathon. He's said he isn't moving today, and Steve is taking advantage of that. Eddie won't ask too many questions, for once in his life. Because if he does, he's scared he'll have to help.

"Gonna dust the frames, maybe change things up," Steve says, clearing off the entire wall behind the couch.

Eddie just shrugs, and goes back to watching the Bumpus hounds wreak havoc on the turkey dinner.

And Steve turns back towards the wall, grinning to himself, as he carefully measures, then drills the new holes in the wall to anchor it. 

It's like a black ops mission. Steve crawls out of bed just after four a.m. and when he gets downstairs, Gareth, Jeff and Goodie are all standing around waiting. 

"Sorry. Overslept. I couldn't set an alarm," Steve whispers, and they just nod, looking tired. He appreciates them all getting up early on Christmas morning just to help pull this off. 

Steve stands on one of the dining room chairs, Jeff on another while the other two hold the bottom of the giant frame.

"This is a ridiculous way to spend money," Goodie grumbles.

"Says the man with so many basses that he needs storage units, plural," Gareth banters back.

"Those are for work," Goodie snaps, a little too loudly.

"Sshh!" Steve shushes.

And in an unprecedented move, they stop fussing and fighting. 

It's a Christmas miracle.

They get it hung, and the holes Steve drilled yesterday actually work perfectly. He was worried his measurements would be off, and then they'd be screwed. Eddie can sleep through anything, but maybe not power tools in the middle of the night.

"He's gonna shit," Jeff says, and Steve giggles. That about sums it up.

They scatter, back to their own homes, their own families, and Steve goes back to bed. 

With no kids, Eddie isn't exactly raring to hop out of bed first thing in the morning, even on Christmas. This will work in their advantage.

Steve stays still in bed, waiting until he hears the first signs of movement from downstairs. They're back. After having Christmas morning with their families, they've all returned to see Eddie's face when he notices this thing for the first time. 

Steve gets up, and heads down, and with help gets brunch started. They always do a full spread, the works, and today is no exception. Bacon, eggs, pancakes, biscuits and gravy, ham steak, hash browns, and every burner and the oven are being fired up all at once.

The kids are all screaming at a dull roar, showing each other their new toys from Santa, and Harrington House feels like a home in a way it never did while Steve was growing up.

He loves it.

They finally hear Eddie moving around upstairs. He's loud, by nature, so there was no chance he was gonna sneak up on them.

Steve carefully wrapped the front of the painting after it was hung, anyway, so even if he did, they wouldn't miss his reaction. 

"He's coming," Gareth says, stating the obvious.

"He's gonna kill you," Goodie says to Steve, "and I'm gonna tell him Gareth helped."

Gareth makes a noise, and Jeff steps in to intervene. They can't have bloodshed before breakfast.

Then Eddie's coming, heavy feet bounding down the stairs, and they all freeze. Waiting for him to go through the living room.

"What the fuck is that?" Eddie hollers, "Steve?!"

Steve just smiles, and throws his tea towel over his shoulder. When he walks through the doorway, everybody following, Eddie is standing in front of the wrapped painting. 

"I don't know. Santa must have brought it," Steve lies, and Eddie turns to look at him.

"What'd you do?"

"Open it and find out," Steve says, and Eddie grabs a corner of the wrapping paper and tears. It doesn't come off in full, but it reveals a hint at what's to come.

"You did not," Eddie says, as he pulls more of the paper loose.

Steve did. He definitely did.

Eddie bends over at the waist and laughs, "I hate you. I hate it."

Then, he stands up, throwing his arms around Steve's neck, "I love it. I love you."

Steve laughs, that's about what he expected. And Eddie pulls away to study it again, as all their friends hoot and holler in the background, riling him up further as they all look at it. 

Eddie, painted in his onstage glory, young and wild, on black velvet.

Steve watches as Eddie reaches out to touch the canvas, "Black velvet. Like I'm Elvis."

Yep. That's exactly what Steve had in mind.

Eddie turns back to grin at Steve, "Has Wayne seen this yet?"

If you want to sign up for a future bingo event or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddiebingo and follow along with the fun!

Notes: The "painting" image is from this statue of Eddie that's for sale. I thought I could make it look more like a painting than an actual picture from the show.

The title come from the song Black Velvet by Alannah Myles.

[internetskiff]

I've sometimes seen this sentiment, especially among reviewers, that SOMA's WAU ""monster plot"" contributes nothing to the main game's story, and that the storyline would infact benefit from the WAU's removal. If you ask me, that couldn't be further from the truth. The WAU is at the root of everything. Frankly, it's the main reason the game's moral dilemmas are.. well, dilemmas at all. If the WAU wasn't making monsters, wasn't there to warp the life around Pathos-II as it saw fit, the game wouldn't have even started. Pathos-II would've just remained dormant forever. Simon wouldn't be there, and neither would any of the obstacles he faces on his journey to preserve humanity. The main reason the WAU isn't directly beneficial to Earth is exactly because its understanding of "life" is so skewed. Its not just bringing things back - its bringing them back incorrectly. Every single "monster" we meet builds a case both against and for the WAU's continued existence.

The Construct shows the WAU's failure to understand humanity in the physical sense, shoving a Human brain scan into a misshapen robot body and calling it a day, leaving it to babble to itself as it aimlessly wanders the halls of Upsilon.

The same could be said for Carl Semken and the other Mockingbirds, though to a lesser degree - though capable of speech, they're still very delusional and oftentimes end up going insane. Still, in some ways you see the WAU's understanding of human psychology progress with each new mockingbird - they become increasingly coherent and increasingly sane, Catherine and Robin Bass being great examples. While the Construct has lost so much of itself you can no longer tell who it used to be, the other Mockingbirds have their sense of self intact. With the WAU's unreliable nature cemented, we move on to its attempts at preserving humans physically, with Amy Azarro being the first proper example Simon gets to witness.

She's kept alive in what seems to be a perpetual state of discomfort, and judging by the structure gel slowly overtaking her I believe the WAU may be slowly converting her into one of the Fleshers. Its keeping her alive, yes, but its doing so at any cost necessary - it doesn't matter if she's in constant pain as long as she doesn't flatline. Its treatment of actual organisms is practically an inversion of its treatment of the Mockingbirds - instead of prioritizing the mental wellbeing of the subject, the WAU prioritizes their physical wellbeing with little to no care for the mental state its "patient" is in the entire time.

Fleshers live and breathe, but they seemingly aren't "all there" at all. The lights are on, but no one's home anymore. All they do is wander the ruins of the CURIE and lash out at anyone who enters their territory - the WAU has basically reduced them to animals.

Terry's been driven insane from all the structure gel infesting his insides, and though his goal was "technically" benevolent (putting everyone into a permanent dream state where the WAU could make them live the best possible versions of their lives), he achieved it through incredibly violent means, conducting what was basically an attack on Theta and causing its downfall. So far, its attempts at preserving humans physically have simply resulted in increasingly grotesque and violent monstrosities - but I would argue you see that begin to change when Simon reaches Omicron.

When you reach it, you see the aftermath of a particularly gruesome procedure WAU had carried out - everyone's blackboxes have exploded, turning their heads to mush. We find out that one of the employees, with the help of someone particularly close to the WAU, had figured out how to poison it. They have been receiving "visions" and "messages" from a comatose Johan Ross - the WAU's "AI psychologist", someone it desperately tried to restore from a comatose state by manipulating structure gel with electromagnetic fields. Either the WAU deliberately retaliated when it figured out the poisoning plot, or it had simply overdone it when restoring Johan Ross - sacrificing an entire station's worth of lives to bring someone back. Either way this shows a tremendous amount of intelligence on the WAU's part - and also paints it as either exceptionally cruel or exceptionally empathetic depending on the perspective you view it from. Either it considered Johan so important to it that it was willing to sacrifice most Omicron staff, or it was willing to violently retaliate in order to preserve itself. Either way, Omicron houses what I believe to be a sign of the WAU's steadily improving understanding of humanity - Dr. Johan Ross.

He has been restored with both his physical health and mental faculties (relatively) intact. He isn't violent, and he perfectly understands what condition he is currently in - but despite that he doesn't seem to be physically suffering. He is still driven to eliminate the WAU, but it seems to be less out of personal suffering and more out of fear in regards to the suffering its other creations may go through. I believe he's an example of a semi-perfectly restored human - both him and Simon himself. They're both cases of, as Catherine puts it, "a sound mind in a sound body". But although the signs are there, there is no outright definitive proof that the WAU's creations will only continue to get better.

And that's what makes the game's final moral dilemma so compelling to me. The whole game has been providing us with both evidence and counterevidence towards the WAU's idea of restoring humanity. Now, it's up to you to act as its jury and executioner. By killing it you either stop it from torturing the memory of humanity, or you doom humanity to extinction in all senses of the word. By keeping it alive, you either doom the remnants of humanity to an eternal torturous existence, or you give the WAU a chance at creating something new. There is no way of knowing what choice is correct - because you don't know what the WAU is thinking. You never get to. You don't know its plans, you don't know if it even has the capacity to actually learn from its mistakes, hell, you don't even know if its capable of thought - but here it is. Making things. Terrible things, but there's a chance that it'll only get better with time. Simon himself is evidence of that chance. It has already managed to make what could be classified as a "complete" person. And if you kill it, Simon's going to be the last "complete" person it managed to bring back.

[grison-in-space]

Currently rereading Eric Flint's 1632 and reflecting on just how influential Flint was to me and my approach to both praxis and politics as a teenager. I found Flint when I was about thirteen or fourteen, around the time I found Pratchett I think, and he's left an equally wide thumbprint on my soul. Isn't that the most wonderful thing about stories, that people you've never met can help shape our adult selves? Mother of Demons I often recommend for its SFF worldbuilding--Flint built a species with at least four genders, only some of which are reproductive, and associated "normal" sexual orientations, and then proceeded to write in a textually intersex character and queer the hell out of it.

1632, though, is the one where a little West Virginia town in 2000 gets picked up and dropped in the middle of Thuringia, Germany in the eponymous year--right in the middle of the Thirty Years War. The local United Mine Workers of America chapter plays a major role, particularly its head.

As I write this I'm listening to the scene where the little town of Grantville, having admitted after a few days that they are probably not ever going home, is crowded into the high school gymnasium listening to the mayor lay that reality out and suggesting an interim council to help the town set out a sort of constitutional convention so they can work out what on earth they're going to do moving forward--especially since there's a bunch of displaced refugees collecting in the forests nearby. Sensible of them, really; the Americans murdered the shit out of the local soldiers that displaced them, on account of how the shaken mine workers that went out to figure out WTF happened not being super down with suddenly running into a bunch of fuckheads raping the locals and torturing people to find out where their valuables might be. After that, said Americans proceeded to retreat into the town boundaries and gibber quietly to themselves. I would go lurk in their woods, too.

Anyway, the mayor sets up this proposal, everyone agrees, and a CEO who was visiting for his son's wedding at the time steps forward and says: look. I know how to lead, and I'm probably the most qualified person here. I lead a major industry corporation effectively and I did that after my time as a Navy officer. I put myself forward because I'm qualified. Now, we're going to need to circle the wagons to get through the winter, tighten our belts, but we can get through this. We can't support all these refugees, though; we'll have to seal the border so they can't bring disease--they're a drain on our resources we can't afford--

and the UMWA guy, he gets really mad listening to this. There's this Sephardic refugee woman he's real taken with who got swept up in the town first thing, and she's sitting in and listening; he's thinking about throwing her out, thinking about how much she knows about the place they're found in, and he's furious. But he gets a good grip on his anger and he marches up and he says, look. This dude has been here two days and he's already talking about downsizing?! You're going to listen to this CEO talking about cuts, cuts, cuts? Nah. Trying to circle the wagons is probably impossible, it's stupid, and if you think my men and I are going to enforce that, you can fuck off. That proposal is inside out and bass ackwards. We've got about a six mile diameter of Grantville here; how much food do YOU think we're going to grow? How about the soldiers wandering around, do you think we're going to be able to fight armies off on our lonesome? Look at the few refugees we already have in the room, they'll tell you how those armies will treat you! We could do it for a while, the amount of gun nuts here, but so what? We don't have enough people to shoot them! Not if we're going to do anything else to keep us going! We have about six months of stockpiled coal to keep going, and without another source or getting the coal mines working, we're screwed. We have technical strength but we don't have the supplies or resources we would need to maintain it. Those refugees? They're resources. We need people to do the work we will need to keep ourselves. The hell with downsizing; let's grow outwards! Bring people in, give them safety, see what they can bring to the table once they've had a moment! He invokes: send us your tired, your poor!, and the CEO yells in frustration: this isn't America! so he yells back "it will be!"

And of course everyone cheers. I love Flint for many reasons but he is unapologetic about affection for the America of ideals--ideals, he freely admits, that are often honored in the breach rather than the observance, ideals that are messy and flawed, but nevertheless ideals that can work to inspire us to become the best version of ourselves. For Flint, history is as valuable as a source of stories to inspire ourselves as it is a repository of knowledge, and on this I tend to agree with him. We must learn from our moments of shame but equally we must learn from moments that show us how to be our best selves.

It's been twenty three years and the text is now an interesting historical document in its own right, hitting points and rhythms in beats that are sometimes out of place today. It's not perfect. But the novel contains a commitment to joy and to emphasizing the leaps of faith and understanding that regular, everyday people make every day to try and support each other that I routinely try to match in my writing.

Anyway, one of the strengths of the novel, I think, is its gender politics: it's a very ensemble kind of novel, lots of characters, and it's preoccupied with positive masculinity in a lot of ways. There's a lot of these hyper masculine characters--Mike Stearns perhaps more than anyone else--and--and...

... And Flint's characterization of Stearns, as he sketches out who the man is--his pivotal American leader, ex boxer, working class organizer, big man.... well, it lands equally on "he is delighted and astonished to find a local woman who quickly assesses how the cushion of air in tires works," and "he considers who to set up a Jewish refugee in the middle of Germany up with and he thinks to ask the Jewish family he grew up with to host her and her ill father because he thinks she'll be most comfortable there", and "he views people as potential assets rather than potential drains." A younger man asks him for advice on whether to pursue a professional sports career because of the boxing and he says no, you're in the worst place of not being quite good enough and you'll blow out your knees without accomplishing safety. He frames that interaction such that he allows his own experiences to make him vulnerable and invite the younger man to understand when a struggle have worth it.

It's actually a really deft portrayal of intense masculinity that also makes a virtue of a bunch of traits more usually associated with women: empathy, relational sensitivity, the ability to listen. As a blueprint for what a positive masculinity can look like, vs the toxic kind, it's very well done. I think sometimes when we look at gender roles in terms of virtues, and when masculinity is defined in terms of opposition to femininity, people get lost by arguing that virtues assigned to one gender are somehow antithetical to another gender. In fact that's never been the case: virtues are wholly neutral and can appear in any gender. What the gender does is inflect the ways we expect that virtue to appear in terms of individuals' actions within their society.

Gender isn't purely an individual trait, basically; it's a product of our collective associations. Two characters with different genders can display the same virtues and strengths, but we imagine them expressed in different ways according to our cultural expectations around gender. And I just think that's neat.

[willoillo]

If Carnelian has been assigned brass then French horn or trombone are also solid contenders! But I have not specifically checked what is most common in a marching band to consider that angle with my offered widening of your selection to pick between.

I ended up figuring out how to make her play a trumpet, I think I just needed rest yesterday xD

I think brass is a good fit for Carnelian since it's very loud and straightforward, with a military history? Like it suits the kind of stuff she likes. I wanted to give her a trumpet specifically to add a bit more range to the group-- we don't have a lot of treble in the group so far; technically speaking Qibli, Moon and Kinkajou are all on percussion instruments (although Moon's is melodic), Winter's cello is in the alto-bass range, Umber's on a double bass, Turtle isn't playing anything.

I'm pretty sure dragons couldn't actually play brass or reed instruments, though? Like, they're designed to work around lips? You vibrate your lips and the brass instrument amplifies it.... and dragons don't have lips. xD That's what stylization is for though wheeeee

[nya-defense-club]

My Ninja Design Headcanons!

Cole!

The Eldest of the group!

A very big guy, like 195cm, and very broad as well

Big arms to hug his friends well

Blasian! (I'd say Japanese/West African maybe?)

Doesn't scar super easily, but keeps his scar from Day of The Departed

Rough hands from all the manual labour he did/does

His fingers also have callouses due to the fact he plays bass.

Zane

Technically the oldest, but not really.

Very tall (190cm), but lankier in comparison to Cole so not quite as intimidating

Very long, soft fingers. Perfect for cooking.

Blasian! (Japanese/Southern African maybe?)

His eyes reflect light in the dark and it spooks the others

His freckles are actually a sign of his cloak technology!

He isn't the most naturally expressive but as time goes on he learns to be

Kai

Middle (ish) of the group, but an older brother at heart

Tall (180cm) and leaner, very practical muscle

Southeast Asian (Filipino)

Scars very easily and has them all over his body well predating his ninja days

Very calloused hands from his blacksmith work

(His hair is a bit darker in colour than depicted here)

Jay

A younger sibling and owns it

Average height (174cm) and despairs in it

Wasian (Japanese/American)

His freckles only grow in numbers as time goes on (But Nya loves them so he does too)

Thin fingers perfect for getting into the machinery bits

Doesn't scar easily but does bruise easily

Got ear piercings to match Nya, but quickly learnt metal + electricity was a very bad idea

(His hair is a bit more auburn in colour than depicted here)

Nya

A youngest sibling and hates it

Average height (170cm) and despairs, she has been the victim of far too many arm rests

Southeast Asian (Filipino)

Rough hands from doing odd jobs throughout her childhood

She lost all her scars post seabound, misses them

Loves piercings and was the one who convinced Kai to pierce his ears as well as the one to do it.

Lloyd

The Ultimate (TM) youngest sibling and absolutely abuses it

Short (167cm) until he reaches a true growth spurt when he's like 20 and then he's average (173cm)

Japanese

Long fingers, (almost too long) and long nails as well from his mixed heritage

Loves having earing that match Nya & Kai

A lot of scars, though they tend to fade quickly due to his heritage

His largest is from Garmadon during their fight in season 9.

Never experiences acne much to the consternation of the other ninja

His face when it's not a serious situation is almost always :3 along with Nya

[theclaravoyant]

fireworks - bucktommy (T, ~1000wd)

AN ~ now taking prompts! because i can't help myself . in the meantime please enjoy this little hurtcomfort, inspired by the prompts "late night conversations/anxiety" for upcoming @evanbuckleyweek <3 (I couldn't wait that long!)

also on AO3.

-

Can't make it tonight babe :( Not feeling so hot.

Buck is running late, but not so late that he doesn't have time to stop by on his way to the Grant-Nash gathering for a little bit of boyfriending. Tommy had sadly had to pull out of this one, but not to worry, Buck has brought over his favourite meatball sub in case he's feeling like a pick me up.. and a bottle of ginger ale in case he's not.

Either way, as he approaches the front door Buck is surprised to hear music so loud – albeit muffled – that the bass in it shakes the windows.

“Tommy?”

He frowns. He, for one, isn't one to blast his workout mix when he's stuck in bed, or bent over a toilet bowl, or whatever other nastiness supposedly awaits him. The lights are off inside.

Brought dinner, he taps into his phone. All good?

He bounces on the balls of his feet.

Babe, let me in x

There's no response, not even those little bouncing dots. Buck is definitely not thinking about Tommy passed out on the living room floor or kidnapped or something. But he does pull up Athena's number before he reaches for the spare key. Just in case.

“Babe!” he calls, looking around. The house is dark. This still feels like something he shouldn't really be doing. “Tommy!”

He follows the sound toward the basement stairs, where light is coming through. From down below, he hears the grunts and slaps of rigorous exercise... or something else, and it dawns on him that well, he and Tommy haven't technically agreed, haven't really discussed, if they're exclusive or anything and he might be intruding on something and that little voice in the back of his head that tells him nobody's ever all in is getting so loud... He freezes at the bottom of the stairs, just before he can turn the corner and see something. What the hell is he doing. How fast can he back track without Tommy noticing that he's being jealous and weird and-

The music stops.

Well. Here goes.

-

“Evan?”

Tommy can't help it, his face lights up at the sight of him. Which is weird, because Evan looks sort of mortified. Probably because Tommy had bailed on something important to him under the guise of being sick and here he is, very much not throwing up or hiding from the light or anything, slicked with so much sweat his hair has dropped a few shades in colour.

“Tommy. Y- You're feeling better?”

“You brought a sandwich?”

“Botticelli's.”

Damn it. Tommy throws his head back, closes his eyes as a pang of guilt punches through him. The kid went and brought his favourite sandwich. He just wants to make sure he's okay. Damn it, damn it.

“I can explain.”

“Is this because you're not ready to meet Athena? 'Cause she can give one hell of a shovel talk but she's cool, really.”

“I've met Athena,” Tommy assures him. In spite of himself, a smile touches his lips, because that was kind of a significant part of this whole thing. “Evan – I promise, this has nothing to do with us.”

It seems to help a little bit. At least, enough that Evan trails after him into the basement proper while he paces and takes a swig of water and tries to wrangle the courage to say it.

“The fourth of July is just... not my thing,” he manages. “I don't really like fireworks.”

He looks Evan in the eyes as he puts it together. Maybe he knows Eddie doesn't either, maybe he knows it's a common trigger for veterans, maybe he just knows what it's like to try and pack the depths of unspeakable horror into words. Especially when you're meant to be a badass fearless firefighter.

“I'm sorry,” Evan says. The fear and confusion and anguish melts away, his expression painfully earnest and concerned as he closes the distance between them. Part of Tommy wants to bury his face, to freeze like a rabbit or run and hide, but something about Evan, as always, makes him stay.

“I'm sorry,” he breathes. “I didn't mean to lie. I'm just … used to dealing with this by myself. And you- you're so- I mean, you died? You actually, for real died in a thunder storm and you got in a helicopter to fly into a hurricane like it was nothing. I guess I worried you wouldn't get it.”

Evan cups a hand around the back of his neck and it's grounding, it's nice, and Tommy's forehead falls forward against Evan's. He takes a ragged breath. Evan's phone starts ringing.

“You don't have to tell me,” Evan says, “what you've been through. But I'm here for you, okay? If you want me.” He glances at his phone and adds- “It's Maddie. Just checking where I'm at. Want me to tell them I'm not coming?”

Tommy shakes his head. “No. Go. I'll be alright here, have a night in. My boyfriend brought me my favourite sandwich."

-

He smiles. Buck smiles back, and presses forward a gentle, comforting kiss before they part. Tommy shakes it off as he heads back toward the stairs, but there's a long stretch of silence. The muffled whistle and echoing boom of an airbomb sails overhead and he can hear Tommy's breath quietly catch and it's almost as if it pulls out the words from his chest.

“I can't remember the lightning.”

“Hm?”

He turns back. Tommy is watching after him.

“I can't remember the lightning, Tommy. That's probably why I can fly into a hurricane. It's- actually it's pineapple jello for me. It was all I could eat for weeks after they took the tubes out. Pineapple jello and vanilla icecream. The first time I smelt a piña colada after I got out, I thought I was going to die.”

I get it.

Tommy nods. After a beat, he adds-

“And hey, Evan. This is something I kind of like to keep to myself. So if anyone asks-”

“Violent gastro. Got it.”

He rolls his eyes, and huffs, and smiles as he tucks the little foam earplug back in place.

“I love you, too.”

[goodnightmemes]

DEXTER SEASON FOUR SENTENCE STARTERS

❛ There's this cliche where serial killers are always described as, "quiet, kept to himself, kind of a loner." It's a cliche for a reason.❜

❛ How much are we living the dream? ❜

❛ I need a good kill. ❜

❛ The coroner can suck my uncircumcised dick If he doesn't rule this a homicide. ❜

❛ You know, when things are going good, I think that's god's way of saying to cover your ass, because something's gonna jump up and bite it, hard. ❜

❛ Who knew life could get so... unsimple? ❜

❛ Fuck off and die. Then die again. ❜

❛ Blood tells. Blood always tells. ❜

❛ Not really anybody else I can tell about that, you know? ❜

❛ I've already lost my innocence. I'm not going to sacrifice yours too. ❜

❛ Life has a natural forward momentum. Certain things are inevitable. ❜

❛ My keen forensic sense of smell tells me you're wearing new perfume. ❜

❛ If you smell me again, I'll punch you in the throat. ❜

❛ You've got a family to support and people to dismember. You're spinning too many plates. ❜

❛ Dude, there's no "me" in "team.". Well, technically there is, but… ❜

❛ We could grab dinner, review the case, maybe catch a bad guy. ❜

❛ I was off my game. Sloppy. ❜

❛ For the first time in so long, I'm actually...happy. ❜

❛ So if you've come back here to rekindle something between us, it's not gonna happen. ❜

❛ Dude, seriously, 86 the caffeine. You're freaking me out. ❜

❛ The danger of community is that the people who don't belong are looked upon with suspicion. Those of us who prefer to work by ourselves, The lone wolves, risk being singled out. ❜

❛ This blending in thing isn't as easy as it looks. ❜

❛ How come you never make the coffee, even if you're up first? ❜

❛ Climb in the back. You'll be right on the subwoofer. You can feel the bass in your spine. ❜

❛ Great, security lights. Just what every serial killer needs. ❜

❛ I hope you're not taking any of this seriously. ❜

❛ I'd know that foul mouth anywhere. ❜

❛ Wow. That's impressive. In a very evil way. ❜

❛ People like us don't really belong anywhere. We just pass through. ❜

❛ When you're angry, you're very sexy, so this could be sort of a win-win for me. ❜

❛ You're exactly the same as me, just in a much prettier package. ❜

❛ Monsters come in all shapes and sizes. Sometimes it's the very people who are supposed to be protecting us:. ❜

❛ Don't make me come up with thought bubbles to put over those silent looks of yours. Just say what you're thinking. ❜

❛ I thought I could keep my feelings for you as background noise to this investigation. But, in working with you, that noise has gotten...loud. ❜

❛ You're the one who wanted a challenge. And now you've batted the beehive. ❜

❛ I never leave anything to chance. ❜

❛ What, are you gonna murder me too? Like you murdered your family? ❜

❛ You're sick. I know what you did. I have proof. ❜

❛ Go ahead. Tell them. No one is going to believe you over me. ❜

❛ You can't hide what you are. ❜

❛ You're going to have to choose. You will choose your life over theirs. ❜

❛ I'd rather risk them knowing the truth...than lose them. ❜

❛ Don't go disappearing on me again. ❜

❛ Every crime scene is a jigsaw puzzle. So many pieces. Assemble them right, a picture forms. ❜

❛ I didn't feel anything. I didn't even know I'd been hit until I was on the ground. ❜

❛ You deserve so much better. ❜

❛ So much work. But I have to finish what I started, right? ❜

❛ You fucked me to thank me? ❜

❛ So when do you suppose it'll be a good time to discuss why you lied to me? ❜

❛ This isn't about choices or even about you. Sometimes bad things just happen. ❜

❛ That's the answer to this? Bad things happen? ❜

❛ I know this doesn't change what happened, but hopefully you'll find some peace of mind knowing this thing's over. ❜

❛ What the fuck's your problem? You have everything, and you're doing your goddamn best to throw it all away. ❜

❛ I'm the fuck-up in the family. Not you. ❜

❛ It doesn't matter what I do. Or what I choose. I'm what's wrong. ❜

❛ If I'm not hurting myself, I'm hurting everyone around me. There's nothing I can do about it. I'm... I'm broken. ❜

❛ The most disturbing thing about your lying is that... I'm beginning to see just how good you really are at it. ❜

❛ I'm perfectly comfortable with bodily fluids: blood, snot, tears. But the emotions that go along with them, not so much. ❜

❛ I don't want to keep making the same mistakes. ❜

❛ I need a partner. Someone I can trust. Unless you can be completely honest with me...I don't want to do this anymore. ❜

❛ She's picturing her life without me, and I can't picture mine without her. ❜

❛ He can only be honest with the dead. ❜

❛ People just do this? Say what they're thinking? Out loud? ❜

❛ How are we supposed to decide what's more important? Our jobs or each other? ❜

❛ I had to evolve. It was the only way to survive. ❜

❛ As much as we might like some things to remain suspended in time, they never do. ❜

❛ The last thing I need is a reporter snooping around my house, my family, me. ❜

❛ Take a bullet and suddenly you're everybody's best friend. ❜

❛ Fat Jesus on a bike, get me out of here. ❜

❛ Sorry I'm late. Actually, that's bullshit. I'm not late. I was hiding at the end of the hall. ❜

❛ You taught me a lot of things I learned were wrong. ❜

❛ Isn't that what life is? A risk? ❜

❛ Okay, two serial killers go for a ride...Why do I get the feeling this joke ends with only one of them coming back? ❜

❛ It's every father's nightmare...disappointing his children. ❜

❛ Life is hard, and it's brutal and ugly, and way too fucking short. ❜

❛ The slightest lapse of judgment can be a mistake you might never recover from. ❜

❛ I killed an innocent man. ❜

❛ No, no "should'ves." I don't do "should'ves." That's not me. ❜

❛ I really do need to stab something. ❜

❛ Maybe you could show some of that same bravery by sharing what's bothering you. ❜

❛ There are few things harder to bear than remorse. ❜

❛ Guilt. Remorse. It's what separates us from the animals. ❜

❛ The best deed I can do is rid the world of you. ❜

❛ How about a little support? You know, like a hug?  Or an "everything's gonna be all right"? ❜

❛ We all need to confess our mistakes, so we can go into the light unburdened. ❜

❛ Jesus, they're just tits. ❜

❛ No more confessions, no more good deeds, and no more fucking remorse. ❜

❛ This isn't how you die. ❜

❛ Maybe only monsters feel no regret. If erring is human, then remorse must be too. ❜

❛ You should have just let him die. ❜

❛ Wow. You can make anything sound perverted. ❜

❛ I don't have to be on my own. I could be with you. ❜

❛ If you're nice to me, I can be nice to you. ❜

❛ You never know when you wake up in the morning what the day will bring. ❜

❛ Your life is a lie! These are lies! ❜

❛ I know who you really are. You're a killer. Sucking the fucking life out of all of us! ❜

❛ I should have fucking killed you when I had the chance. ❜

❛ There is a great big shit-ugly world out there. The bad stuff doesn't just end at your doorstep. ❜

❛ You can help put an end to all of it. The sins of your father. ❜

❛ You always did have a soft spot for kids.  They remind you of what you lost. Innocence. ❜

❛ I think I'm in trouble. ❜

❛ You put yourself at risk...for me. ❜

❛ I'm not gonna let anything happen to you, I promise you. ❜

❛ Walk away. This doesn't concern you. ❜

❛ I promise you, no one's ever gonna hurt you again. Especially me. ❜

❛ Who are any of us, really? We all have our public life, our private life… ❜

❛ We can play who's a bigger asshole, but I guarantee you, I'll win. ❜

❛ I don't want to talk about your daddy issues, okay? ❜

❛ One day, I grew up, and I realized my father wasn't the end-all, and it didn't matter what he thought of me, because I realized I didn't think that much of him anymore either. ❜

❛ You think just because you shared, I'm gonna open up? You watch too much tv. ❜

❛ What this tells me is you've been lying to me from the very beginning. ❜

❛ I can only marvel at the level of cynicism. ❜

❛ You're putting us both at risk. It isn't safe for us to talk. ❜

❛ I would never do anything to put you in danger. ❜

❛ You did this to yourself. You're on your own. ❜

❛ Could really use some family right about now, and you're it. ❜

❛ I knew finding his killer wouldn't bring him back, but...I thought it would bring something. ❜

❛ I want you to disappear from my life. Like a ghost. A really annoying ghost. ❜

❛ I couldn't care less about your life. Or death. Unless you get in my way. ❜

❛ If I were you, I'd give up vigilante-ism. You're not very good at it. ❜

❛ You do not want to question my loyalty to my family.  ❜

❛ I have to be the one to kill him. I have to know he's gone. ❜

❛ How is it I can kill people and feel no regret...but disappointing [name] makes me feel like the scum of the earth? ❜

❛ Sometimes I'm... just going along, and everything seems okay, and then this...darkness creeps in, and it takes over. ❜

❛ Don't ever question me! I gave you everything you have. I will take it all away! ❜

❛ You have your demons. I accept that. Because I know that you don't have to be a slave to them. ❜

❛ I know you, better than you know yourself. You can conquer whatever darkness there is in you. I know you can. ❜

❛ We create our own destiny every day we live. ❜

❛ If you hadn't been in my life, I wouldn't be who I am. You've given me confidence and support. And you've been the one constantly good thing in my life. ❜

❛ I can't believe there was a time when I actually thought I could learn something from you. ❜

❛ You can't control the demon inside of you any more than I can control mine. ❜

❛ You're like a child. You dream of a heaven you'll never see. ❜

❛ I accept...nothing. Nothing is inevitable. ❜

❛ It's already over. ❜

❛ Life doesn't have to be perfect. It just has to be...lived. ❜

❛ Born in blood. Both of us. ❜

❛ I thought I could change what I am, keep my family safe. But it doesn't matter what I do, what I choose. I'm what's wrong. This is fate. ❜

[maddascanbe-blog]

Miracu-class girls are done! It took less time than I initially anticipated, thank goodness. Let's talk re-write's and re-designs shall we?

Sabrina so freaking cute, give the girl her hat. It was probably a gift from Chloe. For her redesign I thought she would be the kind to dress in cute blouses and flowy skirts. She has tennis skirts in every color for every occasion. As for her re-write- anyone who saw how I changed Chloe probably will guess that their dynamic is drastically changes as well.

Sabrina met Chloe when they were in their tween years, Officer Roger having worked security for the Bourgeois on multiple occasions. One day he had to bring his daughter into work and Chloe found her wandering the halls. When a kidnapper tried to abduct Chloe, Sabrina sprayed him with pepper spray her father gave her and then kicked him in the dick for good measure. Chloe then declared that Sabrina should be her full-time body guard, and she technically is being paid to hang out with Chloe. But Sabrina would have done it with or without the money since Chloe is actually very endearing once you figure out how she works.

Alix is next! Alix's violently pink hair could not be ignored, so I kept it (albeit a little less saturated) Also she is in fact still short. Her outfits are probably all variations of sports gear unless she has an event to attend at the museum. I also tanned her up since I imagine she spends a lot of time outside, girl is sunburnt. She is actually a year ahead in history, having gotten too bored with junior level classes. So she's friends with some of the seniors too. I won't get into Bunnix anytime soon but- let's just say it's a lot more tragic than cannon would ever admit. The rabbit's powers are changing, and Alix still has to live with that.

On a lighter note, Juleka, as stunning as ever. Tall queen. She is a year behind since her lack of participation in classes ultimately tanked her grade in several subjects. Her band director was more then happy for her to stay an extra year though, since she is trained classically as well as electrically on the bass. She may not like talking, but she has little fear of performing when the music can do the talking. Her twin brother actually graduated early, and he's working now to help pay for the band the two want to start. Her design doesn't change much from her cannon one other than the fact I switched her ripped leggings for lace ones. I imagine she actually has many outfits in this color pallet, since Chat Noir quickly becomes her favorite hero.

Mylene, okay the change I made here is pretty obvious. I debated for a long time on whether or not I change her skin tone. And when I did the line art? Wasn't planning too. But changed my mind last second, since I thought it helped the color pallet more. This would imply she is mixed, with her dad looking pretty much the same as cannon. it's hard to tell her unless you look closely but I gave her freckles that just cover every inch of her. She is Sunkissed. He character isn't super different, she is still easily startled, but she knows what she believes and will fight for it no matter what.

And finally, Rose! The lovely Rosey! The flower child! Her nonspecific illness still definitely happened, but I like to think she has actually recovered. I do not know enough about most chronic illnesses to make any sort of specification on what she has so nameless headache disease it is! She struggled a lot as a kid, but now she's planning to start a non-profit to help kids who are going through hard times of their own. She definitely still has her down days, the fact that she nearly died so young is not something she is quick to forget. But she will do whatever she can to give other people hope, sinee she knows all too well what it feels like to be hopeless.

As for her design, she had a bucket of pink upturned on her. She did have to have her hair shaved as an affect of her illness but now it's growing back faster than ever. She gets it cut every time it gets past a certain length to donate it.

Luka is next!

[super-ion]

The Voyages of the Padua

Chapter 4

(1, 2, 3 | next)

The second time in her life that she woke up was significantly gentler than the first.

For one, she was warm. At some point, she had acquired a blanket. It was rough and scratchy where it touched bare skin, but it provided comforting weight on her body.

For another, she seemed to be surrounded by all manner of whispering noises. Clicks and beeps and hisses and a distant bass hum that she could feel more than hear. They were good noises. As long as those noises were going, it meant the ship was alive.

Ship…

Her eyes snapped open and she sat up with a gasp.

She was in what appeared to be a small cramped med bay. Most of the paneling was white with a high contrast red stripe around eye level. Well, white was a bit of a stretch, most of the paint was chipped and worn, with the most egregious damage painted over with what she assumed was available at the time.

Shoved into one nook was a collection of apparatus, all folded up, bearing the label “Auto-doc”. It was the sort of generic medical robot that could be found on most starships too small to have a dedicated medical team. The only difference here was that someone had glued a pair of googly eyes on it.

The mattress underneath her crackled as she shifted her weight around to get a better look of the room. Not very comfortable, likely waterproof.

“Good morning, sleepy head!”

She yelped and toppled out of the bed.

Something tugged painfully - an IV line plugged into the port on her arm. Except hadn't she been forced to bite that one off?

Panic flared. It was attached to her. She needed it out. She needed to…

“Hey! Whoa! If you break that, you gotta pay for it! Also, please don't break yourself!”

The disembodied voice cut through her panic. This wasn't the Eosphorus. She wasn't waking up alone this time.

“You good there?” the voice asked.

She let out a breath and disengaged the port with slightly shaking hands. Unlike before, it slid out easily and she dropped it on the bed.

“Yeah, I think so…” she replied.

She looked up to see someone floating in mid air. No, not floating, it was a projection on a sheet of plex, one of those holographic displays that created the illusion of space. She noted the black strip on top of the plex that probably housed cameras and microphones and whatever else was needed for this interaction.

The person was watching her with an expression of intense, playful curiosity. Wild bushy hair framed a round youthful face and an oversized pink sweater obscured most of her body except where sparkly leggings poked out.

“Um… hello?” the woman said.

“Hi! I'm Ria!” the hologram replied with an impish grin. “I use she/her usually, but anything’s good.”

Ria, or the image of Ria, stood up straight and offered a hand to shake in a show of mock solemnity.

She wasn't sure what she was supposed to do. Obviously she couldn't shake, seeing as Ria was technically a two dimensional projection of a virtual being. She settled for an awkward wave.

“I don't know what my name is,” she admitted.

“Huh… auto-doc did say there were some anomalous readings in that brainpan of yours. I really thought you might be a Cassidy, seeing as your jumpsuit says Cassidy right there on that patch there.”

She glanced down at the patch.

“Oh… this isn't mine. I'm just borrowing it… I'm sorry, what do you mean, anomalous readings?”

“Ooooh… yeeeeaaaah,” Ria let out in a long breath before sucking on her teeth. “I'm not really qualified to discuss medical diagnoses. You're gunna have to take it up with Aela, but she's defragging right now. The drift kinda scrambles her up for a bit, takes her platform a while to recover.”

That answered exactly zero questions and raised so many more… which in all fairness was about on par with her short life so far.

“So, if you're not Cassidy, who are you?” Ria demanded. “I mean, you literally just said you don’t know, but that just means you can be whoever you want. We gotta call you something... I mean, going around referring to you as “mystery woman” or whatever would probably get tiring after a while, you know?”

“Oh… I guess not,” she replied.

Ria was watching her expectantly. Oh, did Ria want an answer right now? She felt a sudden intense pressure to get a good grade in self actualization, something both normal to want and possible to achieve.

The seconds dragged out in awkward silence as her mind raced. She needed to say something, anything.

“Uh… call me... Cass?"

"Cass? As in short for Cassidy?"

"Yes... I mean no... I mean sort of. Maybe," Cass replied.

“Alright, Cass it is!” Ria replied clapping her hands in excitement. “Oh, by the way, all your stuff is over there.”

Ria gestured to a duffle bag in the corner of the room. Cass stared at it for a long moment before finally recognizing it. Somewhere between terrifying creatures and security androids, she had lost track of it. By all accounts, it should still be back on the Eosphorus… unless someone picked it up and carried it here? Who or why she didn't know.

“Tre wanted to ransack it and see if there was anything valuable inside,” Ria explained, “but Mina wouldn't let them. Whatcha got in there? Is it gold?”

Well, that answered a who… maybe. But it didn't exactly provide a why. But then, why had she packed it full of things in the first place?

Cass approached the bag and pulled the zipper open, letting out a tiny relieved sigh at the sight of the teddy bear and everything else.

“Awwwww,” Ria gushed. “That's so cute!”

Cass glanced back at her to see an exact copy of the teddy bear clutched in Ria's arms. How has she…? Oh right, hologram.

“Can I keep this copy?” Ria asked, holding out the holographic version. “I mean, you're allowed to say no. I don't want to make things weird or anything. People sometimes get weird about personal stuff like this.”

“Yeah, sure,” Cass replied tentatively. “Hey… um…”

She wasn't sure how to ask this next question politely.

“Are you… I mean… why are you…?”

Ria let out an affronted gasp.

“Cassidy! You can't just ask someone why they're a hologram!”

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean-”

Ria burst into laughter.

“Your face! Oh my gosh! No, it's cool. I'm the ship AI. Well... sort of. My official primary function is navigation. I'm not technically integrated with the Padua, but I interface with a lot of her lower systems. She's really friendly, like a big fluffy dog.”

Cass looked around the room, trying to imagine the starship as a large friendly dog.

“Hey, so…” Ria said. “Please don't take this the wrong way, but you really look like you could use a shower. Do you want a shower?”

Cass very much did want a shower.

Unfortunately the shower booth that sat across the hall from the med bay was nearly as tight as the cryo tube and the reality of being trapped in a tight wet space somewhat soured the experience.

Aside from that, the water was warm and it was still quite literally the most luxuriant experience of her life.

At least until she discovered the small patch of shaved hair at the base of her neck, and the slightly raised edge of a surgical scar that had been hastily cauterized shut. It was fresh… or had been fresh whenever Cass went into the cryo pod. She still didn't even know how long ago that had been. Days? Years? Longer?

“Anomalous readings,” Ria had said. Someone had clearly been inside her head, relatively recently in terms of biological time.

She didn't even realize she was crying until the water shut off abruptly at the end of her allotment and she found herself leaning her head against the tile, shoulders shaking slightly from the emotion.

She couldn't remember anything. That fact had been more of an abstract academic fact while the wake up drugs swirled around in her bloodstream, when staying alive and reaching safety was the only thing that mattered. Now the reality of her situation hit her full on, bringing a profound sense of loss.

She depressed the dryer mechanism and closed her eyes as assorted vents blasted her with warm air from all directions.

She was alive. She was safe (probably).

As the dry cycle wound to a finish, she opened her eyes and once again, she found herself on a strange ship, staring at a reflection that she didn't recognize. She looked better, slightly less haggard and the self inflicted scratches were healing. The cheeks were still sunken and the eyes still ringed by dark circles.

She needed a meal or three and a proper night's sleep.

And she needed answers... if there ever were any. What if there weren't? Or what if there were and she didn't like them?

The face in the mirror looked even more bewildered and lost than before if that was possible.

Maybe Ria had been right and she really could be anyone she wanted.

“Well,” she told her reflection with a weak smile. “I guess it's time to figure out who Cass is.”

[thehypnone]

when you listen to the rhrn album can you please give your thoughts about like the mixing? Live albums typically don’t always have the greatest mixing but this one like confuses me

alright anon, I'm using your ask to make my official HYP TALKS RHRN SOUNDTRACK post

tag list: @devilsandstarlight @jazz-bazz @skele-bunny @azureseacloud @lilhoechlinsbae @delusionalbitchinthehouse @fallen-iii-ghost

A disclaimer, any negative-leaning take is not hate or "I would've done a better job" (because I would not), it's only my opinion that I was asked for multiple times due to what I do here on tumblr

Okay so I can divide the tracks in two categories when it comes to mixing and all that stuff:

1. Awesome mixing – more depth, better instrumental and vocal balance – Spillways – Cirice – Call Me Little Sunshine – Twenties – Marry On A Cross – Kiss The Go-Goat – Dance Macabre – Square Hammer

2. Less fortunate mixing – some flatness and chunkiness, less balance – Kaisarion – Rats – Faith – Absolution – Watcher In The Sky – Rats – Miasma – Respite On The Spitalfields

I’m not putting If You Have Ghosts into any of these categories because it’s a different world entirely. It’s actually just brilliant, but it’s not as hard to find balance with so few and such instruments as with the other songs on the album. I think Copia is a little too sharp for this vibe and I'm pretty sure they tried to help with reverb. It was a nice touch, but I think it could’ve been more smoothed out. But also I kinda hear Terzo in the second half of it, not Copia, SORRY. The vocal ghoulette could’ve been put either fully on the middle or all stretched all around to surround Copia and the instrumental and fill the space, if that makes sense

In general the mixing is strange in some places, even in the better made songs, it’s just like they lose the plot sometimes. It's possible (and very likely) that it was prepared with vinyls or CDs in mind, not headphones, but that doesn't explain why sometimes it's better and sometimes worse. Some general stuff about mixing I picked out:

1. Dew isn't really on the right, he's more to the middle than Aeon who's totally to the left. Dew could be louder actually in some places, Aeon could be stretched more to the middle 2. Bass has a great definition, we can finally hear how nice some fillers are and how good Rain actually is 3. The girls got some very much deserved highlights, but they did Swiss dirty. I’m outraged for my bbg, but not only because I love him. It would be a genuinely better technical decision if he was louder and/or placed somewhere else. The entire thing is very off balance. It's lead guitar and strong female vocals on the right, and rhythm and basically nothing (Swiss) on the left. It just doesn't make any sense!!!

Now some stuff about specific songs:

1. Rats – So dirty, the mixing failed a little here, the audience just sounds like noise instead of actual good background – DEW DID A PINCH HARMONIC (I manifested it) – Cirrus!!! It’s hard to hear her most of the time and she rocks here – Aeon and Dew had a very good harmony, they work so good together wtf (sorry Aether but they win here)

2. Faith – Aurora and Cumulus completely slay – I adore Dewdrop’s little addition to the 1st solo – But he missed a note in the 2nd solo heh

3. Spillways – FINALLY Swiss in Spillways – It’s the best mixed song in general and I’m not only saying that because of Swiss (who I love), all the instruments and voices are balanced so much better and so much more fluid – There’s less tone definition on bass though

4. Cirice – Dew does some fancy lil harmonic tricks in Cirice, I LIKE – It’s also very well balanced when it comes to instrument, SWISS IS AUDIBLE – Something went WRONG with Cirrus’ synth here, like omfg they did my girl dirty

5. Absolution – I talked about Absolution extensively here

6. Watcher In The Sky – Love the synth on it, why not do that setup for Cirice pls – But also Swiss is always the loudest at the beginning, why not here!? – It’s on the worse list, but it’s not horrible, the backing synths fill it nicely so it’s not as chunky as Rats for example – I think someone forgor Dew is lead, not Aeon, but at least we can appreciate the bug’s skill some more like that – Mounty slamming those bitches at the end, go baby!

7. Twenties – Very glad they highlighted the drums and the bass so much in this one, it’s what Twenties is FOR – Both Dew and Aeon’s palm muting game is so yummy here – Oh, Swiss how I love you – But what are they doing with the solo mixing, why is the bitch moving at the beginning? It’s like someone was late to press some buttons (It might have been on purpose but trying to do some fancy effects doesn’t always work)

8. Miasma – Miasma lands somewhere between the worse and better mixing category but that might be the lack of vocals which takes away some of the needed balance, but it is rather chunky – I don’t like the synths shoved totally into my left ear but that’s just me, not an actual flaw – But then what are they doing at c. 3 minutes??? Again, more fancy doesn’t always mean better and Miasma is fancy and full enough as it is – I think the mixing in Miasma changes from worse to better along the way because the ending is so much better and smoother, around when the sax comes in so they might’ve adjusted some things just to fit it – OMG RAINY GO FANCY AT THE END (the tiniest solo ever <3)

9. Mary On A Cross – Cumulus oh my fuckckk – The vocals before the chorus is such a good touch, nice ascend into the change in melody, love it – Same with Aurora’s solo part the next time, it’s so good that they put her on the middle for that, it’s perfect – The girls do slay the end but Swiss could balance it nicely if only he were just a tiny bit loudeeeeer – And again what are wed doing with these weirdly sustained layered synths??? That’s just slightly unnecessary

10. Respite On The Spitalfields – Swiss should be louder here, too – Respite is in the slightly worse category because this one sounds very flat to me for most part, it’s like only the drums and bass give any depth (or rather force some depth into it) – Once again Aeon’s palm muting is top tier – Girls slaying as usual – I’m not sure why the strings are just forcefully shoved behind Dew but okay… – The mixing here is a crime!!! It’s so flat and this is a song that deserves to be all around and fully immerse you. I’m actually sad about that one – And where are the solo vocal parts???

11. Kiss The Go-Goat – Now why is KTGG deeper and more melodic than Respite??? We’ll never know ig, but yeah, it’s on the better category – Did Nihil fucking mix this album or what??? – Cirrus’ solo in KTGG should be as loud as Dew’s, period

12. Dance Macabre – Dance Macabre is on the better category too, you can even hear Swiss – Glorious bass here

13. Square Hammer – Now Squammer, very good mixing for the finish but I still think that the girls should be more to the middle and wider, especially in backing vocal heavy tracks like this one – YES Dew bestie go ham on it at the end, slay, make your tech angry – OHHHH AEON’S THING UGHGFHNGHGHHG (he was probably wobbling his pickup switch with one of them turned off so it was basically sound on–off–on–off)

Also not really from the technical side but they cut out some strong tracks and it's honestly a big shame :(

Some gear stuff nobody will hear but me (/hj): 1. Rain definitely still has steel strings ‘cause COME ON, the TONE!!! 2. Aeon’s palm muting skills rock 3. The difference between Aeon’s ceramic humbuckers on the Fantomen and Dewdrop’s Hot Rail single coils is on the Strat so prominent AHHH 4. Aeon missed on the CMLS solo a little but Dew covered him up hjfgsdh 5. Slightly funny addition, but I love that Aurora’s voice and Dewdrop’s guitar can be mistaken for one another sometimes because of the tone and pitch lmfao

And that's it heh I'll gladly elaborate on some aspects or answer any questions that might come up so you know, my askbox and dms are open :3

[songoftrillium]

It's midnight, so have a review of RAT TAXI

So, wait, first of all lets talk about the hot new genre you're never heard of: Rat Detective Music. I discovered it this morning when my computer bluescreened. When I reloaded, I came upon the typical logged out boring youtube homepage with the offering of generic videos, and here's where I discovered Rat Detective Music.

I was pulled in by the allured of a rat detective holding a gun. I clicked and was presented with what I could only describe as a futurefunk banger with all its lead instruments done by cheesy sounding instruments. If you don't believe me, do a web search for Rat Detective Music. Its a thing.

I have no idea who Louie Zong is, but he sure read the assignment and expanded the Rat Cinematic Universe into its Own Thing and honestly he's owning it into genre-defining territory that's left me pretty stunned.

This whole jazz/funk fusion is dripping with snarky puppy/herbie hancock influences intermarried extensively with retrofunk in a way that somehow feels a lot more self-aware. I never thought I'd say this but RAT TAXI might unironically be my favorite album of the year.

It opens with Traffic Jam, a heavy wash of cuban bebop rhythms and horn sections being thoroughly drenched in FM synhesizers. This absolute bop really shows the musician, out of the gates, isn't following the typical 4/4 and walks you through a full ensemble performance with different instruments taking their job VERY seriously, regardless of that cheese.

The Second track, Cheezy Street, featuring Dante NK on vocals, caught me off guard in a good way. Opening with an immediate Detroit hip hop beat, it still maintains that constant, leaning into both synth guitar and sax. The song itself takes itself as seriously as the genre, filled with rat and cheese lyrics that are thoroughly charming from cheddar rhymes to sewer weather. For all its cheese, this could be at home on any lo-fi hip hop track in Rat World.

Basement Boogie opens up presenting itself with more traditional walking bassline. This Rat Music song gets its cheese from a bitcrushed beat, and what sounds like an FM ensemble added during the apex of its chorus, keeping you firmly grounded in the gutter. This genre knows exactly what it is.

Rise & Shine is something I can describe as 'sniffy.' Its synth clav and warm rhodes held together with a peppery cocktail drum kit with a jungle beat. Its sinusinoid lead can only be described as 'dimensionally nasally' and uses its cheese to keep you in the rat mentality. Skillfully composed.

Rush Hour is a well-written song that feels like it doesn't fit. The opening, distinctly feline feeling lead, is the better way to describe this. What I DO love however is the unapologetic Yamaha YM2612 bassline that brings me to the Green Hills Zone. Feels like Anime Rock, which isn't an insult!

Home Bass brings us right back into the arms of Snarky Puppy, perhaps feeling even more like a Lingus jam than prior tunes. Technically, this is composed brilliantly. This however does break away pretty hard from the Rat Music quality in that is has no cheese! I could see this stand on its own.

Dumpster Disco dives right back into the realm of Rat though and does a better job of what I think Rush Hour tried to do. It plays with that Anime Rock synth while bringing back all the cheese you'd expect from the rest of this Rat Music album while going firmly "dance" in the chorus.

Recess opens with a dub effects section and a dx7 e-piano carrying through. This song plays with a vibe one would expect to find in a Phoenix Wright remix. It plays like a typical VG tune until right at the end the cheese comes in hard with a somehow sexy guitar lead to see it out.

Park Drive is a beautiful tune, but also feels pretty out of place. If this song were saved for a different themed release, this album itself wouldn't lose anything from it. I didn't hate this tune, but found myself waiting for the next song, and I don't think that does this song any favors. No rat.

Sewer Swing is the final song of the album and it doesn't hold back at all, going for a full-cheese spread of british fun machine synths seeing you out with the cheesiest showtune I've ever heard. I think ending the album with the very thing that defined it was brilliant(ly cheesy).

RAT TAXI is an absolute BOP. Genre-defining even in ways I sincerely hope other musicians follow. The album was fun, entertaining, and from a technical aspect, surprising at times how skilled the musician is. They know what they're doing, and I don't think any of their instrument choices are accidental.

[mytheoristavenue]

Hello, I was just thinking about your alt band au for mha and I wanted to ask, do you headcanon the guys as sounding like any particular artists? I recall one of your posts stating that they each do vocals to some degree, so I was wondering if you had any thoughts about specific singers or songs that you feel would match their voices/vocal styles.

I've been so excited to answer this! I was actually planning to post about this soon anyways!

Fallen Angels!AU Voice Claims HCs

Summary: Musicians that the guys sound like or are inspired by, as well as their tastes in music!

Warnings: Mentions of music about sex/drugs, mentions of late musicians

Fumikage Tokoyami:

🎤 Of the three, Tokoyami has the deepest voice, speaking and singing wise. However, Shoji's voice goes deeper, but he can't hold lower notes as consistantly as Toko can.

🎤 His voice is increadibly clear and smooth. He lacks the same gravel that the tohers have, but their fans adore him for it. He holds long, passionate notes that taste like melted chocolate.

🎤 Toko is a classically trained baritone, and tends to take his biggest vocal inspirations from many who are as well, though it isn't a requirement. These include but are not limited to Claudio Sanchez of Coheed and Cambria, Amy Lee of Evanescence, and David Draiman of Disturbed.

🎤 As for who he actually sounds like, his voice has been compared to that of Adam Gontier of Three Days Grace more than anyone else. He has also been told he sounds like Benjamin Burnley of Breaking Benjamin. On the tracks that Ojiro takes the lead and Tokoyami raps, he takes after Mike Shinoda of Linkin Park and Fort Minor.

🎸 When it comes to guitar, he's increadibly well rounded, being able to play accousitc, electric, and bass with not only ease but extreme skill. He perfers electric most, just because it's what's easiest to sing with and it garners him the most attention.

🎸 Has a massive guitar collection and is VERY particular about his instruments. Nearly everyone he uses on stage after the hit it big is custom made and he chooses a few to take on tour with him so none of them get too used. His favorite two are a red flying V electric that fades to black at the tips, and a black bass with indigo feathers airbrushed up the side.

🎸 When it comes to inspirations, he craves complicated solos, and looks to Claudio Sanchez of Coheed and Cambria and James Hetfield of Metallica. Though Tokoyami isn't as into classic rock as Shoji is, he has taken a liking to the dramatic solos that Metallica is known for, and he's caught himself staying up for days trying to learn riffs like 'Welcome Home', by Coheed and Cambria.

🎧 Out of the three of them, Tokoyami enjoys the heaviest music and the darkest themes. He's a bit of a gatekeeper when it comes to bands he likes, so he'll for sure make sure he knows all their most underground songs. He likes raw, unfiltered anger and emotion in his music. He's not particularly interested in the 'sex, drugs' and rock n' roll' type of lifestyle, so it doesn't interest his taste in music either. He prefers depressing, thought-provoking lyrics, but he can overlook vulgar words if he likes the instrumentals.

🎧 Ranging from heaviest to lightest, his preferences are:

Rammstein

Rob Zombie

Coheed and Cambria

Three Days Grace

Skillet

Breaking Benajim

Flyleaf

Evanessance

Paramore

Mezo Shoji:

🎤 Shoji actually has the highest voice in the group, but Ojiro is a very close second. He also has a surprising range, dipping even lower than Tokoyami's with the same high note limit as Ojiro. His voice has significant gravel, even in his normal speaking voice.

🎤 Because of his quirk, he can duplicate more mouths for a small choir-like effect, which lets them all harmonize beautifully. It also makes their overall sound really unique and recognizable as the band tries to utilize Shoji for reprises, bridges, and choruses as often as possible.

🎤 They also like that they need to use less technical effects to match their studio recorded music while playing live because they don't have to record over their voices to get the effect like most other musicians. Shoji did it himself in the studio, and he loves doing it onstage even more.

🎤 Shoji doesn't tend to put much stock into who he wants to sound like, since he does the least amount of singing of the three. He mostly just repeats what the others say or gives background feedback. However, he is a big fan of classic rock and he really digs vocal twang. One of his biggest vocal inspirations is Dave Mustaine of Megadeth. He likes to practice calls and responses with himself, especially when he drums and Sweating Bullets is one of his favorite songs to do that to. Often times during downtime in rehearsal which Ojiro and Tokoyami are songwriting, Shoji starts in on the drums to the song saying: "Well me, it's nice talkin' to myself," with a big grin while one of his dupli-mouths says: "A credit to dementia."

🎤 As for what Shoji actually sounds like, he is perfect for that gravelly, cocky dad-rock vibe. He's been compared to Matt Walst of My Darkest Days and Three Days Grace, as well as Johnny Vanderhoven of Good with Grenades.

🥁 Just like with his vocals, Shoji takes full advantage of his quirk when it comes to drumming. He has an incredibly complex setup with multiple snares, kick drums, and symbols. He doesn't tend to you more than two pairs of sticks at a time so he can still sing, but for a few songs with especially complicated solos, he's been known to use up to three or even four.

🥁 Almost never uses the same pair of sticks twice. Not only does he lose them, but he snaps them very frequently. He keeps extra pairs near him, stuck in crevices between drums and stuck down the back of his shirt so he can toss the broken ones behind his head and reach back for new ones seamlessly. He also loves tossing them into the audience or giving them to cute groupies after shows.

🥁 He absolutely loves performing and all the attention that being a rockstar gets him. He was at first very reserved, but when he realized how many fans he- not just the band as a whole- had, he was instantly addicted to it. He contanstly shows off to his fans, spending his free time on the bus or backstage teaching himself tricks like twirling his sticks in his fingers.

🥁 Just like with vocals, he doesn't so much take inspiration from other drummers but, by far his favorite is Josh Eppard of Coheed and Cambria. He admires his skill and outlook on the rockstar life, and has spent weeks trying to learn certain parts in his songs.

🎧 Shoji really likes anything fun. He's not as stuck up about lyrics as Tokoyami and Ojiro are. He likes music about sex and drugs, even though he's not acutally that experienced in the former and would never be tempted with the latter. His playlist matches that of a divorced dad.

🎧 Ranging for heaviest to lightest, this is what he likes:

Rob Zombie

Megadeth

Metallica

Coheed and Cambria

Three Days Grace

Van Halen

K.I.S.S.

ACDC

My Darkest Days

Nickleback

Mashirao Ojrio:

🎤 Ojrio has the second highest voice in the group, after Shoji but he can hold high notes a lot longer than he can. He also has a really nice screaming voice that has a lot of passion behind it, and a significant gavel that gets raspier the louder he gets. When he's just casually singing or singing something other than rock, he has a really pretty, soothing voice.

🎤 Ojrio didn't sing at all at first seeing as Tokoyami was already the lead singer of the band, and Shoji can do backups with his quirk. But, when it was discovered how naturally talented he was, the others insisted he sing at least occasionally. Now, him and Tokoyami write at least two songs on every album where he takes the spotlight.

🎤 Despite being the lead singer on a few tracks, he still perfers to do duets with Tokoyami, because the thought of all the attention being on him scares him to bits. Though he'd never admit it, he does slowly begin to fall in love with the publicity off it all over time. He loves screaming a chorus and having the crowd echo it with just as much enthusiasm. And from the frint of the stage, he can see the audience better, its such a good time. He can't handle it all the time though, so he's content with his few minutes of fame before going back to the side lines.

🎤 His biggest inspirations, by far are Chester Bennington of Linkin Park and Marcus Mumford of Mumford and Sons. Luckily for him, these are also the voices he's compared to most often. Ojrio has the skill of matching his voice extremely well to others', so with practice, he was able to make his voice similar to his inspirations.

🎸 Ojiro doesn't really take as much of an interest in inspiration when it comes to the instruments he plays, but as for bass, Tokoyami got him into the lighter side of Coheed and Cambria's music and he fell in love with Zach Zooper's style of playing immediately. He listened to 'Number City' relentlessly for days on repeat, obsessed with the basslines and trying to recreat them.

🎸 Though he doesn't use the skills much in the band, Ojiro can actually play quite a few string instruments including bass, acoustic, and electric guitar (though not as well as Tokoyami can), cello, violin, and banjo. He learned classical strings in elementary school where he was placed in an orchestra class. His mother wanted him to learn violin, but he always performed the cello, he was very talented with each, though. In middle school, he had a folk-rock phase where he became obsessed with Mumford and Sons. That led him to learning the banjo, which is his favorite instrument by far.

🎧 Ojrio has by far the lightest taste in music of the three, perferring softer, catchier tunes with deeper meanings behind the lyrics. He likes songs that make him think about real world problems and make him feel empowered to face them at the same time.

🎧 From heaviest to lightest, his favorite bands are:

Coheed and Cambria

Three Days Grace

Breaking Benjamin

Poor Man's Poison

Linkin Park

Of Monsters and Men

Mumford and Sons

Fish in a Birdcage

Hozier

So sorry this took so long to finish! I wanted to think each one of them out heavily since this is one of the first big things I've posted for the AU! I'm always excited to talk about this AU so if anyone has any questions please drop them in my inbox!