#jamming to it on my way to work also my senior quote was one of their lyrics

[feralnumberfive]

There's no bands from the Midwest? Ummm don't erase Big Time Rush like that 🙄

[iampikachuhearmeroar]

okay so. last night i scrolled past some random podcast video ad on my fb feed, where two women were talking about “i want to teach my kids to have a healthy relationship with money”; which of course is a great thing. but then one of them went on with the classic, tired tangent you see online about “oh so we learnt pythagoras’s theorem, but NOTHING about high interest bearing accounts and home loans etc at ALL in school!!! how dare they teach us about Pythagoras but absolutely NOTHING about life skills like saving for a home!!!???”

like effie or whatever your name is. we did learn about basic interest in school, specifically in year 9 & 10 maths and probs in senior general maths too- even though i dropped maths for years 11 & 12. we did learn about how to calculate double time & half pay in maths. we did learn about saving money and budgeting in maths. but lo and behold, you were 15. and so, like many 15 year olds (very esp myself back in 2010 for example) you ignored this stuff and didnt think that it was important. like what teenager goes to apply for a car loan with a low interest variable rate of 7.5%??? not one. what 15yo actually cares about interest and how to calculate it???? not many. but maths teachers, to the best of their ability, do try to teach these things to the stubborn kids who don’t want to listen or even do the work. but it’s because they’re abstract concepts, in many ways, to kids. they defs were to me. i didn’t want to know anything about them (or mind you i didn’t want to know anything maths based bc to quote 15yo me i “loathe, despise and detest maths. so therefore i don’t have to try at it!”). and i think many teenagers who struggle with maths think like that.

but then we latch onto the obvs memorable names like pythagoras or fibonacci or just the all-encompassing term of algebra, and totally dismiss it, when we’re older, as pointless. like yes. don’t get me wrong. algebra, even without my distinct lack of trying at it, did send me into deep confusion and to *sleep acting* sleep. but for fucks sake, you can’t expect teachers and the school curriculum to cram EVERYTHING into a school day like life management skills.

i think this is one reason why teachers are so burnt out. because people like this (and generally the internet at large now) keep spitting out these stupid as fuck lines about “WE DONT NEED ALGEBRA AND PYTHAGORAS!! we need life skills classes!!! why don’t schools and teachers totally disrupt core maths skills learning and teach life skills like how high interest accounts work?!” like no. that’s a parent’s job. or even an extension project for more engaged kids thing. or even, if a kid is interested in this stuff, they’ll research it themselves. high schools don’t need to jam “life skills” into their curriculum. especially when globally, it seems, teachers are burnt the fuck out bc of low pay, bad behaviour from both kids & parents and already overloaded class planning and admin etc etc etc that goes with being a teacher.

because although i still see maths as a complete mystery tbh, i can now appreciate that it’s there in school curriculums to try to teach logic and order and systems… in a way much different to english and other artsy subjects like drama and history, that i was good at, do. but this is always ignored, bc the underlying logic of maths is also devalued as being “unnecessary and impractical” all bc no one particularly enjoys or likes algebra…. and just also conveniently forgets that you are taught money skills in maths; albeit if it is annoying…. because why the hell would you buy 70 pineapples and then split the dividends of selling those 70 pineapples amongst you and 3 of your friends??? did you buy them with a 10% discount??? what is the profit and loss of those 70 pineapples??? how do you budget and save up to buy 70 pineapples???? who knows. no one knows. except if you show your working and reasoning- which no one (and not definitely not me both now at 27 and back then) wants to do at 15 years old- let alone at 30 or 40 or whatever other age.

just yeah. i am so sick and tired of people whinging and bitching about the “we should replace pythagoras with life skills in maths!! teach me about high interest bearing accounts and how to apply for a home loan when im 15!!” when teachers are already over-burdened enough already… and if you’d just bother to find your old year 9 maths textbook from whatever year, you’d find that you did learn basic money management skills, then and there. but it went over your head, like it should have when you were 15. and like. applying for a home loan is almost null and void at this point, with how real estate and interest rates are globally (or domestically here in aus) rn. shut the fuck up and let kids be kids, vicki. and let teachers be teachers, when they’ve already got enough on their plates as is, vicki.

and also. the above doesn’t really factor in how kids would feel about so-called “life skills” classes being forced into their already jam-packed class schedules. maybe some kids would thrive in a class that gives them assessments on how to set up a bank loan for anything- a house, a car, a boat idek. or do a report how insurance premiums are set up. or what the process is for working out your superannuation (here in australia) accounts and paying your taxes.

but on the other hand, i think many kids (like 15yo me for example) would resent and hate to have another class that’s scheduled between maths and geography- or maybe gives them an extra period at school some days (eg like the catholic school i was at from years 7 to 10 did on fridays until i was halfway through year 7, i think, in 2008). no kid wants a 7 period friday. no kid wants to have a mandatory life skills class on a friday afternoon about how to file taxes and how to apply for a bank loan. when they’re already up to their eyeballs in english, history, geography, PE, religion (since i was at a religious school) and whatever other subjects they’ve got in junior years assessments and/or exams. 

and if it’s in senior years: how would it be assessed??? would they try to stuff it into a year 12 end of year exam and cause kids to have mental breakdowns all because they can’t remember the difference between CTP car insurance and regular car insurance in a HSC exam in new south wales?? or remember the correct definition of variable rate home loan??? like if i had to sit through that as a COMPULSORY exam at the end of year 12 back in 2013 i would’ve had even more of a mental breakdown than i already had back then. and it would’ve sent me into a further panic attack mode around my ATAR (uni entrance mark).

just. i think all these comments people always throw around about “they need life skills classes in schools so you learn about home loans and taxes and wages and everything Adulting™️ at school… which is FAR MORE important than pythagoras in maths or shakespeare in english and/or drama class” is really not factoring in both the capacity of teacher workloads and also kids workloads at school when EVERYTHING has to be assessed, examined AND reported on these days. it would be a nightmare.

[kaymcgivemeacall]

Details: Mike Hanlon

These are a bunch of facts about Mike that I’ve gathered from the book with quotes to support them! (Sorry, no page number citations, I like keeping some sanity.)

- he loves spring, and he heavily associates it with spending time with his dad.

[”Spring’s here again. We’re all waking up. And in his soul he would raise a silent cheer that shook the walls of that mostly cheerful room. He felt love for everything around him, and most of all for his dad...”]

[”Spring’s here again, thank You God, thank You very much.”]

[”Spring was a busy time, but it was a good time.”]

- he’s left handed!

[”Mike Hanlon’s writing was large and awkward because he was lefthanded and the angle was bad for him.”]

- he loved peanut butter and onion sandwiches, much to the chagrin of his mother.

[”...he was particularly partial to peanut-butter-and-onion sandwiches, a taste that made his mother raise her hands in helpless horror...”]

- he never quite finishes grieving over his father’s death-- or the way that he went.

[”I got reading... and surprised myself by bursting into tears over my father, who has now been dead for twenty-three years.”]

[”But I was most afraid that no matter what shape It took, It would have my father’s cancer-raddled face.”]

[”...it seemed to me then and it seems to be now that when a man or woman goes it should be a quick thing. The cancer was doing more than killing him. It was degrading him, demeaning him.”]

- he played football in high school.

[”Mike Hanlon wove his way through them as he would later weave his way through the opposing lines of nearly a dozen high school football teams...”]

[”in high school he would make the varsity football team as a tailback his sophomore year, and was only kept from breaking the school’s all-time scoring record by a broken leg halfway through his senior season.”]

- and played the trombone in his church school’s band.

[”The Church School had a band in which Mike played the trombone.”]

[”Although his trombone playing was not much better than Richie’s Voices, he was fond of the instrument, and whenever he felt blue a half hour of foghorning Sousa marches, hymns, or patriotic airs cheered him right up again.”]

- Mike considered publishing his historical findings on Derry, Pennywise, and the story of the Losers.

[”The segment below and all other Interlude segments are drawn from ‘Derry: An Unauthorized Town History,’ by Michael Hanlon. This is an unpublished set of notes and accompanying fragments of manuscript... found in the Derry Public Library Vault. The title given is the one written on the cover of the looseleaf binder in which these notes were kept prior to their appearance here. The author, however, refers to the work several times as ‘Derry: A Look Through Hell’s Back Door.’ One supposes the thought of popular publication had done more than cross Mr. Hanlon’s mind.”]

- as an adult, he’s interested in one of his co-workers.

[”I joke with Carole Danner about how much I would like to go to bed with her, and she jokes back about how much she’d like to go to bed with me, and both of us know that she’s really joking and I’m really not...”]

- he wears glasses as an adult.

[”I lie there in bed wearing my conservative blue pajamas, my spectacles neatly folded up and lying on the nighttable next to the glass of water I always put there...”]

- he tends to get stuck on things when fixated on them.

[”But I’m doing my own Bill Denbrough here, stuttering over the same ground again and again, reciting a few facts and a lot of unpleasant... suppositions, growing more and more obsessive with every paragraph.”]

[”I’m doing it again. Going over and over the same ground, doing nothing constructive, only cranking myself up to the screaming point.”]

- he attended the University of Maine, but otherwise never really spent any time outside of Derry.

[”I was born here, in Derry Home Hospital; attended Derry Elementary School; went to junior high at Ninth Street Middle School; to high school at Derry High. I went to the University of Maine--‘ain’t in Derry, but it’s just down the rud,’ the old timers say--and then I came right back here. To the Derry Public Library.”]

- Henry Bowers hates him the most out of all the losers, because of his race and also because of their familes’ history of conflict (that stems from racism). (Basically, racism^2.)

[”One day when we got up, there was a swastika painted on the side of the chickenhouse and all the chickens were dead. Someone had poisoned their feed. ...And who do you think it was? ...Why it was Butch Bowers, that’s who!]

[”So I got my two hundred dollars and Butch swore he was going to burn me out. ...So I caught up with him one afternoon. ...I cut him off on Witcham Street... and got out with my Winchester rifle.”]

[”Well, I’d had enough of the whole thing, Mikey. And I knew if I didn’t scare him off for good right then I’d never be shed of him.”]

[”[Will] had once taken Butch Bowers by the hair and jammed his rifle into the shelf of his chin and demanded of Butch to be left alone.”]

[”Butch Bowers associated his financial, physical, and mental decline with the Hanlon family in general...”]

[I’m not going to put the direct quote for this because it contains about 7 repetitions of the n-word but basically Butch constantly insists to Henry that any inconvenience they experience is Will Hanlon’s fault.]

- Mike does the exhibits for the Canal Days Museum.

[“A Canal Days Museum was installed in three empty storefronts downtown, and filled with exhibits by Michael Hanlon...”]

- He was/presumably is Baptist

[”His mother was a devout Baptist and Mike was therefore sent to the Neibolt Street Church School.”]

- As a kid, he’s physically described as follows

[”In 1958 Mike was slim and well built, taller than Stan Uris but not quite as tall as Bill Denbrough. He was fast and agile...”]

- As an adult, he's 5' 7"

[I literally can't find the quote for this y'all just gonna have to trust me. Cyan not sus just go with it. If I find it I'll come back with an edit.]

[crispyjenkins]

I LOVED the dooku prompt fill! Soft grandpa dooku and smol obi wan is amazing! Not the original prompter, but I'd love a continuation with Jango involved :)

(lmao it took me like thirty minutes to find both the anon prompt and your new user @0ptim0u5e and was worried i’d have to go into this blind without anyone to tag T*T but we here, and bby Obi is as soft and flirty as ever (part one here)

senior padawan obi definitely looks like this, without the scar, of course. imagine releasing that on phantom menace smh. oh also he uses two ‘sabers just to piss dooku off, based off Dooku’s quote:

"What was to become of elegance and gallantry if a duelist couldn't make do with one blade?" from the jar’kai wookieepedia page)

 Despite his best intentions, Yan has raised a flirt.

  Despite distilling decorum and civility and restraint into the boy’s very bones, when Obi-Wan grows up confident and self-assured, he grows up with a silver tongue and the follow-through to make it dangerous. 

  “Your hair is longer than I imagined,” he greets the new Mand’alor, charming smile turned up to ten, and Yan wonders if he even knows he’s doing it.

  Fett raises a brow, clearly unimpressed, but luckily not so upset that Yan will have to steer his padawan away from another interplanetary incident. “Imagined me often, have you?”

  Feeling far older than his seventy-one years, Yan sighs and sends his ire across the rubble to where Yoda is directing a few padawans in their cleanup efforts, because it is the old troll’s fault that he and Obi-Wan are even on Concord Dawn when they should be at the Temple preparing for Obi-Wan’s trials. But, of course, Master Yoda had requested every available hand to aid the Mandalorians following a terrorist attack on a refugee colony, and even his lineage can’t weasel their way out of it.

  Yan watches Obi-Wan’s smile slide into a smirk, and bemoans the few quiet years they’d had together before Obi-Wan realised he could wrap anyone around his little finger if he tilted his head just right. 

  “Well, it was certainly shorter when I’d seen in it last,” Obi-Wan says easily, arms tucked behind his back in a deception of propriety.

  “Padawan,” Yan warns softly to deaf ears.

  Fett gives them both a little smile of disbelief, snorting as he moves his helmet to his other hip. “And I never forget a face, kih’jetii, and yours is not one I’ve seen before.”

  “No, we’ve not had the pleasure to meet before now,” he laughs and dips into a short bow, “but I’d know your beskar’gam anywhere, Mand’alor.”

  “Ah, so the cryptic bantha shit starts young.”

  “Please forgive my apprentice,” Yan cuts in with another sigh, not at all appreciating the lack of remorse from Obi-Wan’s side of their bond. “He forgets his place.”

  “I have forgotten nothing, master.” Obi-Wan smiles up at him, rocking back on his heels before turning back to Fett. “I only doubted that your honour would believe in Jedi ‘bantha shit’, and refrained from opening the conversation with ‘I’ve had precognitive dreams about the length of your hair, Mand’alor.’”

  Maker protect him from the idiocy of youth.

  “Thank you for your time, Mand’alor Fett,” Yan says, grabbing Obi-Wan by the back of his robes. “I hope our work together will be as smooth as it has been in the past.”

  “Of course, Master Dooku,” Fett says, mouth twisted in an attempt to keep from laughing, which only encourages the smug mirth in Obi-Wan’s mind. “Though I imagine you’ll have your hands full with this one.”

  “Most do,” Obi-Wan manages before Yan can drag him away.

-

  “I don’t need protection!”

  The baby Jedi blinks at him with a polite smile, so perhaps he really has dealt with worse than an inconvenienced Mandalorian, but Jango also refuses to be coddled by magical space wizards on his home planet. Even if they are currently blockaded in the room that had become his office during the relief effort because Death Watch had heard about all the Jedi foundlings running around the remains of Foxsoll and made a play for a redux of Galidraan.

  “Consider it assistance, then,” the baby Jedi —Obi-Wan— says, gently pushing Jango around the nearest corner with a hand on his chest, just as the heavy wooden door explodes into splinters. “I’m afraid my master would be very disappointed in me if I disobeyed his orders to stay at your side.”

  Jango growls, but jams his helmet on and tugs Obi-Wan further behind the wall. “And I imagine you always follow your ‘master’s orders’.”

  The boy’s smile turns sunny as he slips out of his outer robe and pulls two jetii’kade from his belt. “Imagined me often, then?” he returns cheekily, leant far too close against the background noise of three Death Watch commandos smashing into the room, and Jango catches his eyes flicking down to where his lips would be. Kriff, thank the Maker for his helmet.

  “Is now really the time?” A little desperate, Jango grabs him by the shoulder and switches places with him so he can lean around the wall and fire his westar at the closest commando, hitting them right between their chestplate and pauldron. 

  Obi-Wan hmms, letting himself be handled but twisting the hilts in his hands with practiced ease, something comfortable and dangerous in the action. “I suppose not,” he agrees softly, letting Jango take out one of the commando’s legs before leaping out from behind the wall and  igniting both his ‘kad like a kriffing lunatic.

 Dooku is going to have his balls on a platter if he lets his padawan get himself killed, so Jango has no choice but to follow.

-

  “You age me more than Qui-Gon ever did,” Master Yan sighs, as Obi-Wan smiles unrepentantly up at him and Jango shoves his helmet back on to hide how dark his cheeks have turned.

  Perhaps he should feel bad, that his master had searched him out after the battle only to find him snogging another planetary leader against a wall (which, despite Temple rumour, had only happened once before, and it hadn’t even been a good snog, so did it really count?), but despite this being perhaps the most compromising position Yan has found him in, Obi-Wan finds he couldn’t give a flying kriff. 

  All those holodramas were right, having a grumpy Mandalorian knock you to the ground to shield you from a grenade is absolutely wizard.

  “I don’t think that’s quite fair, master,” Obi-Wan says easily, stepping back so he isn’t crowding Jango against the remains of his office wall. “Surely this isn’t as bad as Qui-Gon trying to sneak Flesh-Eating Scorpion Vines into the Temple.

  “No, but perhaps it is as bad as Melida/Daan.” With another sigh, Yan hands him the robe he had abandoned in the other room, and tsks as he takes in the minor shrapnel cuts on Obi-Wan’s cheeks, the way the blood is smeared from eager fingers. “I respectfully ask you don’t involve yourself in another system-wide uprising.”

  Obi-Wan feels Jango’s bemused surprise through the Force, and coughs in embarrassment. “Master, that’s hardly... I didn’t start the uprising of the Young.”

  “Hm,” Yan raises a brow, completely ignoring the Mand’alor to turn Obi-Wan’s hood right-side out. “I’ll attempt to remember that the next time I must rescue you from the Daan’s latest kidnapping attempt.”

  And despite Temple rumour, that had only happened thrice, but one more time and Nield is offering him a punch card. 

Mando’a: mand’alor — “Sole ruler”, contended ruler of Mandalore. kih’jetii — “Little Jedi”, usually offensive but the relationship between Mandalorians and Jedi are better in this ‘verse so beskar’gam — Armour made of beskar, “Mandalorian Iron” that was actually probably a steel alloy jetii’kad/e — lightsaber/s, lit. “jedi saber/s”

[sandu-zidian]

Blabbing about this Musician!au I started last summer that has now also turned into a marching band!au because I got sad and nostalgic because despite how shitty it could be, marching band defined my high school life and social life and I couldn’t had asked for anything else.

I also don’t have every single prequel character (because this au is surrounding the prequel characters) in Star Wars smacked into here, and I gave up halfway through a couple of months ago in terms of brainstorming. Anyways, this is hella long so check everything out under the line if you’d like! don’t want to spam everyone with something that’s like, 4 pages long

Now, you might be asking. What instruments are these characters playing, or what are they doing in marching band? well, boy oh boy do I have some lore for you.

Anakin Skywalker: alright lets start of with the “Chosen One”. Now, I gotta say. He’s got some intense brass vibes, specifically high brass. But I don’t know. He didn’t really mesh well. And given his natural talent with the Force in canon, I thought that Anakin would be a sort of prodigy. And we all know the two instruments associated with that: the piano and violin. He’s more of a piano dude, so here we go! piano prodigy Anakin Skywalker. He also gives mad drumline vibes, and I can see him as either the lead snare, setting the tempo, or the main quad player. He’s brash, slightly obnoxious, but damn is he fucking good at what he does.

Obi-Wan Kenobi: I literally started this AU on the idea that Obi-Wan would play the cello. One of the defining quotes for him is that fucking “infinite sadness” quote. And we all know that cellos play some of the saddest pieces out there. (see: Elgar cello concerto) However, I can’t see him as a marching band dude. He doesn’t really give off color guard vibes (since that’s where most non-band people go to) so I have him as the resident student helper who everyone tolerates because he brings ice cream after band camp.

Ahsoka Tano: Ahsoka is a flute player. As a flute player, I have intimate knowledge on this. She’s like the chill flute player who’s competitive enough to keep her position as principal, but is also chill enough to not have a big ego that butts heads with everyone. She also gives mad color guard vibes. Also speaking about that from personal experience (am I lowkey projecting my own experiences on her? you didn’t hear that from me). She seems like the type to love swing flags and sabre, and is 100% captain by senior year.

I have Anakin, Obi-Wan, and Ahsoka as siblings in this AU because I say so. Qui-Gon is around here somewhere as the resident hippie dad who lowkey smokes pot and will support his children while giving a big ‘fuck you’ to Dooku. 

Yoda’s also in here somewhere, and I love the idea that he’s an old Chinese/Asian man who refuses to speak english and will only do so with the most backwards grammar so his grandchild (Qui-Gon) and great-grandchildren (the trio) are forced to speak Mandarin/Cantonese to him (pick your poison). He just spends his days cutting up fruit and also might pull out his erhu if everyone asks nice enough. (I want to say he was a Peking Opera musician, but immigrated during Mao’s reign after he lost opportunities during the cultural revolution)

So, I know that it doesn’t make sense for a family to have 3 sets of twins and one triplet set, but fuck that I do what I want.

Cody Fett: okay so, Cody 100% plays the french horn. I don’t know, he just, he does. He’s got that air of sophistication because he can play the hardest brass instrument, but at the same time, he’s incredibly good at it and is matter-of-fact about it. He also would be the mello section leader (I was playing with the idea of drum major, but for now, leaving him as a section leader for now). He’s a bit uptight to be a low brass player, but cool enough to still be associated with the general brass group.

Rex Fett: I got Rex and Cody as the eldest Fett twins. Rex feels like a string player, so I have him on violin. I can see him be very hardworking and practicing diligently to the point where he easily sweeps through to concertmaster in high school and the local youth orchestra. He also gives of mad drum major vibes. I can see him copying music, handing out drill charts, and hauling the met around. Also, just think about Rex doing a fancy ass salute at competitions. Yes.

Next round of twins lets gooo

Jesse Fett: You could say Jesse has brass vibes. I see him as a reed person though. In concert band, he’s on clarinet. I used to think clarinets were as stuck up as us flutes but no they’re literally balls of chaotic energy ready to be unleashed. Just imagine Jesse blaming everything on his reed. I see him as the guy who switches to saxophone for marching band, though. He’s got the energy of the clarinet and the saxophone harnessed. Also, wouldn’t be surprised if he knows how to play the sousa.

Kix Fett: Y’know, when I originally made this AU, I had Kix as a musician as well. I’m gonna scratch that. He’s going to medical school, or at least, he’s planning to. He’s on the pre-med track and is dying in organic chemistry and wishes there weren’t so many pre-requisites. However, in high school, he definitely played the oboe. Of course Kix chose one of the hardest instruments to play. Also, just imagine him trying to make his own reeds. I don’t see him as a guy who’s in marching band. He’ll come to competitions and maybe football games if he’s bullied into it. Kix is the guy who’s classes are all AP and he’s dying inside.

Next round of twins yeet:

Fives Fett: shit, I forgot I gave them all real names. If I remember correctly, Fives is Frank. Anyways, trumpet vibes. Need I say more? He’s on the trumpet in marching band as well and he’s the dude who’s obsessed with DCI and always tries to play as high as he possibly can and absolutely demolishes his chops. I would say he’s section leader as well. He also hangs with the drumline at the back of the bus and always plays meme songs on blast and sends weird pictures to people’s phone via open airdrop.

Echo Fett: I think his birth name is Ethan??? I’m spitting thoughts not checking my old documents. Anyways. Echo feels like a string person. Specifically, low strings. So, he plays the bass. Upright bass. Whatever. You get what I mean. He sleeps in the case after school and hates hauling it everywhere. He was in marching band as a mello player (the easiest brass instrument to pick up for the activity so) but he was in a car crash that left him paralyzed from the hip down, and had to quit to recover. He never stopped playing, and found ways to adjust. (I do not know how exactly this would work, since I’m able bodied and also don’t play the bass, but I know he’d at least have a stool to sit on in order to lean his body on. let me know if you have other ideas i’d love to hear them!)

Finally, we got the triplets:

Dogma Fett: Dogma plays the bassoon. He’s a low reed kinda guy and between the bari sax, bass clarinet, and bassoon, he fits the last one the best. He and Kix moan over making reeds and he’s on the quieter side. He just vibes and plays all the low notes and has fun whenever he’s got some moving part. I see Dogma as someone who is only casually into marching band. He uses Jesse’s old student clarinet as his instrument and he’s always on time, knows his sets, and his technique is on point. He always finds himself roped into his brothers’ shenanigans though.

Tup Fett: Tup plays the harp. I like to think he met Shaak Ti (we’ll get to her in a bit) when he was young, and she was playing with an orchestra. He met her backstage and she offered to give him lessons. Tup’s not really a part of high school orchestra but sometimes he’ll be brought in. He’s more involved with solo work and the youth orchestra more than anything. Tup’s another on where I don’t think he’d be into marching band. Though I can see him being in winter guard as the dude who just shows up and is lowkey rip and therefore is a hunk on the rifle. His technique’s good but they’ve never been able to saddle him into fall guard.

Hardcase Fett: (i’ve given up on remembering the birth names so i’m just gonna not) Hardcase is 100% low brass vibes. He can’t be anything but a low brass. I see him as a tuba player. He’s chill, laid back, but also reliable for being the foundation of the band sound. He plays the sousaphone in marching band and always blasts either Seven Nation Army or some other popular show tune right after rehearsals. Hardcase also can play the bari sax and no one knows when he learned how to. 

OKAY we’re done with the Fett’s! Jango and Boba are in here somewhere but honestly I don’t have enough brainpower to come up with what their roles are. Jango’s gonna be a good dad though. Maybe he was a musician and that’s why most of his kids are going into music. Or maybe he’s just a supportive father. Boba’s the youngest though, that’s for sure. And he’s a little shit. Don’t know if he plays an instrument (probably) or what it might be.

Now lets get into some other characters! There’s a lot. And I wasn’t even halfway done with the characters I wanted to include. What the hell was I on last summer?

Padmé Amidala: Padmé is a flute player who quit after freshman year of high school and started taking music production and music theory classes. She loved it so much that she decided that composing was her jam. Now, she’s highly successful and often works with well known pianist, Anakin Skywalker, on piano concertos. Also, she may or may not be dating said pianists but you didn’t hear that from me.

Satine Kryze: twosetters don’t shit on me but Satine feels like she’d play the viola. She and Obi-Obi-Wan definitely dated in high school but after a year broke up on mutual terms and are just good friends now. A lot of people feel like she’d have been a better political science/international studies major than a music major but she’s good so no one complains (until she gets into a fighting match with someone and wins smugly)

Bo-Katan Kryze: shes Satine’s younger sister and is a mad athlete. She doesn’t play any instruments but she’s deeply active and is on scholarship for college, on the pre-med track with Kix. She’s very scary and most people are too intimidated by her to approach.

Plo Koon: I originally had him as an asian man, but I can see Native American as well. He plays the euphonium and he’s just a sweet man. He helps out a lot with private lessons at local high schools and is often brought in to help with low brass during marching band.

Wolffe Koon: Wolffe and Gregor (get to him in a bit) were both adopted by Plo when their parents died when they were very young. Plo was their godfather and he took them in like they were his own. They’re cousins to the Fett brothers (though don’t ask me how I have no idea). Wolffe is an engineer and works close to home.

Gregor Koon: Gregor is Wolffe’s younger brother and had a short stint of musical interest in middle school but quit after he entered high school. Gregor was in a serious car crash during college that left him amnesiac for a year before some of his memories returned. He now owns a restaurant and sticks close to home. Wolffe often comes around to check up on him because his brain injury still impacts his current life in small physical and emotional dips

Kit Fisto: Kit gives off mad trombone vibes and it’s mostly because he seems incredibly laid back. He’s one of those brass players who’s just a nice guy and while jokes around, never got pulled into jokes as a student.

Shaak Ti: like I said above, Shaak Ti is most definitely a harpist. She has that ethereal quality I think is common in harpists. She’s a tall Indian woman and she loves her job! She’s a private lesson teacher and instructor at the conservatory on top of her job in the orchestra since she’s not called in often to play. She loves all her students and gives good hugs.

Mace Windu: Mace is the director of the Jedi Symphony, the orchestra which almost everyone is involved with. He is a bass player and he likes his more classical pieces over contemporary music. He’s good friends with Yoda and sometimes the old troll has to wack some sense into Windu and have him take on newer pieces. Windu 100% gives off unhinged director vibes because mistakes and lazy musicians definitely don’t end after high school/college is over.

Quinlan Vos: this lil shithead definitely is the obnoxious, slightly arrogant, but kind of deserving of that, percussionist. He loves his snare drum and is also in the drumline. He’s the same age as Obi-Wan and the two are close friends. Quinlan is definitely slightly unhinged and is always at the back of the bus causing havoc after competitions. He’s the guy that I (OP) hate but also can’t help but respect cuz yeah he’s annoying but at least he’s good.

Aayla Secura: Aayla is Quinn’s half-sister, and plays the French horn. Again, like Cody, she’s got this air of professionalism that I associate with French horn players and like, we gotta represent the girls in brass somehow. She just fits it really nicely.

I feel like now is the time to list who’s still in conservatory and who isn’t: Obi-Wan, Anakin, Rex, Cody, Jesse, Quinlan, Padmé, and Satine are all recent graduates. Ahsoka, Aayla, Fives, Echo, Tup, Dogma, and Hardcase are still in conservatory (at varying years of course). Kix and Bo are entering med school/frantically applying and banging their heads cuz MCATs. Wolffe and Gregor are older and have been in the field for quite some time now. Plo, Kit, Shaak, and Mace are all faculty/seasoned professionals.

Somehow, I was gonna bring in The Skiratas (with proper research cuz I know very little about them), Dooku, Ventress, the Oppress siblings, rest of Domino Squad, Cut Lawquene, the other CCs, and more. I designated a page out of my sketchbook for this and my oh my the flow chart was hella confusing. How I thought I was gonna handle that in the summer before my first year of college, I have no idea. Maybe I’ll brainstorm more in the future but for now, this is all I have :]]]

Also excuse some of my slightly unhinged language I started writing this a few days ago while slightly unfocused and tired and stressed so my language is a product of that

[drivingsideways]

Tell me the Truth About Love ‘verse headcanons, 10 years later, for @rain-hat

because she asked:

S - Show us an example of your personal headcanon (prompts optional but encouraged)

- Koo Seo Ryeong is now into her second term as PM. She’s also (re)married Yoon Hee Jae, and this time they’re making it work, because they are both CROCODILES WHO LIKE SWALLOWING THEIR ENEMIES WHOLE and also MAD FOR EACH OTHER. The latter is hard to tell because Yoon Hee-Jae regularly, regularly, writes op-eds in that jumped up conservative rag The Corean Herald dissing his wife’s govt and giving them grief about everything from the traffic jam at 7pm in downtown Seoul to Corea’s increasingly stringent environment protection standards that are killing the north, or are the only real citizens of the country the bleeding heart communists who’re tweeting for the revolution while wrapped in Hermes scarves, Madam Prime Minister?

- Hyeon-min and Jo Yeong have acquired (in this order):

(1) Cat, ginger and Very Tetchy who leaves dead rats exclusively on Yeong’s side of the bed.

(2) Dog, a golden eyed husky who went from growling at Koo Seo Ryeong (what a good boy) to gambolling at her feet in fifteen minutes  (former good boy) while Yeong was in the kitchen (silently) fretting about whether hyung’s birthday cake  was going to collapse and thereby hand Ms.Koo a victory that he might never be able to recover from.

(3) Another Cat, jet black and green eyed who only likes, in this order:  Ginger the ginger , Socks the Husky, and His Majesty, Lee Gon. Hyeon-min is the one assigned to the cleaning up the dead doves on the doorstep the first six months, and Yeong barely even gets to see this one, to the point where he begins to think he’s maybe going through delayed PTSD thing that’s making itself known in form of these extended hallucinations, but no, Gon attests that it’s real and she’s wonderful,  and so clever, look at her, Precious, Yeong, have you seen anything more adorable? (Yeong has. It’s his husband asleep and drooling on the couch every single weekend after staying up too late watching some goddamn baking show. He never bakes, why does he even watch? Who knows.)

(4) Two children. Se-hun (13) and So-hee (4) come to them via White Lily, bruised in ways that make Kang Hyeon-min’s lips press together in a thin line as he tells Yeong about them, and Sister Lee don her lawyer robes for the first time in two decades as she argues in court that their abusive uncle and aunt should be sent to jail. Seo-Gyeong is there to insist on clapping manacles on the forty-somethings as they’re taken away, and Yeong has a quiet conversation with some officials that results in the children regaining all of their parents’ money and property which said relatives had stolen. Sometime between the court case, Hyeon-min comes home one night and says, “So listen, there’s something I think we should discuss” and Yeong takes out a sheaf of papers and slides it across the kitchen counter, and yes, it’s filing for adoption papers and Yeong’s already put his stamp on it, and well, Hyeon-min will sign in LATER, after he’s fucked his husband on the kitchen table, and AFTER Yeong says, slightly mournful, we won’t be able to do that once the kids come home, and Hyeon-min’s loose limbed and not thinking straight and says  we’ll, uh, send them for sleepovers regularly, and Yeong’s like if you think I’m ever going to let them out of my sight for more than an hour at a time, and Hyeon-min’s entire future life flashes before his eyes AGAIN.

It  still takes them half a year, after the case is settled , to bring the kids home- though if it hadn’t been for PM Koo Seo Ryeong’s entire reworking of the Child Protection and Services Act three years prior, it might have taken longer.

(5) Shortly after they acquire the children, the last addition to the family is made, a gerbil that So-hee calls Mister, except that Mister delivers eight pups about six months later and neither Hyeon-min nor Yeong can figure out how she got pregnant, there were definitely no gerbil house calls being made, and no, Senior Inspector Seo-Gyeong, you are not allowed to make immaculate conception jokes in front of my 5 year old, yes, I can and will enforce that, why don’t you try, Major Jo etc.

(6) I lied, Mister wasn’t the last addition, little Joon-Seo joins them five years later and is everybody’s baby for the rest of his life, he would like to move to another country as soon as possible,  to get away from his siblings, his appa’s annoying twin siblings, his dad’s even more annoying sisters, His Majesty who insists that he has to be the next mathematician in the family there’s nobody else left and also gen 8 of Mister’s family, his gross old dads and everyone except his lovely grandmas and Sister Lee, seriously can everyone else just LEAVE HIM ALONE, thanks a lot.

EPILOGUE to the EPILOGUE

(7) Twenty seven year old Soo-hee walks in on her gross old dads making out ON THE GODDAMN KITCHEN COUNTER I WAS GOING TO COOK A MEAL FOR YOU THERE OH MY GOD I AM NEVER GOING TO COME BACK TO THIS HOUSE

(8) Entirely unrelated, and also unknown to So-hee, that was the week that a certain Corean born artist of international fame returns to his motherland for his first show there. The public go crazy for him, but former Prime Minister and current chair of the International People’s Movement for Climate Justice Koo Seo Ryeong, when asked in an interview about her opinion, said, quote, I suppose it’s passable , if you’re into that kind of thing, but I like to spend my leisure time making the world habitable for our children so that they can produce something that will be remembered for generations. 

Question reference from this meme! Play along! :D

[blackswaneuroparedux]

Treat Your S(h)elf

The Places In Between by Rory Stewart

“I offered Asad money but he was horrified. It seemed a six-hour round trip through a freezing storm and chest deep snow was the least he could do for a guest. I did not want to insult him but I was keen to repay him in some way. I insisted, feeling foolish. He refused five times but finally accepted out of politeness and gave the money to his companion.Then he wished me luck and turned up the hill into the face of the snowstorm." 

- Rory Stewart

Just weeks after the fall of the Taliban in January of 2002 Scotsman Rory Stewart began a walk across central Afghanistan in the footsteps of 15th Century Moghul conqueror Emperor Babur and along parts of the legendary Silk Road, from Herat to Kabul. He'd find himself in the course of twenty-one months encountering Sunni Kurds, Shia Hazala, Punjabi Christians, Sikhs, Kedarnath Brahmins, Garhwal Dalits, and Newari Buddhists. He said he wanted to explore the "place in between the deserts and the Himalayas, between Persian, Hellenic, and Hindu culture, between Islam and Buddhism, between mystical and militant Islam." He described Afghanistan as "a society that was an unpredictable composite of etiquette, humour, and extreme brutality."

The Places in Between is Stewart's account of walking across Afghanistan from Herat to Kabul in January 2002. The book was the winner of the Royal Society of Literature Ondaatje Award and the Spirit of Scotland Award and shortlisted for the Guardian First Book Award, the John Llewellyn Rhys Memorial Prize and the Scottish Book of the Year Prize.

I first read the book as a teenager a few years after it came out when I was spending a few months doing voluntary work for an Afghan children’s charity in Peshawar, Pakistan with my older sister who was a junior doctor at the time.

I read it on the rocky bus ride from Peshawar, Pakistan and into Afghanistan from Jalalabad to Kabul with my sister and her colleagues. I avidly read the book because I already knew the author through my oldest brother but from a distance because of our respective ages. Little did I realise then that I would be back in Afghanistan a few years later but this time in uniform doing my tour in Afghanistan flying combat helicopters against the Taliban.

I had the book with me (but a newer copy) and it took on a greater prescience precisely because as soldiers, even from the most senior officers on down, we privately questioned what the hell were we really accomplishing in a country ravaged by war since the Soviet invasion in 1979 (and that’s being generous given how history has buried empires into the graveyard of Afghanistan as a testament to their hubris).

Maybe it was hubris or perhaps it was that adventurous strain that needs to be scratched that led Rory Stewart to undertake his madcap journey. Stewart did the entire journey on foot, refusing any other form of transportation (and at one point going back and redoing a section of the walk when he couldn't turn down a vehicle ride). He took an uncommon route straight through the centre of the country and the heart of the mountains, instead of the more common route through the south that bypasses the dangerous mountain passes. This choice was partly because it was shorter, partly because the south was still partially controlled by the Taliban, and partly I suspect (though he doesn't say this explicitly) because it's the less-discussed and less-known route, even today.

This is, therefore, a sort of travel book, describing places that 99.99% of readers in the Western world are very unlikely to ever go. It's also unavoidably political, since Afghanistan is unavoidably political. However, unlike many travel books and many books with political overtones, it's carefully observational, documentary, and quietly understated in a way that gives the reader room to analyse and consider. Stewart focuses on his specific journey and concise, detailed descriptions of what he encountered and lets any broader implications of what he saw emerge from the reader's evaluation. He describes how he reacts to the remarkable natural beauty and almost-forgotten ruins that he encounters, giving the reader a frame and a sense of the emotional impact, but he's not an overbearing presence in the book. The story is clearly personal, but he doesn't dominate it. This is a very difficult line to walk, and I don't recall the last time I've seen it walked as deftly.

Instead there is a real sense that the author has gotten over the novelty of travelling and is more focused on the fundamental circumstances he encounters. The book overall is a fascinating read and there is much to be learned about the epistemologies driving the Afghan people and how different interpretations of Muslim teachings (and likewise, any teachings) can create small, but significant differences between neighbours. He has a gift for vividly describing the people and the landscape without injecting himself too much into the scene.

I suspect every reader will take different things from The Places in Between.

For some readers unaccustomed to the culture of Afghanistan, they would find it distressing to read how dogs are treated in Afghanistan. It's said Prophet Muhammad once cut off part of his own garment rather than disturb a sleeping cat. Unfortunately, he didn't feel equal affection for dogs, and they're "religiously polluting." They're not pets, and they're never petted. A quarter of the way in his journey Stewart has a toothless mastiff pressed upon him by a villager and he named him Babur. The evidence of past abuse could be seen in missing ears and tail, and someone told Stewart the dog was missing teeth because they'd been knocked out by a boy with rocks. Stewart found the dog a faithful companion and said he'd call him "beautiful, wise, and friendly" but that an Afghan, though he might use such terms to describe a horse or hawk would never use it to describe a dog.

But I knew all this growing in Pakistan and India as a small girl. Friends would look perplexed that we Brits - or any Westerners - have dogs or cats as pets and even see them as part of the family.

For me though two big themes stuck out when I first read the book.

One of the things that struck me most memorably is the spider’s web of personal loyalties, personal animosities, different tribes and history, and complexity of Afghan politics that Stewart walks through. Afghanistan is not coherent or cohered in the way that those of us living in long-settled western countries assume when thinking about countries. While there are regions with different ethnicities or dominant tribes, it doesn't even break down into simple tribal areas or regions divided by religion. The central mountain areas Stewart walked through are very isolated and have a long history and a complex web of rivalries, differing reactions to various central governments, and different connections. Stewart meets people who have never traveled more than a few miles from their village, and people who can't go as far as his next day's stop because they'd be killed by the people in the next village. It becomes clear over the course of his journey why creating a cohesive western-style country with unified national rule is far less likely and more difficult than is usually portrayed in the Western news media. The reader slowly begins to realise that this may not be what the Afghans themselves want, and some of the reasons why not.

A large part of that recent history is violent, and here is where Stewart's ability to describe and characterise the people he meets along the way shines. It is a tenet of both Islam and the local culture to give hospitality to travellers, which is the only thing that makes this sort of trip possible. Stewart is generally treated exceptionally well, particularly given the poverty of the people (meat is extremely rare, and most meals are bread at best), but violence and fighting fills the minds and experiences of most people he meets. He memorably observes at one point that one of his temporary companions describes the landscape in terms of violent events. Here, he shot four soldiers. There, two people were killed. Over there is where they ambushed a squad of Russians. It's striking how, after decades of fighting either for or against first the Russians and then the Taliban shapes and marks their mental map of the world. It's likely that few of the people Stewart meets are entirely truthful with him, but even that is an intriguing angle on what they care to lie about, what they think will impress him, and how the Afghan people he encounters display status or react to the unusual.

The second big theme that stuck out for me on a personal note was how Stewart respectfully weaves the wonder of history with the sad lament of the destructive loss heritage on his travels. In the book, Stewart followed roughly the same path as Babur, the founder of the Mughal Empire, did in 1504 at roughly the same time of year. He quotes occasionally from the Baburama, Babur's autobiography, which adds a depth of history to the places Stewart passes through. The Minaret of Jam in the mountains of western Afghanistan is one of the (unfortunately rare) black and white pictures in the centre of this book, and Stewart describes the legendary Turquoise Mountain, the lost capital of a mountain kingdom destroyed by the son of Genghis Kahn in the 1220s, of which the minaret may be the last surviving recognisable remnant. He describes the former Buddhist monasteries at Bamyan in Hazarajat (the region of central Afghanistan populated by the Hazara) and the huge empty alcoves where giant statues of the Buddha had stood for sixteen centuries until destroyed by the Taliban in 2001. This book then is full of history of which  is described with a discerning eye for necessary detail.

How Afghanistan's precious historical and cultural legacy was being destroyed even back in 2002 is heart breaking to read. I think many Westerners certainly know about how the Taliban dynamited the giant Bamiyan Buddha statues over a millennium old because they considered them "idols." Just as profound a loss is discovered by Stewart in his travels. There is a legendary lost city, the "Turquoise Mountain" of the pre-Moghul Ghorid Empire. Archeologists couldn't find it - but when passing through the area, Stewart had found villagers who had, and were looting artefacts with no care for the archeological context or the damage they were doing to the site, selling the priceless wares for the equivalent of a couple of dollars on the black market. This is what he tells us about his discussion with the villagers about the lost city:

"It was destroyed twice," Bushire added, "once by hailstones and once by Genghis." "Three times," I said. You're destroying what remained." They all laughed.

Even as I write this I can’t help but think this episode eerily echoes the madness gripping us in Britain, Europe, and the US (albeit for different reasons) in defacing and pulling down historical statues in wanton in acts of extreme ideological vandalism.

Overall I enjoyed the ‘peace’ of this book as there is a constant tone of a simple purpose. There are some moments along the way that are quite confronting and even frustrating, but so many that are warm and celebratory of the Afghan belief in hospitality.

Perhaps others will differ but I didn’t find too many irritating passages that wax-poetic on the evolution of the traveller. Stewart’s writing style is clinical; completely void of sentimentality, he never allows his own initial or personal meditations on these places overtake his observations, written with much hindsight. Whether being harassed by local soldiers or struggling through snowdrifts Stewart does not bridge a gap with the reader to really get a sense of who he his, as if his own story would detract from the crucial timing of his recordings of this landscape and its people.

His own biography is something out of John Buchan. The son of Scottish colonial civil servant who was born in Hong Kong and grew up in the Far East (and subsequently the second most senior official in the British secret intelligence) before being packed off back to England to Dragon School, Eton and onto Balliol, Oxford to study PPE. A short stint with the Black Watch regiment (as his father and uncle before him) before joining the British Foreign Office and work in some hot spots of the world, including a stint as deputy governor in the Coalition Provisional Authority in Iraq after 2003. He went on to work at the Carr Center for Human Rights Policy at Harvard before returning to the UK to successfully run as a Conservative MP in his native Scotland. Served as a minister in different ministries under Prime Minister Theresa May’s government and improbably came close to upsetting the coronation of Boris Johnson as the next leader of the Conservative party. He resigned from the party rather than be purged and made an unsuccessful bid to run as an independent candidate for London Mayor. He continues to writer and author travel books and front documentaries. He has a storied background but he wears it very lightly.

Of course there is a conceit to the book which in a sense all travel books of this kind that largely goes unquestioned. I don’t think it’s wrong to question a certain kind of entitlement that pervades these kind of books, no matter how much I enjoy reading them especially about countries you have traveled to and know a little bit about. Stewart after all embarks on a journey ‘planning’ to rely on the proverbial kindness of strangers because that is an Islamic cultural and religious value. Try planning a trip anywhere in Western Europe or the USA and Canada. I cannot imagine anyone walking across America, or England and Scotland for that matter, who would believe that he was entitled to expect food, shelter and assistance because he asked for it.

And he does it - as have countless travellers before and after him. Because Stewart succeeds in his journey, he is evidence of an astonishing degree of Afghan Muslim hospitality and generosity. As a back packer who has done it rough not just in Afghanistan but also neighbouring Central Asia as well as Pakistan, India, and China I can see why it might rub some up the wrong way. But I also think it’s not cultural or some sort of colonial arrogance on Stewart’s part. It’s hard to articulate but it’s really a kind of cultured sensitivity of people and lands you already are familiar with or know well from childhood.

Certainly for Rory Stewart - and myself - didn’t exclusively grow up in England and Scotland but in the Eastern post-colonial countries of the ex-British Empire that afforded a privileged childhood (privileged as in a real cultural engagement and immersion) that left a deep appreciation and respect for those countries cultures and traditions. I believe for the vast majority of Western back packers who take adventurous treks across these lands they do so partly out of genuine respect and understanding of different cultures.

For instance, the legacy of this book has been that Rory Stewart has spear headed a long term project called Turquoise Mountain. Alongside his partners, they have been re-creating the "downtown" river district in Kabul and restoring it to it's former glory. They have opened schools for people to re-learn the ancient arts of carving, weaving, architecture, etc. They have supported efforts to restoring city blocks that have been covered in a mountain of trash, and restoring homes where families have lived for centuries. And all for free. The Afghan have never been sure why someone would be doing this out of the goodness of their hearts, but that the poignant irony is that the goodness began with them through their hospitality of the stranger.

The kindness to strangers is a real thing in this part of the world. Kindness to strangers has it roots in fear that the strangers might be gods or their messengers alongside the pragmatic need that strangers in a strange land might need assistance. I sometimes wonder how is it we cannot show the same unabashed kindness to strangers to our homes?

However you slice it, you have to admire Stewart for his mostly un-aided walk across Afghanistan. It does take a certain kind of ballsiness to do it. He carried just his clothes and a sleeping bag (and money), trusting that the villagers along the way would put him up for the night and feed him. He got very sick (diarrhoea and dysentery), was at constant risk of freezing to death in the mountains, and had some very unpleasant encounters with Afghan soldiers in the last few days, after rejecting very strong advice not to walk through this section.

Strangely though nothing about this book is breathtaking of ‘Oriental exoticism’ beloved of Western imagination. Indeed nothing in this book is romanticised and nothing is placed on a pedestal. Stewart writes openly and honestly of all the people he met, those friendly, and those that would've preferred to rob him and leave him dead in a ditch. He's truthful and humorous, and I found myself walking alongside him, a sort of ghost following his rugged trail through mountains, valleys, and Buddhist monasteries.

Re-reading this book when I was doing my tour in Afghanistan with time to kill between missions, I wished George W. Bush and Tony Blair - and all the other Western leaders since these two - could have taken that walk with Stewart and learned the lessons he did. Stewart gives you a sense of the complexity and diversity of the culture and of Islam - and just how ludicrous and ignorant were the assumptions and goals imposed on the country by the invading Westerners. Indeed at the very end of his walk, Stewart reaches Kabul, the heart of the western intervention in Afghanistan and the place where all the political theorists and idealists came to try to shape the country. He describes the impact of seeing draft plans for a national government, which look ridiculous in the light of the country that he just traveled through.

It's a rare bit of political fire in the narrative that's all the more effective since it's one of the few bits of political commentary in the book. Indeed it’s all the more rich and relevant given its emergent commentary and background for the current war being fought there. Stewart necessarily tells only part of the story of Afghanistan, but he tells far more of the story than most will know prior to reading it. It should be mandatory reading for anyone making decisions about how to proceed in that region.

I would recommend anyone take a walk with Rory Stewart.

[tvandenneagram]

The Originals: Josh Rosza - Type 9w1

Josh is friendly, loyal and adaptable. Although he finds himself thrown into a new magical world that he never knew existed he manages to navigate the complex power dynamics and find commonalities with many of the other supernatural beings.

At his best, Josh is accepting and kind towards most people he meets. He learns to take charge more and to become a leader to the other supernatural beings. He begins to start seeing his value and becomes more confident and self assured of himself.

At his worst, Josh becomes anxious and reactive. He has a tendency to begin thinking of the worst case scenario when he is stressed and becomes scared of the decisions some of the other characters make.

Josh has a longing to be normal and to fit in. He expresses this to Davina and it is one of the major elements that brings them closer together. They have a very strong friendship and are deeply loyal to each other. Josh sees his friendship with Davina as a connection to his former human side and normalcy. The two become each other’s confidants and share their relationships and worries. Josh has a calming effect on Davina and is empathetic to her. He helps quell some of her anxieties and reassure her.

Josh develops a complicated relationship with Aiden due to their different supernatural species. Once they meet they are immediately drawn to each other and continue to have a deep connection towards each other. Josh was very supportive and caring toward Aiden and remained committed to him until his death. Josh was willing to run away with Aiden when he asked him to and was only stopped because of Aiden’s death.

Josh is quite even keeled and calm. He has a sarcastic and wry sense of humour and likes to see the lighter side of things. He handles very stressful situations well and at times is afraid of stating his true thoughts and opinions. When he need to Josh is willing to work with people he doesn’t like or respect in order to achieve what needs to be done. This can be seen when he works with Freya later in the series.

Josh has a wing 1 as he is concerned with doing what he thinks is right and is more inward in his feelings and emotions.

Tri-type: 9w1 - 6w7 - 2w1

Some quotes to describe Josh’s motivation

"We could just, I don't know… be ourselves?"

“If there’s anything I’ve learned in the past year it’s that it doesn’t matter what he is. It matters who he is. So who is he?”

“Given that The Hollow is like pure evil incarnate, maybe you should consider reaching out to people who are just a little more powerful than me. Like Mikaelson people.”

“Why do you guys even need me? Huh? I mean, I know I'm adorable, but I'm extremely small potatoes.”

“And hey, look, if you, uh, get nervous, or, like, need a vote of confidence or whatever? Just remember that, uh, I think you're pretty amazing.”

“Uh, sorry to interrupt here. Wouldn't it be smart to, like, align ourselves with the crazy powerful, unbeatable family who also wants to kill this thing?”

Josh: “ My first boyfriend -- my only boyfriend, really-- gave them to me for Valentine's Day senior year. Tried to hide them in my bedroom, but my parents found them. You may not know it, but roses will jam even the best paper shredders. You know, I don't have a home to go home to, or a family to go home to. I used to hate myself for that, but the thing is, I don't really care what they think anymore. If your family doesn't like you the way you are, screw them! You got me, and Cami... even Marcel. If you want.” Davina: “Marcel used me.” Josh: “He used you to fight the people who were trying to kill you. And, you know, he also saved you from those people. So you don't have to trust the guy, but he does love you. P.S so do I.”

[somethingpoeticiguess]

Ohshc Au Idea

- Ohshc Au where they all go to art school (both performing and drawing and stuff y’know (is it called visual??))

- Sort of like the same vibe as that show on Netflix called Backstage

- The school would be one of those super prestigious art schools like the Juilliard of their universe

- Tamaki would obviously be there to study piano

- he’d spend hours in the practice rooms and all of the other pianists hate him because he’s got some sort of superhuman power when it comes to booking practice rooms before anyone else

- Kyoya would be vocal performance with a minor in Broadway type acting (help I don’t know the actual terms)

- here I go again rambling about my Kyoya can sing headcanon that I will go down with 

-Babey boy would probably be known as one of those people who can sing anything throughout the school

- Everyone from school can tell his voice apart from everyone else’s

- like if they walk past a practice room and hear him singing inside they can tell instantly that it’s him

- like picture this: a senior is giving a freshman a tour of the college and they walk past the practice rooms and inside practice room 3 the Freshman can hear someone singing in the best voice that they have ever heard. The freshman says to the senior with starstruck eyes “Who’s that??” “Ahh” the senior says “That’s Kyoya Ootori, he’s kind of a legend around here”

- Hikaru would be a Shakespearean type actor

- Like he has whole ass monologues on the tip of his tongue at any given moment

- He’s a super good actor however he can’t sing for shit so he could never be in a musical

- He’s secretly jealous because Kyoya can sing so well

- They’re secretly jealous of each other

-Kyoya wishes he could act as well as Hikaru and Hikaru wishes he could sing as well as Kyoya

- Kaoru would be the one to take over their mother’s business and would study fashion and clothing design 

- Even though Hikaru is the eldest he had no interest in the family business and decided to pursue acting instead 

- Luckily for the Hitachiin family Kaoru took to clothing design from a very early age

- He makes clothes for the rest of the hosts on a regular basis

-He makes all of the clothes that the hosts wear for their performances and art galleries and whatnot

- The drama department loves him because he makes all of their costumes

- Mori would be a sketch artist, a painter, and a sculptor

- He’d basically do everything in the art department from drawing to welding metal figures

- he doesn’t talk much so he communicates through his art as cheesy as that sounds

- He constantly has either paint on his clothes, clay under his nails, or both at the same time

- People in the general public are slightly concerned when he opens his bag and they see a blowtorch inside

- His metal sculptures are littered all across campus

- Some of these sculptures include but are not limited to: A giant replica of Mary Poppins, Patti Lupone (Kyoya legit cried when he saw this one), and a giant metal spider that the students have so aptly named Kenneth

- Kenneth lives on top of the Art building 

- Despite the fact that he’s an art student he really loves showtunes and gets really excited to see/hear Kyoya sing them

- Honey is a culinary arts student

- His specialty is (obviously) desserts

- He makes the prettiest cakes and the most delicious meals

- He has to stand on a step ladder to make those giant wedding type cakes

- He constantly smells like a bakery... like constantly

- Haruhi is a violinist

- she treats her violin like a baby. She even keeps it in the child seat part of the cart when she goes to the grocery store

- She goes to the school on a violin scholarship 

- She plays a cheap violin she got from a small music store when she was ten with her birthday/Christmas money that she had been saving for years 

- The way she plays that cheap little violin you’d think it was a super nice expensive one 

- She’s mostly self taught

- When she was young she couldn’t afford lessons so she taught herself to play

- She only began to take lessons when she got to high school

- I imagine when she isn’t playing classical for school her playing sounds a lot like Ada Pasternak

- Ada Pasternak Video: https://youtu.be/YQSzk44hBmk

- when they don’t live in the dorms they rent a fairly large house that they all live in together (like that house that Sam Golbach, Colby Brock, Corey Scherer, Aaron Doh, Devyn Lundy, Jake Webber, and Elton Castee lived in together) 

- Tamaki has a whole ass grand piano in his room 

- Nobody’s really sure how he got it in there

- He also has a keyboard that he brings around the house for jam sessions with the other hosts

- They have jam sessions in the living room

- Tamaki brings down his keyboard or he plays the little theatre piano that sits in their living room

- Haruhi brings down her little violin that she loves with all of her heart Kyoya would sing with them

- They’d do stuff like that Ada Pasternak video I put earlier in this post except instead of Haruhi singing it would be Kyoya

- Mori’s room legitimately would not be a bedroom

- It would be an art studio with a Mori sized bed in the corner and a theatre style clothing rack next to it

- he has like four easels all around the room and a desk covered in drawing pads, pencils, ink markers, colored pencils, oil paint, and random multicolored stains

- In the middle of the room he has a raised platform with whatever sculpture he’s currently working on sitting on top of it

- He has a shelf with all sorts of supplies in it

- He has like three different blowtorches, a huge array of paint brushes, different sharp things for his clay sculptures, hammers, a bunch of books on the history of art, and a dirty paint and clay covered apron with random burn holes in it

- Kyoya has like a whole arsenal of throat coat teas and herbal things in his room as well as a kettle and a hot plate

- In the corner he built a small room that only has room for one average sized person to go inside and coated the inside with sound proof padding and that’s where he practices belting and other different vocal techniques 

- Kyoya absolutely loves their giant bathroom

- The acoustic qualities make him really excited he loves to sing in there 

- Kyoya, Tamaki, and Haruhi sometimes jam in their fantastically acoustic bathroom because they are attracted to good acoustics the same way a moth is attracted to a bright light

- Hikaru has a whole library of scripts in his room

- like his bookshelves are just overflowing with scripts from all the plays he’s been in 

- Some books on Shakespeare and the ins and outs of acting are scattered around the bookshelf too but it’s mostly scripts

- On his desk he keeps the script from the show that he’s currently in right in the middle of his desk with a pencil cup in the corner full of pens and highlighters 

- He has a huge bulletin board in his room filled with pictures from different shows and different print outs of his favorite monologues and whatnot

- Kaoru’s room is similar to Mori’s in the sense that it’s barely a bedroom at all

- He has a small bed and a small dresser and the rest of the space is filled with his work

- He has a huge desk that is covered in scraps of fabric, scissors, and measuring tape

- He has a HUGE pin cushion in the corner that would be an absolute hazard if it fell to the ground

- Above his desk is a giant bulletin board similar to Hikaru’s except his is less of a collage and more of an idea board

- It’s full of sketches for new designs and has the occasional magazine clipping or inspirational quote

- Honey basically lives in the kitchen 

- His room only has a bed and a dresser and a few ginormous bookshelves

- on these bookshelves are countless numbers of cookbooks

- 90% of what’s on these bookshelves is actually just regular notebooks and journal type things full of recipes that Honey has come up with himself 

- The kitchen is HIS domain none of the other hosts ever use it other than to get the occasional glass of water or snack here and there

- They basically eat gourmet every night

- He cooks all of their meals and uses them as his guinea pigs 

- Luckily for them 99% of the time his food is absolutely delicious

- Their house is full of just bits and pieces of what they do

- Mori’s artwork decorates the entire place

- The centerpiece for their table is a bouquet of metal flowers that Mori made

- His paintings decorate the walls and some of his sculptures sit as decorations in some of the different rooms

- There is sheet music literally all over the house

- nobody bats an eye when hey find the crescendo piece of a classical violin song on the kitchen table

- or when they find the lyrics to a classical opera song jammed in between the couch cushions

- Kaoru will often use Haruhi as his model for his dresses 

- he’ll have her put on a tank top and bike shorts and literally build a dress onto her body and by the end she’s walking around the house in a whole ass Victorian style ballgown

- God help their house if Kyoya gets sick before a performance

- The amount of throat coat tea he consumes is absolutely unreal

- He has a little table with shelves behind it in his room with a tea kettle and a hot plate on it

- on the shelves behind it are boxes upon boxes of throat coat and herbal tea and a whole arsenal of mugs

- The house always smells like cooking food because Honey lives in the kitchen and is always cooking something or other

-When it doesn’t smell like food it smells like burning metal because Mori is always working on some sort of metal sculpture with one of his countless blowtorches 

- This boy legit keeps a fire extinguisher in his bedroom in case he sets something on fire with said blowtorch

- Christmas season is absolutely wonderful in their house

- Tamaki and Haruhi are playing Christmas songs

- Kyoya is singing them

- Honey is making all sorts of festive dishes (You should see him on Thanksgiving he goes absolutely ham (pun intended))

- Kaoru is making festive outfits

- Mori makes each and every one of their Christmas decorations

- and Hikaru is practicing his lines for the production of A Christmas Carol that he’s in every year (This is his fourth time playing Scrooge!)

- But all in all this is a house where creativity flourishes and they all boost each other’s creativity to the max

- and of course they all graduate and become extremely successful and stay close knit forever

BONUS:

- Renge is also a vocalist she performs with Kyoya very often

- Kasanoda is a ballet student

- People are surprised he does something so graceful and elegant because he looks scary but when you really think about it it fits his personality 

- Nekozawa is a poet (Edgar Allan Poe 2.0)

[rockcampfifteen]

How I Got to Sesame Street: Bill Sherman Talks Working with Lin-Manuel Miranda, Where He Keeps His Grammys, and Being Ignored by Big Bird

I didn’t think that Rock and Roll Camp XV was even going to happen this year, if I’m being honest, but nothing about this year has been predictable, so here we are. A dozen campers and about as many counselors in a Zoom meeting. We made it work, and it worked well. Since camp wasn’t a physical, in-the-moment experience, there wasn’t a lot of opportunity for photos or camper interviews, but we did get the chance to interview Bill Sherman, an Emmy, Tony, and Grammy award winning musician. Bill has worked on musicals like Hamilton and In the Heights and is a music director for Sesame Street. He was laid-back, down-to-earth, and didn’t give any impression that he was full of himself. Bill didn’t act like most award-winning musicians and talked openly about his life and experiences. He mentioned that he had been stuck in traffic, and that he was worried he’d be late for our interview. We knew that he was taking us seriously, that he didn’t just see us as a bunch of kids wanting to have a talk. 

-Elsa

Elsa: I just want to say we appreciate you taking the time to talk to us. We’ve got a lot of questions, so we’ll jump right in. What was the first instrument you learned to play, and what attracted you to it?

My parents got me piano lessons when I was in elementary school, and I was super not into it. I believe the teacher’s name was Mrs. Record—which is hilarious for a music teacher’s name—and she taught me for a couple years, and I was terrible at it, so I quit. And then in fourth grade we had to pick an instrument, and the music teacher where I went to school was a woodwind player. He was like, “Bill you should play the clarinet.” I was like, “Okay, sounds great.” And then in sixth grade—this is a good story—he goes, “You know, the clarinet has the same mechanics and fingerings of saxophones,” and I was like, “No way, that sounds like a way cooler instrument than the freaking clarinet.” If any of you are clarinet players, I don’t mean to offend you. Also, I still play the clarinet. Anyway, he showed me the saxophone and I was immediately attracted to it. And when he left the room, I took the saxophone and left with it and I didn’t tell him. So I stole it. I took it home. And it became my thing. I was obsessed with it. My teacher’s name was Gary Meyer. He later went on to be my private saxophone teacher for like a hundred years, until I went to college, and now, he in fact works for me. He plays in the Sesame Street Band. He’s a woodwind player. So it was a pay-it-forward, full circle moment, to have my fourth grade music teacher be in my band.

I got really into jazz. I went to a real big jock high school, and I stopped playing sports and just played saxophone, all day every day, all the time. And in college it became my identity. Mike can attest—I was the saxophone guy. I led bands, and I played all the time… if you see movies about colleges, and there’s a music guy? I was kind of that guy. 

I later taught myself to play piano—another full circle moment—because composing on the saxophone for anybody is a difficult thing to do. I have a number of guitars that I have no idea how to play.

Elsa, by the way, has your name become like the coolest ever since the whole Frozen situation? My kids would think that’s the coolest thing ever.

Elsa: Frozen came out when I was in about second grade, and of course I was so hyped for it. I went to a theater with a friend of mine, and afterwards I was like, “Oh, I was the Ice Queen, oh yeah!!” And of course you go back to elementary school, and everyone’s like, “Oh, you have ice powers,” and so pretty soon I was tired of that. But it’s kind of gone away. It went away for a few years, and people stopped associating it with my name. And then Frozen 2 came out and here we are again—

(Bill Laughs.)

Michael: I have a question for you, Bill.

Okay, Mike. Does everybody know that Mike used to be this amazing trumpet player, and he was in my band, and he wrote for the band, and he packed this unbelievable punch, and he was like this tall, and he was this awesome powerhouse, and truth be told... I don’t know if he knows this, but in certain theory classes I would cheat off him, because he had a way better ear than I did.

Michael: I wasn’t going to bring it up, but I do think it’s hilarious that I was better at theory than you. But so anyway, in the band, you were the only one really bringing in your own songs—so I’m wondering where the urge and the confidence to start writing your own material came from?

In high school I wrote poems, and then my senior year of high school, I wrote this instrumental thing and I played it at my graduation. All the people who thought I was a nerd for being into music, they stood up and clapped and I thought that was so freaking cool. That was my first move into composing. And in college it was just kind of what we did. It just seemed like how hard can it be? You start breaking down pop tunes… at that time, we were kind of doing jam band, Ozomatli tunes, four chords and the truth. And you find that pop music in general is four chords and the truth. Like the Foo Fighters: they play four chords really quietly, and then the same four chords way louder, that’s just what they do, and it’s awesome, and it works every time. 

The other thing about writing music is that it’s very hard to know if you’re quote unquote “good at it.” I’ve written thousands of songs, and I’d say 75% of them are terrible. But 25% of them people really dig into, and then you wonder, Why this song? Like for Sesame Street, I get very immediate feedback. My friends who have kids, they’ll immediately let me know, This is the song. I wrote this song for Maren Morris on Sesame Street called “Oops, Whoops, Wait, Aha” which is about children calming down, waiting to answer a question, not just like going crazy, and people will send me photos or videos of their kids dancing along to this particular tune, which is great. But that’s the first time in four years that anybody’s contacted me, and in those four years I’ve written hundred of songs that nobody cares about. And so, if you get a good one every four years, that’s great. Songwriting is like anything, you’ve gotta  try it, and then you try it some more. 

The other best way to do things that are creative and original is to at first emulate people. That’s what we were doing—Mike and I in our band in college. I liked Salif Keita, and I liked Fela Kuti, and I was like, I can write a song like this. We wrote songs that sounded, almost exactly like Fela Kuti tunes. It’s not really original, it definitely sounds like something you’ve heard before, but that’s how you learn how to do it. Study the craft, how other people did it.

Marilla: On Sesame Street, how do you write thousands of songs and not make them all sound the same?

That’s a really good question. I have in fact repeated myself a number of times. I was working on another show a couple years ago, and I wrote this song, and it was great, and they loved it, and then a year and a half later I sent them another song, and they got back to me and were like, “Hey, sorry to say this, but I’m pretty sure this is this,” and they sent me back the song I’d written previously, and it was almost the same exact song, and it was so freaking embarrassing. But I’ve talked with Max Martin about this, and what he does is collaborate. Invite people in. Not to steal their knowledge, but he constantly has new people coming into his fold, because I think you’re right, after a while you just start repeating yourself. 

The fun thing about Sesame Street is that it can be any genre. Nothing is genre specific. I can write a hip hop tune one day. And a bossanova the next day. And a ballad another day... One of my favorite things about Sesame Street is that we’re able to bring on new people to keep it interesting and fresh. I’ve been employing more women lately, because there was a time when my writing staff was really male-heavy. Also, Abby is a girl, Rosita is a girl, we need to have that voice. Lately my job at Sesame Street has become more of being like a procurer of music, as opposed to physically writing it—more of like a producer role. People send me stuff all the time. Feel free to get my email from Mike if you have songs you want me to listen to... I will listen to anything.

Lyla: Do you have any advice for younger people—or people in general—when it comes to writing and creating music?

My advice would be to not give up. Not everyone is going to like your stuff. There’s just no way. It’s not gonna happen. It’s a lot of work to be a songwriter, because you’ll write 100 songs, and 98 of them will be terrible, and two of them will be great. 

My first couple years in college, I got asked to be in like 100 bands, and I said yes to everyone. Because initially, you have to say yes to everything. You have to play in a crappy cover band. And you have to play in a cool band like we were in, and you have to play in a funk band, because everybody plays in a funk band in college, and then you get to a point where you turn a corner, and then you can start saying no. I didn’t start saying no until five years ago. 

Lyla: Another question I have is that you mentioned you used to play in a lot of bands in college, and earlier you mentioned playing at your senior year graduation—did you ever think you would come this far, working with Lin-Manuel Miranda, and writing big musical pieces? Did you ever expect to earn awards or anything?

Well, no. I don’t think you ever expect awards. Success is a whole other thing—you can’t prepare yourself for things like that, it just sort of happens. In the process of saying yes to everything, I got myself into positions that I never would have expected. But when we were in college, all I wanted was to be a saxophone player, and move to New York, and make no money, and just sort of grind it out, and then I met Lin my sophomore year of college. I music directed his musical. And I had never music directed a musical, I had no idea what that meant, but I said yes. And I went on to direct all of his musicals in college, and then we graduated college, and we were roommates forever, and then it was like, “Hey, people want to make In the Heights into something,” and I was like, “Okay, that seems like the most logical thing to be doing,” so  we made In the Heights…

I got involved in musicals just randomly, because I said yes to something. I’d never liked musicals. I’d seen Rent, with the original cast, but I’d never listened to Sondheim, or Andrew Lloyd Webber…

But the success thing, it all happened very quickly. Between the ages of 22 and 26. In those four years, it was like marriage, children, awards. I wasn’t expecting any of that stuff.

People come over to my house and pose with my awards, which makes me really uncomfortable, and then one person drank out of the Grammy once... that happened. I have a platinum record in my bathroom. I didn’t know where else to put it. 

Elsa: Have you ever thought about writing your own musical?

It’s weird to go from writing minute and a half long songs that are like a single verse and a chorus, to writing these ten minute long opuses that have to have all this narrative in them, and do all this stuff—it’s definitely a different side of my brain. With & Juliet, it was taking Max Martin’s music and turning it into a musical. Deconstructing all these pop hits like “Oops I Did It Again.”

Marilla: How did it feel to see Hamilton on Disney Plus all these years after you worked on it?

It was far out. It was like seeing an old friend. It’s filmed really well, and you’re seeing views of things you’ve never seen before, it sounds fantastic… it just brought back a lot of old memories. Chris Jackson has been my best friend for like a hundred years, and so has Lin, and seeing them on stage, it was a reminder of how good they are… Now, years later, my children have memorized the record, they’re singing the whole thing, which is unbelievably irritating. My daughter—she thinks she knows the whole thing, but she really doesn’t, she just makes up her own lines during the really fast parts, which is really funny, and makes me laugh. I watched it the day it came out. It was a nice excuse to reach out to friends and tell them how good it is, how good they are.. And at a time when theaters are closed, it was cool to see people excited about seeing theater..

Lizzy: What’s your favorite thing to work on, out of all these different projects?

When we were in college, I thought being in a band was the coolest thing ever, and I wanted to play live music for my whole life, and I didn’t want to do anything else. And now I do other things, and all I want to do is play in a band in front of people! Once a year Sesame Street has a gala that some very famous person will come and play at. Last year it was John Legend, two years ago it was Michael Buble, and so there was this big band, and I played in it, and I had so much fun. I kind of miss performing. I play in this thing called Freestyle Love Supreme, which is this documentary that was on Hulu, we make up rap songs--and that’s fun, but I play keyboards, sort of behind the scenes, and so I sort of miss having a band, like we did in college. I’m getting all these memories, Mike, about WestCo Cafe.

These days my favorite thing is collaborating with new folks. We just finished the In the Heights movie, which comes out next year, Sesame Street goes into production in a couple weeks… I’ve been incredibly lucky and honored to do what I do, so talking about it always makes me feel sort of strange, because to me it’s just what I do, but to you it’s like, there’s no way that’s a real job, and explaining it sounds ridiculous, and I’m glad you wanted to listen to me talk about myself for half an hour.

Peter: What’s it like working with Big Bird?

Every day that I walk on to the Sesame Street set, I kind of have to pinch myself a little bit. The guy who played Big Bird passed away a couple years ago. He’s also the guy who played Oscar the Grouch, and he didn’t really know me for a couple years, and then I went to an award show, and I won an award, and he’s actually the guy who presented it to me, and so he hands me the award, and he goes, “Oh my God, I never knew what you did.” And so imagine Big Bird saying to you, “I never knew what you did.” And that was terrifying. Every time I hear Big Bird’s voice, or Kermit’s voice, or Grover --- it freaks me out, because I was a big Grover fan when I was a kid. Those are the times when you’re like, Whoa, this is surreal.  

[lukalovesyou]

Reddie Playlist

Hey! Ok so I’ve been working on this Reddie playlist for a while now and I’ve finally decided to put it out! It’s available on Spotify, Apple Music, and YouTube. This 45 song playlist is takes you from before It ch 1 until after It ch 2 and it’s pretty much just Richie’s perspective with Eddie’s sprinkled in. It works best if you listen to it full way through without shuffling it, it’s supposed to tell a story! I’m gonna leave a guideline to everything under the links to the playlists so you can follow along if you want! I really hope you guys enjoy, please leave me feedback because I’d love that! Special thanks to my girlfriend @jivs-jam for helping me find songs and for owning the Apple Music Playlist. Another thanks to my sister for listening to it through with me before I put it out and to you for listening!

Here it is!!

~Storyline~

Key:

•Richies POV

•Eddies POV

•Both POV

•important song

•song quote

By your side by Mellah

This song is meant to establish their friendship as it’s the beginning of the playlist. Richie and Eddie are best friends, obviously, and they always have each other’s back.

“You need not ask me for more ‘cause friend I’d give you it all, to have and to hold, when you’re down, when you fall”

La Lune by Madeon ft. Dan Smith

Richie is beginning to feel differently about Eddie as he’s getting older even thought nothings really changed between them. He can’t pinpoint what’s wrong but he’s worried about the change.

“Does it matter if we change? Does it matter at all? Don’t you worry about me, Friend, don’t you worry at all”

could this be love? By saturn 17

Richie realizes that his feelings towards Eddie are no longer simply friendly and have crossed over into crush territory. He notices everything Eddie does and he absolutely admires him. By the end he’s trying to push it down and convince himself his feelings aren’t real.

“I’ve never felt like this before. Oh, I’ve never had this feeling till I saw her. She’s making me feel like this could be love, but who knows, could it be love?”

Walking All Day by Graham Coxon

Pretty much just Riche doing anything to make Eddie smile or laugh. He just wants to be near him 🥺

“Walkin’ all day with my mouth on fire trying to get talkin’ to you”

Wonderwall by Oasis

Richie wants to tell Eddie everything he feels but he can’t.

“Because maybe you’re gonna be the one that saves me cause after all, you’re my wonderwall”

Sleepover by Hayley Kiyoko

Richie wants him and Eddie to be more than friends but he knows he can’t tell Eddie that. Like in La Lune, they are doing things they would usually do, like have sleepovers and such, but it all feels different now.

“Even when you’re next to me it’s not the way I’m picturing, no.”

Why Not Me by Alexander Rybak

Richie is happy that they’re friends but he wants more. He’s distraught that he isn’t what Eddie might want.

“You wonder who your date will be. I wonder, Katherine, why not me?”

Daisy by Zedd

Eddie is beginning to catch feelings for Richie as well. He acknowledges how troubled Richie seems and wishes he could tell him just how much he means to him.

“Let me show you how a kiss should taste. Trust me, I won’t give your heart away. Why you running, running, when I’ve got it right here? Oh, I would love you if you let me.”

Space Age Love Song by A Flock Of Seagulls

Just imagine Richie and Eddie doin cute shit like going to a museum or whateva and falling for each other even more without the other one knowing ��

“I saw your eyes and you touched my mind, although it took a while, I was falling in love.”

Your Love Song, Pt. 2 by HUNNY

I usually just imagine Richie singing to this song in his room thinking about Eddie but for the purpose of this playlist, Richie is finding it harder to mask his feeling. Eddie seems to be vibing, though, so Richie begins to think he might just have a shot.

“Baby, I want to be part of your love song. Maybe I already am.”

Boyfriend by Big Time Rush

This is self explanatory (and self indulgent.) Richie isn’t saying this to Eddie bUt he’s hyping himself up so he can finally ask Eddie out.

“Don’t be scared to come, put your trust in me. Can’t you see? All I really wanna be is your boyfriend.”

Jenny by Studio Killers

This is the get together song!! Richie finally tells Eddie how he feels and Eddies gay ass obviously recuperates his feelings. I personally imagine them in their Freshman year of high school when this takes place, just to put things into perspective.

“I wanna ruin our friendship, we should be lovers instead. I don’t know how to say this cause you’re really my dearest friend.”

I Wanna Waste My Time on You by The Crookes

This is the beginning of the “Honeymoon” phase of their relationship, a theme that prevails for the next few songs (until Yellow Cloud). They spend every second with each other, more than normal. It’s just a feel good new love type song. The idea of escapism is started here and prevails until the end of their teenage years.

“I wanna waste my time on you, waste my time on you. Spinning round the skyline, when everything was new.”

Lay By Me by firekid

Another song in the “Honeymoon” phase. Very wholesome and cute, just two idiots in love.

“I’ll show you the world tonight as long as you say you’re mine.”

Talk Too Much by COIN

Richie’s a Trashmouth. That’s it. You can imagine they’re on a date, idk I just had to do it to em.

“You know I talk too much. Honey, come put your lips on mine and shut me up.”

Yellow Cloud by Trixie Mattel

As they become more serious and as they get deeper into their teenage years, Eddie dreams of getting out of Derry with Richie in tow. The “Honeymoon” phase of being overly clingy may be over, but they love each other just as much as before.

“When we’re older, we stay the same. Couple of losers who won the game.”

Everlong by Foo Fighters

Richie wants nothing to ever change between them, but he’s afraid that he might do something wrong, his inner insecurities attacking him. He just wants everything to work out, and Eddie assures him it will.

“And I wonder when I sing along with you if everything could ever feel this real forever, if anything could ever be this good again.”

Wouldn’t It Be Nice by The Beach Boys

Richie and Eddie talk about the future outside of Derry.

“Wouldn’t it be nice if we were older? Then we wouldn’t have to wait so long. And wouldn’t it be nice to live together in the kind of world where we belong?”

Come on Eileen by Dexys Midnight Runners

I imagine this song as their first Homecoming dance together, probably around their Sophmore year of high school. Richie is hyping up his boyfriends obviously. You can take this song with its intended meaning but they babies so 🥺 imma pretend I didn’t hear that.

“Come on Eileen. Oh I swear, at this moment you mean everything.”

Two Men in Love by The Irrepressibles

They feel so deeply in love as the relationship slowly builds and they plan on running away with each other after they graduate. I also imaging them coming out to the losers about their relationship in this song.

“There’s a strange love inside, it’s getting louder, and louder, and louder, and louder, and louder. There’s a danger I can’t hide. Who I am, it’s who I am, it’s who I am, it’s who I am. I’m in love.”

Roman Holiday by Halsey

Richie gets his licence during his Junior year and they escape Derry for the weekend. This also symbolizes Eddie’s wish to run away with Richie and how that want keeps getting stronger.

“Feet first, don’t fall, or we’ll be running again.”

Eddie Baby by Felix Hagan & the Family

This boy is in love. That’s it. Oh and it’s like near the end of Junior year.

“Oh Eddie, baby, Won’t you come to my arms tonight? I beg and plead you please succumb to my charms tonight.”

18 by One Direction

It’s their Senior year and Eddie gets accepted into a good school out of state. Eddie promises to visit/write/call Richie until Richie has enough money to leave Derry and join Eddie. They both reflect on their relationship over past few years.

“All I can do is say that these arms were made for holding you. I wanna love like you made me feel when we were 18.”

Eddie My Love by The Chordettes

Richie writes Eddie a letter after he leaves for college. Eddie obviously doesn’t get it, and if he did he still wouldn’t have known who Richie was.

“Eddie, please write me one line. Please tell me your love is still only mine. Please, Eddie, since you’ve been gone.”

Malibu 1992 by COIN

Richie and Eddie “break up”, aka Richie never hears from Eddie again and he accepts that he’s probably never gonna hear from him again. Richie convinces himself that Eddie has grown tired of him. He revisits the Kissing Bridge and mourns the loss of his relationship. He tries to convince himself that he’s over Eddie but he knows he can’t be.

“Oh, I did it again, I did it again. Oh I did it again, I must still want you. Our names carved in the pavement, sealed by what’s left of our handprints, now.”

Slow Dances by Winnetka Bowling Leauge

Richie is leaving Derry to pursue standup in California. As he drives away from his hometown he thinks of Eddie one last time. Then he forgets.

“That’s how I knew you, talking with your fast hands, saving all your slow dances. I wish I was there with you.”

La Belle Femme by HUNNY

Twenty One years have gone by since Richie left Derry and Twenty Seven years have gone by since Pennywise terrorized the Losers Club. Richie gets his call from Mike and remembers all the losers- especially Eddie. He remembers his crush but not their relationship. While he doesn’t think he still likes him, he mourns the “lost opportunities” from decades ago.

“What I would do if I was with you in the other room. Dreaming of you, is all I can do, from the other room.”

Sober Up by AJR

Once he sees Eddie again, he’s like “shit I’m still gay” and drinks a shit ton of alcohol, so basically just what happens in the movie. He also reflects on all he remembers now, not just stuff about Eddie but the losers in general.

“Won’t you help me sober up? Growing up, it made me numb, and I wanna feel something again.”

Happily by One Direction

Best way to summarize this is “Wait Eddie you got married? You mean to like a woman?”. Richie is pretty much just jealous of Myra and he wishes he could have Eddie to himself.

“I know you wanna leave, so c’mon baby, be with me so happily.”

Self Control by DallasK

As they return to the townhouse, Richie knows in his mind that both he and Eddie need to leave before Richie does something he’ll regret, especially because Eddie is married. He never verbalizes it.

“I wanna hold you close but I keep telling myself that you should run away cause you got somebody else.”

Parking Lot by HUNNY

Richie’s upset over missed opportunities. He wants nothing more than to be with Eddie but he know he can’t. Unbeknownst to him, he’s wasting his time with Eddie by worrying over lost time.

“I should’ve kissed that girl in the parking lot, I never told her what I wanted to say. I could’ve cracked my head in the parking lot, you never know.”

Raspberry by Grouplove

Eddie has feelings for Richie and gets flustered over him as if he were a teenager again. He tries to explain it away and rationalize it in his mind.

“Cause I was walking in a dream, what you mean? How you been? I never knew I’d get so red.”

Total Eclipse of the Heart by Bonnie Tyler

They are about to go against Pennywise for the second and final time. They both mentally promise themselves that when/if they get out of there alive they’re gonna confess their feelings to each other. They can’t waste anymore time withholding how they feel.

“And I need you now tonight, and I need you more than ever, ans if you only hold me tight, we’ll be holding on forever.”

Fight for Me by Barrett Wilbert Weed (Heathers)

Eddie believes he killed Pennywise and Richie has never felt more in love in his life. He wants Eddie, nothing more and nothing less. He wants to make him and Eddie work. Then like Pennywise is homophobic or whateva.

“And hey, could you face the crowd? Could you be seen with me and still act proud? Hey, could you hold my hand and could you carry me through no mans land?”

Breezeblocks by alt-J

Richie confesses his feelings for Eddie to Eddie before he dies.

“Please don’t go, Please don’t go. I love you so, I love you so.”

Arms Tonite by Mother Mother

Eddie wants to tell Richie that he feels the same and he knows he doesn’t have a lot of time left.

“I cried in the afterlife. I cry hard because I have died and you’re alive”

Smarter Ways Of Saying It by HUNNY

This is the death song. I don’t know what else to say besides I’m sad.

“I ask you to hold my hand as we fall asleep and I forget your face.”

(I Just) Died In Your Arms by Cutting Crew

Eddie is dead and he regrets so much in the afterlife :(( my heart </3

“Oh, i just died in your arms tonight, it must’ve been something you said.”

Open Your Eyes by Snow Patrol

Richie is in denial about Eddies death and he has to be dragged out of Neibolt. So just think of the “we gotta get him outta here” scene.

“Take my hand, knot your fingers through mine and we'll walk from this dark room for the last time. Every minute from this minute now we can do what we like anywhere. I want so much to open your eyes cause I need you to look into mine.”

How to Save a Life by The Fray

Richie regrets not making good use of time and he blames himself for Eddie’s death as the losers comfort him in the quarry.

“Where did I go wrong? I lost a friend, somewhere along in the bitterness.”

Jet Pack Blues by Fall Out Boy

Richie re-carves R+E into the Kissing Bridge and remembers everything. All his childhood/teenage memories, all the good and bad times, but most importantly he remembers his relationship with Eddie. He leaves Derry, still remembering everything even after he arrives back in California. He wishes Eddie could have gone home with him.

“I’ve got those Jet Pack Blues. Fight off the light tonight and just stay with me. Honey, don’t you leave.”

In This Shirt by The Irrepressibles

Richie wishes he can tell Eddie just how much he means to him. All he has to comfort him once he gets back home is some of Eddies belonging that he took with him, including a few of his hoodies.

“In this shirt I can be you, to be near you, for a while.”

Take On Me (MTV Unplugged) by a-ha

Richie is beginning to go through all the stages of grief and is slowly coming to terms with Eddies death.

“I’m odds and ends but I’ll be stumbling away slowly learning that life is ok.”

Letter by Mother Mother

Richie uses writing as a way to cope, whether it’s writing his own comedy routines (finally) or writing Eddie letters that he knows will never get to him no matter how hard he tries.

“I miss my lover, yeah I write letter everyday. The only thing is that my lover don’t ever write me.”

Vanilla Twilight by Owl City

Richie has finally come to terms with Eddies passing and has begun to live his life like he normally would, the only difference being the support he now has from his friends. He still thinks about Eddie daily, however, and still loves him all the same. He could never forget him.

“But I swear I won't forget you. Oh, if my voice could reach back through the past, I'd whisper in your ear, ‘Oh darling, I wish you were here’”

Thank you if you’ve made it this far!! I really hope you enjoyed!! I have an Alternate version of this playlist I’m gonna finalize and put out soon. Anyways have an amazing day/night! Again, I hope you enjoyed!

[cecilspeaks]

144 - The Dreamer

It’s turtles all the way down. But man, it’s kittens all the way up.

Welcome to Night Vale.

Our top story today is the PTA bake sale from 4 until 8 PM at Night Vale High School. There will be cakes, pies, cookies and all sorts of desserts available, and the money goes to a great cause: funding for the blood space war. PTA officers Steve Carlsberg, Susan Willman, and Diane Crayton expect this to be the largest bake sale in more than a decade. This is because the City Council, in cooperation with the Sheriff’s Secret Police, in cooperation with a vague, yet menacing government agency, in cooperation with the world government, in cooperation with the lizard people wing of the Bilderburg group, has mandated that all citizens participate in this spring’s PTA bake sale. A group of men in black suits wearing sun glasses and earpieces gathered around City Hall this morning to confirm this. “Perhaps bring some moist blueberry muffins,” one of the mysterious men announced. “Or invisible pie,” said another. “Oh, oh, oh! If you have one of those special pans that makes only brownie edges,” said another. And each of the men squealed and clapped their hands saying: “Yes! Those are the best!”

So head on down to the high school and buy and sell some tasty baked goods for a valiant cause. It’s illegal not to.

In related news, more than 200 soldiers died yesterday in the bloodiest battle yet of the ongoing blood space war. Not all have been identified, but we have learned that Corporal Waymon Davis and Sergeant Yasmine Alfonse, both residents of Night Vale, are believed to be among those killed. Officials from intergalactic military headquarters said no armistice is in sight, as they are not certain who they are fighting, what they are fighting for, and when the fighting is even happening. “Time is super relative, man,” said senior strategic advisor Jameson Archibald. “Like prrrrrrr, mind-blowing how some of the people who are fighting this war haven’t even been born yet! My head hurts just thinking about that. Spacetime, can you even believe it, just woooow!” Archibald concluded.

Why are we fighting this war and who is involved, and beyond bake sales and online crowd sourced donations, who is funding this conflict? Over the next few weeks, I will try to do my best to answer some of these questions, but beware that these questions may have no answers. Or worse, have answers that make no sense. Today we will start with what we know. We will start the story of – Eunomia.

Eunomia grew up on a farm. Her parents planted invisible all corn. All day, Eunomia would work the fields. This was the early 1800’s, so there were no gas powered tractors or tillers or combines. Eunomia would plant each invisible corn seed one by one in long rows over several acres. She enjoyed this work, because she loved the fresh air, the insects and the birds, and the dusk, her favorite moment. The stars would come out. During the late summer she would lie down in the corn fields, hidden among the tall invisible stocks of majestic corn. And she thought of all the possible worlds beyond this one. Eventually, her mother would call her home for dinner, and the next day Eunomia would dream about those worlds while culling the ripened corn, anxiously awaiting the disappearance of the sun, so she could comprehend the infinite possibilities of a life that was not this one.

On her 17th birthday, Eunomia went out to the corn field, but never returned. When her parents went to look for her, they found a large perfectly round clearing. There was no corn in this circle, only flat dirt, Eunomia’s packed lunch uneaten, her diary, her tools, and the clothing she had worn that morning, the last time anyone saw her.

In the 1980’s, librarians at the Night Vale Public Library found Eunomia’s diary, which historians had long thought to be either or legend. The librarians said they found it underneath the second floor Dr Pepper machine. A bibliophile or historian must have hidden behind the vending machine, trying to escape hungry librarians, but left the artefact behind when that person either escaped or was eaten. The librarians who found the book placed it on display in a new exhibit called “Early Night Vale Life: Quotidian scrawlings of delicious mortals”. It took many years of armed expeditions into the public library and cost many lives for historians to read this entire diary. But their brave efforts eventually paid off, as most of the diary has been transcribed or photographed. Here are a few sample entries from Eunomia’s journal.

“July 15, 1815. The star I have named Wolfgang has moved from its constellation. I believe it to be an artificial vessel. I shall send it a message somehow.

August 1, 1815. Wolfgang has grown larger and now changes colors. Tonight, it is azure. Last night it was turquoise. I predict it has seen our Earth.

September 4, 1815. Tonight I have carved a message into the corn. It is not in English, but in patterns, concentric circles connected by sharp angular lines. I have carved this message quite large. I do hope it is legible. Tomorrow morning I shall find out.”

And just below this entry, Eunomia has sketched this cornfield pattern into her diary. Her final entry was on September 5. “A man with a mirror for a face has come for me. Does not speak. Farewell.”

More on the story of Eunomia in a moment, but first, breaking news from city hall. Pamela Winchell, the city’s director of emergency press conferences, called an emergency press conference to announce, and I quote, “some crazy black bull blanks going down over here, y’all. Whooollyyy blank,” she added. Winchell was standing near a cornfield on the property of John Peters – you know, the farmer. She was covering her mouth with one hand and pointing with the other while jumping up and down. Winchell said, “Y’all have to see this mess, but also like don’t come aaanywhere near here, no way. But still like, it’s kinda beautiful with all the lights and stuff, you really have to see it but you can’t, don’t. Definitely don’t come out here, nothing to see,” she said firmly, only to continue: “Cooool, oh blank that’s raaaaad.”

City Council quickly ushered Winchell away from the microphone and said that they have formed a secret exploratory committee to investigate the lights coming from John Peters’ land. More on this story as it develops.

For weeks after Eunomia disappeared, townsfolk mourned the loss of a young and vibrant girl. The city declared her dead, and her church held a public funeral service. Her mother spoke about Eunomia’s vivid imagination and penchant for drawing and painting. Her father, through halting sobs, said Eunomia was a smart girl who loved astronomy and physics. The crowd gasped at this. Some of the congregation vocally protested saying: “He should not be accusing the dead of paganism. Eunomia’s father calmed them and said: “Science is not a fringe religion, Eunomia taught me this. She wrote about the movement of stars and planets every day. She dreamed of a time that human beings could leave this gravity and travel into deepest space. I, too, thought science was Satan’s checker board but now, thanks to my dear daughter, I think science is neat.” The congregation grumbled, but ultimately accepted that a grief-stricken parent must be given room for the madness of sorrow.

The people of Night Vale moved forward with their lives. Like all tragic loss, they remembered Eunomia, sometimes even see her, only to realize it was a shadow or a mistake of the mind. They felt sad and empty, but over time the sadness waned and the emptiness filled, as they always do.  

Her parents sold the farm and moved into the city. Consciously, they wanted to be closer to their community, but subconsciously they feared having to endure the weight of public empathy, so they mostly stayed indoors. One year after Eunomia’s physical disappearance, the memory of Eunomia had all but disappeared as well. Night Vale was back to normal. No one was thinking about Unomia that day, that anniversary. They were thinking about something else: the visitor.

More on this soon, but first traffic. Christina and Ricardo Alfonse had just exited Route 800 toward Pike Street, when they planned to turn left toward the hospital. Ricardo was driving quickly as Christina was in immense discomfort. She was eight months pregnant when contractions began only half an hour ago. Fearing the complications of an early birth, Christina did not outwardly panic, she inwardly panicked. She grew quiet and still, as her body began to convulse and her guts begun to churn. She turned to her husband and calmly stated: “Ricky, the baby’s coming.” Ricardo, having read nearly a dozen books, including “The Physiology of Pregnancy”, “The Psychology of Infancy”, and “The Anthology of Relevancy”, felt prepared for even this most unexpected of moments. Inwardly, he did not panic. Outwardly, he was a blubbering mess. He rushed his wife into the car and onto the hospital going well over the speed limit, asking Christina if she was remembering to breathe, Christina repeatedly asking Ricardo to slow down and confirmed she was breathing. A minor accident between a top secret military transport truck and a 2011 Honda CRV along Route 800 near Exit 12 had slowed the couple down by a few minutes, and during that traffic jam, Christina turned on the radio to take her mind off her body. She heard a news update about the blood space war and the tragic deaths of two Night Vale soldiers, one of whom was named Yasmine Alfonse. Christina and Ricardo Alfonse knew they were expecting a girl. They knew they would name her Yasmine, because it is a beautiful name. Ricardo laughed at the dark humor of the improbable coincidence, but Christina never laughed nor believed it to be a coincidence. They arrived at the hospital with plenty of time to spare and three hours later their daughter Yasmine was born. Christina had decided to give her a different name, but when the nurse who was filling out the birth certificate asked, Christina said “Yasmine,” as she was unable to say anything else. It was like that moment had already happened and she was only remembering it.

So, expect 15 minute delays on eastbound lanes of Route 800 near Exit 12. This has been traffic.

On the anniversary of Eunomia’s disappearance, an astronaut arrived in Night Vale. The early 19th century villages did not know what an astronaut was. So what they saw was a puffy silver humanoid with a mirror for a face. The astronaut suddenly appeared in the center of town, roughly where the Dog Park is today, and walked silently through the dusty streets. Crowds gathered and followed the stranger, all the while pointing and warmly shouting “Interloper!” in hopes that the frightening figure would show signs of benevolence.

The astronaut, bow-legged and slow, walked without speaking toward the outskirts of town. It took hours, and by the time the visitor stopped, nearly the entire city had followed. There was a greenish aura about the astronaut as they turned to face the gathered mob. The astronaut lifted their gloved hands to their neck and unlatched the helmet. There was a loud hiss and a pop, and the mask lifted. The crowd tentatively approached the stranger, and as the helmet came fully off, the townsfolk cried out in horror. The face of the visitor was nearly skeletal, a rotted corpse, long white hair peeling down the back of the skull, an incomplete set of elongated teeth visible with no lips to hide them, startled eyes ever staring with no lids to express anything else, and what was left of the skin had shriveled and yellowed.

The crowd had begun to step backward, but one woman stepped forward – a tired and pale woman approached the decomposing astronaut and said: “Eunomia?” The astronaut opened her mouth slowly and spoke in a hoarse cough. “Mother,” the astronaut said. Eunomia’s young mother touched her elderly daughter’s face. Unomia broke into dust. And the empty space suit collapsed into the ground.

More news, but first, The weather.

[“The Only Thing” by Ali Holder, http://aliholder.com/]

Dozens of astronauts appeared in Night Vale over the centuries that followed. They still occasionally do, but it has been 36 years since the last appearance. These astronauts are time travelers of sorts. They are Night Vale citizens who fight for humanity in the blood space war, but are returning home to recruit or retire. Those who have returned from battle have told us about Eunomia and her incredible leadership and diplomacy. Her death in the timeline of those fighting his war has get to occur, but in our earthly timeline she died 200 years ago in a cornfield. There is so much more to say about Eunomia and the beginnings of the blood space war, but we cannot cover all that here. It is much too complicated a story. [nervously] Plus, an empty-eyed messenger child from the City Council just showed up in my radio studio to tell me to get to the important news of the day. [gleefully] Thank you, child! Here’s an iPad, go play on Tick Tock and stop staring at me! I’m really creeped out!

[clears throat] The City Council organized a press conference this afternoon, but before it could begin, Pamela Winchell grabbed the microphone from the City Council and shouted: “Surprise emergency press conference! Hey, so a space craft flew down into John Peters’ cornfield, and these beings of astonishing structure emerged with two floating pods, and inside these pods were dead bodies! Ie was sad, but also the bodies looked pretty old, so maybe it was just their time. Sometimes that happens, you know, actually it always happens. No one has ever not died. Anyway, if you lost an elderly friend or relative, maybe come identify the bodies! Sorry for your loss.” Winchell then reached up into her hairline and pulled down a zipper that ran from her head to her waist as she opened herself, a Pamela-shaped cloud drifted up and away over the crowd, a faint voice saying: “Pamela out!” could be heard in the sky.

Several Night Vale residents came to view the bodies. One body was identified as Waymon Davis by his great great grandson Melvin. Melvin brought a daguerreotype photo of Waymon from 1980. In the photo, Waymon was 33 years old. The body Melvin identified looked to be in his sixties, but it was clearly Waymon. Christina Alfonse, holding her newborn baby in her hospital bed, saw the footage on television. When she saw the other body, she saw a woman in her seventies with Yasmine’s eyes, Yasmine’s lips, and even the same thick low forehead. Christina held her baby tight to her chest. “You are a brave woman,” she said to the infant Yasmine as she kissed her tiny cheeks.

Stay tuned next of the sound of an alarm click that cannot be turned off and a dream that cannot be awoken from. Good night, Night Vale,

Good night.

Today’s proverb: Talk to your kids about the birds and the bees. “Never look directly at birds,” you should say to them, “and bees? Don’t get me started.”

[oftripps]

“ –– wow. ”  it’s not so much a critique as it is a g-rated expletive. tripp forces a smile mid-chew and blinks. “ my tastebuds are screaming. gah–– uh, singing. singing. ”  he avoids swallowing and as ring-decorated fingers snag a napkin, wide eyes drifting to the tabletop as a small jingle breezes past tensed lips. “ ~ allergic to mushrooms ~ ”

or, alternatively: this is somethin’ new! the caspar slide pt. 2 !! & this time, it’s ‘bout to get funky !!  so i’m linc and this is tripp and he’s........ a trip, honestly, so let’s just... yeet on into this ––

( joe keery + 22 + muse 12 ) isn’t that phillip joel “tripp” goodman over there? i heard he joined faction: one after they got back to west ham. it’s funny, ‘cause they were only on the service trip because HIS BANDMATES DUPED HIM INTO THINKING THE SIGN-UP WAS FOR A WOODS-THEMED OPEN MIC GIG. hopefully they fit in there – they’re JAUNTY but also OUTRÉ. oh, i’m sure they’ll be fine.

out the door !  ( tripp goodman: a roadmap )

look up townie family in the dictionary and you’ll find a portrait of the goodmans directly beside. these folks have a looooong flippin’ legacy here in lil’ ole west ham, kansas. it all started with montgomery goodman, a good man, who helped west ham’s founders break ground on this midwestern charmer several centuries ago. and now, the goodmans still live on the same property –– a refurbished farmhouse ( now closer to mcmansion ) surrounded by five acres of roooooollin’ hills. once upon a time, they were farming folk. now, theresa and joel goodman run the town’s one and only veterinary clinic. 

honestly, growing up? tripp was a problematic kid. he’d take in frogs from the woods and start his own frog hotels. he’d sneak pets from the clinic to school who “ needed help learning their numbers ”. in class, he’d flick sunflower seeds at the backs of his peers’ heads and, when threatened with discipline, claim he simply “ wanted to see if they’d grow  ” .  so no, to answer your question–– tripp never really saw the real wrath warranted by his rulebreaking.

in fourth grade, he chose the saxophone as his required instrument. he caused such a commotion in his house, that his parents asked his teachers to suggest something quieter. the viola. the flute. the clarinet. the piano. instruments came and went,;instruments were quickly mastered and abandoned. because dear lord, how many times could they listen to the spongebob theme song played on woodwind ?!  on strings ?!  once middle school rolled around, little phillip joel knew his way around a whopping total of six instruments, a tally that would only grow in the coming years. eventually, his parents caved and allowed him to keep playing, so long as he respected instrument curfews. they gave song requests to avoid hearing the same pieces on repeat: the goodman household was probably the only one blessed with an oboe-and-beatbox rendition of under the sea. young phillip joel’s take on the issue was simple: not all heroes wore capes.

( tw: domestic unrest, mentions of violence ) theresa and joel split when tripp was 9. just seven months later, tripp’s mother moved in with her girlfriend: tripp’s guitar teacher, ms. lillith. tripp didn’t mind ms. lillith. she was chill. he came to find out she could knock back a chocolate milk almost as fast as he could, and she liked her grilled cheeses with swiss only. his best friend became a thirty-six year old woman who happened to be his mother’s girlfriend. and that was fine. he could dig it. but joel goodman? oh no. his family name was tarnished. the scandal was too much to bear. joel sued for full custody and nearly made it, thanks to hometown politics and loyalties. but then he made one fatal mistake: he crossed his own son.

at 10 years old, fifth grade phillip joel returned home to his father’s after school with three fingernails painted effervescent blue. sidney frasier made me so cool, he gushed as he put his colored nails on proud display. dad, aren’t i so cool?  the next day, his dad enrolled him in the town’s peewee football program. he returned home from his first practice with a black eye and a split lip. from a ball, the coach insisted. hit the poor fella square in the face, real strong. phillip joel put up a fight against football; it wasn’t for him. it conflicted with music practice. couldn’t he just play music with ms. lillith instead?

the custody battle persisted. they settled on a parenting schedule. joel contested, consistently, months later. and so the cycle persisted up until phillip joel’s 12th year, when he was knocked out cold on the football field. the broken ribs came from hefty tackles. bruises from the fall. concussion from the impact. but theresa spun it to her advantage: joel had since started coaching the middle school team. this was an instance of parental neglect. and, when the courts didn’t comply, she instructed her son to jump down the stairs. one broken ankle later, and joel goodman was accused of child abuse. his word against his injured son’s. the maneuver won theresa full custody. phillip joel has yet to forgive himself.

after the custody battle’s conclusion, joel stayed in town: but phillip joel didn’t want a thing to do with sharing his name. his mother still scolds him as phillip joel, but to everyone else, he became tripp –– inspired by his knack for, you guessed it!, tumbling over his own two feet.

in high school, tripp was the class clown. always smirking, always grinning, always ready to catch someone off guard. he became a pivotal part of west ham high’s jazz band, and even formed a small group with a few buds: face. they played some school events: homecoming, pep rallies, prom. garage-baked young rock, their songs often preached meetings under bleachers and high school never ending. 

in senior year, the band saw a reboot: and after assuming a more indie, spacey sound and a nifty new name –– 1757. –– they saw a rise in local celebrity. coffee shops commissioned them for jam nights. they played on the local radio. so they collectively decided to stick around and see how far they could ride this west ham fame train. with tripp as their frontman, they always leave a memorable impression: he’s not exactly the most run-of-the-mill performer.

1757.’s sound is reminiscent of LANY: i’ve reblogged a few tunes onto tripp’s blog for reference. he’s v much a paul klein / matty healy vibe. big into music. big into losing himself in it.

so what was he up to before the service trip? playin’ tunes. working part-time as a waiter. and brainstorming ways to get out of going on this trip, as soon as he realized his stupid bandmates lied about the form he signed. an open mic in the woods ! pah !  he should have known. but the concept sounded pretty flippin’ cool.

wear our shades on our nose, 'cause we're cool like that ( tripp goodman: the man, the myth, the ledge )

oh god, he’s  w e i r d .  he believes in goblins and ghosts and aliens ( oh my )!

still VERY VERY close with his mother. v broken up about not being able to get through to her, because it was about to be his parents’ wedding anniversary and they were going to anti-celebrate it with big slices of oreo cheesecake and setting things on fire.

how he feels about coming home to west ham: post apocalyptic version.

uhhhh... can he please get a waffle? specifically a cinnamon raisin waffle with extra cinnamon and a shit ton of syrup? actually. syrup with a side of waffles?

why he was banned from his personal twitter.

“ do you even lift, bruv? ”  * proceeds to pick up a teacup & lift his pinkie like a true knock-off british monarch, shitty accent included *

listens to wham! and glam rock. unironically.bluetooth speaker mounted on his bike. no helmet! like an absolute boss. he knows!! wild!! shades on. it’s 2am. it’s dark. but true swag obeys no clock.

catch him biking everywhere stranger things style, actually. his bike’s name is milo because he can roll on for miles. mess with milo and he’ll fuck u up. aka find out if you’re lactose intolerant and slip heavy cream into your meal.

has a strong vendetta against blue doritos. which might take root in some horrific experiences involving cheez wiz, cool ranch, weed, and the new york subway system at 4am on a tuesday. spring break freshman year of college. oof.

he has a lil drawwwwl. tease him about it. he’ll probably blush.

stress-hums chili’s babyback ribs without realizing. catch him singin’ that about to be murdered.

weapon of choice: kindness.

actual weapon of choice: baseball bat.

he will write little jingles to keep morale up. “ so we’re trapped / cash us inside / how bou’ dat ? ”

has a passion for introspective literary quotes. but... has somehow managed to learn each and every one wrong.

friggin’ loves superheroes even though he can’t be bothered to watch the films? he just… always used to get made fun of for liking comic books even though he never read them? “ arachnid man is uh...  heh. he’s pretty dope, huh? ” he embraces the falsehood. someone call him on it.

9/10 times if he’s in the gym, it’s just to eat his donut and watch pay-per-view movies on the bike for free.

apple pie can absolutely be breakfast if you try hard enough. jeez. get with the times, man!

he had a legitimate pet rock before going on this service trip. but has no idea where that bugger’s gone. probably got fed up with tripp serenading him with “ we will rock you ” at all hours of the night.

lawful good. will wave other drivers on forever.

got into an accident on his bike once. bitch broke his arm and he just kept on smiling.  “ no you have a nice day! and uh.... hey. mind if we like... call an ambulance? ”

low key feels like he’s the reason his parents’ marriage crumbled. low key guilty about it. low key wonders if maybe he lived up to his father’s expectations, he might have saved them a lot of grief.

give benny goodman by saint motel a listen and tell me that’s not his soul in audio form.

known for slightly hyperbolic storytelling.

pansexual as heck. falls in love. hard. it’s a mess. he can’t hide it. hence the shades.

he has brilliant hair. and it’s immortalized in his high school yearbook.

is hellbent on being a source of positivity in this terrible situation. can he interest you in a meme in these trying times? how ‘bout a granola bar? maybe a good ole game of mash?

he’s convinced this is an elaborate prank. or a social experiment. maybe aliens. but let’s not question it too much, let’s just.... have a good time? hakuna matata? no worries? lol where the twizzlers at?!

leaves a voicemail for his mother every morning and every night. maybe he cries. maybe.

he has one ear pierced because like.......... senior year of high school, he wanted to feel more cool.

allergic to mushrooms, shellfish, eggs, and harbingers of doom.

he truly boggles minds. just.... v out there? v spacey. he closes his eyes and drifts about on stage, fingers dancing on the keys, body moving in eclectic ways. he says “groovy” and fuckin’ means it. he dresses in prints inspired by grandma’s carpet. lots of half-buttoned flowy shirts, boots, tailored statement pants, dangly necklaces. he’s got his hands full of rings –– they symbolize milestones. and some are just, like... pretty. and one’s his mother’s old wedding band.

where the hell are my friends !  ( wanted connectz. )

i was gonna do a whole section on this and got lazy but like.... anything. all the things. good, bad, ugly, beautiful. hurt him. make him suffer. but also support him a bit.

i imagine he’s got a solid squad goin’. he’s in faction one too, so... hmu for those.

i feel like he’d be pretty chill with the greeks? yeah bro, he parties. he’ll chill. he’ll crack open a cold one and pretend to understand what those letters on your jacket mean! pie-apple-fate-uh? cool stuff !

ride or dies. pls.

he needs someone to like....... melt his heart. maybe someone unexpected.

thisssss got long & disorganized but yes! let’s plot! let’s do this thang! #hype!!

[snowy-charm]

A Treatise on Charm, Snowy

(TL;DR warning: This post is kinda long. The quick version is that I’m gonna make music now! Next post will be one of said musics. The rest of this post goes over the story of why I’m doing it. Also I use a meme twice and link some rad music three times.)

The year: 2017. October. I was given the name “Snowy Charm” as a fun pony name to facilitate a secret santa exchange online. Even though I’d been a fan of these little horses since ~2012 I’d never delved into the world of having one to call my own. I was more than satisfied bearing witness to the growing cast of canon characters - and of course my hot and heavy courting with the cast of Fallout: Equestria. (Side note to anyone who may be reading this: FoE is pretty dope, but it is also the essence of grimdark. Read at your own risk!)

Suddenly at odds with this new OC acquisition, I quickly came up with a fast and loose backstory! He was a crystal pony from the wintery crystal kingdom (”Snowy”) and was probably an artificer or craftsman of some kind (”Charm”). I joked that the reason behind my name is that I live in a snowy climate (read: the tropics) and I was quite charming (the jury is still out on that one). 

The following year was my first ever convention: BronyCon 2018! An artist friend of mine graciously designed my OC with little to no input on my part and came up with a design that I instantly fell in love with.

(Pictured here subtly in front of a rack-mounted EQ I have never used, but is appropriate for an upcoming revelation.)

Isn’t he ADORABLE?! I will forever wear that badge because it is awesome. The cutie mark has been redone a little since then, and no other artist has remembered his beard yet, but I digress; this story isn’t actually about him.

Of course, BronyCon was a blast! This became my impetus to be more than simply an observer in the fandom, but to be present and belonging with others through our communal enjoyment of My Little Pony. My friends, in general, had a disinterest of the show - which, you know what? That’s fair. I don’t particularly care for Game of Thrones, Desperate Housewives, or the DCU, and it would be hard for me to feign a genuine interest in the developments thereof - but as of BronyCon I was able to play on an even field with others who shared my same passion for these candy colored equines!

Now, another thing to note of me, which will be important in a moment: I’m slightly musical. Not amazingly talented or anything, just.. slightly musical. I was REALLY into marching band (and won the John Philip Sousa award my senior year!!), but stopped refining my craft during college and onwards. Turns out playing a $5000 instrument puts a damper on your ability to own one. (Here’s a second video, and a third; I freakin love marimba.) I picked up the Ukulele for the the occasional “BUT YOU LIKE TO MAKE MUSIC” urges, but more or less ignored actually honing my abilities.

But now that I found myself surrounded by the magic of friendship combined with the magic of ponies, I wanted to CREATE. I suddenly realized that Snowy Charm was to be a MUSIC PONE. I would make FANDOM HITS that nopony had ever HEARD BEFORE (or after - I didn’t/don’t expect to be horse famous [or really even horse known (triple parenthetical asides are super cool, by the way)]).

Aaaaand promptly realized I had the better part of a decade’s worth of rust hanging onto my high-school-level skills. Not to mention that I still didn’t own the only thing I was good at playing.

F

“Okay, okay, it’s fine. Don’t hyperventilate, self. We’ll just make this into a project about growth in music instead.” 

- Me to myself circa the realization I can only really play a single instrument, and not even well.

I decided to make the project about my journey in the music field instead of pumping out dope jams. The goal was to lay out where I was musically and pick a song each week. I’d then practice that song all week and post a recording of my warbly self performing it by week’s end. Pick up a new instrument here, learn a new software there. Maybe I’d do originals now and again, but likely I’d just scream into the void and wait for it to call me back.

Of course, the dope jams would (hopefully) come, but as Jake says:

Long story short on that one: I didn’t.

Be it procrastination or a busy schedule, I can’t really defend my past self’s choice at this point. I made all the social media accounts and sturdied myself to make the first bellow into the abyss --- but then silence rung out. (Of note, I got my twitter anniversary notice today, so it has been exactly a year from my first tentative steps.)

Flash forward a couple months - October once more. My little festive community starts up again! More fun names are given out and lore starts being woven together about these new OCs! The stories start coming quick: There’s a stallion who HATES CRANBERRIES and one who makes bomb smoothies! A diamond dog who wants to celebrate Hearth’s Warming but is the target of seemingly the entire diamond dog population’s scorn! There’s a whole school filled with students, teachers, and a will-they-won’t-they janitor/counselor combo! Snowy now owns a potion shop specializing in musical applications, not to mention somehow he’s now the ambassador to those diamond dogs! But then, unexpectedly, on the day she was supposed to return from the hospital, my mother passed away.

I had recently lost my job and moved into my folk’s home out of town. Unemployed, isolated from friends, and yeeted into the throes of grief; I did all I really could: I picked up my dumb noise stick and sang about life, love, death, and colorful talking horses.

I made my first honest-to-goodness song - Drink In - during that period. It’s about that on-again-off-again pair I introduced earlier, but it was also about my grief and healing. I’ll share some of the lyrics here that, after I wrote them, spoke to me as if I didn’t pen them my damn self:

Take a deep breath Exhale regret Drink in sunsets The best is what’s left

It may not hit you the same way as it did me, music is often subjective, but it was an imperative reminder to let go of the stress I was compounding inside of me. I needed to hear that message badly - and put a pin in that, I’ll loop back to it in a moment.

I started working to better my craft again. I helped mix/master the album that my little festive family put together. I borrowed a bass guitar from a friend and started learning a little. I even got employed to do live mixing at the church I attend! Little by little I was getting better. 

But let’s fast forward again, shall we? This time to August of this year, BronyCon 2019! One of the best times I’ve ever had, but that’s not the point (maybe I’ll go into it in a later post?). I came home invigorated and ready to face the world again after being exhausted for almost five months straight. I felt free from burdens and there was something on my mind that hadn’t been there for a long time: I was ready to CREATE. 

If you were at the con, or if you’ve been on twitter recently, this next refrain may strike you as familiar:

(Patch done by @sew-adorkable)

I knew I had to make a song about it, but I had to make it good enough to be heard by folk. It had to be perfect before I could release it and have guitars and electronic music stuff and all the bells and/or whistles. I have a launchpad, unused, from last year - so I plugged it in with Ableton Live so I could make them funky horse beatz (with a z of course, because that’s 20% cooler).

Aaaaand promptly realized I was way out of my depth. 

I’ve recorded live performances (and myself) with Reaper and Audition before, and I feel like I know at least some of the basics with them. I can put a vocal into compression, mix the instruments okay together, do some EQing, etc. But I was now adrift trying to get the computer to make sounds that I wasn’t able to do myself.

I couldn’t figure out how to put anything other than the default synth into reaper and I opened Ableton because that’s better for electronic music I hear and I want to learn how to do that and they don’t even have a timeline and use clips and what are clips and how do you make them and what are samples and how do you get them and how do I even record a voice in this thing and there’s not a TIMELINE and when you stop the noise the session isn’t stopped and the launchpad won’t work and I went back to reaper and they have a drum sampler and how do you get a sample and how do you install things and is this my personal hell and I understand this is a run on sentence - I was frustrated and I quit.

Remember the pin I told you to put in earlier? Refresh that into memory, here’s where it’s relevant.

About two weeks after this whole debacle I was listening to shuffle all on my phone and Drink In happened to come on. I remembered how the completely unintentional message of my own song really struck me a year prior. This stupid song about a pair of pony OCs with terribly played ukulele and shitty bargain bin percussion recorded with a mic not suited to record anything except vocals... and despite all that, despite all of the technical barriers that were in the way, despite clipping during recording ukulele and hearing the distortion every time I listen to the track, it helped me restore tranquility when my inner world was naught but a maelstrom of grief and tumult. 

...I guess it didn’t have to be perfect to reach folks. Who knew?

And that right there is the moral I’m learning today. I struggle with it a lot, but there’s a problem with perfection: allow yourself only to produce perfection and you’ll produce nothing. I mean it’s a well known quote, right? Nobody’s perfect. 

So, I apologize in advance to all people with ears, but it is now my intention to bring (hopefully) pleasant noises to the grandiose cacophony that is the internet. They won’t be perfect, but I’ll work on it.

Anyway, come to TrotCon.

(Art by Witchtaunter, Flitterfel, and Mentita Kirby)

P.S. Holy bananas you actually read this monster of a post? Give yourself a pat on the back! Future posts likely won’t be as herculean of a read, but no promises. Next time I’ll actually upload “Drink In” so you can hear this song I’ve referenced so much - and then I’ll talk about where I’m at mechanically and the goals I have by doing this whole thing. Oh, and don’t expect all the neat art to happen every post! I went a little YCH/commission crazy after I got back from BronyCon, but I’m also not made out money so it won’t last forever. I don’t expect really anybody to read a huge post ostensibly about someone’s OC, and even the lifetime of this project I expect less or equal to about 10 people, but I hope you find a sense of belonging and participation here! Hello to all 10 of you!

See y’all next time!

[the-poutine-routine]

Hello, coach-change anon again:) Turns out I don't have just two questions. Here goes: 1) What's the implication of Carreira/Ponomarenko moving up to seniors? Competitive pool outlook? 2) What's the implication of the Knierim going to be coached by Aljona Savchenko? Your thoughts about her going into coaching? 3) Original source for Scott's "Umbrellas" quote? The "naive kids..." one :) 4) What program was that Scott referenced in the show, the "a lot of passion/what were parents thinking" THANKS

This was another doozy of a reply, and for that I apologize. But I pretty much just try to answer all the questions above. Prettyyyyy fun stuffff :))) #I’m getting worse at this #CLICKBAIT stuff.  

Hi again coach change anon! (finally, sorry for the hold up)

I’m just going to go through your questions in order because I feel like that’s easiest for both of us :)

Ok so Christina and Anthony, my sweet sweet children (who aren’t that much younger than me, so I’m just making this weird now). I am super proud of them and think that they are totally ready to move up to senior. They are still somewhat young, but given their accomplishments from this past season, I feel like moving up to senior’s probably a better choice than just sitting around in junior and being almost guaranteed to win everything. HOWEVER, this doesn’t mean that it’s going to be a smooth ride to the top for them. The US ice dance field is very deep, and has been for at least the past 10 years. Even with the shibs taking a season off, we already have our top 3 teams: JLB and KHaw, Bock, and HD, all of whom are training at the same rink with the same coaches, so it will be interesting to see how that plays out. (quick tangent, but I sort of thought Madi and Evan were going to retire which would have opened up another top US dance spot, but I was wrong. Womp womp.) Furthermore, there are the teams who moved up to senior more recently (the Parsons, Carpenter and McNamara) who are pretty much just chilling and waiting for the already established teams to retire so that they can grab those top spots. Although it’s great that the US consistently has such excellent ice dance teams, this kind of creates a traffic jam of sorts that can be stunting to the development of the newer seniors. For example, if we look at Kaitlin and Jean Luc, they have been skating together for a little while and have been consistently in that 4th/5th place spot among the US teams for several years now. Although they are an absolutely fantastic team (I got to see them live about a month ago, that Austin Powers program was very high quality. A+.), by the time they have gotten to the place that they are now of being this “great new up and coming team”, they are already the same ages as the top teams from other countries like Papadakis and Cizeron. To make a long story short, although I am very excited for Christina and Anthony to be making this next step in their career, I also am a little nervous that they will get stuck waiting for the older teams to retire before they can move to the top. On the bright side, however, it seems that these two already have a bit more stacked résumé as well as a pretty loyal fan base as juniors, than many of the other up-and-coming US teams. I think that many people (including myself) see a lot of potential in them, and given the right amount of training and dedication, I fully believe that they may be able to surpass many of the other US teams who are already competing at the senior level. BUT, these are all just my takes and opinions, and I in no way am going to claim that I am an all-knowing ice dance god, or that I can predict the future of the sport. So really we’ll just have to wait and see how things play out.

I’m going to preface this by saying that I’m really not a huge pairs person. That being said, sure I’m supportive of the coaching change. I honestly did think that the Knierims were going to retire this year. Watching them skate, Chris especially kind of looked like he was ready to be done. Hopefully Aljona will maybe be able to restore some of that energy and passion for the sport into their skating (but again, I don’t really know all that much about them so I could be completely off base). I think a natural next step for a lot of skaters is to begin coaching. I’m happy that Aljona is choosing to stick around and contribute to the sport especially considered what a legendary pairs skater she is. I think it might actually be beneficial to all parties involved that Aljona won’t be taking any time off before jumping into coaching (although for god’s sake the girl at least deserves a nap or something) as she will have a very current take on how the sport works - simply from having competed just last season - which is not an advantage that all coaches have. 

So that quote as said by Scottifer…“We were seventeen and nineteen at the time, so it was easy for us to portray these characters because it was sort of what we were: naïve kids who could fall in love.”…is on page 90 of their book (yes, I looked it up, I actually have a terrible memory for this sort of thing). I, unfortunately do not the own the book, but google books does! And it can be found here. 

After a bit of research, I actually couldn’t find any information about the program itself. I know that it was the free dance from the 2002-2003 season, that it was their first year competing at junior, and that they got 7th at nationals. However, because (I think???), they didn’t compete internationally, there is pretty much no information on the program itself, nor could I find any videos (sorry).If you do want to see the clip from the show with Scott talking about the photo, you can find the link to the episode here. The entire costume fitting clip starts at about 18:10, and includes some other favorites such as “KAPOW” (at 19:00). The actual “That’s a lot of passion…” quote is at about 18:30.

Sorry I couldn’t be 100% helpful for all of your questions, but nonetheless, YOU’RE WELCOME. And thank you for valuing my ranting enough to continue coming back, anon!

:)