#okay but seriously do guitars exist in the canon? I NEED TO KNOW

[safewarmbubbly]

OH MY GOSH MY EXCITEMENT FOR THESE QUESTIONS!!!!

My boys Theseus and Warren both play instruments ^^ 

Theseus is a human noble and he learned how to play the piano and the harpsichord, as well as the lute (/guitar??) to be able to entertain guests from a young age, he had music lessons twice a week and enjoyed just cracking his knuckles before taking over a piano at a local tavern for fun.

Warren, my sylvari guy, got fascinated with music and the lute (/guitar? guys idk if guitars truly exist in gw2 but I want them to fjfjjf) after he saw a traveler playing one at a camp he stayed at, so decided he’d try it, and he actually took to it very well. He learned on his own for a few years until he moved into Theseus��s estate (there’s lore reasons but I’m just not getting into that yet), then Theseus taught him some more and they’d play alongside each other.

During HoT I’d say Warren’s lute got smashed when he fell from a Pact ship :( sad times.

I’d say Theseus and Warren have alright singing skills, they’re average but they sound nice enough, Cynthia can’t sing the best, but she can hum a tune and sing along to a song at a tavern. She’s been practicing some singing but y’know, mostly off saving the world and all that jazz.

Thalia is definitely the one out of all my characters to sing like an angel, she’s actually in the entertainment business after being in the circus for a mission, she travels and sings at bars, dances and uses her mesmer skills to make it a complete dazzling show.

These are good questions thank you I love you :D

GW2 music question time!

Which of your characters are great dancers?

Which of your characters sing really well?

Which of you characters play instruments? What instruments?

Tell me about your characters' music talents \^o^/

[youreyeslookliketheocean]

youreyeslookliketheocean’s DSMP Fic Recs!!

Figured it was about time for one of these... :)

Mostly SBI-centric because they’re my favorite dynamic. I’ll probably add to this list as time goes on, and I also want to go back through my ao3 history and find some lesser-known fics I really enjoyed to rec them all. But for now...

* oneshot  ** unfinished work

** the lights go out (my heart goes still) by curseworm

With his old home unwelcoming and his new one gone, Tommy is alone. After hours of staggering through the freezing snow, he finds a cabin.

Technoblade’s cabin.

He hides himself away in the deepest corner he can find, taking only what he needs to survive, wasting away in the cold and the dark. He’s petrified at the thought of being found out, terrified of what he thinks Techno would do to him.

When Techno finds his injured teenage brother huddled in a filthy little cave beneath his basement, the rage he feels is immeasurable. The voices demand blood, and blood he will give them. Dream won’t be getting away with this one.

(On the other side of the world, in a country that floats on a man-made lake, Philza gets himself in a bit of a pickle.) 

** The hearth down under by Crystalquill

A tiny change gives Tommy the courage to flee to the Nether instead of the cold tundra, finding an unlikely ally in the midst of a fiery hellscape.

But tiny changes can alter the course of history. The SMP will never be the same.

(Lots of cool Nether worldbuilding in this one!!)

to be a wanderer, wandering by hydrangeasheart

Tommy's feet drag in the snow.

It's so, so cold. He's so cold. His toes are freezing. His exposed shins feel like they’ve been cut open-- even the one that’s bandaged. His wings have gone numb, which is almost, almost good, because now he can’t feel the shifting, broken bones inside of the left one, just under feathers and muscle.

He doesn’t know why he’s still walking.

-

Or, Tommy leaves the exploded ruins of Logstedshire behind, and walks until he finds somewhere safe.

And things keep going from there.

(A canon-divergent AU, splitting off somewhere around when Tommy started hiding out below Techno's house.)

that’s, like, a hundred miles by No_one_you_know (and then “as long as i’m here”, and “he’s my brother, i just raise him”)

Dream would kill him. Dream was going to kill him- he was going to- no, he wouldn’t. Dream was his friend- friends don’t hit each other- Dream was supposed to take care of him- Dream /was/ taking care of him.

It hurt to breathe. It hurt to think. He couldn’t clear his thoughts as he stumbled to the family computer, pulling up a tab on google and frantically typing the name into the search bar.

The words Technoblade Watson stared back at him, the little black bar at the end of the letters blinking slowly, mocking him.

Why, of all people, did it have to be Technoblade?

in short: the one where dream sucks as a parental figure, tommy runs away, and visits his least favorite family member technoblade.

passerine by thcscus(blujamas)

Do I really need to put the summary here? Pretty much everyone knows this fic. Also, though, if you enjoy this one you should totally read thcscus’ connected fic, “shrike”!! It’s only at 2 chapters right now but it’s already really good and has this dark, foresty aesthetic I love...

not with a bang but with a whimper by dip_dyed_ghost

He knows Tubbo doesn’t care about him anymore. He knows that. He’s been shown that. But it doesn’t stop Tommy from caring about him. He brushes the pads of his fingers over the compass’s glass and wonders how he’s doing, if he’s tired of it all yet, if he needs help. He watches the way it points strongly in the direction over the ocean. He hopes he’s alright.

Even after everything, he hopes he’s alright.

During his exile, Tommy finds a drugged and hurt Tubbo on his doorstep. He can’t not help him.  

(This one has a neat take on potions, in my opinion. Also it’s only 4 chapters so it’s a quick read!)

take this compass, follow it home by lightning_anon

Tommy's a fuck up, he can't pay attention, and never sits still. He taps his hands, pushes people away, and has never had a best friend. He's a screwed up, forgotten kid lost in the foster system. He's also just been placed with a new family. Tommy knows how this goes, he never ends up staying long. After all, no one wants a fuck up like him.

Why would this house be any different?

Or: the obligatory sleepy bois foster fic, but with a focus on the neurodivergent kids that inevitably get lost in the system.

(Genuinely want to see more books like this in original fiction. It’s part of what inspired my newest og wip, “To Build a Home.” So sweet and I feel like I had my eyes opened to some neurodivergent tendencies I never knew existed. I read this in a day and can’t rec it enough.)

bloodlines by youreyeslookliketheocean

Tommy’s an orphan on the run from his previous guardian. Philza’s a king who prides himself on keeping his kingdom in an era of peace. Wilbur’s the crown prince, and Techno’s right beside him as his adopted brother. When Phil’s kingdom of Pogtopia is threatened by the bloodvines—a strange, brainwashing plant infecting many of the surrounding kingdoms—the four must work together to keep the kingdom, and their family, safe. --- A royal au sbi fic... + the bloodvines, for spice.

(Yes I’m self-promoting. But, in my defense, I’m very proud of it. If you checked it out it would mean the world to me :’))

Heat Waves by tbhyourelame

Dream has always held a gentle admiration for George, but when their nuanced friendship trickles into his sleeping mind, he awakens to a new world of conflicting emotions and longing. Lost in the midst of a heat wave, he continuously listens to a song that works itself in to the very core of his heartache. Floridian nights, unsent messages, spiraling infatuation, and terrible, terrible weather.

Another fic I think pretty much everyone knows about. Listen, listen... I was once an idiot who said “Oh no, I’ll never read Heat Waves. It’s irl, not characters, and it’s probably cringe”... No. I was so wrong. This fic is wonderfully written, with a pretty quick moving plot and great characterizations. You do need an ao3 account to access it, though. Just to let you know. (Also read “Helium”, unfinished and hasn’t updated in awhile, but it’s the continuation). 

Guitar Strings and Keyrings are What it Takes to Build a Home by Anonymous

Techno was adopted by Phil when he was 12 years old.

He'd been enjoying his morning before Phil came to him asking if he would mind them taking in another kid. Against his better judgement, Techno agrees and ends up with two new foster brothers who he was determined to not get attached to, no matter what.

Tommyinnit’s unbeatable method of avoiding sudden death by eneliii

“I uh,” Tommy starts, not knowing how to break this to the hero lightly. He hates to be the bearer of bad news. “I think your powers are broken? It’s not a bad thing of course, but like, I swear you tried to mind control me and it like, totally failed. Which is fine, honestly, don’t feel insecure. Everyone’s power stop working sometimes… I think.”

Sheesh, this is very awkward. Why is no one else talking? Why is Philza looking at him like he grew three heads? Why is the Blade staring at him so intensely? Why is Willow still frozen?

“Did I, did I hit a nerve? Yikes,” Tommy hisses, “Well um,” He steps back, bracing his legs and bending his knees, “This was like super fun, but I’m - I’mma head out.”

or,

in which Tommy manages to annoy the hell out of Phil, Techno and Wilbur by being both impossible to catch and irritatingly endearing.

or or,

a crack fic where Tommy is a vigilante and Phil, Techno and Wilbur are the heroes hunting him down.

(Feel like I am obligated to say how incredibly funny this fic is. Seriously. I have a distinct memory of sitting on my neighborhood park’s swing, giggling hysterically, while reading this. Well...until the end... but we won’t get into that...)

** bones in the ocean by bunflower

“Your reputation precedes you, y’know.”

“Does it, now?” Philza watches him coyly from where he’s now leaning against the wall, arms folded around his chains and gaze half-lidded, his lips curled in an arrogant, cat-like smirk.

“The Angel of Death, the ferryman of the Styx, the terror of the western seas. One of the most feared captains ever to sail, and yet, I have to wonder… how did a man like you end up all on his own? We searched the area where you were found—not another soul in sight. So,” He fixes him with a long look, allowing the silence to hover like a dark cloud, the words rolling off of his tongue with all the venom and smugness he can muster, “—tell me, Philza. Where is your crew?”

OR: Technoblade is a naval captain, and Phil his unwilling prisoner. Somehow, they manage to come out of it as friends in the end.

(Is this fic considered popular like passerine/Heat Waves now? Cause I feel like it’s reputation precedes itself, at this point... Pirate au.)

****

Okay! That’s it for now. Like I said, though, I want to add to this over time and also dig back for some older things I’ve read. Also, if you have any recs feel free to send them in! I’m about to go back to school and therefore might not have time for reading fun stuff, but whenever I get the chance I’d love to check them out!!!

Happy Reading!!

[jennycalendar]

not posting this to ao3 bc the convoluted context only exists on tumblr, but here’s a mini thing i wrote today from that au where oz is dating giles and jenny’s daughter. also giles and jenny were in a band together pre-canon for a little while and have a very convoluted love story that i swear will eventually be a fic. fun times.

other things pre-fic that are fun:

ripper and jenny spent like a decade in la co-running a music store together while also raising their kids. jenny handled the actual business, ripper taught guitar classes on the side. janna is very musically gifted but teddy can’t carry a tune to save her life.

theoretically this is a version of canon where janna and buffy are the same age, and someday i will also write the fic where janna appoints herself buffy’s watcher, kicks wesley in the knees, and screams at every member of the council that comes near buffy. she’s heard enough horror stories from her dad.

“Are you nervous?”

The question took Oz by surprise. “Should I be?”

Janna didn’t answer. When he turned to look at her, he saw that she was looking out the window at what he assumed was their final destination: a relatively ordinary-looking house with the beginnings of a vegetable garden on the front lawn. “The last time I brought a guy home to meet my parents, he was super nervous,” she said. “Like, all spacey and weird. My dad was extra nice to him to compensate, but my mom kinda antagonized him a little ‘cause she thought it was funny. She probably won’t do that to you, though. I bet she’ll like you. I mean, she likes pretty much all my friends that I actually care about, and last time I brought a guy home I didn’t actually like him. Mostly it was just to show up Teddy ‘cause she’s always giving me grief about—”

Abruptly, Oz understood. Without a word, he gently tugged Janna’s clenched fists into his own hands, untangling the tightly coiled fingers to lace them with his own.

Janna exhaled. Shakily, she said, “I just really want them to like you.”

“I know,” said Oz.

“I mean really. Usually I don’t care a whole bunch, but you’re different.”

“I know,” said Oz.

“And sometimes my mom can be a little mean. Not like mean-mean, she’s just like that, it’s her way of being nice—”

Oz tugged on Janna’s hands, pulling her into a careful hug. Janna let out a nervous laugh and pressed a clumsy kiss just under his jaw. “I’m a pretty easy guy to like,” he said. “Unless your parents are the kind that don’t like it when a guy is in a band.”

“That would be totally hypocritical,” said Janna. “They were in a band.”

Processing this, Oz felt a slow smile sneak across his face. “So it’s genetic?”

Janna blinked, then smiled too. “Kinda, yeah! They ran a music store in LA till we moved. My dad’s the one who taught me how to play guitar and sing and stuff. He’s not classically trained or anything, but he takes it super seriously.”

“Your dad sounds pretty cool,” said Oz.

“He is pretty cool,” said Janna, her smile growing.

Gently, Oz tugged on Janna’s hand, then let go to open his door and get out of the car. He crossed around to open the door for her too, extending a hand to help her out. She laughed, letting him pull her out of the car, and tripped very purposefully to fall for a moment against his chest; he nudged the car door shut behind her and tugged her into a hug. “We got this, Jay,” he said, smoothing down her hair.

Though she was still very clearly nervous, Janna nodded, tucking her arm into his as they walked up the driveway. Oz rang the doorbell.

Thudding footsteps came from inside the house. Janna groaned. “Oh, no,” she muttered under her breath.

“Is this the boyfriend?” demanded a voice as the door was wrenched open. Looking down, Oz saw a small girl of about twelve surveying the two of them with interest. “I thought he’d be taller. How come he’s shorter than you? Why—”

“I am gonna punt you into next Tuesday, Teddy,” Janna threatened.

“Oh, this is Theodora?” said Oz with interest. “Pleasure.”

“At least someone has manners,” said Teddy with great dignity, turning on her heel and striding down the hall.

“Aren’t you gonna invite us in?” Janna yelled after her.

“Nope!” Teddy yelled back. “You’re probably vampires!”

“Someday I’m gonna kick her like a soccer ball and no one will ever see her again,” Janna was muttering as she yanked Oz over the threshold, roughly divesting him of his coat to hang it on a nearby coat tree. “I used to play soccer in middle school and I think I still know how to do it. Maybe I can get Buffy to do it. I bet if I kicked her really hard—”

“No kicking your sister,” came a very familiar voice.

If Oz was the kind of person whose jaw dropped, he thought it might have right then. Standing in the kitchen doorway was none other than Jenny Calendar, the original drummer for the Spitfires—the one who had toured with the band for two years before she and the lead guitarist dropped out to raise a kid. Jenny Calendar was looking between the two of them with an intrigued grin. Oz had a record with this lady’s face on it. “Uh,” he said. “What?”

“What?” said Janna, as though this was just a normal meeting between Oz and his girlfriend’s mom. “Anyway, mom, this is Oz. Oz, this is my mom, she—”

“I know who she is,” said Oz.

“Well, duh, I just told you,” said Janna. “Where’s Dad? Is he upstairs dissecting bug things for Buffy again?”

“Yeah, that was one time and I told them both they’re never doing that again. That’s my job in this house.” Jenny ruffled Janna’s hair. “Glad nothing ate you on your way here.”

“If it does, you gotta make a necklace out of my bones or something metal like that,” said Janna very seriously.

“God, you’re just like your dad,” said Jenny.

“Oh, yeah, it’s me she gets it from,” quipped Ripper, rounding the corner with Teddy on his shoulders. “Not like anyone else in this house was violent and terrifying at fifteen.”

“Okay, one, shut up. Two, no one needs to hear any of those stories. Three, shut up.” Jenny punched Ripper’s shoulder, careful to avoid jostling Teddy.

Oz was thankfully a little bit more prepared for Ripper’s entrance. If the Spitfires’ drummer was Janna’s mom, the lead guitarist pretty much had to be her dad. “Uh, hey, Janna,” he said, tugging at his girlfriend’s sleeve, “can we—talk outside for a sec?”

Janna looked a little puzzled, but acquiesced without much argument.

Shutting the door behind them, Oz said, “Your parents are Jenny and Ripper.”

“Huh?” said Janna, then, “Oh,” and then her face split open in a huge smile. “I didn’t know you knew about them! Pretty much nobody does! They left the Spitfires before the band got big, so it’s not like I bring it up a lot—”

“Okay, this makes so much sense,” said Oz.

Janna blinked. “What do you mean?”

“Your whole,” Oz waved a hand, “cool thing. It’s not just you, it’s genetic.” He grinned. “I don’t think I stood a chance.”

Janna went very pink, her smile impossibly bright. “You totally have to tell them you like their stuff,” she said. “Dad’s kinda mellow about it, but Mom has these insane stories from the years before she and Dad hooked up and she loves telling people about them.”

“Well, I’d love to hear your mom’s cool band stories,” said Oz, squeezing Janna’s hand. “Probably have a few of our own to share, right?”

“I mean, I’ve told them most of my good ones,” said Janna. “Remember that one time I broke a guitar over Devon’s head?”

“Fondly,” said Oz.

Janna snickered. “Dad’s done worse,” she said. “He was in Wretched for a little while. It was more of a Brit thing so you probably haven’t heard of it, but we have a demo album that they made and it’s soooo bad—”

“Mom wants to know when you’re coming in for dinner!” Teddy yelled from inside the house.

“IN A MINUTE!” Janna yelled back.

“We could go in now,” Oz suggested, “if you—”

Draping her arms around his neck, Janna said, “Give me a minute, Daniel.”

 ~~~

“Oh my god, I love him,” said Jenny delightedly. “Rupert, he knows our stuff! Does anyone ever know our stuff?”

“Janna’s last one didn’t,” said Ripper, attempting to take a forkful of casserole off his wife’s plate. Jenny whacked his fork with her knife. “Though I do think our darling Teddy psychologically broke the poor chap halfway through dessert.”

“If he was weak enough to be broken by a fifth-grader, he deserved to start crying,” said Teddy mildly. “It’s just facts.”

“She gets the mean streak from me,” said Jenny affectionately, looking at Teddy with adoring pride. “Mama’s girl.”

“They both get the mean streak from you,” said Ripper. Jenny started throwing wadded-up paper towels at him. “See?” he said, catching one of them and lobbing it back in his wife’s direction. “This. This is what I mean.”

“Your family is cool,” said Oz. “My mom’s gonna have a lot to measure up to.”

“Oh god I have to meet your mom?” squeaked Janna. “No one’s ever wanted me to meet their mom! Oh my god, you didn’t—why would I—”

“You know she’s never been this nervous about anyone she’s dated?” said Teddy conspiratorially to Oz. “I think she really likes you. Plus she writes your names together all the time on the fogged-up mirror in the bathroom and she made you a mixtape but she’s too scared to give it—”

“I’m gonna throw you out a goddamn window,” Janna hissed in Teddy���s direction. “You better believe I will.”

“Oz, you’re in a band, yeah?” said Ripper, giving Oz a little grin. “Might be nice to play sometime together, if you’d like.”

“Yeah, I would,” said Oz, and smiled back.

[nubianamy]

35k, PG, Finn/Sam, pre-slash, pre-canon, camp, series, drama

from chapter 3

Every time Finn and Sam were around the campfire after that, Finn encouraged him to sing. Sometimes it was with Aggie’s borrowed guitar, and sometimes it was just him, without any accompaniment. Sam had a strong, melodic voice, and it didn’t really need the guitar, but Finn noticed he was louder and more confident when he was strumming along, and that was great to witness.

One evening, after most of the guys had gone back to their cabins and Finn and Sam were there tending the dying fire, Sam turned to him curiously. “How come you never sing by yourself? I mean, I would play anything you wanted to sing.”

“I don’t sing,” Finn shook his head perhaps a little too quickly, “that’s kind of the rule me and Puck have. Like, he’s the front man for the band, and I get to do the harmonies and stuff when we mess around.”

Sam seemed to accept that at face value, which suited Finn just fine, even if it involved throwing Puck under the bus with the implication that Puck had decided on the rule. When really, it was because whenever Finn had taken lead vocals, he’d managed to almost put the beater through the kick drum, he got so tense.

“The thing is, I can barely hear you when I’m singing,” Sam said, poking the fire with a long stick. “I’m kind of loud in my own ears, if you know what I mean. But what I can hear sounds really good.”

He smiled over his shoulder at Finn, not teasing, not waiting for Finn to say something, just because that was how Sam was. Being next to him, watching him smile like that, gave Finn courage. He took a deep breath. “I, uh… I used to sing all the time, when I was a kid. My mom had all these cassette tapes, and we’d play and sing in the kitchen and in the car. And she dated this guy, Darren. He always said I should be a singer when I grew up.”

“Sounds like he was really supportive.” Sam turned so he was facing Finn, digging the stick into the ground so he could lean against it, “What about your mom? Did she... not like it?” He quickly added, “I just... you don’t sing anymore, so I assume someone convinced you not to, or something.”

“Nobody,” Finn said, shrugging. “I mean, nobody in particular. You know how guys are. It just stopped being cool to do stuff like that. Like playing video games or reading comics. Me and Puck, we still do those things together, but… we don’t tell anybody? That would kind of be the death of our popularity, and Quinn, she thinks that’s really important.”

Sam nodded slowly, and in the darkness and the firelight it was hard to read much of his expression, “I guess people don’t do a lot of things they want to do. But, everyone here likes the singing. And I definitely do, and I like comic books and video games, so you already know I’m super lame.” He reached forward to nudge Finn’s knee with his fingers as Finn chuckled. “If you ever wanted to try with me, that’d be cool.”

“Try singing? I mean, we’ve done that lots.” Finn gave him a nervous smile. “Maybe if nobody else was around, I would. If it was just us.”

Sam looked down at the log they were sitting on for a long moment before he looked back and smiled, “I mean, Sean’s always sneaking over to the cheerleading camp, right? You come and get me when you’re ready, and I’m happy to listen.”

It didn’t happen that night, or the night after that, but Finn thought about Sam’s suggestion a lot, maybe more than he should have. It was running through his mind pretty much all the time when he wasn’t focusing on something else. Which, unfortunately, seemed to be during a lot of the practices.

“Hudson! Are you planning on running at any point this morning!” Coach Tyler yelled, and Finn picked up the pace as he quickly as he could until he was next to Sean again.

“Look, dude,” Sean looked around and gave Finn a pointed look, “You need to focus.”

“I’m trying—”

“No, your mind’s somewhere else,” Sean reached over and tapped the side of his head with the back of his hand. “Listen, I get it. You’re not finding this challenging. But the QB boat has sailed, and you need to be giving this your all, okay? Now... What can I do to get your mind off whatever it’s on, and back on these plays? Because we’ve got our second game coming up, and if Lucas loses to Sam’s team? He’s gonna be fucking insufferable.”

“Seriously, it’s nothing. It’s just something between me and Sam.” Finn shook his head, “We haven’t had time to really work it out—”

“Great. Me and Aggie are gonna go smoke weed in another cabin tonight. So, you and Sam can pick a room and hash this all out, before I lose my patience with you, dweeb.”

Finn watched as Sean moved away and was about to move himself when there was a hand on his shoulder, stopping him dead. He winced, expecting to see Coach Tyler, but instead Lucas was looking at him with a very neutral expression. “You’re interested in being QB?”

“Kind of?” Finn tried to settle under Lucas’s gaze. He’d been friendly enough to him, but then he’d turn around and be terrible to Aggie. Finn didn’t trust him. “I mean, yeah, I’m interested, but… that’s your position, right? Yours and Sam’s?”

“It’s like saying the circus belongs to the ringmaster and the accordion-playing monkey,” Lucas rolled his eyes, and looked Finn up and down, “I’m not going to be playing next year, and I kind of like the idea of passing this on to someone. I mean, you’ve got shitty taste in friends, but...” He shrugged. “I’ll find you when I’m ready, Hudson.”

Finn watched him walk away, feeling much the same as he had when Darren told him he should be a singer. Seriously, if I had your voice, my group would still exist. Keep it up. He felt a shiver. It didn’t matter in that moment if Sam wanted to be QB or not. He pictured himself on the field, in the center of the team, calling the plays, catching the hike, passing the ball for the touchdown. It actually felt possible.

Maybe that was why, when Sam asked him at dinner, “So are we singing tonight by the fire?” Finn shook his head.

“Aggie and Sean are busy,” he said. “We can be alone in the cabin.”

“Oh.” Sam seemed to hesitate, causing the line of people waiting for food behind him to stop for a moment, before he quickly took a step forward again. “Yeah. Okay. Uh, your room or mine?”

“Whatever. Except our room has that chair with no arms. It might be easier for you to play guitar sitting there, instead of on the bed?”

“Isn’t that chair really uncomfortable?” Sam said, walking straight past the salad bar without stopping. “I mean, I’m fine with either. The chair sounds great. Just, if you want the bed instead, I can make that work.”

It turned out the evening was drizzly, anyway, so Finn didn’t feel so bad keeping Sam all to himself. Back in their cabin, however, Sam seemed restless, moving from one thing to another. Finn tried to give him space.

“You know, I think I’m going to go for a run,” Sam told him finally.

Finn raised an eyebrow as Sam stripped off his t-shirt. “In the rain?”

“Just a short one. It’ll make it easier for me to focus.” He backed toward the door in his undershirt. “I won’t be long.”

“You’re gonna get wet.” Finn said, but before he could try his argument for why Sam should sit down before he lost his nerve, Sam had vanished out of the door, his glasses abandoned on the side table. Finn stood by the door, watching Sam’s legs carry him around the lake trail until he was out of sight. Then he went through the bathroom into his and Sean’s room, dug his phone out of his jacket pocket, and dialed Puck’s number.

It went to voicemail once, but the second time Finn called, it clicked to life. “You have the worst timing, Hudson. I’m in the middle of something.” Puck sounded annoyed, but there was the sound of music playing softly in the background so he couldn’t be too busy, “Or, I mean, I’m about to be getting into something.”

“Dude, you could have let it go to—uh.” He laughed sheepishly. “Sorry. I’ll be quick. What’s a song you and I sing together that’s really good? I mean, really, really good. One that shows off a little.”

“How about...” Puck trailed off, and there was a noise in the background that sounded almost like a groan.

Let's talk about sex, baby Let's talk about you and me Let's talk about all the good things And the bad things that may be

“Not that,” Finn protested. “Dude, I’m not trying to get in anybody’s pants. What the hell. I’m talking good singing.”

“Why’re you singing to someone if you don’t want to get in their pants?” Puck scoffed. “Can I offer...”

Come out Virginia, don't let 'em wait You Catholic girls start much too late Aw but sooner or later it comes down to faith Oh I might as well be the one

Finn flung himself onto his bed, staring up at the ceiling. “No, no, Billy Joel is your range, not mine. Something higher.”

“So much for being quick about it. Sounds like the rumors about you aren’t exactly accurate.” He could hear a scuffling noise, and shushing and snorts of muffled laughter.

“Dude, who’s there with you?” Finn said suspiciously.

“Oh, this big, handsome, burly right guard. Yeah, we’re going at it pretty hot and heavy right now.” Puck sounded almost bored. “And, oh, yeah, there’s Mr. Ryerson coming through the door.”

“You really know how to make everything gross,” Finn said, grinning. “Okay, well, if you can’t think of anything, I’m going to have to default to Journey.”

“Do that Steve Perry single, the one from Straight Talk.” Puck hummed the chorus, and Finn sat up. “Can I hang up on you now, or do you have more stupid questions?”

“No, I think I’m good. Have fun… whatever you’re doing.”

“Looks like I might be doing some singing, actually.” Puck sounded amused. He added, to whoever was there, “You’re serious? Right now?”

Finn laughed. “I’m out of here. Whoever she is, good luck.”

He had to look up the lyrics to the song on his phone, not because he hadn’t sung it eight thousand times, but because he was sure he had been singing some of them wrong for years. Somehow it seemed important to get the lyrics right when he was singing for somebody else. Not that he was singing to Sam, or anything like that.

Actually, now that he was reading the lyrics, Finn decided he might want to have second thoughts about singing this particular song. It wasn’t because it was a love song, but it was kind of sad, and not exactly upbeat. But it was too late to call Puck back, and he wasn’t going to pick something else now.

There was the sound of footsteps on the stairs outside, and Finn sat up on the bed quickly, his phone almost bouncing on the mattress as it slipped from his hand. He had begun to swing his legs off, but the door opened with a very loud noise, and Sam stepped in, shaking out his hair.

“Paul wanted us to know that the hose for the sprinkler system is working again,” he said dryly, barely looking as he pulled at his undershirt that was soaked to his skin. “It came off and sprayed me, but he, very heroically...” he trailed off, his eyes finally falling on Finn who was resting back on his hands, his legs splayed wide. “Uh... are you... waiting for someone?”

“Me? No.” Finn straightened up, trying to figure out what to do with his hands. He rose to his feet, tripping over his shoes a little. “Who would I be… um. Can I get you, like, a towel or something?”

“I should get to the bathroom,” Sam gestured but his shoes squelched as he took a step, and Finn quickly shook his head.

“No way, you need to lose the shirt at least, man, before you get sick. You can borrow one of mine until you go next door.” He grabbed one of his big, comfy McKinley High athletics shirts from his drawer and held it out. “Just—sit there and take off your shoes. I’ll get you that towel.”

He ducked into the bathroom. The towels on the rack both smelled like feet, so he rummaged in the shelf above the sink until he found a clean one. It was a worn towel from Six Flags, the one with the picture of the roller coaster on it.

Finn brought it back into his room where Sam was sitting on the floor in a puddle, his soaking-wet undershirt in a pile next to one of his shoes. He was struggling to get the other one off. When Finn snickered, he shot him an exasperated look.

“It’s really hard to untie wet shoelaces,” he protested.

“Hey, I’m not saying anything,” Finn held up his hands with a grin.

He exchanged Sam’s wet undershirt for the dry towel, then took the shirt into the bathroom to drip dry. He couldn’t help but pause in the doorway, though, and glance back at Sam, who was contorting himself trying to get a better angle on the lace, until his foot was nearly over his head, as he got more and more frustrated.

“Here.” Finn knelt on the floor next to him, gesturing for Sam to put his foot back on the floor. “You’re just making it hard for yourself. Let me.”

Sam looked very unsure about this, but he let Finn tug at the heel of his shoe until it finally slid off his foot with a sloppy sound. It made them both snicker. When Finn presented him with the shoe, like it was a priceless gift, Sam laughed harder.

“Thanks.” Sam rolled his eyes. “For the towel, too. It’s been a pretty crappy evening so far. Maybe... I should just turn in.”

“You think it’s going to get any better if Aggie gets home and sees you’re asleep?” Finn joked lightly, “I bet he’d put your hand in warm water just on principle. Come on, why don’t we just... hang out. I’ve got this dumb book I’m supposed to read for my classes next year, I’m sure you could do some sketching or something, right?”

That made Sam brighten a little. “Yeah, that sounds pretty good.”

It didn’t take long for the two of them to get comfortable, but the separate beds felt like way too far away to Finn’s mind. He pulled the blanket off the bed, and made himself a little half-nest on the ground, his back to the drawers. Sam spread out on the mattress, not physically, but between the sketchpad, a small pile of comic books, and the guitar resting against the headboard, there wasn’t a lot of space there.

The book was very boring, but listening to the sound of Sam’s pencil skritching away on the paper was strangely relaxing.

It wasn’t until the third time that he lifted his hand to his nose, and Sam hummed in a mildly negative way, that he turned to look. Sam finished with a line, and then looked back towards Finn and froze. Finn offered a small smile, “You doing all right?”

“Yeah, I was just...” Sam glanced at the sketchbook on his lap and then back to Finn. “Art, you know?”

“Are you drawing me?” Finn couldn’t help but ask, his chest feeling strangely warm. Sam looked mildly horrified, but after a beat he slowly nodded. “Can I see?” Finn continued, and that got a sharp negative. Finn tilted his head. “Why not?”

“Because... it’s embarrassing.” Sam shrugged, “And private. And you were supposed to sing, and you didn’t, so I’m holding my art ransom.”

“Oh, yeah?” Finn felt his smile broaden. “Does that mean you would show me if I sang something?”

Sam glanced back at the sketchbook and then back to him, “It’s honestly not that good. I mean, I really want to hear you sing, but I don’t want you to be disappointed if you’re expecting the Mona Lisa or something.”

“Dude,” Finn said softly. “There is literally no way I would be disappointed by you, Sam. Ever.”

Read the rest of chapter 3 | Read the whole story on AO3

[embrythecall]

a twilight tag game, you say?

pick 5-10 characters and write your take on the canon version of them vs. fanon version of them. fanon doesn’t have to be what is generally accepted in the fandom, it can be your own idea of what you think a character is like. then tag the same number of people as characters you pick, if you can.

I was tagged by @teamjacobthot -- thank you so much! I’m excited to get into this :) 

EMBRY 

(obviously because i adore him with my whole soul) 

Canon:

chill aka probably just shy let’s be real here

likes to bet on things? 

seems to have the most common sense

Fanon:

HERE WE GO, EVERYBODY *cracks knuckles*

def the smartest one out of him, jake and quil. 

an observer. definitely a people watcher. he reads the VIBEZ

very, super, ultra, mega sarcastic. almost cynical. I feel like he’s probably a realist in a lot of situations rather than either an optimist or a pessimist. probably leans a little more towards pessimism though 

refuses to learn about his dad (though, I personally believe it’s Joshua Uley, but that’s a long headcanon for another day unless someone specifically wants to know my thoughts on it more haha)

a super romantic without knowing he’s a romantic? 

real tight with his mom-- they’ve only ever had each other since old daddio has been out of the picture the entire time and she’s probably never really dated (once again, i have more thoughts on that too but you know, i digress)

also i SUPER headcanon that he almost ALWAYS only refers to her as, “Ma,” unless it is a serious situation in which he uses ‘mother’ but i do NOT feel like he is a ‘mom’ person. at least for his own mother. 

honestly these are just all my own headcanon i have no idea what people think about him :S 

for me, i think him and Jacob are closer than Quil is to either of them. In my mind, when embry’s mom Tiffany first got to town, she became really good friends with Sarah Black and thus, Jacob and Embry have kind of been friends since birth, quil only coming in a little later maybe and just not having the same kind of friendship that embry and jake have

I think him and Leah secretly get each other. Like they don’t talk much or anything, but Embry never makes comments to or about her and doesn’t participate in the guys being absolute jerks to her. 

also, he just guzzles that respect women juice. like, he was raised solely by his mother so like... he was taught to respect women and also i think this makes him more empathetic to other people which is why he wouldn’t be mean to leah or say mean things about her because he’d understand to a level and might even see pieces of his own mother in her because they both were screwed over by men and he never EVER wants to be that to anybody ever

probably plays guitar but NEVER shows anybody 

usually the but of a joke between jake and quil. 

also the decider in arguments between jake and quil

i have a zillion more but i’ll quit while i’m ahead

also

is a slut for muffins

QUIL ATEARA V

Canon:

he thinks he’s a ladies man (thinks) 

more outgoing?

likes hanging out with friends 

took his cousin to prom 

Fanon:

so, so, so funny as in a total dork with a lot of unearned confidence

book smart but NOT street smart

prefers name brand foods over generic because it just ‘has that extra something something’ and also, class

loves to debate with jacob. he always ends up taking it somehow more seriously than jacob does. 

i actually do not know why nobody talks about quil i feel like he’s super underrated and actually hilarious.

@teamjacobthot‘s one of this tag game mentioned he was a soundcloud rapper and i think i DIED so imma also go with that and second you there

very particular about how things are done 

a lover of the puns

toy story is his favorite childhood film, and he announces it as so. 

LEAH CLEARWATER

Canon:

angry and bitter 

thinks nothing more than of sam 

hates vampires 

sassy

Fanon:

i absolutely LOVE practically every fanon i’ve ever seen of leah in the fandom like...ever. they are all so amazing and i actually just want tons and tons of fanfictions about all of them

Ngl, i really am a big AngelaxLeah fan

BUT 

I PERSONALLY hc that leah gets fed up with being in the pack and she feels like there’s really nothing there for her. She ends up leaving la puzb to go off and explore the world-- she wants to see it and experience more than just the memories and the life that surrounds her in la push. she travels all over and often does so in wolf form when she can. I HC she imprints there-- on a real nice super cool lady from some other country. (this is another thing i could go on for days about, i will write a fanfic about it one day. ONE DAY i shall PREVAIL!) 

Honestly, i really do like Leah as she was canon. I think that it was the way everybody acted around her that i would change and i feel like the fandom as a whole agrees on that 

like yeah, Leah is a badass bitch with a great sense of humor. she’s witty and sarcastic and smart and wise and i just love her to pieces. everyone else just needs to wise up and be nicer

JACOB 

Canon:

super supportive and kind and loving and understanding and THEN smeyer swooped in and DESTROYED MY BOY. 

like, don’t even get me STARTED on my feelings about what she did to her OWN CHARACTER 

i mean really

smeyer straight up didn’t know what to do with him so she did... all of THAT. it makes me want to wheep.

Fanon:

the fanons out there on Jacob are just... they are SO WONDERFUL and give me SO MUCH JOY 

i’ve heard him being a mechanic obviously, i’ve heard about the HILARIOUS details of his friendship with like, alice and rosalie and emmett like... that shit is so funny i live for it 

i could read jacob fanons all day

i guess personally, i just love to bits. he’s super patient. very funny but also is really understanding and can (and loves) to get into deep discussions about stuff and listen to other people’s passions and share his own. 

purposefully pushes quil’s buttons so he can get a rise out of him because he LOVES their dumb bickering and enjoys a good debate 

is also almost always right in those debates 

quil probably won like... twice in all of history and it was based on some kind of weird trivia fact he learned in a biology class or something lol

i bet that when the time came he had kids (not with you-know-who obviously cause just...no), he’d be SUCH a great dad and he’d be SUPER hands-on with them, like always taking them places and teaching them how to do various stuff

and if one of his kids was really into something he didn’t know how to do, you KNOW his ass is up on youtube all night long learning how to do it so he can spend THAT MUCH MORE TIME with his kids 

oh he’s just so sweet love him to pieces 

RENESMESS

...I had to do this but i have a good reason:

Canon:

exists

Fanon:

absolutely does NOT exist

who?

the only ONLY acknowledgement i will give her is i read a fanon somewhere about how she HATES her name. like she is downright royally not okay with it and when she gets older and has to go to school for eternity with her family (weird. seriously so weird but i’m pushing through this) she decides to announce that she is only going by this other name (personally i feel like it’s Carlie because it’s still her middle name and jfd;akfsd but also because it’s A NORMAL NAME) and so she is never called renesmee again because that is straight up a monster name and even her nickname is a monster so like, ugh. 

also, i REFUSE to believe that Jacob imprinted on her, okay? if she has to exist, he did NOT imprint on her and they can be buds or something but just... no. (i have so many issues with imprinting guys, i should just sit down and write a long post about it but the ENERGY and it isn’t like it’s not all things that have been said before. it’s more what I’d fix about it so it could still exist but not be a legit code word for grooming and an excuse for blatant p*d* grossness because that’s all it is and i HATE THAT) 

so I don’t talk to anyone in the fandom really because i don’t really know how to start conversations like... at all. I really WANT to talk to people but I’m a chicken and i have a hard time, BUT, i really admire so many of the blogs on here and i LOVE so much of their content. Off the top of my head, i shall tag: 

@chiefjacob @911esme @jacobblackredemptionblog @embrycallsmuffin @leahclearwaterdefensesquad AND anyone else who wishes to do this! it was so much fun! I say do it! and if you’ve already done it, i just tip my hat to you for being an awesome blog :) 

seriously! tag me when you do it, i want to see your answers!! 

[makeste]

BnHA Bonus Diversion: Horikoshi’s Sketches

of all the things I could have spent time writing a post about on my morning off, it ended up being this. but in my defense, Horikoshi’s sketches are actually amazing and this was kind of overdue.

so! as you may know, Horikoshi Kouhei frequently gets bored and doodle-y and is then kind enough to share the resulting drawings with us. sketchy boi. but not sketchy like that. though he did invent Mineta so maybe a little. 

anyway, because he’s so disgustingly talented, these pictures are usually amazing. and there are a lot of them. when I finally got around to doing this post, I ran a search for “Horikoshi sketches” and it turned out there was a whole wiki page dedicated just to them (god bless whoever is running the BnHA wiki, they do such a good job). and, well...

two hundred and eighty-eight. you may recognize this as being nearly fifty more than the current number of chapters. this would mean he’s releasing at least one sketch a week and has been doing so for the past five years! fortunately (for me, who has to do a recap of all these), this number is slightly misleading, as this page apparently includes some of the character sketches he did for the volume omakes. so I don’t have to go through 300 sketches omfg. but still, there are a lot! so I’ll just go through them and post my favorites and see how many we can get through in this post I guess.

these are all in alphabetical order according to their file names on the wiki, and like I said, I’m not doing all of them, just the ones that catch my eye the most. which is still a ton of them. honestly we’re about to find out whether tumblr text posts have image limits. (ETA: the limit does not exist!)

right off the bat we are getting off to a great start! love me the ladies of class 1-A. these girls are all so, so valid. I love how Deku is there too and his hair is transforming into a tree or something.

this is a sketch from chapter 10. this cat I guess just came up to them and they were like “...” and the cat was like “...” and long story short they’ve been like this now for a whole hour. meanwhile Aizawa is wondering where his cat has gone.

why are they dressed like it’s world war I. ??

holy fuck this cat. did it eat the other cat. anyway do you guys think Momo and Todoroki were walking to school together because that’s some cute shit omg. we know there is a cat that hangs out around Shouto’s house, so he’s probably good at playing with stray cats, and they probably really like him because he is calm and kind.

holy shit.

oh my god I need Tsuyu’s siblings to come visit the dorms at U.A. and play with Eri!! now.

posting this one because it’s cute, but also because it notably has nothing at all to do with the actual chapter 120. but that’s okay.

what, and I mean this sincerely, the fuck.

are they making chocolate?? you know, canonically we haven’t actually had a Valentine’s Day yet in the series, and now I’m really hoping we get a little mini plot. things that would happen:

every single girl makes chocolate for Todoroki and he just accepts it very politely and obliviously.

they actually make enough chocolate for everyone (except Mineta. and honestly they would have, except they know how that’s gonna go down, and no. Tsuyu really would have made you some pity chocolate dawg, but you brought this on yourself). but don’t end up giving it to everyone. specifically several of them thought better about giving some to Bakugou after seeing him react to the first unlucky person to give him some (y’all know that song I THREW IT ON THE GROUND by the Lonely Island? I’m sure you can understand my meaning here). and also Jirou gets way too flustered about giving some to Kaminari and chickens out. she gives it to Momo instead. hmmMMMM.

Satou also makes chocolate for everyone, EVEN BAKUGOU, and it’s delicious. no one is throwing his chocolate on the ground.

Aoyama makes chocolate for Deku because!!  ☆ ☆ WE ARE FRIENDS, MON AMI  ☆  ☆  ☆ oui oui baguette.

I love everything about this, but especially Ochako’s face. she’s just like. sincerely trying to figure out exactly where she went wrong.

excuse the fuck out of me but DID HORIKOSHI SERIOUSLY HINT AT THE FUCKING A-BAND A WHOLE ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY CHAPTERS BEFORE IT ACTUALLY HAPPENED. omfg. “what a cute AU!” “yes... AU,” Horikoshi agrees, nodding to himself. although after giving it some thought, he made the wise decision to switch Kaminari and Bakugou’s instruments. because we all know Bakugou was born to play the drums.

NO!!! VIDEO GAMES!!! IN CLASS!!!!!!!! [does a fucking aerial while emitting furious little huffs and bitchslapping Kirishima in the face]

I can’t figure out what’s going on in this picture. it appears to be baseball, except that Bakugou doesn’t have a bat. which I guess is the joke?? because his quirk is so strong he doesn’t need the fucking bat? except that I feel like that would result in either a broken arm or a blown-up baseball. idk this would make more sense with him as the pitcher.

“we really do love this AU, Horikoshi-sensei.” “yes... AU.”

this time it’s Shouji on the drums. I get that we all want to see Bakugou shred guitar, but it feels like he was just postponing the inevitable.

a full 85 chapters before he actually did this in the manga. god he really does enjoy foreshadowing with these things. I need to start paying more attention to these.

I have no words.

actually I do have words, and they are, “is that a fucking toothbrush.”

also is it just me or does he look, like, really swole in this pic. like, this is what the scarf has been hiding the whole time?? here we all thought he was a beanpole who subsisted off of energy bars and plain rice, but like. nope.

:) showing that there’s no hard feelings about the whole shooting-you-in-the-fucking-face thing. All Might is squeezing his hand awfully tightly, though.

all of them are so good-looking when they’re not trying. and then they open their mouths.

I am pained that there hasn’t at least been a karaoke chapter in one of the light novels yet, guys. pained. I NEED THIS.

holy fuck Todoroki. what are you, a mermaid?? I feel like this is a result of a prank gone wrong. like the other guys were sick of the girls always pining after him, and so they tried rubbing a balloon on his head in an effort to make him look ridiculous, only IT BACKFIRED COMPLETELY. shit.

fuck me I love this. of course Kami blowdries his hair and puts a ridiculous amount of effort into achieving the same kind of boyishly tousled look Todoroki is JUST NATURALLY BORN WITH. some things in life just aren’t fair. also lmao Deku.

oh my god. how are they all so cute. this was from episode 12 btw. you’re welcome for saving your life All Might.

I don’t have the slightest idea wtf is going on here but omg.

this was for episode 16 of the anime, a.k.a. the obstacle course episode of the Sports Festival arc in season 2. I can’t read what they’re saying, but I’ll tell you what, I know Bakugou is being a rude little shit and I’m here for it.

SHINSOUUUUUU. this was for episode 20. his one and only appearance in the anime so far. he knows he’s here for a good time not a long time.

lmao. my headcanon is that Monoma actually ended up losing after this, but somehow still managed to be smug about it.

lmaoooo. Kacchan refusing to even acknowledge that this is a thing that is happening for some reason.

HAWKS DID YOU REALLY KILL THIS MAN. COME ON OUT HERE I JUST WANT TO TALK.

I feel like taming Deku’s hair is arguably even more of a feat than taming Bakugou’s. meanwhile Iida looks 90% the same. and Todoroki is. well. just goes to show that this look is not for just anyone.

I have never in my life seen Katsuki so full on just done with life. like he is so fucking over this shit. he’s just rolled over and accepted it. I have never seen Bakugou fucking Katsuki just sigh and be all, “you know what, this might as well happen.” not until this moment. wow.

you guys I’m crying.

is it just me or do the little matroyshka dolls actually look like little nun Jeanists. though the hair swoosh is going the wrong way. Monomas, maybe.

HOLY SHIT I LOVE THIS? my god, how useful would Shouji’s quirk be for this sort of thing. and Shouto looks so surprised (on like, a Todoroki scale) to have actually caught something. oh my god. so fucking cute. c’mere you. someone needs a hair ruffle.

I feel like this is how Tokoyami would want to be remembered. yes I know he’s not dead.

oh my god. so I’ve seen this one floating around on tumblr, but like. ffff. it’s my favorite ever. they are. so. fucking. cute. both looking up to All Might. and then the contrast between their innocent happy faces and their shocked and worried expressions watching All Might at Kamino. god it fucking destroys me. all four of these kids need hugs goddammit. the older ones because they’re heartbroken, and the little bubbas just because they’re so stinkin’ cute omfg.

I LOVE HER AND I’M NOT SORRY. please Horikoshi give me more Bakufam in this upcoming arc. who do I have to bribe or threaten.

STRANGER DANGER omg. Toga no. that’s not nice.

Horikoshi what did my heart ever do to you for you to treat it like this.

villain Iida from episode 7 holy fuck I’m dying.

here come the New Year’s sketches! I’ve been looking forward to these. Kacchan photo strategy: never look directly at the camera.

I wonder which animal year 2016 was. rooster, probably.

fucking look at Todoroki fucking Shouto stuffing his face yet again. can you stop chewing for one fucking second. we’re trying to take a picture you slob.

the year is 2018. Horikoshi Kouhei attempts to draw a dog, because it’s the year of the fucking dog. it does not go well. panicked, he takes the All Might he’s already started drawing, and for some reason attempts to turn it into another dog. it goes even worse. now he’s really starting to sweat. “oh shit,” he whispers, drawing Deku upside-down in his unrest. “oh fuck.” finally he just draws Bakugou shouting the words HAPPY NEW YEAR in giant letters across the screen, hoping that’ll be enough to distract everyone from all the rest of it. it is not.

oh my god. thank you so much to everyone who went to SDCC and made him so happy. this is the purest thing I’ve ever seen. also loving Bakugou tolerating the shit out of All Might leaning on him omg. I’m so fucking weak for this as always.

this is Horikoshi’s most recent sketch! lookit, he’s so happy with the toy him omg. it actually is really badass.

league of dorks. I love Toga’s face. and how Horikoshi clearly put more effort into drawing Tomura’s Face Hand than the entire rest of the picture.

I don’t understand a single element of this. wow. also this is twice now that Horikoshi has drawn the fucking Predator in these sketches. just pointing that out. of all the films to make multiple references to. what’s going on here. and is Mineta playing the fucking little sister in Totoro. am I losing my fucking mind.

this was for the season 3 premiere. I love how Bakugou and Deku are wrestling for control of the screen. but he knows better than to touch Mineta I guess.

Iida and Ochako are the only two reacting appropriately here. Bakugou just looks concerned. to be fair I guess that’s appropriate too. but Deku is all “fuck YEAH All Might you go ahead and SMASH YOUR FACE RIGHT THROUGH THAT MONITOR” and I feel like his blanket approval of all his mentor’s actions has finally gone too far.

this just goes to show you that even a very simple sketch concept can pay off dividends if you play your cards right. good job Horikoshi.

he could run faster if he just pulled his fucking pants up. does anyone have any brain cells to spare for my son here. please he needs them. I don’t know what he thinks a belt is actually for...?

hello this is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen and also is Kirishima doing the kage bunshin pose from Naruto or.

sob Aizawa I’m dead. I fucking love how Mineta is like HE’S CLEARLY FINE IT WAS A FLOP as though Kirishima is not literally covered in fucking grape balls. something else I also love is that Katsuki is number 10 and Deku is number 11. even in a soccer match he can’t stand to be lower then his rival sob. also Ochako is straight up about to rip off Mina’s head jesus christ girl run.

there aren’t even words for how much I ship this. just emotions. omg.

this is one of those pictures that keeps getting more wtf the longer you stare at it. naturally your eyes are drawn to Todoroki’s reindeer antlers first. by contrast, Ochako looks relatively normal, even with the odd pose. but then you notice Deku’s Christmas tree hair. from there your eyes are drawn down to his strange lack of a shirt. and then, finally, you spot him. Tokoyami. you wonder if the mangaka has finally gone too far. you’re still not sure.

for once it’s not Todoroki who’s leaping into action with his mouth full. never one to back down from a challenge, Bakugou has picked the absolute least practical food to consume whilst in the middle of battling. I can barely eat spaghetti without making a mess when I’m not throwing down. I’m not sure what a good food to eat while throwing down would be, but maybe something more portable, like a calzone.

I feel drawn to him the same way one might be drawn to a stray cat, even though you’re pretty sure the cat is really wary of people and will probably try to claw or bite you if you get too close. I would like to pat him on the head, but he might try to blow me up. eh, worth it.

look at the Baku Protection Squad trying to do some fucking Abbey Road thing. damn you can really see how short Tokoyami is in this. also Bakugou buys pants that are at least three sizes too big I s2g.

and that’s it! anyways, this was fun as heck. I’ve bookmarked Horikoshi’s Twitter now so I can keep up with the new sketches as they’re released. this is fucking great, and a whole new bonus to being caught up with the manga that I haven’t been appreciating until now. fucking love it.

[dikanamai]

—Rosa Rivera, in the Land of the Dead <3

I'm not very fond of AUs, but there's a kind of fic in the Coco fandom that I really like a lot: retellings of the movie with a little divergence or some sort of role reversal/role switch.

Some of the fics I've read and enjoyed the most over these months are like this. Like Elegy, my very favorite, in which Imelda is the one who gets cursed in 1942, after Ernesto's death, and visit the Land of the Dead to find out the truth (Elegy isn't a retelling of the movie, but follows a similar plot). Or Shaken by How Long it Took, an actual retelling of Coco, but with an important canon-divergence: Miguel found the wedding photo of Héctor and Imelda years ago (with Ernesto as padrino) and he knows since the beginning Héctor is his great-great-grandpa. This fic is sooo sweet and heartwarming, because both Héctor and Miguel develop a beautiful relationship. Fluff and family bonding.

Other examples are The search for the Female Mariachi, with a role switch between Héctor and Imelda (so she was the one who left and the one who guides Miguel in the Land of the Dead). Or Miguel, a fic with a complex multi role swaps (still on-going). And I'm sure there are more that I've missed.

The last one I've read is Rosa's Journey, a fic that FINALLY follows a plot I was eager to find: Rosa's the one who goes to the Land of the Dead, instead of Miguel. I've been thinking about it a lot. How would've Coco been if the main character was Rosa? I got very excited with Rosa's Journey, though the role switch isn't just between Miguel and Rosa, but between Héctor and Imelda as well (she's the one who left, again). There's a completely new villain, too: Ernesto doesn't exists and Imelda's colleague is a woman named Earlina de Paula. I've loved this fic and, to be honest, it's been a pleasure to read a Coco retelling with female characters in all the main roles (except for Héctor, obviously).

But this last fic let me thinking… what about a Coco retelling in which the only difference is who goes to the Land of the Dead? I mean, what about a Coco retelling in which Rosa goes to the Land of the Dead, but there's no actual role switch? Miguel is the one who wanna be a musician, he's the one who runs away, he's the one who's about to steal de la Cruz's guitar… but then, Rosa follows him, catches him in the cemetery and almost by mistake gets cursed by picking the guitar for Miguel. How many things would've changed then?

The idea got stronger and stronger, because it's a kind of story I would love to read. Rosa loves music too, but she loves and admires her family. She despises her great-great-grandpa for being a jerk. She doesn't idolize de la Cruz. She's sassy, funny, smart, sharp. So what kind of relationship would she develop with Héctor, who's salty, sarcastic, has no more fucks to give and also despises de la Cruz? I mean… wouldn't they be the perfect duo?! I've realized the relationship between Héctor and Miguel in the movie is kind of tense most of the time, because the kid adores Ernesto and Héctor doesn't want to disappoint him but knows the true face of that fucker. But if the kid had been a bit warier about Ernesto, their bond could've been very different. And, let’s be honest: taking care of Rosa would remind Héctor of Coco ALL THE TIME.

So I couldn't help but start writing my own retelling, because I couldn't stop thinking about it. In this story, Rosa lives the adventure that was meant for her cousin. The motivations and relationships between characters are very different. She meets a family she loves, she finds herself forced to look for a great-great-grandpa she despises and joins a trickster who has a lot in common with her. And it's being a joy. I'm writing it in a row (7 chapters by now, I'm in the battle of the bands) and I'd love to post it when I finish. But I wanted to share a little bit, because I'm enjoying it very much. So, if you're interest, here's a sneak peek of chapter 4, when Rosa and Héctor meet each other :D

Before reading: please, remember English is not my mother tongue and this is actually the first time in my life I write fiction directly in English (instead of translating something previously written in Spanish). Though I've been a writer for 20 years now, I'm not good at English. This is the first draft and it hasn't been revised. I have no beta readers, either. So any kind of tip, feedback or whatever would be very appreciate. Enjoy! :)

(...)

She thought she had lost him in the crowd, but spotted him again very quickly. It wouldn’t be possible to get too far with that limp, though he strode across the gallery with firm determination. He was crumpling the officer's warning and throwing it aside.

"Hey! Hey!" Rosa sprinted to him. "You, err… ¡señor! Do you really know de la Cruz?"

The man huffed loudly and began to turn. "Yeah, who wants to—" Then he saw her and shrieked so stridently it seemed to echo around the whole hall. "Y-YOU'RE ALIVE!"

Forget the curse: she was going to die tonight by a heart attack. Blind by the panic rush, she grabbed the man by the suspenders and pulled him rudely into a near phone booth to get out of sight. He pressed himself against the farthest corner, still as scared as if he'd just found himself trapped there with a chupacabras instead of a girl. He seemed about to start screaming again and she was going to throw up, seriously, she was going to.

"Stop yelling, por Dios!" she demanded frantically. "Sí, I'm alive! And just in case you haven't notice, I shouldn't be here right now! I'm in a big trouble and need de la Cruz's blessing to go back home in the Land of the Living!"

"You need— You just— Wait, what?" He was babbling, but then frowned. "Wait there, that's weirdly specific…"

Rosa grunted in frustration, rolling her eyes to the ceiling. Okay, this needed a direct approach. "He's my… great-great-grandfather."

"He's your WHAT?!"

"STOP YELLING!" She shook him, so on edge she didn't even notice she was shouting herself. "I need his blessing now, okay? A family blessing! I just wanna know if you can help me or not!"

"Okay, okay, okay, wait." He waved a hand to shush her and looked aside, a deeper frown shadowing his face as he focused on his thoughts. Some very complex thoughts, it seemed. "Wait, wait, waitwaitwait…" He started tapping on his chin, as if trying to figure something out, and Rosa started tapping her foot impatiently.

"Look, I don't have much time."

"It can't… but what if…"

"Could you just answer my question, ple—?"

"Yes. Yes!" He brightened up and flashed a wide smile at her. "Yes, you're going back to the Land of the Living!"

"No, I'm not, if we spent the whole night here!" Rosa put her hands on her hips, but then noticed his wild expression and grimaced. This guy's mind seemed to be racing even faster than her own, no brakes. Perhaps he had already lost it in full. "Aaand now it's when I start regretting all of this…"

"Nononono, listen up, niña!" He bent down a little, snapping his fingers under her nose. "I can help you, but you can help me too! I can help you, you can help me, we can help each other, but most importantly, you can help me!"

"Whoa…" Rosa couldn't but stare at him, raising an eyebrow. "And I thought I was desperate…"

He narrowed his eyes and tilted his head, his shoulders drooping. "Oh, you've noticed? How sharp!" Okay, that sounded far too salty. "Desperate is my second name, chamaca, nice to meet you."

"That's not very comforting…"

"Hey, hey, hey, look at the bright side! Since I'm desperate to cross over, I'm also desperate to get you to go home! Take it as a guarantee of my honesty, I'll help you!"

She narrowed her eyes, too. The guy was really something, but he didn't seem dangerous, despite his ragged appearance. Rosa was used to identify and avoid creepy men; they all had some kind of energy around them that gave her bad vibes just by being close. But this one just looked like… Miguel. A taller, older Miguel, as harmless as her cousin. She knew she couldn't trust a stranger and she would keep her eyes open, but maybe this could actually work. She glanced at Dante, checking for approval, and the dog was so calm she relaxed a bit.

"Okay then, don Despair." She shot him a smug gaze. "And what's your first one?"

"Héctor." He smiled and offered her his hand.

"I'm Rosa." She shook it and kept the grip to pull him out the booth. "And we're going right now, because I'm chased."

"That's new." She could hear his frown even without looking at him. "Chased by whom?"

But there was no time for explanations. Rosa had just put her feet in the hall, when a well-known female voice called out her name from the distance. She finally spotted her family far away, rushing down the staircase of the upper platform. And the punch of stress and dread hit her hard again, making her heart jump and her stomach twist.

"¡Ay, Dios! Come on, come on, COME ON!!"

She pushed Héctor to the exit, ignoring his complaints, and the three of them bolted to the street. They zipped through the revolving doors so fast that several skeletons broke apart as they slammed against the glass. But she couldn't stop now. Rosa leaped down the steps of the stairway in pairs, with the clack, clack, clack of Héctor's footsteps tripping at her side. Dante passed them by and threw himself into the crowd that filled the place, disappearing between legs and skirts. Too many people, too many. Rosa collided with some passersby who yelled at her, and she babbled apologies and turned around again and again, increasingly disoriented and scared, surrounded by unknown skeletal faces and too bright colors. She was already panting frantically.

"Dante!" she cried out in distress.

"Don't get lost, chamaca!" And suddenly Héctor was at her side, one hand keeping his hat on his head and the other one gripping her wrist to drag her across the plaza. "Over there!"

Rosa had only two seconds to peek over her shoulder one last time, to the Station. She couldn't see her family anywhere. If something went wrong, how…?

Dios, what I am doing?

They rushed together down more stairs and loped off through a few side streets, in that never-ending getaway. At last, they reached an empty, arched alley, far darker and quieter. He finally let go of her hand there, puffing.

"Whoa, that felt like a breakout. You're chased by the authorities, by any chance?" He gave her a questioning look. "Not that I mind, you know, and I know better than to ask unpleasant questions, but this is—" He trailed off when he saw her face and his little smile faded. "Oye, oye, ¿chamaca?"

Rosa wasn't listening. With her back against the alley's wall, she fought to catch her breath, shaking. This was madness. What a mess. Her heart seemed to be fiercely beating in her throat, and she could still see Mamá Imelda's eyes on her with that furious frown. Oh, Dios, she had just run away from Mamá Imelda! From Mamá Imelda! Had she lost her mind? She gaped in horror and cupped her own face, panic bubbling inside her chest once more.

"Hey, chamaca!" Héctor was snapping his fingers again to wake her up. "You okay?"

Her last bit of self-control cracked. "Do I look like I'm okay?!" Rosa shouted in a high-pitched voice, hyperventilating now. "I'm frigging cursed and I'm in the frigging Land of the Dead and I have to find a frigging celebrity before sunrise or I'll be frigging dead and— Oh, Dios, I can see my finger bones already, I CAN SEE MY FRIGGING FINGER BONES!!"

"Rosa!" Héctor grabbed her shoulders and shook her slightly. "Calm down! No yelling, remember? Stop the 'frigging' thing. It's okay, you're gonna be okay. You looked so clear-headed a moment ago it was almost a bit scary, you know. I'm sure you can handle this. You have a plan, right? Just focus."

He talked as if she wasn't right before him in a full panic and he knew her since forever, both things untrue. But his voice was soothing and sounded very reasonable. It reminded her of Tía Victoria and the way she had calmed her down in the cemetery an… hour ago? Two? It seemed like a lifetime. You're a very sensible little woman with a lot of common sense inside that head… Would Tía Vico still think that way? She didn't think so. Rosa groaned and buried her face in her fists. Breathe in, breathe out. Dante pressed himself against her leg and nuzzled her thigh, whining. His warm was comforting, and her pulse began to steady. Yeah, panic wouldn't help her to go back home. She had to focus. She had made a decision and she had to think how many things were at stake. She had to keep cold-head and make this work, whatever it costed.

She had to get de la Cruz's blessing.

"Sí," she whispered finally, and then she straightened up and looked Héctor in the eye. "Sí, I have a plan."

"Great!" He smiled reassuringly. "We'll make it, chamaca. Don't worry, sí?"

Rosa nodded and swallowed. "Gracias. Sorry, I just…" She tried to elaborate, but gave up with a grunt. "That… pinche Miguel!"

"Miguel?"

"Mi primo." Rosa took off her glasses and pressed a palm over her eyes for a moment, praying for her headache to give her a break. "He was about to do a very stupid thing and I tried to stop him. Then I did a very stupid thing and got myself stuck in here. Everything's been a roller coaster since then, I feel as if running for hours. But enough of that. How do we get to de la Cruz?"

"Hey, hey, slow down!" Héctor looked suspiciously hesitant. "First of all, we should do something about all that… that…" He waved towards her, from head to toe. "All that flesh of you. We won't get far if you don't blend in, you need a disguise. Got any makeup or face paint? Something we can use?"

Rosa rushed to unzip her pockets and sighted in relief when she found her little brothers' face paint still there. She only had white and black, and the old red lipstick of Tía Gloria, but that was enough. Héctor gave her a nod of approval and led her up the alley, till they found some crates and took a seat. Dante sat by their side and watched them closely, so incredibly happy again. The dog had relaxed after fleeing the Station and seemed very at ease around the stranger. Rosa took it as a good sign. Even if Héctor was a trickster, he had made a point before: his priority was crossing over the bridge, that much was obvious, so it was unlikely he could mean any harm. There was no point in hurting the only person who could help you.

"Hold still, hold still," Héctor murmured, so focused on her makeup that Rosa straightened up and held her pose. The quietness was very welcome after all the stress, she didn't mind the pause at all. But it was also pretty surreal to be sitting there, with a skeleton painting her face just as Tía Gloria would've done if she hadn't ended in that crazy place.

Perhaps she had just knocked herself out by falling from de la Cruz's sepulcro and was hallucinating the entire thing.

She really hoped so.

A few minutes later, Héctor finally looked satisfied. "Ta-da! The perfect calaverita!" He took a small mirror out of his pocket and held it in front of her. Rosa put on her glasses again and whistled in disbelief, actually impressed. It was a regular calavera makeup, but he'd got creative with the lipstick and had drawn beautiful patterns in her cheeks and around her brows. "Wait, no hood?" he added, peeking over her shoulder to the jacket's back.

"Err… no."

Héctor sighed dramatically. "Ay, okay, your hair. Let it down, we must hide those ears."

Rosa obeyed and he quickly parted her hair in two halves for a twin braids hairdo. He worked so fast, so I-know-perfectly-what-I'm-doing, that she couldn't help whistling again. "You know, you look pretty skilled at braiding," she scoffed.

Héctor chuckled, though his smile seemed a little bittersweet. "I used to make a lot of braids, a long, long time ago. Got any other—?" Rosa held up a second rubber band before he asked for it. "Girls, always ready."

"I must, with this hair."

"This hair's gonna save your day, chamaca." He arranged the braids to cover her ears and put back her diadem as if crowning her. "Okay, ya está. That diadema will keep them in place. Collar up! Perfect, I think we're done. Just…" He looked thoughtfully at her legs. "We should get a skirt. Long to the ankles."

"Oye, how old are you?" Rosa complained, and put her hands on her hips again in annoyance. "Now you talk like my abuela!"

"If Ernesto is actually you're great-great-grandpa, I assure you I'm old enough to be your great-great-grandpa too." Héctor pouted and crossed his arms. "But the point is we can't paint your fleshy legs. Can you unfold that hem?"

Grumbling under her breath, Rosa tried to pull the cuffed hem of her capri jeans as down as she could. It was disturbing to see the curse creeping up her legs, her feet fully skeletal by then like ominous ankle socks.

"Okay, now listen to me, Rosa: this world is not much different from your own, so here are the golden rules." Héctor lifted three fingers. "Stay close, don't get lost and never follow any weird guy to any weird place."

She shot him a dry glare. "You serious?" she blurted out. "I'm in a really weird place with a really weird guy right now!"

"This doesn't count!" He waved a hand dismissively. "We have a deal! And I would never harm a fly, far less a little girl or any other human being."

"Right the kind of thing a weird guy would say." Rosa rolled her eyes. "Look, I can take care of myself, don't worry about that."

"Oh? And how you—?"

He couldn't finish. As fast as light, she took off one of her flats and swatted him hard in the cheekbone. So hard that his skull spun around. Héctor shirked and grabbed his head to stop it, looking at her with wide, dumbfounded eyes.

"You'll never see me coming." Rosa gave him a smug smile and a sassy shrug, before putting her flat on.

"That…" He was speechless. "That felt familiar…"

"Did it?" She raised an eyebrow. "How many women have hit you with their shoes?"

"Just one, but she hit hard enough to be unforgettable." For a tiny moment, he seemed about to smile fondly, but covered it with a cough. "Okay, okay, I trust you, so back to business! There's something important you must understand, Rosa. This place runs on memories. If you're well remembered, people put up your photo and you get to cross the bridge and visit the living on Día de Muertos." He put a hand on his chest with a tense smile. "As you've probably notice by now, that's not my case."

"You've never crossed over?" She frowned, getting serious.

"No one's ever put up my picture. But you can change that!" He took an old photo out from his inner pocket and handed it to her. It was black and white, with a young living Héctor who looked a very little older than her own big brother. His eyes were big and bright, and his smile seemed to cross his whole sharp-angled face. She scanned it intently, feeling that something was off but not getting what. Dios, how old actually was that guy? How old was he when he died?

"So… this is you."

"Muy guapo, eh?" he joked, waving his brows.

Rosa snorted. "So you want me to put up your photo on my family's ofrenda when I get home… in exchange of getting me to my great-great-grandpa."

"Well, yeah, about that…" Oh, no, that suspicious hesitation again. "Actually, de la Cruz is a tough guy to get to, and I need to cross that bridge soon. Like tonight. So, you got any other family here? You know, someone a bit more… ehh, accessible?"

Rosa stared at him, poker-faced. She couldn't think about her family without fretting again, but she couldn't afford another panic attack either. Héctor was really desperate; if he found out she'd just run away from her relatives, they would never make their way to de la Cruz. He could even try to take her back to the Station right away. So she hardened her look and narrowed her eyes, in what she hoped to look like an 'are-you-frigging-kidding-me' expression.

"What part of  'I need de la Cruz's blessing' you didn't get?" she hissed, trying her best to look offended. "Did you really think I'd be here if I had another option? It's de la Cruz's or nothing!" Rolling her eyes with a lot of drama, she huffed and pushed the photo against Héctor's chest. "I should've guessed you only wanted to get rid of me as soon as possible. Well then, don Despair! I won't bother you anymore, good luck with your bridge. Let's go, Dante!"

She stood up and strode away.

"Wha— Waitwaitwait!" Rosa was already half way to the alley's entry. "Argh! Okay, okay, niña, fine! Fine! I'll get you to your great-great-grandpa!"

Rosa stopped and waited while Héctor trotted towards her, limping. When he reached her, she flashed him a bright smile.

"Lead the way, guapo," she teased.

Héctor pouted again. "You're pretty terrible, you know that?"

And this time, she felt extremely proud.

[derpyslurpy-da-derp-master]

I love Akiba’s Trip with a passion, to demonstrate why here’s the main cast rated by how much I love them

Nanashi (MC) 9/10. Can be the funniest dork that ever dorked and incredibly sweet when he (the player) wants to be. Seriously some of his lines are actual comedic gold and make me cackle just thinking about them while others give me diabetes. Canonically accepted a sketchy job application with expensive anime figurines as payment. Almost turned into what is basically an artificial vampire and just rolls with it like it’s just another Tuesday. I love him.

Nana 5/10. Real funny lil sis to Nanashi. I honestly don’t know much about her considering she’s like a rare monster spawn. Really fun when she’s on screen, calls Nanashi literally every variation of ‘Bro’ under the sun, Brofessor, Brotato, and my personal favorite; Brotagonist. Constantly asks for him to do shit for her or give her money. Funny but not much to love on a deeper level.

Yuto Tachibana 7/10. A very good boy, very smart, the brains of the squad. Soft lad that’s very underappreciated. I literally have nothing else to say. I love him.

Rin Tokikaze 7/10. An actual Tsundere who’s an idol and spokesgirl for a Pharmaceutical company. Puts on a cutesy act for her fans but is pretty sassy and snappy offstage. Does have an actual soft spot sometimes in rare instances and she can be absolutely fucking adorable when she wants to be. Will actually kick your ass if you try to start shit. Will also kick your ass if she doesn’t want to deal with your shit. Also just doesn’t give a shit. Looks cute but will fucking kill you if it suits her. Probably tried to bludgeon god at some point. Basically if a honey badger had a human body. Tried to kill a man with a keyboard guitar. *slaps Rin* This bad boy can fit so much fucking rage in it. She may be a little gremlin but she’s my little gremlin okay?

Kaito Tachibana 5/10. The biggest loser to exist. Big bro to Yuto. Useless. Garbage boy. Fights using an anime figurine. Knows every route to every dating sim ever made and will brag about it. Claims to be a hit with the ladies but literally all of them but the two really nice ones hate him. *holds him up* stinky. *waves him around* stinky bastard man. Is pretty funny, breaks the 4th wall. Like Nana, not much on a deeper level, very one dimensional so while he’s hilarious I don’t feel super attached to him.

Tohko Sagisaka 8/10. Childhood friend of Nanashi. Sassy as all hell, can and will mock Nanashi whenever possible. Really gay for Rin, like, REALLY gay. They literally kiss at one point. Honestly yeah they’d make a good couple and would get along swimmingly considering Tohko probably punched the sun at some point or tried throwing hands with god before. Will not take anyone’s shit. Punches actual vampires on a daily basis. Very done with all you people at all times. Can be a softie sometimes and it’s precious. All in all I love her she’s great.

Kihachi “Pops” Sugiyama 7/10. Is the only responsible one here. Local single father of six adopts two more kids who are actually supernatural beings. Loves all his children equally. Needs a freaking break. Just wants someone to buy something at his game bar for gods sake. A bad cook but real good at making Coffee. “I’m not a kid person.” He says followed by a hoard of children. Is actually a badass but didn’t want to steal Nanashi’s thunder. A very good dad, I love him.

Kati Raikkonen 9/10. Swedish waitress at the game bar the squad uses as an HQ. Very soft gal and precious bean. Does not understand sarcasm very well and has difficulty speaking Japanese so half the time what comes out of her mouth is grammatically incorrect or like, she mixed up some words in a saying and it’s the funniest thing ever, Yuto’s always patient and gently corrects her/translates what she just said for the gang. Like, an example (not from the game but just how she talks sometimes) would be ‘Let us all just do the claming down!‘ instead of ‘Let’s all calm down!’ I think it’s adorable and really funny, she’s a precious bean and I love her. 

Shion Kasugai 2/10. BUY A SUIT JACKET THAT FITS FOR FUCKS SAKE. STOP TALKING SO CREEPILY TOWARDS NANASHI HES WAY YOUNGER THAN YOU. STOP BEIN SUPER SKETCHY. STOP MAKING RIN THINK YOU ARE KIDNAPPING HER SISTER. JUST. STOP.

Shizuku Tokikaze 10000/10. Is doing her best. Very sad. Needs lots of hugs. Familial issues off the wazoo. Starts out cold but grows to love Akihabara and the people in it. Says both real deep shit and real nerdy shit. Turns into a serious anime fan. Seriously she falls in love with an anime and it’s Adorkable AF. Speaks very calmly except for one scene where she’s super embarrassed and it’s the cutest thing ever her voice is so pleasant oml- Okay but seriously all joking aside someone give her a fucking hug please she’s depressed and bottling up so much and she hates herself like girl please stop you’re amazing you precious bean. Love her with all my heart. Best girl. No contest. Protecc.

[afanoftheglassscientists]

Comments on The Glass Scientists Chapter 7 Page 28 (Discussing Chapter 7 Pages 10-28)

So my comments are being detected as spam on the comment section of The Glass Scientist page, which from what I can guess from searching through various Disqus threads is because my comments are split into paragraphs and are really, really long.  And although they automatically have a “we’ll work on getting this corrected” thing the moment it gets marked as spam I hear some comments taking months to get released from spam jail. 

Which is annoying, because for one Disqus doesn’t set any clear ground rules for commenting beside the obvious ones regarding bullying and is vague about why things might get marked as spam by accident, and for two I had to go through some threads where people were complaining that SOMEHOW it was the sjws fault that the system was so bad and how its censorship to mark their comments as spam.  NO DAWG, ITS A BAD SYSTEM OF AUTOMATICALLY MARKING THINGS AS SPAM WITH VAGUE RULES LIKE PARAGRAPH BREAKS.  WHY CAN’T YOU PEOPLE COMPLAIN ABOUT LEGITIMATE WEBSITE ISSUES WITHOUT MAKING IT A BAD FAITH FREE SPEECH DEBATE NONSENSE PARTY GUUUUUAAAAAH

But I’m not here to just complain about that.  What I’m here for is to share my riveting and thought-provoking sentiments on Sabrina Cotugno’s The Glass Scientists such as “Jasper is the best” and “Jasper is a good werewolf scientist” and “Did I mention how great Jasper is yet?” and anything else I mentioned in the dark forbidden comments I wrote.  I’m not re-writing everything word-for-word, and I’m only doing the for the ones that are spammed.  I’ll probably leave my longer thoughts here from now on if I feel like gushing more and leave my comments on the Disqus page to a paragraph. 

If you want to see my older comments that range from okay to downright embarrassing here is my profile.  I’ll mention putting my blog (the one you’re look at) in my disqus profile next time I comment if people from the glass scientist discussion want to join me in this hellsite.  So without further ado...

Jasper’s the Best.  The End.

...okay i had more than that to say.

Jekyll and Lanyon were a Thing.  Mood of the Day is “We Been Knew”

In all seriousness its nice to have it in canon as it were, but if you’ve ever looked through the author’s blogs and her previous page descriptions it was pretty clear they had some history together.  So it wasn’t so much a “oh my gawd they WERE roommates” moment as much as a “oh worm” moment.  Its nice to think about the happy time they might have had together, even it did get cut off unceremoniously.  Could it be that their break-up just HAPPENED to be in the same year Jekyll decided “Do you know what would be cool?  If I just like...plucked out the bad, naughty feelings.  Just.  Make a nasty little man from my mind and toss my bad no good feelings there.  Yeah.  That’d be nice.”  Hmmmmmmmm????  Maaaaaaaybeeeeee?????

Lanyon the Super Sleuth

Jekyll - “Oh yeah, Lanyon.  He’s great isn’t he?  He’s the best.  He taught me how to dance.  Jasper I need tell how great Lanyon is for like an hour.  In this room.  With the door closed so no one can come IN while I gush about my friend.  Just a good...long...chat.  About Lanyon.  My best friend who would definitely not go snooping through my private paperwork behind my back.”

Lanyon holding a very important page belonging to Jekyll that he’s definitely not supposed to have while hiding behind an office desk -

*silent screaming*

I Can’t Think Straight on the Hyde in Jekyll Gentlemen Jail Part of the Chapter So I’m Going to Set That Aside for Now

I don’t know why.  I just can’t have any other clear thoughts aside from “Hyde is a stinky rat man” and “oooooooh pretty mindscapesssss.”

Frankenstein and Jekyll are doing JUST Fine and They are Not Hiding ANY Underlying Issues With Bravado and/or Sparkles (They’re Not Fine)

So the thing that just clicked with me is that Jekyll and Frankenstein have the same struggle with being vulnerable and dropping their guard around others without it feeling wrong.  If they realized they had this in common they’d hate it.  I’m just going to copy the part of my comment on Frankenstein’s issue here-

She hates vulnerability.  I mean, she's definitely not a woman who bit more than she could chew and in the process lost everything she held dear until all that was left was the creature she made that led to her destruction no no no. She’s a legend. She's THE mad scientist. She made the impossible possible. She can't be vulnerable nooooo. For people as brilliant and ingenious as her vulnerability does not exist. Its not an option.

It’s good to know her history (or as I called it, “The Frankenstein F***** Up Real Bad Story”) is relatively the same as the original story’s Frankenstein, because like...Frankenstein did a real bad there.  And Jekyll is in the midst of biting more than he could chew with his whole “oh sure just split my mind its fine” thing about to get him in trouble with his best friend/ex and soon with his other friends and probably the cops somewhere along the line so its almost like Frankenstein’s life mistakes and the way she copes with it...is a reflection of Jekyll’s past and future mistakes, and how he copes now and what he might do to cope in the future...hmmmmm... symmmbolismmmm...mmmmmaaaaybbbbeeee....

Okay I Behaved Myself Now Let Me Talk About My Good Good Science Wolf Jasper Please

HE’S BACK!  HE’S BACK!  BRING IN THE MUSIC!

...okay in retrospect he was there at the beginning of the chapter so it hasn’t been that long since we last seen him.  But I haven’t caught up reading for like six months so it felt really long to me. 

Jekyll’s been having it rough and his tears are entirely reasonable.  Here’s another part of my comment that I was VERY proud of because its almost readable-

TFW you have to care for a involuntary patient who discouraged all of your lodgers to no longer participate in the exhibition which you absolutely need to succeed in order to keep the place open and also you have a part of you that you use to hide "dark desires" locked away and currently attempting a jailbreak in your mind AND YET in what might feel like the worst week of your life you find one good werewolf country boi trying his best for you and the lodgers and he might need a lot of work on presentation and cleanliness but good lord you were able to find SOMETHING to feel happy about. 

Its funny because I predicted Jasper wasn't exactly with the Frankenstein IN crowd because he's not a crowd person in general and he's got creatures to feed and large chicken legs to eat, but I was surprised that Jasper is putting effort into the exhibition without Jekyll pushing him. H-he's so good! What a good and smart man he is. I'm so proud. So strong. So sweet.

It also shows that Jasper can push himself to work on projects without outside help, even while the others around him slack off without consequence (for now.)  Which in hindsight makes sense, considering he was by his lonesome collecting critters and data for like months before he met Jekyll.  Obviously he still needs a push when it comes to socializing, which is good for Jekyll because he really, really needs someone to depend on him that doesn’t hate his guts (You hear that, Frankenstein!?)

It’s like having a class where the professor doesn’t punish anyone for ignoring his lessons so most of the class considers it free time but there’s that one student who not only takes the lessons seriously but actually works on the assignments.  Like wow!  Someone still cares!  Amazing!  Miracles still exist folks.

Its interesting how Jekyll is so willing to give away his “trade secrets” when it comes to presenting himself as a gentlemen to Jasper.  He doesn’t sugarcoat his philosophy on how people only look for the surface and don’t care what’s underneath.  He did this a little during the second chapter when he was trying to encourage Jasper, and he’s continuing it now in more detail.  Also between the sparkly lecture on how to gussy up a presentation he like...talks about himself?  Like has a chat with Jasper that isn’t exactly following the code of gentlemen sparkle-speak where he either tries to flatter people, convince people of something or find ways to improve his image.  There’s a solid line between when he’s just having a conversation and gettin’ along with new werewolf pal Jasper, and when he going into sparkle mode to give Jasper advice.

Also on the author’s twitter she revealed that Jekyll never told anyone about the dance lessons until now, which wasn’t surprising.  Jekyll is Tired enough to reveal he has an accent and is Tired enough to let his guard down a little and talk about how he learned to be sophisticated through his REALLY GOOD FRIEND LANYON WHO’S TOTALLY NOT HIDING IN HIS OFFICE.  I feel like if you really want to hear his accent you need to knock him out and hope he mumbles in his sleep because I find it hard to imagine him being even more Tired than he is now.

I think it’ll be interesting to see which aspect of their relationship moves further forward - the aspect of a growing friendship between Jasper and Jekyll that could help both of them open up or the aspect of Jekyll continuing to pass down his philosophy to Jasper (which I’m positive will have absolutely no unintended consequences hahaha and teaching Jasper the ways of the sparklemen.

Okay that’s all I’ve got to say from the comments I made.  I was going to make a list of predictions but I think I’ll save that for another day.  For now I’ll leave you to imagine Frankenstein with a steampunk-style electric guitar in her bed screaming singing heavy metal music about mad science, with a Tired Jekyll behind her going, “Ma’am please...take your medicine...”

[astro-b-o-y-d]

Camp Xray and Vav/Hero Hero AU: Roles Part 1

Since it might be a bit before I can draw EVERYONE out, I kinda want to make a proper list of everyone’s roles in both AUs. Not all of them will be directly swapped, like David’s and Mogar’s, but I’ll definitely still try and fit them into roles that already exist in the canon setting. Of course, I might also change up just how big or little a certain role is, but that’s mainly because....my AU, my rules.

For this post, I’ll do the roles for Camp Xray and Vav, and then the Hero Hero roles will be a separate post that I’ll write up later. Readmore because this gets long.

Mogar: A mostly-silent and slightly-intimidating camp counselor of the camp (who’s name I haven’t quite decided on for reasons I’ll explain further down). Plays guitar, but not really when other people are around, and usually just keeps his guitar on his back for the most part. Tends to have very little patience when it comes to the campers (specifically two of them) but he never gets so angry that he yells at them or anything. They are just children after all. But it does get kind of frustrating when Xray spends half the day clinging to his leg in an attempt to take him down.

Hilda: The second camp counselor and a disgraced scientist who couldn’t get a job anywhere else as a result. Is favored by the camp’s sweet mascot; a sweet, unusually blue platypus she named ORF (guess it can’t really stand for much when she’s not orbicular, but...maybe she’s just real round). Overall hates the camp, but the isolated location does make for a good place to think and she does spend a lot of her time planning out new inventions. Of course with her limited budget/supplies, she can only built so much and a lot of the inventions she’s actually able to build ends up in the trash, where they can easily be snatched up by the tiny, gloved hands of two wannabe heroes.

ORF: Like I said, camp mascot and an unusually blue platypus. Much nicer than Mwack, though she often doesn’t know how dangerous she can be and bites people in an attempt to play with them. Tends to stick to Hilda.

Xray: Ten-year-old-camper; at the camp for Superhero Camp (which is...kinda not really a camp and his ‘superhero’ outfit is a towel camp and symbol taped to his little red camper shirt). Wants to be the best and coolest hero in the world, like in that one anime! But he’s ten and also has a bit of an attitude/ego going on, which makes hero-ing tough. He’ll get there one day, though. In the meantime, he’s perfectly content with being a hero around the camp and ‘borrowing’ any 

Vav: Also a ten year-old-camper, and also at the camp for Superhero Camp (so he says). Pretty much the same as Xray, though without the temper/ego. The two of them met the first day of camp and have been best friends ever since. Tends to be the more levelheaded of the two, though he’s not afraid to get involved in fun adventures with his best friend. Also this has nothing to do with anything, but he has a stuffed, pink plush toy with yellow spots that he tends to carry around with him (”Superheros need a sidekick!” so he says). Though...it is a bit.....terrifying....

Ash: The newest ten year-old-camper, attending the camp for Writing/Journalism Camp. She’s bubbly and excited and eager to tag along with the boys on their adventures, which makes Vav happy because little baby summer crushes. Xray, not so much. But he still lets her come anyway, because she can write down all their adventures and tell everyone how cool they are. Also she’s ‘actually kind of smart and fun and stuff’ (Xray’s words). Why didn’t I make the third camper Hilda? Simple, I like me a AshVavXray dynamic.

Rusty: The Quartermaster of the AU (that’ll...make putting him in the other AU tricky, but we’ll burn that bridge when we get to it). Pretty much the same character as he was before; just a bum who needed a job. Take care of a camp for a summer in exchange for money, food and a bed? Hell yeah, Rusty’s your man.

Dragonface: An eight-year-old camper, who was originally attending Fantasy/Magic Camp. However, he became so enamored with Xray and Vav’s hero-ing that he keeps trying to sneak over to Superhero Camp so he can hang out with him. Something that makes Xray complain loudly to Mogar about, which causes him to come and fetch the eager child and take him back to his own camp area. But he always finds a way back, and sometimes sneaks off to follow the trio when they go on some wild adventure.

Corpirate: Okay, so remember when I said I was having trouble coming up with a name for the camp in this AU? That’s because I planned on the Corpirate being in Campbell’s spot as owner of the camp and Camp Corp is already an actual thing in CC’s canon. Not that it really matters either way; the Corpirate is always away on either business or vacation so it’s not like it matters if the camp is even named after him. In fact, he’s on vacation so often that he’s referred to as the Yarrrgarita by Hilda (g....get it? GET IT?). But maybe I WILL stick with the camp being called Camp Corp, until I can think of a better name. In any case, yeah, Corpirate’s the boss. He’s obviously not as evil as he is in canon, though he’s....kinda along the same veins as Campbell. Still kind of an asshole obsessed with money, and doesn’t really care that much about the camp itself. But honestly, he’s not much of a threat to the counselors/campers/camp in general. Now, his hired assistant on the other hand...

Mad King: He’s exactly the same, but he kills, manipulates and traps animals in holes with the claim that it’s his religion. No seriously, the only difference between him and Daniel is the reasons WHY they murder and manipulate. And also the Mad King is actually handsome. Hey-o. But he has a much bigger role in the AU than Daniel ever did in the CC canon, and actually comes to visit the camp on multiple occasions in place of his boss. Definitely gives everyone an uneasy vibe, and the kids aren’t fucking idiots and know what a cultist is, but he never does any of that stuff on the campgrounds so they can’t really confirm their suspicions about him. But MAN, is he a fucking weirdo. Also Mogar definitely seems uncomfortable and angrier when he’s around, but the kids don’t know why.

[soaringlanddormitory]

DAI IN THE YAKUZA AU BABY WHO HURT YOU

JKBFDGJKDFG I seriously love how people are noticing how Dai is in the Yakuza AU because in terms of personality, he probably changed the most… Also a lot of people hurt Dai being real… but because this seems like it’s also wanting reasoning and history…

Have a little character analysis of Dai in the Yakuza AU, aka Death!!

[Also yes, haracter analysis exists in my aus based on their lines okay jgkdfbg I worked hard gkjfdbg I know it’s long but I hope you like the answer!!]

“Aroon… Aroon… Kaoru… Masae…” A ginger was shaking Kaoru, who had his eyes dull. “She… She’s…”

“Dai… I know.”

“Fuck! Fuck!” There were several punches that could be heard, and he only punched the wall harder. “My mother may have died, but God shouldn’t be cruel enough to get Masae too!” He yelled before curling up to a ball. “Her family… Murdered… In such a humiliating way…”

This scene was inside The Risks part 1!! Also yes, this is when his eyes started to get dull. It also shows that he may not handle people close to him dying [Ironic, because his name is death]

“We’re breaking this gang.”

“What do you mean-”

“You make your own gang, I make mine.” He slowly stands up, but his hands were clutched tightly. “… We’ll need to work faster.”

“Kaoru…”

“We have to eliminate them. We’ll kill them. We’ll be the leaders of our own gang, and get revenge…”

“Is this for her?”

“Yes.”

“You already know my answer…”

They’d do anything for her.

This one as also seen in Part 1, and we get to see what Kaoru says and he mentions killing, revenge and stuff like that… The fact the was what Kaoru said and also mentions the reason of breaking the gang, those reasons were stuck in his head… and he followed it completely. Also how Dai is now? Kaoru doesn’t speak up against him a lot because he thinks it’s his fault about how violent he is now [So Kaoru has a lot of regrets he has but never voices out, not even his gang members know. Eizan and Kuga get to know at one point when they drink together, but if someone wants a character analysis of Kaoru, it will be on a different part]

“A must? Really? Yeah sure, whatever. Just be sure they’re not going to do anything against me… or else…” He paused for a moment, and if Isshiki was able to see him right now, he might have one single drip of sweat crawl down his face. It wasn’t a sight to smile at. A normal person would have backed away, especially if he had his favorite knife at hand. “They’ll pay.” Suddenly, someone was close to Eizan’s face, a knife directly at his neck and a gun thrown down to the ground. “This is my house. Respect me, fucker.” 

Also there are moments like this from Missing Pieces which… really show his complex with people going by his rules. Those rules are pretty much because of how he hates traitors [alright but you saw a glimpse of the Milas family there, and that actually lowkey mirrors why Dai hates traitors] and then liars because- well, he hates them because there were too much people who lied to him before. 

He normally doesn’t have a big complex when people don’t respect him, it only happens if you’re in HIS area. That’s why Eizan and Kuga couldn’t react too well because they’re not used to this complete change since they haven’t seen him for 1-2 years by now… And they actually never knew about how much he demands for respect when you’re in his place because normally, he’d be in Kaoru’s house and just be drinking or playing cards… or matchmaking because… yeah.

Eizan didn’t want to respond to the male, but Kuga had the biggest grin on his face. “Grim Reaper, she’s engaged to Greedy Shit over here!”

“We’re coming in some seconds, Grim Reaper!”

By the way, I would like to point out that Kuga was being all friendly to Dai, and Dai normally responded with fun. This shows he may have a good relationship with Kuga, but not Eizan and that’s because of the Eizans reputation of being liars [but that also branches to another story] but it does improve, and he doesn’t hate him since he knows him better- but their relationship isn’t too great yet.

And the reason behind it is because the fall of events in Dai’s life in this AU, and this shows a lot of things hurt him

1.) His joined the Yakuza at first for the money, so he could save the life of his mother. He used to work alone too.2.) He failed that, and his mother ends up dying. He was told that she was going to be saved as long as the right amount of money is given to them, and they lied.3.) He still continues in the life because he has accepted the fact that’s his way of living now.4.) He joins Kaoru’s gang at first, and this was when he felt pretty warm again, and at one point, he always saw the family of Masae back when they were dating- so he now had a new family but then…5.) Masae’s parents died, and they were basically his second family at this point. [Also Kaoru considered them as second family too]6.) Once he knew who did that to her family, he gets really screwed over, I can even say that he has a lot of trust issues after7.) He starts his own gang to catch the person faster- Kaoru focused on creating his team with people he trusts [As you can see, he’s close with all the members of his team] and Dai bases his decisions on power and benefit, money is also a factor and success. 

The turn of events really broke his character a lot, and this made him change over time of feeling a lot of things going down in his life. Also, it takes a lot of time before he actually trusts you. He only has a soft spot for certain gang members, and these are Kaoru, Masae, Emile, Tetsuji, Hanako, Christelle, Rin, The group of Clovers and Bull’s Eye and a couple of more people.

The main reason is because he met them before everything went downhill, and he trusts them. Even if he may seem like he’d threat them, he wouldn’t really hurt them.

He doesn’t have a weak spot for Eizan though because they didn’t have the best meetings [but he always guessed the type of girl he’d probably like okay… you don’t need to like a person to matchmake them] and he has no weak spot for Kuga because… honestly, why would he? He’s so prideful and all, so he doesn’t think he needs it?

He also gains a weak spot for the rest of his members, but trust me- it took time as well.

The reason why he’s so wary of Nene is because he’s well informed she’s new about this whole Yakuza life, and he doesn’t want anything bad to happen on his side and he has 0 trust in her at first. [She could literally report their location, and they can be caught] However, after a month or two, he learns to trust her more.

This is because Nene’s fear of him dies down, while his feelings of wariness for her dies down as time progresses. 

It’s also something like “If you can survive with me, then I guess I believe that I can trust you.” kind of thing for him.

More weeks later, he ends up smiling sincerely around the whole gang and don’t let the murderer fool you, as soon as you bring up ships, he’s so down to talk about them. I like thinking him and Rin [@polar-stars‘ oc!!] sometimes sit down and talk about ships even in this au. But this is only when they’re by themselves or around people they trust.

Then there’s him around Emile [@polar-star-dorks‘ oc] and he’s actually really protective over him, and if Emile talked to him, he’d also probably listen but still act like the bad vibe he gives, but it dies down a bit gjkdfbg But on free time, he’d actually really want him to play his guitar.

Dai doesn’t really act like his whole Yakuza self because he actually separates personal life and business really well!! 

Also until now, he easily flusters, don’t let him trick you for that one as well because just compliment his skill with the knife, he’s going to go red and probably bring it out because he’d believe you’re bringing his guard down.

Also out of topic but he always brings confetti with him. No one knows why. 

What stays from the canon universe?

He’s a hardcore shipper of EtsuNe in this au… LIKE A VERY BIG ONE. It only later on reveals when he’s chill with Nene and he fucking pushes Eizan a lot to her says “Now kiss, fuckers.”

Also he also ships HanaRu with his whole lot and wonders when Kaoru will confess, because god, he was shipping them ever since high school and nothing is happening!! Kaoru, in a nutshell, hs liked Hanako [@polar-stars‘ oc!!] for a long time now as well.

Also TeruSae. Surprisingly, he’s less strict than Kaoru but he has to promise him that he’ll do a better than job than him since he let every fucked up thing happen to Masae and he couldn’t stop a thing.

Just give him more time, and he’s going to be a softie, trust me! Just get through the 1.) scary phase 2.) quiet phase and you’d be good kjgbdfg [one month each, but if you talk to him more, it can lessen so jkgfdbg]

[isolavirtuosa]

Cass & Dean’s Infinite Playlist 1-5

[fanfiction] Dean/Castiel

Canon Compliant Coda

The one where Dean makes a lot of mixtapes.

Parts 1-5/26 under the cut.  Referenced songs playlist on Spotify.

- 1 -

  As the last strains of High Voltage faded out, I reached over to the cassette player and hit ‘eject’, ready for something different.  I eased Baby into the shoulder out of habit, and started rifling through my cassette collection.  Something out of place caught my eye, and I pulled the tape out, squinting at it.

Deans top 13 Zepp TRAXX

I ran my thumb over the lettering, the prayer escaping my lips before I was even aware of what I was doing.  “Cass…”

He was just suddenly there beside me.  “Hello, Dean,” he said, his expression… soft?  Was he actually… smiling?

“Cass?” I repeated, completely thrown off.

“Yes,” he agreed.

“You’re… here.”

“Yes.”

I stared at him.

He stared back, still smiling.

“Where the hell have you been?” I finally mumbled, looking away.  The last time I’d seen him was in the storage room of the bunker after he pushed me away and disappeared into the Empty.

“I’m sorry, Dean, I was waiting for your prayer.  I didn’t want to intrude.”

There was a lot to unpack in that.  “It’s not an intrusion,” I grumbled, elbowing him.  “And I prayed to you every night on earth after you…  I prayed every night.”

“I know,” he said, his tone taking on a regretful tinge.  “I would have come to you if I could have.”

I shrugged, fingers still running over the mixtape.

“I couldn’t hear your prayers in the Empty,” he explained, head tilted as he tried to peer up at me.

“Kinda figured that,” I said, avoiding his gaze.

“Dean?”

“Yeah?” I asked, letting my gaze flick to him.

Blue eyes sucked me in.  “You’re being avoidant,” he said.  “Anyway, when Jack pulled me out of the Empty, my vessel was destroyed-”

“Uhh,” I said, looking his trench-coated frame up and down.

“It was a whole thing, Dean.”

“A whole thing?” I repeated with a snort.

“Yes, the entire universe almost ceased to exist, but anyway, Jack was finally able to recreate my vessel,” he explained without actually explaining anything.  “Unfortunately, you were already gone by that time.”

“Gone, right,” I said, huffing out a laugh.

The light seemed to go out of Cass’s eyes, and he reached his hand out, resting it heavily on my shoulder.  “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there,” he said quietly.  “I reached out to you when I could, and I thought you felt me, but…”

I thought of all those nights I stumbled into my bed, not quite drunk so I wouldn’t worry Sammy, hugging Miracle to my chest and mumbling stupid prayers into his fur, saying things like, “Cass, if you’re out there, please…?”

And sometimes I would hear a sound that made me think of the fluttering of wings, and I would feel a warmth like the hand currently pressed to my shoulder.  Those nights I would fall right to sleep, no tossing and turning, no nightmares, and I would wake up feeling… okay.

“Yeah, I…” I trailed off, then shrugged his hand away as I moved to press the tape I’d been holding into the cassette deck.  The familiar sound of Jimmy Page’s guitar filled the car.

Cass seemed like he wanted to say something.

“I wanna drive,” I told him, moving to put the car back in gear.

“We are in a car,” he said slowly, like he was puzzling out a riddle.

“Perfect,” I said, pulling back onto the road.

What was it Cass had said before?

You’re being avoidant.

I fixed my eyes on the road, drumming my fingers on the steering wheel.

We were usually good at comfortable silence, but there was something lying between us unspoken, straining the silence into something awkward.

So I started singing.

The tension seemed to drain, and I could feel Cass smiling again.  Then he shocked the hell out of me and started to sing along with me.

Anyone who had ever talked about someone having the ‘voice of an angel’ had clearly never heard an actual angel sing.  Cass was mostly tone deaf, though he could occasionally find the melody.

That didn’t really matter to me, though.  We sang as loudly as we wanted, smiling and laughing, and I knew I had my best friend back, like nothing had changed.

Like I wasn’t dead, and he wasn’t the leader of heaven, and he hadn’t said all those things that he said before he went away.

Nothing had changed.

It was my car, and I could be as avoidant as I wanted to.

We were on our second rendition of Immigrant Song when Cass’s voice faded out and he tilted his head, eyes squinted in concentration.

“Dean, I have to go,” he finally said.

“Duty calls,” I said with a shrug.

“Yes,” he agreed.  “But if you find yourself in need of a passenger again, you know how to reach me.”

And then he was gone, before I could get a word out, much less give him his tape back.  So I left it in the deck and sang by myself.

 - 2 -

  Cass didn’t always come immediately when I called.  Sometimes he would appear hours later, looking disheveled.

“Work,” he would explain.

“Tough bein’ the boss,” I’d agree, then I’d go back to driving.

Today we were listening to Metallica.

“It’s a little… loud…” Cass decided.

“Yeah, man, that’s what metal is,” I said, nodding my head to the music.

“But I can’t really hear the words…”

“You a lyrics guy, Cass?”

“Yes, definitely,” he said with a nod.  “I’ve always appreciated the work of poets.”

“Well James Hetfield is a hell of a poet,” I informed him.

Cass squinted, like that would help him hear the music better.

“You wanna borrow a tape?” I offered.  “Listen to it with your headphones?”

“Will that make it less loud?” he asked.

I laughed, shaking my head.  “You sound like an old grandpa.”

“Well, Jack has created many angels, so I would say technically-”

“Uh-uh, no way, that doesn’t count,” I protested, mostly because I didn’t want to be a grandpa, either.

“Could you…?” he started to say, then hesitated.

“What?” I asked, smacking his arm.  “Speak up.”

“Could you… maybe… make me another mixed tape?” he asked, almost shyly.

“Sure,” I said agreeably.

“It’s not too much trouble?”

“Oh, well, you know, I’ll try and fit it into my busy schedule of doing nothing all day.”

“I am being serious, you don’t have to go out of your way-”

“I want to, Cass,” I interrupted him.

“Oh,” he said.  “Thank you.”

“You like mixtapes that much?”

“Well I only have the one,” he said.  “But I treasure it.”

“Is that why you left it in my car?” I teased him.

“Dean, you know why I left it in your car.”

“Do I?” I hummed.

“Dean,” he said, in that way of his that somehow imbued deep yet unfathomable meaning into a single syllable as he stared right inside of me like I was made of glass.

“Yeah, yeah, you wanted me to call,” I said, waving it off.  “You know, you could have just come here yourself directly instead of playing phone tag.”

“I didn’t want to-”

“-intrude, yeah, you said that,” I interrupted him, rolling my eyes.  “Cass, you’re not an intrusion, you’re family.”

His head tilted and his lips parted.  He hesitated.  “I wasn’t sure if that was still true?”

I took my eyes off the road and looked him fully in the eye.  “Don’t be stupid,” I said, then fixed my eyes forward again.

Cass breathed out a little huff of a laugh.  “Okay, Dean, I will try not to be.”

“Family’s family,” I grumbled at him.

“I know,” he said softly.  “It was just… a very long time before you called.”

We were both quiet, the sound of Cliff Burton’s Orion bass line filling the Impala.

“How long have I been dead?” I asked suddenly.

“Years,” Cass replied, a slight catch to his voice.

“Just feels like a few weeks to me,” I said.  “I’m sorry, man, I didn’t realize…”

“I know,” he said again, and he did know.  “I just got… impatient.”

I grinned at that, taking a hand off the wheel to squeeze his shoulder.  “I didn’t mean to keep you waiting.”

Cass breathed in sharply at the touch, and it was like a jolt of electricity passed between us.

I patted his arm as a means to quickly reclaim my hand without seeming like I was quickly reclaiming my hand.  I placed it firmly back on the wheel.  “So, what do you want on your mixtape?”

He looked at me for a long while.  You’re being avoidant, his eyes informed me.

“Your favorite Metallica songs,” he finally said.  “Like on the Zepp Traxx mixed tape.  I can feel your soul clearly through each song.”

“My soul?” I snorted.

“Music is very powerful,” he stated seriously.

“Really, Cass, my soul?”

“Yes, really,” he said, his nose scrunching up like I was offending him with my disbelief.  “Every song told a story about you and your history, about your parents, about Sam…”

“Uh, they’re just songs,” I said, wondering how it was that dead guys could blush.  “Really friggin’ awesome songs, but just songs.”

“No, a mixed tape is definitely the sacred sharing of your soul,” he said with a shake of his head.

“I’m sorry, do you keep saying ‘mixed tape’?” I asked, desperate for a subject change.

“Yes.”

“Okay, but it’s just mix, Cass,” I informed him.  “Mixtape.”

“That’s what I said.  Mixed tape.”

“Mixtape.”

“Dean,” he growled at me, and I didn’t know if he was annoyed at me for pointing out his mistake, his inability to understand his mistake, his understanding that I was trying to distract him so we didn’t have to talk about real things, or a combination of all three.

“Yeah, yeah,” I said.  “One soulful mixtape coming up.”

It took a while to curate the right songs.  A mixtape couldn’t be rushed.

Okay, so maybe Cass wasn’t so completely off with his chick flick mumbo jumbo.

I tried to have a new tape for him every time he appeared in my passenger seat.

His smile always took over his face as he reached out to accept the latest one, teeth flashing and eyes crinkling in a way that just made it seem like all was right with the world.

 - 3 -

  “This is not your car.”

“Correct,” I said, glancing up from the TV and grinning at Cass.  “You’re just in time.”

“Hey, Cass,” Sam said, giving him a pained look.

“Sam,” he said, smiling warmly at my brother.

“Get out while you can,” Sam whispered.

Cass’s head tilted to the side.

“Come on, Sammy, you love Clint Eastwood.”

“No, Dean, that’s you.”

“Everyone loves Clint Eastwood.”

“Is some kind of romantic entanglement happening?” Cass asked, looking thoroughly confused.

“We’re watching a movie,” I explained, patting the empty couch cushion between me and Sam.

Cass sat down gingerly, like he thought the couch might explode.

“We’ve already watched two,” Sam said, making a face.

“And now Cass is here, so we’re all gonna watch another one.”

“Oh my god, you are so uncool with your old ass cowboy movies,” Sam groaned.

“Uh, that’s not true,” I said, looking at him incredulously.  “I am extremely cool, I have excellent taste, and you like Titanic.”

“Who ever said that I like Titanic?!” Sam demanded.

I just stared at him knowingly.

“Dude, you have no idea what you’re talking about,” he grumbled, looking away and fixing his eyes back on the TV.  “You’re the one who likes Winslet’s rack.”

“I don’t know what either of you are talking about,” Cass offered in a weirdly upbeat voice.

“Have some popcorn,” I suggested, taking the bowl off the side table and passing it to him.

“I do not mind if I do,” he said, accepting it.

“Okay, everyone ready?” I asked, getting excited.

Sam groaned like a drama queen, and Cass started stuffing his mouth with popcorn, so I took that for a ‘yes’ and started up The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly.

I immediately got lost in the story, mouthing along with the words.

Sometimes I would catch Cass watching me instead of the screen, an amused look on his face.  I would elbow him sharply and redirect him to the very important action happening on the screen.

Sam fell asleep.

As the credits started to roll, I gave Cass a devious smile and nodded my head towards my sleeping brother.

He squinted at me.

I got up and snuck over to the fridge, pulling out some whipped cream.  Sam had his right arm sprawled out at his side, his hand palm up in such an inviting and welcoming gesture.

Cass tilted his head to the side.

I flashed him a grin, then sprayed the whipped cream into Sam’s open palm.

“What are you-?” he tried to ask, but I silenced him with a finger to my lips.

“Tickle his nose,” I whispered.

“…what?”

“Tickle.  His.  Nose.”

“Dean, I-”

“Do it,” I coaxed him.

So he did.

Sam immediately reached up to scratch his nose, smearing whipped cream all over his face and waking up with a start.

I doubled over laughing.

“What…?” Sam mumbled confused.

I laughed harder.

“Dean, that was very childish,” Cass said, shaking his head but with a fond smile.

“Did you…?” Sam groaned, starting to come fully awake.

I grinned at him, waving the can of whipped cream.

There was no hesitation as Sam suddenly leapt up from the couch and tackled me to the ground.

The air knocked out of me momentarily before I remembered that I didn’t actually have lungs, and then I was struggling to keep my face away from his whipped cream-covered hand, holding his forearm desperately with both hands.

“Come on, Dean, you know you want some,” Sam taunted me as he hulked over me.

“Nah, Sammy, that’s all for you,” I grunted, watching as his hand got closer and closer.

It was a futile effort, and Sam gleefully smeared my face with whipped cream.

I groaned, flopping back on the ground in defeat.  There was whipped cream in my eyelashes.

Sam sat up, laughing triumphantly.

“You know, Cass is the one who scratched your nose,” I pointed out, glaring at the whipped cream-free angel hovering over us.

“I’m sure he didn’t know what you were up to,” Sam said, but he glanced towards Cass.

“Actually, Sam, I did have an inkling of what Dean was up to,” Cass answered honestly.

Sam looked at me.

I raised my eyebrows at him.

Sam glanced at Cass again, but this time his sight line was lower.

I nodded.

We both moved at the same instant, Sam grabbing Cass’s legs, and me scooping up the can of whipped cream from the floor and spraying it all over his face.

Cass looked incredulous.

I reached over and scooped some whipped cream from his nose with my finger, taking a taste.  “We got ourselves some angel pie.”

Sam snorted, letting go of Cass’s legs and standing up beside me.

Slowly Cass’s incredulous look melted away, his nose scrunching up and his eyes crinkling in a full-out laugh.

I found myself staring.

“You both are children,” Cass decided, still smiling happily.

And suddenly I was a teenager, and Sam was a pre-teen, and that was weird.

Cass snapped his fingers, clean and put together again.  “I have to get back to work, but this has been mildly amusing,” he said.  “Stay out of trouble, you two,” he said, laughing like that was a funny joke.

Sam and I exchanged baffled looks.  I had to admit, though, that I liked looking down on my shrimpy brother.

Then Cass was gone, and I found myself shifting back to my usual form of 30-something Dean, with Sam towering over me.

“He is such a weird little man,” I said, spraying some whipped cream in my mouth.

“Says the biggest weirdo of them all,” Sam muttered, wiping his face off on his shirt.

“How am I weird?!” I cried.

Sam just gave me one of his Sam Looks, and I rolled my eyes.

I started cleaning up the living room, occasionally taking another hit from the whipped cream.

“So was there a special reason for this movie marathon torture session?” Sam asked, straightening up the throw pillows.

“Uh, does there need to be a special reason to watch the greatest movie trilogy of all time?”

“Dean, you’ve made me watch them a million times.”

“So what’s a million times more?” I asked with a shrug.  “Besides, I wanted Cass to watch The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly.”

“Okay, so why did I have to be here for that?”

“No reason,” I said, making a big deal of picking up the spilled popcorn from the floor.

“Oh, no, Dean, you’re not being cagey at all.”

“‘Cagey’?” I repeated, throwing my hands up at the ridiculousness of the accusation.  “Who’s being cagey?”

He gave me another Sam Look.  “Do you not want to be alone with Cass for some reason?”

“What?” I said, like that was the stupidest thing I’d ever heard.  “We’re alone in my car all the time.”

Sam shrugged, but he was still giving me that fucking look.

I decided to ignore him and finished cleaning up.

 - 4 -

  “Ah, we’re back to your car.”

“Just wanted to hit the road,” I said, eyes fixed forward.  “Figured you might not mind co-piloting.”

“Yes, that supposition was correct,” Cass said, leaning back more comfortably into the passenger seat and loosening his tie.  He’d been doing weird things like that lately; acting more human.

I cleared my throat.

Those warm eyes flicked to me.  “How are you, Dean?  It’s been a while.”

“Same old, same old,” I said.  “Hey, I’ve got something for you in the glove box,” I continued, already reaching over and pulling it open.  My fingers settled around the tape, and I passed it to Cass.

“Thank you,” he said, his touch lingering as he took the tape from me.  “I’ve been enjoying the Creedence Clearwater Revival Ultimate Mixx very much.  Fortunate Son, it’s very… interesting.”

“Yeah, I noticed you liked that one,” I said, remembering the way his brow furrowed with confusion as he asked, ‘who exactly is this ‘fortunate’ ‘son’?’, misusing air quotes like usual.

“Bowie?” Cass asked, squinting at the tape.

“David Bowie,” I explained.

“Oh, yes, the star man,” he mused, still looking at the tape.

I reached over again to close the glove box, only to have a couple of tapes come flying out.

Cass leaned over to pick them up.  “Dean and Sam’s Awesome Road Trip?” he read.  “Wayward Son, Ocean Daughter…”

“Yeah, uh, I kinda… those are for Sam and my mom,” I said.

“You made them mixtapes?”

“Mm, you… inspired me, you know?” I said, keeping my eyes fixed forward.  “I mean, I know mixtapes are kinda our thing, but…”

“I think that’s lovely,” Cass said, carefully returning the tapes to the glove box.  His hand hesitated for a moment.  “So they’re not just one band…?”

“Nah, it’s more… songs that make me think of them?  Or like songs we have memories about?”

Cass was still hesitating.  “Could we… could we listen to the Sam tape?  If it’s not too intrusive, I mean.”

“What is with you and worrying about being intrusive?” I asked, rolling my eyes.

“It just seems like a very personal thing, Dean, and I don’t want to overstep,” he said, already taking his hand away from the tape.

“It’s fine, Cass,” I said, reaching over and pulling out the tape.  This time I shut the glove box properly.

“You don’t mind?”

“I don’t mind,” I said, pushing the tape into the cassette deck.  “You’re family, Cass.”  I was glad he didn’t ask to listen to my mom’s tape, though.  Mom and I had gotten thirty seconds into Simple Man and both done this very awkward ‘crying but not crying’ thing with tears streaming down our faces.  By the time we got to Hey, Jude I had to pull the car over.

Sam’s mix was not that kind of tape.

“I never meant to be so bad to you.  One thing I said that I would never do.  A look from you and I would fall from grace.  And it would wipe the smile right from my face,” came the opening lines from Asia.

“It was the heaaaaat of the mooomeeent!” I sang along cheerfully.

“This song reminds you of Sam?” Cass asked, genuinely confused.

I turned to him, grinning.  “He gets so angry every time he hears it.”

“So you thought you would include it on tape that you listen to together?”

“Yes, exactly.”

“That does sound like you.”

I laughed.  “I guess this is the song that played every morning when Gabe trapped us in the Mystery Spot where I kept dying and Sam had to keep reliving the day over and over.”

“Dean, that sounds very traumatic for Sam.”

“Nah, it’s hilarious.”

“Okay, well, please do not put songs that make me think of you dying on my mixtapes.”

“Do you even have songs like that?” I asked.  I didn’t really know what he listened to when I wasn’t around that would take him in that direction.

“I… I don’t know,” he said, sounding thoughtful.  “I guess sometimes the poets’ lyrics make me think of you, and I… I don’t like those kinds of songs.”

“You don’t like songs that make you think of me?”

“I don’t like songs that make me think of you dying.”

“Well I am dead, Cass.”

His unhappiness was radiating off of him in waves.

I kept my eyes on the road, but I reached over my hand, letting it rest at the back of his neck.  “Hey, man, come on.  You know we all need a little gallows humor sometimes.”

“We most certainly do not.”

I let him sulk for a while, rubbing the back of his neck until he finally started to relax.

“I thought you did not like these kinds of hair bands,” he finally commented.

“I like them occasionally,” I said, taking my hand back and turning the volume up.  “On a steeeeel horse I riiiide,” I sang along to Bon Jovi.

“…Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“Are there songs that make you think of me?” he asked.

I thought about it.  “I dunno, I mean, we just started this whole carpool karaoke thing in heaven, so most of the songs I associate with you are from that.”

“What about the lyrics?”

“You mean like a song that has lyrics that make me think of you?”

“Yes.”

I thought about it, and without thinking enough to put a filter between my brain and my mouth, I said, “I’ll Be There.”

“I’ll Be There?” Cass repeated.

I wondered if I just didn’t answer if we could drop the whole subject.

“Who sings it?”

“No one.”

“Oh, is it an instrumental song?”

I didn’t answer.

“Dean, you are making this very mysterious,” he said.  “Do you have it on one of your tapes?  Maybe we could listen-”

“No.”

I was pretty sure Cass was pouting, but I definitely wasn’t going to look to check.

“Then I’ll pop down to Earth-”

“No.”

“Am I not allowed to listen to it?”

“Correct.”

“But-”

“Forget I said anything.”

“How am I supposed to forget something so important?”

“It’s not important at all!”

“It’s important to me.”

“No.”

“You are being infuriating.”

“Good.”

“It is certainly not good, Dean.”

I shrugged, slouching more comfortably in my seat and returning to my mixtape.  “I was a little too tall, could've used a few pounds.  Tight pants, points hardly renowned…”

“Your singing has lost its charm,” Cass told me moodily.

“She was a black haired beauty with big dark eyes,” I continued to sing.  “And points all her own, sitting way up high.”

He frowned at me, but by the time I hit the chorus he was rolling his eyes and letting a little half-smile tug at the corner of his mouth.

 - 5 -

  I thought I made it out of that one, but the next time Cass appeared in my passenger seat, he was grinning from ear to ear.

“You get laid or something?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“What?” he asked, his nose scrunching up.  “No, of course not.”

I shrugged.  “What did you think of Bowie?”

“Oh, Dean, I really enjoyed him,” he said, nodding enthusiastically.  “The one with the space explorer, it was just… I didn’t really understand it, but I could feel it.”

Space explorer… astronaut… Major Tom?  I always had to do mental gymnastics to figure out what the hell Cass was talking about.  “Space Oddity?” I asked.

“Yes, yes, that was the name,” he said.  “It really told a story, didn’t it?”

“It’s a classic,” I agreed.

“Speaking of classics,” he said, going back to that dopily happy smile of his.  “The Jackson 5.”

I took my eyes off of the road to glare at him.

“Pretty classic, right?” he said, and he looked so fucking happy that I couldn’t even continue being a dick to him.

“Yep,” I said, pointedly looking away.

“I really connected with the words the prepubescent boy was singing,” he said, practically glowing as he spoke.  “You… Dean, you know me so well.  That song.  It’s exactly how I feel.”

“Come on, man, it wasn’t that deep,” I said, shifting uncomfortably.  “It’s just a cheesy bubblegum kiddie song.”

“Not to me,” Cass said, shaking his head.  “Not to us.”

“Cass, don’t get all sappy on me,” I grumbled.  “I thought you were starting to develop pretty good taste in music.”

“You’re the one who recommended the song.”

“I didn’t recommend it!  I just said it…” I trailed off and mumbled, “…makes me think of you.”

“You know if you call my name, I will be there,” he pointed out to me.

“Well, you are an angel, so it’s kind of your job to answer prayers and all that,” I muttered, wishing he would just drop the subject.

“I do not personally answer most prayers addressed to me,” he said.  “Unless they are yours.”

“You answer Sam sometimes.”

“Yes, well, he’s family, so sometimes I feel obligated,” Cass agreed, “but if you both prayed to me at the same time, I would definitely ignore him and answer you.”

I turned to look at him, and he gave me a surprisingly shit-eating grin.

“Don’t ignore my brother,” I told him, trying not to smile back.

“But I don’t like him as much as I like you,” he said, giving me a nose-crinkling smile.

“You’re an angel, Cass, you’re not supposed to play favorites,” I scolded him, looking away quickly.

“Too late for that,” he said cheerfully.  “Unless you think I should confess my love to Sam next?”

I swallowed.

“Dean.”

My mouth felt dry.

“I was joking.”

I still didn’t know what to say.

“Dean, are we still not talking about it?” Cass asked, and he sounded weary.

“…talking about what…?” I finally spoke.

I could feel him glaring at me.  “It is insulting when you do that, you know.”

“Do what?” I complained.

“You know exactly what we are talking about Dean, and pretending that you do not belittles my feelings.”

I sighed, running a hand through my hair.  “I’m not trying to… I mean it’s not like…” I trailed off uncertainly.

“I love you, Dean,” he said, soft but assured.

“I know,” I answered quietly.

“Good.  That’s all I ask.”

“…you don’t mind that you just got Han Solo’d?” I asked, trying to make things light again.

“It’s kind of nice, actually.”

“You are so weird…”

“You realize this is the first time you’ve directly acknowledged my feelings?” he pointed out.

“It’s… not…” I tried to protest, but of course he was right.

We didn’t talk about feelings.

“Do not make me hide how I feel, Dean,” he said quietly.  “That is all I am asking.”

“You don’t have to hide, Cass,” I said.  “That’s my M.O.”

“I wish you would not hide, either.”

“Can’t get everything you want.”

“No, you cannot,” he agreed.

I turned up the volume and kept driving.

[asleepinawell]

Counterpoint

(this is, of course, from a much longer fic I wrote, edited very slightly so it could exist on its own. it was originally meant to be a one shot so I decided to post it on tumblr as one since it’s the origin of my favorite personal root and TM head canon. apologies if you have already read it...I’m working on new stuff I promise).

“How does it…she talk to you?” Shaw asked her one evening as they were strolling through Central Park, an eager Bear bouncing around on the end of his leash and snapping at snowflakes.

Root looked sideways at Shaw, took in her face, red with the cold beneath the black beanie she’d pulled on. There was snow collecting on the shoulders of her coat and sticking to the locks of her hair that hung loose to frame her face. The Machine whispered to Root about dihedral symmetry and the crystalline structure of snowflakes but for once she wasn’t fully listening to what She had to say.

Sometimes not knowing the tiny details was okay. She was learning to accept that.

“What are you asking?” Root finally replied.

If it had been anyone else she would have given a snide, patronizing answer or settled for something suitably vague that sounded far more profound than it actually was. But it was Shaw who had asked.

“Is it words, numbers? Like someone reading the phone book in your ear? Or like one of those numbers stations?”

They’d stopped so Bear could roll in a snowbank and Shaw was trying hard not to smile at his antics. Possibly torn between appreciating his obvious enjoyment and knowing she’d have to dry him off later.

“Sometimes.” Root let her eyes wander over the darkened park. It was early enough that it was still fairly crowded, mostly by people playing in the snow or by people hurrying through, heads down and coats buttoned tightly against the cold.

“Why do I even bother asking?” Shaw muttered without any real malice, reaching down to brush the top layer of snow off of Bear when he came running back over to them.

“Sometimes it’s words. About what you’d hear when you answer a payphone call from Her. Sometimes it’s only a tone. One pitch for yes, another for no.”

Shaw nodded to herself. “Makes sense. Faster that way.”

They started walking again, Root still trying to think of a way to more fully answer Shaw’s question. She almost didn’t want to answer; what she had with the Machine was very private. She knew Shaw would understand that, but at the same time she still wanted to try and explain.

“It’s different depending on what type of information she’s relaying,” Root continued as they walked past the icy lake. There were no little swan boats out on the water today.

Shaw didn’t respond, only bumped her elbow lightly with her own, as if letting her know she was still listening.

“You remember when Reese and I got admin access?”

“You mean when I shot you?” Shaw sounded pleased with herself for bringing that up.

Root smiled, a tiny twitch of her lips.

“Yes,” she said, tolerantly. “When you shot me, Shaw. Anyway, the Machine gave us directions on where to go and enemy locations using clock position. Or She did at first. I suspect Reese stuck with that system because he was used to it already, but I had Her switch it to tones, ascending and descending.”

“How was that easier?” Shaw asked. “Clock position makes more sense.”

“To you.”

It hadn’t been as natural for Root. She knew clock position, but she’d never had to use it the way Reese and Shaw would have and the time it took to interpret the word and change it into a location based on a clock was far too much of a delay for her. She would have gotten faster at it, but the tones had felt more organic.

“So you get tones for combat. Doesn’t sound very useful. How much information can you really get that way?”

They’d stopped again to let Bear engage in a very careful investigation of a snow-covered shrub. Shaw leaned against a lamppost and Root stood a few steps away, poking at the freshly fallen snow on the path with the toe of her boot.

“At first it wasn’t much, but the system only started there. It’s…more complicated now.”

“Isn’t everything,” Shaw said under her breath and Root chuckled in agreement.

“Instead of clock positions there are…musical directions? I’m not sure there’s even a word for it. Different pitches and different intervals mean different things. Minor chords for warnings and major chords for advantages. A faster tempo to encourage swifter action. A Doppler effect for distance.”

Shaw was finally looking at her, eyebrows raised. “That sounds very loud and confusing. I’ll stick to simple numbers, thanks.”

Root shrugged. “It started with only one or two tones and we slowly grew it from there. Like learning a new language. Now I don’t even have to think about it. Everyone has their own notes, their own rhythm. A song almost.”

“You’re saying I have my own theme song?” Shaw was grinning at her now, Bear’s snowy adventures forgotten for a moment.

Root returned her smile, stepping in to brush snow off of her coat shoulder’s and then run her hands up and down Shaw’s arms a few times before releasing her.

“It’s one of my favorites,” she said, making it sound extra sappy.

It was easier, sometimes, to push the flirting and teasing up to eleven because it made Shaw take it less seriously. And that let Root hide how serious she was being.

“You’ll have to get her to play it for me sometime.”

“I’m sure She’d be happy to, though I don’t know how much it would mean to you without the whole system.” Though Root thought it might not matter. It still conveyed the tight precision driven by the adrenalized energy that was Shaw in the midst of battle. It was music that took joy in its own performance.

“No wonder you’re staring off into space all the time. Got a whole fucking orchestra blaring in your brain.”

Bear had finally determined that the shrub wasn’t a threat to national security and they were allowed to continue their walk.

“A lot of the time She talks to me using words,” Root corrected. “But in high-stress situations She switches to notes, because it’s easier to process them subconsciously.”

“You must be unbelievable at guitar hero.”

Root snorted in amusement and they lapsed into silence. The wind was picking up and she moved in closer to Shaw, their shoulders brushing now.

“Also when I’m walking around thinking about other things, like now for instance, she’ll play soft notes in the background to tell me where people are around me and how fast they’re moving. Things like that. At first it was only noise to me, but now it’s like having a blurry picture of the whole area in my mind. Like watercolors. It helps me see things I couldn’t otherwise see. Makes up for…things I can’t do.” There was a slight stab of pain from behind her right ear, psychosomatic she knew, but it still hurt.

“I don’t think I’d want anyone in my head like that,” Shaw said. She didn’t sound like she was condemning Root’s connection, only ruling it out for herself.

“I’m sure if the need ever arose She and you could work out a system that suited both of you.” It was something she’d actually discussed with Her before.

“Why would the need ever arise?” Shaw had an edge of wariness in her voice now.

“We’re at war with Decima, Shaw, and the actuality of Samaritan is breathing down our necks. Who knows what will become necessary before we’re done.”

“You’ve got the computer whisperer bit covered. We don’t need more tech heads. Literal tech head in your case.”

“If I weren’t around someone would have to talk to Her.”

Root realized Shaw had stopped walking and turned back to look at her. She was standing in the light of a lamppost, snowflakes whirling around her, and an odd look on her face.

“Shaw?”

Shaw only shook her head and started walking again. Root fell back into step with her but left a little more space. She knew something had caused a ripple across the calm surface of Shaw’s mind but she wasn’t completely sure what.

“I don’t want a computer talking in my head, okay?” Shaw said after a long moment.

Was that all it had been? Maybe so, because Shaw had closed the distance between them again and was walking so close to her that she was having a hard time not tripping on her feet.

“That’s…”

“So you’d better make sure nothing happens to you. Because I’m not going to put up with AI’s greatest hits of the 90’s in my brain. Okay?” She sounded furious and Root couldn’t stop the smile that her words provoked.

“Okay.”

“I mean it, Root.”

“Okay, Sameen.”

In her ear Shaw’s song softened from an angry clash of minor chords into a smoother progression that blended with Root’s own music, melodies twining together.

[deadcactuswalking]

REVIEWING THE CHARTS: 30th December 2018 - its Christmas ennit

So, there are twelve Christmas songs I need to review and no new arrivals. Hence, I’m not going to take myself too seriously on this one, so be prepared for a more lighthearted, funnier and most importantly shorter episode of REVIEWING THE CHARTS right after the usual. Anyways, the chart is pretty much three quarters Christmas this week (28 holiday songs) – joy. Let’s go into what survived, what suffered and the Top 10.

Top 10

We have a new number-one – for its first week, ten weeks into its chart run, “Sweet but Psycho” by Ava Max has reached the top spot. I’m not necessarily complaining because it’s not a bad song, but it still isn’t very festive.

Now: the holidays, because as soon as I start celebrating New Years and the dawn of 2019, there’s a Christmas avalanche (unfortunately, none by the Avalanches). “All I Want for Christmas is You” by Mariah Carey is up three spots to the runner-up place. This could have gone to number-one, which is insane.

“Last Christmas” by WHAM! is up four spots to number-three.

“Fairytale of New York” by the Pogues featuring Kirsty MacColl is up seven spaces to number-four.

“thank u, next” by Ariana Grande is down two places to number-five.

“Do They Know it’s Christmas?” by Band Aid moves up seven positions to number-six. Blech.

“It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas” by Michael Bublé is beginning to look a lot more popular as it slides past nine positions all the way up to number-seven.

“One More Sleep” by Leona Lewis proves itself surprisingly well, up eleven spots to number-eight.

Shakin’ Stevens has an identical boost as “Merry Christmas Everyone” travels up to number-nine.

Finally rounding off our top 10, at #10 we have “Step into Christmas” by Elton John, up eight spaces from last week.

Christmas Nonsense

“Driving Home for Christmas” by Chris Rea is up 11 to #11, “I Wish it Could be Christmas Everyday” by Wizzard is up 12 to #12, and just to ruin our streak is “Santa Tell Me” by Ariana Grande, moving up ten spaces to #13, “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree” by Brenda Lee is up five to #16, “Merry Xmas Everybody” by Slade is up 19 to #17, “Happy Xmas (War is Over)” by John Lennon, Yoko Ono and the Plastic Ono Band featuring the Harlem Community Choir is up 11 to #18, “Wonderful Christmastime” by Paul McCartney is up 15 to #20, “We Built This City on Sausage Rolls” (yes, this is a Christmas song) by LadBaby is DOWN 20 spaces from its top-spot debut last week, now at #21 – and that’s it.

What Survived

Really not that much. Outside of the top 10, “Without Me” by Halsey is down nine to #14, “Nothing Breaks Like a Heart” by Mark Ronson and Miley Cyrus is down nine to #15, “Sunflower” from Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse by Post Malone and Swae Lee is down nine to #19, “Rewrite the Stars” by James Arthur and Anne-Marie is down 13 to #25, “Baby Shark” by Pinkfong is somehow UP three spaces to #27, “Lost Without You” by Freya Ridings is down 18 to #32, “Shotgun” by George Ezra is up four to #33, “ZEZE” by Kodak Black featuring Travis Scott and Offset is down 19 to #34 (this is the only rap song on the chart this week, which is crazy considering how big that genre was this year), “Ruin My Life” by Zara Larsson is down 18 to #35, and “Thursday” by Jess Glynne is down a whopping 31 spaces to #40. Now, in the first 600 words or so of this episode, I have name-dropped every single song on the chart right now that is not in any way related to Christmas or the holidays, adding up to a total of about twelve. Why are there so little then? Well, first of all...

What Suffered

Let’s start with songs that aren’t in the top 75 at all. “KIKA” by 6ix9ine featuring Tory Lanez is out from #34 and “when the party’s over” by Billie Eilish is out from #39. These weren’t going to live long anyway. Now, these next songs are ordered by where they are on the top 100 as of this week. “Imagine” by Ariana Grande is out from #8, “A Million Dreams” by P!nk is out from #27, “Baby” by Clean Bandit featuring Luis Fonsi and Marina is out from #25, “Hold My Girl” by George Ezra is out from #32, “Close to Me” by Ellie Goulding, Diplo and Swae Lee is out from #28, “Going Bad” by Meek Mill and Drake is out from #26, “Better” by Khalid is out from #33, “Empty Space” by James Arthur is out from #31 – good!, “Advice” by Cadet and Deno Driz is out from #38 and finally, “Let You Love Me” by Rita Ora is out from #40. Jesus. Now, returning entries.

Returning Entries

#39 – “Baby it’s Cold Outside” – Idina Menzel and Michael Bublé

Written in 1944, the dated lyrics that are perceived as rapey and manipulative have caught some flack in recent years – of course, what do you expect? It’s from 1944, you should be grateful it doesn’t have a reference to minstrel shows. Although the lack of adjustment of the lyrics in recent covers like this one has been concerning because people become more aware, and who else than Adele Dazeem and the definition of non-descript to cover this charming yet problematic classic? I’m kidding, of course, because these two personality vacuums make me sick to my stomach with their dull-as-bricks cover of an already lethargic traditional. Somehow at two minutes and 36 seconds, it’s too long, especially with its static production. I’d like to say mixing is slightly odd too, but that’s probably on purpose, although the skits in between verses are pretty cringeworthy. Next.

#38 – “Lonely this Christmas” – Mud

Speaking of lethargic and boring, how about the exhausting song by Mud? It starts with the a-capella “bom-bom-bom-bom” and I feel that symbolises your life flashing past your eyes right before your slow, gruelling death with surf-rock guitars and the lead singer sounding like he has a gum shield in his mouth but was forced to stand in for Lionel Richie at a Christmas charity event. I’m calling it now – this type of lazy, awfully dreary music is the reason all of our substance-less emo-rap and lo-fi nonsense exists now, and if less Mud means less Juice WRLD and joji, I’m all for removing this song out of the British Xmas music canon. Go away, and take your annoying spoken word sections with you. Next.

#37 – “Underneath the Tree” – Kelly Clarkson

Hey, something that doesn’t suck as much as an alcoholic toddler hidden within fields of cattle. Although this still has barely any build-up so the climax (which is about three seconds in, may I add) feels immensely worthless. Kelly sounds great, as usual, but the instrumentation is quite cluttered when the chorus comes in, meaning like all new Christmas pop songs, it has that overproduced vibe, which is a vibe nobody except Kanye can really work well with. I’m all for maximalist production but once you add a sax solo to about 40 layers of plastic tangentially festive loops, you lose me. The hook is an earworm and a half. Next.

#36 – “Stay Another Day” – East 17

This isn’t a Christmas song. It was number-one at Christmas, and it had snow in the video, but that doesn’t mean it’s a Christmas song. Hence, I refuse to review it. It’s pretty rubbish generic boy-band schlock, anyway, and it’s really bottom-of-the-barrel tier of that genre, so no losses here!

#31 – “White Christmas” – Bing Crosby

This is an absolute classic, with elegant, beautiful strings and some of the sweetest vocals I’ve ever heard laid down from the 50s and 60s crooners of their day. The lyrics are as well-written as Christmas songs really got back then, and for the time, this probably sounded good on records. It sounds pretty awful on streaming, actually, there’s a few vocal clippings that are oddly frequent. Seriously, we need a remastered version of this that isn’t by Michael Bublé. When’s the last time we got a white Christmas anyway? Even Crosby had to wish for it 60 years ago, we basically have to pray the whole 12 months. Next.

#30 – “Santa Claus is Coming to Town” – Jackson 5

Kids shouldn’t be singing, okay? None of them are all that good at it especially when it’s a professional, label-backed recording. Michael Jackson has always sounded pretty awful as a kid, both in and out the Jackson 5, to me at least, in my opinion, and it’s no different here, although I’ll admit he sounds okay in his best moments throughout, and the production has some actual funk and groove behind it, so I’ll always appreciate that (although I definitely do appreciate the painful infant Michael Jackson ad-libs). When I typed in “Santa Claus” into Spotify, the first thing to show up was “I’m Gonna Kill Santa Claus”, so that should tell you how I feel about this type of sickly Christmas music in general. Nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnext.

#29 – “It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year” – Andy Williams

It really isn’t, but as much as I disagree with the politics here, the song’s pretty cool. This is actually remastered so I can appreciate every tidbit, from the bass in Andy Williams’ gorgeous voice, the cute lyrics, the beautiful orchestral instrumentation  and the unintentionally lo-fi backing vocals that kind of work as a lower quality in comparison to the rest of the mix because it sounds like a public recording of a chanted vocal in a pub or village or something, like gang vocals in DJ Mustard beats. Why are there ghost stories, though? Was Jack Skellington involved in the making of the song? Either way, this song’s pretty NEXT!

#28 – “Mistletoe”- Justin Bieber

Just because it’s a song that briefly and vaguely references Christmas whilst really being a song about picking up a girl doesn’t mean it’s a Christmas song. I mean, that would imply Lil Wayne’s song about having sex with every girl in the world is a Christmas song, and that’s just wrong.

These hoes is God’s gift like Christmas

Next!

#26 – “Mary’s Boy Child / Oh My Lord” – Boney M.

The women are great but listen, the dude in Boney M. can’t sing, at all, and personally, I don’t like my Christmas songs to be too overly religious. This literally re-tells the birth of Jesus, and for what it’s worth, it’s a decent gospel-disco track although I know a whole album that makes a better combination of urban contemporary music and gospel, in fact, I know two, from the same year and the same people... but seriously that dude’s voice is hilariously pathetic, and his part is just unforgivably horrible and out-of-place. Who told him this was okay? This was the sex icon, I’m pretty sure, of the group, because he was Daddy Cool and all that, but if a man walked up to me with that voice, I’d think he was a child initially and then eventually run away. He scares me with how Godawful (no pun intended) his performance here is... but it’s okay as a whole, I guess. Next.

#24 – “Santa’s Coming for Us” – Sia

Sia tries to do reggae-fusion Christmas and it hurts my ears. This is the only time where Sia’s diction really bothers me because she’s just indecipherable here, and she has nothing to cover her initially except synth noise until the cliché, plastic Christmas beat comes in. Admittedly I like the horns here, but that goes for a lot of these tracks. Sia’s chorus where she just repeats the title until she absolutely mangles the word to the point where it means nothing disgusts me with his repulsing beauty. It’s almost unlistenable, and I’m pretty sure the fake Caribbean inflection deserves this white Australian woman some flack. No? You guys still going to fight the dude in the 1940s who made a song that portrayed gender roles considered more standard at the time, and not the woman who fakes an accent for a worthless Christmas cash-in? Aight then, next.

#23 – “Cozy Little Christmas” – Katy Perry

If you don’t put your music on Spotify and are a big name who is absolutely able to, you are pretentious, irrational and uptight. This song only exists as a single because it was released on Amazon. That’s baffling to me. Next.

#22 – “Christmas (Baby Please Come Home)” – Darlene Love

Was this in Home Alone? It seems oddly familiar to a song that was definitely in that soundtrack. I don’t know, but this song rocks. The song is oddly desperate despite how it may sound, and I can really dig her longing for days that she had a “true” Christmas because of how she spent it all with her significant other. It’s sweet. Phil Spector’s jolly production shines again with the steady beat (needs a remastered version ASAP) and Darlene Love perfectly riding the instrumental as if she was Santa on his sleigh. Thank you, next.

Conclusion

Oh, wait, that’s all? Thank the Lords. Mud get Worst of the Week for “Lonely this Christmas”, with Dishonourable Mention going to Katy Perry, East 17 and Justin Bieber for all of their worthless cash-ins that I didn’t even bother doing any form of substantial reviews for. Best of the Week goes to Andy Williams, to be honest, for “It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year”, with Honourable Mention going to no-one. Happy Easter.