#still waiting for the third one + cassette

[fandomonetwo]

ain't no sunshine — steve harrington

▸summary: steve just wants cuddles. and he'll play the song on repeat until he gets them.

▸characters: steve harrington x gn!reader

▸tw: tooth. rotting. FLUFF

▸a/n: i did not die. have some happy words.

HE MUST'VE HAD the song downloaded four-hundred times on his cassette tape, because you were just about ready to bash your head in when the beginning notes played from Steve's bedroom. 

Ain't no sunshine when she's gone, it's not warm when she's away.

You were in the living room, finishing up some writings that you had due for your classes when you gazed unamused at the ceiling. He'd been playing the song on repeat, singing along badly in order to coax you into giving him some love and affection as you always did on a Tuesday afternoon. Unfortunately, this deadline was currently taking priority, and Steve was being a drama queen about it. 

You still had about four pages to write, as well as some questions to answer before anything else took over your mind, so you had to suffer. 

Ain't no sunshine when she's gone, and she's always gone too long, anytime she goes away.

You'd practically memorised the words and melody to this song, mouthing them with good ol' Bill Withers as he provided sustenance to feed Steve's dramatics. You could hear Steve's faux grieving voice as he sang along, making the song a whole heap more dramatic than the original recording. 

Wonder this time where she's gone, wonder if she's gonna stay.

Trying to persevere through the loud stereo blasting muffled music above your head is a lot more difficult than you might imagine. Ever since you had gone to his place in a tizzy that you had things to do before a deadline and couldn't afford any distractions, you had banished him to his room, and for about an hour, had some quiet. 

That changed when the second hour became the third, and the music started when the sun began to go down, reeling on loop as though it was a broken record. 

Ain't no sunshine when she's gone, and this house just ain't no home, any time she goes away.

You smiled slightly, though. For all of Steve's dramatics and ridiculous behaviours, he loved you, and you loved him. All of his quirks made him special to you, and you loved to be with him no matter what was happening around the world, especially when the whole Upside Down thing began catching up to him, mentally and physically. Now, he was a cuddly baby that loved hugging you. He always said that he felt safer to sleep in your arms. 

And I know, I know, I know, I know...

He must've given up on singing, because Steve's voice could no longer be heard. Probably ran out of oxygen. Good. He needed to rest after the whole Russian situation. You only had one page left to write and a few more questions to do before you could give your Steve what he needed so desperately. 

A hug. And a fat nap.

You sighed as the tape continued playing the bridge, scrawling your pencil over the paper. You had started with gorgeous cursive, and had evolved into writing chicken scratch to speed up the time. Two questions down, half a page to go...

Hey, I ought to leave the young thing alone, but ain't no sunshine when she's gone.

Three lines, two sentences, aaaaand...

Done.

Throwing the pencil down and thudding the book shut, you pushed yourself to a standing position, practically bounding up the stairs, dragging yourself up by the handrails. 

Ain't no sunshine when she's gone, only darkness everyday.

You came to the first floor landing, stepping onto the carpeted floor with your socked feet and beelined for Steve's room. The door was shut, but Bill's soothing voice carried through the wood, almost getting impossibly loud as you inched closer. 

Ain't no sunshine when she's gone, and this house just ain't no home, any time she goes away.

Stepping into the room as you swing open the door, the final outro of the song is echoing through, fading away. You smile to find Steve on his back, staring at the ceiling as he waits for the next loop to begin. 

You are silent as you halt the tape, crawling onto the bed and giving him a big ol' smooch. He looks at you with innocent and wide eyes, a big fat smile settling on his face. 

"All done?" he asks. 

You nod, confirming. "All done."

You yelp as he flings himself at you, wrapping his arms around your waist and tumbling over the other side of the bed. He's quick to bring the covers over you both, leaving the bed side light on. A new habit, but it didn't bother you. 

You tussled for a little, finding a comfortable position that agreed with all parties and bones. You settled on bear hugging him as he tangled your legs together and kept his nose near your hair. 

You giggled, running your nails down his back. "You big baby." 

He grumbled. "Ain't no sunshine when you're not here."

[passportclown]

heyyy I saw that you write for Transformers.. you didnt say which transformers though so Ill assume all? just ignore this if not.

could you write something for G1 Soundwave and Starscream both liking the same human reader? headcanons pls

Oh hi!! Yes, I write for all Transformers. I haven't watched them all but for any request I'd research the specific characters to write them as accurate as possible.

You didn't specify if you wanted angsty, lighthearted, etc.. so I'll go with G1 goofiness mixed with my own style. Nor did you specify romantic or platonic. But I think it's Romantic? I couldn't tell if the reader was into them both as well.. so I tried my own approach! If this isn't right, re-send an ask (if you want)! o.o Headcanons below!

Warnings: Kidnapping (but it's not taken too seriously) , slight ignorance towards human comfort and physical limitations , slightly forced relationship but it's ambiguous as to whether it's platonic yearning or romantic yearning , maybe slight yandere?? My Kofi if you feel like tipping!

Soundwave:

Well, you must have done something to get this con's attention. But now you've got it, and you're very much unlikely to lose it.

Soundwave likes to think he's calm and smart.

He's got his cassettes, he's got his position, he's got Lord Megatron.. everything's good.

He never assumed that he'd want a human as well.

And yet, he does.

He treats it as a simple desire to ignore. Like how humans crave chocolate but ignore it and get salad instead.

Well, at least, that's what he thought humans did. He soon found out that it's hard to ignore such cravings.

He couldn't stop thinking of you. So, he'd send out Ravage or Lazerbeak to watch you. Just so he could understand his strange desire further.

It didn't make sense, but he wanted you.

He watched, and admired the little things about you. But then.. one of his Cassettes informed him that Starscream was watching you as well.

He had even taken you in the recent fight..

Soundwave couldn't have that.

Starscream:

You must be quite the organic for Starscream of all Decepticons to like you.

Of course, he'd ignore his feelings at first. Or assume it's his clearly genius processor formatting some sort of plan involving an organic squishy.

But alas, he truly likes you.

Once he realizes his feelings, he denies them insistently. No way does he like a human! They're small, weak, easily crushed but..

Also cute.

He's a very rash individual. What he wants, he gets.

And he wants you.

He doesn't immediately jump into it, of course.

That'd be desperate.

He ignores the stares he gets from others, particularly Soundwave, convincing himself it was paranoia. He was being very careful!

No, he watches.. and waits..

And at the perfect moment, with you struggling to run in the midst of a Decepticon attack..

Well, who would notice if he just hid you in his cockpit?

Small ficlet:

Starscream got you to stop struggling from his affection.

Now you sat still in one hand as the other roughly pet you. He didn't quite have the hang of it, almost pulling out your hair and tugging at your clothes. His metallic hand would pat your head, then roughly slide down and grip your body. Over and over, in a repetitive motion.

He had a nasty grin, you couldn't quite tell what he was feeling but he was certainly pleased.

It's not that he's unattractive or anything, for a giant alien robot.. he is! But you were trying to avoid getting stepped on and he shoved you in a cramped space, shook you around as he walked, jostled you as he flew, and now he's roughly petting you.

Then.. Starscream jolts as the door opens.

"Starscream: Explain" A more robotic voice speaks, though it sounds as if it's accompanied by some sort of auto-tune. He really does speak like a robot constantly making a report. The Third in Command of the Decepticons, Soundwave. It's impossible to tell with his mask, but you suspect he's displeased.

"Wh- Soundwave! Why didn't you knock!? I am your superior-" Starscream yelps when Soundwave slams his hand against the wall, leaning over Starscream and prying into his mind.

There's a brief moment of absolute tension. Then Soundwave pulls back, and stares down at you. He pries you from Starscream's tight grip, attempting to be as gentle as possible. Starscream grunts, and glares at Soundwave.

"..I presume you'll be reporting this incident to Megatron and getting rid of the fleshy?" Starscream asks with a snarl, trying to pretend you mean much less to him than you actually do.

But Soundwave got enough of a read of his emotions from that peek into his mind.

"Soundwave: Might. Unless.." Soundwave continues, then leans forward once more and dangles you in front of Starscream like bait.

It works.

"Unless what?!" Starscream squawks, unable to keep up his uncaring and confident facade for more than a moment.

Soundwave stares, but not at Starscream this time.

At you.

Even you can tell through his red visor, seeing a brief flicker of light, that he's staring right at you.

"Starscream: Will share human with Soundwave."

-

That was the start of an odd situation.

Starscream didn't know as much about taking care of humans as he thought he did.

Soundwave got you a more comfortable place to rest, food, water, everything you need.

Of course, neither Decepticon let you leave.

They would routinely swap you between their respective spaces.

Starscream hated it, and Soundwave tolerated it.

But if Soundwave just took you, Starscream would make trouble.

And if Starscream kept you, Soundwave would report him.

So they're at an impasse.

And you're in the middle.

It's not all bad.

You think in some.. weird alien robot way that they both love you?

Maybe not exactly romantically, but close enough that they both want to keep and hold you.

They listen to you well enough, as long as you use honeyed words with Starscream and speak more pragmatically with Soundwave.

It's a decent exchange for them, and a new but tolerable change for you.

You might be a pet, or maybe some odd flavor of partner, maybe just a friend. It's hard to tell. But at least you don't pay rent.

I really hope you liked this. 🥺

[deanbrainrotwritings]

— SEMPITERNAL

SUMMARY : part II of gimme half. vanilla is a basic flavour. but sometimes it’s just the right thing for mornings like this.  

PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : none

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), p in v, smut, unprotected sex, fluff

WORD COUNT : 2.2k

A/N : bring me the horizon song title. ah, the second day of January, getting closer to Dean’s bday, it will be the best day of my life or the worst. I have ocd (so does my mom) so idk what’s normal lmao Xxxx

It must have all been a dream. 

She would never go to her neighbour’s house. Not when they were supposed to hate each other. Not when it was freezing cold. Not at night. Not close to Christmas…

He was very pretty though, in her dreams. Still, so pretty. Irresistible. Hot. Frustrating. Adorable. A million lovely things. It felt very real. So real. 

His lips. All pink, warm, soft, and sweet. His hands. Rough, warm, calloused, and skilful. His skin. Freckled, covered in scars, tattooed, hot. God… she wanted that in reality, too. To feel it against every inch of her skin once more. She especially wanted what’s between his legs. 

Were her sheets always this cold? This thin and… not downy at all? 

If she could return to her dream. That would be nice. Making friends with her enemy, Dean… Well, making love is more what it was. Very rough, desperate, hot love. 

She grumbled sleepily, lifting the sheet up her body. Trying to get her arms warm, to stop the cold from getting through the openings. Something stopped her, something hard behind her, and she didn’t want to wake up. 

And wait… why was the window in the opposite direction? 

She rubbed her bleary eyes and looked around the unfamiliar room, the beige and white bed sheets that were definitely not hers. The pictures and posters on the walls were unfamiliar…

She sat up on the bed slowly and twisted her body cautiously to peek at whoever was sleeping beside her. 

Her eyes widened, her jaw dropped slightly. 

Dean. 

She shut her mouth and smiled, trying not to laugh at the events that occurred the night before. They were definitely not a dream. For her bravery, she deserved a treat. Maybe six.

He really did look pretty. 

Those muscular arms holding his pillow, skin freckled and lightly tanned. The sheets clung tightly to his hips, that tiny, narrow waist of his. So jealous. And… oh, God, he wasn’t wearing anything. 

His lips were parted slightly, pink and swollen from sleep, maybe from all the kissing they were doing the previous night. He had the prettiest lashes, so long, thick, curled naturally. What even was he? Those gorgeous freckles scattered across his nose and cheeks. His messy hair looked so soft. 

Peaceful. Relaxed. 

The sunlight made him look even more divine. Honey and gold, a verdant forest, a soft flower in a meadow. Springtime in the winter. That was Dean.

She looked around his room, she was completely naked. Some warm clothes and fluffy socks to keep the cold at bay would be nice. 

She opened his drawer to look for some socks, sliding the top drawer out. She blinked at the contents inside. A vibrating cock ring stood out from the other things inside, in rose pink. She chuckled. There were a few candy wrappers, jolly ranchers, unused condoms in the front, a steel gun over books. Cute. There were old movie tickets, a Bob Seger cassette tape, Crime and Punishment, Persuasion, The Lord of the Rings, and 11/22/63. He’s so hot.

She closed it quietly and opened the second one. One half had perfectly folded, plain black t-shirts and the other half had only white t-shirts. She pulled out a black shirt from the top and put it on carefully. She took a deep breath of the scent of the softener that remained and sighed. Yum.

She opened the third and final one. Finally socks. They were neatly organised, folded, tightly fitting in rows and columns. Blue penguin socks caught her attention, but so did the pink ones with otters, the purple ones with avocados, and the green ones with giraffes. Could he get any more endearing?

She picked the boring black ones at the back. What if the fun socks were special to him? 

She got out of his bed, walking quietly across his very cute bedroom, and into the bathroom. His very clean bathroom. 

She looked at her reflection in the mirror. Thank God for the shower she took with Dean last night. No raccoon face from her eyeliner this morning. But she was definitely sore. Good sore. 

He’s so… hospitable. And a billion other things, too many lovely things to list. She laughed quietly to herself, turning the water on in the sink to wash her face. 

Maybe she shouldn’t get too ahead of herself with these thoughts and feelings. Last night was fast, blurry, heated, and emotional. Things could change, she knew that better than anyone. Morning clarity. After sex clarity? Who knows.  

It would be impossible not to have marks over her body after the night they had. She turned the water off, gently shook her hands in the sink, and used the shirt to pat her face dry. Curiously, she kept the shirt up, and stared down at her body. 

There were bruises on her hips the shape of his fingers. And Reddish-purplish marks on her breasts, sternum, and stomach, even higher up on her collarbone. There were bite marks on her shoulders that stung to touch-

“Sorry about those,” Dean’s raspy morning voice made her jump. She dropped the shirt and crossed her arms over her chest, smiling timidly at Dean. She didn’t know why. After the hot night they had together, being seen naked the next morning should be the last thing to make her this flustered. 

“I’m not getting in the way of your secret escape, am I?” He changed the subject, teasingly smirking at her. He pushed himself off the doorframe. Unfortunately, he was wearing a soft grey robe tied loosely around his waist, some grey slippers, and his hair was a cute-slash-sexy mess. 

“No…” she replied softly, running her fingers through her somewhat messy hair. It still felt wet… maybe she should have stopped Dean from throwing her into his bed after their shower, but he seemed more than thrilled to bury his face between her legs. God, that stubble on his jaw felt amazing between her sensitive thighs. 

“Good,” he mumbled tiredly, smiling down at her. 

He was irresistible. She could already feel heat forming between her legs, wetness seeping from her entrance, and her heart pound quickly in the casket of bones the closer he got. 

Maybe it was those pretty green eyes of his, the burning fire in his gaze simmering deep within the golden specks. He checked her out from head to toe slowly, shamelessly, devouringly. Why would he have any shame after the night they had?

Her body reacted to him embarrassingly fast. Like two atoms, she ached to be fused together with him. Being in his presence just felt right. It felt fiery, more now than last night, more than when he was asleep. When he was asleep, he was more than adorable, but now… She wanted him on her again. 

Her skin burned like acid rain had dripped down over her body, but it was just his hungry eyes. It was the memory of his mouth, his tongue, his lips, and his teeth. All marking her, making her his own.

Her lungs ached for slower, deeper breaths as he sucked the oxygen from the room with that deep, husky voice of his. He left her breathless, with those soft eyes and tender smile.

All he did was put toothpaste on the brush he gave her last night. He smiled when he gave it to her, his fingers brushed against hers, like jumpstarting the dead battery of a car. 

She tried to hide the sharp inhale when she took the toothbrush from him by biting her lip. He seemed to like her reaction, a smile tugged at his lips, but he didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to and neither did she. 

She watched him do the same to his own toothbrush and slowly, wordlessly, he started to brush his teeth. 

“Cute cock ring,” she told him casually, and began brushing her own teeth. He almost spit out the toothpaste and saliva when he laughed, a very beautiful laugh that made her insides warm and melty like cheese in a burger, or butter on pancakes, or whipped cream on waffles. 

She was hungry. 

“You looked through my stuff,” he stated, a mouthful of toothpaste still in his mouth. He continued to brush his teeth, staring at her the whole time rather than looking into the mirror. His eyes were sparkling, and not just because of the cold winter sunlight. 

“I was cold,” she shrugged, then spit out what she had left before continuing to brush. He spit everything out at last, regarding her with a smirk. 

“Guess I shoulda been a better host.” Dean finished brushing his teeth and she did soon after as well, waiting for him to finish freshening up from the doorframe.

“You more than made up for it last night,” she grinned, catching the smirk on his face, the sudden dreaminess that washed over his green eyes. Her insides twisted excitedly and he finally looked at her with those soft verdurous eyes.

“Are you still cold?” He teased when he finished, reaching for her waist and gently tugging her forward, and away from the doorway. She shook her head ‘no’ and smiled up at him. “Too bad,” he hummed, biting his lip. “You chose boring socks,” he pouted, then leaned down to kiss her. 

She smiled against his lips. The kiss somehow felt more… warm than last night, and… well, like the birth of a star. Warmth bloomed in her chest, like a flower kissed by sunlight in the morning. It was like being reborn, like breathing the cleanest air.

“I was trying to be considerate,” she mumbled when he pulled away from her lips. He tilted his head with a confused smile, and moved her backwards, leading her back to his bed.

“Considerate?” Dean slowly lifted the shirt, his fingertips teasing her warm skin as he slid it up her body. 

“Read my mind,” she whispered, throwing the clean shirt on his desk when it was around her wrists above her head. 

“I don’t read minds,” he grinned down at her, pecking her lips. She hummed softly, amused just because he made her smile, and untied his robe. He humoured her anyway, staring at her as she climbed onto the bed, her soft hands moving up his torso slowly exploring, memorising, worshipping. “You… are so cute,” he teased, leaning forward to kiss her again. 

She pressed her lips against his, moaning quietly against his mouth. She pushed the robe off his shoulders and he threw it over the small, sage-coloured sofa he had placed by the window that was opened to her house. 

“That’s not reading my mind.” She buried her fingers in his hair and began crawling backwards, her warm tongue tracing his plump lips. He cursed softly against her mouth, kissing her back with as much force, and climbed up the bed with her.

“I told you,” he panted, lowering his body over hers once her head fell onto the pillows, “I don't read minds.” She pulled Dean down, closer to her, arms circled around his neck, legs parted for his hips to fit perfectly in between.

“I think you see through me,” she whispered, lapping at the red mark positioned on his pulse, making him moan softly. She couldn’t believe she felt insecure about it at first, but now, it was hot that he could read her, that he could figure her out in seconds. For however long he's been hunting, she had no doubt he was much more clever than he led on. 

“You think wearing a pair of what might be my favourite socks will make me… sad?” He tried, barely moving away from her mouth. She snickered upon releasing how ridiculous it sounded out loud, she nodded anyway.

“I’d be upset,” she shrugged, sliding her hands down his back, his taut muscles shifting beneath her hands. 

“Exactly why I said you’re cute,” he told her softly, rocking his hips against hers. She shook her head in denial, dragging her lips back up to his. His cock slid through her soaked folds, teasingly nudging her entrance, tortuously rubbing her clit. “You hungry?” He asked, leaning on one arm placed by her head.

“Dirty intent with that question?” She teased, nibbling his bottom lip. He laughed deeply, pressing his cock into her, slowly pushing in. 

“Wanted to make ya breakfast,” he huffed, moaning with her when he pulled out gently and pushed back into her warmth. “So… breakfast?” His hand travelled freely down her sides, tenderly brushing against the bruises on her skin. 

“Only if you’ll make me breakfast often,” she played quietly. With a husky moan, he slid his hands back up her sides, thumbing her sensitive nipples. He dropped his forehead to her shoulder, smiling at her words, the tightening of her walls around him taking him to the brink of delectable release and delirious insanity.

“Only if you’re mine,” he rasped, taking her wrist to slide his hand into hers, pressing it into the pillow, and above her head. 

“Yes,” she whispered, squeezing his hand, slipping her other hand into his hair. He lifted his face to stare into her sincere gaze, brought his freehand between their bodies to rub circles on her clit. 

“To breakfast or being mine?” Dean inquired, rolling his hips swiftly into her. She moaned and wrapped her legs around his waist, keeping him close, and drawing his lips closer with her hand clutching the short hair behind his head.

“Yes,” she murmured, drawing a soft laugh from him as she pressed a deep kiss to his warm lips.

➥ summer’s stellar gaze

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© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO DEANBRAINROTWRITINGS 

do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or republish my work on another platform

[tfdaycare]

Welcome to GHOST Daycare! A place where baby Cybertronians are found and taken care of until they find a new forever home. I’m Optimus, one of the head teachers and in charge of the autobot class. With me I have my conjunx, Megatron, who’s in charge of the Decepticon class, and Elita-1 who’s in charge of the Floodwater class, which is everyone else that Megatron and I can’t take in.

We also have lots of other teachers who help us with everything. Such as:

Our son Starscream, in charge of the seekers

Wheeljack, in charge of the wreckers

Tarantulas, in charge of the predacons

Grimlock, in charge of the dinobots

Airazor, in charge of the maximals

Moonsplinter, a moth, in charge of the Insecticon class

Ratchet, who take in a couple bots to teach them to be a medic

Jetfire/Skyjet, who’s our main TA

Ironhide & Chromia, our PE teachers

Beachcomber, the Earth biology teacher

Blaster & Soundwave, in charge of cassettes and cassette commanders

Drift & Cyclonus, who are our spiritualist teachers

Yoketron, our art teacher

Seaspray, the swim teacher

Powerglide, in charge of the Aerials

Hot Rod, who’s the substitute teacher for the autobot class

Arcee, who’s the TA specifically for the autobots class.

Our other doctors, Velocity, Shockwave and Ambulom

We also have our human staff:

Principal Karen Croft

Vice Principal Jon “No H” Schloder

Doctor Meridian

Ranger Dorothy Malto

History Teacher Alex Malto

Our wonderful Volunteers:

Robby Malto

Morgan Malto

Twitch

Thrash

Hashtag

Nightshade

Jawbreaker

Sam

Miko Nakadai

Jack Darby

Rafael Esquivel

And lastly we have our other staff:

Rewind, our Librarian and in charge of the paperwork

Chromedome, our grief counselor

Rung, our therapist

Tailgate, our janitor

Blurr and Eject, the sports coaches

Ultra Magnus, our administration

Rubble and Gauge, the assistants

Our hope for this blog is to help find new homes for all the little ones we’ve found since the war sadly caused a lot of sparklings to be orphaned or abandoned.

We have sparklings of all sizes and ages who may just be the perfect fit, so don’t be afraid to put yourself out there and apply to be a potential adoptee! They’re organized in generations since so many have been found.

Our sparklings are organized into five categories depending on age.

First gen: 20-25 years old

Second gen: 14-19 years old

Third gen: 8-13 years old

Fourth gen: 2-7 years old

Fifth gen: currently being born or found now.

We’ll go into more detail another time on who’s up for adoption as multiple bots have been adopted now while others are still waiting for their forever home and Kup can’t take them all in.

[acritti]

ok ive had this tfAu idea in my head ever since i read Into the Fold by ASamwich (its very good go read it) and I NEED to talk about it.

So Into the Fold features Bumblebee getting adopted by Soundwave after a peaceful ending to the war. Theres a part where Soundwave is frustrated because he cant dock Bumblebee like the rest of today his cassettes. I read that and immediately went. Wait. What if…

What if Bumblebee was one of Soundwave’s cassettes. What if he was originally a decepticon? How would that fit within the story of g1? So I did a little thinking and tinkering >:)

so yeha im gonna tell you the entire story that ive created in my head, drawn and written a bit for teehee

Bumblebee would be created as Soundwave’s third, old enough that he would remember and be involved in the Pits but young enough that he would be allowed to sit them out, which he would do often so he could take care of Buzzsaw. He was still competent in the fights he was in though.

He would have known Megatron just as well as the others, but he wouldnt have known Orion Pax as well. He would take care of Buzzsaw and eventually the twins whenever OP came over to talk revolution.

All the revolution stuff happens normally, OP gets the matrix, senate is destroyed but it becomes Autobots vs Decepticons yada yada whatever else happens in the earlier days of the war

Bumblebee would start as a Decepticon obviously, but during one of the raids, he ends up found by the Autobots, conviently with his Deceptibrand shot off his chest so they believe hes neutral and he uses the opportunity to infiltrate the Autobots. Since he spent so little time with the now Autobots when they were apart of the revolution, no one should recognize him as a Decepticon. Soundwave dislikes the idea of his child being behind enemy lines with very little way to protect him, but he agrees.

Bumblebee stays that way for some months to years, enough time to still be considered “new” to the Autobots but also enough to be absolutley adored by everyone.

Jump around a bit, Prowl slams into his office, very upset that another raid he planned went awry despite going awry in a way that should not have been possible. Unless the Decepticons knew about his plan. Jazz, obvi in Prowl’s office, hears all of this ranting from Prowl and they both agree that theres a mole and Jazz assigns Mirage to find them.

Mirage does his duties and becomes suspisous of Bumblebee one way or another. He follows Bee going to a meeting with Soundwave, but he ends up found by the Cons and shot. Soundwave wants to kill Mirage, but Bumblebee (secretly very endeared to the Autobots) wants to keep Mirage alive and brings him back to Autobase for Ratchet to fix him up. Jazz is sus of Bee, figures everything out, and Bumblebee ends up captured.

ughhhhhh something something, Bumblebee gets rescued and rejoins the Decepticons

Bee is back with the Cons but something feels… off to him. Like somethings there that wasnt before. The cons are angrier and more violent, Megatron wants more revenge and power, Soundwave seems more distant and uncaring. Bumblebee ignores it, this was his family! He’s just out of the loop after being a double agent for so long.

Then the Decepticons destroy Praxus. There was no reason to attack neutral ground. Bumblebee is disgusted and shocked. He notices that, while the Decepticons are partying on the outskirts of the city, the Autobots are going through the rubble looking for survivors. Prowl is among them, looking frantic even from the distance Bee sees him. Bee knows he has to do something, so he enters the city and goes to help the Autobots. They find someone trapped in the rubble, but they arent small enough to fit in between the rocks, but Bumblebee is. Under intense suspison and distrust, he saves Bluestreak and returns him to the Autobots.

Bee doesn’t agree with the Decepticons anymore, but he still believes in his family, so he desperately tries to get them to see the errors theyve made. He tries so hard, but they wont listen. They ignore him and make fun of his worries and they do so until he snaps.

On the battlefield, Soundwave has a clear fatal shot on Bluestreak. Bumblebee saves Blue and yells at Soundwave that if they continue on the path theyre on, then theyre just like the senate, just like the people they were fighting to destroy. Soundwave, out of anger, backhands Bee across the face. It’s the worse pain Bee has ever felt.

The Decepticons call a retreat. Soundwave calls for Bumblebee to dock, but Bumblebee refuses. Stuck in the belief that Bee is just being a teenager he attempts to force him back to base, but Bee shoots him and runs away. Soundwave realizes he fucked up and wants to go after his son, but the Autobots are all on top of him and hes forced to retreat.

Jazz finds Bumblebee and brings him back to the Autobots. Everyone is highly suspicious of him and no one believes that he could ever be anything more than a Con, but Optimus, Bluestreak, Jazz and Prowl have his back. And eventually he does gain back everyones trust.

If i ever finish writing a fic this would be the end of the first fic okay im done thanks for reading i love my little cassettebee stuck in my head for MONTHS NO ONE TO TALK TO but its okay now

+ a little art of my little guy

[tuliptired]

Can you do one with Phoebe coming out to her family?

Cool Girl, Totally Untouchable (Ch 3/3!)

Pairing: Phoebe Spengler/ Melody

holy hell I loved writing this. Ty for your support!

read on Ao3 for better formatting and a better note!

The curtains were pulled in to block out any excess light, as per Melody’s request. Phoebe recoiled at the sight of fake blood, another innocent college student killed by the masked murderer in the mid-budget movie. They were huddled together on her bed, Melody on her stomach as she watched the film on the last laptop in New York that still had a DVD slot, let alone an attachment for cassettes.

Phoebe was comfortable, if not a little warm. She didn’t pay much attention to the sounds of death emanating from her computer, but rather the girl next to her. Melody had been to the firehouse at least twice a week for a while now- she had a few t-shirts and shorts to prove it. Phoebe’s eyes drifted over to the drawer they resided in, sectioned off so they didn’t get confused with her own. Her mom had suggested it offhandedly- Phoebe didn’t really care, standing over the open wardrobe wondering if she should wait for the dryer cycle to finish or just throw on Melody’s well loved concert memorabilia. She slept in her own pajamas that night, restlessly.

Her attention snaps back to the screen, as the scene changes for gore and guts to a room full of women changing. She can feel her blood pool in her cheeks as she rushes to turn the volume down, voice shaky.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, heart beat still fast at the sudden promiscuity, “these were in a stack from Ray’s basement.” Her voice grew quiet. Thankfully it wasn’t crazy explicit, her distaste for the now 70-something year old man left to a minimum. He was a geek in the 80’s, the gaudy nature of the sci-fi in the movie telling enough, but he was also a dude in the 80’s. She shuddered at the thought.

“I don’t mind.” Melody’s voice stopped her hovering finger from pressing down the “skip button”. She leaned back cautiously, letting the video play out. Melody really didn’t mind, expression intrigued as her head lay in her crossed arms.

Phoebe let out a breath, even more thankful that the scene was more dialogue than action. She followed the blonde in the pink top. Her hair was nice, that’s all. Cut short at her ears, eyes blue and eyelashes thoroughly curled. This must’ve been what they meant by “bombshell”.

“Think she’s cute?” Melody pointed to the woman, the question making Phoebe jump a little. Hm.

She didn’t really have an answer. She was definitely attractive, there was no denying that. If she was a boy, she’d date her.

“I dunno,” her voice was a little dumber than it usually was, to her at least. Not feeling like that was significant enough, she spoke up again. “If I was a boy, maybe.” Melody snorted.

She sat up on her arms then, examining the screen a little harder. “She’s nice. I like the brunette more, though.” It occurred to Phoebe that the blonde wasn’t the only woman on screen, and there in fact was a brunette, in the corner with a book in her lap, the only one with practical sleeping clothes on. It was weird, hearing a girl call another “nice” like a boy would.

She felt awkward, not responding. “She’s okay.” Phoebe hugged her knees closer to her chest.

“Okaaaay.” Melody suddenly leaned forward, rewinding the video, before stopping at a scene like the female-dominated one, except for it being a group of the male leads in a gym locker room. “What about them?”

Phoebe was thoroughly confused. Boys in a locker room. So what?

“What about them?”

“If you had to pick one. Which would you pick?”

She shrugged, brows creased slightly. They all looked the same. Guy with blond hair, guy with brown hair, guy with orange hair. “If I had to pick?”

“New question. If you had to pick between a girl and a boy.” Melody was invested in her experiment, as Phoebe grappled for a hold on the question. 

She was speechless. Melody posed a third question, fully sitting up like Phoebe was. “Do you like any of them?” There was a slight edge to her voice that she could see the girl cringe at.

“The blond guy is stupid, and his friends are dumber,” she confessed, not sure what it said about her. “The girl’s are smarter. Julie didn’t let Amy and Bethany go into the woods alone, because she knew they’d get caught by the killer.” Melody’s gaze and silence felt like a guillotine.

“Have you ever liked a boy?” The girl asked innocently as she messed with a loose thread on Phoebe’s comforter. 

She couldn’t remember a time in her recent memory where she liked anyone, not like she was supposed to. It was never that important to her, really. It was just the moments when her mom would call her a “late-bloomer” that it started to hurt. So, she resolved to run a test with Podcast while at a street fair before he went back to Summerville, as the weather cooled and the season transitioned to fall. She did all the cliche’s, complaining about the weather to get his jacket, sharing food. She didn’t feel anything, other than her friend’s coat around her shoulders and powdered sugar sticking to her fingers as he passed her a piece of funnel cake. 

She attempted holding his hand as they walked through the crowd. But, for the first time that evening, it felt worse than nothing, it felt wrong. She couldn’t pinpoint it- and she’s sure that on a regular day she would be fine with his hand in her’s, but she wasn’t right. She felt bad as she let it drop, but since then he’s never mentioned it. So they moved on, and she was eternally grateful that he’d played an unknowing, unprotesting participant in her study.

“I guess not.” Now it was her turn to mess with the loose fibers of her bedding. Jeez, this would need to be replaced soon. She turned her head, hesitantly but still curious. “Have you?”

Melody shrugged. “Sure. Alex Thompson.” Phoebe’s fist’s clench out their own conviction, jaw tightening a little. Fuck you, Alex. 

“Cool.” 

Melody hit her once on the shoulder, laughing prankishly. “Relax,” she teased, “we were in kindergarten.” Phoebe calmed a bit at that. Still, fuck you Alex. 

She remembered the laptop, the movie catching up to a part with only the female lead. “Have you? Liked…girls?”

Melody looked at her like the answer was obvious. “Of course.”

Oh. Phoebe nodded. “Both.” 

“Both.”

Phoebe felt the bed get lighter, as a loud thud hit the wooden flooring. Melody was on the ground, hands over her face.

“Oh my god, Phebes. You’re so gay.” The word felt like a projectile to the back of her head.

“I’m…” She didn’t have the words. “Plenty of…girls. Don’t like guys.”

“What do you think that’s called?” Stalemate. “Have you seriously never given it any thought?”

“I didn’t think it was important,” Phoebe’s voice raised, unintentionally, defensively. 

Melody sat up from the floor, eyes gentle and benevolent. “It’s not.” Her words soothed Phoebe’s bout of anxiousness. “It’s not.”

“Okay. Okay, I’m- I…like. Girls.” Melody applauded her from her spot on the ground. 

“Kudos.”

She shifted on the bed. It felt like there was a weight lifted off of her, which was quickly replaced with a new one. “This is so unceremonious.” Melody was next to her again. She moved fast, almost reminding Phoebe of a spirit. Almost.

“You’re not very ‘ceremonious’ yourself.”

“Ha. Ha.”

“How would you want it to happen? The realization?” Melody wiggled her fingers in the air, mystifying the hypothetical.

“I’m not sure.” In your arms, she so desperately wanted to say, against your lips. 

“But. Calling it. Gay. Feels so…official. I’d have to…come out? Right?” 

Melody shrugged, thinking about it. “Not if you don’t want to. You could surprise them like I did, call Jessica Rabbit hot.”

“I think I’d rather just tell them.”

The girl beside her rested her head against Phoebe’s. “Whatever you do, I’m proud of you. Be you, Phebes.” 

“Thanks.” I’m a better me when you’re around.

Her bedroom door opened, just mom. Still, both girls separated as the door opened a crack.

“Melody, your mom called. She wants you home.” 

“No fun. She never wants me home this early. Thanks for having me, Ms. Spengler.” She gives Phoebe’s hand a discreet squeeze before she rises, present to none but the two of them. “Bye, Phebes.”

“I can walk you home,” Phoebe starts, eager to see her go. Callie cuts her off.

“Gary’s got it, he’s in the car,” she held the door open. Phoebe deflated a little. “Goodnight, Melody.” As she went down the garage, the mother and daughter caught the beginning of a conversation about her Bikini Kill tote bag. The car doors shut, and they could hear the Ecto take off.

Her mom broke the silence. “You had fun?” She picks up the room a little, stealing a glimpse of the clunky computer as Phoebe moves to shut it. 

“SoCal Killer.” She instantly recognizes the movie. Great.

“Yeah.”

Phoebe liked girls. Okay, great. She went to bed earlier than usual, staring out her window as she tried sleeping above the sheets. Again, unceremonious. She’d wake up the next morning, brushing her teeth as she recalled her revelation. Cool. She’d make herself breakfast, shower, get dressed- nothing felt that different. She needed another variable.

“Trevor.” His head snapped up from whatever hunk of metal and gears he was messing with. He was catching up to her this summer. She’d get back into engineering at a later time.

“What’s up?” She was wrong- it was just a lego set. That he was doing in bed.

Phoebe stilled in the doorway. “You’re dating Lucky, right?” He looks around, mouth opening and closing like a fish.

“I mean, I wouldn’t say dating. Not unless she said we were. Boy friends and girl friends don’t have to da-”

“Cool, whatever. Was her being a girl an important factor for you?”

Pure silence. “That’s a loaded question.”

“Answer. Please.”

He put down the separator he had in his hands, pondering it. “I…noticed it. But if I felt the way I do now about her, and she was a guy, there’s not much I can do to change that? I’m not sure I have what you’re looking for.” Interesting. She thanked him as she shut the door.

“Did she say we were dating?” 

More data. She liked girls, and there wasn’t anything she could do about it. Just like Trevor couldn’t do anything about liking girls. Just like her mom couldn’t do anything about liking boys. She watched cars pass below, head against the cold glass of the window. What if she did want to come out? Trevor and Gary didn’t have hateful bones in their bodies. Dr. Stantz, Dr. Venkman, Dr. Zeddemore…she wouldn’t be surprised if they got a little experimental in the 70’s, so she puts them at the point of least concern. Her mom. She was reared Jewish, inherited from the father who didn’t raise her in addition to the mother who did. She was more agnostic, in her own way. She was mitzvah’d, and fulfilled Trevor’s request for one after casual Sunday schooling, but it never went farther than that. God lived in her, rather than out. Could she find God in her daughter, after being able to find it in a stack of old photographs? Could she find God in her daughter, after abandoning It in college?

Thoughts, thoughts, thoughts. Time passed, and she promised Podcast she’d hang out after returning Dr. Stantz’s collection. As she stepped into the kitchen to grab a water bottle, she ran into Gary, pulling a tray of colorful cookies out the oven. Rainbow cookies.

“Hey.”

“Hi.” She watched on as he added them to a collection of dozens of other rainbow frosted pastries. 

“D’you want? They’re still warm.” He started to peel them off the baking pan with a spatula, not breaking eye contact with her.

“I figured. No, thank you.” She grabbed a water, slowly, retreating to the garage as she felt his eyes burn into the back of her head. Weird.

She enjoyed her time with her friend, but it was time to go home eventually. The only problem was, a random downpour kept her from being able to walk home. Thankfully, Trevor pulled up in front of Ray’s store, willing to drive her.

“Thanks,” she sighed as she sat down, rain clinging to her hair in the short time it took for her to run out to the Ecto.

Trevor nodded to her in the rear view. “Uh-huh.” They drove in relative silence, Trevor driving (obviously) as Phoebe started on a new book Ray had let her take home. A cough cleared the air.

“So.” Trevor glanced back at her. “Music?”

“It’s a 5 minute drive.” He connected his phone to the aux anyway. He fumbled with his playlists, already disobeying traffic laws when his guardians weren’t present.

He stopped his mix of driving and scrolling. “That one guy from the singing show mom likes- he made a new song.”

Phoebe turned a page. “That one guy.”

“Yeah. With nail polish.” A pause. “Isn't it cool that he brought his boyfriend to the awards?”

Her eyes stopped in the middle of a sentence. “Totally.” 

An even longer pause. “Want to listen?”

She cross referenced a subheading to something she read in the prologue. “I don’t think I’d like it, but you can if you want to.” In their long stint of being siblings, they both knew that it was code for “I don’t, but I’ll do it if it makes you happy.” Trevor’s previous attitude fell as he put his phone down, focusing on the road again. Weirder.

She reached home, a little tired and ready to sit in bed with her new literature. As she climbed the stairs, her mom was in their makeshift living area-laboratory, in front of their little box TV. There was a grainy, colorful video playing, as her mother stretched on the floor in a t-shirt and sweatpants.

“Hey, Phebes,” her voice was brighter than usual. “I was looking for an old movie in dad’s stuff, guess I found this instead.” She gestured to the TV as she pulled her arm across her body. A few women posed, stretching themselves in tight leotards, over tighter leggings. “Fonda. Fun to do on an ugly day like today- wanna join?”

Phoebe looked at the case on the couch, a happy woman on the front flexing her leg and hip muscles, dressed in 80’s workout attire. She looked back to her mom.

“Why did grandpa own Jane Fonda workout tapes?”

She took refuge in her room, finally. She tried calling Melody, but she didn’t get any response. That’s fine, it was around the time she was working, anyway. Still, the phone was kept by her pillow, just in case. She could make decisions on her own. If her family wants to be weird, she can be even weirder. It was time to tell them. It was admittedly a little scary, going into it with no coaching. It was terrifying, actually, no matter what she told herself. But, if she didn’t have to care about not liking girls before, she shouldn’t have to care about liking them now.

Her mom called her out for dinner. Paella. A very gay food. As they sat around the table and ate, Phoebe found her nerves ridiculous. Like a kid ready to drink their cough syrup, she dropped her fork.

“I have something to tell you.” Simple. To the point. All 6 eyes were on her, as she was given their undivided attention. Slightly scarier, now.

“I…” she could feel her breath and heart picking up on how scary it all was. She folded her hands, to keep herself grounded to what she had to say. “I like girls.”

No yelling. No hitting. No tears. No verses, from the Torah or otherwise. Not even a judgmental glance. But this felt worse.

“Oh, thank god.”

“Huh?” Phoebe never “huh’d”.

“We were scared you were homophobic.” Mom looked genuinely relieved.

“What-”

“You wear combat boots. Everywhere. You go to the barber. If that’s not gay, it’s something.”

“That makes me feel a lot better, thank you,” she unfolded her hands to defend herself sarcastically.

“Congrats. On being gay.” Trevor added his two cents.

“Unbelievable.”

“No, we’re so proud of you,” Callie took Phoebe’s hands in her own. “Because you told us, and you’re not a little bigot.”

Phoebe slumped over, embracing her mother’s touch. “What made you think I was…’

Gary reached over to the counter, a tupperware full of cookies in his hands. He still looked disappointed at her refusal. “You didn’t want a single pride cookie.”

Trevor nodded exasperatedly. “Didn’t wanna hear indie pop.”

Phoebe couldn’t get a word out before her mom cut in. “You didn’t even look twice at Jane Fonda. I thought you were an extremist.”

Her head hit the table. “Okay, okay. I’m not.” She could feel a rainbow cookie being placed on her plate beside her. A chair scraped against the floor, then two, then three. She could feel the arms of her family being wrapped around her shoulders.

“We love you so much, Phoebe. And she does, too.”

That hit her like a truck. It made things more complicated. Again, she was in her room, at the foot of her bed. She had a song playing, an artist that Melody enthusiastically recommended to her. As the song climaxed, she could hear the glass in her mind shattering. If she liked this girl, she actually had to tell her. Phoebe knew she loved Melody, that wasn’t the issue. In fact, she knew she wanted to hold hands with her, to share clothes, to let herself be lazy with her. All the things they did before. Just with a meaning, a name.

But to tell her? Painstaking. An extra layer of clarity lost like skin on her metaphorical wound. She’d laugh, call her adorable. Phoebe would watch on as Melody ripped out her heart and ate it whole. 

Or. She’d give her the same smile she fell in love with some time ago. She’d take her hands, Phoebe’s damp ones in her perfect, soft ones. She’d say words that Phoebe’d be too nervous to listen to, she’ll tease her about it for years. And they’d kiss. Electricity, or ghost magic would envelope them. The rest of the world, physical and spiritual, would avert their eyes, and they’d kiss. 

“I’m going. Out.” She stood behind the threshold of their bedroom as her mom folded clothes, laying them over Gary as he sat up in bed. Her hand was still on the doorknob as she looked at them, once. She normally never asked to go out, these days. Callie eventually nodded.

She let the door shut, before hearing a “good luck!” while she descended the stairs. Stepping out and out the dark of the street, she pulls her phone out.

“Hello?”

“Hey.”

“Are you busy?”

They found themselves walking inside the walls of the Paranormal Research Center, all the way in Staten Island. Both were quiet. Phoebe clenched and unclenched her fists in her pockets.

Thankfully, they were alone, and these scientists didn’t bother to power down their equipment, blue glow illuminating their way. As Phoebe showed off the different ghosts, the blue lighting on Melody’s face made her breath hitch. She was ethereal. Phoebe ran out things to say as the question loomed over her, Melody across the room and peering into a machine.

“You really love this stuff, huh?” Phoebe stopped messing with the stuff on Lars’ desk. She hoped Melody couldn’t sense her anxiety.

“I love other stuff.”

“Enough to go all the way to Staten Island and break in?”

“Yeah.”

Phoebe stood behind her. It was a simple situation, but she found herself silently pleading. Please, turn around. I need to see you.

Melody turned, then. If she was psychic, she didn’t let on.

“Boo.” That same smile. Slightly shaky hands grabbing her’s. Phoebe could feel butterflies, moths, all flying insects fluttering around her stomach as the girl she loved gazed at her the way she’d dreamed of. She placed a tense hand on Melody’s cheek, afraid that she’d turn to mist before her eyes. They stayed like that for a few moments, just taking each other in. Fate. The universe. Finding God in another person. 

“Unceremonious,” Melody teased her quietly as she moved forward, closing the gap between the pair.

Phoebe got the closest she’d ever been to feeling like a ghost in that moment, the ghastly apparitions she fought and trapped. The beautiful souls she marveled at and studied. If this was the afterlife, she wouldn’t mind spending forever like this, soul merging with the girl she was in love with.

[malecius]

Greetings my dearest friend! Say, just out of a sudden curiosity, would you mind informing us of anything you happen to enjoy collecting? Or otherwise just like to have? For no reason in particular, of course, knowing about you is just a delight, as always.

ahaha, hello gale!! always so good to see you :}

funny you should ask, i actually hadn't realized until you said it yourself but i collect pins too! i hung up a mexican flag with the green and red stripes replaced with the rainbow a long time ago, and have been hanging my pins on it since my desk is right next to it. it's where i hang my more delicate ones, or otherwise ones i definitely do not want to lose. one of my memorable pins is this, ah, "rodimus star" an ex-friend got me a long time ago. i wore it everywhere

similarly, i love collecting keychains of my favorite people and franchises! i have one of me (astarion) on my keys, several star wars one in the button holes of a jean jacket, and the rest hanging wherever i could put them HAH

an unintentional collection was earrings. i plan to get my second and third lobe piercings, so i'd love to wear more and more earrings of all kinds! i love studs, dainty and dangly ones, funny gimmick ones. one of my cooler gimmick earrings are these cameras that have a button u can press and it'll flash and play a little sound as if it were a real camera taking a picture. i love them to bits!

for a while, i was trying to collect transformers figures! the first ones i bought with my own money were these tiny 2 inch figures of one of my favorite characters and my best friend drift; one where he was still a decepticon, and the other when he defected. i eventually expanded to star wars, particularly the clone wolffe and darth maul. i think it's very special that my partner consistently sends me the ugliest looking darth maul figures they find, it's incredibly endearing and i want every single one on my shelves

this is much newer, but i finally decided to seriously collect vinyl records! i'm insanely fascinated and sentimental over physical media. i miss CDs and cassettes, but i never experienced vinyls until recently. they're incredible. i want a record of all of my favorite music, and i can't wait to have dedicated space for them once i collect more

i think the thing i have most of right now is just… notes, from all kinds of people. i have every single letter i have ever received from a student or friend or lover, every drawing, every polaroid, every sticky note, every little origami crane. photo strips, movie tickets, old stickers, even a snap bracelet, it's all so special to me. ahhh, i feel like a sentimental old man every time i sit and really think about everything i have. every letter i receive from you all will be getting it's own dedicated space :'}

ahhh i really could keep going. i collect bags, yarn, shoes, prints, a lot of miscellaneous stuff. but these are the ones i consider pretty special to me

[groovesnjams]

"Vi dom obskyra" by 1900

DV:

I've been listening to 1900 for 16 years and still know almost nothing about Christian Gabel, the Swedish artist behind the project. Part of that's the nigh-unsearchable name (hard enough even if "The 1900" weren't a completely unrelated band), part of that's because most things I can find are in Swedish, and part of it must be by design, and maybe for the best. 1900 materializes with a new album every so often, and disappears just as quietly; I found this new release while doing one of my periodic searches for a used copy of the old ones. But this fits 1900's music, which sounds like it was recorded to cassette tape off AM radio from another dimension, maybe by a kid up after bedtime hiding under the covers. Some of my favorite songs conjure up an new world and invite the listener into it; with a 1900 song, I feel more like that secret world has sprung up softly around me, like reality has shifted unnoticed and yet I'm already a part of it. It's both unfamiliar and it's already home.

"Vi dom obskyra" is one of the longer tracks on Kontragarde, an expansive journey of a composition that unfolds and swells. It's soft and repetitive, gentle but melodic and inventive enough to avoid dullness. I think it's the first time we've heard multi-tracked whistles in a 1900 track. I think it could fit neatly into 1900's 2008 self-titled debut. It's an evolution and also an encapsulation of everything that makes 1900 feel special. In short, I think it's magnificent, everything any fan who's waited eight years for a new album could hope for. There are dozens of us - "Vi dom obskyra" is currently sitting below 500 views on YouTube.

MG:

Opening with the crackle of plastic degrading, "Vi dom obskyra" is soft and sweetly nostalgic, like cuddling a beloved stuffed animal as an adult or catching a whiff of a smell you thought no longer existed. There's a little curiosity and wonder threaded through the woodwind's opening passage even as it seems to play the wise, older figure in the song's structure. It's quickly joined by those perky whistles conjuring jejune joy. I like that they have the same quality as a children's choir without the unavoidable sense of creepiness that emerges when you are an unaccompanied adult listening to a children's choir. I'm not sure if "Vi dom obskyra" is a sort of pied piper situation where the woodwind lures the whistles into a sunny stroll to the town center or if it's more like The Giving Tree, poor depleted old woodwind shrinking to nothing under the irrepressible youth of the whistles. Or some third thing, that's the fun of a song with no words -- you could watch yourself turn into the old woodwind just trying to figure out the story of the whistles.

[eriisaam]

I saw your tags on that Cassette Beasts post, and you seem pretty knowledgeable on monster collecting games! Do you have any recommendations for someone who hasn’t ventured far outside the Pokemon umbrella? I’m excited to try Cassette Beasts, and I loved Moonstone Island and Ooblets which had monster collecting elements, and I don’t know if Slime Rancher counts as a monster collector but I LOVE Slime Rancher. Past that and Pokemon, I don’t know much about the monster collecting/taming genre, but I’d like to explore it more!

Yeah! I got some! And I'd argue Slime Rancher absolutely counts! I will also add too that Cassette Beasts, Ooblets and Slime Rancher are already great picks in themselves in the genre. (Though as you are already familiar with them, I'll skip them below, but they're definitely great games.)

Granted, I will preface that while I watched a lot of these games either in terms of Gym Leader Ed's coverage, people poking it, or release trailers and screenshots, I've been limited on time to play them in depth enough to talk about the gameplay or story aspects (with a handful of exceptions), but I'll try my best to help as much as I can! Ed, however, does go into more depth of games, follows news on dev updates (especially games still in development or early access), and sometimes he's done LPs of them outright, and he may still be best to get a more informed opinion on some of these, especially ones I hadn't been able to play myself.

The best part about the genre, especially lately, is that it's gotten more broad in terms of how the games play, how you collect and/or handle the monsters, and what other game they are inspired by and/or play similarly to (and whether or not said game is Pokemon). There's as many games that are the "yay, two cakes!" of Pokemon, just as there's many games who have monster-collecting elements but the gameplay is vastly far removed from it, so my recommendations will be split based on those criteria.

(It's also a pretty beefy list, so I'll put it under a read more)

-------

In terms of "yay, two cakes!" games (or games that play as close as possible to Pokemon):

===

The Nexomon series

Visually and gameplay-wise, Nexomon has a lot in common with the DS era of the pokemon games in sprite style, and Pokemon in general in combat. The series are turn-based battling with nexomon you catch and evolve, gym-leader-adjacents you battle, and stories directly tied to their legendary nexomon along the same vibe as earlier Pokemon game plots. Both games tend to frequently go on sale (and moreso on the switch) and while the second game improved a lot in some quality of life changes from the first game, the plot is a direct continuation of the first game and thus will spoil and/or assume you've already beaten the first game. There's also a third one in the works slated to take on an open world direction and full 3d instead.

===

Disc Creatures

Like Nexomon, Disc Creatures draws inspiration from a specific generation of Pokemon, but this time the gameboy and gameboy color era. Arguably, it looks and plays like a midway point between the VERY early pokemon games, as well as the Telefang games (better infamously known as the base games which were poorly translated and transformed into what we most-likely know them as Pokemon Diamond (not DPPlt) and Jade). You battle not only with a team of three creatures, but like Telefang, all of them take part in battle simultaneously (rather than a 1V1 fight). (Though unlike Telefang, you don't have to call them or wait on their arrival likewise). Although battles otherwise play out similarly like both respective games (turn-based move-picking battle), the creatures work on individual skill trees based on species.

===

Coromon

Coromon draws a lot of inspiration from pokemon, but takes a more 'spiritual sucessor' approach, rather than base it on any specific gen, and has a unique 2d pixel art style likewise. The gameplay sticks to the familiar battling style of you doing turn-based battles with your coromon, tame and train and evolve said mons, and not only find 'shiny' equivalents, but there's actually two (the base form is called 'standard' while the two other forms are 'potent' and 'perfect'), in addition to certain species also having skins (and said skins also differing slightly to still retain the distinct appearance of the base coromon being standard/potent/perfect, rather than obscure it). A key difference, however, is that in addition to the health of your coromon, you also need to pay attention to their stamina, which is adjacent to PP in pokemon, but universal across all moves, rather than individually-move-tied.

===

Monster Crown

I'll give this cautious optimistic recommendation though I'll explain why so in a moment. In the same way Coromon is more 'spiritual successor' than 'on the nose' like Nexomon in the GBA-DS era of Pokemon, Monster Crown is the same equivalent to Disc Creatures of being more 'spiritual successor' than (sort of) 'on the nose' to the GB-GBC era games like Disc Creatures. Also like how Disc Creatures isn't as closely tied to Pokemon like Nexomon or Coromon, and deviating in its own style or mixing it with Telefang otherwise, Monster Crown has an art style a bit closer to the GBC zelda games (and distinct from it even then), and a much different presentation for otherwise keeping to the 1v1 turn-based battle style familiar from Pokemon. That being said, I say 'cautiously optimistic' as while the devs seem to not only still be in semi-active works updating the game (but especially the PC version), the game does reportedly suffer from a lot of bugs, and I'm made aware too there's reports that the switch version of the game isn't as kept up-to-date on updates nearly as frequently as the PC/Steam version.

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In terms of games similar to pokemon, but with not-so-pokemon-esque mon designs:

===

Digimon Story Cyber Sleuth: Complete Edition

What were previously the first and second individual games of the Cyber Sleuth series had been combined to package both games in one file (that you can select either/or on bootup) in this version. Compared to a lot of the other Digimon games (some of which I'll bring down further below, just for now, put a pin on that), Cyber Sleuth (both games) feature a turn-based battle format that is a bit more along the lines of Pokemon's, give or take that you battle with three digimon in a party, and some moves vary between targetting one, or targetting multiple targets at once (so if you're familiar with 3v3 pokemon battles ala the 3DS era, this is very reminiscent of that). If you can forgive Digimon having monster designs swerving all manner of ways between 'cute like pokemon' to 'what the fuck is that thing?' to 'Is that a literal pile of shit?!' all the way up to either someone's fursona or 'that's a whole ass person', Digimon Cyber Sleuth is just comfortable enough not to be too wildly far off from how a Pokemon game plays, but also having its own distinct identity in how it handles battles and raising up your Digimon. One key takeaway, however, is that a digimon has a far wider branching path of evolution forms compared to Pokemon, and not all digimon may appear as 'connected' as like a pokemon's evolution family. That being said, even in-game, the game does hold your hand in giving you a hint of which digimon you can evolve (or digivolve rather) your current digimon into (and tells you outright what that digimon is, if you've already obtained one before), and outright tells you the conditions of how to evolve what into what-else.

===

Yo-Kai Watch series

Specifically, I played the first game, and will primarily describe that, but rather unfortunately as the first game was originally on the 3DS, and other than its (also 3DS) sequels, the series had a sharp phase-out of localized releases since then and are only somewhat floating the idea in the Switch era of going back to attempting localized releases again (and I'm not sure if they ever followed through or not). Nevertheless, Yo-Kai Watch is a series far and well more adored in Japan than internationally (it's right up there with Pokemon, Sanrio, and one of its inspos in Doraemon), and it takes what you're familiar with in both the Pokemon style of turn-based battling and the above mentioned Digimon approach, and makes it way more interactable and turn it on its head. For starters, you battle with a team of six yokai, but ALL OF THEM are utilized in battle, with three active at once, and the three others in the backrow. It heavily makes use of the touch screen, so rather than just click commands and make things go brr, the yokai will automatically attack whoever they feel like (although you can pin a specific target, and they'll all redirect to attack that target exclusively instead), but on top of that, while your yokai run on auto-pilot, you instead play a series of mini-games during battle where you can do, among other things: Heal your yokai of a status effect, rotate your yokai set so you can rotate which of your six is currently actively battle, and which ones retreat to the backrow (for you to tend to uninterrupted), use items pretty much on the fly like your typical pokemon heal items, or supercharge your yokai so they'll get to their supers quicker, the effects of which vary between yokai species. On top of that, many yokai evolve into different species, but many others can be fused together to make different species instead, and you primarily collect and swap out yokai in the form of medals you earn when befriending them post-battle (either by chance or scripted-gift otherwise). Yokai also vary on synergy in teambuilding, so if you have certain yokai combos active on the same (active) team, they may gain additional buffs from it.

If you can look past many of the yokai being... uh...

...interestingly designed... the story, the atmosphere, and the yokai and the way they react to the world and each other is incredibly 'sucked into a saturday morning cartoon' vibed and super engaged out of a lot of the monster taming/collecting games.

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In terms of games with creatures similar to Pokemon, but are based on different genres of games:

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Palworld

Hear me out.

I know a lot of people have misgivings with this game. Some are warranted (there's certain mons a bit too on-the-nose to pokemon), but there's many, many other points that are bad-faith reaches at best (of the "person who thinks Renamon is a rip-off of Vulpix" variety), or outright wrong and long since debunked. I could (and had many times in the past) gone at length about many of these bad-faith points, but for the sake of not derailing the point here, that is best set for a different post entirely.

Palworld, contrary to what many would say, is not actually as joined-at-the-hip close to Pokemon as it seems, outside of the clear inspiration behind some of the design or design-direction thereof of the monsters (and for that matter clearly was inspired by other monster taming games such as Monster Rancher, which I'll discuss lower down, or even cutesy-aesthetic creatures in general like Story of Season's livestock or 90s anime design styles like My Neighbor Totoro). The monster designs aside, they actually lean more in familiarity sense of 'fakemon fangame romhack of a pokemon game' in style direction than 'just pokemon but recolored', and the more you surround yourself in pals, the more you get used to them just in a general sense.

The gameplay is actually much closer to Ark or open world explore-and-build games along the lines (some being similar to a lot of 3d farming or town-building games even), give or take a Breath-of-the-Wild coat of paint. (Worth noting, while a massively beefy game, it's also half the size of Ark proper.) You're pretty much turned loose into a massive open world, one that's surprisingly seamlessly interconnected that you can see far off with a depth a lot like Minecraft in some ways, and you can do whatever the hell you want from there: The world's your oyster. Although it does provide things for you to do (namely the gym-leader equivalent of the Battle Tower Leaders to face off, or certain landmarks that are also achievement-tied), you can do whatever you want with the pals you run into, and gradually craft your way into better and sturdier buildings, unlock more broader items, weapons, and upgraded variants, and get strong enough to challenge more varieties of pals. Although pals don't evolve (similar to Monster Rancher), some species do have different alt variants (usually a different color and element and with a different suffix), and all of them have a chance to have a 'lucky' variant spawn, where they'll glitter, make an audible noise (like Legends Arceus but more prolonged rather than sudden and brief), and they'll always have the Lucky trait, which gives them additional buffs. The pals each individually have different moves they learn either naturally or when given items, up to four traits (good, bad, or neutral) which can be passed down via breeding, and all of them specialize in a variety of different ways, so a pal not fit for battle might have a more utility use. I should also point out that contrary to its sales pitch or popular belief, cruelty is NOT the only option, and is actually far more beneficial (and in your face) about keeping your pals healthy, well tended to and cared for, and them eagerly rushing over to help you any time you try to work on something and then cheering for you after. Resources you would've also gotten in the 'crueler ways' can also be gotten peacefully simply by catching them.

===

Monster Sanctuary

Monster Sanctuary is a Metroidvania style game in terms of mobility around the map and how certain monsters play with it via field moves, but when otherwise caught in the battles themselves, it has a similar turn-based strategy of monsters taking turns trading picked moves and see what happens. Each battle works on a graded system where, ideally, when you complete a battle as quickly as possible with a lot of combos, you get a better grade, and in turn, better item yields for said grade. Instead of capturing monsters, you instead have a chance for a monster you fought to drop their egg, and said egg can be instantly hatched into your own copy of that monster. Each and every monster has a skill tree that can unlock different things from new moves, upgrades to preexisting moves, stat buffs, or certain effects applied to their moves in addition to any inherent abilities they may have. On top of that, certain monsters might have field moves that are useful for navigating your way through the map, including monsters who can activate certain levers, monsters who can hover/fly over gaps, monsters who can help you reach certain heights, and so on and so forth. Monster teams are also key, as carefully-built teams with good synergy can make huge combos, and consistently give you the best drops.

===

Digimon World series

Like I said above, Digimon dabbled on quite a number of games in its clumsy growing pains of finding its own identity. Its initial roots, Digimon World, has a lot in common with its original background as a Tamagotchi spin-off series prior to the anime Digimon Adventures being thereafter (incorrectly) labeled as a "Pokemon rip-off", and thereafter spiraling the Digimon franchise in all manner of weird directions (either loosely related to World like World Champions, semi-similar with Digimon World Dawn and Dusk, all the way up to the above Cyber Sleuth being entirely its own thing). The entirety of the World series (of which include entries like Next Order on steam) has you raise your digimon by assigning them into different facilities and/or training areas, usually, and these facilities can vary between either increasing more traditionally-used-for-battle stats (like their health, or their attack and defense), to outright increasing or decreasing their affinities (elements, in a way, which factor into evolution a lot). Compared to the above Cyber Sleuth where you have more control of when a digimon digivolves, into what, and outright tells you the requirements, World (but especially earlier games, or versions that lean heavily into V-Tamers, another series similar to the World series and is more identical to its Tamagotchi ancestor), leans into you getting more of a surprise when digimon grow dynamically and evolve on their own, based on various factors like whether or not you won/lost a certain number of battles, care mistakes or lack thereof, certain stats being at or above/below a certain point, or their highest affinity at the time, much like how Tamagotchi did. While I can't speak for how Next Order plays (between closer to World, closer to Cyber Sleuth, or a more balanced and in-control combination), the earlier you go back in the series, the closer it is to Tamagotchi's variant style.

===

Digimon Survive

And then there's this game which throws Digimon into a whole other secret third gameplay option. Digimon Survive is part visual novel, and part tactical RPG, so rather than be like a battle style ala Pokemon like Cyber Sleuth, or be a monster care sim like World, it leans heavily on being more like Fire Emblem in gameplay style, and takes everything about the way the digimon partners bond with their human tamers in the anime series, and takes it for a very dark ride instead. This time, instead of be a monster you raise into a gradual and widely-branching tree like Cyber Sleuth, or carefully meter your stats and care styles like World, not only will some digimon be unlocked either when certain criteria are met, or when you beat certain levels, but some digimon evolutions are exclusive to the different branches of the main storyline itself.

===

Monster Hunter Stories

Although the mainline games play very differently, and are more monster slaying than monster taming (with one almost-example, we'll get to that below), Monster Hunter Stories and its sequel take on a different approach of you raising and taming effectively smaller pet variants of the bosses of the mainline games, to use not only as riding mounts, but battle partners in a turn-based battle style RPG. You usually have an active party of three who take turns attacking each, and takes a much more different mood and atmosphere approach compared to the mainline games as a whole. Its worth noting, however, that although Steam does include both games, the switch version also offers amiibo support otherwise.

===

Beastie Bay DX and Pocket Stables

I include these two games in the same note because both of them are made by Kairosoft and are two games of a loooong laundry list of themes Kairosoft explores. Both are pretty tiny, pretty chill and casual games (emphasis on casual), so while some might say it might be a bit too casual as to be boring, they're both very "play on your phone to pass time/run in the background" chill raising games that don't have a lot of the stress as a lot of the above games. Beastie Bay DX is a more focused monster-raising game, while Pocket Stables is a horse derby game with pet raising elements. Similar to a lot of Kairosoft's games, they usually have a tycoon approach to a lot of their different game themes, these two included, as you focus on building or placing facilities or buildings in an open space to various effects, sometimes comboing nearby buildings for added boosted effects, and gradually improving your creatures through where you send them out, what facilities you build, item use, and more.

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In terms of games with monster collection and/or training aspects, but not as a main focus:

===

Rune Factory series

By and large the Rune Factory series is a farming game first, along the lines of its siblings in Harvest Moon and/or Story of Seasons. But instead of buying and raising livestock, the livestock are monsters you fight, and depending on the game, so are some of the love interests. You have the ability to fight various monsters and different bosses, and the monsters may vary on various properties, be it to passively generate a certain craft resource (like a lot of the standard livestock in the mainline series), as mounts you can ride for faster transport, as powerful party members for battle, or as helpers who can automate the process of assisting you with chores throughout your farm. This is in addition to the townsfolk themselves, as some of the games (particularly the later ones) also can have you recruit different villagers in addition to the monsters.

===

Monster Hunter Rise

As mentioned above with Monster Hunter Stories, while the mainline games are more about hunting monsters like live prey or active threats, Rise is a slight exception in that it not only continues the trend of past and current games of allowing you to recruit the cat-looking palicoes (or felynes, they go by a few names throughout the series...) which can assist you with various different properties depending on their professions, but also the palimutes, large, rideable dogs who can help you travel faster and jump up certain landmarks. Both assist you in battle, but both have different pros and cons to them, and you might run into in-game generated ones who you can further collect to have more variety in different ones with different professions and coat colors/styles.

===

Meowjiro

Meowjiro is a fairly humble and down-to-earth pixel art game where your primary focus is being a convenience store cashier and employee. By day, you perform various different tasks and try to keep up with the store, including cleaning trash and water puddles, the evidence of a certain shiba inu's crimes, restock shelves when they get emptied, heat up food, prepare soft serves, and of course, ring up customers as they come in.

The mon-collecting aspect comes in the reason you work the grueling life of a one-man army konbini store owner: Your cat(s). At the end of the day, you come home to tiny pixelated cats, who always start off as kittens, and whom you can evolve into a variety of ways based on what you feed them. In addition, you can also spend your hard earned cash on different furniture to decorate your home, or certain perks to make the store job less grueling.

(That being said, as stressful and high-paced as the game is, failing a task only causes a minor pay deduction, not anything super punishing, so it's stressful, but not as stressful as a meaner game could've been.)

===

Sonic Adventure 2: Battle

Hear me out.

Yes, it's a platformer game (or shooter game, or treasure-hunt game, depends on the level), and on the surface, it looks nothing like a mon game, nor plays like one.

However, the reason why it's mentioned here is moreso for a side game included in the game: The chao gardens.

SA2:B is a game that weaves both the main game and side game of Chao Gardens together pretty snuggly. You're provided 2 free chao in your default neutral garden, plus 2 more free eggs whenever you unlock the other two gardens after certain criteria are met. Chao are pure pet-raising, rather than strictly mon-levelling-and-raising, but they have a VERY dynamic approach in not just how they evolve, but the gradual ways they change depending on quite the variety of factors. These can include, but not limited to: The color and style of the egg they came out of (or combo of parents if bred), what animals you gave them (which you can collect animals and chaos drives in the main game to then give to these chao), what fruit you feed them (especially certain bought ones, not just the home-grown ones), and even which character you played as when tending to them all matter. They not only can evolve based on an alignment system, but also later dramatically evolve based on stat combinations you raised them on and which of their stats were the most pronounced. You can further also utilize them in either chao races, or chao karate (though the latter is semi-random in comparison to a typical mon battle game).

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Honorable Mention

===

Monster Rancher series (and spinoff Kaiju Master)

An older series along the age of if not predating Pokemon and Digimon, Monster Rancher have mons who (most of the time) don't evolve, are pretty brutally punishing in how to unlock certain secrets or raise and train the best fighting-capable monster who can win all tournaments, and while its a very unique stand-out compared to Pokemon and Digimon, it's a pretty harsh game in terms of difficulty to get used to and jump in compared to the others. That being said, it's also time and again surprisingly detailed about the sheer depth in variety of alts for a given monster, how their genetics work in fusions (and fusions are a pretty detailed feature in this), and its signature quirk that makes it stand out is that the monster you get (when not buying whatever's in the store) are all randomized based on things you feed the game. The first few games can draw all manner of monsters based on what CDs you insert (the steam remake gets around this by merely letting you straight up look up what CD you want, be it game or audio CD otherwise, and gets around it through that), while later games carry on the spirit of the same gimmick ala the key words you type up, or drawings you put into it. The game is not exactly the friendliest in terms of difficulty, but if you aren't scared off by the challenge, nor how dopey a lot of the monster designs are, its worth a mention in its own right.

=======

As much as I was tempted to include other mentions, primarily games not released yet that's coming soon or in the works, I think I blew this post up with way too much words huh orz

[8-dermestid]

the (blood) of the covenant (is thicker than) the (water) of the womb

relationship: gen, slender-mansion & reader

word count: 1.8k

links: available to read on ao3

warnings: reader is sent to a mental health institution (backstory-ish, between the page breaks (✸𓅓✸) if you want to skip), implied to be psychotic (me, the author-slash-birthday-person, projecting)

It’s days like this that make you miss your old life, your warm house, and your family, even if they didn’t stop you from fleeing to this new life you have. Your new family, these folks that took you in (cold, wet, and sick), have been doing their best to make it work. You’ve been counting down the days to your birthday, looming dread worsening as time passes. It used to be a day you could barely sleep waiting for, but now you wish you could sleep the whole day away to avoid it; you live in a squatter’s house with more than a dozen people, so space is the last thing you’ll get.

The worst part is that everyone has been acting weird (weirder than usual today, on your actual birthday), and it’s unnerving to see Toby sneaking about the manor and Tim and Brian ducking away as soon as you spot them. Sally’s always giggling like she knows something you don’t, and Jeffrey’s keeping to himself more than ever. Everyone else is treading quietly around you. You’ve been in some sort of sour mood since the month started, and maybe they’ve picked up on your energy and decided to stay away from you since then. It sucks, this sucks.

You stir the food you’re cooking over a hot plate. You aren’t sure how this abandoned manor still has a working socket, but you’re grateful. You pour the contents of the pan onto a plate and sit down to eat, hearing the side door connected to the kitchen creak open and multiple pairs of feet scuttle about the kitchen.

Tim and Brain, the only ones here with driver’s licenses and access to a car, set a grocery bag on the countertop, and a few others are crowding around it, peeking inside with excited looks on their faces.

“Whatcha got there?” You ask, fork a few inches from your mouth.

Everyone’s heads snap in your direction, and Toby and Jeffrey block the bag with their bodies. 

“Nothing-–It’s nothing, nothing at all.” Toby chuckles, elbowing Jeff, who pushes the bag out of the doorway’s view.

“Just go away-–” Jeffrey says your name with a pushy tone, and Brian smacks him in the chest.

You know when you aren’t wanted, and even though it hurts to hear that from the people who welcomed you when no one else would, you pick up your half-eaten plate and take it up to your room. You hear Toby mutter something.

“Not cool, dude.”

You stomp down the hallway to your room and slam the door harder than you wanted to, wiping back the pathetic stream of angry tears until your eyes are sore. You abandon your meal on your desk and curl up on your ratty mattress, pulling your thin sheets over yourself. You pull a walkman out from underneath a loose floorboard and tug on your headphones. You pop in a cassette on the A-side and click play, drowning out the sound of clattering pans and the creaky manor as you curl up into a tighter ball on your bed.

You spend a few hours tossing and turning on your naked mattress. You pace for another hour, then contemplate rolling out the window for the next hour and going on an impromptu slaughtering session, taking out your embarrassment and frustration on some strangers in the woods.

You pop out the tape and flip it to the B-Side, then let the whole tape run before picking a new tape and repeating the cycle of blasting music in your headphones until your ears hurt. While you were busy flipping over your third tape to its B-side, there was a knock at the door. They call your name, rapping their knuckles against hardwood. “Open up.” You hear Jeffrey say through the keyhole, beating both hands against the door. He doesn't stop knocking, and the sound grates against your exhausted brain. You pick up one of your shoes and throw it at the door. Like striking a timpani, the impact strikes out against the ajar door, the buzzing sound and the creak of the old hinges almost worse than Jeff’s incessant knocking.

“I’m not coming out.” You say, like a child set on running away.

“Stop being such a baby,” Jeffrey opens the door; he takes a moment to try and soften his tone, “I’m sorry for calling you that… and telling you to go away.”

“Did Tim make you tell me that?” You scoff, curling into an angry, defensive ball on the corner of your bed.

“Do you think I’m some kid that can't give an apology?”

“A little bit.” You want to say with a jeering tone, but you know that’s not true, mostly just coming from a place of anger.

“Well, do you want the apology or not?” Jeffrey asks, picking a scab on his scalp and flicking it into the hall.

“...I do.”

“Okay, good, because I was gonna say it anyhow,” Jeffrey  sits on the edge of the mattress and tugs at the cuffs of his sleeves, “... I’m sorry for fucking up your birthday.” He says quietly, one bleach-damaged eye peeking over to look at you.

“How did you know it was my birthday? I never said anything about it.”

Jeff chuckles, his voice scratchy like TV static, “It’s not Hannukuh or Christmas or any of those other holidays. It‘s not like you have any friends to fight with ‘cept for us, and besides, you usually get like this around this time every year.”

You chuckle, wiping your eyes, “You’re right, yeah. It’s my birthday. I never really liked celebrating. People always made too big of a deal about me; too much attention. But now I miss it. I miss being able to go out and celebrate, but I can't go out with you guys, and it sucks.”

Jeffrey clicks his tongue, “Yeah, hard to go out in public with Leatherface—” He gestures to himself—“And every other freak in this house, wish we could, though.”

“Yeah, we could go bowling or something.”

Jeffrey laughs, “Well, it’s not a bowling alley birthday bash, but we have a little surprise for you in the kitchen,” He tugs at his hair, “That is if you are willing to come.”

You sit up and wipe at your eyes again, pulling the sheets off and quitting your moping. Jeffrey

follows you out of your room and walks to the kitchen, pausing right before the doorway. He covers your eyes and carefully guides you through the doorway. Though his hands cover your eyes, you can tell that the room is dark, the curtains pulled shut to block the outside light coming in. Usually, the kitchen (and dining room, it’s where the long table lives) is the brightest room in the daytime, with large, dirty windows allowing natural light to seep through.

Jeffrey pulls his hands back and runs into position (you keep your eyes closed to be polite). There’s stray whispering and giggling as you hear many voices shushing each other.

“Okay," Someone pulls open the curtains, “Open your eyes.”

✸𓅓✸

One of your teen birthdays—thirteenth, fourteenth, doesn't matter; the numbers tend to blur together because they all were sucky to some degree—was objectively the worst. Your memories begin with fighting within your family, and you finally snapped under the pressure and lashed out. It was scary. It was alarming, and people were frightened of you—not because of what you did (what the stress of elaborate and too-loud parties and academic stressors in your life made you do)—but just you. Someone pinned you down and held you chest-to-floor, shouting for someone to call the police. You didn’t even know what was happening or why they forced you to the ground. Everything just happened so fast, all filtered through a static-y blur that makes it difficult to recount.

They sent you away, kicking and screaming and begging to be listened to, but none heard your pleas as the car dropped you off with nothing but the clothes on your back at the nearest psychiatric hospital. Nobody called, nobody visited, and everyone probably forgot you existed, except for conversations of that day over dinner, speaking about it like it was just some out-of-the-blue tragedy—folks whispering about you like you weren’t even a person. They spoke as if you were some demonic thing, not someone’s child or cousin or friend.

You spent time there lightly sedated on a cocktail of medications, isolated and worn down. One of the nurses responsible for checking in on you wasn’t, and you snuck out right under her nose and ran like hell. Hiding under bridges and sleeping on park benches with only your ratty clothes nearly drove you crazy.

Until things shifted, you started to see things (different things than before), and you wandered into the woods and found the mansion. You sacrificed your old life and became a proxy, though as the years went by, you began to yearn for that old sense of security and stability (a warm house, clean clothes, and a nice bed to sleep in, mostly).

✸𓅓✸

“We had a working oven last night, and Brian bought—not stole—cake mix from the store,” Toby said, lighting the candles atop the cake. The cake itself is lumpy and weirdly shaped like all homemade cakes should be, with lots of frosting smeared around the cake. It reminds you of a mud pie from some show you watched as a kid.

“We know it isn’t much, but we may as well try and make it a celebration,” Jane spoke, passing you a silver cake server, “We didn’t know how old you are exactly, but it is the thought that counts, right? Sally helped with decorating, put the candles on, and she helped with frosting.”

Sally nods, bounding around the long table to stand beside you and admire her work.

They all go through a rendition of Happy Birthday, sung out of tune and off-rhythm, leaving everyone laughing. You blow out your candles, ignoring that there are too many on the cake. You pull each candle out, carefully slice the cake into equal parts, and set them on plates, passing them around the table to each of your friends.

For once, your birthday goes off without a hitch. You’re enjoying yourself, and the people around you are having fun, too.

“Happy birthday,” Toby says, passing you a bag. You pull out your gift, “There are some blank cassettes so you can make mixtapes next time we can get into the library. We hope you like it.”

“I do,” You say, trying not to get overwhelmed at how pleasant everything is, “Thanks, guys. I appreciate you putting this together for me. It means a lot.”

There’s a slew of you’re welcomes that follow, and you dig into your cake.

It’s the best cake you’ve ever had.

[specific-dreamer]

highschool orange!bev, paul and darry headcanons bc i miss orange bev :(

beverly is two years younger than them. they all officially met in middle school and darry decided he absolutely had to keep both socs

paul and darry are each others confidants yes however. they are best friends and confidants in the same way bbc merlin and arthur were, that is to say paul told darry everything under the sun but darry had a few things he would never tell paul

enter beverly jitney bush my beloved

she only became a soc when she was like 9. and as a girl greaser in the 60s at that age she’s had her fair share of hardships and can still relate to darry if even distantly. ANYWAYS

she is darry’s ultimate confidant. because she understands why he’s so drastically different around the socs compared to how he might be at home. because she tries to hide any trace of greaser that could possibly show up in her

this was meant to be fluffy headcanons um

“darry even spent the night at his house. tat west side soc 😒” AHT WRONG he spent the night at bev’s house but his momma didn’t want him at no girls house alone (if only she knew) so paul would always show up much to bev’s chagrin

paul and bev vm have a middle school corey and topanga relationship. where bev doesn’t much care about paul, hes freaked by her presence and she likes taking advantage of that and being the worse possible menace she can to him

they’re siblings you’re honor. add in marcia and paul never learns peace again

they’re friendly enough in public though, beverly has a reputation to keep thank you very much, but a lot of people think she and paul have an on again off again relationship. they never deny it though

one time, when they were drunker than somebody’s uncle, paul said they ought to convince everyone that darry was the reason they were off again (as if she couldn’t make up her mind)

except beverly lets it slip that (chet told bob who told cherry who told marcia who told her) that half the school already thinks that and the only reason her reputation hasn’t tanked is because everyone thinks she has them both wrapped around her finger

and that the reason paul and darry never fight is because they want bev to pick them

they’re both silent for a while and darry has tears down his face because “even the rumors of us are more fun wtf guys”

those first two years (rly one year bc hs was grades 10-12 back then but i digress) of highschool were nearly unbearable without bev. they really didn’t know how to cope without their third so joined random clubs just occupy their free time. that’s how they joined football.

paul convinced darry to join sga for the shits and giggles (but darry actually really enjoyed it because people had to take an hour and a half out of their day to quit looking at him as some greaser and to actually hear him out on his ideas)

darry forced paul to join woodworking but he was so shitty at it he had to drop it mid semester and the only other class that fit in his schedule was drama. he refuses to tell darry but he absolutely adored it. he never got on stage or anything, he was far from an actor, but he did adore helping with set and lighting

one time. like right after the love triangle rumors started, bev and paul kissed just to try and see if maybe there was some credibility to the rumors, but the way both of them immediately screwed up their faces and turned red they knew there was absolutely nothing there.

however that was also when they stopped pissing the other off has much. (they immediately noticed that the other was queer but since they didn’t want to be clocked themselves neither mentioned it to the other)

(they do tell darry though. “darry did you know bev’s one of them fruits??” “…it’s literally 12 in the morning, what the hell are you talking about?” / “i’m serious darrel, he kissed like he was the girl!” “wait rewind the cassette. yall done kissed?”

darry is not pleased. his dad woke up him talking abt some “the phone rang like a devil tryin tah catch jesus and it’s just yo damn fool of a friend. go tell them to quit callin my damn house at 12 in the got damn morning like they pay bills”

he wasn’t really mad, the phone woke up him and ofc everyone else in the house sleeps like the dead so he had to answer it. darry was pissed off though. he very much values his sleep)

oh ! bev hates giving nicknames. loathes being called her full name, only call her bev ty, but she refuses to use a nickname for you. she’s called darry darrel since the day they first met, way back when she was still a greaser

[kinnenvy]

qaf drabble #1

early season 3 break up small little drabble that i need out of my drafts :) , brian centric

Brian is on his third cigarette and his second beer. It’s Wednesday and Woody's tightly packed, but Brian's head is too all over the place to truly pay attention to the crowd around him. Not about its quantity nor its quality.

Unfortunately, despite his inability to acknowledge his surroundings, all the whispering happening around him easily reaches his ears. He can't escape the judgment being directed his way. Callous words about how tired, how haggard he looks, how dispirited and pale. How the god of Liberty avenue has stumbled and fallen to the depths of the worst kind of hell. Lonely and apathetic and too tired to hide himself behind his shell of glamour and charm.

He lights a fourth cigarette and instead of a third beer he gets himself a glass of whisky.

"Hey… Brian." Someone sitting on his left strikes a conversation, or at least tries to. Brian glances at him and hums. "Do you remember me? We… Met at Babylon last Sunday." 

Brian rarely remembers, but he looks back at him anyway. The mole on the skin beneath his eye vaguely reminds him of the backroom, of loud music filtering through the air and mingling with Justin's voice in Brian's ears.

He's the last guy they've had together and Brian is not sure whether he wants to fuck him or make sure to never see him again.

He doesn't try to do either, he just goes back to gazing into his drink and smoking his cigarette.

"We've been looking everywhere for you!" Ted and Emmett appear out of thin air and unknowingly save him from finally giving in and taking the guy home, just to hear his voice, look at his mole and pretend there's three of them in his bed.

"Yeah, it's pecs night at Babylon, what are you doing here?" Emmett sits beside him in a way that’s entirely too deliberate. He very openly reaches for Ted's hand, he glances at Brian in a way that he probably thinks must be subtle, and joins their fingers together, likely expecting Brian to point and sneer at them just to distract himself. Brian has to look away instead.

He picks at the damp label on one of his empty beer bottles, he stays there until it’s deep into the night and waits, he's not sure for what.

"This new account is bullshit." Brian groans in the agency corridors, Cynthia snickers and rolls her eyes as she walks next to him fidgeting with all the new documents they've acquired in the meeting.

"Why would they launch a new cassette player in 2003? And why do they expect them to sell?" She, as she often does, speaks out Brian's exact thoughts.

"I don't know and it's coming from one of our oldest accounts, so I can't even tell them to fuck off. They better pay me before they go bankrupt." He massages his temples and wipes off some of the tinted moisturizer he's started packing over his face. Wordlessly Cynthia helps him fix the patch of skin he's uncovered and Brian slams the door of his office harder than he should because of it.

Two days later a copy about nostalgia comes across his desk: You only know what you'll miss, once it's already gone. The accompanying images of Walkmans knockoffs and cassettes don't do much to divert his thoughts from blond hair and blue eyes.

When Brian comes home that afternoon he notices his wardrobe only has his clothes in it, he scans the loft and it takes him just a superficial glance to be able to tell that Justin sneaked in during his office hours and took away most of his things. His eyes linger on the computer and the graphics tablet he got him still sitting where he last left it. 

There's a feeling he'd rather not describe sinking to the pit of his stomach, it reaches so low inside him that Brian convinces himself his only choice is to bounce back and start looking up again.

He cleans up and for the first night since the Rage party, he wears his best fuck clothes and skips Woody's to get himself right to the backrooms.

The next logical step is to steal Michael away from his quiet evenings with Ben and let him distract him from the turmoil inside him. Allow his company to patch him up and hold him together, like he used to do when his dad got too drunk and Brian had to wear bruises for weeks, when his mom was too distracted by her own listlessness, to realize Brian needed her comfort.

"We can't stay too long, Ben has to wake up early tomorrow." Michael shouts in Brian's ear so he can hear him over the music and the yelling happening on the Babylon dancefloor. From this close he can see he still has a dark spot around his left eye from the blow he delivered to his face, without thinking Brian traces it with the tips of his fingers.

"What? The professor's working on a Saturday morning?" He asks, mostly just to fill the silence that can't be hidden by the loud bass beating and pulsating in the air around them.

"He's got a check up at the hospital." Michael says it like it's nothing special, but Brian has always been able to see right through him with ease. They dance a little closer after that, their hands gripping tightly each other's clothes.

"You better take him home then. It's already time for my scheduled backroom appearance anyway." Brian pushes him away only a handful of minutes later, Michael looks up at him and pats his shoulder.

"Listen, I know I behaved like an ass… But be careful, okay? Don't let this whole thing drag you down." Michael says, but can't look directly into his eyes anymore. Brian knows his outburst during Linds and Mel's party is still haunting him, even though letting his emotions get the best of him is Michael's specialty, just like hiding them is Brian's.

"What thing?" Brian furrows his eyebrows and shrugs, feigning ignorance, "I've never felt better."

"...Right." Michael releases a sigh between exasperated and amused, then kisses Brian's cheek and walks back to the bar where Ben, Emmett and Ted are deep into conversation.

Brian watches until all four of them decide to leave and start moving towards the wardrobe. Emmett looks back into the crowd one last time and raises a hand to wave at him, Brian raises his chin to acknowledge him, then he turns on his heels and lets himself be dragged away by the first man who hits on him.

Things slowly start to settle again. Brian stops paying short, blond twinks to wear baggy clothes and lay flat on his bed, while he rams them from behind. Hopefully soon he'll also stop seeing Justin in every trick he brings home.

For now he's cursed to see his face every time someone begs for his cock. Also whenever he steps into the diner.

Brian is starting to question the amount of money he's spending to put him through school, considering how he seems to be working every shift from Monday through Friday. He doesn't comment on it though, or on anything else, and he purposely gives his order to another server.

He's started going to tanning salons again, he's cut his hair and he is generally looking much better than he did weeks ago. Despite all of that, he keeps his sunglasses on, not wanting Justin's furtive glances to see anything he isn't supposed to. Also to shield himself from seeing how little his own ailments seem to be reflected in his inquisitive blue gaze.

[indiaalphawhiskey]

For your WIP-- what's the most fun you've had writing it? :D

I love this question!! 😁

The best part is weaving parts of their past into the present day fic, so you get little tastes of what they were like when they were young and in love (insufferable). I absolutely love making references to their first love story, because it reminds me so much of how your parents will say some random thing about who they were/what they did/how they fell in love before they had you and it blows your mind because it’s so incongruous to who you think your parents are.

So far, this is my favorite example of that:

Usually, staring his own inane foolishness in the face was not something that Louis just… accepted, seeing as he wasn’t exactly the kind of man who made bad decisions a habit. Anymore.

There was once a time he was the king of them; made them daily – hourly, even – without rhyme or reason, as easy as breathing.

Going on a twelve-hour-long pub crawl the night before his final exams, just because Harry, Niall’s little know-it-all second year friend, had declared it ‘the dumbest idea he’d ever had’? Standard Monday.

Sneaking all the boys into a random gig after that very same Harry had the audacity to doubt Louis could, and then going home with the lead singer of whatever C-list new wave band had been playing that night because Harry had actually scoffed out loud when the guy had hit on Louis? Tuesday. (…That rolled over into Wednesday, and then Thursday.)

Fucking up his entire third year course schedule on a whim, so he could enroll in an Intermedia Arts class he had absolutely no business taking, just so he could spend it irritating the fuck out of Harry, who was, as far as Louis was concerned, just a prissy, pompous, pretentious, curly-haired photography student who still refused to hand over, what Louis maintains to this day, was rightfully his David Bowie cassette? The better part of 1983.

He’d had a penguin permanently tattooed on his arse, for Christ’s sake! All because he and Harry had been having some petty argument he couldn’t even remember (strangely enough, somehow related to that three-night stand with not-quite-Duran-Duran), and Louis had felt so terrible about making him cry that he’d panicked – decided then and there that he would do (and, clearly did) absolutely anything to make Harry honk out that annoying (read: kind of adorable) donkey bray again.

And, maybe it said something that every single one of those examples had somehow involved winning Harry’s attention, however unfavorable (and, how Louis had managed to convince himself that was a completely normal reaction to a platonic frenemy, he’d never know), but Louis wasn’t one to dwell. At least, not when he was trapped in a bathroom with his ex on the other side of the door waiting for him.

So, it was settled: Louis was officially sticking by what was clearly the absolute dumbest decision he’d likely ever make in this half of his lifetime.

[dangerous-advantage]

(yagi-no-eda here~)

Totally would circle back /pos. I’m also pretty new to the fandom!

My wife has liked Usagi Yojimbo and associated stuff for years but it’s only this summer that my brain has allowed me to really get into it, and make it past the first 2-3 comics. Not for lack of trying - it was just never the right time in an ADHD way*. Something always would distract me. I’ve inhaled all the comics I can in just the last couple of months and yeah, Stan came at me with a steel chair too. I did not expect …this whole situation. I’ve been a fandom lurker since 1999 and yet suddenly I have blog I use near daily, a sketchbook, and bunch of fic WIPS...

Mainly because I am Unwell over UY.

I have accepted my fate. This is always going to be a Thing now.

Though I did admittedly also inhale TMNT 2003 and Rise.

Travels with Jotaro is one of my favourite volumes, but I’m also weirdly into Bridge of Death rn and just….in general having a moment over Usagi’s time with Mifune. To the point I’m doodling intros for a fake show called The Mifune Years. He had this whole expected future and friends - denied.

* to be fair this is also the summer I found out its def ADHD driving this media analysis machine I call a brain

Hope this was an okay way to get back to you! /lil anxious

Feel free to network (or share thoughts) in my tags anytime, I love hearing what other people think. Also happy to chat anytime. Or feel free to tell me to back off and that's chill too :)

(been waiting to answer this for when i had more time but gave in; should be working on my fic(s) but you know how it is lmao. stay tuned for a very long post, because i love talking about things with people, especially things i like haha

very cool to see another person very passionate about this series! i grew up on 2003 (and the 90's movies-- my parents had the third one on cassette and i remember i wore that fucker out lmao) but it was always more of a "scattered interest" rather than something i was fully pulled into

i started getting into rise (read: The Algorithm came for me) probably mid-July of last year, but didn't fully fall into it until after the movie came out. it renewed my interest in tmnt overall, and i've been here ever since!

i did attempt to watch the usagi chronicles a couple of times, and i remember thinking they were fun but not really my thing. (i definitely want to revisit it, even though i know it won't hold a candle to usagi yojimbo. it does look fun in a silly way, which i can get behind.)

i knew vaguely about how big usagi yojimbo was, and that it was a commitment, but i'm surprised how quickly it sucked me in. i've never been super interested in stuff within the genre, but damn if it doesn't satisfy the autism. entire chapters devoted to infodumping about the edo period of japan? sign me the fuck up!

i especially did not expect how much it would make me feel. like. wow. ouch. usagi is just Some Guy but he is also so well characterized and you really feel for his internal conflict, 10/10.

i've been looking for series with older protagonists, especially those more focused on the familial/platonic aspect rather than romantic (i am just an nd queer on the interweb, can you blame me for yearning for found family?), but hadn't found any i really liked other than the tarot sequence by kd edwards (very good read, would highly recommend.)

also not to be a nerd but ohhhh my god i am so obsessed with the plot with mifune.

like i know the series takes place after that, and after the fallout of that, but just. wow. imagine devoting your entire being to another, to the point where you would readily die for them and their word, and then they die. they die, and you did everything you could to honor them in that death, but they're still gone.

like... that emptiness stays with you. you don't just get over that. maybe it's the "being raised in a cult" but wow, do i empathize with that.

idk if we explore more about the fallout/exact history with mifune/immediately following mifune's death but there is so much writing potential there. if i was not embroiled within turtle hell and 50,000 words deep in a multi-chapter fic already, i would absolutely write something for it.

like. this is adjacent to your interest in the topic, but can you just imagine (/rhetorical /general you.) as far as we know, he spent five days on the battlefield before he made it out to the tangled skein.

(which is one of my favorite additions like good god holy shit. that is so cool and angsty. your lord, days after dying, appears as a fucking ghost and saves you. like, if i were to be silly and funky, i would absolutely headcanon that as the reason that he was able to stand up and continue on. because i mean... what else? what else could motivate you to stand up once more after something like that?)

(well. honor. but mifune is the physical manifestation of honor in the narrative, so same difference? it's like both thematically significant and emotionally significant and-- ok im shutting up now. but i could talk for days, istg.)

but like. how do you reconstruct yourself from that? we see him holding tight to this sense of honor, even after his lord is gone, sent reeling (adrift in the waves) with only his soul and moral compass to hold to.

which makes it hurt so much more when we see these ideals of honor-- this ghost of a man, of a life, still haunting him years after the event-- still woven through the narrative, made to specifically conflict his deepest wants.

i joke about it a lot on my fic discord (i have a whole channel called 'father-material' devoted to just pictures of him hanging out with/taking care of kids), but something that seems very important to him is wanting to be a father figure, and wanting these connections to family and friends.

but that is contrasted against these ideas of honor, the very thing he built and rebuilt his foundation off of after it was torn away from him. and it's just so incredibly painful but also it makes sense, because he can't just give up the side of himself that is a samurai. too much of his person, his characterization, is built off of this.

to see it constantly clash with this want to settle down and finally rest, devote himself to his relationships/family rather than the code of bushido-- the very essence of honor itself-- ourgh ourgh ourgh its so good

(put aside the fact that he once said he could never serve another lord, and we know from the story that the idea of a "lord" can be more than just a person... he never stopped serving mifune, not truly. he still upholds the ideas of honor that mifune stood for/represented. as if his lord never truly left him.)

...i was going to say more, but then i realized this turned into a whole-ass mini-analysis, so i'm forcing myself to stfu. but basically: i have feelings about this series, man (/gender neutral).

anyway. if you ever do put something together, i would love to read/follow it! if i ever wrote something, it would probably be exploring the direct fallout of losing mifune, so hey, different niches but similar (:

also: never be anxious about talking to me ever in any way possible. i will probably be even more annoying than you in tags/asks/everything under the sun, and i do genuinely love talking to people who share my interests (typically about those interests.) i like to pretend i am an internet Cool Guy, however, it is a flimsy veneer to hide all the cringefail swaglessness and unending mental illness about my blorbos

(...i am so tempted to just invite you to my og turtle discord server so i can annoy you about usagi on the regular. also about what my reimagining of yuichi would be, because i have so, so many ideas.

i will refrain, but if you would be interested, it has been kinda dead as of late, so it would be nice to enrich the ecosystem a little by slowly collecting other usagi-interested individuals and slowly taking it over, one by one (/j /lh).)

anyway, same thing goes for me with my posts/asks/reblogs/messages/whatever. i am so very earnest, so if that puts you off, that's very chill and fine. however, as long as you're down to vibe, i am similarly down to vibe >:D

i once more apologize for this monstrosity of a reply. i would say it won't happen again, but my reading comprehension apparently does not extend to the "all things in moderation" maxim. instead i choose maximalism (to the max)

(sorry for that joke. yeah that will also happen again. sorry. /lh /pos)

[princeofconjurers]

[[ It is That Time.

Watching a bootleg of Phantom on YouTube because we don't have a DVD player right now and Phantom is only streaming if you pay for it right now.

I first saw this musical 20 years ago (well, it will be 20 years ago in October, didn't quite get to 20 years. I wanted to see it for my birthday this year in October for the 20th anniversary of seeing it on Broadway but unfortunately that won't happen, even though I'm moving close to New York later this month).

I am so glad I got to see it three times on Broadway when in New York last month. I didn't know if I'd be able to see it again and I ended up seeing it three times on that trip. Such a beautiful production.

I heard Laird Mackintosh is the Phantom for the final performance? Is that true? I love him. Ten years ago he was I think Andre when I saw it twice on Broadway. He's put so much into Phantom. I also heard that Ben hasn't performed at all this month. Strange. I hope he's okay.

The first (Oct. 2003), second and third (Nov. 2013) times I saw Phantom on Broadway, Hugh Panaro was the Phantom and he's one of my favorites (as you might guess from the icon), even though the first was ten years before the second and third (that I saw two days in a row).

The fourth, fifth and sixth times (which was last month, March 2023, two days in a row then one day break in between for the third) it was Ben Crawford.

Somewhere between that I saw it twice on tour, once at Pantages with Chris Mann (July 2015) and the other at the Segerstrom with Derrick Davis (July 2019). I'd previously met Chris Mann on his tour for The Voice.

Also Love Never Dies at the Pantages with Gardar Thor Cortes as Mister Y (April 2018).

I still have the DVD of the 2004 movie I got as soon as it came out on DVD when I was like 8 (9? When did the DVD itself come out?) it doesn't work anymore and I have a different one to replace it as well as the 25th anniversary production of course.

I really need to buy a Playbill to replace the one from when I saw it in 2003, which I have seen some on ebay so at some point I will get one. I also really want to replace the Andrew Lloyd Webber 2002 Gold CD which was the first way I listened to any Phantom songs before I saw it live. I fell in love with Music of the Night at 6 years old before I even saw the musical. This musical has meant so much to me and it helped me through a lot when I was 16-18, and the height of my Phantom obsession. I am still very proud of the Phantom collection I have, every English translation of the original novel and a French language one of course, so many DVDs and a few VHS tapes, CDs, cassette tapes, books of and about Phantom and its adaptations. I've written papers on this story for college. I have seen so many adaptations, met my best friend and love because of Phantom and had many wonderful friendships because of this story.

I will miss you, Phantom on Broadway, which was my first introduction to this wonderful, tragic story. I will see you again once you come back for your inevitable revival at some point in the future. 35 years is a long time and you've had a great run. The Majestic won't be the same without you. Break a leg to whatever will be in the Majestic next having to deal with any lingering ghosts in that theatre! The Phantom will always haunt that stage, I'm sure, it's been his home for 35 years. You are a beautiful theatre and it will be so strange to see something else in the Phantom's place.

I love you, I will always love you, I will miss you, and I can't wait for your return. ]]

[jioniwashere]

The Things that have been happening. (Update blog!!)

Hello everyone.

I have been thinking about writing about how things have been going, an update, if you may.

After being fired after protesting about the craziness of an 8-hour job for half the pay, I decided to look for a new side job. Something that can help me avoid student loans and buy the college supplies I need, using the rest for my projects or my savings, which helped me these days. But even then, I was still running short. So that's why I decided to open a Ko-fi, which most likely is where you're reading this. I want to thank everybody who donated; even if it wasn't much, it helped me survive these weeks.

And now, I'm glad to say that I found a new job as a community manager assistant. They pay well (as well as a part-time job could,) and it's a few bus stops from my local Denny's. So it's a good deal. I decided to keep the Ko‑fi open, mainly as a tip jar. Having a second or third income could help me to pay for a few things.

Speaking of debts, The Upcoming EP.

Things have been going slow with the EP (or album) "The Minotaur." (Yes, that's the official name.) The mixing, made by my producer Amaury, has been going slow. It may take another month to have the final mixes, but, to be fair, I wanted to make my own "Arcade Fire Funeral," an incredibly ambitious project, and we made so much with the same budget as Nirvana's first album (I recorded it in my birth country, Mexico, and the Peso has lost most of its value. Make that what you will.) So it's okay if we wait a bit longer. That said, I've started looking for a distributor. I have my eye on Trickysoop and Neutral Alliance, and I'm patiently waiting for them to open a spot. But I'm still open to suggestions or invitations from any other label. However, I still need to be cautious with scammers; I've already met one (but that's an anecdote for another day.)

The last thing that I wanted to mention is that I've been working on new music. Aside from "I Saw Autumn Leave," the 12-hour songwriting experiment, which I'm still kinda impressed with. I've been working on new poems and melodies to record once I get a Focusrite. As you probably noticed, I like to work with concepts. (I love the concept albums.) I don't want to spoil it (yet;) I could give you a clue if you like: based on a song I've already released found in the cassette.

So that's all that has been happening. I'll be less active these next weeks as I try to balance the release, work, music, and personal life. Zoe will probably take over these social media in my absence; don't be surprised if I'm inactive for a few days. Thanks for stopping to read this, and I hope y'all have a pawsome day.