#the ending instrumental is basically him finding out that yes it was all worth it to take the risk

[allthemusic]

Week ending: 23rd February

Are we getting more bands coming through? I'm looking ahead at the list of singles, and I'm definitely seeing more groups and less solo acts, which I think is a welcome change. It will probably be worth tracking this over time - I bet it's the sort of thing that's going to pendulum back and forth as different styles of music hit it big.

It's Almost Tomorrow - The Dream Weavers (peaked at Number 1)

The title here says "lullaby", and the music, when it starts, doesn't do anything to dispel this impression. The introduction sets a soft, gentle pace, with a single male singer - apparently by the name of Wade Buff - taking the lead in what sounds like a rather soothing waltz, backed up by some female vocalists. Is this going to be a straight-up lullaby? We start out with My dearest, my darling, / Tomorrow is near and it seems likely.

But then, a twist, as the singer sings, in a very gentle, straightforward style, about how tomorrow Your lips won't be smiling / Your eyes will not shine / For I know tomorrow / That your love won't be mine. Yikes! It turns out Wade's love has fallen out of love with him. It's unclear from the lyrics if they've fallen for somebody else, or if they've just gotten cold feet, but it's brutal, either way. There really seems to be no hope for poor Wade.

So what will he do? Will he weep and mope? Rage at his love and angle for a break-up? Shrug and wish them well in life? Redouble his romantic efforts? No! Wade chooses the most pathetic of all routes, and professes his eternal devotion to this rather fickle lover, singing about how I'll love you forever / Till stars cease to shine / And hope someday, darling / You'll always be mine. And even when he acknowledges that this is unlikely to work, he simply goes for denial, hoping that tomorrow just won't come. Which really isn't how time works.

I think if this was sold a bit more emotionally, I'd be quite sympathetic, but the lullaby tone doesn't let me take this too seriously. He just sounds so unbothered by it all, so content to just mope and pine away, and it's genuinely a bit irritating. As I said, a bit sad and pathetic.

I do like the way that the piano and the other instruments - until this point content to just plink away rather docilely - decide to go nuts right after the final line, with an uncontrolled and rather nutty break for freedom in literally the last few seconds of the song. It's great, and I wish the rest of the song had that same energy!

The Rock and Roll Waltz - Kay Starr (1)

Ooh, I'm intrigued by the title of this one! Is it going to be rock and roll? A waltz? Some hybrid of the two?

It turns out that yes, it is a hybrid! I'd classify this as a novelty song, but the best kind of novelty, where it's not too obnoxious about it. It's basically a good song that just happens to have a gimmick - in this case, the fact that it's an old-school swing waltz but with a boogie woogie bassline and some saxophones that you might otherwise find in rock and roll music. Which is a pretty neat gimmick, if you ask me! I have a real soft spot for songs that mix genres together in ways that you wouldn't expect, and this is that by the spadeful.

I also appreciate the story that justifies this, and especially the way that it gives a glimpse into a growing generational divide in the way that people listened to music. Basically, the idea is that Kay has come home - from a date, apparently, so good for her! - only to find music playing as she sneaks in. She looks and There in the night was a wonderful scene / Mom was dancing with dad to my record machine. So mum and dad, thinking she's still out, have pinched her records and are trying to dance to them, blissfully unaware of rock and roll's general lack of 3/4 time signatures.

Even Kay has to admit that this is kind of cute, and honestly, I love the perspective here. It shows and gently mocks the difference in the way that young people and their parents listen to music, and the type of music that people listen to, but it's not mean-spirited, and Kay comes off as gently amused that her even her uncool, old-school parents are willing to give this new-fangled rock and roll thing a try.

And so we get to the chorus, with its repeated One, two, and then rrrrock / One, two, and then rrrroll refrain. I love the way that Kay, otherwise reasonably restrained, really lets rip on this bit, with that little bit of an edge to her voice, giving it a sort of rock and roll energy. It's a deliberate kind of performance, and she dials it back again for the verses, but it's fun while it lasts.

I also find it kind of interesting that this song is coming out, even relatively early in the rock and roll era. Because this song isn't rock and roll. It's cashing in on it, but all the kids are out listening to the real deal at this point in time - the stuff that's been in the charts and the stuff that hasn't made it into the top 10. This song is not that - if anything, you get the sense it was made more for the parents' generation, or for listening to with people of that generation. It's rock and roll but cut with enough swing music to make it palatable, and I think it's fascinating that this kind of "watered-down" popular version of rock and roll is already hitting the charts!

Band of Gold - Don Cherry (6)

I have never heard of Don Cherry, but I'm going to go ahead and assume that this is another song about getting married. Whether or not it will do something interesting with this remains to be seen.

Okay, we've started out in a definite "easy listening" kind of mode, with lots of strings, and a crooning lounge voice. Don Cherry does sound like a lounge singer, actually. That or a Mad Men-esque mid-century exec. It's a good stage name.

And yes, it's about him wanting to get married. That's basically all there is to the song, with Don singing about how I've never wanted wealth untold / My life has one design / A simple little band of gold / To prove that you are mine. Which is sweet, I guess. It's romantic, and not so overblown that I start rolling my eyes at it, like I did with Love and Marriage, a few weeks back, or Memories Are Made Of This.

We then take a tour through the other things Don doesn't want. He doesn't care much for fame, we learn, and he doesn't care for travel, though others sail away to Araby / And other lands of mystery. They get memories, but memories fade - Don, rather predictably, would prefer his band of gold.

That's basically it, for the song. There's this rather charming chime that plays whenever Don sings the words "band of gold", with some backing singers that accompany it, and a pleasantly smooth violin couterpoint, and there's even a build-up into the penultimate verse and a key change into the final verse, both of which are effective at ratcheting up the tension, building the song up to a satisfying ending. It's nice.

That's not, by any stretch of the imagination, to say that this is a cool song, and honestly, I'm kind of suprised I like it as much as I do. It feels like a song that's solidly marketed to adults, it's slow and syrupy, and it's pretty soppy fare, and yet... I don't know, there's something quite forward-looking about it. You could play this unchanged and tell me it was a 1970s soft rock deep cut, and I wouldn't actually question you. Something in Don's delivery and maybe the electric bass that they're using? A bit like Kay's offering, this is definitely not cutting-edge youth music, and yet you can really hear things shifting, even in these relatively marginal songs. Exciting times!

I enjoyed these tracks. Well, I enjoyed two out of three of them. Neither of them were particularly high-powered or particularly cool, but they had the earnest charm of a song that's just trying to do its own thing in a broadly competent fashion. And like I said, I think it's cool that we're seeing all of popular music going in this sort of direction, mixing together the more traditional swing-based pop that we've been seeing with electric guitars and rock and roll sounds and attitudes. It's laying the groundwork for what we'd really call pop today, and I, for one, can't wait!

Favourite song of the bunch: The Rock and Roll Waltz

[poweredbydietcoke]

Favorite books of 2023

2023 Book Totals

4  Audiobooks 11  Kindle books 8  Tree books

23 Books total

Well, I totally missed 2022’s book report, which seems about right for 2023 .. maybe I’ll finish it one of these days. Links to 2021 and 2020. Anyway, here are the top books on my list, and yet again, in no particular order. (as always, affiliate links to the books get donated to charity every year … currently to my kids’ preschool although open to other suggestions).

Many thanks to Rhia Dizon for doing the bulk of the work to get this list out this year

Foundation Series Books by Isaac Asimov

Yes, the famous sci-fi series that every credible nerd read in high school (or before) … I’m openly admitting I had never gotten to it. Turns out, it’s worth reading, although it tapered off (for me) after maybe book two or three (sort of like Star Wars, in the original order?) 

Where Is My Flying Car?: A Memoir of Future Past by J. Storrs Hall

Very interesting, albeit with plenty of holes in the logic, reasoning, and data … I can’t handle too much of this type of writing, but occasionally I find it really interesting, uplifting, depressing, and motivating all at the same time.

In this case, “Hey, if we had kept being aggressive on technology development from the 70s on, where should we be?” He has plenty of theories as to why this didn’t happen (some of which intuitively resonate with me – regulation, anyone? :) – and some of which didn’t, like scientific attacks on nanotech), but without counterfactuals or a deeper understanding, I found those less interesting than the “vision”—also, points to anyone who weaves Feynmann’s arguments into his book so deeply.

The King of Oil: The Secret Lives of Marc Rich by Daniel Ammann

It's about Mark Rich, the guy who turned oil into a commodities market. This one was recommended by Alex Yakubovich. It was really good, super fun, and interesting about something I didn't know very much about, which I quite enjoyed. His life is basically building Rich and Co. and this commodities firm, how the market worked, how he traded, and how he built relationships around the world. He ended up trading with a bunch of countries that were under sanctions from the US which got him in a lot of trouble, maybe unfairly. Ultimately pardoned by President Clinton, which created a whole new scandal.

How to Astronaut: Everything You Need to Know Before Leaving Earth by Terry Virts

It was a recommendation from Dennis Pilarinos. It was fun and easy, approachable for anyone interested in space & aviation, or just adventure … no background required.

My favorite quote: “If you bail out of an aircraft and your parachute doesn't open, you have the rest of your life to figure it out”

The Mature Optimization Handbook by Carlos Bueno 

This one was actually recommended by my co-founder Vlad. A great reminder about optimizing (or not) specifically large-scale software systems … into the weeds on measurement and instrumentation, and continually reminding yourself to measure before you optimize, and resist the urge to do it prematurely (incidentally I’m listening to Walter Isaacson’s Elon Musk right now and just got through the part where he realized (very publicly) that he had over-automated the Tesla factories).

Watching the English: The Hidden Rules of English Behavior By Kate Fox

It's funny, probably like 5x longer than it should be, but it's funny. I got it used somewhere cause it's out of print and not available on Kindle, but it seemed a worthwhile investment in my marriage.  :) It's by an English sociologist anthropologist who writes about English culture. And it's funny, huge emphasis on privacy and being private, not being offensive. A bunch of step-by-step discussions, like how do people behave in pubs? How do people behave on the street? How do they talk about the weather? What you call a sofa (or couch, or settee) what you call the toilet (or loo, or WC, etc) or a room (living room? drawing room? best room?) differentiates what class you grew up in. 

Outlive: The Science and Art of Longevity by Peter Attia

It was a gift from Kurt Schwartz. I ended up meeting Peter at Base Camp randomly as I was listening to it. He takes a pretty prescriptive approach to health & longevity, and it’s a lot unless you are really into it, but my takeaways:

There are four things that will kill you “in old age” - heart attack, diabetes, cancer, and dementia (I am intentionally oversimplifying his language). They are understood in roughly that order, so you can be pretty confident managing the first two(do these studies, take statins if needed, use a CGM, eat reasonably, exercise, sleep) and there’s fewer data as you go down the line.

Another takeaway from a conversation - auto accidents are a high % killer, and of those, fatal accidents are largely clustered around 1) getting t-boned at an intersection, 2) loss of control on high-speed two-lane (eg rural) roads, and 3) merging onto a high-speed road from a side road. Lizzie & I explicitly changed the route we take the kids to preschool from one that traversed a combination of 2 & 3 to one that did not as a result. (sadly, we then saw a fatal crash on our old route a few months later).

Fortitude: American Resilience in the Era of Outrage by Dan Crenshaw

He's a retired Navy SEAL who got blown up by an IED, lost one eye and some other function, and then recovered pretty amazingly. A pretty inspiring story. He had a better attitude and worked through it, then became a politician, which is less inspiring. It became about conservative versus progressive etc towards the end of the book, but otherwise, it was good.

My favorite quote: “Stop saying ‘I have to do X’ … when I was lying in a hospital bed and couldn’t see, I would have given anything to do X. I now make it a point to always say ‘I get to do X’ and it makes me a little more positive, and a little less grumpy, even about things I don’t really want to do”

[olivethetreebitch]

I lied, sleep has decided to abandon me.

Fuck it.

Agender Wild, goes with whatever pronouns doesn’t give a FAUK.

So I think the resurrection chamber stoped his body from aging, like, completely. Like time stoped for the body.

Like I absolutely love the elderich soul aus where Wild is not Link, but just inhabits the dead man’s Body??? Like that’s my fucking bread and BUTTER. MMM all the good flavors.

So Wild was not aware that she is in fact, part Gerudo due to a permanent curse on said body, the curse would eventually fade due to use over time but it never happened. Link went back first.

Wild, before being born, finds and kicks Ganandorfs ass, rightfully taking the triforce of power for itself (another headcanon is that only a Gerudo “male” or in other words “one of Ganon’s linage” (because all the males have been Ganon, so it’s another name for a male Gerudo) may hold the triforce of Power)

So. Wild has both the triforce of power and courage, basically sacrificing his timeline body to seal and break down the Malice (not to completely destroy it but anything helps) and becoming a spirit for a full 20 min before they wake up as Baby.

[cue epic music]

Also the Gerudo do not know about Wild’s existence, momma had some issues with the currant social norms that Gerudo were expected to hold so they left to travel.

Wild in this is actually a year younger (physically) then Zelda, so heheh there’s that.

Literally Wild is just the peak of the meme

“On god…

…..Please shut up….

…..Please.”

Every fucking time. Also is the peak of ADHD.

Uhhh Wild knows how to play a multitude of instruments, and knows a lot of languages (all the native languages and common, even some from outside the kingdom)

But he did not know Hyruleian until she met the chain, and they all took a turn trying to teach the gremlin…….

They have the most complicated and messy dialect of everyone. Flora tried to figure out where it is from, but couldn’t place it. Eventually Wild told her.

Wild refers to the 100 year old Zelda as Flora as she really learned how to stand on her own, and became a little (older?) sister to them. The currant young Zelda hasn’t quite fit into the role yet. (Maybe another name? Probably not. It’ll be a character growth thing. She needs to break through the trauma to even start assessing the damages)

Another thing on the Fierce thing: after the bbeg was defeated, there was this time where the entire group ended up in the holy/god realm as Time was getting the rundown the Chain met Hylia face to face, yes she’s their other mother other then Malon. Legend is like that grumpy kitten that’s sulking. He gets a hug don’t worry.

And because Wild is a priest, she can talk to any of the gods their close to, which includes the main three, Hylia, Time, Fierce, and the other Priests. (Sometimes Sun if he concentrates hard enough)

Which means when the king is digging into Zelda, Wild is over here side eyeing Hylia like “Bruh what do I do-“ and she’s like “Kick his ass” “not yet”

Wild is determined to help Zel in any way it can, be it through giving her flowers, reviving Terico (the egg, no I don’t know how to spell it), and just generally trying to make her life easier.

Wild also wants desperately to kidnap Zel and let her not only sleep, but actually teach her how to tap into the goddess.

(Healing first, then trust, then building up magic reserves, then doing actual shit)

Wild: [aggressively but also tenderly big siblings Zelda into having better mental heath]

Wild: I’m supposed to be the sad one! You get your own script!

Wild loves the champions, ace wild strikes again when it comes to Mipha, she kinda reminds him of Hyrule. So like….. no. Deruk is like a brother to him and he cares about- Urbosa he respects and reminds her of her mother. Rivali Wild has decided is not worth the energy at this point, and exclusively calls him Ravioli.

Ta daaa

[sposca]

hello my old heart by the oh hellos is langa in tfthkab. no i will not elaborate

[verobatto]

It's Always been You.

I love you

Destiel Meta. 15x18 meta.

Keeping the fire burning in our hearts, i can't believe what we just saw last night, and i have to keep screaming about this historical scene.

I wrote this meta with my friend's huge help @mrsaquaman187 , because we needed to talk more about body language. Because the scene was perfectly played by Jensen and Misha.

And i want to say thank you to my dearest friend @spnsmile because she made amazing gifs for this analysis. Love you girl!

Before start this meta, i want you to read a meta i wrote two years ago, and i want to share it again with you today.

Break the jar and do it again. The slow construction of Destiel Canon

Okay, now, let's start this journey...

Castiel's honesty at his purest form

I will analyze word by word, because this is historical, as I said before. So, let's rewatch the scene together, the scene in which Castiel released himself, and allowed for the first time, to be happy. (I want my angel back 😭).

“I always wondered, ever since I took that that burden, that curse, I wondered what it could be, what...what my true happiness could even look like. I never found an answer. Because the one thing I want...it's something I know I can't have."

Well, my friends, as I yelled in my Destiel meta you can find here, is canon now that Castiel was wondering what would it be to have Dean not just as a friend, but as a lover, and I'm.... Okay. (Internally screaming).

And damn @weird-dorky-little-deana and her post here in which I screamed again, this is it, my friends. Is perfect. Because is all along what I was suspecting... Remember 14x09, Pamela represented Dean's fem side, Dean's subconscious, so, in conclusion, Pamela was Dean talking to himself and saying :YOU WANT WHAT YOU CAN'T HAVE. Is because Dean thought CAS didn't love him back, and Cas saying he can't have Dean is a huge parallel because it shows the way it was constructed. Both men thinking they can't have each other. Is perfect and angsty and so romantic.

"But I think i know...I think I know now. Happiness isn't in the having. It's in just being. It's in just saying it.”

This is such a deep thought and it talks about Castiel's maturity of character. He understood once for all, that loving Dean Winchester, feeling what he feels for him, and expressing that to Dean, is his true happiness. Because...

METATRON: "(...) You draped yourself in the flag of Heaven, but ultimately, it was all about saving one human. Right?"

Dean didn't know it

Dean: “What are you talking about, man?”

Dean's question shows us he didn't know what Cas was trying to say, he didn't know Cas was about to confess his love for him, he didn't know Castiel loves him back the same way Dean loves him.

Cas: “I know. I know how you see yourself, Dean. You see yourself the same way our enemies see you. You're destructive and you're angry and you're broken. You're...you're 'Daddy's Blunt Instrument.' And you think hate and anger, that's...that's what drives you. That's who you are. It's not. And everyone who knows you sees it.

I just have to put everything in red because, OMG, people, this is Cas in the barn all over again but after 11 years of being with him and truly sees through him, and this is Cas in the golden room:

CASTIEL: What is so worth saving? I see nothing but pain here. I see inside you. I see your guilt, your anger, confusion.

This time answering himself, this time, healing all the weight and the pain Dean could carry inside. Because Dean deserves to be saved. That's why Cas gave his life again for him.

Even now, with Billie outside saying IT AS ALWAYS BEEN YOU, and naming him like the rebel, Cas rewords all of that, and shows Dean why he is all of that, because he is GOOD.

Oh Lord, okay, everytime I see Cas smiling and saying those words i have to repress my tears, but...

"Since Castiel laid a hand on you in Hell, he was lost!"

No, sister, he was found.

Castiel is rewording each bad comment or mocking angels had done based on his romantic love for Dean, he is saying , yes since I met you in Hell, i was found, you changed me, I fell for you. Damn... Dean go get back this angel because I swear...

But now, i want to share with you my friend reading about their body language on this scene.

@mrsaquaman187 wrote:

"Here is interesting because usually with conversations like these Dean would get upset or strut around then disagree and blame himself for something. BUT he doesn’t do that this time. Which leads me to believe he knew what Cas was going to say... you can see his face stiffen, intense eye contact and he clenches his jaw. Which tells me he is MAKING himself listen. He knows what’s coming and he has made the decision to HEAR it."

@mrsaquaman187 wrote:

Gif 1:

"Here he’s trying to hold it together. He’s swallowing back tears because he wants to see this conversation through to the end."

Gif 2:

"Oh this one is fascinating because he’s not moving. This means he’s no longer trying to be sure of what Cas is saying. He definitely knows what he’s going to say. Also if you look at his eyes, his pupils are dialated. Fun fact: when you’re looking at someone you love, your pupils dialate."

If you are still alive, i just want to point how romantic is this, because he is saying that Dean changed him for good. And he is naming all their family, Sam, Jack, and humanity, the world. Dean. So practically, Cas is saying, Dean showed Cas how to take care of others. Damn...

But also....

ISHIM: The way you let those simians talk to you... Castiel, when did you get so gooey? You know why we're meant to stay away from them humans? Hmm? It's not because we're a danger to them. They're a danger to us. Case in point.

CAS: Well, my friendship with Sam and Dean has made me stronger.

Castiel rewording again, because he knows what Dean did on him, Dean changed him for good.

I Love You

@mrsaquaman187 wrote:

Gif 1:

"Hmmm this one is a mixture of disappointment and denile...he’s basically thinking “you can’t be leaving me again”. His slow blinking and calm appearance indicates that he’s sort of asking out of disbelief or denial."

Gif 2:

"My poor boy had so much to say! Here you can tell he realizes what Cas was saying...he gets the meaning but can’t get his response out. He starts with the head tilt which signifies endearment and fondness. He swallows hard which represents the nervousness he feels and the sadness he feels. And then you can see his lips twitch and turn into a light smile along with his eyes softening. So he understands that Cas is confessing to loving him. And he understands that Cas has been holding it in and hurting the whole time. Which is why he tilts his head. The hard swallow is because he’s being loved but wants to love back and has no idea how to express that. All he could manage was “don’t do this Cas” which along with the body language equals to “Cas don’t leave me”.

I'm crying again, damn...

Okay Dean is shocked, shocked because he just figured out Cas loves him, Cas had loved him this whole time!! Is a huge, huge revelation to him, because Dean didn't imagine his best friend would feel the same for him! That's why he always thought he couldn't have Castiel the way he wanted to.

"I can see the love inside of you, but is croaked in shame."

Shame because it was his best friend, a pure, beautiful angel, out of his league. But now... This angel is confessing he had been in love with him the whole time! And not just that but he dies after that!

Dean losing again the love of his life after knowing he loved him back, is a new level of shock and despair to him. So Dean's reaction is just accurate and perfect!

And the scene crying alone in silence, not answering Sammy's phone call is SO SO IMPORTANT! He forgot about Chuck, about the world ending, about everything, because he only could think about Cas, and how he just lost him, and how he loves him the way Dean loves him, this whole freaking time.

To Conclude:

This was the most beautiful Destiel scene until now, and i only hope for the second Destiel canon scene, in which Dean will said I LOVE YOU TOO to his angel, closing his ILY journey, and rescuing Castiel. Maybe with the reset button, maybe entering into the Empty. But this is not the end, my friends, is just their starting.

Hugs! Love you all!

Tagging @metafest @gneisscastiel @emblue-sparks @magnificent-winged-beast @weird-dorky-little-deana @michyribeiro @whyjm @legendary-destiel @a-bit-of-influence @thatwitchydestielfan @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @lykanyouko @evvvissticante @savannadarkbaby @dea-stiel @mybonsai1976 @anarchiana @angelwithashotgunandtrenchcoat @trashblackrainbow @destielshipper221b @mishtho @dancingtuesdaymorning @feathered-castiel @bre95611 @zoerayne2426 @justmeand-myinsight @that-one-fandom-chick @proccastinate @studio-hatter @pepevons @poorreputation @mrsaquaman187 @dizzypinwheel @jawnlockwinchester @dwstiel @thislunarkiss @ladygon @shippsblog @la-random-fangirl @lets-try-this-again-please @mychemicalobsession514 @destiel-shipper-11

@asphodelesauvage @2musiclover2

Buenos Aires November 6th 8:54 PM

[totaldramamarching]

For the First Time in Over a Year, I Present to You: Oneshot Friday!

#6: The Delinquent, Part One

How did Duncan become a part of the marching band, anyways? Set two years before the current blog timeline. Thanks to @elskamo for the idea!

Duncan knew he was trouble. He caused problems on purpose, whether it be breaking school rules, petty vandalism, illegal driving… His list of offenses seemed endless. It wasn’t important that everything he did was clearly a thinly veiled cry for attention from his parents -- people hardly paid attention to that part. 

His parents tried to force him in every sport imaginable to keep him busy, but nothing clicked. He got in too many fights with the football players, popped too many soccer balls, cheated too many basketball games, antagonized too many track and fielders. Even with a parole officer enforcing Duncan’s attendance, Duncan still managed to sneak off and do all the troublesome things he wanted. For his parents, the school, the local police department, and the local juvie, it was a nightmare of an enigma.

And that enigma may or may not be why he was sitting in the principal’s office. 

“Mr. Sarno,” the principal said with great exasperation, “we’re enrolling you in the band program next year.”

“What!?” Duncan shouted, jumping from his seat. “No way! You can’t make me do that!”

“Yes, I can. Sit down,” the principal replied evenly. Duncan begrudgingly obeyed. “Your parents support the decision completely. It is by far one of our more time-consuming extracurriculars, and it will do well to teach you discipline. There’s no sidelines or benches in the marching band, Mr. Sarno. I’ve already talked to the head band director, and he is letting you play percussion.”

“Oh, wow. I’m so glad he’s ‘letting’ me play percussion. I don’t even get a choice in what instrument I play. What a great honor,” Duncan grumbled, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

“Furthermore,” the principal continued as if Duncan hadn’t spoken, “you will have lessons every day after school until Mr. McLean deems it appropriate to stop them.”

“Dude!”

“Mr. Sarno, the majority of your offenses occur directly after school hours. We are trying to steer your energy towards something productive; you are in no position to negotiate this. Your parole officer will have more travel details.”

And so sophomore year came, and with that came the first day of summer band, which was basically a way to eat up even more of his free time. Perfect. Just what he wanted: to spend more time with the band dweebs. 

He made his way into the band room, deliberately choosing to stand in the back. No one approached him, which was just as well, because he didn’t plan on talking to anyone anyways. He had his “scary face” on for a reason. All he wanted was to get in and out of here as fast as possible.

The band director gave a grand monologue like he was some reality TV show host, talking about the upcoming halftime show and the schedule and other nonsense that Duncan didn’t care to listen to. Suddenly, all the band nerds started to file out the door, and Duncan was sure he could make a break for it, until --

“Duncan Sarno.” He turned to see the head band director standing directly in front of him. “Mr. McLean. Pleasure to meet you, buddy.”

“Don’t call me ‘buddy’,” Duncan cut in.

“Got it,” Mr. McLean responded with the same tone of voice, no sharpness or anything. Hm. Duncan would have to work that out of him -- find a way to get kicked out as soon as possible.

“Anyways, you’ll meet the rest of the band in a second. I just want to show you some basic percussion stuff so you’re not totally lost when we start teaching percussion drumline audition music tomorrow.”

“I have to audition for shit?”

“Well, technically, anyways. I promised the principal you’d be as involved as possible, marching and all. So, you get a free ticket onto the drumline.”

“Lucky me,” Duncan mumbled coldly. 

But Mr. McLean ignored that and proceeded to set up some sort of drum, propping it up on a stand meant to hold it. Absentmindedly, Duncan kicked the stand just as Mr. McLean went to put the drum on it. Duncan smirked, hoping to make a few thousand dollars worth of damage to the drum, but Mr. McLean grabbed it by the bottom before it hit the floor, catching the falling stand with his foot. 

Without a word about Duncan’s behavior, Mr. McLean finished setting up the instrument. “This is a bass drum,” he said casually, “and these are mallets.” He gave Ducan two sticks with balls at the end of them. “You hold one in each hand, and use them to hit one side of the drum. Usually, you’ll never hit the same side twice in a row, you always alternate. Go ahead, give it a try.”

Turns out he could hit it pretty hard without it breaking -- nice to know. He hit it a little harder, and the sound echoed off various instruments in the room. Hm.

He raised his arms about a foot away from the heads of the drum, ready to strike with deadly force, but before he could, Mr. McLean swiped the mallets from his hands. Oddly enough, he was not met with a scowl or a scold, but a smile. 

“It’s gonna take a lot to make me kick you out of this band, you know,” Mr. McLean said smugly.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll just break stuff while we’re not practicing, and you’ll want me out before the first game.”

“You won’t have time.”

Duncan raised his brow. “Then I just won’t do anything.”

Chris shrugged. “You’ll get run over by a sousaphone.”

“I’ll put in the minimum effort.”

“Half the band does that anyway, so it’s not really rebellious.”

“I’ll do things wrong on purpose to mess up the show!”

“We can put you on front ensemble and give you no parts, and stick you next to a section leader to boot.” 

“Thought you promised the principal I had to march?”

“Look,” Mr. McLean’s voice grew serious, “if you want this to be a big waste of time, then that’s up to you. I’m not opposed to making you stand in front of an instrument table where the section leader will smack you every time you reach for something. But I want this to be a good experience for you, okay? Not just to keep you out of juvie, but to give you something that you want to do. A good pastime. I don’t care how many times you’ve almost been expelled or how many fights you’ve gotten into, with my students even -- I am not giving up on you. Got it?”

Duncan stared at Chris with narrowed eyes. That was most definitely a lie he’d heard from teachers time and time again. “Yeah, whatever,” Duncan muttered, and Mr. McLean simply continued going over sheet music and drums like there was no bite in Duncan’s voice.

True to his word, though, Mr. McLean proved time and time again that he’d never give up on Duncan.

Maybe Duncan let optimism get to him. Maybe he stopped trying to get attention by petty delinquency. Maybe he let the band room feel like home, and maybe he made a few friends here and there -- it wasn’t important. He’d do something to get out of this, just like he did with everything else. He’d find out what Mr. McLean’s limit was and skyrocket past it, earning him a one way ticket out of the Wawanakwa High School band program.

But maybe that was it. Maybe he didn’t want to figure out what the limit was this time. Maybe he didn’t want to leave.

Unfortunately, life wouldn’t let Duncan enjoy something for long.

To be continued…

[thiswasinevitableid]

For the meet ugly prompts, 02 indruck?

Here you go! I went SFW on this one and interpreted the prompt kind of broadly. It's set in the same world as this Sternclay prompt

Fun fact: there is a fire lookout in the Monogahela, but the structure I describe is based on more elaborate ones elsewhere

02. I bought a house three months ago but I’m finally moving in and discover you’ve been squatting because you’re homeless

Only in Duck’s life would “dream job” and “months alone in the woods” be equivalent.

The Bickle Nob Fire Lookout is a coveted position, and Duck is pretty fucking flattered they chose him as the ranger for July and August. He took the high clearance off-roader to get here, he’s got his bags full of everything he needs not to die of boredom (or anything else) and his schedule of supply drops. He’s as ready as can be and so fucking excited when he opens the door of the wide-windowed cabin.

Then he jumps back, startled to find a skinny, silver-haired man asleep on the floor.

“Uh, sir? This site is off-limits to visitors.”

The man wakes up in a series of catastrophic movements; he bangs into the wall, tangles in his blanket, and nearly stumbles out the window when he manages to stand.

“I, I’m sorry, I didn’t foresee anyone coming here.”

“Department spent all of June arguin’ about whether it was worth allocatin funds for this, so that’s why the place was empty. Fire up North two weeks ago scared ‘em enough to send me up here.” Duck explains with a casual smile; after all, even if he’s way off the trail, there’s no reason to assume this guy is out to cause trouble, “if you got lost hikin, I’m happy to radio down and ask for someone to come get you and take you back to your camp.”

“Nono, I, ah, I’m not lost. One needs to have a destination to be lost.”

“O-kay. Uh, well, whatever you’re lookin for, I’m afraid this ain’t it. This buildin is for the fire lookout only.”

“I promise I’ll be very unobtrusive. I even have my own supplies, you won’t have to worry about me in the slightest.” The man smiles,opening one of his two bags to show it crammed with shiny packets of food.

Duck shakes his head, “Can’t do it, sorry. I’m serious though, if you need a ride into town I can get a hold of someone who can help. Maybe, uh, you could find whatever you’re lookin for there?”

“No” the man sags, but begins zipping up his bags, “I do not think I will find it there. I am sorry for intruding.” He steps out the door, turning towards the deeper woods on the western slope.

“You need a map?” Duck calls. The man doesn’t so much as look over his shoulder.

Duck unpacks as much as he can, checks the weather station and notes the readings suggest those thunderheads on the far horizon are coming his way. By dinnertime, they’re right on top of him, rain pattering on the roof and thunder rattling the windows. He’s scanning the trees when he spots a metallic flash, not of lightning but of silver hair. His mystery visitor is huddled under a tree, wind forcing the hood of his raincoat back over and over again.

The rules and regulations in the forest are there to keep the environment and visitors safe. If something doesn’t violate those basic requirements, Duck sees no reason not to bend them.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

“I really cannot stress how grateful I am that you allowed me back in.” The visitor, who introduced himself as Indrid, finishes packing their scant trash into the can, “I promise that as soon as the storm passes I’ll leave you be.”

“Yeah, about that.” Duck scratches the back of his neck, “you really don’t got anywhere to call home, do you?”

Indrid opens his mouth. Duck stares, pointedly, at the holes in his white shirt and the worn shoes sticking out from frayed jeans.

“....No, I do not.”

“In that case, you stay here the next two months, on two conditions: one, you don’t get in the way of me doin what I’m here to do. Two, you don’t tell anyone I let you do this. Deal?”

“Yes, yes absolutely” Indrid shakes his hand, bouncing up and down a bit, “thank you so much. You will barely know I’m here.”

This turns out to be completely true and utterly false.

Indrid does keep to himself most of the day; he draws, reads, lays in the sun outside the cabin and generally stays out of Ducks way while he’s working. But he’s also the person who sits and jokes with him during meals, who eagerly follows Duck’s hand when he points out interesting birds or plants, and watches intently when Duck reads his instruments.

He never thought he could live in a fifteen by fifteen foot space with another person and not have a full head of grey by the end of it. Indrid Cold is the exception that proves the rule, Duck certain he’ll never be able to be cooped up with anyone but Indrid ever again.

It helps that he still gets his quiet time; Indrid will got out for walks, even watches for smoke so Duck can do the same. They use the wild foraging guide and Duck’s knowledge of local plants to bring back extra food. Indrid was particularly pleased when he located some wild blackberries. When Duck reminded him to watch out for bears near the berry patch, Indrid simply smirked and said there was only one bear on the mountain who could get him.

Duck’s daydreaming of what Indrid might do if caught on his way back from a dusk walk. And, more urgently, how he can convince Indrid that he wants to sleep outside tomorrow night. So it takes two tries of the front door before he notices it’s locked.

“Indrid?” he knocks, “you in there?” Stepping back, he finds the windows hastily covered by his bedsheets and blankets. He knocks harder, “that’s real fuckin dangerous, if there’s a fire we won’t see it. ‘Drid! Open the damn door!”

He continues banging, unanswered, as the moon--two days from full--rises above.

--------------------------------------

Indrid covers his ears to block out Duck’s increasingly worried shouts from outside. This is the right choice, the best of a bad bunch; it will keep Duck and anyone else nearby safe. The ranger will probably turn him away come morning, rightly furious at his irrationality. Indrid resolves not to argue with him; he’ll slink back into the trees, just like he did the last time someone threw him out for his transgressions.

It starts in his chest, his heartbeat climbing to marathon speeds in spite of him holding still. Then his skin prickles, silver hair sprouting from every follicle, followed by his back bowing in pain and his jaw elongating with a crack. From there the adrenaline kicks in, flooding his body so the transformation doesn’t render him unconscious (and therefore helpless) with pain. When next he raises his head, a werewolf with glowing, red eyes looks back at him from the darkened windows.

Beyond the covered windows, someone howls. Then he scents it, another of his kind coming dangerously close. He has to go out, he can’t leave Duck out there with something that will rip him apart, surely he likes the human enough for his mind to see him as a friend, not prey-

CRACK

The door splinters off its hinges; he growls, ready to defend his home. A deeper growl answers him as a larger wolf, black-furred and yellow eyed, stalks across the threshold.

“What. the. Fuck?” the newcomer snaps, “I told you, you can only stay if you don’t fuck up my work and locking me out comes real fuckin close to that!”

He cocks his head “Duck?”

“No, I’m the fuckin president of the united states.”

“I, I’m so sorry.” Indrid drops to all fours, then flattens to his belly just to be safe, “I didn’t know, I just wanted to be sure I wouldn’t hurt you.”

Duck points to the broken door, “you coulda just done that from the opposite side and I woulda been dinner.”

“No I, I know that if I confine myself I tend to be...calmer. I don’t get overstimulated and then agitated.”

“You coulda just told me. Lockin me out is real rude.”

Indrid whines, crawls close enough to nose at him.

“You don’t gotta do that; I ain't assertin dominance or some shit, I’m just a little annoyed.”

He whines again, “please don’t make me leave.”

“I won’t.” Duck’s voice turns softer.

“And you will not get angry at me for not being appropriately grateful for your leniency?”

Duck frowns, “Aw jesus, did you come from one of those old-school packs?

“Yes” Indrid grumbles, hating himself for how easily he fell into manners he loathes, how deep the teachings of his home run.

Duck eases him up so they’re both sitting, then noses the side of his face, “We don't do that around here. Least, I don't. I don’t spend a ton of time with most of the other Weres when they’re wolfed-out, but they ain’t big on tradition and hierarchy the rest of the time.”

“Ah. That’s, that’s good.”

The other Were stretches, stands and pads about the room, removing the make-shift curtains, “You gotta teach me how you’re so fuckin accurate on when the moon is full enough to make us shift whether or not we want to; I thought I had a day left. I, uh, I was gonna ask you to sleep in here while I ‘slept under the stars’ so you wouldn’t know.”

“You’re not afraid of hurting someone?”

“Nah, especially not this far out. Sometimes I hunt deer, but whatever strain of this I got doesn’t go feral unless some shit goes majorly wrong.” He drops the blankets on the floor, “don’t know about you, but I don’t feel like huntin tonight. Or stargazin. I’m beat from work.”

“Agreed. Transforming against my will always makes me tired.”

Duck lays down on the floor,yawns, “In that case: sleep tight ‘Drid.”

Indrid tries to do just that. But every time he catches Duck’s scent he wishes he could move closer to him, then remembers that would be rude, and continues in that back and forth until he’s wide awake. It doesn’t help that his Were form runs cold; he’s shivering in spite of it still being close to eighty degrees.

His ears flick at Duck’s footfalls. Then a warm, bulky frame curls around his freezing, lanky one.

“This okay?” Duck carefully drapes an arm over him.

Indrid sighs, feeling safer than he has in a year, “better than.”

---------------------------------------------------------

“I’m a seer.”

Duck looks up from his breakfast, mouth full but question clear.

“Last night, you asked me how I knew we’d transform. Seeing the future makes it rather easy.”

“Damn, that does sound handy.”

“In many ways it is. Though it carries some, ah, some downsides.” Indrid steers his thoughts towards safer paths, “If you’d like, I could use it to help you with the fire lookout.”

The ranger grins, the expression twice as warm as his fur the night before, “That’d be fuckin great.”

Indrid smiles back, keeps his eyes on the windows so as not to look longingly back at the rumpled sheets. They awoke this morning in a heap, Duck’s modesty preserved only by a blanket and Indrid’s hair stuck in all directions. He’d been ready to apologize for not moving away before dawn, but Duck simply reached out, stroked his hair down, and asked if he wanted coffee.

-------------------------------------------------

“You’re right, you can see more animals this way.” They’re perched, fully transformed, on the rocks outside the cabin. Indrid knows how to use his night vision for hunting, but Duck is teaching him how to use it for more peaceful matters.

“Yeah, long as you stay put most animals get up the nerve to nose around some.”

They’d transformed side by side, Duck banging his head in the process. Indrid licked near the bruise and made soothing, sympathetic sounds when Duck whined and cursed his luck. Back home, being demonstrative was frowned upon; here, Duck seems to always be casually bumping their bodies together.

When they go to bed several hours after moonrise, they curl up side by side without hesitation. It’s so very easy to tune out his visions when Duck is near and Indrid falls asleep while the ranger is still whispering about the birds they can hear.

He wakes up an hour later in a panic, disasters of visions past tearing through his mind.

“‘Drid? What’s wrong?” Duck noses the base of his neck.

“Nothing. Just a bad dream.” He closes his eyes, tries to focus on Duck’s scent, his breath, the wind in the trees, but still the ghosts of his memories lurk in the corners of his vision.

“Can I try somethin?” Duck murmurs. Indrid thought he’d gone back to sleep.

“Of course.”

Teeth tenderly and ever so carefully clamp the fur and skin of his neck. He goes limp in one breath. He was high status enough that no one ever did this to him, but goodness does he wish they had

The ranger let’s go, “Do I need to do it again?”

“Please.”

Duck obliges and Indrid whimpers, melting shamelessly in his arms.

“Thank you. I think I can sleep now.”

“Any time, ‘Drid. Uh, before you, uh, go to sleep there’s somethin I wanna ask you. Since you need a place to stay, do you, uh, wanna stay with me? In Kepler.”

“You’d really like that? You, if this is out of pity-”

“It ain’t.”

There were no futures where it was. Indrid wanted to hear the words all the same.

“Besides” Duck nuzzles him, “we already know we make damn good roommates.”

Indrid can’t help it; he howls, brief and joyful, safe in the knowledge that Duck will be ready with a laugh and a kiss in reply.

[thebadchoicemachine]

Yall want some MYCT Magnus Archive Headcanons I may or may not draw? (Pt 1?)

I will try to include individual trigger warnings at the beginning of each explanation as much as I can think of. They may seem a little overboard but better safe than sorry. Remember, TMA is a horror podcast. 

(ALSO, EVERYTHING HERE IS /RP. EVEN WHEN I’M NOT TALKING ABOUT A ROLEPLAY VIDEO PLEASE KNOW I’M MAKING UP A CHARACTER BASED OFF THEIR CHANNEL AND AM NOT ACTUALLY ACCUSING THEM OF BEING A SERVANT TO A MALEVOLENT FEAR ENTITY.)

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Philza 

1. An End Avatar (TW, Numb/Apathetic Mindset)

He’s a reaper. An immortal. You only live once but life’s become, not meaningless, more like desaturated. He doesn’t care in a cheery “oh well” way. He’s pretty chill about it. He’s extremely chill about it. He is disturbingly chill about it. At first it seems great, he’s just a nice chill guy! No evil schemes or vicious plots. Just spending time with him seems to calm your nerves. And then you spend more time and you begin to understand why, things aren’t as important as you make them seem. You catastrophize a lot. Then a catastrophe happens and you’re not... upset. Why... why would you be? It doesn’t matter. It really doesn’t. It won’t in a hundred years and it doesn’t now. would end the same anyways. And then he starts to be less and less relatable. Why is he so happy? Why does he bother to go meet people and smile and eat or laugh or frown. You can’t belive you ever complained that he was so mild about everything, any amount is more than is worth. Why bother? Why... bother...

2. A Vast Avatar (TW, Heights?)

He just fucking tosses people into the sky instead of being upset with them. Do anything he doesn’t like? SWOOSH. It’s to the point it’s not even a malicious thing, it’s just routine. He gets up, goes to the store, picks up some groceries, sends a person who cut in line to a void of dusk with swirling black clouds where you fall so long you can’t tell if you’re flying up or down or left or right, maybe gets some mints, goes home, puts groceries away, does the dishes, etc. 

(the rest of the cast below the cut)

Tubbo

1. A Corruption Avatar (TW, Body Horror Surrounding Lungs, Swarming Insects, Implied Murder.) 

He has bees in his lungs and he loves them very much. If he ever gets something stuck in his throat or has water go down the wrong pipe he will FEAK OUT. He often has to cough up honey (and sometimes bees). It’s... a process. He just sits over a bucket or jar and hacks his little heart out. He sometimes saves the honey and offers it to people. Amazingly, his friends never take him up on the offer. Unsuspecting people who don’t know the.. supernatural origin of the honey find they have some... unpleasant side effects. (Bees. The side effect is bees. Specifically ones trying to fly down their throat.) Oh well, being a part of a hive isn’t for everyone. The really unfortunate ones make good fertilizer for his flowers, though! His lungs are literally a hive. If you tried to listen to his heartbeat you’d hear buzzing. He will sometimes hold flowers over his open mouth to let the bees get some easy pollon. He doesn’t usually actively seek out “prey” but when he is trying to feed on that good old fear he’ll act super sweet, too sweet, and then open his mouth and let the bees fly out. It’s very creepy but to him it’s just funny. (Also, all of the bees have names and he has a funeral for every single one that get’s killed.)

Quackity

1. A Spiral Avatar

I- I mean have you seen a single one of his videos?

2. A Stranger Avatar (TW, Unreality Depersonalization )

He mocks people as their own reflection, hopping from pond to mirror to camera to scream at them (sometimes literally) that they do not know who they are. It starts off subtle (Wasn’t your hair a bit longer? Weren’t your eyes a shade lighter? Did you always have that birthmark?”) but grows and changes until it gets to the point you stand in front of a mirror and every time you blink you look completely different. You feel your face, you look at your hands, but it’s no help. They change too fast. Your pictures change too, every single post on all your social media looks like different people posted it- wait... did you always have this platform? You don’t remember ever using it before. You have so many posts... none of them match up. You throw your phone away, noticing you never had the case on it. You turn to real photos for help but they are none. Of course not. You feel like just giving up as you shuffle through photo after photo, you don’t know what you really look like, so what? But then something catches your eye. A photo of you in the 5th grade concert. You don’t remember going to that school. You’ve never played an instrument, have you? Something screams yes and no at the same time. You throw the box down and grab your phone. You need to call someone. You pace throughout a house you recognize less and less searching for clues, reminders, as the phone rings. Your best friend answers. You throw the phone down again. You don’t have a best friend. You’ve never really been one for friends. No, that’s not true, you had a few really good ones but you’ve grown apart. No, that’s not true, you only have one real friend, your boyfriend. No, you don’t have a boyfriend, just a close friend. No, you have many friends just none that are close enough for this bullshit. You stop. No. No you don’t like swearing, do you? Do you? Who are you? Who are you? Your reflection laughs. It’s eating popcorn and making you do a stupid dance. What a bitch.

3. A Flesh Avatar (TW, Body Horror Surrounding Faces and Skin)

You’re a piece of meat, he’s a piece of meat, everyone’s meat. Like Chicken Nuggets.He’ll steal your face right off it’s skull and dance with one in each hand. He’ll put words in your mouth like you’re a puppet with bones. He’ll make you say the dumbest shit because it’s funny. Even when it’s obviously not YOU talking. 

Technoblade 

1.  A Hunt Avatar (TW, Stalking/Genocide) 

Many people have suggested a slaughter avatar but I don’t see it. Yeah, he kills (blood for the blood god and all that) but I don’t see it. The Slaughter is about the moment. The unplanned snap. The sudden outbursts. I don’t see that in techno. You know what I DO see that also involves quite a bit of bloodlust? The chase. The planning, the target, the unstoppable dread and panic that overtakes his victims once they realize who is after them. The power. Calculated genocide of victim after victim. The HUNT. My two pain points of evidence: His potato war videos, that time he took over the world, and his stalking speech to Quackity. Go watch an animatic of Technoblade chasing down Quackity and tell me he is not a Hunt Avatar. 

Wilbur

1. A Desolation Avatar (TW, Abuse/Torture)

Everything he touches burns and hurts. Sometimes it’s on purpose, sometimes on accident, but either way he’s caught up in enjoying the drama. I’m gonna be honest, my main inspiration was the Villainbur aesthetic but the more I thought about it the more it made sense. Look at nearly any of his 100 player videos; designed to create maximum pain for hs enjoyment. Even the Dream SMP where he was mostly a good guy and more tragic than anything else fits. Maybe that Villain Arc was his first dabble as an avatar of destruction and pain. Even making his own father kill him could have been along the lines of “how can I milk as much despair out of this as possible.”

TommyInnit

1. A Slaughter Avatar (TW, Straight Up Murder)

Now HERE is a character right up that slaughter’s alley. No thoughts, not plans, just unbridled passion and rage and violence. He just stabs people whenever he feels like it (which is often) sometimes just with sticks. Like a rabid raccoon just jumps straight at people’s faces out of nowhere, always starting shit and stoking fires to make people angry at each other. 

2. A Buried Avatar (TW, small tight spaces)

Tunnels and caves and sticks and spots. He’ll burry you under a mountain, he’ll lock you in a tree. Dirt man. His usual MO is trapping people under an avalanche of stones and rocks and rubble. Basically just lava casting your bones. Everything he makes is ugly but not just in a ”that’s literally a pile of rocks in the middle of the road” way in a bit of an indescribable “looking at that makes me feel like I’m breathing in straight gravel.” 

Bonus: Ranboo as a Dark Avatar/Victim. He is not a willing avatar like Jude or Helen, he’s more along the lines of Oliver and Jon.

[yanderepuck]

The mansion in the 21st century

For the sake of our sanity we are going assume they are all still alive in the 21st century since we don't know when everyone was turned (just that Will was first)

We're also gonna pretend that Sebas is still around(I don't think he'd accept being a vampire???? But for the sake of this he's gonna be here)

Arthur is his full whore self and is with guys and gals. He put the bi in bitch

Leonardo is also bi(historically there's no record of him ever being with a woman)

Imagine the shit posts on social media

Arthur has an Instagram and he posts about everyone's life, even using their names, but no one takes it series

A few times a week Arthur does something called "where is Leonardo sleeping today?"

Vincent uses tiktok for art

Theo has been able to get in contact with more artists all over and be able to sell their art. It's made it a lot easier for him and even though it's a lot more work he enjoys it

Dazai is also a shit poster, only he asks weird things that keep you up at night

But Dazai also publishes short stories. Probs has a blog.

I could also see Dazai basically running an animal shelter in the back yard. He gives off Disney princess vibes. Only it's like ducks, a bunch of birds. A horse or two and some sheep.

Will has probably moved back into the mansion since everything he has done has been forgotten by society.

He finds it odd how kids in schools study is plays and have to analyze it. He's just like "everyone's gay and every other line is a dick joke???" But he still doesn't speak normal.

LEONARDO GOT BACK INTO PAINTING.

Leonardo and Vinc would both have a tik tok and Instagram to show off their work and their hella popular

Isaac wanted to keep a low profile, but since the internet isn't face to face with people, he's able to publish his findings without having to actually deal with society. He's just social awkward okay

Sebastian also has a blog. He calls everyone his roommates and he's like "you'll never guess what my roommate did today"

Arthur collects mugs.

During that Italian hand meme, everyone paid more attention to Leonardo to see how often he does it

He does it too often and he doesn’t realize it

At some point Dazai HAS yelled “DO IT FOR THE VINE”

He was probably yelling at Theo

Want to know whats really dangerous?

Shakespeare learning modern slang

No one in the mansion knows what he’s talking about in the first place.  Then suddenly he goes “For never was a story of more woe.  O bard Alexa, play us  Despacito”(I will not take credit for that.  I remember reading that phrase LONG ago)

Isaac says “Me” “Same” and “Mood” a lot

He sees garbage on the ground and goes “It’s me”

Dazai is into anime don’t @ me

Also. Napoleon is also bi as all hell

Drunk or not him and Sebas have made lip contact at least once

Imagine what Mozart could do with music now.

He still loves his piano.  Nothing is better than physically playing an instrument

He probs went viral for a hot minute when Arthur posted a video of him playing piano

Comte is even more of a tired mom.

HE’D SO BE A PINTEREST PERSON

You know how people make board for their friends?

He does that with everyone in the mansion

I honestly know nothing about Jean and Napoleon.  I’m sorry for their lack of content. Plz add things for them.

Imagine everyone playing Mario Kart

Not every week because they all have lives outside the mansion.  But at least once a month they have a game night

None of them are really TV people.  They’ll watch movies but that’s about it

They’d all watch documentaries on themselves, and point out everything that is wrong, and even be like “where the fuck did they get that from?”

Because I have watched documentaries on him.  Often a Da Vinci documentary will mention was arrest with sleeping with another guy.  The rest of the guys are waiting for him to call that  bullshit and he’s just sitting there eating popcorn.

Meanwhile Will is in the back like “Eyy! Me too!”

“Did that really happen?”

“What?  Me getting arrested?  Yeah”

“No, well yes, but did you sleep with another guy?”

“Yeah”

“Was he worth it?”

“I don’t know which one their talking about”

Chaotic bisexuals everywhere

Arthur however has watched the BBC Sherlock series. 

Arthur and Dazai would probs watch the most tv out of all of them.

I say this cause Dazai would be into anime and Arthur got hooked on NCIS

Arthur write quite a bit of short stories that he’s gotten published

Will would love that goddamn Leonardo DiCaprio version of Romeo and Juliet.  I hate that movie with a passion

Also, I can’t imagine how many jokes they’ve managed to come up with about Leonardo DiCaprio to Leonardo.

If Arthur and Mozart can stay up for days with coffee, imagine what an energy drink would do to them

All of them in modern fashion???? HOT DAMN

Will likes the Titanic 

I see Theo being the one that’s into MARVEL and DC movies

Imagine showing Vinc Bob Ross

Leonardo and Isaac are Tony Stark(Ironman) and Bruce Banner(Hulk)

Everyone in the mansion is into conspiracy theories .

Comte himself is a conspiracy theory 

One night Napoleon is like “Guys.  Look.  Aliens” and they all watch conspiracy theory videos.

It’s the one thing they can all agree on that they have in common

Vinc and Leonardo also enjoy pinterest  because of all the art/crafting/diy things they find.

Arthur 100% listens to ebooks

THE MANSION IS A POKEMON GO GYM.  But they aren’t all on the same team so battling can get serious some days

They all still have pets

Honestly.  At any point in time, not just modern.  They made fun of each others accents.

Lets be real.  Will would end up liking anime too

SNapchat filters on the guys??  The dog filter on Theo??? Flower crown on Vinc???  Face swapping everyone with everyone???

One of them is bound to have a candle obsession and I want to say its Comte.  Only he buys them and doesn’t burn them.  Sebas ends up slowly taking candles from the stash and burning them in a few rooms.

The music room smells like chocolate but Mozart can’t find the candle.

Leonardo's room is even more cluttered.  He has too many hobbies.

Vinc making his own paint???  I’d love.

Theo and Arthur cried a little when their favorite bar shut down.

Masterlist

[une-nuit-pour-se-souvenir]

WHERE IS THE REST?

After “Fire Cannot Kill a Dragon” came out, it has come to our knowledge that Stannis will be burning Shireen in the books as well. It was revealed somewhere last summer that Jorah and Grey Worm were supposed to betray Danerys, but then they changed their mind about it.

This isn’t special on its own, but it is once you notice that all of this was hard-coded into the GoT’s foreshadowing a long time ago, for example through transition scenes... yet they dropped plots and cherry picked fanservice what they wanted for the final season.

it’s angering “fun” to see what they foreshadowed through those transition scenes, what made it and what didn’t made it. In specific, D&D have said transition scenes were important, because they say something about them. I cannot find the proper citation for this, but it’s common knowledge.

What I’ll write next is only for ONE episode, but this exercise can be made in SEVERAL episodes, this isn’t an isolated case by any means. (the following is a repurpose of an earlier post I made for this matter and i only have paint ATM, which is why the graphics are so shitty).

S03E01: Valar Dohaeris

Danerys is sailing through the Summer Sea while she watches the dragons fishing. While she’s fond of them, she doesn’t think they’re enough to conquer the Iron Throne so she wants an army. Jorah suggests she buys Unsullied and while she doesn’t like the idea at first because they’re slaves, she eventually relents as she believes it’s mecessary. Later, she arrives in Astapor and tours the Unsullied barracks.

There are two Danerys’ scenes in Valar Dohaeris, which are preceeded and followed by other adjacent scenes which characterise Danerys’ motivations during her stay at Astapor by contrast and parallels. Below, I enclose the scene transtion schematics.

[3] Sansa with Shae in King’s Landing port watching the ships.

[*] Danerys sailing the seas and beng suggested the Unsullied.

[4] Davos confronts Stannis about Melisandre burning people..

[5] The Tyrell siblings and Cersei / Joffrey having dinner where they discuss Margaery’s charity.

[*] Danerys arrives at Astapor and tours the Unsullied barracks.

[3] Sansa is powerlessly watching ships at the port, wishing one of them would take her away from captivity. This is followed by a contrast, Danerys is on a ship doing whatever she wants and going wherever she wants. Danerys and Sansa are foils.

Shae and Sansa play a game about where the ships come from and where they go. At some point, Littlefinger comes to talk to Sansa, promising to take her away

Remember this one for later.

In the show, Ros tells Shae that Sansa’s birth was a joyous day, where the bells were rung from sunrise to sunset. In the books (the equivalent chapter where Danerys sails the seas), Danerys recalls her own birth was during a storm which destroyed her father’s ships. Much later in the show (season 7), Danerys’ birth is brought up again, it’s mentioned that she was born during a storm and the dogs barked the entire night.

There is a clear contrast between these two characters births according to the show canon. Sansa was born and there was joyful bell ringing during the entire day, while Danerys was born and there was ominous barking dogs during the entire night. Take note that the foreboding for Danerys is in the books’ canon as well, as the storm raged all night and destroyed the Targaryen ships.

Sansa cannot go home because she’s a prisoner with no power (no movement), while Danerys is sailing free and returning home because she’s free with power via the dragons (movement).

There is a clear contrast between these two character in agency and power as well, which also translates into how they rule. Sansa is a prisoner that had to learn politics and how to play the game of thrones because she had no dragons to rise to power, while Danerys is free after she births the dragons so she never learnt either because the dragons gave her power.

Danerys doesn’t think the dragons enough to get the Iron Throne and wants an army. Jorah suggests to buy Unsullied and Danerys decides that she will get them. This is followed by [4] Davos confronting Stannis for allowing Melisandre to sentence those that oppose them to burning alive, but Stannis justifies this as necessary for the war he’s fighting. Stannis (through Melisandre) and Danerys as parallels, basically Stannis (through Melisandre) is Danerys on dragon steroids LITE. Stannis and Danerys have many adjacent scenes for this reason (for example, walking into the fire, threatening to burn people, activelly burning people, and so forth...)

Stannis confronts Stannis after he’s informed by Salladhor Saan (earlier in the episode) that Stannis follows what Melisandre tells him to do due to the prophecies she sees in the fire. In parallel, (in the books) Danerys follows what she sees in dragon (fire) dreams and other prophecies as well.

Stannis (through Melisandre) and Danerys both follow prophecies that are associated with fire, which are interpretated to suit their narcissistic delusions of grandeur. The magic is real, the meaning they gave them is not.

Melisandre is said to sing to her enemies as they burned, while (in the books) Danerys is said to “sing” while she commmands the dragons to burn the Unsullied masters (yes, this very story segment we’re on!).

Melisandre asks if Davos remembers all those men burning and yelling for their mothers, while Danerys burns every master in Astapor (including what’s basically children, as she says anyone over the age of 14)

Melisandre is called the “mother of monsters” for creating the shadow assassin through blood magic, while Danerys is called the “mother of dragons” for creating the dragons through blood magic, both using these fire magic instruments against their enemies.

Melisandre and Danerys blood magics are both characterised negatively. As a sidenote, Melisandre’s blood magic is sex and burning blood, while Danerys’ blood magic is burning others. In reality, it’s all the same shit, Melisandre’s sex “equals” to life (conception) and she made the shadow baby (subtle) and Danerys killed three lives for the dragons. Only death can pay for life.

Stannis isn’t so keen on burning prisoners and enemies, but does because he believes it to be justice against the infidels and what’s necessary to win the Iron Throne. In parallel, Danerys isn’t so keen on buying the Unsullied, but she burns the masters because she believes it’s justice and believes them necessary to win the Iron Throne.

Stannis and Danerys may both dislike abhorrent behaviour, but they engage in it regardless because they believe it necessary to achieve their objectes. Theis trend escalates from acceptable targets (the Faith of the Seven statues or Viserys) to uncceptable targets (prisoners of war that oppose them), until it’s unsustainable (Shireen or the citizens of King’s Landing) and then someone kills them. It’s worth noting that in the books, Jorah suggests the Unsullied and Danerys doesn’t even give a shit that they are slaves, getting excited with the idea instead.

[5] Margaery gives food to the poor. After, the Tyrell siblings have dinner with Joffrey and Cersei where they discuss Margaery’s charity, with Cersei implying it’s not genuine. This is followed by Danerys touring the Unsullied barracks, where she notes Kraznys being a dick to the Unsullied, which she later uses an excuse as to why she freed them, bt this isn’t genuine. Danerys and Margaery are (in hindsight) parallels.

Margaery does charity not for altruistic reasons, but because she wants to gain power by currying favour through the people’s support. Likewise, Danerys frees the Unsullied not because she cares about freedom (remember, she wanted to buy them regardless), but because she has no money to buy them and wants good publicity.

Margaery and Danerys are both dishonest about their real motivations for doing good deeds, because they’re basically just publicity stunts to harnass support and power. On one hand, when Margaery is taken by the Faith of the Seven, she eventually admits that she never cared about the poor and in fact hated them, but did what she did for power. On the other hand, when Danerys negotiates with Kraznys, she realises she has no money to buy them and makes sure they’ll follow for sure before dropping the dragon, only after she’s convinced by the dispute between Barristan advocating Rhaegar was loved and that’s why others followed him versus Jorah advocating that Rhaegar was honest and that’s why he died.

Margaery is dressed through these scenes in a similar way as Danerys when she’s pandering to the same “soft-power” tactics.

Good so far? Let’s rewind.

Danerys and Sansa are foils.

Sansa cannot go home because she’s a prisoner with no power (no movement), while Danerys is sailing free and returning home because she’s free with power via the dragons (movement).

Sansa adquires a “dragon” in season 6. He’s not the mythological beast proper, but her cousin Jon Snow, who’s secretely a Targaryen and therefore the “blood of the dragon”. Such, one of Jon’s narrative purposes for Sansa is the same as the dragons for Danerys, Jon’s there to protect and power Sansa, to take her home when others couldn’t or wouldn’t.

Jon protecting Sansa happens from the moment they reunite, as he vows to look after her and not leave her from that point forward (Ned haunting him is just a joke, as in show canon Jon doesn’t believe there’s anything beyond death, as he saw nothing when he did). So Jon protects Sansa from Ramsay and Littlefinger, gets angry on her behalf against Tyrion and Theon, there’s an unexplicable hiatus where he's a different character (what happened?), but at the end Jon returns to character and kills Danerys to protect Sansa.

Jon empowering Sansa, not so much. Jon accepts being King in the North instead of making Sansa the Queen in the North... until the very end and in this King’s Landing port (what were D&D indireectly saying that they wouldn’t say directly?)... where Jon forsakes being King in the North (even though that’s dumb, since he’s in jail now) and names Sansa the Queen in the North instead. It was done late and contrived (Jon has been convicted to “jail”, he could never be king again), but the correct foreshadowing was played straight neverhteless.

Sansa asks Littlefinger to take her home and he says that it’ll be treason since she’s property of the crown, but then promises he’ll try to smuggle her on a ship but she needs to be ready to flee.

Littlefinger doesn’t take Sansa home, he takes her to the Eyrie instead. In the books, Sansa accuses Littlefinger of lying about his promise and he admits it, while telling her to forget Winterfell and make the Eyrie home instead. Some time ater, Littlefinger promises to take Sansa to Winterfell after all if she marries Harry Hardying. A likely story... not. Littlefinger already had promised and lied about it.

In the show, Littlefinger does sell Sansa to the Boltons, so she technically returns home but since she runs away shortly after, there’s that feeling it didn’t count. It’s Jon that truly takes Sansa home, by defeating the Boltons and retaking Winterfell at her behalf because if he decided, he’d rather defect south. So, once again th foreshadowing was played straight.

It has been confirmed that in the books, Littlefinger won’t be selling Sansa to the Boltons, so she cannot return to Winterfell that way, not even technically...  So Sansa will realise Littlefinger will never take her home even if she marries Harry, so she’ll flee the Vale to the Wall, then Jon takes her home.

Sansa plays a game about the ships she’s watching, where they’re headed to and why. The captain is disillusioned with undeserving people and wants to go wait out winter in Dorne where it’s warm.

Sansa is playing a game of pretend, because she has a penchant to sugarcoat than face the reality of things. When Shae asks her why she’s doing it, Sansa says she does it because “the truth is either boring or terrible”. For once, a good original scene. Still, Sansa’s fantasy is quite specific, this captain must represent someone else.

Knowing D&D, thisis to be delivered later like something out of a shopping list later on. So... someone is going to want to escape winter to someplace warm, because they're disillusioned with undeserving people. As a matter of fact, the scene before Sansa crashes the no!funeral at Castle Black, Jon (born in Dorne) embodies it...

Jon Snow. Three out of three.

To summarise, these transition scenes predict Danerys storyline regarding some issues by paralleling Stannis and Margaery scenes, as well as by contrasting Sansa’s scene. This is reciprocal as Danerys’ scenes also predict Stannis and Margaery as well as Sansa’s by paralleling and contrasting with their scenes.

As for Sansa proper, to recap and in broad strokes, Sansa is watching the ships and wishes to go home on one but can't because she is a prisoner with no power, which is contrasted with Danerys sailing on a ship and going home because she's free due to her dragons. In addition, this also foreshadows that Sansa gains a “dragon” later on, who provides freedom and protection as well as takes her home and gives her power, the person being revealed in Sansa’s scene details.

It was all there.

Well not all... I got to say that Littlefinger selling Sansa to the Boltons wasn't the only bulshit D&D pulled on the northern campaign. This is because according to this reading that Jon is Sansa’s dragon, he is supposed to empower Sansa yet he accepts being King in the North instead of her. That's not empowering!

It can work though, for example Jon wanting to crown Sansa as Queen in the North, but then having to backtrack because Tyrion presses his marriage to still be valid, so accepts to be King in the North to protect her. Well, this is the realm of speculation, not the point of this post, which was “where’s the rest”...

WHERE’S THE REST?

Let's backpedal a little. Amongst the things Littlefinger says...

Littlefinger: You are the property of the crown. Stealing you would be treason.

In ASOIAF / GoT, a man stealing a woman is wildling code for marriage. This is bad, I don’t like this... because Petyr Baelish stealing Sansa Stark from the Lannister crown is not cool.... but no, as seen from the previous points the metaphor here is meant to be Jon Snow so...

Jonathan Snowflake, who is accused of stealing a redhead around this time in the narrative, later thinks about stealing a woman when confronted with the opportunity to take Winterfell from Lady Lannister, is accused of being half-wilding and having a bizarre endgame where he's suggested to be a wildling but not really since they mention he’s still in the Watch (what was that)...

Jon Snow stealing Sansa Stark.

Knowingly. Willingly.

Jon Snow stealing Sansa Stark from the crown..., which incidently is the Lannister crown, when Sansa is married to Tyrion Lannister. ... Uhm... Tyrion Lannister, who incidently features in the scene preceding this exact one, where Tywin Lannister denies him Casterly Rock and promises him a bride... which is Sansa. Lawl at foreshadowing choochoo train being all matchy matchy with each other.

Jon Snow stealing Sansa Stark from Tyrion Lannister.

I’d like to see it. Where is it?

As a side-note, Sansa's scene details of the ship captain and Littlefinger’s speech is interesting because they might hint at a scrapped storyline for how this entire would have developed, a storyline closer to the books.

Sansa: It's carrying silk and it's supposed to bring back wine in exchange, but it's not coming back.

Sansa imagines the captain leaves with the excuse he's going for a trade deal to exchange silk for wine (food) and in the books, food is actually a big deal with Jon being concerned about food often, at some point saying their best hope to get some arse is the Eyrie. For example, Jon pretending he's going to the Vale with Sansa to get food but then defecting for her sake fits.

Littlefinger: I saw your mother not long ago. She's very eager to see you. And your sister. Sansa: Arya's alive?

Littlefinger mentions Cat and Arya, which is interesting because in the books, Cat prowls as the undead Lady Stoneheart, having taken Brienne who’s looking for Sansa, and Jeyne Poole is impersonating as Arya Stark (she’s the one that marries Ramsay). So these threads may be more connected to Sansa fleeing the Vale than previously thought. Perhaps Stoneheart told Brienne where Sansa is, perhaps Sansa finds out about fake!Arya and that’s why she decides to flee.

Well.. that’s also the realm of speculation...

By the way... armed with this post, answer the following GoT’s endgame questions:

Danerys burning King’s Landing because she believes it’s justice against her enemies and necessary to win the iron chair was out of character?

Jon didn’t notice that Danerys was an arsonist lizard even worse than Stannis and Melisandre?

[INSERT JON BANNING MELISANDRE FROM THE NORTH HERE]

Jon didn’t notice that Danerys was a fake altruist bitch like Margaery?

I’d like to see it. Where is it?

WHAT HAPPENED?

[ravireyes]

BASIC INFORMATION.

Full name:  ravi reyes Nickname:  vi, vivi !!! Birthdate:  february 14th, 1992 Age:  28 Zodiac:  aquarius sun, cancer moon, scorpio rising Gender:  nonbinary Pronouns:  he/him/his Romantic orientation:  biromantic Sexual orientation:  bisexual Nationality:  english Ethnicity:  east indian, english Ranking:  virtue Affiliation:  famine

BACKGROUND.

Birthplace:  London, UK Hometown:  London, UK Social Class:  born middle class, currently too rich to even be a class, probably Educational achievements:  a fancy degree in business in a fancy school Father:  dhaval barot Mother:  elizabeth barot Sibling(s):  none Pets:  his pride and joy uriel, the meter-long argentine tegu that he got as a gift Previous relationships:  carman, briefly in college. one particularly serious relationship with [redacted]. countless meaningless flings and one-night-stands before marcus Arrests:  resisting arrest (while drunk) once but it was totally a misunderstanding. three times for sleeping rough, as a minor living on the streets after getting kicked out. has successfully managed to annoy/charm everyone in the station until charges were dropped every time Prison time:  none

OCCUPATION & INCOME.

Current occupation:  virtue at famine / lifestyle influencer / event planner Dream occupation:  living the dream, honestly Past job(s):  anything that paid, from 16 to 23. most notorious have been: attendant at every single chain of fast-food restaurant (he collected them), server at a five-star restaurant in which he made mad tips by flirting with rich old people, a failed attempt at a strip club that lasted one week, 100 bucks made by stick-and-poking at a party once, and selling common household items as if they were precious relics to antique shops Spending habits:  notorious. he likes being pampered, by himself or others. and he loves fashion too much to simply not buy the latest versace collection. also known to buy a lot of great presents In debt?:  no. paid off his uni debt when he married, babey

SKILLS & ABILITIES.

Physical strength: below average / average / above average Speed: below average / average / above average Intelligence: below average / average / above average Accuracy: below average / average / above average Agility: below average / average / above average Stamina: below average / average / above average Teamwork:  it depends. if he has to crawl his way to the top, he's probably an absolute angel about it, will suck up to anyone he has to suck up to. gets the job done. nowadays that he's sitting on top, he's a nuisance, but he still does his part Talents:  adaptable, sociable, overactive imagination, can tie a cherry stem with his tongue Shortcomings:  spoiled nowadays, jealous, easy to anger, can't parallel park to save his life Languages spoken:  english, has hindi as a second language but doesn't speak it anymore, enough spanish to call himself fluent even though he might mess up everything's pronouns Drive?:  yes (debatable) Jump-start a car?:  no Change a flat tyre?:  no Ride a bicycle?:  yes Swim?:  yes Play an instrument?:  dabbled in guitar as a kid, so he knows the basics Play chess?:  yes, terribly Braid hair?:  yes Tie a tie?:  yes, but does he ask marcus to do it every time? also yes. Pick a lock?:  no Cook?:  yes, but he refuses to. still makes a mean grilled cheese, though.

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE AND CHARACTERISTICS.

Faceclaim:  avan jogia Eye colour:  dark brown Hair colour:  black Hair type:  wavy Glasses/contacts?:  no Dominant hand:  right Height:  5'9ft / 1,80m Build:  lean by nature and somewhat toned from doing yoga religiously and training with leon, but not muscular Exercise habits:  yoga every morning and training with leon, not much otherwise Tattoos:  too many to name them all, has his arms covered in various designs, most of his legs, some of his torso; harry styles-esque, not any full sleeves, just a bunch of random small drawings. his favorites are the ones he convinced marcus to stick-and-poke into him: a sun on his arm, a moon on his wrist, and a little peach on his butt! also has a tiny black heart on the side of his finger where his wedding ring sits. plus, any femfam member who wants to have matching tattoos or have stick-and-poked something into him, he would love that, leave your hcs in the notes below Piercings:  both ears pierced. used to have both nipples pierced, got bored of the look eventually and took them out a couple of years ago. got an eyebrow piercing once when he was 18 and that lasted a year Marks/scars:  a brand new scar over his eyebrow now, thank you liam. a handful of other random scars spread over his body, from his reckless youth, and the years as an Angel Clothing style:  chaotic. a lot of expensive brands, more is more, tacky chic. willing to pull more muted looks if he has to. his closet probably has everything from lingerie to full-tailored suits, has a fair amount of skirts and dresses, also partial to a good jumpsuit. so much colour. he'll pull a super masculine look if he can pair it with flashy earrings Jewellery:  more! is! more! always wearing multiple necklaces, bracelets, occasional earrings, usually a bunch of rings on his right hand. his left hand always has only his set of wedding band plus engagement ring. Allergies:  none Diet:  omnivore

PSYCHOLOGY.

MBTI type:  esfp - the entertainer Enneagram type:  seven - the enthusiast Moral Alignment:  chaotic neutral Temperament:  sanguine Element:  fire Emotional stability:  pretty stable nowadays. he's volatile to an extent, always prone to feeling angry or sad at the smallest of things said to him, and lord knows he has a long list of triggers to make that happen, but at the end of the day, he's stable. Introvert or Extrovert?:  extrovert Obsession:  being the hottest person at the grocery store Phobias:  none Drug use:  occasionally weed for recreational use, as a treat Alcohol use:  usually drinks very lightly at big social events, and stays dead sober if he's working, because he is prone to getting Too Drunk otherwise. he's a fun drunk, but the hangover is not worth it. occasionally will let himself get wasted to celebrate something (last time was at his wedding), if he knows marcus is willing to help him get to bed at the end of the night Prone to violence?:  no Prone to crying?:  no Believe in love at first sight?:  yeah and it's probably all he talks about

MANNERISMS.

Accent:  cockney?? turned posh maybe??  Hobbies:  caring for uriel, shopping, crafting hilarious tiktoks Habits:  yoga, being an early riser, walking around the flat naked (not anymore, now that wren is staying over, rip) Nervous ticks:  wrinkling his nose up, putting his hand through his hair, checking his phone Drives/motivations:  making marcus and the rest of the family proud, always Fears:  losing marcus, being alone again Sense of humour?:  sarcasm and chaotic meaningless gen z type of humour, spends too much time on the internet Do they curse often?:  just a fair amount. doesn't bring out the fucks mid-sentence unless he's mad, but occasionally drops the infamous c word like it's nothing

FAVOURITES.

Animal:  argentine tegu since he got one Beverage:  coffee Book:  the malady of death by marguerite duras Colour:  deep red Food:  grilled cheese Flower:  peonies Mode of transportation:  private jet Scent:  marcus and his st. rose's vigilante  Sport:  tennis (for watching. for participating, it's none) Weather:  short shorts weather Vacation destination:  paris ranks pretty damn high after his first paris fashion week in 2018, though anywhere in mexico is also a favourite, for how excited marcus looks when they're there

ATTITUDES.

Greatest dream:  just vibing like this until he dies, honestly, he is living the dream Greatest fear:  finding out that he is, after all, unloveable Most at ease when:  alone with marcus Least as ease when:  talking to people who don't respect him, having to prove himself Biggest achievement:  feeling like he's really a part of the femenias-reyes bunch Biggest regret:  giving his parents the time of day when they reached out a couple of years ago, and thinking they had changed

[castielific]

The list

AO3 Link

Tags: Supernatural, Destiel, Alternate Ending, Canon Compliant (up to 15x10), Human!Castiel, First kiss Summary: 

Once there are no more monsters, the only thing left to fight for is happiness.

Here is my take on our boys’ happy ending. I hope you’ll enjoy it. 

**************************

"I hate you", Dean grumbles into his elbows. His arms are on the table, his head buried into it as he squeezes his hands over his ears. 

"I think he’s getting better," Sam lies, hiding his grimace just in time so that Dean doesn’t see it when he raises his head to glare at him. 

Dean opens his mouth, but is cut off by a particularly shrill note that makes him feel like someone is drilling right into his tympans. Even Sam can't help but squeeze his fists in pain, crumbling the edge of the book he's trying to read. 

"'This would be good for you, Castiel'," Dean says, imitating Sam. "What about us, Sam? This doesn't feel good for us!"

"It's not so bad," Sam offers miserably. 

Yes it is. It's even worse than bad. Dean flinches in pain at every horrible noise that resounds all around the bunker as Cas continues to play - or more like, tries to play - what Dean thinks is supposed to be 'Twinkle twinkle little star' on his newly acquired violin. 

Truth is, it is all Sam's fault. Dean can't ressent him that much though, because the look on Castiel's face when they went to the music store was worth the torture they've been enduring for the last two days. 

Since God has been defeated, they've all been having a serious case of cabin fever. Heaven and Hell have closed up their doors, angels and demons alike running home with their tails between their legs. Even the common monsters have gone into hiding. Apparently the Winchesters killing God has impressed them enough that they've all decided that they better keep quiet. Of course, they're still there, but smart enough not to do anything that might attract the wrath of the hunters. Apparently, they are exceptionally good at hiding when they want to because the only case the brothers have had in the last six months had been a rogue vampire that went on a rampage. He was still young and out of control. It took three hours to take him down, the whole deal was done in less than a day, even counting the drive. 

In short, hunting has become boring. All they've had to keep them busy have been some random salt and burn, nothing exciting. The rest of the time, they've stayed cooped up in the Bunker and it didn't take long for them to go crazy. Each in their own personal way. 

For his part, Sam has gone a little too far on his healthy lifestyle penchant, to the point that it became borderline unhealthy: Running up to three hours a day and eating nothing but vegetable smoothies. It lasted two months before he realized that all it was doing was giving him diarrhea and making his shins look like basketball. So now he's taken to digitizing and translating every book in their library….which sounds as exciting as getting all your teeth pulled out, if you were to ask Dean, but at least it passes the time. 

Dean's way of coping was on the polar opposite as his brother's: he decided it was as good a time as any to learn to cook better. Dean has always loved cooking and has been having a blast since they found the bunker. For the first time of his life, he has a home and a kitchen of his own. Until now, between the Amara, the Men of Letters, and all that crap with God, he never had time to really enjoy it, limiting himself to the few recipes he already knew: burgers, steak, and breakfast food. With the hunting gig slowing down though, he had all the time in the world to try his hand at more ambitious things like roast, chili, lasagna and way too many pies. 

His personal wake up call  came when he tried to put on clothes one morning and couldn't find any pants that fitted him anymore.They hadn't had a case for three weeks, and he had to admit that he became a little too familiar with sweatpants. When confronted with the terrible truth of his every single one of his jeans being suddenly too small, he had no other choice: he spent the whole day dismantling the dryer to find out why it was shrinking all his clothes. Sam had a blast mocking him and Castiel, with his usual discretion, was quite pointedly avoiding looking at Dean's stomach during that conversation. Dean spent a long time in front of the mirror after that. He regrettably had to admit that his stomach resembled more Father Christmas's belly than David Beckham's abs at this point. He started to follow Sam's health routine the very next day. Or, tried to, at least. It didn't last long before he couldn't take the smoothie torture anymore, and decided that limiting his pie intake to two per week and doing some exercise should be enough. 

Sam and him actually came to an agreement on food after that, and while Dean would never ever drink a kale smoothie again, it actually wasn't so bad to add a little more salad to his plate. 

All in all, it was a difficult time for everyone, but especially for Castiel. 

Castiel used to be an angel with a Godly purpose, a mission grander than anything people could even imagine. Then suddenly Chuck was gone, and the angels were gone too, and he just became a puny human with no real purpose, a soldier of God with no God to serve and no war to fight. Easy to say that he quickly joined Dean in his sweatpants' aficionados club. Except where Dean was happy to indulge in a laziness that he never really had a chance to try out before, Cas soon fell into depression. Even the best pies Dean made seemed tasteless to him after a time. He was lost in a human routine that he could find no pleasure in. It came to a point where he didn't even sleep in his own bed anymore, never leaving the couch except to satisfy the most basic needs. Sadly, on most days, showers didn't seem to be considered as one of those needs. 

Once they had their breakthrough about their own miserable situations, the Winchesters decided to tackle their new mission: helping Cas. 

It was Sam who proposed that they should all write a list of things they always wanted to do, but never had time for. 

They took a trip to the Grand Canyon on the very next day, dragging a reticent Castiel along. Their road trip lasted nearly a month, because they kept getting distracted by new destinations. Sam wanted to see the Harold Washington Library, Dean wanted to go to Baltimore to go to the Dangerously Delicious Pies shop he heard about while searching for new pies recipes, and so on. 

Castiel never asked to see anything, pretending gloomily that he used to be able to go anywhere in a flap of his wings, and therefore had seen everything he ever wanted too. Dean dragged him to an amusement park anyway, because he was pretty sure the angel had never been on a rollercoaster before. Dean regretted that pretty fast when Cas became strangely fond of them, saying that it reminded him of flying. They took so many rides that Dean threw up and Sam's nose bled for nearly one hour after. 

Still, it seemed like a wake up call for Cas. He spent the rest of the drive home lost in his thoughts or scribbling a list on the back of a gas station's receipt. He even asked them to stop in Utah on the way back to see the largest bee hives in the US. They ended up buying so many types of honey that they now have a cupboard full of it in the kitchen. 

They had been back to the bunker for two days when Cas declared he wanted to learn how to play an instrument. They went to a music store, where Castiel tried on every instrument from a harmonica to a full drum set. After the obligatory harps jokes, Dean tries to entice him to buy a guitar, and learn all the best Zep songs. Cas was too polite and knew better than to criticize Dean's taste in music, so he chose the guitar. Dean wasn't oblivious to the way his friend kept lingering in front of a black violin though, so he relented and bought that instead.

He's sorely regretting it now. 

It's still totally Sam's fault though, he was the one to come up with the idea of this stupid list in the first place. 

**********************

"I've decided what I want," Castiel declares as soon as the movie's credit starts rolling about a month later. 

Sam snorts, waking up from the doze he'd fallen into. He blinks at them, wiping his eyes tiredly. 

"I said no cat, Cas," Dean reminds. Apparently, one of Cas' item on his stupid list is to get a pet.

"I don't want a cat."

"I'm allergic to animal's hair," Dean reminds him, suspicious. Last night Cas declared he wanted a Camel. A freaking camel. 

"Of course, Dean, your health comes first," Cas concedes amicably. "Although, I do wonder if you're not using this as an excuse, and would not have been amenable to adopt a pet anyway, were it not the case."

Dean scratches under his ear. "What? No. Of course, I'd want one. I love animals. Just, no snakes or anything that eats living food. I know you, and you would just end up saving all the mice or something."

"You know, they do make hairless cats and dogs," Sam pipes up, smirking when Dean sends him a side glare. 

"Those are majestic creatures, indeed, Sam, but I much prefer the softness of fur. Don't you Dean?"

"What." What kind of question is that?

"Wouldn't you like it if you could have a pet with a soft fur that didn't make you sneeze and suffer so much?"

"Huh. I guess?"

"Good," Cas concludes with a jut of his chin. "His name is Honey," Cas announces, raising the kilt that was on his lap to reveal a…

"What the hell is that thing?" Dean shouts, jumping to his feet. 

"Honey is a texel guinea pig," Cas says, cuddling the little beast to his chest. The pet starts emitting a little noise in pleasure as Castiel caresses his fur. It has long curly hair. Its head is black with a white spot on the top while the rest of its body is a mismatch of large black, white and orange spots. 

"It looks like a freaking sheep!" Dean exclaims, sending a betrayed look to his brother that is already kneeling next to Cas and petting at the small animal. 

"See, Sam, we do have a guinea pig now," Cas says proudly, making Sam chuckle at what is obviously a private joke between them. 

"We don't have anything! I'm allergic, Cas, remember? My health…," Dean finishes, faking a cough. Sam rolls his eyes while Cas squints at him. 

"I don't think you are, Dean. Honey has been on my lap all night and you haven't shown any signs of allergy. I've looked at you closely to make sure."

"Do you think he likes kale?" Sam asks, taking the little beast on his own lap as he sits on the ground. 

"I think he might, Sam. The internet says guinea pigs need to eat a lot of vegetables. Do you want us to go and try to feed him some?"

"Yes!" Sam declares, squeezing delicately the pet against his chest as he gets up. 

"But-," Dean tries to protest. 

"I bought him a little hammock that he really likes," Cas tells Sam as he gets up too. 

"But I haven't-"

"That's cute! I want to see it!" Sam says eagerly.

"My allergies…," Dean finishes lamely as he watches the two other men leave the room without a look in his direction. He scowls, staring at the beer he's still holding. He sulks for all of thirty seconds before he grumbles. "Dammit, I want to see the tiny hammock too. Guys, wait for me!"

**********************

"Oh, that's...that's a nice...tree."

"It's supposed to be Sam," Cas says with a pout, looking at his very first painting.

"Yeah no, I mean, behind him? The big woody thing?"

"That's you," Castiel pouts, looking dejected. 

Dean grimaces, inclining his head to try, and identify himself in the glob of paint on the canvas. 

"So you're not Van Gogh," Dean finally declares. "Or Mozart. The important thing is that you wanted to give it a try and you did. If you liked doing it, then that's what matters, no matter the end result," Dean tries to reassure, squeezing his friend's shoulder reassuringly. He learned his lesson when his words about Cas' lack of music skill were not so delicate, and the ex-angel ended up giving him the cold shoulder for a whole week. 

When he looks back at him, Cas has a small smile on his lips and a look so full of...of something, that Dean can feel his cheeks warming a little. Seconds pass and Cas keeps staring until Dean clears his throat, forcing himself to look back at the ugly painting.

"What's next on your list?" 

A hand pulling on his arm makes him turn back toward Castiel. Dean barely has time to react before his friend's lips brush with his. It's so fast and soft that he's left blinking in confusion, wondering if that really happened. 

"This was."

Cas is still smiling, even though Dean recognizes the worried line creased between his brows. The hunter opens his mouth, but doesn't know what to say. To say that he wasn't expecting it would be an understatement. To say that he never thought about it, a lie. To say that he regrets it…

"I liked doing it," Cas declares, nodding his head in satisfaction. "Now I want to ride a horse."

"A- a horse?"

"Unless we can still get a camel?" Cas teases, acting hopeful. He sends Dean a wink - a goddamn wink - before he grabs his painting under one arm and leaves the room. 

"Ride a...Wait. Cas! We're not getting a horse either! Cas!!" 

*************************

When Dean finds him, Castiel is sitting on the bench Dean made from the trunk of one of the trees they had to cut down to make this space into their garden. The sun hasn't set yet, but the end of september's evenings are already colder. The last flowers of the season are blooming, and the vegetables they planted in the spring are starting to wilt, only a few tomatoes popping red among the green and yellowing stems. 

Cas is bending forward, forearms resting on his legs. His eyes are closed and for a minute, Dean is worried that something happened, that he's sad or sick. He's reassured when he hears the low murmur of Cas' words, see the slight smile at the corner of his lips, the one Cas always gets when he's trying to be funny. 

His friend hasn't heard him approaching yet, so Dean waits, trying not to eavesdrop on a conversation he's not supposed to be a part of. 

Dean takes the time to check on the apple trees he planted instead. They're too young yet, too small to give any fruit, but by next year, maybe...He can't wait to bake a pie with his own apples. He rolls his eyes at the thought, that's so domestic. Yet here he is, planning on planting strawberries and raspberries, checking on the squash that is starting to grow and wondering if it'll be ready by Thanksgiving. 

Vegetables are Sam's thing. Flowers and the small hive they've built are Cas'. Dean is in charge of the fruits. 

They planted their garden over the underground garage, hidden by such a large ply of trees that there is no risk of anyone stumbling upon it by accident. They had to cut down trees, dig out every root, and plow the whole area to prepare the soil. They've spent nearly all spring and a good part of summer working to create that little bit of garden on the Bunker's roof. They've bought so many gardening tools that they're already making plans to build a shed here in the spring. 

It's nice. The bunker is feeling more and more like a home, like a place Dean could feel himself growing old in, maybe. 

They've talked about buying a house, especially Sam, but somehow they can't see themselves leaving anywhere else than in the bunker. It's their legacy, the place they were always meant to be, and they've come to love it despite all the horrors that happened there in the past. 

Maybe it will change someday. Maybe Sam will want to marry someone, to buy a more traditional place with a white picket fence where he can raise kids without fearing that they'll choose a cursed object or weapon laying around as their next toy. Dean has noticed more and more of Eileen's clothes in the laundry, more of her things left behind every time she comes to visit. He hopes it's only a matter of time before he's not surprised to see her at breakfast anymore. 

By the time he's checked on the fruit part of the garden, Cas has stopped praying and is observing him. The sun is setting, painting an orange glow behind him, and for a second it nearly looks like Cas has a hallo. 

"You told Jack about the horse riding lesson?" Dean asks as he straddles the bench to sit next to his friend. He rubs his hands against the cold, blowing into them to try and warm them up a little. 

"Maybe," Cas says with a mocking smile that makes Dean balks. 

"Oh, come on, you promise you wouldn't tell anyone about me falling on my ass!"

Cas chuckles at the memory of Dean's horse throwing him into a giant mud puddle. Dean had cursed for a whole ten minutes as he struggled to stand up but kept falling right back on his ass. It made Cas laugh so much that he'd started crying. That's a thing Cas does now, he laughs. He does it more and more, and Dean is amazed by it, every single time. 

"Technically, I didn't tell anyone anything," Cas argues with a smirk. He's not wrong. They have no idea if Jack can even hear their prayers now that he's taken charge of and close up Heaven. That doesn't stop them from regularly praying to him, especially Cas. 

"You tell Sam and I'll bury your damn guinea pig next to the tomatoes," Dean threatens. 

"No you won't," Cas says with a fond smile. 

"No, I won't," Dean admits, pouting half-heartedly. He's actually come to like the damn beast. Which no one would actually know if Honey didn't start screeching every time Dean comes near it, calling for the treat that he knows Dean will give him. It was supposed to be their little secret but Honey blew their cover more than once. Dean is still pretending he hates the little ball of fluff, on principle, even though no one is fooled anymore. 

"You were right about the horse, I hadn't realized the amount of dejection it actually produces," Cas concedes. "Also, my bottom is sore from the ride," he adds, squirming a little in his seat. 

Dean chokes a little on his saliva at the image that brings to mind. Honestly, even without the innuendo, watching Cas ride a horse, hips rising and bending over the saddle, has done quite a number on Dean's libido. If he hadn't been questioning his sexuality before, he would definitely be now. Good thing he already was. Cas kissing him has been the only thing on his mind for days now. They haven't talked about it, and Cas is acting like it didn't even happen, but Dean has barely slept since then, spending his nights thinking about Cas' lips on his, and how he might possibly maybe want to do that again. 

"Did you kiss Sam too?" he blurts out. It's not the most subtle or delicate way to bring up the subject, but apparently that's what his brain has chosen to say. Damn you, brain! 

"Why would I kiss Sam?" Cas asks, looking genuinely astounded by the question. 

"Wasn't that on your list?" Dean asks, scratching the back of his neck. 

Cas squints at him like he's the most idiotic thing he's ever seen and, well, Dean probably is. 

Dean squirms under the stare, rubbing his hands again, as much against the cold as in nervousness. The ex angel gives a long suffering sigh before he grabs Dean's wrists. He pulls on his hands until they're under his own sweater. Dean is so startled that he just looks at the bulge his hands are making over Cas' stomach with wide eyes, not daring to move his fingers. They're nestled between Cas' tee-shirt and his abdominal muscles. It's so warm under there that his skin is tingling from the temperature difference. 

"You're an idiot, Dean Winchester," Cas declares. Dean looks up, and Cas is looking at him so fondly that it makes him blush a little. 

"Yeah," he sighs. "I know."

"I must be one too, because I would very much like you to be my idiot for as long as you would have me," Cas confesses, a little shy as he draws patterns on the shape of Dean's fingers over the tissue of his sweater. 

"I'm not sure, Cas," Dean says, making the other man tense up. "Are you sure you want to be stuck with me forever?"

It takes a minute for Cas to get his meaning, brow furrows intensely before they relax in realization. 

"That was my plan all along," Cas says, his smile so wide it's showing his gums. 

And yeah, knowing Cas, it probably was. Cas would have stayed by Dean's side forever whether he was an angel or a human or even a God. Hell, Cas was ready to stay by his side when Dean was turning into a monster bearing the mark of Cain, and when he was a demon. He wanted to stay by Dean's side even when Dean was cruel and screaming at him to go. It was the irony of it all, wasn't it? It always felt like Cas was leaving him, running away for angel business or whatever, but Dean never ever doubted that he would come back. He always knew Cas would come back somehow. After all, even death could never keep Cas away for long. 

Dean slides his hands a little higher, making Cas shiver as they travel over his torso under his shirt. Dean's fingers tightens around the cloth, and pulls Cas closer, close enough that their noses are nearly touching. 

"And now it's mine too," Dean sworns,resting his forehead against the other man's. He cradles Cas' jaw, passing a thumb under one of his eyes. The stubborn angel refuses to close them, even though they're so close that he's going cross eyed. Still, he keeps looking right into Dean's green orbits and hell, that must mean Dean can't keep his eyes off Cas either

When they kiss, it's sappy and tender and sweet and everything Dean always thought he could never have. The relief he feels makes Dean wonders if it isn't everything he's been waiting for all along, without even realizing it. 

Cas is right by his side, as always, and Dean is damn well going to keep him as close as he can for as long as he possibly can. And hey, he knows the guy ruling Heaven now, so that might just be forever. 

The End. 

[moony-moons-world]

A list of amazing musicians that isn't (sadly) more commonly known...

I: Steps Ahead - formed in 1979, ended semi in 1986, jazz, rock, r&b, fusion. Instrumental, swingy in a very relaxing way and positive!

II: Silly Wizard - A 1960/70's folk band - when I talk about folk - this is what I mean. They both sing in (Scottish) Gaelic and English. Their songs go from silly, happy and hyper to ballads and mourning. I genuinly wish I had been alive in the 70's to see them live.

III: L'arpeggiata - an essemble that plays a lot of different styles of classical music, with various colorations with other wonderful artists. No one in their right mind would call them dull. Family favourite.

IV: Forndom - A Norwegian musician. Viking music, one of my favorites. Everytime I get goosebumps. Best song: hemkomst (homecoming)

V: The Dolmen - an English group that make folk (see above) rock. Think Pink Floyd and Celts and you get a basic idea of what they do. Amazing vocals, songs that go about everything (pirates, war, love, prejudices etc) and they dare to go wild.

VI: Duke Elkington - think instrumental, jazz, blues, rock & roll, soul, and everything in between. There should be a Duke Ellington day, week and month. He was so important that he changed music for good. He even played for Queen Elizabeth.

VII: Eivør - a Faroesic/Icelandic singer/musician, Viking music mixed with techno/dubstep/electronic and a voice that is the best I have heard in many, many years.

VIII: Philip Glass - minimal music. He's the one to listen to. Mind, don't be in an impatient mood, because then it will be irritating, but otherwise it's the best. Koyaanisqatsi- a movie from 1982 - is one to watch to find out why this music is so amazing (it's successors Powaqqatsi (1988) and Naqoyqatsi (2002) are worth a look too).

IX: Magna Carta - a band from 1969. If you like poetry and music this is one to listen to. Lord of the ages is their most well known song. Just kisten and decide for yourself if you like them or not, because it's quite different and difficult to describe their style. It made me fall in love with poetry.

X: The Sidh- they are from Italy, they have mixed bagpipes, lowwhistles, and the like, with edm rhythms and electronic/dance/dubstep/techno. Excellent for going all out at parties and 'raving', you don't need drugs to go high with them.

XI: Adam Lambert - glam rock/rock the most top 40 artist in my favourite musicians list. Currently also working with Queen. His voice is flabbergasting and his lyrics are really relatable. It's always a kick to hear/see. Remember Fever? That's him. Remember Glee's starchild? Marry the night? That's him.

XII: Bronski Beat - a 80's band. New wave/punk/electronic. Small-town boy is their most well known song.

XIII: Clamavi De Profundis - this is an (vocal) essemble that sings (mostly) the songs from books as The Lord of the Rings (J. R. R. Tolkien) in full length and in an amazing way. But also different songs (their Christmas songs are cool). Song of the Lonely Mountain, they do it.

XIV: Supertramp - sure they are famous, but can we please talk about the fact they make ridiculous amazing songs and music? They are easy to listen to and when you actually really listen you realize how genius the lyrics are. Plus the singer (Rick Davies) has this voice I could listen to all the time.

XV: The Doors - yes also extremely well known. Heck Jim Morrison is one of the club of 27. But their music, if music was anything like sex this would be it. 'Riders on the storm', and 'the end' are well known, but 'People are strange,' never forget that one.

XVI: Pyrolysis - a Dutch folk band. Similar to Silly Wizard, but with a more current sound, and wider range of songs. Want to dance the Scottish? This is the band to do so.

XVII: Kila - an Irish folk/rock band. That's all I am going to say about them. Because that should be enough. :-)

XVIII: The Lumineers - Every now and then people post 'Academia' music lists, but hardly ever this group is among them. They should. It's relaxing, joyful, well done and poetic and by far one of my favorites to sing along with. Ophellia, Angela and Ho Hey are the most famous of their repertoire.

XIX: Postmodern Jukebox - Modern songs (and old ones) remade in postmodern music. Their videos are very good and an delight to watch. Just do it.

XX: Ramses Shaffy - a Dutch singer, sometimes in French, with really beautiful songs, lovely lyrics and he had this kind of voice that will calm you down immediately and fill you with hope. This. is. what. Dutch. music. should. be. like, like. all. the. bloody. Time.

That's all for today folks, see you next time.

(though feel free to ask new music ideas (or suggest them) if you want to :-D)

[concubuck]

Dinner Date (and Dessert) - chat log 8/28

Alastor a.k.a. Buck (hi there) has a date night with Alastor a.k.a. King (@akillingspreeinwhite).

It turns out that when you hook up a concubus with the ruler of hell, what you get is the sexual equivalent of a perpetual motion machine. They simply do not run out of stamina. Truly horrifying to behold.

King

👑  Good evening, my dear! Would you happen to have tomorrow night free for that promised dinner?

Buck

Completely free! Shall I pencil you in? I hope if I give you an address you can find your way to the right universe?

King

👑  Yes, of course! It's a simple thing for me. Shall I arrive around say 7 o'clock?

Buck

7 o'clock is perfect! I'll arrange a room. I hope you don't mind a hotel room; I'm afraid I don't have a dining space that's fit for a guest.

King

👑  That works just fine for me, dear! Send me the room number when you have it.

Buck

I'll see you soon, your majesty~

King

👑  Indeed you shall!

Buck

He got a room in a hotel he’d frequented several times before, one of those stainless-steel-and-glass-and-exposed-brick places that thought “industrial” and “high-end” belonged in the same sentence as each other. Usually he visited it for the jacuzzi and the floor-to-ceiling windows—but for this trip, it had a well-stocked kitchenette, too.

And he could hardly focus on cooking. He kept catching himself with one hand on the spatula and the other trying to sneak under his apron. Just a few hours, and he’d be meeting *himself* face-to-face, for the first time—be stared at by his own eyes, heard by his own ears, close enough to touch, to claw, to bite—

But dinner first. Technically, neither of them had promised more than dinner yet. He was at least going to get that right.

And by 7 o’clock, distractions aside, he’d managed to finish dinner, clean up, set up the radio in the kitchen, and find a spot to perch by the door while he anxiously awaited his date.

King

The radio crackled to life, playing a quick instrumental tune, and a portal sprang open-- and through stepped King. His lips stretched in a grin, he dusted off the lapels of his white and red tuxedo.

"Good evening! Buck, I presume?" He asked, eyes glinting as he moved closer. His antlers, large as they were, knocked a bit against the ceiling and he laughed.

"Oh, pardon me! Let's adjust the antennae, shall we?" His antlers shrank down to a more manageable size-- still large, but far less tall.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, my dear!" He inclined his head.

Buck

He started at the sound—never in his life had somebody else wrested control of a radio away from him. He only had long enough to think *well, of course,* before the portal opened to admit his alternate.

And there he *was,* in all his glory. It was his own face, his own smile, even his own skin as it used to look before he gave up his humanity—and it was all aimed at him. He was very glad he'd added some tight underwear to the harness underneath his clothing, lest it be a little *too* obvious just how thrilling it was to meet himself.

Other than that, though, next to the king's tuxedo, he felt painfully underdressed. Just a black button-up shirt, sleeves rolled up, and slim pants—the compromise his sense of shame had reached with his eagerness. He wished his shame had won a little more ground.

"Ah—*yes.* The one and only—so to speak." He laughed somewhat breathlessly, heart hammering in his chest. Collect yourself, idiot. "I should downsize too. There's probably a rule against having a hat bigger than the king's, isn't there?" And anyway, the large antlered heart looming over his head felt a little *too* obvious. It was only with difficulty that he managed to reign the majority of it in.

"The pleasure's all mine, sire—do you prefer 'sire'? Tell me how formal I should be, I'm new to cross-universe etiquette."

King

"Just King will do, my dear-- or if you'd rather a pet name, that's fine by me, as well. No need to stand on formality when it's just us two, hm?" He winked, and held his hand forward-- an offer for Buck to place his own and perhaps receive a kiss to his knuckles.

"The pleasure is mine, of course, to be your guest this night."

Buck

Buck's grin stretched wider. "We'll have to see what pet name seems fitting, won't we?" He winked back.

Hands! Damn, he should have worn gloves—he was *very* glad he hadn't worn gloves—he immediately placed his hand in King's. "It's not every day I entertain royalty. I hope I can offer you a meal fit for a king." Is he talking about dinner or is that a euphemism? (It's both.)

King

King placed a soft, warm kiss on Buck's knuckles, his thumb rubbing over them after. He didn't release the other's hand, instead drawing him up.

"Well then, no point in dallying about, let's eat, shall we? I'm positively _starved_."

Buck

Just ignore the fact that at the kiss a good 20% of the antler mass he'd just whisked away was now back—aaand there went another 30%.

"You and me both! *Utterly ravenous*." That would be a perfect opportunity to go for King's mouth; but instead he restrained himself to pressing his thigh to King's as he tipped his head toward a dining table past the kitchenette. (He'd opted for stupidly decadent—filet mignon and lobster.) "It took all my willpower not to start without you."

King

"Oh, look at that! Simply scrumptious!" King cooed, eyes on the meal set on the table-- though they flickered to Buck with a flash of a wry smirk.

King released Buck's hand to sweep behind the other's chair, pulling it out for him like a proper gentleman.

"I'm sure! It must've took an immense amount of will to get through that ordeal!" He chuckled.

Buck

Odd how the room felt a little bit dimmer when King was looking away from Buck.

"You have no idea." As he took his seat, he broke eye contact with King for the first time since he'd entered the room—but turned to catch his gaze again as soon as he could. "I had to make a special surface trip just for the lobster. It will be well worth it."

King

King pushed the seat back into place, before taking his own with another sweeping, elegant movement. He smiled at Buck, gently and genially taking his knife and fork in hand.

"It certainly will, I haven't had lobster in days," He said, smirking as he cut a nice bite of steak. He let out a low moan when the meat hit his tongue.

"Mm, simply divine."

Buck

*Days,* he says. It was a good thing Buck had gone for decadent, imagine if he'd dared to stop short.

"Oh, that *is* good. Not to pat my own back, but!" He laughed. "*Next* time, you ought to tell me what you'd like to taste. I'll see what I can do."

King

"My tastes can be quite varied and wild, I'll have you know." He laughed, taking a bite of the lobster. "I'm sure whatever you dish up would be well to my liking."

He winked again.

Buck

At this point it was like he'd never tried to retract his antlers at all. "Good, then we're well-matched! We'll have to *experiment* sometime."

(Did he have control over the hotel radio again? Time to turn some background music on. Not having music was weird.)

King

"That sounds simply wonderful, I whole-heartedly agree! We certainly should-- but since this is our first....dinner, then perhaps sticking to the basics for now." He took another bite.

Buck

"Oh, absolutely. One must master the basics before trying the more exotic recipes, mustn't one? But I'm sure you'll find tonight's *entire* menu equally enjoyable."

King

"I'm sure that I shall." He chuckled again, eating more of the steak and lobster. "Might I inquire plainly what you expect for the night? Just so we may be clear."

Buck

A blink. Okay, straightforward it was, then. Made things easier—even if it did make his face hotter. "Plainly, I'd appreciate at least one orgasm by the end of the night, and I'm *extremely* flexible on the specifics of how we get there. I don't like blindfolds, gags are hit or miss, and I prefer the lights on."

King

King smiled widely as he took another bite. "I guarantee more than one tonight. And it would be a shame for either of us to not see one another during. I never much like blindfolds either. Do you have a safe word? I know we're not going to do anything too wild tonight, but just for reference. Mine is Defeat."

Buck

"*Well!* I'll do my best to return the favor in kind." Don't mind him if he just. Stretches his legs. And maybe brushes an ankle against King's. "'Defeat' is fine, I tend to go with whatever my partner's using. Either that or just 'stop.' I doubt we'll get up to anything tonight that would make that ambiguous." He also doubted he'd want to say it.

King

King returned the touch to his ankle with one back, smirking as he took another bite. And lo and behold, his plate was empty. He _was_ rather large, a normal portion was small to him.

"Looks like I'm finished," He said, wiping his mouth with his napkin and grinning. "Are you?"

Buck

"Nearly!" He devoured the last few bites viciously—he hadn't been kidding about being ravenous. And to hell with etiquette, he was more eager to move on to dessert than to keep eating at a mannerly pace.

King

Once Buck was finished scarfing down the last bits of food, King rose and moved to pull his chair back out, and once more offered his hand to the other. Always the gentleman, it seemed.

"Shall be adjourn to the bed, then?" He purred.

Buck

Buck took King's hand—and his elbow. That's his now. Now that dinner wasn't distracting them, his eyes were once again firmly glued to King's face. "*Let's.*" He tipped his head toward the bedroom door.

King

King grinned wider, leading the way into the bedroom. With a light kick, he shut the door behind them, his free hand covering Buck's hand.

"I do want you to know that at first, I really did think you were only offering me dinner and nothing more, when you initially offered."

Buck

"I was afraid you might think that!" He laughed and pressed closer to King's side, his long tail loosely wrapping around King's leg. "I thought I'd have to be *extra* suggestive at the dinner table. But you worked it out before you got here."

(The radio's teleported itself into the bedroom. Don't worry about it.)

King

"That I did, and I was more than happy to oblige." King sat on the bed, tugging Buck into his lap. His hand cupped Buck's cheek, his gloved thumb playing with his bottom lip.

"Why don't you help me undress?" He cooed.

Buck

He gladly let himself be tugged down, straddling King's lap. Guess who's rock hard? (Spoilers: it's the same guy who's been rock hard this whole time.) "What an *honor.*" He slid his hands eagerly over King, briefly feeling his chest before getting to work undoing buttons. He let King play with his lip a moment, nibbling at the tip of his thumb, then tugged at King's glove with his teeth.

King

"Try the middle finger, it works better for that," he said, placing said digit's tip on the other's lips. His other hand reached to flick a button open on Buck's shirt, and he peeked beneath with a soft groan.

"You're wearing the harness....good," He purred.

Buck

"I'll try whatever you offer me." He kissed King's fingertip before tugging again on the glove, this time with more success.

His grin widened, impish around the glove still dangling from between his teeth. "I *thought* you might like that. It seemed like your colors." It felt like the exposed skin of his chest was blazing beneath King's gaze. If he hadn't already been neon red, he would be now.

King

"Seeing the back of it got me ever so curious about what the front looked like." He grinned, taking the glove with his now bare hand to toss aside. He swapped his hands, placing the tip of his other middle finger into those jaws-- and the warmth of his skin pressed against Buck's as his hand made contact with his chest.

"They are-- white and gold on red. Quite a lovely combination, no?"

Buck

"Mm-*hmm.*" He was already so revved up that just the touch to his chest was enough to make his eyelids flutter. He sucked on King's finger for a moment before dispatching the glove the same way as the first.

"So, what do you think?" He undid another button, exposing a bit more skin and harness. "Is the front as pretty as the back?"

King

"So far, yes. But I'll reserve full judgement for when I get to see it all." He chuckled, and his head tilted as he finally leaned in to kiss Buck. He nipped at the other's lower lip, the hand not on Buck's chest wrapping around the back of his head.

Buck

Oh, those *fangs.* His fangs. Was this what other people felt, kissing Buck? (Probably not—he suspected King had a hell of a lot more than three years' experience.) He kissed back, teeth teasing at King's lips, offering his tongue to be nipped at as well.

King

King delighted in the sensation of flesh between his teeth, of teasing it and playing with it, pricking it gently with those sharp tips. He accepted the tongue, so very gently scraping his teeth across it, as then his tongue joined the dance as well.

Buck

Buck hummed into the kiss—but there was only so long he could handle kissing before the lack of eye contact got to him. He rolled his hips against King's, pressing their groins together, and reached under King's coat to untuck his shirt—a reminder of what else they had on their plate.

King

King gave a small gasp at the roll of hips, and his hands moved to do away with the buttons on his vest. The shirt buttons followed, though there was still his undershirt to contend with.

King shrugged out of the jacket, and began to undo his bowtie. "I fear I wore far too many layers for these activities, didn't I?" He laughed breathlessly.

Buck

Buck smirked wryly. "And here I'd worried I'd underdressed." He helped King to undress where he could, and when he couldn't help, continued unbuttoning his own clothing. "But if you're *desperate,* we only really need you pants down, don't we?"

King

"I'd rather have it all off, this is bespoke after all." He winked and laughed.

Saying that, he tossed his jacket, shirt, and vest onto the floor. Seemed he didn't truly care about his suit all that much.

Buck

"Oh, then by all means! I'd hate for them to get dirty. I don't mind for my *own* clothes, but..." He tugged King's undershirt up over his chest, then paused, eyeing King's antlers. Nope, undershirt wasn't going over those unless King magicked it.

King

"Ah, yes, let me take care of that--" With a slight flourish, he simply yanked on the undershirt-- and it came away cleanly and in one piece.

"Ta-da~" He said, with a smarmy look on his face. He pushed Buck's shirt off completely, hooking fingers into the harness. "So pretty for me."

Buck

A laugh and a disembodied round of applause for King's magic trick. "Handy!"

He arched his back for King, leaning back with his hands on King's knees, showing off how the harness fit him and tugging back against King's fingers, drinking in the attention. "And all for your pleasure."

King

"Mm, what a lovely thing. All for me, how lucky I am." He grinned, one finger staying hooked in, while the other let go to gently drag his claws against skin.

With quick flicks of his feet, he removed his shoes, the socks just disappearing to and reappearing on the piled of clothes. "I think we're finally almost undressed," He said, laughing.

Buck

"*Nearly.*" He sat up and hooked his thumbs into King's waistband pointedly. "Should I... keep the harness on?" As if he didn't know.

King

"Yes, it's quite lovely. And it makes it far easier to manhandle you." He laughed. "Plus, I want to see how your equipment looks all caught up in it."

Buck

“Oh, *would* you!” He got up on his knees, took King’s hands, and guided them up to his own waist band. (… With maybe a quick detour over his ass.) “It’s quite a sight, if I say so myself! Perhaps you’d like to do the honors?”

King

"I would indeed like that very much!" King smirked, unbuttoning the pants before sliding them down Buck's hips. He licked his lips in anticipation.

Buck

Beneath his pants, he had on a tight black thong, just barely enough to keep himself restrained and certainly not leaving anything to the imagination. He wasn’t patient enough to wait for King to tug it off; he slid it down himself. He was almost painfully erect, tip already smeared with precum, framed prettily by the harness, a gold ring like the one around his tail in his photo wrapped around the shaft. Buck’s breath stilled as he awaited King’s reaction.

King

There was a short intake of breath at the sight, and a noise rumbled through him, somewhere between a purr and the rumble of thunder far off.

"Oh, that is _beautiful_," He said, quickly flipping them around to be able to lay Buck on the bed. Once situated, he nearly ripped the other's pants free and tossed them aside.

Buck

He could feel himself twitch at the sound of that sharp inhale, and he was sure he could feel that rumble like a vibration. He let King lay him down and finish undressing him, then eagerly spread his legs—here he was for King’s consumption, all of him on display, and King’s gaze felt like electricity across every inch of exposed flesh.

“I hope you’re going to let me see, too?” He stretched out a hand again toward King’s waist and his pants, not quite touching—waiting for permission.

King

King smiled, licking his lips. He moved closer, letting Buck's hands collide with his hips.

"Have at it, then. I'm all yours, darling." He winked.

Buck

“You honor me.” He pulled himself up into a sitting position by his grip on King’s waistband, then eagerly slid it down.

King

Pants and underwear both went down, and thus sprang forth his erection. Proportionally average on a demon of King's size meant it was quite large in size, standing at full attention. Not quite as eager looking as Buck's own, but certainly excited. King smirked.

Buck

To Buck, “excited” was the most important part. His smile didn’t change but a glint of hunger entered his eyes as he leaned closer, face inches from the tip. “A scepter fit for a king—hah! But you’ve probably heard that line before.” He placed his hands lightly on King’s thighs, close enough his fingers could brush the base of King’s cock if he wanted.

King

King laughed at the joke. "I have! But it still gets me every time." He chuckled a little more, and then smiled wider.

"I can see your eager for a taste. Go ahead, indulge yourself, darling."

Buck

He didn’t even reply; he just wrapped his hands around the base of King’s cock and leaned in, ran the flat of his tongue along the bottom side, and then slid the tip into his mouth. All with his eyes rolled up to keep watching King’s face.

King

King's breath caught, and he stared down at Buck, keeping his eyes on him. His hands wrapped around the other's antlers, grinning as he held tight.

Buck

Oh, to look up at his own face and know what a sight those eyes were seeing! If Buck dared try to stroke himself now, he was sure he’d immediately go off like a geyser.

He stilled when King’s hands gripped his antlers. “Do you want to take the reins?” (Don’t worry about where that voice is coming from when Buck’s mouth is clearly occupied. It’s probably normal.)

King

"No, do please continue, I was just getting a grip so as not to fall over in sheer pleasure." He winked, licking his lips again.

"I want to see what you can do."

Buck

“Well! If you insist…” Only the Radio Demon could smile so effortlessly with a jumbo dick stretching his jaw open.

And then he got to work, one hand gripping King’s ass to hold him close, head jerking back and forth to let King slide effortlessly into his throat, so ferociously and greedily that it wouldn’t seem far-fetched if he bit it off to keep it for himself.

King

King didn't try to keep himself quiet-- he wouldn't have been able to anyways, considering he was used to being as loud as he wanted-- and let his moans and groans fill the air. Mutterings of things like 'Good boy', and 'So pretty sucking my dick' intermixed with the noises. His hips moved with the motions of Buck, eagerly seeking more of that wet heat.

Buck

Every noise and note of praise was a hot jolt that zinged straight to his groin. He finally let himself wrap a hand around his own cock—it didn’t matter if he came this soon, he was pretty sure he didn’t *have* a refractory period anymore—and let his own orgasmic moaning contribute to the stimulation he was lavishing on King’s dick.

King

King let out a long moan of his own, tossing his head back as he lost himself to the sensation.

"Fuck, yes! Yes!" He groaned, hips snapping forward and back eagerly into the waiting mouth and throat. Another long moan signaled his own orgasm, and he spilled himself down Buck's throat.

Buck

Although that load was getting swallowed no matter what Buck did, he still tried to swallow it even harder, throat working around King’s dick. He jerked himself off faster, desperately trying to hasten a second orgasm—but it hovered just out of reach. That didn’t do anything to stop him from moaning just as zealously through King’s orgasm.

King

King panted softly, slowly pulling back to remove himself from Buck's mouth. He wasn't soft, no, far from it. His cock still stood proud, ready for more, and he grinned.

"What a lovely first course, I think I'm ready for the second," he said, lowering himself down further. He moved Buck's hand from his erection and swiped his tongue over the head, before taking the full thing in his mouth in one go. He started to bob his head quickly, his tongue sliding along the underside of his cock.

Buck

“Oh? What’s next on the menu—*ahh.*” It was half a noise of realization and half a moan. He let himself flop back down onto the mattress, tugging a pillow under his head to prop himself up just enough to watch King work. “Oh—*OH* that’s good, *oh YES.*” His own groans were easily as loud as King’s had been, although his dirty talk—what he could breathlessly get out between unfiltered moan—was less conventional. “You know, *most* people—“ he had to stop with a whine as he bucked up into King’s mouth, “—they’d prefer sixty-nining. But this—lets you watch and be watched. I—*hahh*—prefer that. Don’t you?”

King

"I certainly do!" King's voice was clear and crisp-- just as Buck's had been before.

"I'd much rather put on a show and what sort of show would it be without someone to watch+- or listen?" His head bobbed faster, and he chuckled, sending the vibrations through Buck's cock.

Buck

"*Oh,* so *true.*" His eyes narrowed to glowing yellow slits, Cheshire catlike. "I s-simply *need* an audience..." He was quickly losing his ability to carry on a conversation, or do much of anything but moan and gasp. He slung his leg over King's shoulder and gave himself up to pure noise and static. He was so close he could *taste* it. (Maybe he was tasting King.)

King

King could certainly taste it, and he hummed as his head bobbed, trying to give that little bit of extra stimulation to send him over the edge. His claws dug into his thighs, holding them down as he continued his work.

Buck

This time, when he spilled over, it was with a wail so loud it would be echoing through radio sets for miles around and a string of wild babble. There was something intoxicating about screaming his own first name as he came.

King

King swallowed down his load, sitting up as he licked his lips. He leaned down to kiss Buck, laughing against his lips.

"Third course?" He asked.

Buck

He shoved his tongue in King's mouth, getting a thorough taste of his own seed before he flopped back down. "*Please!*"

King

"Excellent. Do you have lube? We'll need to stretch you for me, I think," he said, smirking.

Buck

"We only need to if you're *into* that part of the process." Very few physical limits on a succubus. "But sure—I like this stuff, it's tingly." A snap and a bottle appeared in his hand.

King

"Oh? Good to know. I haven't fucked a succubus before," he said, laughing. He took the bottle and lubed himself up. King spread Buck's legs and lined up.

"Ready?"

Buck

"Really!" Now, that was a fascinating detail he'd have to ask about later. Much later.

He lifted his hips to give King a better angle. "Very!"

King

King placed his hand on Buck's hip, and pushed inside. He groaned, almost laughing at the feeling of the other around him. "You feel remarkable-- so welcoming, it's almost like you put out the mat for me!" He laughed more.

Buck

He immediately moaned, rocking against King, angling his hips to ensure King hit him *just* right. "Well—" he laughed shakily, "—you *are* my guest, and I do pride myself on being hospitable!"

King

King grunted as he pulled back and then thrust, laughing even as he did. "I think I'm the most welcome guest in Hell, then!" He continued to thrust faster.

Buck

"That's what I like to h—*ahh!*—hear!"

He met the thrusts as best he could, bucking his hips against King's, fists curled in the sheets hard enough to leave tears with his claws. Wasn't that a sight, King looking down at him while pounding him into the mattress. He hoped he was a sight worth looking at, but that was hard to control when each thrust had him seeing stars.

King

King found the perfect rhythm, the balance of speed and power that he knew would please, and stuck to it. His hand held to Buck's hip and he grinned wider, laughing in pleasure as he pounded the other.

"What a thrill, literally fucking myself!"

Buck

Buck laughed as well, a sharp, almost maniacal sound. "God, *isn't* it! Like watching a mirror but better!" A mirror couldn't watch you back.

He let out a particularly loud moan, "Oh, *f##k...* Like that, *just* like that—"

King

King panted as his hips snapped forward and back. His hand reached, and clasped around Buck's throat-- rough, but just holding-- and he turned his head aside to get to the smooth flesh of his shoulder. He buried his teeth deep, groaning into the bite and the taste of blood.

Buck

His hands flew to King's hand—not pulling it off but holding it in place—and he gasped sharply. The bite alone was almost enough to tip him over. He was desperate to return it, but—no, not with a hand around his throat. That said *stay down, stay put.*

"I'm gonna..." He laced one hand through King's hair, gasping, "Let me see your face when I come."

King

King's teeth released and he pulled back, mouth dripping blood. He stared down at Buck, panting as he continued to thrust, letting the other's blood drip onto his face and chest. His smile was a gruesome thing, but no doubt beautiful in it's own right.

Buck

Not much more gruesome than Buck's manic smile and wild eyes as his own blood dripped down on him. He stared at King's face as long as he could until another orgasm forced his eyes to roll back, his fingers digging into King's hand and clenching in his hair.

King

King grunted and panted, fucking Buck through his orgasm, and then leaning down to kiss him. He spread the blood over the other's lips, fucking him harder than before, grunting with each thrust.

"Fuck..." He muttered.

Buck

He was too dazzled and oversensitive to think straight. He kissed back automatically, biting at the taste of blood, groaning into the kiss with each thrust.

King

King panted harder, edging himself closer with every thrust, until he let out a cry of his own and came. His hand spasmed around Buck's neck, closing hard, but briefly. He stayed inside as he poured himself out, and the laid on top of the other demon, a laugh in his lips.

Buck

His voice went silent as King squeezed, nothing but the hiss of dead air; but only for a couple of seconds. And then he was loudly panting, staring up at the ceiling as he fought to catch his breath.

"*Well.*" Pant, pant. "And who says missionary is *boring*?"

King

"Only those who don't do it right." King's answer came quickly, even as he panted too. He pushed himself up and grinned wider.

"So, I suppose I did well? Up to your snuff and all that? Am I to get a standing ovation?" He winked.

Buck

"That would require standing, so no. I'm going to bask in the moment, and you're going to get a supine ovation." He applauded. A hundred invisible listeners applauded along. Some of them whistled.

King

King laughed, finally pulling out to flop onto the bed next to Buck. He let out a sigh of contentment and tucked his arm beneath his head.

"Thank you, thank you very much," He said. "I think _you_ deserve a supine ovation as well." He flicked his free hand, and even more raucous applause started, filling the room.

Buck

He kind of wanted to climb on and put it back in.

Oh, the thought of such a large audience watching... He flushed deeply enough that it managed to peek through his bright red skin, beaming broadly. "You're *too* kind!"

King

"I think we both performed splendidly! Very deserving of applause." The sound of clapping faded away, and King reached to wrap his arm around Buck and pull him close against his side.

Buck

Oh. *Cuddles.* Cuddles always took him by surprise. He could manage, though. He'd had practice. He magicked on his underwear (he was still half hard, and that sort of thing tended to ruin cuddles) and settled in against King's side, playing his part, arm draped across his waist.

King

King, meanwhile, summoned up a fresh rolled cigarette, and a holder for it. The end lit with a spark, and the took in a long draw. He blew out the smoke, and hummed.

"Do you smoke? I hope you don't mine me doing so, I tend to like one after a good fuck. Cliche it may be, but it does feel nice."

Buck

He gestured permissively. "Go ahead. I don't smoke myself, always thought it might damage my voice." He shifted himself up onto one elbow. "I wouldn't mind a drink, though. You?"

King

"Oh, certainly, I'd love one." He smiled, leaning to kiss Buck's cheek. "Whatever your having will work for me."

Buck

Affection, now. That would take some getting used to.

He summoned up a couple of glasses and offered one to King. "Vodka cranberry?" Cranberry juice was good to drink after sex. He'd heard that somewhere.

King

"Mm, delicious." He took another puff of his cigarette, pushing himself further into a sitting position as he took the glass. He sipped and smiled.

"I have a question: did you ever have sex before you became a succubus? Or did you simply have the hankering after?"

Buck

"Never had it before then. Never had the slightest interest. And then all of the sudden I had the interest thrust upon me." He let out a long sigh—but the person to complain to about one's sex drive probably isn't the person one just had sex with, so he let it go at that. "What about you? Did you always have a taste for it or did you pick it up somewhere?"

King

"I had my curiosities in life, but never more than a passing interest. I had libido, but no one with whom I wanted to pursue it. I had other things to think of. And then I died and found a partner whom I did things because he wanted. Then more happened and that was no longer an option, but my appetites had grown-- so now I indulge them with whom I will. No one that I've found sparks the interest itself, it's more...." He paused, taking a drag of his cigarette as he thought.

"It's more like I have the urge to simply do it, and so I find someone who is also willing-- and all the better if they're beautiful, no? Beautiful and amiable and _flexible_." He laughed. "I take my pleasures where I will, with whom I will. I have some favorites, but mostly, I'm not picky."

Buck

A nod in agreement. Good, they were on the same page on that. "I can't say I've ever looked at anyone and wanted *them.* What I've wanted is *their* want for me. I'm sure some people would call me selfish, but, well, I have to give them what they want to get what I want, isn't that reciprocity?" He smiled wanly. "Whoever stoked your appetite did you a grave disservice. Now *that's* selfish."

King

"I wanted him, and it was such a strange feeling. In the end, though, it wasn't to be-- my ambition outweighed the feelings we shared." He took another puff, and then another drink.

"Now I have a favorite concubine of sorts-- he even uses it in his marketing, and believe me, it does him wonders. 'The King's Favorite!' splashed everywhere can really rake in the money."

Buck

"Huh." He considered that as he took a thoughtful sip, then shook his head. "No, never wanted anyone like that." And thank goodness.

"Hah! I bet it *would.* Who is it, anyone I ought to know? Probably not, if his preferred clientele is royalty, but."

King

"You might still! He seems to be famous in most universes I've seen. It's Angel Dust." He chuckled and shrugged.

Buck

"Oh, the—what's he—a movie star? The fuzzy pink one? I've seen him on posters." He tried to recall if he'd seen any of Angel Dust's pornos as he took another sip. "I suppose he'd be an expert, being a professional and all."

King

"Porn star, yes! Though, in my universe he does porn audio broadcasts and stage performances, as well as regular sex work." He chuckled. "He's very good."

Buck

"I believe you. I never watched much porn, though." A shrug. "It doesn't do anything for me. Just frustrates me."

Stage performances, though—he liked the sound of that. He'd have to look into whether that happened around here. Well—strip clubs, he supposed, but he was imagining a larger audience...

King

"Oh, I don't much buy into the video porn. Some of the audio can be nice to listen to-- but that may just be because I like his voice." He chuckled. "He's a wonder to see on the stage, though, I recommend that. Quite the showman!"

Buck

"Hmm. Does he sing?" Sexual stage shows didn't do much for him either. He already knew what the coy stripper was hiding under their panties. 95% of the time there were only, like, two options.

King

"Sometimes! He dances, and does these acrobatics, it's very lovely. Maybe I could take you to see one of his performances sometimes-- mind, I'm talking about my own universe's variation, I'm not sure if the others do the same."

Buck

"Oh... sure, if he's got a particularly remarkable show anytime soon." He wasn't totally sold yet, but friends should meet their friends' concubines, probably.

King

"I'll have to see what all he's doing soon, I'll let you know." King smiled, finishing off his drink and his cigarette. "You might like him, he's very good at what he does."

Buck

"Well, if I can't trust my own taste, whose *can* I trust?" He finished his own drink and poofed the glasses away.

King

"So, I'd like to know: have I satisfied your hunger, or do you want more?" He said, smirking as he tilted his head and banished the rest of his cigarette.

Buck

He gave King an incredulous—and delighted—look. "Are you *offering* more?"

King

King snorted, and waved his hand. "Of course! I'm not just a....one, two, three and done kind of man! I'm yours for as long as you can stand me, darling." He winked.

Buck

His eyes brightened with glee. "Remind me to put your number at the front of my little black book." He snapped his fingers and his underwear vanished again.

King

"Oh, be sure to," He purred, grabbing Buck's wrist to tug him close. "You on top this time. Ride me." He ordered.

Buck

"Yes sir, with *pleasure.*" He rolled over on top of King to straddle him.

They were going to be at this a while.

[longitudinalwaveme]

Longitudinalwaveme Reviews Old Comics, Part 7

Today, I will be reviewing Flash #307.

The Flash #307 (1982): “Prey for the Piper”, was written by Carey Bates, drawn by the legendary Carmine Infantino, and inked by Bob Smith. 

The story stars the Barry Allen Flash as the protagonist and, as the title suggests, the Pied Piper as the main antagonist. This story is also historically important for the Piper-it’s the first issue to give him an origin story. That’s right. Despite having debuted in Flash #106 in 1959, the Piper wasn’t given a backstory (or a real name!) for 22 years! 

The story opens with two guys in a helicopter flying a giant gong across the city. Evidently, it’s going to be a new display at the Centrex Museum and...why in the world did they decide to transport the thing by helicopter? Couldn’t they have used a truck? That seems safer. 

Regardless, the Pied Piper, who is in a nearby skyscraper, uses his pipe to hypnotize the pilots and get them to fly the gong into a building that’s under construction. Barry Allen, who is nearby buying what I believe is a newspaper but could also be a magazine or, knowing Barry, a comic book, notices the collision that’s about to happen and springs into action as the Flash. 

The pilots release the giant gong and it cashes into the building, making a horrible noise but surprisingly not causing any structural damage. Barry stops the gong’s descent and goes to ask the helicopter pilots what’s happening. We then cut to Piper (who, as usual for this time period, looks like a demented elf), who notes that he only needs one more really loud sound to put “Operation Sound-Off” (I’m sure that sounded awesome in his head) into action and defeat the Flash. 

Meanwhile, Barry is puzzling over why the helicopter pilots suddenly dropped the gong into the building, as when questioned about what happened, they had no idea. He knows that someone must have hypnotized them, but isn’t sure who or why. Meanwhile, in the police department’s record room, a young officer named Morty, who has been giving a reporter information about some as yet unrevealed story, walks the reporter (who works for Picture News just like Iris did) to her car...only for him to be whacked over the head and her to be kidnapped! We also see that the files she was interested in involve the Pied Piper, who is operating under the alleged name of Henry Darrow.

Barry comes outside just as Morty comes to, and the younger man tells him about what happened. Barry thinks that someone kidnapped her because of the story she was working on, and, because it was about the Pied Piper, Barry assumes that it was the Piper who had her kidnapped. In speaking of the demented elf, he’s in a state park fifty miles outside Central City, known as Summit Canyon, creating an avalanche in order to gather the final decibels needed to enact his evil plan. He notes that, once it’s complete, he’ll “finally be able to rid myself of the two curses which have plagued my life with the most pain and misery: my arch-enemy the Flash-and my despicable family!” 

Meanwhile, in his apartment, Barry is trying to work out the details of the kidnapping (which he still thinks the Piper is responsible for), noting that the man’s past has always been a mystery. We then cut to “the posh Ridgeway Hills community easy of the city”, where one of the kidnappers wonder why someone so rich hired them. The other one basically tells him “who cares, we’re getting paid a ton of money and now we can go to Vegas!” 

Inside a mansion, the people who paid the kidnappers note that the reporter is waking up, addressing each other as “Osgood” (snicker) and “Rachel”. The reporter tells them that they won’t get away with this, to which they basically respond that they totally will, because they’ve got tons of money to bribe her with. We then see that she’s tied up at one end of a ridiculously long table. The reporter, whose name is Marcy Dunphy, exclaims that she’s seen the people who had her kidnapped in the society pages. The man then introduces himself and his wife as “Hazel and Osgood Rathaway”, which, as this is only two panels after the use of the “Rachel” name, may hold the record for the least amount of time passing before Cary Bates forgot a character’s name. The reporter identifies them as the heads of the Rathaway Publishing Empire and is completely bewildered as to why such wealthy people would have her kidnapped. Their response? She’s uncovered a very embarrassing family secret, and they want it to stay hidden. Which does raise the question of why they decided to have her kidnap before trying to bribe her. Wouldn’t she be more amenable to the idea if you hadn’t had her kidnapped? 

While the Flash races to stop the Pied Piper from robbing a museum, the Rathaways for some reason decide to tell Macy the whole story. Their son, Hartley Rathaway, was born deaf, so they spent a ton of money to ‘cure’ his deafness, and because this is comic books, they actually found a doctor who could do it. Hartley subsequently became obsessed with music. Mr. and Mrs. Rathaway had big plans for their son, but, as time went by, it became clear that Hartley wasn’t interested in excelling in anything or in “upholding the prestige of the Rathaway name”. Instead of addressing the problem (or, alternatively, not attempting to force their son to become famous), Osgood decided to start bribing the heck out of people. He bought Hartley’s way into the best colleges and then bribed them into giving him good grades he hadn’t earned. After Hartley graduated, Osgood paid his way into an executive position at a major firm and...seriously, just how rich are these people? 

Meanwhile, the Flash manages to get through the sonic barrier that the Piper set up around the museum, only to be attacked by the Piper and his “Sonic  Boomatron” which is in the shape of bagpipes because of reasons. The stupidly-named device hits Flash with the equivalent of 50,000 decibels, before we cut back to the Rathaways’ explanation of how awesome bribery is. They apparently gave Hartley a silver-plated flute for his sixteenth birthday (in case it wasn’t clear that they’re made of money yet, I guess), and they tell Macy that their son had always liked tinkering with musical instruments. Somehow, they completely missed that their son was a super genius who created hypnotic and weaponized music until he actually put on the costume and became the Pied Piper. HOW DID THEY NOT NOTICE THAT? It clearly started when he was still a teenager, as he used it to hypnotize his tutor into getting out of a test. 

Now with the power to hypnotize people, his life was even easier than it had been before, and Hartley was bored out of his mind. So bored, apparently, that he decided that white-collar crime was overrated and decided to go into the “robbing banks in costume” type of crime. I also find it amusing at how shocked the Rathaways were that Hartley became a criminal. What, do nonstop bribery and literal kidnapping not count? Because they were bribing people left, right, and center LONG before he became the Piper. 

Meanwhile, Piper’s weapon somehow turns the Flash into sound, because this is comics and comics don’t have to make sense. He proceeds to walk off with his loot, surrounded by a sonic barrier that protects him from police gunfire. 

So yes, the Pied Piper is Hartley Rathaway, his family is rich, and he became the Piper because, at least according to his parents, he was an “emotionally disturbed” child who got bored. Apparently the elder Rathaways have kept the secret through EVEN MORE BRIBERY, giving money to everyone from the local police chief to the FBI to keep things quiet. The FBI were the ones who created the identity of Henry Darrow. By the way, Mrs. Rathaway is back to being Rachel again. Rachel reiterates the fact that kidnapping and then bribing the reporter to also keep things quiet was the only logical solution to the problem...at which point the Piper himself shows up! 

Meanwhile, Barry uses his mental control over all his molecules to reassemble himself while the Piper tells his parents that he’s paid his debt to them. Apparently, he turns over most of his loot to his parents in order to pay “back every Rathaway dollar my parents spent on trying to mold me into something I could never be.” The elder Rathaways had to keep all of it because doing anything else would reveal the secret. Osgood tells his son that he and his wife only wanted what was best for Hartley, to which Hartley replies “Not quite, Pop. You wanted what was best for the Rathaway name! What I wanted never really matter much to either one of you.” According to Hartley, then, it seems that he became the Piper not so much because he was bored...but rather because he feels that his parents were more concerned with their reputations than with loving him. 

Then the Flash pops up, punches him out, and rescues Macy, who says that they should give the Rathaways a few minutes alone with their son. I guess that we can assume that the Rathaways never got arrested because they’re made of money. Or something. (Could that be why we also rarely saw the Piper in prison during the Silver and Bronze Age?) 

Well, it may have taken Piper 22 years to get an origin (and a name), but in this case, I think it was worth it. With the possible exception of the Golden Glider, the Pied Piper has what is by far the most interesting Silver/Bronze Age origin of any of the Rogues, and I’m glad it’s stuck around. Props to Carey Bates for giving the Piper an incredibly memorable origin story. 

[fukurodaze]

haikyuu!! third gym squad taking the ib diploma programme

ok... my friend and i got rlly stressed the other day and made headcanons for these guys if they were to take classes in the ib... it’s like a levels but like... a bit more death!

for my ib diploma folks you can just hop on over and read what i’ve hc’d but for my non-ib folks, lemme give you a bit of an introduction to the ib diploma programme.

characters included: bokuto koutarou, kuroo tetsurou, akaashi keiji, tsukishima kei, haiba lev, hinata shouyou

THE IB DIPLOMA PROGRAMME is a rigorous two-year pre-college program in your last two years of high school. a full programme consists of one class from each of the six required groups (totalling to 6 classes), which are G1 - first language; G2 - second language; G3 - social sciences; G4 - natural sciences; G5 - mathematics; and G6 - arts (though, arts is optional, and can be switched out with another subject from G3 or G4).

within these six courses, students are required to take at least three high-level (HL) courses and three standard level courses (SL), but some students may take four HL courses and have two SL courses (kind of a rough one tho). 

just to note: there’s two types of math courses - applications and interpretations (Math AI) and analysis and approaches (Math AA). MAA courses are known to be harder than MAI courses because students do more theory work and have non-calculator sections in exams, unlike MAI courses where calculators are required for every exam. also, it is possible for a person to take IB courses instead of the full diploma programme, but i’m not very well acquainted with that variation of the IB programme so we’re just going to assume all the boys got 6 courses.

okay. i am so sorry i just lectured you on a whole school curriculum. anyways. back to haikyuu!!

BOKUTO KOUTAROU : Japanese Language and Literature HL, Mandarin Ab Initio SL, Geography HL, SEHS (Sports, Exercise, and Health Science) HL, Math AI SL, Economics SL

ok so it’s canon that this dude is not doing very well in math but his parents made him do higher level math at first poor boy >:(

he started the year off in higher level and thought he was gonna be fine

no. he was not fine.

so he ended up switching his math hl to sl and his japanese sl to hl

IT IS CANON (special chapter in volume 19 titled “i just forgot” where bokuto has a wholeass crisis about words) that bokuto’s really one to actually really like to think about how words work and function as systems in the same way ib language courses do!!

actually having him do japanese ll hl is just an excuse for me to keep him in math sl sorry

i mean koutarou may be my fav tax evader but he really did sit through two years worth of econ classes... smh

mans is Not listening and has to rely on yukie for notes but he just memorises case studies for exams and does not do anything else

i feel like he just takes mandarin because he thought it was the easiest one... he also thinks the words sound similar so it’s easy to memorise

he’s a pretty good communicator so he practices his mandarin quite a lot. as in, he’s made friends to talk to in mandarin. we love to see it!!!

also. um. i hc that he’s pretty decent at memorisation so geography!! this goes for memorising all the kanji and mandarin characters too

i think SEHS is pretty self-explanatory. mans already known he wanna be a pro athlete might as learn about being healthy as an athlete

KUROO TESTUROU : Japanese Language and Literature SL, English B SL, Business Management HL, Chemistry HL, Math AI HL, Biology HL

now... we all know this mf been taking chemistry hl. it is CANON

and as per his career path... DEFINITELY business management hl

i feel like he’s so analytical in the way he sees things that he likes to explore many areas of knowledge where there are different ways of thinking

takes english as a second language because... whew.. aint it sexy when mans wanna be multifaceted in business

also takes higher level biology because he’d rather not with the languages... but later on i believe he ends up in a higher level language class because he might as well

i feel like kuroo’s classes just give me a vibe i know too too well... 

mans takes math ai. he does not wanna fuck around with a pencil proving a theorem he just wants the answer bro

like in volleyball, he’s a quick thinker. so he’s pretty g with math and business stuff

i literally know someone with this class combo ... it’s not very chill but it screams “you never see me do any course work but i always get at least a B+ in every subject”

AKAASHI KEIJI :  Japanese Language and Literature HL, French Ab Initio SL, Psychology HL, Chemistry SL, Math AA SL, Visual Arts HL

now... this subject combo radiates such pretty energy

pretty subjects for a pretty boy

he was originally going to do biology sl but then found out there is chemistry in biology so he just decided with chemistry. plain and simple.

we all know akaashi is both emotionally and academically intelligent

he’s logical and analytical, and when faced with a tough time he works through it well albeit going through a little bit of struggle

this automatically puts him in math aa... i just see him actually liking proving theorems??? 

but maybe he just thinks his calculator is a nuisance sometimes and would rather solve everything by hand 

also art boy! this dude likes graphic design more but when it comes to traditional art he does Not Hold Back

i like to think that he’s into painting backgrounds and mixed media

if he didn’t take VA, i’m pretty sure he would take economics. because. it’s quite systematic and i think akaashi would take a liking to it

as for japanese ll hl... we all know this dude was supposed to be a part of the literary section in a magazine/manga company but was moved to editor

goes hand-in-hand with psychology, likes to know how words convey meaning and how they affect people

he also thinks french is kind of a cool language. i feel like this guy just wants to do it because it sounds cool and novel for him

all in all, pretty solid subject combo!

TSUKISHIMA KEI : Japanese Language and Literature HL, French Ab Initio SL, History HL, Biology SL, Math AA HL, Instrumental Music HL

4 hl’s... here we are folks

honestly does it for colleges to go like “holy shit this dude is kinda crazy”

but does suffer... coursework tings :)

first of all this dude takes french (even though it’s a beginner’s class) because he just loves to sound cool huh

the summer before his courses started he would have had the basics down after looking through free ib textbooks

plus, being the guy that’s super good at a new language in the class is a huge ass flex and a big ass ego boost. and anyways, with language, he thinks it’s just a lot of simple patterns working together.

this also applies to japanese ll hl... finds writing essays and making arguments ez (at least that’s what he tells himself - he’s kinda nervous when it comes to japanese but he holds on anyway)

practices extra hard on pronunciation. sounds hot tho

math aa hl??? there we go. another crazy one. thought he could ace the class at first.... no. no he couldn’t 

thinks about moving down to sl. probably does. (at least it’s not math ai)

history and biology go hand in hand for him. he has significant interests in prehistoric times, and likes to learn about the origins of life - that’s a given

but he does get tired of the politics talk in history like... goddamn all these people making so many mistakes? just stop making them smh

and instrumental music was just something he got onto because he really would like to just have a course where he could enjoy himself while also learning about the stuff he likes

nobody knows what music he listens to... but i think he’s willing to listen to anything as long as it’s music and it has the kinds of vibes he digs

HAIBA LEV: Japanese Language and Literature SL, Mandarin Ab Initio SL, Psychology HL, Chemistry SL, Math AI HL, Theatre HL

i don’t know how to explain it but lev has such strong psych and chem energy

yes haiba lev’s classes are the ones i picked via roulette wheel

jk not really

here’s the thing though, lev takes psychology because he thinks econ, business management, history, ess, all that jazz is just... absolutely boring. like. super. mf-ing. boring.

so he’s like ooh cognitive processes!

kinda hates that he has to study research methods and research methods ONLY at first but when he gets the hang of it he really finds it one of his fav subs

i actually have no explanation for mandarin ab initio sl... he just seemed like the kind of guy who would wanna do the class solely because he thinks mandarin sounds cool with their intonations and everything

plus he heard that the teacher gives mooncakes every lunar new year ad he. loves. them.

okay now hear me out.

lev is good at math.

maybe not lightning speed analysis or calculations like akaashi, but he finds solving problems fun! except for when they’re without a calculator bc he HATES doing calculations by hand

he can get a bit clumsy with his hand calculations too so it’s nice to just have a calculator on hand

literally only does math ai for the sake of using a calculator at all times (a/n: i take this class, and this was the reason i took it too. COMPLETELY VALID)

and then does theatre for the fun of it!!! confidence levels high for presentations and performances... good fit

kinda thought that ib theatre would be his easy A but oh how he was wrong... hates the research tasks at first but he gets used to it

HINATA SHOUYOU: Japanese Language and Literature SL, Portuguese Ab Initio SL, SEHS HL, Geography HL, Math AI SL, Theatre HL

his classes are bokuto energy but with theatre and portuguese

MANGA SPOILERS! we all know he started thinking abt going to brazil in his second year of high school, and the ib diploma programme starts in the last two years of high school so it fits PERFECTLY

lowkey most of the boys take japanese ll sl because they just. have to.

this is also hinata’s case <3

SEHS HL!!! he has a vision for the future and it definitely involves him understanding health and sports and everything like that, especially after nationals in his first year :(((( still sad abt that

but he’s motivated for this higher level class because he’s really just gonna go all out with the research

math ai sl because... he prolly don’t give a fuck about numbers!!! (it hasn’t been made clear already, but math ai sl is the lowest level math course)

he also took theatre hl because even though he does get scared at first, he’s a natural when it comes to learning new cultures

he’s just so curious about it all and it makes him quite engaged in the class as well!!!!

also kinda took theatre because the other subjects were just not it for him

about geography... he hates memorisation but he also hates everything else in the social studies group so

he just gets by by trying to find the little details of the things he’s studying interesting because really... geography class is just the base of all the places on his bucket list

hinata’s def one of those dudes who picks his subs purely off of liking because we all know he’s going. any subject that isn’t based off of liking is usually a mandatory subject anyways