#huge fridge full of leftovers tho
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wait i could have a mustard sweet potato tonight if i wanted
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❛ haikyuu sibling series hcs - general - part 1 ❜
「 includes : kuroo, matsukawa, oikawa, and suna 」
kuroo tetsurō
→ his parents got divorced at a young age and you can’t tell me otherwise
→ but before they did, himself and his older sister were close
→ she wasn’t as boisterous as him but she had a bit of a playful streak in her too
→ would absolutely go along with his scheming pranks on their parents and relatives
→ shes the one who got him into taking academics seriously
→ he always thought his big sister was cool and seeing her studious trait, he decided he wanted to be like her too
→ she’d help him with his own homework after school even if he insisted he didn’t need her help
→ everytime he’d score highly on a test, his sister would be the first person he’d show his little gold stars too
→ her praise meant the absolute world to him because from a young age he looked up to her and seeked some sort of approval from her that he was on the right track
→ when the fighting between his parents got bad, big sister kuroo would always leave her door open for her little brother to retreat into her room
→ she would hush the crying and distract his young fragile state of mind and make sure she did everything she could to stop him from focusing on the shouting
→ stories, board games, colouring, big sister kuroo did it all with him to ensure his mind was occupied with something other than the arguing downstairs
→ she’s his hero even if he doesn’t know it at such a young age yet
→ shes the one who taught him the trick with sticking two pillows against his ears just in case there were some nights she wasn’t at home
→ “see tetsu! it’s like having your head buried by sheep!”
→ when their parents did eventually split, he was beyond devastated
→ his best friend was being taken from him and there was nothing he could do about it
→ pleaded his parents to let them stay together but alas they decided it just wasn’t possible
→ kuroo took a handful of years to fully get over the separation from his sibling
→ hence his shy tendancies and hesitation to trust others at a young age
→ even to this day, the pillow habit stays prominent in his sleeping habits
→ while he was no longer in contact with his sister, kuroo would always think of her first whenever he received good grades or test results
→ would think of her during volleyball games
→ a source of motivation would be to ask himself if maybe his sister were here, would he being doing enough to make her proud?
→ after every accomplishment, his sister would linger at the back of his head
→ even now everyday when he goes to work
→ he can only do his best and hope it would be enough to be ‘cool’ like he always thought his sister was
matsukawa issei
→ big brother mattsun 😼
→ growing up, he was so inclusive of his little siblings
→ he’d never tell his brother or sister to leave him alone or go away
→ mattsun was super considerate and laid back with his siblings
→ as long as they weren’t causing too much trouble, mattsun didn’t really care what they were doing
→ he played with them i know he did
→ hero’s and princesses? pirates? dragons and mermaids?
→ mattsuns played every single one of these and more
→ whenever his siblings would argue, they’d always argue over who gets mattsun on their side
→ whoever won him over was deemed the winner of whatever petty thing it was they were arguing about
→ this little shit played the fuck out of them 😹
→ “hm whoever gets me the leftover pasta from the fridge will get me on their side 😈”
→ “if you go empty the bin then i’ll be on your side.”
→ “issei that’s not fair! that’s your job!”
→ “is it? guess i have to join your sisters side then...”
→ “I’LL DO IT!”
→ makki woukd come over often and his brother and sister loved him
→ he was like mattsun but prettier and “less mean”
→ in fact, all the aoba johsai third years were popular with the matsukawa siblings
→ his little sister was ✨infactuated✨ with oikawa
→ oikawa was “her prince charming” according to her
→ “oi loser, since my sister likes you so much why don’t you babysit for me next week?”
→ “as if! i have better things to do any- -she likes me?! 🥺 yes of course i’ll babysit!”
→ his brother is the opposite tho haha
→ “stupid oikawa don’t come near my sister!”
→ little brother matsukawa was protective asf over his sister
→ would throw hands at the setters legs and waist
→ and you already know mattsun, makki and iwa are just gonna stand there and ignore it
→ all in all, mattsuns one of the best siblings
→ he looks out for his siblings but he’s not overbearing in the slightest
→ these days he often lets them visit him at work when he’s not as home as often
→ “whoever brings me lunch doesn’t get locked in the coffin room”
→ obviously his siblings are bigger now so they just roll their eyes and ignore him ahah
→ he’s still someone they know they can come to if they need to though
→ he’s a good big brother who will listen to them without judegement cause hey, he’s done some questionable things growing up too
oikawa tooru
→ “you’re not allowed to have a boyfriend because i said so! nobody’s good enough for you! 😠”
→ “tooru, i’m older than you 🧍🏻”
→ over protective asf over his sister
→ insults boys that try it on with her to their face 😹
→ “you don’t seriously think she’ll go for you when you look like that do you? 😹 next caller!”
→ shes constantly apologising for his rude ass behaviour 😩
→ he does often seek advice from her though
→ especially when he started garnering attention from girls himself
→ “hair swept to the left or right?”
→ “neither. both are ugly.”
→ yes queen humble him 😈
→ okay but she would actually help him though
→ shes act like shes doing him a huge favour but she secretly likes the fact he comes to her for advice and feedback
→ shopping trips
→ she picks out his clothes because let’s face it
→ he can’t be trusted to be left to his own devices
→ she nearly threw up when she saw the plaid shorts fit 😖
→ she also picked out his glasses too because again, he can’t be trusted to be left to his own devices
→ he hypes his sister tf up !!
→ especially after shes having boy troubles of her own
→ “whatever! he was a loser anyway nii-chan! he would’ve ruined all the family photos if you ever got married to him because he was so ugly! you’re way out of his league!”
→ third year oikawa says it’s on sight if any boy messes with his sister regardless of the fact she’s older than him
→ iwaizumi was rather fond of oikawa’s sister too
→ therefore, he’d automatically part of her body guarding system alongside tooru
→ growing up, iwaizumi was awkward around her
→ shes a pretty older girl of course he’s gonna feel pressured !!
→ she found it endearing though
→ and shes often thank him for looking out for her little brother and keeping him in line when she couldn’t
→ rip iwaizumi 😔✋the boy has turned bright red and doesn’t know what to say
→ these days he’s a-okay talking to her!
→ they both lovingly bully oikawa now
→ but back to the point of her helping him with girls
→ oikawa is not a fuckboy and you know why?
→ because his sister told him those boys are the worst !!
→ he is a respectful boy and his sister will make sure of that !!
→ when he did get his first girlfriend, she had to tell him all the things to do to help
→ clichè films were the wrong source according to her she called them cringey and stopped oikawa from leaving the house at 2am to throw rocks at his girlfriends window to confess his love
→ “tooru please tell me you’re not doing what i think you’re about to do”
→ oikawa with his bag full of small stones and a rose in his mouth : 😳🌹
→ his first break up was rough but big sister oikawa was his hype woman this time
→ “she knew what she was getting into when she asked you out. remember, she wanted you tooru and if she can’t remember that herself then she’s not worth it.”
→ big sister oikawa had his back 100% and vice versa
→ and even now, she’s cheering him on the loudest
→ her little brothers a little brat but he’s the brat she’s overwhelmingly proud of
suna rintarō
→ literally didn’t give a shit about his little sister for the longest time 😹
→ he knew it annoyed her when he didn’t pay attention so he did it just to test her limits at first
→ his parents scolded him time and time again and eventually he did start to acknowledge her
→ like mattsun, he’s laid back and not overly intrusive
→ but he is a little bit curious as to what’s going on in his little sisters life
→ “whos that? you’re not dating him are you? yikes.”
→ “rin? what do you mean ‘yikes’?!”
→ “he’s ugly.”
→ lowkey protective of his sister
→ he knows she can handle herself and whatnot but he still feels the need to look after her just a little
→ so if you’re a boy and you get on the wrong side of her i’m sorry
→ suna is pulling up with the miya’s
→ “oh? so you’re the little shit who thought you could mess with my sister?”
→ atsumu in towering over the boy next to suna : 😈
→ osamu towering over on the other side to suna : 🤨
→ suna : 😐
→ the boy : 😳
→ it’s always been like that though
→ in his own way, sunas always been there for his little sister whether he makes it known or not
→ “one day, yer sisters gonna be a pretty gal i can tell”
→ “i won’t hesitate to call child protection if you ever make a comment like that again 😐🔪”
→ “i-i was just tryin to be kind! it’s hard sometimes suna it’s hard! 😖”
→ his little sister will come to his games and he won’t care 😹
→ deadpan expression the whole time
→ she doesn’t care though because she’s not exactly thrilled to be there either
→ both siblings have their own interests and don’t tend to mix them
→ but he’ll still support her in whatever she wants to do and vice versa
→ but they prefer to do it from a distance
→ because i know suna only went to one of her ballet recitals and he didn’t even try to stop the strings of loud yawns the whole way through
→ the suna siblings remain hot and unbothered over everything
→ you could have beef with both siblings and neither of them are gonna give a fuck
→ but when you pick on little sister suna, rin is gonna give a fuck but he’ll be clever about it
→ easy going relationship
→ neither siblings are overly affectionate or overbearing but they’re both there for each other if needs be
→ they don’t talk about deep things and details together though
→ but they will slag other people off together 😹
→ if the suna siblings don’t like you i’m sorry
→ because both of them will come for your neck with no mercy and you’ll never know 😼
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#kuroo tetsuro#kuroo hcs#oikawa tooru#oikawa hcs#matsukawa issei#matsukawa hcs#suna rintaro#suna hcs#haikyuu#haikyuu!!#hq#hq hcs#haikyuu hcs#haikyuu headcanons
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Malex 5, 7 and 20 for the questions, please and thank you :)
Thank you for playing, nonnie!!! Took me a moment longer to answer these, but here we go!
5) Who sleeps on the couch when they get into a fight?
Well, Michael certainly tries to sleep on the couch when they have what he considers their “first big fight”. In the middle of their argument he walks into their shared bedroom, grabs his pillow and a spare blanket and comes back out into the living room to throw both items into the corner of the couch Alex is currently not occupying.
Alex looks at Michael, raising one eyebrow in question.
“You don’t have to say anything, Alex, I know I’m exiled from the bedroom. I’ll take the couch.”
“I didn’t say anything about you being exiled from the bedroom, neither did I ever have the intention to say it.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, you can’t sleep on the couch.” The “because of your leg” is left unsaid.
Alex sighs and pats the empty space between Michael’s bedding and himself.
“Please come and sit down with me for a minute, Michael.”
Michael can’t refuse Alex anything when he calls him Michael in that soft, yet earnest voice. He walks across the room, carefully maneuvers around Alex and plops down next to him on the sofa. He doesn’t look at Alex, though, afraid of to find an expression of anger or disappointment on Alex’s face.
Alex slowly reaches out to Michael, careful, as if not to spook him. He puts a hand on Michael’s thigh, the warmth of his hand seeping through the thin cotton of Michael’s sweat pants.
“Michael, could you please look at me?”
Michael turns his head and to his surprise, Alex smiles at him.
“I just wanted to make one thing absolutely clear before we even consider continuing our earlier discussion--”
“Discussion? We were having a full blown argument, Alex, you were angry at me, it makes sense for you to kick me out of the bedroom.”
“Michael! I’m not angry with you. A bit agitated over the argument maybe, but I’m not angry. And I’m not kicking you out of the bedroom. In fact I want us to make a promise to each other right here and right now.”
Michael looks at Alex. “What promise, Alex?”
“I want us to promise, that no matter what, we will NEVER go to bed angry. We will NEVER sleep in two different rooms after an argument. I want us to promise that we will always find a way to make up before we go to sleep, and that we sleep in the same bed every night.”
Alex cups Michael’s face with his hand.
“We’ve lost more than a decade to miscommunication, wrong timing and arguments, I don’t want to lose even a single night to some argument we won’t even remember ten days from now.”
Michael looks at Alex and flings himself at him. He presses Alex into the corner of the couch, hugging him tight like he’s afraid Alex will slip out of the embrace. Instead, Alex wraps his arms around Michael and squeezes back. They stay like this for a long time, until Michael’s calmed down and they are breathing in unison. At some point, Alex pulls his head back a few inches to look Michael in the eyes.
“I want to hear you say it, Michael. It’s important."
Michael kisses the tip of Alex’s nose.
“I promise, that no matter what, that we’ll NEVER go to bed angry, that we'll NEVER spend the night apart after an argument, and that the makeup sex will ALWAYS be amazing.”
He winks at Alex. It makes Alex smile, and his eyes shine with so much love for Michael, Michael barely knows how to handle it.
“That’s an excellent promise. Would you mind if I’ll take you up on that last bit now? I’m really rather tired of all the talking and would prefer we end the evening on a high note.”
Michael kisses Alex on the mouth before he pulls back, gets up and reaches for Alex’s hand.
“I’ll lead the way!”
7) Who said “I love you” first? and who ends their arguments in a fight with “Because I love you”?
They both say it at the same time, actually.
Their friends leave late after a BBQ Alex had hosted in his backyard. Instead of leaving with the others, Michael stays to help Alex clean up. He’s carrying all the dirty dishes inside, carefully placing them in the dishwasher, putting leftovers in the fridge and cleaning larger items that don’t fit in the machine by hand. Alex comes inside, carrying a large IKEA bag filled with throw pillows and fleece blankets. He puts the pillows and blankets away and joins Michael in the kitchen.
“Domestic looks good on you, Michael.”
“Let me tell you, I’m the king of domestic, Alex. My kitchen clean up game is top notch, my vacuum skills are unparalleled, and you should see me do laundry. Mouth watering!”
Alex laughs, and it’s music to Michael’s ears.
“You know what, I’ll take the leg off, get a fire started, and you join me on the couch when you’re finished cleaning up. Deal?”
Michael half turns around and smiles fondly at Alex.
“Deal!”
Alex builds a fire in the fire place and has it burning in no time. Then he puts on one of his favorite records and lights some candles before he retreats to his bedroom to take off his leg. When he returns to the living room, he’s clad in his favorite pair of sweatpants. He grabs the knitted blanket Isobel gave him for Christmas from the back of the comfy chair and sits down on the couch, placing his crutches on the floor.
He snuggles up under the blanket and listens to Michael bustling in the kitchen. When Michael finally joins him in the living room, it’s dark outside, and Michael’s curls shine golden in the light of the fire. He’s carrying two mugs and carefully places them on the colorful coasters Rosa made for in therapy last year. Alex leans forward and smells.
“Lavender?”
“Good guess, put a spoonful of honey in your tea, I think that’s how you like it best, right?”
Michael’s walked around the couch table and sat down next to Alex, turning half around to face him. Alex nods.
“You remembered.”
“Of course I remembered. I remember everything about you, Alex. I know how you like your coffee, I know which side of the bed you prefer to sleep in, I know your favorite poem and many other little things. You are important to me, and knowing all these things about you, make me happy. And it gives me hope.”
Alex’s heart is beating a million miles a minute in his chest, but he tries to stay calm.
“Hope? What do you hope for, Michael?”
“I hope that one day, I can put all that knowledge to good use and love you the way you deserve to be loved. Every day, for the rest of our lives.”
There’s suddenly a huge lump in Alex’s throat and his own voice sounds more like a squeak to him when he replies.
“For the rest of our lives?”
Michael nods and smiles at him, open, vulnerable, but also full of love. There’s fireworks exploding in Alex’s chest when he bends forward, and Michael does the same (meeting him in the middle) and then they’re hugging and Michael pulls him closer and closer until he’s basically in Michael’s lap, wrapped in the most perfect hug he’s ever received.
He hears a hoarse whisper from Michael, close to his ear. “Alex.”
And he whispers back. “Michael.”
And then, as if the stars had aligned for this one perfect, cosmic moment in time, they both whisper “I love you.” at the same time. They both start crying (happy tears), whispering “I love you I love you I love you.” over and over again. Kissing, hugging, laughing.
They are a mess, but they are a perfect mess, and they both know that their time has finally come.
20) Who falls asleep in the others lap and who carries them to bed?
They usually manage to go to bed at a Reasonable Time™ before either of them falls asleep, but when it happens, it’s usually Michael who falls asleep, his head in Alex’s lap, and Alex’s strong fingers carefully carding through his curls. It’s the most soothing and relaxing experience, so really, Michael isn’t at all to blame for falling asleep. Alex won’t carry Michael to bed tho (even though he could, going to the gym with Kyle Valenti’s made Alex “bulk up” in all the right places - all in taste and good proportions, he only had to up his dress shirt size one number).
When Alex falls asleep in Michael’s lap one day, though? Michael doesn’t have the heart to wake him up when he’s ready to go to bed himself. Instead of carrying Alex, he uses his telekinesis to “float” Alex to their bedroom, carefully putting him down on the mattress. Thankfully, Alex doesn’t wake up. Michael climbs into bed, pulls up the covers up around them, snuggles up close to Alex from behind, and falls asleep with a smile on his face.
~ * ~
Ask me more OTP questions for Malex or Belmanes from this list!
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How I’ve been doing
Hiya! I’ve been getting some new followers and I feel kinda bad since I haven’t updated my progress here in a while. The truth is, there’s not much progress to be shared unfortunately :(
I’ve kept myself on track with my exercise fairly good. I have visited the gym once a week at WORST, and 5 times at best. It has become much easier to get up and go, even if the exercising itself still feels like a chore. I haven’t really been sticking with my exercise plan of 2 days cardio / 3 days strength tho, I just do whatever feels like the least boring option at each time. Still, I’m going at least and doing my thang in that field pretty well.
However, my diet is a different deal. I just cant seem to get a grip on proper nutrition anymore. I do eat a healthy breakfast and lunch, but after that is when things start to go wrong. My night almost always ends up on an eating spree, or a binge if you will. I don’t know weather to call it a binge or no, since it’s not a specific moment of eating a huge load of food exactly.
More or less it goes something like this: when I come home and start to prepare dinner, I get the urge to eat something simultaneously. No matter if I had a snack or two snacks after lunch, no matter how not hungry I am, I always want to eat straight away when I get home from school, and cannot wait 20 minutes for my dinner to cook. So I get a snack WHILE COOKING DINNER. Possibly two. Or three. This is usually something easy like bread or whatever random stuff I have in my fridge. Then I have my huge-ass dinner which should definitely keep me full for at least 4 hours, right? Wrong. Immediately when I’m finished with dinner, I get a massive craving for more. Even if I’m absolutely stuffed, I still want to have something else. And again, I just will demolish absolutely anything I can find in my kitchen.
After that, I might be satisfied for half an hour to 2 hours, and then I crave more. I always come up with a stupid excuse like the good ol’ ”tomorrow is a new day, I’m hungry now” or will just completely dismiss any thought process and just go ”I haven’t eaten that much today, it’s okay to have this”, even though I KNOW I’ve had enough food for one day already. And after that snack the same thing happens again every hour or so.
Long story short: After I come home, my whole night consists of eating, pretty much non-stop and I can’t seem to stop myself.
At first I thought I was addicted to sugar, since that’s what I usually went for when I wanted a snack. If I didn’t have anything good ready-made, I’d literally make a dough out of sugar, margarine and flour and eat that raw. But then I figured that sugar wasn’t actually my go-to if there was something else available: leftovers, 2min noodles, protein bars.... any easily-prepared food. So very often my ”bingeing” is actually on healthy food, like today after dinner I first went to rye bread, then dates, then leftover pasta, then more rye bread, more dates, wholegrain sugarfree cereal with smoothie, more leftover pasta. And I had chocolate in my kitchen the whole time and didn’t go for that.
So I guess it’s good that I’m not eating copious amounts of all-unhealthy food, but still it doesn’t help me to figure out what’s causing this. I feel like I’m literally addicted to eating and that is a very depressing thought since I have no idea how one would cope with that. I obviously don’t have certain trigger foods to avoid, and I can’t exactly avoid eating altogether either.
This nightly eating marathon is something I’ve been struggling pretty much always. I remember coming home from elementary school and just spending my whole night at the kitchen, getting something to eat every 30 minutes. I don’t know why and how to stop for good! I’ve had good runs of not doing this for months, and at those times it was probably because of calorie-counting and keeping a strict food diary which I hope to avoid doing now.
So yeah, that’s why my weight-loss is stuck again. I’ve gained 1,3kg since 22.12.2017, and actually only 0,3kg of that is actual ”christmas weight” that I put on over the holidays. That’s weird and annoying as well, how did I put on only 0,3kg when I LITERALLY ate 8000 calories everyday for like three weeks but when I’m trying to be healthy and I’m at least exercising, I put on 1kg in a month??
I feel annoyed, sad, frustrated and disappointed in myself. I’m just so lost and don’t know how to approach this situation. I feel like the only way I can lose weight is to count calories, track everything in myfitnesspal, plan every meal, control everything. I hate that. I hate to be so dependant on a tool. I can’t track everything I eat for the rest of my life, so I want to learn to stop doing it now. But I have no idea how.
For right now I think I will start a super simple and allowing food diary: just putting on the names of the foods and times when I ate it. No calories, no macros, no nutrients, no every-ingredient-listings. If that does help, maybe I will do it for a while and hopefully learn to be mindful about my food so I can eventually stop that as well. Best idea I can come up with anyways.
If you made it this far, I must congratulate you, this is so long and rambly I think even I will never read this again :D Just needed to vent and think out loud. If you hate this type of posts, well, I think this is not going to be the last one so... Sorry. You can always skip if these bore you. I will still be posting food diarys (once a week is my goal), recipes and progress pictures (if I ever get any progress..), so stay tuned for that~
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deh apartment hcs
so i was just scrolling thru Tumblr Dot Com™ and I saw a post that said “does anyone else ever daydream of decorating their first apartment?” (if anyone knows who made that lmk) but anyway i saw that and was like omg if that ain’t alana and then i was like wAIT WHAT ABOUT THE REST OF THEM so here’s this. fyi this is like a college au type thing ish??
(im sotired this is kinda shitty lol)
(also thank u so much for the luv on my last two hcs? i cr ied? les get to the point sorry)
alana:
ok so this girl would obviously have the neatest apartment ever
it would probably be like a medium size ya know
white walls.
lots of white walls.
and there would be like really pretty marble countertops
her beadspread (or whateverthefuck u call it) would probably be like grey with white little lines on it
in a pattern tho
like a cute pottery barn one
OH
she would so freaking use evan’s discount at pottery barn are u kidding me
like her entire house would look like a pottery barn catalog
anyway
idk if all apartments have this so excuse me if i sound mega stupif
but she would use the little intercom-buzzer thing to get into the apartment to her full advantage
like if u wanted to even go up there she would legit do a full on background check
(except for zoe)
(zoe would be like “hey alana it’s-” and alana would be like “yOU CAN COME RIGHT UP”
but it would be like
“hello who is this?”
“alana you know it’s jared. i just texted you.”
“… ok then what’s your middle name”
“aLANA”
but anyway back to what inspired this in the first place
so alana would SO plan her apartment out from when she was like young enough to understand it ya get it
like she would pick out furniture at age six
(her taste would obviously change as she got older but u get it)
and she would literally have it down to the p a i n t color
like she would walk into home depot or whatever and the worker would expect her to look around for like 40 minutes but she’d be like
“hi hello i’ll take seashell grey in the gloss finish please. make it quick.”
(i totally just made that up what the hell is a gloss finish never heard of her)
i also picture her having lots of house plants? like most of them would be fake bc she’s too busy to keep them alive but they wouldn’t look fake
yeah alana’s apartmetnt would be so put together and like clean cut and nice
zoe:
her apartment would be rad okay
i feel like it would be v hipster and cool
not like Hipster™ but like… hipster?
what am i even saying
okay
so she would definetley have a room with yellow walls
like her rooms would be painted cool colors and stuff
but yellow specifically
she just seems like a yellow person
she would have a big wall that’s all chalkboard paint
wait now im really excited about this wall oh my god
like when everyone would go over her house they would all take a chalkboard marker (real chalk makes too much of a mess) and write and draw on it
evan would do little doodles of trees and write sweet and encouraging stuff
connor would either draw a hecking masterpiece or write really small in the corner “fuk u”
there’s no in between
alana would just doodle hearts and stuff
or when she’d be over doing homework w zoe she’d try to teach her math and science and stuff on it
a w
jared would just draw memes
i think we can all agree on that one
but annyyywwayy
she would refuse to get anything like store bought mainstream
like she would go to little shops in the middle of nowhere
or garage sales
and get the cutest stuff
her house would be so homey but at the same time like “wtf why is this so perfect”
l o t s of tapestries
don’t fight me on this
it wouldn’t be the regular mendala ones that a lot of people get
(but she would for sure have a few of those too)
it would be like really cool unique stuff
lots of maps of the world
tie dye
ya kniw
they would mostly be taking up all of the celing space and some wall space in her room
she would so have a polaroid camera i KNOW IT
and she would put them all on pieces of string w clothespins and string them up around her room
all pics of her frands and stuff
awwww zoe
she’d also probably have a room just for her dog
(btw if u didn’t see my other hc i see her as having a golden retriever named kiwi)
(but anyway)
like it was supposed to be a closet sbut she just didn’t use it
so she was like “well… okay let’s do this”
and evan will spend h o u r s at a time in that room
ugh she would just have the cutest apartment v colorful and stuff
evan:
evan’s apartment would be v small
he llved with his mom the first two years of college but decided to move out because he was feeling like he made a lot of progress and was ready to live on his own (btw is it canon tht he lives w his mom first year of college? i forget lmk)
(but he wasn’t really living on his own bc connor was always over or he was at connor’s place)
he would have a v little sitting area w a really old tv and a worn out couch that was probably free on the side of the road or cheap from a garage sale
he would have a fridge and oven and stuff but he’d mostly just use the microwave
(ho;ly shit “some people say just use a microwave…”)
(i h8 myself why why why ok moving on)
his diet would mainly consist of ramen noodles
bc he doesn’t want to leave and have to socalize with people at fast food places or the grocery store
but every once and a while zoe would come over like “evan wtf” and make him food to hold him over for a while
(uh hc that zoe’s a really good cook??/)
he would have a little bedroom with a big window in it
and his comforter would be blue with navy stripes (similar to The Shirt™ but not completley the same)
he would have lots of sticky notes everywhere
like ranging from “don’t forget to feed the dog” to “don’t worry about it, it’s probably not a big deal”
and when he was in a really good mental state he would write them and stick them in places he know he’d see when he wasn’t in the best shape
and it would encourage him to keep going
wow that’s equally heartbreaking and adorable
ok don’t fight me on this we all know it’s a thing
he would have plants. eve ry wh ere
like there wouldn’t be a single fake plant in there
but he loved them bc he felt like it made the air fresher??? like it supplied more oxygen in the room which made it easier to breathe when he was feeling anxious??
(idk i can’t really explain it but that’s how i feel when i get anxious so i feel like it would help him too)
but it would range from huge ass borderline trees to succlents the size of his thumb nail
he would have s o many succulents
he would name them all
aaaaaaaAaAAAA
and each of his friends would have a plant named after them
even though it was small he really loved his apartment
bc he worked really hard to be able to pay for it and buy the furniture and stuff
so it was like his baby
yeah that’s my boy evan handsoap!
connor:
connor’s apartment would actually be pretty big
like everything would be super super high quality and nice
he would so have a recliner chair
you know the one i’m talking about okay
and he would spend most of his time in there
even though he def has a huge nice sectional
(btw most of his furniture is black)
when evan would come over he wouldn’t want to get up out of it
but even always wanted to cuddle
so the first time evan was like “con come over hereee”
connor just scooched over
and evan was like “??”
but just went over to him
and they were kinda squished but they loved it
bc they were so close to eachother
AW IM SCREECHING
but yeah they would love to cuddle on the recliner
his kitchen would be p nice too
like he would have a weirdly high tech fridge and a really nice oven and stuff
but if u opened the fridge there would just be like a half dranken (that is nOT a word) bottle of mountain dew, a cheese stick, and maybe on a good day some random leftovers
(btw idk why but i see his parents buying him most of the stuff in his apartment,, this doesn’t really make sense when i think about it but i can’t not do it what am i saing now awioehfdlsnk)
his room would be nice
he would have a big bed with a black and white plaid duvet cover
omg evan would l o v e his bed
like evan of course loves his own bed but connor’s is just so comfy
(plus connor’s bed also has connor)
(anywho)
his walls would be like a greyish blue color
but his furniture would still be all black
he would have a big desk and he always kept sticky notes around for evan to doodle on if he ever got anxious
and he has an entire drawer in his dresser just for his hair ties because he has an unhealthy amount of them
at all times
partly because he wants to keep his hair up sometimes
but partly because he always wears one around his wrist to snap when he gets mad or can’t control his emotions
and he always ends up loosing them
oh also his shower in his bathroom would be BOMB
like im talking it has one of those little ledge chair thingies
and the water pressure is a plus
and evan’s shower at his apartment is like sucky so he always just showers at connors
(i mean this in the least innapropriate way possible btw jus clearing that up)
but connor would spend SO much time there
so would evan tbh
so yeh
jared:
ok guys
hear me out on this one
but i feel like jared would have a surprisingly nice apartment??
like,,, actually very nice
they would all love hanging out there when they were all together
the first time he asked them over they were like “… u sure”
they were expecting to walk into something that looked like a super crappy hotel room with garbage all over
but they walked in and were like “jared what the fuk”
because this place was nice
like,, , he would always have the most food out of all of them
(which wasn’t saying much but still)
he would have a big nice couch with lots of extra like beanbags all over
they would all have their own that they used
and his tv would be poppin okay
he would have his old wii hooked up to it
and they would constantly have mario kart tournaments
jared always insisted on being wario
for the Memes™
he would be the only one out of all of them with an amazon fire stick so they would always watch movies all together at his house
and sometimes they would just randomly take it without telling him
(i’m looking at u connor)
and he wouldn’t notice for a few days but when he did he went cRAZY
but anyway
his room would b supa cool
he would have a really nice bed
omg he would have like video game and other nerd stuff posters e v e r y w h e r e
like everywhere
little to no wall space for anything elsee
every once in a while he would go through his camera roll and print the pictures that he liked the best to hang up on his wall
hear me out bc this is gonna sound weird
he would probably have a dead meme shrine in one of the corners of the wall on the bottom
that he started as a joke with connor and zoe once but it jst spiraled out of control until every dead meme was recognized as soon as it went out
he would have a tv in his room
not as good as his one in the living room but still
he has two tvs what even jared
that’s where he would put his xbox
and he would game all night man
ah i love jared sm
ok that’s it hope u enjoyed ahhahah
#this is another long one oh boy#hope u liked it! tell me if u want me to write more haha#deh#dear evan hansen#dear evan hansen headcanon#apartment headcanon#deh hc#dear evan hansen hc#deh headcanons#evan hansen#connor murphy#zoe murphy#alana beck#jared klienman#tree bros#zoe and alana#jared my boy#deh squad#sincerley me#for forever#waving through a window#my headcanons :)
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part one: underestimated silence - gang!shawn
Word Count: 2883
A/N: warning to all readers, please know this story will be filled with potential triggers and will contain things such a drugs, violence with mentions of blood, and bad behavior. there will be quite a bit of foul language. you have been warned. DO NOT read if you are going to complain about any of that. give me constructive criticism if anything, i always appreciate any kind of feedback. let me know how you like the first part of this series!
*Shawn’s Point of View*
You know when someone has nothing better to do with their lives than talk shit about someone else like it’s going to solve anything? When they seem to believe that opening their big mouth and fueling violent altercation is better than just keeping it zipped and going about their day? Pathetic, right? I’m no saint, but I’m not one to waste my time on someone of no use or meaning to me. Just not worth my precious time. Most days I try to be the bigger man and walk away. You really think I’m going to waste my time on someone constantly downgrading me and clouding my mind with nothing but derogatory comments? No way, Jose. However, I’m a firm believer of you get what you give.
Like I said, I’m no saint, sometimes their ruthless slander cracks something in me and I just loose control over myself. You get what you give, you punch a 5’9 well built, 28 year old man for talking shit about your family right in center of the face, of course you’re going to get punched in the eye. Violence is a two - way street.
“Shawn! Shawn! Stop, get off of him, he’s had enough! They aren’t worth this much of our time.” Shawn’s best friend, Stephen yelled, prying Shawn off the big mouthed man. Shawn recoiled into Stephen’s tug, heavily panting from the rush of adrenaline and anger swimming through his body.
“You’re lucky he was here to stop me.” Shawn warned before storming off into the barely lit streets. Stephen jogged after Shawn while the man who just got a assbeating from a man smaller than him yelled more than likely degrading statements in Spanish as he recollected himself.
“Dude…” Stephen began when he had caught up to Shawn, making him scuff and roll his eyes. “Are you okay?” He asked concerned about his best friend, not really phased by the reason they were on the move. The men took quick, large steps as they headed towards their apartment to give up the mischief for the night.
“I’m fine.” Shawn stated sharply, clearly irritated. The guys were use to seeing each other like this when you find yourself at home with the menacing group of the world, you get used to seeing your partner beat up and shut down. Stephen huffed and pulled out a cigarette.
“Want one?” he asked, lighting his own. Shawn glanced over and got a little excited when he figured out what his friend was referring to.
“Oh my god, yes, please,” Shawn grabbed the one Stephen was handing him, along with the lighter, “Fuck.” Shawn whispered after taking his first puff. He brought the cigarette up to his lips once more and took a drag. The potent smoke filling his lungs made him feel a tad bit better, he knew cancer sticks weren’t exactly the best medicine. However, at this time and place he couldn’t care less.
As Shawn and Stephen arrived to their surprisingly spacious apartment, they immediately were drowning with exhaustion. It had been an incredibly long day, that’s for sure. “Goodnight dude, make sure you clean that up before you go to bed. Do you need any help?” Stephen offered, wanting to be reassured his best friends wasn’t in need of any assistance. “Nah, I’m going to take a shower so I’ll be fine. Thanks for offering tho bro, I appreciate it. Goodnight.” Shawn responded, giving his thoughtful friend a small smile.
Stephen returned the gesture and headed to his room, beyond ready to jump in bed and begin counting sheep. Shawn made a trip to the kitchen, reaching into the fridge he pulled out a Gatorade and headed to his room. Shawn was lucky enough to call the master bedroom with the attached bathroom his own and he never took that for granted because to him it was such a luxury.
As Shawn closed his bedroom door behind him, he tore off his shirt and threw it across the room where it landed just beside his laundry basket. He groaned and shrugged it off, “Oh well.” he mumbled. He walked straight into the bathroom intending to turn on the water, when he walked past the mirror and stopped. He closely observed the wounds inflicted on his face. He scoffed, “Great. Just what I need, another day of Professors and complete strangers asking me what happened and if I’m okay,” he shook his head, “No, no Teach, I just fell off my bike. Guess next time I shouldn’t be out riding so late.” He mocked his prediction of something he’ll have to be saying a lot tomorrow. He gently rubbed his finger across a huge gash underneath his ridiculous black eye with a painful hiss. Rolling his eyes he returned back to his previous intention of turning on the shower, and began thinking about how shitty his day went. You wouldn’t think fighting someone in a random alley what feels like everyday is considered normal, but for Shawn it was. After adjusting the water’s temperature to his preference, he got undressed and hopped into the shower. The hot water worked its calming magic as it descended all over his body.
Once Shawn finished cleaning up, he dried off and put on some fresh boxers. Shawn reached over his bedside table for a small white bottle labeled ‘Ibuprofen.’ He knew all this fighting was getting out of hand, but he knew for the sake of his family and his own future, he was going to have to stay one step ahead of them. After screwing off the lid and dumping a few in his hand, he threw them in his mouth and washed them down with the Gatorade. Feeling the liquid replenish his mouth, he closed the bottle and checked the time on his phone. 2:47 am.
“Tomorrow’s going to fucking suck.” he sighed, putting his face in his hands before running them through his hair. “Might as well get it over with faster.” He mumbled to himself, double checking the alarm set for exactly 45 minutes before his first class begins. Pulling the blanket over his barely dressed body, he rolled over and placed his head on his favorite pillow. Falling asleep was no issue, once his eyelids were closed he drifted off into a paradise of darkness.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Hey, Lylia? Have you seen my Fall Out Boy shirt?” You asked, scavenging through a hamper of clean clothes. “You really expect me to know which one you’re referring too?” Lylia shouted with a laugh, her voice seeming to be getting closer. Soon she appeared in your doorway, all ready for the day, a half eaten sausage link stabbed on a fork in her hand. “I made breakfast, by the way so hurry your ass up so that you have enough time to eat.” You glanced over at her, envying her incredible energy for so early in the morning. “The black crop top,” you began, making her scuff, “the one with their little logo on it.” you finished, adding more detail. She scanned your overall look, a habit of hers. You stood their anticipating her response as she stared at your in your ripped jeans with fishnets peaking through and only a super cute bra on.
“Oh!” She squeaked, running off. You figured she had it because around here there was no difference between Y/N’s and Lylia’s clothes, you guys shared practically everything. As you awaited her return with your shirt, you took one last look in the mirror. There was a party a few hours after school, and you wanted to make sure you didn’t have to worry about getting ready later so you made sure your makeup was on point for the night. It would be easier on you to just have to freshen up rather than rush a full face of makeup later. Picking up some hair spray, you set in place your head of curls and positioned them to your liking.
Out of nowhere you feel something being thrown at you and spin around to see Lylia standing there with a smirk. “It’s clean, don’t worry.” You gave her a skeptical look and picked the shirt up off the ground, giving it a quick sniffle to confirm her statement. After being confident the shirt didn’t smell like disgusting sweat, you put on the small shirt. “Oooooo, girl you are serving looks for days!” Lylia complemented, making you giggle. “Thanks, Ly.” You smiled, reaching over to grab some perfume. “Of course, now come get some food. Also I’m sparking up this blunt, so let’s get going.” You watched as she happily galloped away. A few squirts of perfume later you slipped on your combat boots and grabbed your over the shoulder bag filled with all your school shit from off your dresser. Unplugging your phone, you head out of your bedroom and out to the kitchen, hearing the flick of the lighter get louder and the smell get stronger.
“Serve yourself up a plate of food and come hit this.” Lylia says, taking a puff a few times as a smirk grows on her face and smoke surrounds her. You noticed the plate of pancakes placed to the right on the stove, accompanied by a plate half filled with eggs and the other with bacon and sausage. You happily made your plate and sat next to your best friend of almost 5 years. “Thanks for cooking, I appreciate it.” You praised, taking a big bite of your pancakes. Your blood red headed best friend gave a kind laugh, “Psh, of course. Thank you for rolling spectacular blunts.” You both begin laughing, “Teamwork.” You insist, putting your hand out for a fist bump, she meets you in the middle and hands you the blunt afterwards. You smile as you take a puff, admiring your work, and taking a minute to appreciate your food.
This was almost daily routine for you guys, Lylia would always make sure there was tasty food for actual meals and quick munchies for little stomach filler around the house. Most mornings she would cook you guys some kind of amazing breakfast, if she didn’t the only reason would be because there had been leftovers from the previous morning. Your morning job, on the other hand was to make sure there was a pre rolled prepared by meal time for a quick smoke sesh, just before the two of you headed out to the first class.
“Ready to go, Y/N? Class starts in 15!” You heard Ly yell. “Yes! I’m coming!” You responded, emerging from your bathroom having just finished brushing your teeth. “Let’s roll out!” You said, following Lylia out the door.
Confusion struck you and Lylia upon arriving to your classroom, normally there was a few people already seated but everyone was standing up, looking bored & rather zombie like. “What’s going on?” you asked a friendly man by the name of Colin, standing next to you. He turned his attention toward you, “Professor is giving us a new seating chart for the new semester, I guess.” He explained. Lylia and you nodded in acknowledgement. “Damnit, I hope I don’t get sat next to Gold Digger.” You heard Lylia groan from beside you, referring to the nerdy guy in class who seemed to believe there’s a treasure chest hidden up his nose and was not shy about his search. “I’m pretty sure that’s what everyone’s hoping right now.” You laughed, Colin and Lylia nodding in agreement.
“Alright, alright everyone,” Professor Englandou came into the room, a clipboard in his hand, “let’s get you seated and hop on the train of learning new things.” He began pointing to seats and reading off classmates names. The upside of this class was that it was very small, only sixteen students so it was a very intimate, laid back class to begin with every other day. The setup of the classroom was structured to benefit partner projects. Each table sat a pair of students, and there were only two rows of four. “Lylia, Stephen.” You heard the Professor call out pointing to the second row on the right side. Lylia and you exchanged glances before she started to reluctantly walk to her new seat.
The seats were starting to fill up quickly and only a few students remained standing. “Y/N, Shawn.” Professor called, pointing to the third row on the same side as Lylia, yet not directly behind her. You mentally thanked your Professor for not sticking you with Booger Boy and basically behind your only real friend in this class. As you made yourself comfortable in your new seat, you noticed no one was left standing, yet no one occupied the seat next to you. Your professor scanned the new seating setup and looked rather proud of himself, he took a deep breath and was about to speak before the door swung open and appeared a troubled looking young man.
“Mendes,” he sighed, “nice of you to join us. Your new seat is located next to Miss. Y/N. Now everyone, it’s my pleasure to continue you all the next chapter of our Forensics journey, welcome to ‘Forensic DNA Analysis.’” Your Professor resumed class as your new table mate made his way over. You immediately noticed his injured face and as much as your instincts told you to do something, you pretended like he wasn’t even there. This wasn’t the first time he’s come to class with his face looking like a rotten cantaloupe. As he sat he quietly mumbled, “Hey.” You responded with a quick smile his way and a quiet, “Hi.” You both focused your attention on your Professor, invested in what he has to say.
“Now, for the last 45 minutes I have an assignment I’d like you all to work on. Flip to page 139 in your books and answers questions 1-35, all in my format. All answers will be found in the first chapter so don’t be telling me you can’t find the answer. You know the rules, don’t even bother handing it in if it’s not in the correct format. If you need any help, give me a holler. If you don’t want to work right now, that’s your loss bud.” Professor Englandou explained, the whole class pulled out their book and began getting the work done. Everyone in the room wanting to take advantage of the free time and felt extremely eager to get this assignment done so they don’t have to worry about it later.
As you finish question 10, out of habit you begin looking around the room. You observe everyone putting most all of their focus into their written work, your guys land on the mysterious man beside you who was only on question 5. Your eyes darted up to his face, cautious of being caught. You noticed he was dozing off, the dark circles under his eyes showed further proof that he clearly hadn’t been getting enough sleep. There’s been countless rumors spread around campus about him, all negative of course. Mainly about drugs. There’s only trait most seem to care about, and that is how attractive someone is. He was an attractive guy, ladies were crazy for him, despite the intimidation, they lusted for him.
You noticed the gash just below his eye had been bleeding for a bit, him being completely unaware. You noticed there was only 5 minutes of class left and began quietly putting your work away. Afterwards you searched for some first aid stuff you always keep handy. You pulled out a singular disinfectant wipe along with a bandaid. Quickly you set the two important pieces of care on his books, making sure not to wake him knowing he wasn’t in a deep state of sleep. You turned back, collecting your stuff making sure you were ready to bolt out the door as soon as Professor announced dismissal. Lylia was turned around and had seen what you had did for the curly haired brunette next to you, instantly you knew she was bound to have a smirk plastered on her face the rest of the day.
“Alright class looks like it’s 12:30, enjoy the rest of your day and don’t forget that assignment is due Thursday first thing, set it in the basket on your way in the door.” Professor warned as students fought to be the first one out the door. Shawn woke up at the sound of the teacher’s voice and took a minute to collect himself once again. Just as he noticed the drips of blood on his paper, he was surprised to see the disinfectant wipe packet and a large bandaid. His face was confused, he glanced and up and made lightening quick eye contact with you before Lylia and yourself exited the classroom. He smiled a bit to himself, grateful for the simple, kind gesture. As he collected his stuff in his backpack, he didn’t notice the Professor watching him from behind his desk. Shawn was too focused on getting out of the classroom and off campus to notice his Professor watching the tall young man who rarely ever showed up to class with positive energy or good vibe around him, leave with a slight smile on his face.
#shawn mendes#shawn mendes imagines#shawn mendes imagine#imagine#imagines#shawn mendes preference#shawn x reader#shawn mendes x reader#fanfiction#fanfic#tyingmyveinsinknots
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I'll Kick Your Ass! I'll Kick My Fiancee's Ass! I'll Kick My Own Ass! (6/11)
Last Chapter
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Thanksgiving Break
FaceBook Messenger:
Shampoo: Ukyo!
Shampoo: Ukyo!!!!!!!
Shampoo: UKYO!!!!!!!
Ukyo: Hey. I just got home. What’s wrong?
Shampoo: EVERYTHING. Why didn’t you message me back?
Ukyo: I turned off my phone in the car. I wanted to talk to my dad. And I was reading him Good Omens.
Shampoo: Oh, isn’t that nice, you got to bond with your father and I gOT SEX TIPS FROM MY GRANDMA!
Ukyo: Explain.
Shampoo: You’re never gonna believe this shit.
Ukyo: Don’t have much of a choice.
Shampoo: Last month Mousse kept asking me when I was going to come home, and I said not till Thanksgiving break
Ukyo: You live like an hour away, tho
Shampoo: That is why I had to come up with a good excuse!!! I told him I had a boyfriend and I wanted to spend my weekends with him.
Shampoo: Mousse said, bullshit, so I told Ryoga to text him and tell him he couldn’t come over for Thanksgiving break so he would believe me.
Ukyo: Could you get to the point?
Shampoo: I am! So Mousse came to pick me up this afternoon, and we’re chit-chatting in the parking lot, and who should roll up?
Shampoo: RYOGA. WITH A PACKED BAG.
Shampoo: HE TOLD MOUSSE HE WAS GOING TO SPEND THE WEEK WITH US
Ukyo: That’s so nice of him!
Shampoo: HE’S SLEEPING IN MY ROOM, UKYO.
Ukyo: Uh…
Shampoo: We don’t have a guest room. I said he could sleep on the couch, but grandma was like, “What? He’s your friend and you’d have him sleep on the couch like a dog?” So I said, “Okay, I’ll sleep on the couch.” and grandma said, well, it sounds better in chinese, okay? Less blunt.
Shampoo: She said I’m in college now, so it’s cool, cause we must be…
Shampoo: AND MA JUST SAT THERE DRINKING COFFEE AND NOT MAKING EYE CONTACT.
Ukyo: What’s Ryoga doing?
Shampoo: He’s in the bathroom. He was really excited to take a shower without worrying someone is going to walk in on him. He mentioned it in the car.
Ukyo: I probably shouldn’t think that’s cute, but it is.
Shampoo: It is.
Shampoo: Not helping.
Ukyo: Shampoo. Hun. Honey.
Ukyo: Chill.
Ukyo: All I’m hearing is, ‘I get to hang out with my friend Ryoga over the break, and don’t have to worry about my ex hitting on me’.
Shampoo: But we’re going to share a bed. Have you ever shared a bed with a guy? Two words:
Shampoo: Morning. Wood.
Ukyo: He didn’t offer to sleep on the floor?
Shampoo: What floor? With my full size in here there is functional space only. It’s the bed or pressed up between the bookcase and the wall.
Ukyo: Just talk to him. Or sleep feet to head. Or with your heads in the middle. Or whatever. It’ll be fine. You are not going to slip, fall over, and accidentally have sex with Ryoga. I promise.
Ukyo: I have to go get dinner with my dad. You okay now?
Shampoo: I guess. We’ll talk soon?
Ukyo: Promise. <3
Last five posts from okinomiyakimeansiloveyou.tumblr.com
5. Dancing turkey gifset
4. Long post about native american culture, vis-a-vis Thanksgiving + charities to donate to.
3. A blurry photo of the tops of someone’s shoes, just under a shelf of canned cranberry sauce at what looks to be a grocery store
2. Shit, did that just post? Fuck. Why meeeeeeeeee
1. I don’t want to tell any of my friends about what happened because I told them to stop whining about Thanksgiving stuff, and I think I’m fine. He didn’t see me, and by the time my father found me he was gone.
Ranma’s Diary
I saw Ukyo yesterday. He looked pretty good for someone crouching behind a display of cranberry sauce.
I think he was hiding from me.
I thought that was kind of funny, because shouldn’t I be hiding from him? And his dad? Don’t they both want to kill me?
I haven’t thought about Ukyo in a while. I try not to. Well, I tried not to, and then I got really good at it, which I think they call forgetting.
I really liked Ukyo. They were cool. Really cool. Normal, too. Their house was always clean enough, and they had lots of different kinds of food all the time. Dad usually just eats whatever I’m supposed to be eating, so a lot of pork chops and hard boiled eggs and protein powder. Somedays I’d go over to Ukyo’s and there would be mexican leftovers, or tuna noodle casserole, or five different lunch meats, and I could eat anything I wanted.
Okay, the best thing about going out with Ukyo wasn’t the food, although the food was great. And it wasn’t the making out, or just lying on their bed and chilling, either.
And it wasn’t hanging out during lunch, or buying gifts for each other on christmas or
There were a lot of really great things about dating Ukyo.
I remember the first time I saw Akane, all I could think was: “He’s not Ukyo.” I was mad enough he was a guy (well, you know, I thought so at the time) but it just seemed so wrong that he wasn’t Ukyo. Like they should have found a male Ukyo or something and that’s who my dad should have been trying to marry me off to.
The Tendos have good food too. Lots and lots of rice. I think Kasumi likes rice cause it’s cheap, and it’s easy to make and she never seems to run out. I mean, she told me that, while she was cooking once. I was sitting on the floor while she wandered around the kitchen. She was making a big ole pot of curry, just a huge tureen of the stuff, and she was going back and forth from the stove to the counter checking the rice and the curry, and poking at something she made for dessert, cause I think she liked to make dessert when I came over. I mean, she told me that.
Kasumi reminds me of Ukyo a little. Not just because they’re both good cooks, but because they both make you feel really calm. Kasumi never seems to talk. You just sit next to her and you learn things. I’m sure she talks, she’s just so…soft. I don’t know. Like you know how when you know someone really well, and you hangout with them a lot, you stop noticing them? Like they’re a chair? I mean, in a good way. You don’t have that, ‘strange person’ alert going off in the back of your head all the time, you just feel totally relaxed like you would if you were alone.
That’s Kasumi.
Anyway, I was on the floor, watching her feet, and I think I had asked her what she thought about Akane and me, and she said,
“I think that mom and dad wanted to raise the perfect woman. Someone who has beautiful children and runs a successful business and marries into a good family that can help with the dojo. Between the three of us they’re going to get her.” that’s how I found out Akane was trans. I mean, I had this weird feeling, the way Nabiki joked about having two sisters, but they didn’t really sound like jokes? She would tease Akane about being feminine, but it seemed more like gushing. Like when one of your friends gets super obsessed with something and you call them a nerd because you’re crazy about that thing too. Like that.
Okay, so I’ve just written this long character study thing, but I don’t feel much better about seeing my old bae hiding from me in the supermarket with the ‘seasons greetings’ and ‘goodwill to all’ signs already up.
I think, the point I was trying to make, somewhere in here, was that I miss Ukyo, and I want to talk to them, but what am I going to say? I miss them because of what I did, and even if they feel the same, it’ll probably be just like finding out Akane is trans.
“Hey, we have this thing in common! Maybe we can use it to build a bridge over this huge chasm of anger and resentment between—nope, it all fell in.”
From: [email protected]
Hey Akari, not sure if it’s been a long time since we’ve talked, or it feels that way because I’m on break. I’ll be home soon though! It’s going to be great. A proper slushy christmas. The weather over here is a little strange. It’s just cold and bright. Not warm, but everything seems to glitter, even though there’s no snow yet.
It is very strange sharing a bed wi[deleted]
Thanksgiving is very interesting this year. I’m used to the tradition since this is usually when I would go visit mom, but it’s very different to go for a week and to actually live here and see how desperately everyone is using Thanksgiving to stave off christmas.
It’s also very interesting sharing a bed with a girl. I mean it’s not bad it’s just really really intimate and I never even did this with you and I’m waking up wrapped up in the way she smells and the warmth of her and [delete]
So far things have been pretty relaxing, here’s hoping that continues so I’m all rested up for finals. I’ve been studying very hard for my calc final because it’s my last one, and the sooner I finish it the sooner I’m on my way home,
Can’t wait to see you.
Ryoga.
The Tendo House
Kasumi’s recipes: Moussaka!
The video opens on the familiar view of Kasumi’s kitchen and an unfamiliar guest.
Kasumi: So, I don’t actually have the money, or the fridge space or literally anything that would make making an extra Thanksgiving dinner worth it.
Akane: I mean, you could have done it in August and—
Kasumi: (Throwing her arms around her sister in an effort to startle her. It works) So I’m here with my sister, Akane, and we’re going to make something that, while not a traditional Thanksgiving dish, is delicious, warm, and perfect for sharing.
Akane: And then Kasumi is going to start on the actual Thanksgiving stuff, and she’s going to post videos of her two best dishes so you have them for next year, or whenever.
Kasumi: (Releasing her sister) It’s going to be brisket, and a cranberry sauce recipe that you will actually want to eat. But for now (she claps her hands together) Moussaka!
Wide shots of fresh produce occur, as well as plenty of slicing and drizzling with oil. The moussaka comes together, layer by layer.
Abruptly Kasumi’s voice over and impersonal shots of her and Akane’s hands are replaced by another wide shot of the kitchen.
“Kasumi, I’m going to the store, do you—“ A boy appears on screen, roughly Akane’s age. There is a rather criminal amount of swagger in his walk for someone whose white gi pants are sticking out under a puffy, flourescent orange winter coat. He stops abruptly when he notices Akane.
Kasumi: (finishes layering zucchini in the huge black pot the moussaka is going into and walks past Akane to rinse her hands in the sink). I think I’ve got everything I need. Wait—Do we have pickles?
Akane: No, I finished them last night.
Kasumi: Pickles then. The sour, garlicky kind. Strips, not chips or squewers or whatever else they have. Strips. Here, I think I have a few dollars in my purse.
Boy: Oh, no, I’ll pay for it. What’s a couple of bucks between-(he fumbles and takes a different track) I mean, you’re doing thanksgiving for us. It’s the least I could do.
Kasumi: Speaking of feeding you, what kind of food do you like? I’ve got a good sewing video, and one about fixing pipes in the making, but after thanksgiving I’m going to be clean out of food video ideas.
Boy: (Clearly just wanting to get out of the kitchen) Christmas is coming up, right? What about cookies. A bunch a different cookies, in, like, gift baskets. That seems like your sort of thing.
Kasumi considers this for a minute, hands on her hips. She seems to evoke a certain gravity on this boy. He looks like he wants to leave, but a certain force is keeping him rooted to the spot.
Kasumi: (With a decisive nod) Then I’ll need more flour, sugar, butter…You know what, I’ll write up a list. Akane, are you okay going with him? He might need a little help with all that stuff.
Akane: (Looking very similar to the boy, in that she would love to say no, but finds it impossible in front of Kasumi). Okay. I’ll help.
And, in a voice over that follows a seamless transition back to Moussaka layering, Kasumi explains: And that is why Akane is not in the rest of this video, as well as a sneak peak at what I’ll be doing soon!
The three most important posts from timetoddddie.tumblr.com:
3. A post reblogged from fuckboisgetmoney: Ryoga’s battered face and the caption about possibly starting a guro blog. #not a guro blog exactly #documenting the strange goings on at a small college out in the sticks of the east coast #jk #it’s people dueling over a girl #what is my life
2. A photo of the top of Kuno’s head, from the time Nabiki stayed with him at health services for a minute. It’s the crown of his head, a splotchy bruise extending from the top of his forehead to his perfectly tousled side part, looking almost like a miscolored extension of the latter. #can you believe he’s our kendo team’s star player? #school spirit #fuck you nsj
1. A picture of the head of the girl’s gymnastic’s team with a spread of bruises over her torso, the vibrant colors broken up by a grey sports bra for modesty’s sake. Nabiki payed for this photo with a bag of jelly beans and five RedBull. She wanted to see how the purple and green flesh played with the rock hard muscles of the girl’s core, and she wasn’t disappointed. #my sister totally isn’t worth this #i love the girl #but doesn’t this look painful? #glad all I gotta do to get a guy is put on some sheer tights
Not Anal
At least he waited till black Friday. At least he had the decency.
Look, sometimes you wake up in the middle of the night and you realize you left your bra on because you fell asleep while watching movies with your friend in a post feast stupor. (We always eat late cause the restaurant is usually open. Thanksgiving has never been a big deal at our house because Grandma is in charge around here and she never cared, so she doesn’t really expect us to, but ever since I was about nine and could ask for it we would eat a nice meal on Thanksgiving. Grandma kind of likes an excuse for a big meal, so she lets it happen).
So, anyway, like I was saying, I woke up in the middle of the night and I was half asleep and too clumsy to get at my bra without taking my shirt off. Once underwire was no longer digging into my ribs I rolled over and fell back asleep.
Which, and I swear on my grandmother’s soon to be dug grave, is why I was topless when Mousse decided to come barging into my room and announce that he was going to fight Ryoga for me.
So I’m sitting there trying to cover my chest and screaming at him to get out, and he’s screaming right back that this has nothing to do with me and that he just wants Ryoga, which of course sends mom and Grandma running, because now he’s woken them up, and then I really started howling at everyone to GET OUT and I think grandma implied that it looked like Ryoga and I had been having sex in my room, which is such bullshit, because she never said anything when Mousse and I had been fucking in there, but once Ryoga and I are being total slobs and leaving our clothes and junk food everywhere, then we MUST be having sex, so then I was screaming at her about that—
That is when Ryoga decided to slowly, slowly, sllooooowwlly wake up. I’m serious, his eyelids fluttered, and he stretched his arms over his head, and he propped himself up on an elbow and cracked his jaw, and then, and only then, did he say,
“What the fuck is going on?”
At which point I wacked him with a pillow because everyone else in the room had already seen my breasts and I was more pissed than modest.
“You’re fighting Mousse in the alley behind the restaurant in ten minutes.” I told him, and that seemed to satisfy Mousse, because he nodded and left. Mom and grandma went with him, chatting about who should referee. They seemed to think this was going to be like the little sparring matches Mousse and I used to have when we were still doing martial arts, and not a knock-down, drag-out kind of fight.
“Why am I going to fight Mousse?” Ryoga asked once they were gone.
“For the grand privilege of fucking me, of course.” I said, getting out of bed to figure out where I had thrown my bra.
“But, uh, we…”
“Yeah, I know.”
That is when I got this really awful idea. I swear, my face should have done that grinch thing where his whole face curls in on itself.
I turned around, kicked off my sweatpants-said a little prayer of thanks that I had run out of comfortable undies and was wearing a pink thong- and got back on to the bed so I could start crawling toward Ryoga, basically everything I have on display.
“Maybe I’ll do it, too, if you beat the shit out of Mousse.”
Ryoga’s eyes were enormous. Almost bigger than his head.
“I-I have—you know that I—“
Have you ever tried to crawl sexily? Not easy, but by the time I was close enough to Ryoga to put my hand on his thigh it didn’t matter.
“I know you have a girlfriend, and you’re trying to reel in, like, five more,”
“Just Akane. I mean, Akari. I mean, I’m going to tell Akari to her face.”
By then we were face to face, maybe an inch apart, my breasts just brushing his t-shirt, and I said, “That’s the best part. I already know all that, so I’m not going to get sloppy and tell them, and you aren’t going to have to worry about me expecting you to marry me like my grandmother might.”
There wasn’t an inch between us. I couldn’t even look in his eyes anymore, that’s how close we were. I could feel his breath on my lips, and I could feel that he was hesitating, but I didn’t know if that meant he was holding himself back or if he was trying to force himself to do something.
That was when he threw his arms around me and crushed me against him. Ryoga Hibiki kisses like he’s never going to get the chance again. Like he’s been out in the woods for weeks on end and he’s so desperate for human contact that he’ll wring it out of you.
And this after sharing a bed with me for almost a week. I wonder what his girlfriend is going to get at the airport.
I’m pretty sure that’s the thought that woke me up enough to punch him in the chest(there just wasn’t space for me to do anything else. I couldn’t get his lips off mine to say something) knocking him back enough that I could say, “You should put some shoes on. That alley is all gravel.”
That killed the mood.
So I’m standing out in the back alley, my mother doing a little count down, my lips still tingling—I mean, jesus. No wonder this girl was willing to do long distance. Jesus.— and I know that there is no way Ryoga can take Mousse. Maybe in a kissing contest, but Mousse has years of martial arts training. Ryoga has mass. You can do that math.
Except Ryoga, while he might be big and muscley, has that charming british accent so you know he’s not an idiot. He stayed defensive, which was good. I probably should have told him that Mousse is a cheat, rather than that thing about the gravel.
Okay, Mousse doesn’t exactly cheat, but he’s underhanded. He likes to strike lots of little blows and wear you down, rather than straight up beating the shit out of you.
He does that after you’re worn down.
So Ryoga is staying defensive, feinting here and there, but he’s not giving Mousse enough room to make the little blows he likes. So Mousse starts hitting Ryoga when his guard is up. Hits that glance off his forearms, but hits all the same. Trying to rile Ryoga up, I don’t know.
Mousse went in for another quick punch, and Ryoga rammed him. Arms up, he absorbed Mousse’s blow and ran forward, sending Mousse skidding on the gravel, and slammed him into the back wall of the restaurant.
You know, I didn’t actually see the knife. Just the movement of Mousse’s hands. I didn’t need to see the knife. I knew it was the nice one with the pearl handle. Christ, I saw it when mum was doing the count down, but I didn’t think for a second he would take it out.
But there it was. I knew that movement. I had watched Mousse practice it over and over with his first switch blade, a small black one he found in the tool box under the kitchen sink, until her could whip it out in a second, with a motion like flicking dust away.
But I didn’t actually see the blade flash. I didn’t feel Ryoga’s collar in my hand, but that’s the only thing I could have grabbed to send him flying backwards.
All I felt was the impact of the punch I landed on Mousse’s nose. The crunch of cartilage. His glasses broke, cutting both of us.
I don’t want to talk about this anymore.
Akane’s Diary
I didn’t realize Ranma used to date. I mean, like he actually had a significant other, not just messing around at parties like me.
I was sort of waiting for something to happen that I would want to write about more than this, but so far things have been pretty calm and it’s between writing about this and considering a personal ad in the school newsletter asking for a dude who dressed up as batman for halloween and met a girl dressed as Zelda. This is the healthier option. I’ve got to forget about that stuff.
Okay, so, two days before thanksgivng Kasumi has me doing a video with her. Actually, I asked if I could be in one. Never mind. We’re making moussaka.
Suddenly Ranma shows up wanting to know if Kasumi wants anything from the store. Long story short, I wind up in the car with him. It was a nice car. Not the luxury kind people who actually know things about cars whistle over, but the seats were comfy and the heater was good.
I said that to him. Since the silence was kind of awkward. Which maybe made him think I wanted to have a conversation, even though all I wanted was to stop feeling like we really should be trying to have a conversation.
“Was that apron your mother’s?” He asked, “The one Kasumi was wearing.”
It took me a minute to remember that the apron Kasumi was wearing had ‘Tomoko’ embroidered over the heart.
“Yes. Kasumi made it as a gift.”
“I see.”
The silence resumed, and felt even worse because I could feel the topic of mom looming before us.
Have you ever been in a situation so awkward you said something that would normally plunge you into an awkward situation, but you’re so strung out on having absolutely nothing to say that you sort of hope this will circle things back to a normal conversation? Of course not. Because you’re normal.
But me, I say to him, “So where is your mom, anyway? Your parents divorced?”
He doesn’t answer, and I think it’s too personal a question until he finally says, “Huh. I guess I have a mom…”
I burst out laughing. “What kind of answer is that?”
He shrugged, but he was smiling a little. “I don’t know. I’d believe dad had me himself if he could. I never had a mom, and he never talked about her.”
“Why?”
“What did I just say?” Ranma said, but he said it in a nice way, like we were sharing a joke.
And thus, thanks to Ranma’s non-existent, though theoretically probable mother, the awkwardness lifted for a minute, and we managed to talk about school, and food we like, and other normal things, until we were walking through the pickle aisle, and he suddenly grabbed my wrist and pulled me in another direction.
“Don’t look,” He whispered, “My ex is behind the cranberry sauce.”
What else was I going to do? I looked. Ranma Saotome isn’t the boss of me. And I really wanted to know what a person who not only put up with him but made out with him looked like.
Their gender was kind of indeterminate, and I couldn’t get a great look at them except to say that they had long hair and were wearing a really cute sweater.
“I told you not to look!” Ranma dragged me clear over to the milk, this weird back corner where it’s a little quieter than the rest of the store.
“Let’s just stay here.” He said, like that was a great plan.
“Ranma, we came here for groceries, not to play chicken with someone you used to date.”
“You don’t understand. Ukyo hates me.”
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, then did it anyway. “Gee, what a surprise. Another person who hates you.”
“Hey, Ukyo used to like me.” For a split second I thought Ranma was going to show a serious emotion, forlorn, maybe, or longing, but instead he got angry, “And they still would if it wasn’t for you. I don’t want them seeing you.”
“Don’t you dare make this my fault.” I hissed at him.
Wait, I think he did manage a serious emotion: panic.“I didn’t mean it like that, I mean they might blame you, and—”
“Sure. I’ll be by the register whenever you think it’s safe to come out.” I marched off with my little basket swinging, thinking that I wouldn’t mind never seeing Ranma again.
But, since I knew that wasn’t going to happen, I wonder if I should have found Ukyo and asked them what they saw in Ranma. They dated for a long time, I think, so there must have been something they liked about him. Maybe I should have asked them what it was, instead of standing there in front of the checkout aisle, getting madder and madder until Ranma finally showed up with the car keys, outstretched a little sheepishly, like he knew he was being an idiot, but was really hoping i wasn’t going to say anything about it.
I didn’t say anything at all.
#Ranma 1/2#rankane#fanfiction#ranma saotome#akane tendo#personal#shampoo#ryoga hibiki#ukyo kuonji#kasumi tendo#sex ment#kissing
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[OT] Old school party
playlist
Where does this story belong? Instagram (not on that). Twitter (seems too long, and I don't tweet). Blogger (who blogs these days?). Snapchat? (please, i'm not 13). Whatsapp (I don't even know what that is). Facebook? (no good pictures and too long)... a story i wrote 25 years ago, and updated in 2007. Does this short story stand the test of time? I'll let you decide. But I did snap the playlist that was saved from the Saturday morning cleanup... and somehow I saved it for the last 30 years in my nostalgia bin. good times. "I wish there was a way to know you're in the 'good old days' before you've actually left them" - Andy Bernard. Excuse any typos. I don't feel like correcting any of them at this late moment.
308 stanton
last updated: 20-jul-07
so it was decided. we would indeed throw a party at our house. we’d kicked the idea around for months prior, but nobody championed the idea, so it never came together. this time, we still didn’t have a champion for the effort, but we all kind of came to a zen-like calmness about the decision to go thru w/ it. while waiting in some incredibly long beer lines (really, more like beer circles, with the keg at the center of the concentric circles of folks waving their plastic beer cups) at the Green House, only 5 short blocks away from our house, we finally told each other enough times that we were sick of waiting in other people’s houses, while the beer-gods up front w/ the taps decide who drinks right away (young, good looking women who are friendly, and whoever lives there), and who waits (all males who aren’t actually living at the house or from the house guys’ hometowns).
there were a few party houses that had developed nicknames and that didn’t need directions or street names to go along w/ them. kind of like the ‘cher’, ‘prince’ and ‘madonna’s of the iowa state university campustown houses. we had the ‘gamma Gs’ (a fake frat / party house on lincoln ave). we had the green house (a mint green party house on knapp). we had the ‘pink house’. and we had ‘230 campus’ (a collection of apartments w/ loose keg policies, and plenty of opportunities for crashing parties). we had others, too, but they already have slipped away from my mind forever. the real question was: could we compete w/ the old established houses and get anyone to come to this new location? (‘old, established’ is relative, of course. in real years, their reputations were about 3 years old. but in ‘college time’, tho, it was like 2 generations, like 40-college-years. an eternity. legendary) what if we threw a party and nobody came? we had egos to protect. and our pocketbooks (stupid name... let’s just call em wallets) and we had so many unknowns that could ruin the event (a blizzard, a potentially mega-huge competing party, possible ‘barn dances’ the same night [but that’s another whole story there, the infamous isu ‘barn dances’. pay your $5, get on an old yellow school bus, get driven 15 miles out to the boonies to some guys barn, drink your guts in, puke your guts out, make the rounds and hit on all the women (who make up a HUGE 15% of the party, jump on a bus that leaves every 15 minutes back to campus, stagger home… yack in the bushes a few times if need be. well, i guess that doesn’t require a whole new story, just thick brackets] ).
so, we picked a friday 2 weeks out. it was the dead of winter, early on in the new semester, w/ only a cyclone basketball game as the only known conflict. 308 stanton avenue, ames, ia, 50012 had keggers before, but outside ones, in the summer, where the house can be locked down. this would need to be an entirely inside party (feb in iowa). and this would be a ‘blow-out’ party. or at least we planned for that. not just one (or maybe 2) kegs and an invite list of close friends and neighbors (no lockdown needed. no duct taping cupboards, couches in front of bedroom doors, turnaround the tv, hide the remotes and CDs, tape the fridge shut, etc. this would be a take no prisoners (unless they pony up the $3) kind. totally open to whoever moseyed by. we had connections to a ‘band’ (i knew a band member from honors program, who lived in the ‘pink house’ (cory S). roach (my roommate), knew another band member from same band from his hometown. yup, need quotes around that ‘band’ word. 4 guys who all had instruments. and different instruments! that’s all you need to be called a band. erik, corey, zit, and ?. they agreed to play for our party. that was a good thing. i either forget their band name, or they didn’t have one (yet). nirvana or some such. i’m sure they didn’t amount to anything. but who knows? this was unique enough that strangers would be tempted to go to a house party w/ an actual live band playing. at least we hoped. we reached a point of no return when we reserved the kegs on the monday before. how many to buy? and how many to put on reserve? we settled on getting 3 up front, and 3 on reserve. had to put down some ‘serious’ money for them, and for the tap deposit, and the keg deposit. we had to scrape the money together, tapping out atm cards and bringing back cans/bottles for nickel apiece, etc (pry about $150 which of course now doesn’t seem as much as back then, when we were all about 2-4 years into paying out w/out ever receiving anything back yet).
so, we all worked our contacts all week. we stopped by our old dorm floors to tell everyone to come, and have them announce it at their weekly floor meetings. we even (or at least i did, can’t speak for my roommates) put up signs in the bathrooms and hallway and den on the old floor, to make sure the message got out. told all my classmates in every class (even the ones who normally don’t party hop, which was most of them. chemical engineers just don’t party. even at college. at least most of em). on the engineers side of campus (the ugly, male-dominated side. all the good looking co-eds in education stayed on the opposite side of campus, safely away from us), after 3 years, its amazing how many people you recognize by just walking around between buildings, even at a huge school of 25,000. we were like jehovas witnesses or magazine sellers, we would tell everybody we knew (either by their names, or maybe just their faces) about friday’s party. by the end of the week (thursday), most people i told about the party would say, “i know, i know, i heard about it like 20 times now”. that was a good sign. but i took that to mean that my roommates and me had just told them about it 5 times each.
we over prepared for it, that’s for sure. i blew off friday afternoon classes (but i made it to my 8:00 AM p-chem) we cleaned the house up. big time. in the old forgotten corners, we found and cleaned out magazines and unopened mail that were 10 years old. we put away everything valuable or breakable. we duct taped our kitchen cabinets shut, which included our very valuable raman noodles and assorted tupperware for storing leftover pizza, as well as glass-glasses. we duct-taped the fridge. we decided to barricade the bedroom doors w/ couches. (our house had one big, open room, full of old couches, and bedrooms shooting off of it, so it wasn’t difficult to do it. of course, we kept finding reasons to need to go into the bedrooms, so we constantly kept ‘sealing’ and ‘unsealing’ all the bedroom doors all afternoon. we totally cleaned out the bathroom of everything but one lil roll of toilet paper. moved all CDs, tvs, remotes, anything we could move, we moved, to bedrooms. we picked up the 3 kegs, putting 2 in the basement, and tapped one for upstairs. that was just for convenience and until folks (hopefully) started showing up. then we’d move that to the basement, too. the basement was the darkest, stinkiest, mustiest, mildewy-est, centipede over-ran hole in the ground (literally) i’ve ever seen. perfect for the dispensing of beer. we actually had someone voluntarily live down there. doug, who was only charged $50/month (we all paid $112) for some unknown reason, agreed to those living conditions. he laid down industrial strength plastic over the cracked, crumbling, dirty cement / cement dirt, put in some clothes lines for hanging all the clothes he owned, and put a mattress directly on the floor. he would always be bringing up to show us the biggest, most disgusting bugs/millipedes/centipedes/roaches that he found in his sheets. and he always smelled ‘musty’ when he first put on a new shirt and came up from down the dungeon. but the smell eventually wore off, or at least we got used to it. how HE got used to it is beyond me.
by 4:00, we were ‘ready’. the house looked so different.. so… clean. it put us in a goofy mood. a nervous mood. we had put the tv away, so the only thing we could do is listen to the stereo, play some darts, and wait. and drink. and wait. we were sitting on 3 full, cold kegs, slowly warming up. but we all just kinda sipped. it was gonna be a long night. even roach sipped. didn’t think that was possible for him to do. gotta pace ourselves. the band showed up, w/ their stuff. that was cool. it was one of their first ‘official’ gigs. they were playing for free, which was worked out beforehand. they were just glad to get top-(and only)-billing. and they told all of THEIR friends and ‘groupies’ to come, too, i assumed, or at least hoped. they found the most sturdy part of our floor to set up (which was a challenge. the floor was mushy, uneven, and spongy to the step almost everywhere. their amps and speakers were damn heavy, and they didn’t care about damaging our floor, they just didn’t want their expensive (rented?) things getting hurt as they fell thru the floor and landing on doug’s bed, or at least tipping over.
earlier in the week, we had recruited what we called (and in our defense, what everyone else in our world at ISU called), the ‘beer wench’. pry the most important person at the party. the pivot person. the go-to woman. except for any cops that may show up. the beer wench doled out the glasses, acted as a ‘bouncer’ to keep out high-school lookin kids, made sure nobody brought in their own glasses, but most importantly, collected the money. 3 for guys, 2 bucks for women. NO EXCEPTIONS. we knew if we had tried to collect the money ourselves, a few things would happen. we’d lose interest, we wouldn’t get beer in a timely manner ourselves, we’d get sweet-talked by our girl – friends (not just girlfriends, but … oh, i’m sure you understand) to not have to pay, and we wouldn’t be able to ‘mingle’. i can’t believe i forgot her name already… it’s only been 10 short years. cherry? lampy? i’ll come back to the name.. i’m sure i’ll wake up tonite at 3:00 AM shouting “April! April!” good thing the wife is in tampa. the B.W. was tough as nails, actually enjoyed being a *itch. and loved being in charge. getting her to help was the key, in hindsight, to a good party.
i remember the 5 of us (burk, woody, roach, doug, and me (aka homie – a name carried over from the dorm floor days of tone loc, when everybody was “me and my homies”) {scrappy and rebar minus doug would be the next generation to live there w/ us, but weren’t quite yet} standing in our empty house, nervously asking each other if we thought anyone will show up. we had no idea. oh, sure, we hoped, and we estimated, but what if only 17 folks showed up. hope they’re thirsty. and rich. we were a jangle of nerves, even tho we all tried hiding it.
luckily, at around 6, some folks started trickling in. some old dorm friends, duke and shu, came waaaay too early. i was the one who named duke, duke, back in the dorm days, cuz his name was john wayne H. that name stuck; John Wayne, The Duke. nobody knew him as john, and even as i write this, john sounds goofy… he was duke. wonder if that name stuck to him after college? pry not. folks like fuzzy from the roommates’ hometowns, and girlfriends, and some more stragglers started arriving, who we told to come early to drink before it got too crowded. and then, at about 7:30, the floodgates opened! this wasn’t new york city, where you went out at a stylish 11:00. here, you ate, then put on and up your party hair (for the flock of seagulls-type women), got together and started the night ASAP. in fact, you pry started right after classes on friday (F.A.C. Friday After Class drink specials. did any other campus have FAC bar parties?) like dime-a-tap-beer specials, the kind the city cops were always complaining about.
a crush of people started showing up, flowing in like a river. we moved the 3rd keg to the basement. the money started flowing in, and the beer flowing out. the volume picked up. we had achieved CPM. (critical party mass). the only thing that could extinguish CPM was running out of beer, or a visit from one of ames’ finest. plenty of beer was available, and the police stayed away all night. it was a sweet feeling being the giver of one of these, finally. barging to the front of the beer line (circle), and commandeering the tap. being able to fill up the young, nubile women’s glasses ahead of the obnoxious guys who i didn’t know. it was taken for granted that one must yield the power of the tapper to the owner of the house or his designated delegate upon request. all that power in one guys thumb. it was intoxicating. (or maybe it was just the beer. ok, it was definitely just the beer). the Beast. Milwaukee’s Best. cheapest stuff available. the basement, for the first time ever, actually was getting hot in the dead of winter. usually, our house stayed at about 65 degrees during day, and pry 50 or 55 at night (some mornings, and i don’t think i’m remembering this wrong, i could actually see my breath <insert bad breath jokes here>) doug had barricaded his ‘room’ off w/ his mattress and rope. it was still holding.
the band wanted to start warming up. the public enemy on the stereo was killed. it wasn’t like the opening of a U2 concert, let me tell ya. it just kind of ramped up… slowly.. so slowly.. guitarist tuning and playing some licks that were maybe recognizable. mic checks. random drumming. then, no friendly banter from the lead singer erik, welcoming us, or saying it was great to be at 308 stanton, ames. just the start of their first song of their first set of their first gig ever. and maybe it was just the beer (ok, most likely), but they sounded okay. i recognized their songs. they had the place rockin. people were actually dancing to them, and everyone was facing them. it was cool. i’m sure the band was into it, jammed into our corner, the throng pressing in on them.
during their first break, roach convinced me to help him w/ a ‘beer-ee-oaky’ song. put loud public enemy back on the stereo, and we would help chuck D belt out the verses using the band’s sound system. trust me, it sounds better when i type it than it sounded. i think we were unceremoniously escorted away from the mics by erik, to much applause.
i took a break to go across the street to 307 stanton. (aside: while co-op-ing (interning) at quantum chemical in lil old clinton/camanche, iowa, i looked for some off-campus housing for my return to State, i hooked up w/ roach, et. al who had found the house available at 308 stanton ave. unbeknownst to me, the future wife to be, B, had also been house hunting w/ some of her grrrrls. when she told me she found a house at 307 stanton, i thought she was pulling my leg (or pulling something). but nope. either she did some great detective work to find out where i was gonna live, and made sure she was close enough to be able to harass me, or it was serendipity. of the 25,000 student living quarters in ames, she picked the one 100 ft away. anyway, that led to “us” directly. 307 vs. 308. goofy how life works out. had she picked 230 campus ave who knows? i may be w/ one of becky’s roommates (hopefully not the goth i hate men patchouli wearin’ black dressin’ greasy hair unwashin’ coppin’ attitude liberal, pasty, pierced scary one w/ the 2 cats). anyway, becky (nee rebecca) was planning on being fashionably late to our party, and she was putting the finishing touches on her ‘party hair’ / peacock / bend over, hair spray your bangs, stand up. repeat, along w/ her friends/roommates maria and kelly. while at her house, at the upstairs windows, it was the perfect vantage point to take it all in over at 308. folks streaming up the sidewalks in waves, nay, armadas, from all directions, some carrying glasses (hope the BW confiscated em) and every time our front door opened, a huge plume of steam/smoke just poured out into the february night. really billowed out, like there was a fire inside. most of it was just hot, sweaty, humid air hitting the feb. cold, cuz there wasn’t many smokers there. it was somethin. wasn’t many cars out front, just a smattering (everyone lived walking distance to everything. one block off main campus street, in between everything, was 308). i loved that scene. was anxious to get back in the middle of it.
the peacock finally ready. getting back to the party, fighting our way thru the folks milling or waiting or getting cooled off or yacking or relieving or whatever, katie (kate! katie! the bw’s name! too lazy to correct it up there in the story, tho) was at the door, doing the her job better than anyone in the business. in fact, when i came back in, she was in distress. she looked relieved to see me. she immediately moved a couch and pulled me into the barricaded room (witte’s room) right by the door. i wondered why. here’s why: she then started pulling money out from every pocket and fold and sock and who knows where else. it was unbelievable. mostly crumpled ones, but a few fives and tens. damn! and she said that roach and burk had already cleaned her out a few times already. wow, a bed full of money... several inches high. i rolled it all up like the big shots do in the casino movies. ended up as a thick can-sized wad. and stashed it in witte’s backpack. never to be seen again. (nah, we all pooled all the money together in the ‘morning after’). thanked kate for her services, but told her it was only 10:00 and people still want glasses. went to the basement to freshen up the glass. some folks were relieving themselves in the way back corner. i started yelling at them, until i realized doug was back there, too, and it’s his room, so who was i to stop em? “hey! doug SLEEPS there! oh, hi, doug... nevermind. carry on”
near the beer, along w/ the countless plastic cups being held up, this one guy was actually holding up a sandwich tupperware, jockeying for position towards the tap. he had been drinking out of THAT. after working my way over to him, and trying to make him feel as stupid as he looked, i kindly suggested that he go buy a cup from kate and put back our favorite tuna sandwich tupperware. he was trying to tell me that that’s what they gave him at the door. i don’t think so. however, everybody’s attention quickly turned to the old 2 X 8 wood planks without railings that made up our stairs. roach was bounding down them, backwards, loudly, w/ a full keg tumbling right behind him. he was trying to hoist it down gently, but lost his footing. the keg landed on his left leg at the bottom of the steps, snapping his bone right at the upper ankle. ouch. first, he thought he’d drink thru the pain, and sat upstairs having folks beer him, sitting like a mafia don w/ his captains. finally, the wuss went to the hospital, got it set and casted, and actually made it back before the party was over. now THAT’s dedication. true anecdote.... actually, everything here is true... at least through the beer fogs of time. was too passé to have anyone sign the cast, but just put his casted leg up on a table, and folks kept his glass full.
upstairs, the band was working through their set list for the second (third?) time, but nobody cared. the game was to try to figure out the song first. sometimes, it took a few seconds (or minutes). burk then brought out his snake, Monty, the python. a big ball python about 7 feet long. coiled it around his neck, chomping on a big stogy ala schwartenagger. big guy was burke. played football as a freshman, i think. gave it up (or it gave him up) chicks dug the snake. and he passed it around to em. the snake loved squeezing necks. it was a huge, heavy thing, but always very sedate and nice. the heat inside the house was intense. crammed shoulder to shoulder absolutely everywhere. must’ve been 300 folks there. more kegs needed. someone already had picked up the 3 reserves, but we needed more. i enlisted duke and shu, along w/ becky (‘rebecca’ wouldn’t be born for another 5 yrs). <sermon time. yes, i realized i shouldn’t’ve been driving, but of the bunch, i was in the best condition. sorry as i was>. also, luckily, it wasn’t too far away. about a mile on slow city roads, w/ stop signs or lights every block. so, w/ 2 kegs in the trunk, and a few more in back seat, and w/ them sitting on em, and the back end almost riding on the tires, it was a precarious voyage back. had to break off some of the benjamins (oh, wait... i mean jeffersons and lincolns in cold cash, homie!) but we received a hero’s welcome back at 308. well, ‘we’ didn’t, i guess, but the beer did. hundreds of dry coeds and guys, having only drunk 1.50 worth, or 0.0 worth, or 5.0 worth, but still! a dry house! oh, the horrors. we had borrowed a second tap from someone earlier in the night, so the beer was disappearing quick. almost too quick.
a gaggle of chemE’s even showed up, and were off in a corner, in a tight group, looking shell-shocked, sipping their beers. maybe this shouldn’t have been the first party to invite them to, because everything was to the extreme. not for the timid. we (roommates/me) worked the crowd w/ pitchers of beer, whenever we got the chance or felt altruistic. i always started in that chemE corner w/ a pitcher and worked out from there, so they wouldn’t have to fight their way downstairs into the most aggressive beer circle i’d ever seen. tempers usually didn’t flare up, tho, even tho folks got spilled on, pushed, crushed, stepped on, because it was just par for the course. expected. and most everyone knew everyone else, or at least knew somebody who knew somebody else. no beer-rage here.
finally, the band wrapped things up (no encores, thankfully). they did an impressive job, and certainly didn’t embarrass themselves or our fine house’s reputation. back to the stereo, back to public enemy and other old school hiphop (and for roach: milli vanilli, who still liked that damnable trashy cd even after they were discredited as pop-induced lip synchers). and his milli vanilli posters and milli vanilli do-rags and ripped t-shirts and autographed 8x10 glossies? oh, c’mon! well, not really. he was more into new kids on the block. some young lil freshman-like girls thought nothing could be better than some garth brooks and some ac/dc, and that new rap *hit had to go. they kept trying to break into roach’s room to change the music. bad idea. they were escorted out. really annoying. “no! we want garth! not this rap sh**!”
after cleaning out katie (the BW) one more time, i made an executive decision. (actually, i think i ran it by whoever roommates i could find, just to make sure they agreed) i gave the band some playing money. 20 bucks apiece. of course, they weren’t insulted by the paltry sum. rather, they were thrilled at the unexpected windfall, which looked bigger than it actually was, via the delivery method of handing them crumpled, uneven, mismatched fists of cash. this was their first paying gig. they stuck around to see if any ‘groupies’ appeared, but nope, just the same friends they always party with. the band was always high on my pitcher refill list, too, right behind the circle of cowering chemEs.
people started filing out after 11-12ish. not a mad rush, but the direction was certainly out, not in. some pizzas should have been ordered w/ part of the windfall, but nobody got around to it. katie gave up the glasses job. we insisted that she take 20, or 40, or whatever a handful of wet, badly folded, mismatched bills was worth, because w/out her diligence, we would have not cleared half of what we did.
i didn’t have the energy or incentive to un-barricade my room, and chose instead the quiet, warm, dry, smoke-free puke-free, noise-free environs of 307 to crash for the night. i guess the fact that becky-the-big-party-haired-woman was there may have had something to do w/ that decision, too, tho, in retrospect, but actually not too much. even if sister ezekiel (a short, warted, mean nun in full nun-wearables) from my from 2nd grade teacher/nun had been in 307 instead of becky, i STILL would have went there.
the next morning was a bit surreal. walking back over to 308 mid-morning, still in a groggy/drunk mode, i couldn’t help but notice a few things. someone had written a big “NO BEER” with lipstick, on our house siding, right by the front door. kind of like a scarlet letter, scaring away would-be late partiers who heard about a great party too late. or maybe someone from inside kept getting woken up by folks wanting to ‘party’, and thought that sign would keep them from knocking. the front and side yard (and i’ll try not to be too graphic here) was a mixture of melted snow, and plenty of once-ran-through beer remains, as well as ample evidence of mass-indigestion. the bottoms of our house and nearby cars had all the salt and mud washed off them, many times over, in nice little ‘golden arches’. mcdonalds would be proud.
that was just a inkling of what the inside of the house had in store. in fact, it was worse than outside. the green matted shag carpet was barely visible under the broken plastic cups, cigarette and cigar butts, ripped up posters, overturned couches and cushions, some random bottles folks had brought in to tie (tide?) them over until the keg glasses could be filled, some wet rugs and pillows, muddied papers / newspapers and whatever else we didn’t lock up. the rug (that was visible) was soaked w/ melted snow, mud and spilled beer. witte was sleeping on a chair – apparently, he didn’t feel up to breaking thru his bedroom-barricade, either. as he was still waking up, tho, he was worried, and was mumbling about monty. the last thing he knew or remembered from last night, he had the snake, monty. and now, he no longer had the snake, and the snake wasn’t in its cage, and nobody has seen it after witte. so, ever so gently, we started digging for Monty. the snake needed to be found. somewhere. thankfully, he finally turned up in a couch, underneath the cushions, and no worse for wear (at least that we could see). we unwound him from the “C” wire cushion bottoms and returned him to his safe, warm glass cage. he needed to see a snake-therapist for months after this episode.
someone had tried running through a wall by the front door. they made it about half way through. if only i had the tools and know-how of sheetrocking then that i have now, i coulda done magic on that wall. however, a big, free poster for Bud (the bud girls.. remember them, in their ‘bud’ bathing suits written across 3 buxom babes and their underlying bud towel?) hid the hole just at good, and was a lot quicker, too. also, we had no running water. also, someone smashed the natural gas meters in the basement (why, we still wonder). also, the toilet was clogged and broken. the sink was clogged. the hot water heater wouldn’t re-light (someone must have saw it as a convenient ‘watering hole’ and of course every self-respecting guy needs to have a target in mind or have a watering post to help the flow). the main table we used for whatever (newspapers, phone messages, backpacks, groceries) was missing a leg.
but, oh, well, on the positive note, the party was a smashing success. literally. everyone slowly got up, and started putting the house back together. no radio. no tv. no stereo. no loud noises, period. the basement beer mud was thick, and smelly? damn! we all collected the money’s we had squirreled away (pockets, backpacks, hiding spots) and put it into a big pile. a very impressive pile. a foot tall, few feet across. wow. settled up the costs for the extra kegs, and tried to recount how much was given away, and to whom. i forget how much we each cleared, but it was a helleva lot more than we ever thought it would be. about 50 future keggor fees, i think. but we didn’t do it for the money. we did it just for the sake of doing it. with much of the proceeds, we set up a very healthy toilet paper / paper towel endowment fund for the house.. and we were the foundation chairs for this endowment. usually, we just traded in cans/bottles at a nickel a pop when we were way past desperate in the toilet paper arena. but now, we were now rich w/ paper! a whole semesters worth of no-worry bathroom visits.
roach’s leg healed no problem. (altho his car antennae got bent off, too, pry by someone steadying themselves against his car. shoulda got a portapotty out front). the plumber was called. gas company was called. the old pipes were used so much that rust had been shaken free and clogged it all up (or maybe all that bass from the band loosened it. the gas company guy (a young guy not too far out of college himself, or at least college-aged) took pity on us and installed all new natural gas meters for free. becky actually helped clean up, too. i remember that because she pulled the band’s song list out from the garbage and told me i should keep it. it was taped to the floor by the band so they would know the order of the songs, and could segue easier. it was written using a red marks-a-lot smeary, wet, torn, burned, but still barely readable. in fact, i think i’ll dig thru old college notes and memorabilia box under the ol’ steps and try to find that bad boy. too bad that band didn’t make it to the big time, i could auction off that piece of paper on e-bay for a fortune.
i had an interview w/ koch in wichita for that next monday, and had to leave sunday morning for the airport. i still wasn’t quite ‘regular’ and fully over the carnage from friday, but apparently i did okay anyway. i got the koch internship which led me to a full time koch job which then led me to 3m. so i credit that party a decade ago w/ putting me on the road to professional success. i highly recommend a similar career path for every collegiate. but just don’t agree to sleep in any basements, no matter how reasonable the rent. the top-dwellers paid $112 each. doug paid $50 in the basement cave. 4 bedroom + basement. 3 blocks from campus, 1 block from campus-town. house completely trashed when moved in. no security deposit needed. no lease terms. perfect house. we were last ones to live there. it was condemned and tore down the summer after we graduated. rebuilt an apartment complex on our old home. progress? i think not.
we had other parties after that first big blowout, but none were as big, crazy, fun, crowded, or as memorable as that first one was. we realized smaller parties w/ mostly people we all knew had lots fewer headaches than the free-for-all trash-the-house kind. Monty the python finally succumbed to the cold and unfriendly climate of a badly insulated house in the middle of iowa winters, and even though he had a heating lamp and rock, he didn’t survive the year. found him dead and cold and coiled up one morning. we had a snake wake in his honor, tho, where he would come out of his permanent storage location of our freezer, all coiled up, frozen stiff, right between the totino party pizzas, and grace the party goers w/ his presence. that was another good party. the snake-wake party. but all the rest run together. monty slowly degraded in the freezer due to all the handling and shuffling, parts of his skin shedding and peeling off into the freezer. and finally burk had to find a more permanent home for him besides intermingled in the pile of pizzas. (4 totino party pizzas for $3 at value-save-more-hy-vee grocery or whatever it was called)
prologue: about a year after graduating, i stopped by the old house on stanton ave, to see if i knew anybody anymore, and to see what they had done to our place (palace!). everybody was gone, a ‘condemned’ notice on the front door. weeds growing over all the sidewalks and driveway. that made me feel bad. what a waste of a perfectly good party house. they tore it down shortly after, and put up a new building in its place. so it goes. progress. moral of this story? is none. lessons learned? are none. when you’re living thru the middle of a crazy time like college, you take a lot of it for granted, and don’t even realize that it’s out of the ordinary to invite 300 total strangers into your house, have 6 hours worth of fun w/ them, and then they leave, never to see you again. and then the next week, you do the same exact thing at someone else’s house/apartment w/out thinking anything of it. what a time. gone by. gone forever. condemned to the dustbin of memories.
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