#was digging through my old drafts and found this lol

[bluebellss1]

I wonder what an ouran high school host club themed perfume would smell like.

I think it would smell like jammy, sweet, fresh cut roses, buttercream frosting, juicy, plump strawberries, and warm black tea, sweetened with just a bit of sugar.

#was digging through my old drafts and found this lol #ouran high school host club #ohshc #personal #perfume

[cathrrrine]

Perfect / Love Won’t Die

Dominick “Sonny” Carisi x Reader • Law and Order SVU • Domestic Fluff, AFAB!Reader

Summary: Sonny happily holds the bouquet of flowers he bought for his girlfriend only for her to open the door and start crying. He immediately panics, but soon finds himself amused when she reveals the true reason for her tears. AO3

A/N: I’ve never posted any of my SVU imagines, but I had to with this one :) Happy 2024! My resolution is to post more of my work so I’m digging through all my drafts and posting them lol. Enjoy husband material Carisi <3

In all the six months you had been dating Sonny, there were never many problems that couldn’t be resolved with a simple conversation or a hug and a kiss on the cheek. As far as Sonny was concerned, it was the perfect relationship. He had gotten to know all your little habits; likes and dislikes, pet peeves, niche obsessions. Six months wasn’t exactly a super long time but it wasn’t short either. After only half a year of dating each other, he’d confidently testify that he had fallen in love with you deeply, enough to want to spend the rest of his life with you. He was happy to get married, have babies, grow old together…the whole shebang.

Things were going steady with you. He couldn’t imagine himself being with anybody else, and he was over the moon to know that you felt the samw way. Long late-night conversations about the future the two of you dreamed of revealed that you wanted him to be a part of it as much as he wanted you. Sure, Sonny was aware of how much of a (hopeless) romantic he could be sometimes, but that was in the past, and all of those relationships weren’t with the right people. His sisters had been talking his ear off ever since high school, warning him about women that would only break his heart. It made him wince just to think about all the red flags they ticked off angrily; gold-diggers, manipulators, emotionally unstable women, emotionally unavailable women…and the likes of it. That and their own broken-heart experiences that prompted very fuelled lectures of examples of men Sonny shouldn’t follow always rang in his mind, even until now.

He’d also been made well aware of how right they were about his exes with a bunch of ‘I told you so’s’ and narrowed eyes, but those relationships were in the past and he was much, much younger (and dumber) than he is now. He only had a couple of serious relationships in his adulthood, which ended up not being the right fit for either parties. Then, his love life got buried under the heavy, heavy load of police work and law school and he never found the time to make himself available in the dating pool. He was always too tired, too beat, too mentally drained. It was never a priority.

Then everything came to a stop and his whole world wouldn’t do anything but revolve around you. Sonny was smitten, like a lovesick puppy who got shot by cupid’s nuclear-powered bazooka as fate would have it.

He never felt this way about anyone in his life before, it was a feeling he relished in and was adamant on not letting go.

You were perfect.

Obviously, you had your flaws, but all only human, none of them fatal. Like how you had a habit of ordering too much food but he ends up being the one to finish it up when you realised your eyes had been bigger than your appetite — but he didn’t mind that at all, in fact he secretly loved being able to feast like a King — or how sometimes, you would arrive 10 minutes late to your dates on one of your busiest weeks, which he never complained about because he had his fair share of being unpunctual as well. Plus, you always made it up to him one way or another.

You were absolutely perfect, inside and out. Sonny thanked God everyday for sending a woman as smart, beautiful and kind as you his way. He’s never felt so lucky.

Sonny knew and loved everything about you, down to your weirdest quirks. If there was a Jeopardy! game where the topic was You, he’d be waving around his trophy like a mad man. What you didn’t tell him, he learned. It was the same way you got to know him. The two of you were always honest with each other, trust being the pillar of your relationship, it was why you got along so well. You knew how to make him happy, as he did for you.

So, why is it that you were crying as he handed you a bouquet of your favourite flowers as soon as you opened the door to your apartment?

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” His sweet smile dropped to a concerned frown, uncomfortable and nervous at your sudden reaction.

There you were in front of him, dressed in your most comfortable pair of pyjama pants and an oversized tee that he was sure once belonged to him, messy hair up that he found extremely adorable. Nothing seemed out of place, except for the fact that…well, you were crying.

He always brought you flowers. Was he late? He glanced at the clock on your wall. No…was it something he said? Something he did? Something…he totally forgot about?

“Nothing- no, everything’s fine, nothing’s wrong.” You sniffed, hugging the fresh bouquet close to your chest, dipping your nose into the floral fragrance to smell it only to find that the tears had triggered an onslaught of snot. That only made you cry more.

The bubble of nerves in Sonny’s chest was bursting at this point, he was almost worried he was having a heart attack. “Doll, you’re crying, something’s wrong.”

He held out an arm to pull you into a hug and you eagerly sunk into his embrace. You buried your face into the fabric of his suit jacket, breathing in what you could of his faded perfume. His calloused hands stroked your hair, softly caressing your head as he cradled it. He gently peeled you off of him to get a better look of your face, now red and eyes puffy from sobbing.

He held your cheeks between his palms and you pouted, looking up at him with sad doe-like eyes, and if that didn’t break his heart that he must not have one because the look on your face was shattering him in every possible way right now. One of his thumbs swiped a fresh tear off your cheek, he felt you nuzzle into his hand.

The tall blond gently led you to your couch and set the flowers down on the coffee table before cuddling up with you close to his chest. You wrapped your arms around him desperately, wanting nothing more than to be absolutely engulfed by everything Sonny — scent, skin and biceps.

“You’re killing me sweetheart, you gotta tell me what’s gotten you all upset like this.” You felt him kiss the top of your head and love bloomed in your chest immediately. “Come on, doll, what’s up?”

You sighed, big and loud, huffing away all the choked up tears with one big breath. “I swear it’s nothing. I’m so stupid.”

He was quiet for a while until you felt his voice vibrate from his chest again, “Was it…me? Did I do something wrong?”

You whipped your head to look at him, only to be greeted with a very worried expression.

Oh, Sonny. Oh, sweet heavenly innocent Sonny. How could you not love this man with every fibre of your being when he’s got that look in his eyes? The one where his pupils are so dilated, you could see your reflection in his big, blue puppy eyes.

How could you have been so careless?! Of course he’d think you were crying because of him, the sweet stupid man — God, you loved him so much. The thought only made you more emotional…and just like that the waterworks came rushing back in.

“Oh, God, Sonny-“ you hiccuped, pulling yourself away from him to put your face in your hands. “I’m so sorry- it’s not your fault at all,”

The lovesick, worried-sick man shot up next to you to pull you into his arms once again, stomach churning at the wave of emotions you were going through. He couldn’t even detective his way through this, his mind going haywire with every sniff that came from you.

“Then what is it?” He tried to keep the panic out of his voice, “Did something happen at work? Is it that asshole again?”

With what he dealt with at his job, it wasn’t out of the question for his mind to be going down that dark path, but he shoved his anger and panic down to focus on your well-being, remaining rational until you were calm.

That made you shoot up to look at him again, words tumbling out of your mouth hurriedly to curb his worries. “No, no! I’m okay, I’m absolutely fine, Todd — that ass — didn’t do anything to me, I promise you, I swear to God. And it’s not you, it’s not anything even remotely related to anything sane at all. I don’t even know why I’m getting all worked up over a bunch of random things, it’s just so—“

“Doll.” Your boyfriend’s voice pulled you out of your rambling. The loving concern that radiated off of him was enough to bring you back to your senses. Gently, he asked again. “What is it?”

You melted immediately, both embarrassed and exhausted from all the sobbing you had been doing. “I’m on my period.”

Oh.

Oh!

“I know, I’m not usually this emotionally affected but my hormones are all over the place and my TV decided to autoplay The Notebook, now I’m a mess.” You sniffed. “I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t have seen me like this, much less deal with me.”

It was only then that the detective noticed the TV screen, paused on Ryan Gosling’s frowning face.

He tried to stifle his amusement, but it came out in a fit of giggles, much to your dismay.

“It’s not funny.” You pouted.

“I just— I thought—“ His laughter consumed him, shoulders shaking as he held up his palms to his face and ran his fingers through his hair, uncaring of how it would mess it up. Sonny leaned back into the couch and continued to laugh with his hands over his face.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice was so quiet it came out like a squeak, ashamed of how you cried like a baby in front of him. Although the two of you spent plenty times over at each other’s places and hanging out with each other, over the six months he knew you, you never had your hormones hit you this hard. It wasn’t uncommon to you, but it wasn’t a regular occurrence either, and it certainly wasn’t an event Sonny had the pleasure of experiencing…until today.

“It’s okay if you’d prefer to be at your own place right now, I totally get it. I won’t be offended in the least, okay? I’ll call you in the morning.” Some men in the past have been weirded out when this happened to you, so you weren’t lying when you said you wouldn’t be offended — it was ‘your fault’ anyway, that was what you had grown accustomed to.

But Sonny, the ever-loving and understanding guy, did not share the same view. Of course not! Raised-with-sisters, loves-his-mother, thoroughly Italian, good-Catholic-man-who-respects-women Sonny, would never in a million years ever even think about being upset with you just because your period messed with your emotions. And that’s why you weren’t sure why you were so surprised when he responded to your offer with a kiss.

This was Sonny. He would never think lowly of you because of something you couldn’t control.

“That’s crazy talk, doll.” He mumbled into the kiss, smiling as he continued to love on your lips. “I’d never leave you alone like this.”

You pulled away a bit to properly look at his face, “Really?”

This was the man your heart belonged to. You don’t know how you didn’t explode when he gave you the most charming smile that ever graced his lips.

“Really.”

Everything you were worried about solved itself into place, like sentient puzzle pieces figuring themselves out with confidence.

“You’re too good for me.”

Unabashedly, you continued to make out with your boyfriend on your couch, a newfound appreciation driving you mad with love.

“I’m only for you, babe. Don’t need anyone or anything else but you.”

———

Now that the two of you were freshened up and settled down with mugs of hot cocoa in your hands, you and Sonny were much more at ease.

There was nothing better to Sonny than to be cuddled up with his girlfriend with her head laying on his chest. You practically clung to the arm draped over your shoulder, making a nest out of his bicep for your face — which reminded him of a koala bear, but he kept that thought to himself. He was so comfortable, so happy that this was his life. His nose pressed against your hair, the scent of your shampoo reminding him of a holiday well-spent together in Mexico. Deja Vu hit him the minute he kissed your head, laughing through his nose when he remembered the events that happened just a few hours prior.

“Hey,” he nudged you with the arm you were glued to. You pulled your focus from the movie you were watching — a comedy, nothing that would make the ‘bloody demon hormones possess me’ as you put it — and raised your eyebrows curiously in response. “I’m just wonderin’…”

“Hmm?”

“Why did you cry when I gave you the flowers?”

You groaned, still somewhat embarrassed at the flurry of emotions you attacked the innocent man with. But you humoured the question anyway, “I opened the door and you were standing there, so handsome and so sickeningly charming, holding up flowers that you brought for me. You should be worried if I didn’t cry.”

“Wow,” he whistled. “I’m really that handsome, huh?”

You playfully hit him in the chest with your fist as you resumed your initial position, “Shut up.” A smirk managed to rip it’s way through your lips. “But mostly, I was crying because I was so sad that the flowers were going to die. I don’t know, just weird how my brain works on my period.”

It was a nonchalant mention, nothing big to you, but it stuck to his mind. Flowers dying made you upset. How precious was that? He catalogued the thought, filing it away for the future. The inkling of humour tempted him, though.

“So, not so much on the handsome part?”

You snorted, “Eh, I’ll give it a 60/40.”

“It should be in the news or something. ‘Guy So Handsome, Makes A Grown Woman Cry’” he gestured in the air as if there was a banner.

“How about, ‘Girl So Hormonal, Makes A Grown Man Cry With Her’?”

“Psh, I didn’t cry.”

“You so were.”

“Was not.”

You laughed, thinking he’d given it up when the sound of the movie began to fade into your hearing again.

“You should come over the precinct, tell the guys how I can make the ladies cry just by showing up at their door.”

He wore that goofy, toothy grin you were so accustomed to whenever he was joking around.

You rolled your eyes. Then decided to mess with him. “Excuse me? Ladies? Plural?”

The grin immediately wiped off of his face. “No- I meant lady, as in singular.”

“Mhmm.”

“I mean— no, that’s not what—“

“Sure, Son.” The monotonous voice you used made him sweat.

“You know you’re the only gal for me! I was just joking…hey, baby, come on, look at me…”

———

Months passed by and relationship milestones came and went. You finally met his family on month eight, and him yours. Month ten, you got a promotion at work and thankfully — not by your doing — Todd left the company. Sonny and the rest of the SVU team made a breakthrough on a case, you met his coworkers you heard so much about for the first time when he brought you along for their celebratory dinner. He was teased relentlessly for ‘keeping such a wonderful woman from us all this time’. You enjoyed the camaraderie that they shared with each other, and felt like you won a prize when they extended it to you.

Time passed by you so fast that you barely noticed it was almost a full year since you and Sonny made it official.

The day of your anniversary, he made reservations for the two of you at a fancy restaurant — Italian, of course. You reminisced the journey of your relationship together over some fine dining and a delightful bottle of wine. The ambiance, mixed with the light-headed feeling from one too many glasses of wine, only made the love you had for Sonny so much more emphasised. It was a dream, to be loved by such an amazing man, to have found your soulmate. If you weren’t at such busy points of your career, you’d literally have his babies right then and there. A couple of mini Sonny’s would do the world good, you pondered. Unbeknownst to you, the subject of your thoughts was thinking the exact same thing, only he was dreaming up a babble of mini You’s instead.

Sonny and you walked home together — he had basically moved into your apartment by now, he was finding it harder and harder to be separated from you at night. Having you next to him made him sleep better, and just generally being around you made him feel better — the two of you never made his move-in an official thing, but there was no need to. It was almost like you shared a telepathic connection. Although, Sonny being Sonny, will make the moving in an official thing whether you needed to or not. Maybe into an actual house, with a backyard and a huge kitchen and a family to raise in to make it a home. One day. Maybe even tomorrow. He’d do anything, anytime with you.

“Got you something, by the way.” He grinned, keys jangling on the doorknob as he swung it open for you.

“Sonny, you didn’t have to.” You blushed. One year together and he still had that effect on you.

“Well, I wanted to.”

While you were taking off your shoes, he used it as a distraction to take it out of the hiding spot he so carefully planned — his height being an advantage to said plan — and waddled over in his socks to where you were sitting on the couch, handing it to you once he was sat as well.

It was a daintily patterned gift bag, not too big and not too small either, with a card attached to it on the front. You carefully removed it to read his words in neat handwriting.

Happy 1 year anniversary, doll. I love you so much. You make me the luckiest man alive. My love for you will never die.

You wanted to cry, so touched by his short but undeniably sweet words. He saw how your bottom lip jutted out, the way it usually did when emotions got the best of you, and smiled to himself with a bit of pride in getting his words right.

Slowly, you pried the top of the bag open, only discovering a plastic dome. “Careful.” Your boyfriend noted.

You wondered what it was, going over all the possibilities in your head as you took it out of the bag; lava lamp, necklace, tiny bottle, lantern…only to gasp when you saw what it really was inside.

A small sphere-shaped cactus with a crown of pink flowers, placed inside a white ceramic pot with the words, ‘My love for you will never die’ engraved in cursive writing around it.

Ahhhh, here come the waterworks.

“Sonny,” your eyebrows scrunched up, lips fully pouting now. “This is the sweetest fucking gift ever.”

Your use of words didn’t go unnoticed by the smiling man, earning you a chuckle out of him. “I remember the time you cried when I brought you flowers, and you told me it was because you were sad ‘bout them dying…it’s cheesy, I know. Corny, a bit. But I thought you’d like it.”

The rising inflection of his voice gave away his nerves, but you were quick to make your appreciation known. “I do, I do! It’s just the most beautiful and thoughtful gift anyone’s ever given me. Thank you, baby. I’m- Aw…“

You choked up and he took that as his cue to pull you into his arms, careful to set the prickly plant down so you wouldn’t accidentally get hurt.

“It’s true though, my love will never die. You’re stuck with me for as long as you want me.”

“You know I’m shit at keeping plants alive, Son!” You couldn’t help the wavering in your voice, “Oh, but this is just so, so sweet. You’re just too cute for your own good.”

“Well, I was cute enough for you to accept the babbling guy who asked you out a year ago.” The giggling that followed made his blue eyes seem brighter.

“Yeah, I couldn’t say no to that face.”

You took the comfortable silence that ensued as a segue to your own offering to him, “Speaking of this cactus being put at the risk of dying, I’m gonna have to appoint someone to remind me it needs water every now and then.”

“I’m assuming that would be me?”

“Yup.” You shifted around to look through your purse. “So, I was thinking…”

Sonny narrowed his eyes at you, “Thinking…?”

You held out your palm and reached out for his, dropping a familiar weight into his hands. As soon as you pulled your hands away, the object revealed itself to be a single silver key with a brown leather strap keychain attached to the ring, ‘Det. Carisi’ engraved on one side and ‘Sonny’ on the other.

He looked up at you, meeting eager eyes that matched his own. You were practically bouncing with giddiness, excited to reach yet another milestone.

“Move in with me? Officially?”

God, you were so perfect.

“Abso-fucking-lutely.”

#sonny carisi #law and order svu #peter scanavino #dominick carisi #dominick sonny carisi #detective carisi #law and order svu imagine #sonny carisi x reader #carisi imagine #carisi x you #period fic

[chayscribbles]

chayscribbles’ monthly writing update ☆ january 2023

☆ STATISTICS.

words written: 10 029

projects worked on: Andromeda Rogue; The Gemini Heist; and a Third, Secret Thing :)

proudest accomplishment: uhhh i can't really thing of anything... i made it to 10k words for the month at the very last minute does that count

books read: Six Wakes by Mur Lafferty; Station Eternity by Mur Lafferty

☆ GENERAL COMMENTS.

as you may or may not have noticed i haven't really been active on writeblr lately. between work, the fact that it's january, and having to shovel through, like, 4 snow storms, i haven't really had the time or energy.

started the writing year super strong. hit a wall about halfway and have since been in a terrible slump for most of the month.

however it turns out that you can trick your brain into thinking it's experiencing New WIP Euphoria by digging up and revamping an old wip (i.e. the Third, Secret Thing).

book comments: both books i read were about murder in space. both were pretty good. both get a solid 4/5 stars.

(between that, watching Glass Onion, rewatching Murder She Wrote, and starting to watch Columbo, i think i'm on a bit of a murder kick lately.)

more specific wip-related comments + featured excerpt below.

☆ COMMENTS: ANDROMEDA ROGUE (draft 2)

not much to say about this one tbh. while most of my words from this month came from this wip, i've,, mostly just been patching up little things like smoothing over inconsistent details and adding a little meat to description and exposition... but i've been procrastinating on fixing the Big Stuff 😭

i really like how the new version is turning out compared to the first version tho. it's so much cleaner & that's very satisfying.

if only i could just *clenches fist* get myself to actually fuckin work on it

☆ COMMENTS: THE GEMINI HEIST (outlining / draft 0.5 or something)

i finished part 1 of 7!... and now i have no idea what i'm doing.

i don't think i like fast drafting lol. i hate how shitty my quality of writing has been. and yeah whatever that's the point of a fast draft blablabla but like, when my draft is already a little bit readable i can go back and reread parts and be like "oh hey this isn't half bad". and i know people are always like "don't reread right away!!! just keep writing!!!!!!!" but for me rereading as i go is part of the process lmao. not only does it remind me of important things i would otherwise forget, it also encourages me to keep going when i see that what i've done isn't terrible.

and... with this fast draft everything just feels terrible.

not to mention i can't seem to untangle plot... heists are fuckin hard to plan. especially since there's multiple opposing parties with different plans that are all going to inevitably go to shit, and so i have to make more plans for when that happens. it feels so complicated uuuggghghhhgh

☆ COMMENTS: a Third, Secret Thing (???)

i'm not gonna talk about it too much publicly yet so i don't jinx whatever is going on here (and i want to make sure i'm a bit more committed to this thing before introducing anything) but all i'll say is it's an older wip that i've talked about on my old blog that i've dug out and changed the genre into a dark modern fantasy mystery with messy sapphics.

☆ FEATURED EXCERPT.

alright i know i said i didn't want to talk too much about the Third Secret Thing yet but i couldn't find any passages to share in either AR or GH... so have this, with very little context :') uhhh tw for mentions of death and murder.

That’s how she ended up peeking groggily out the door at the frigid winter morning, having hastily thrown a sweatshirt over her pyjamas and a towel over her hair, only to have two police officers inform her that Vanessa Villa-Cortez had been found dead in her apartment early that morning.

“D… dead?” Amina repeated, her mind in a haze. She had to still be asleep, right? Maybe the guilt over ignoring that text had seeped into her subconscious and was feeding her dreams. There was no way someone was at her door telling her that Vanessa, a girl she hadn’t heard from in nearly seven years, was… was—

“Killed in an apparent burglary gone wrong last night,” said one of the officers gravely. “A neighbour noticed the door had been clearly forced in, went inside to check, and found Miss Villa-Cortez’s body on the floor of her apartment.”

Amina’s head began to swim. She clutched the doorposts to keep her buckling knees from giving way completely beneath her. No. No. Vanessa couldn’t be dead. Amina still had to answer her text.

if you know you know ;)

☆ TAGLISTS. let me know if you want to be added/removed to any of them.

genera taglist:

@nicola-writes @dgwriteblr @the-orangeauthor @retrogayyde @quilloftheclouds @ashen-crest @writeblrfantasy @celestepens @stardustspiral @pepperdee @extra-magichours @avi-why @lefttigerobservation @chazzawrites @bardolatrycore @innocentlymacabre

andromeda trilogy taglist:

@bebewrites @nicola-writes @dgwriteblr @the-orangeauthor @retrogayyde @akindofmagictoo @quilloftheclouds @nora-theteawriter @ashen-crest @corpsepng @writeblrfantasy @chaylattes @toboldlywrite @celestepens @stardustspiral @pepperdee @cheerfulmelancholies @extra-magichours @writeouswriter @cilly-the-writer @lefttigerobservation @rose-bookblood @drowsy-quill @chazzawrites @cynic-and-chief @enchanted-lightning-aes @aesa

gemini heist taglist:

@florraisons @akindofmagictoo @cream-and-tea @nicola-writes @memento-morri-writes @antique-symbolism @rose-bookblood @afoolandathief @pepperdee @avi-why @zonnemaagd @chazzawrites @analogued @enchanted-lightning-aes @innocentlymacabre @kahvilahuhut @celestepens @cilly-the-writer @extra-magichours @retrogayyde

#chayscribbles writing update #wip andromeda trilogy #wip andromeda rogue #wip gemini heist #and a third secret thing #if you recognize what it is you get a chayscribbles veterans discount

[warrior-u-preservation]

Interview with The Path Podcast (Full written responses)

(Note: The interview itself will be different, since mod myne represented both mods on the podcast. However, this includes our full feelings on the questions that were provided to us.)

Who are you and how did you end up walking the path of a "warrior u" writer/comic creator?

Myne: I go by worldismyne for fandom related pursuits.

I'd like to clarify that Aisha Thani is the creator of Warrior U. Just like multiple people have written for Stan Lee's creations, I'm just a writer who's received permission from the creator to distribute and monetize works within her universe.

I've been in the WU fandom since 2014; at that time Aisha made the comic, ran an in character ask blog, a concept art blog and the main blog. I can only imagine how much work that was. A hard drive crash killed about 6 or so pages of Ambrosia, the last story arch she was working on; three weeks worth of updates up and gone. I watched writer’s block take hold and kill my favorite series in real time. Having to go back and redo work she’d already done had given her time to look at it and go ‘I can’t post this, this is awful’, but by then all of us were waiting for the next update for over a month, she couldn’t go back and rewrite the entire arch. It didn’t help that this was the origin story for a fan favorite character, so there was all this pressure to make it perfect. Instead, after about six artists made fan comics to feed the hungry fandom… she announced the end. The website, the blogs, one by one they all ran into issues and got shut down. Hundreds of pieces of art and story concepts just… lost. Once the comics were rereleased on gumroad, that was it, the fandom slowly died. Before this project, the last time the creator posted new content was in 2017. Then in the middle of the pandemic, out of nowhere I get 70+ notifications from Coffee reblogging the pieces of art I had saved from the old blog, including drafts from the unfinished issues. 

Coffee: well, i go by coffee online, im 20 years old and when im not working on my various personal projects i work part-time. i was introduced to warrior u WAYY back in the day (i think i was like 9-ish?) by my brother who found out about it through some unknown and mysterious ways. back then i had very limited internet access (meaning i could only visit sites that could be loaded by the internet app on my nintendo dsi), so i pieced together a bit of a plot from what i could find on google images. i wasnt able to fully read the comic until i was 13 (i had to BEG my mom to pay for the pdfs lol), but it had kinda always existed in the back of my mind ever since i was introduced to it. i decided a little over a year ago to start out the tumblr blog because i had recently read through the comic again and was really sad about just how hard it is (or i guess WAS now) to find a lot of things related to the comic. as the name of the blog suggests, its original purpose was to preserve/archive warrior u stuff so it could be more accessable to your average internet user who might not wanna go digging through internet archives. it was originally for official content EXCLUSIVELY, but myne talked me into also including fan-made content (and im glad he did, its WAY harder to find some fan content than i remember it being just a few years ago). its kinda hard to tell how good of a job it does at BEING that archive, but i like to think it could be useful to someone out there.

i had toyed with the idea of finishing the last official story arc- ambrosia- near the beginning of the blogs lifespan, but i knew that it was too big of a project for me to do myself. i didnt wanna dissapoint people by leaving the ALREADY unfinished arc STILL unfinished. i had written in the "about" section of the blog that the dream was a full fandom revival, but i didnt actually expect that to happen. when myne joined the blog we eventually started playing with the idea of finishing ambro. i forget how exactly we officially decided we would do it, but we did! at some point near the beginning of ambro, we had also decided we were gonna write our own fan-arcs and post those too, and the rest is history!

What was it about warrior u that made you say "this is it. i need to make more content of this."

Coffee: honestly? i think it was just how much i enjoy introducing people to the comic. i already make tons of fan content on my own time, so that wasnt really the crazy part. i had shown a couple of my mutuals the comic after i re-read it, and the feeling of seeing other people actually talk about and even make ART of warrior u was absolutely surreal. i guess thats what happens when you just silently admire a dead fandom for years LMAO! another big part of it was HOW the comic ended. after taking a hiatus, the creator ended the comic mid-arc because creating it just wasnt enjoyable anymore, and thats obviously completely fair. however, the arc it ENDED on was elaborating on the backstory of one of (if not THE) most popular characters at the time (and my personal favorite), so i had always wished that the issue could have been finished. its kinda hard to put into words, but finishing ambrosia was like a love letter to the comic and its creator to me. as flawed as the plot of that arc may be (and as unsatisfied with it as the creator was, at least back then) i still felt like it deserved to be finished. it was like fixing an old toy from your childhood, i felt like we were taking care of the comic in a way, giving it the love it deserves. maybe thats just my tendency to personify objects and get overly attached to them coming through, but hey thats how it is sometimes LMAO

Myne: When the comic was still on hiatus after the harddrive crash, some people had asked Aisha if she wanted to hand the series over to other artists to help her. She said she wouldn’t even know where to begin that process or if she’d wanted to do it. I would have offered then, but my skills as an artist and a writer weren’t nearly as strong. I held onto the drafts thinking, one day I’d do it. 

Myne: After Coffee and I started talking I realized, I can do it now. I know what kind of style of pens were used, and I whipped up a page, just the line art and sent to Coffee as a thank you. I thought, it isn’t much, and it’ll take me forever to color everything, but if there’s one person willing to read it, I’ll try. When I explained how difficult it’d be for me to color, he offered to do it for me. Suddenly a page that would take a month for just me to do on my own took 3 days.

Myne: Something, that seemed like a monumental task became a realistic goal. We were able to find, restore, and edit 45 pages within a few months. I’m still amazed we were able to do weekly updates without missing a day. Coffee asked if I’d ever be willing to write fan issues while we were working, not realizing I was the author of the longest fics in the series. Of course I said yes. Seeing Warrior U get finished, even through fan creation, was something I’d wanted to see for years.

You're from Az right, how is the webcomic weeb culture over there as opposed to california?

Myne: Idk about much about Cali, I've noticed the cons are more... professional? Where as Arizona cons have more of a fanclub vibe. Most panels are hosted by your fellow nerds rather than sony or production companies. I will say, that it's become more common and widespread in the last ten years, with multiple anime specific events year round. Back when I was a kid, I'd get made fun of for drawing 'japanese' people all the time.... it was pokemon fanart... Where as nowadays, I feel the average kid recognizes most big name titles thanks to hulu and such. 

What are your favorite anime/manga/webcomics and do any inspire your work?

Coffee: not really an anime, manga, or webcomic, but ive always been super inspired by the "scott pilgrim" series. when i was in middle school i was SUPER into it, reading all the behind the scenes stuff i could find. it even made me look into "comic illustrator" as a career option, but i also did the same thing with "game designer" and "animator" so yknow. as for webcomics, the only one i ever really got into was homestuck. side note- the overlap of oldschool homestuck fans and warrior u fans is FASCINATING to me. my current theory is that all these tumblr kids were looking for other webcomics to read while homestuck was on one of its MANY hiatuses(?) and so a bunch of them flocked to warrior u! theres tons of homestuck crossover content and references in fan art on our blog (some of the art styles also look homestuck-ajacent) so its at least clear that a lot of fans back then were also really into homestuck. ANYWAYS other than that i havent really read many other webcomics tbh? weird considering i MAKE one now but what can i say, im more of a Gamer than anything lol. as for anime, my favorite is easily keroro gunso (or sgt. frog if youre using the dub name)! its another thing i discovered when i was young (this time i was like 8) and have just never gotten over. theres a lot of Questionable stuff in it (prime example is an adult alien being madly in love with a 14 year old girl) but if i dont look at canon its not real so i love it anyways <3.i honestly dont know how many people really know about it since the western fanbase is so small, but its like HUGE in japan (or at least it was at one point, the titular keroro has a cameo in lucky star as a keychian) and the manga is still running to this day iirc. it was created by mine yoshizaki and the basic premise is that a platoon of frog-like aliens come to earth to take it over but they really suck at it. they begin living with humans and from there its kind of a mix between a slice-of-life and monster-of-the-week anime. i cant really say anything in depth about the manga because ive only read the first 5 issues of it, which are basically the same as the anime (fake fan smh), but ive heard that it gets more mature and serious than the anime does (which i guess is bound to happen when it goes on for so long). also the manga has some ecchi moments and blood used for slapstick purposes so if anyone wants to check it out just keep that in mind lol.

Myne: Obviously Warrior U. I'm a bit of a visual novel fiend, so Danganronpa is a series I've found a lot of inspiration from over the years. More recently  Though for the comic, I draw mostly from late 80s / early 90s high fantasy. Things like Labyrinth and Robinhood: Men in Tights. Honestly anytime I get stuck trying to come up with a gag, I look to Mel Brooks. 

So in continuing someone else's work, do you feel a sense of pressure to be just as good as the original?

Coffee: i definitely felt that way when it came to ambrosia, but i feel a lot less pressure when it comes to our upcoming issues. i wrote and made thumbnails for a few small scenes in ambro and i was SO SCARED of those scenes being noticably worse than the rest of the issue. i know the original creator has seen our version of ambro and those scenes by extention, but i dont know her exact thoughts on them. im satisfied with them but theres probably always gonna be that kinda star-struck stage feeling at the thought of the creator reading the scenes i wrote. its like getting stage fright. for our upcoming issues i dont feel as much pressure because theyre fully fan-written. our comics arent official in any sense of the word and theyre basically just fanfiction with extra steps, so its not nearly as stressful as trying to tie together an "official" story. there definitely WOULD be that pressure if we were ever given the rights to warrior u or something (which i dont want to happen) because then it WOULD be official yknow? also if the creator decides to keep up with what we post ill feel a bit more pressure, but i get the feeling that she wants to distance herself from warrior u a bit so im not sure how likely that would be.

Myne:  I do. Partially because, the fan content we’re making is completely free while the original series is purchasable on gumroad. So there’s a chance that some people may start with what we’re working on, then go backwards to the original.  I'm hyper aware of the tonal shift that's about to happen, no matter how much I try, I can't perfectly emulate someone else's writing style. The best I can do is capture the spirit of it. I just keep repeating "it doesn't have to be perfect, it just has to be". It's a little harder taking that advice now that it's my scripts we're turning into issues. There is some freedom in knowing the series was never meant to be perfect though.

What drove you to writing the longest fanfiction for the series and how did it feel to be recognized and promoted by the original creator?

Myne: When I was younger, I would write fanfic instead of paying attention in class, and I really wanted a full story about the leads getting together. Knowing that the creator was reading every fanfic at the time added more fuel to the fire. I had a guaranteed audience, the audience. I was so grateful that she recommended it to other fans. That fic was 25k, I've written about 100 K in the last year to help maintain interest in addition to new pages to the comic. To that I blame hyperfixation and hiatus brain. You have to be the biggest fan of the thing you're making.

So i see the that most of your work including the webcomic Warrior U is on tumblr why did u choose to promote om tumblr as opposed to other webcomic outlets like webtoons, mangadex etc?

Coffee: the answer to this one is actually pretty simple; i already had a warrior u blog and tumblr is the social media/blogging site that im most familiar with! we have recently started using comicfury and tapas, but that was entirely mynes idea. im personally pretty content with just hanging out in my little corner of the internet so any attempts to expand or get the word out is mostly (if not entirely) mynes doing LOL!

Myne: It's interesting you bring up those two actually. Webtoons recently come under fire for being pretty crummy to it's indie comics, particularly if you write in any genre other than romance. Mangadex is a pirating website, so most of the comics there are fan translations rather than uploads from the creators : they had a pretty bad data breach a few years back too. At first we only had permission from the creator to upload on tumblr. Once we got permission to move forward with the fanmade run, we branched out to tapas and comicfury. They seemed like the best options for the genre and style we write in. Even still, we see about double the growth in readership on tumblr as opposed to the other outlets, and I think that's mostly because the blog updates daily, even though we only publish one page a week.

Do you have any plans on creating your own webcomic/manga?

Coffee: yes and no. i sometimes draw small fan comics and id like to make more polished and "finished" ones in the future, but nothing with any kind of overarching plot, at least not in the near future. i have a very hard time making original content for whatever reason. i DO have one (1) personal project that is completely original, but i plan on making a game with that. then again i have NO idea what im doing with that project anymore so who knows, maybe one day i WILL decide to turn it into a comic! only time will tell…

Myne: I have a visual novel I'm working on. It's about teen super villains that have to go to reform school. Think teen titans meets gifted kid burnout. The game's been in development hell since our first alpha build and writing about apocalyptic civil unrest wasn't as fun as it was pre 2020. We're about 200k into the draft for the full game and we're having to switch engines, which means cutting a bunch of features, but we're slowly getting there. If that fails, I'll try adapting the story into a comic.

To those people who will see this and decide to strut down the path of comic creation what is some advice you can give them?

Coffee: i think the most HELPFUL advice i could give would be this: you dont have to do everything by yourself. i personally have taken tons of inspiration from indie artists/game designers/etc. some prime examples of this are daisuke amaya aka pixel (who created cave story) and toby fox (who created undertale and deltarune), who both made incredible pieces of art that were defining to me as a person when i discovered them either entirely alone or almost entirely alone. you hear stories all the time of these great pieces of art being made by one or two people, and ive always wanted to be like that. as a result ive alwasy had a hard time reaching out for help when it comes to my art, feeling like if i cant do it all alone that itll never be as good as it could be. as a result though, all this mindset does is keep things from actually getting done and needlessly stress you out. NONE of the warrior u comics would exist if i had never gotten help from myne, and the blog would have probably gone inactive a LONG time ago too. i think thats the biggest lesson ive learned from this whole thing personally. theres absolutely no shame in working with a team of people if thats what needs to happen to see a project be realized.

Myne:  One, try not to put more than 8 panels on a page, that's helped me a bunch with page layout. And two, find someone you can show your work to. That can be a friend, a mutual online, a family member; as long as you have that one person asking "what happens next" you can keep writing. The stories/comics I have that are the longest are because of that. 

What inspires your art and what would u say you consider your style to be?

Myne: Invader Zim, Danganronpa, and Pacthesis have heavily influenced my art style. (pacthesis made a series of free dating sims on deviant art). I've always considered my art style to be pretty shoujo manga, but lately some of my pieces have been labeled too western for weeb spaces.

What advise can you give the next person who wants to draw art and share it with the world?

Coffee: i give the same advice to everyone i meet that says theyre thinking of making art in any form, and i mean it from the bottom of my heart: DO IT! im so in love with art of all kinds and the process of creating it, and i think that getting into any creative hobby is nothing but a good thing and i deeply believe that everyone should do it. whether you wanna draw, write, make music, develop games, sculpt, knit, etc, do it! quality doesnt matter at all, you can make the most technically awful thing in the world but as long as you enjoyed the process of creating it then it still has value. dont be nervous about your art being good enough. if you dont want to share it then you arent obligated to! i dont share like 90% of the stuff that i make but i still create art almost every single day! recently my qpp (queerplatonic partner) has gotten into drawing and im SO happy for them. they primarily use mspaint and a mouse to draw and their art is SO adorable and i love it so much, and im not just saying that because i love them. it doesnt matter what skill level you start at or what tools you have, you can always start making art. and dont compare the art that you make to others art, which i know from experience is a VERY easy trap to fall into. i dont have as much to say about that point because im not as passionate about it but uhhh yeah :3

Myne: Social media algorithms are not going to make you happy; no matter how well you play the game and low engagement does not mean you're a bad artist. If you keep posting and talking to other artists, you'll find your audience.

So at wonder con where we met ylu were cosplaying power from chainsaw man with a group of girls who were cosplaying other chainsaw characters. Do you girls normally group up and cosplay and if so how did you get into it?

Myne:  I was born into cosplay. My parents were gamers and cosplayers, and I started picking my own characters to cosplay when I was 14. I started getting more into it in college when I could find other people to cosplay with, it wasn't until this year I started aiming for photoshoots. I tend to be in at least one large group cosplay a con, and bring a different costume every day.

What was your favorite cosplay you've done?

Myne: It's a toss up between Persona 5 Joker and Alluring Secret Rin. Those were the ones I put the most work in that still hold up. Though I'm currently working on Eris from the Grim Adventures of Billy and Mandy, and that may overtake them.

Have you ever thought to cosplay someone from Warrior U?

Myne:  I do actually! I've cosplayed as the main character Finn a few times. I really like taking simplified designs from comics/cartoons and turning them into heavily detailed looks. '

Where do you see warrior u being in 5 years from now?

Coffee: man, honestly if were STILL working on this project 5 years from now that would be CRAZY. this is already the longest ive worked on a single project before, along with being the most ive ever gotten DONE for a project, so thinking about what it could be like in 5 years is like. WOW. by that point we would have archived most (if not ALL) of the older stuff we could find, so our blog would probably just be new pages and fan interaction if were still going! the dream is still for a full fandom revival, and weve already got a small active fanbase (of like 5 people but still) so who knows, maybe that dream will be a reality?

Myne: We have at least 3 years worth of story drafted and lined up, and even more outlined. So ideally still updating. By then, we'll have some physical releases of the finished arcs that we've written available for purchase online and at select events. The creator has said she has no interest in making physical releases of the original run. I'd love for that to change, but I respect her decision and I won't press the matter. I'm just grateful we have permission to sell anything we make using her characters. 

If you could go back in time 5 years, what advice would you give yourself?

Coffee: 15 and 16 were ROUGH ages for me tbh. i wont get into it because its super personal, but i was struggling with a lot and just generally not having a very good time. i think the best advice i could give to myself would just be that like. things will eventually get better. no matter how dark or hopeless things may be, theres always a silver lining and a light at the end of the tunnel. now if 15 year old me would have taken that to heart is a whole DIFFERENT question, but thats what i would say. 16 was like right before i (finally) started getting treatment for my mental health, so i think considering everything thats what i would say.

Myne: So many bad things happened during those five years, but… I wish I knew what burnout felt like, so I could recognize it. I have this tendency to put my self worth into “how much have you done today”, so once I started working full time and my father passed,  I couldn’t recognize that I was physically and emotionally exhausted some days and needed rest, so I’d just punish myself mentally for not being more motivated. You shouldn’t need permission to rest, and I felt like I had to. It’s healthy to ‘nothing’ sometimes, especially if you’re dealing with things you have no control over.

Coffee: thank you for interviewing myne and i for your podcast :D!! its absolutely wild to think that ive done anything interview-worthy and yet here we are! for anyone thats interested in the comic because of this, i also emplore you to go check out the creators current comic "si3lah" (pronounced like si-ayn-lah i think? the 3 is a stand-in for an arabic letter) on gumroad! it deserves way more attention than it currently has and you should 100% go support the original creator if you like the stuff we do (wink wink).

#mod speak #interview #official

[crimsonfacets]

I've loved this guy for years now. I was first introduced to him through the anime while the manga itself was in the Luxury Liner arc, but I had no interest in following the manga at the time - I didn't have the readily available resources to even read it (or the attention span), so I was really just digging a retired old legend who spooked everyone and got drafted for Shinigami duty near the end of the anime. That became the version of him I was most endeared to. Imagine my shock when I found out he did The Thing (I found out about it on DA no less LOL) and went from being a kooky side character to the main antagonist.

My main verse for him DOES follow his role in the anime, but I run it concurrently with the manga. I do love the twist and I have some fun headcanons regarding it, but I just can't shake my love for the original I knew first. So when it comes to threads with him, just let me know if you'd prefer the manga one! I'm happily switching between either one.

#test muse: undertaker. #『 blog / ooc. 』 ❝ out of creation. ❞

[blissfulbqrnes]

counter you and jj get down n dirty on the counter in the chateau...

warnings smut, no mentions of protection, dirty talk, there's no plot just porn lol, mentions of john b, pope, kie, and sarah.

word count; ???

song rec close, nick jones + tove lo

note jj is aged up in this!! found this deep in my drafts...

     YOUR LIPS MET HIS in a steamy kiss, you walking backwards into the chateau careful not to trip over your own feet, after john b and sarah disappeared you both spent a lot of time together there counting down the few days before school began, eventually becoming a little more than friends, the other two couples other of the friend group were always out together, the amount of times jj contemplated on having sex in his best friend’s old bed was unhealthy. 

after gradation you both decided to stay in outer banks, it was spontaneous, sarah and john b to new york for sarah’s modeling, pope to college and kie to wherever she could record her music. leaving the two of you alone just like back in high school.

he pulled away from you tugging your bottom lip with him, before letting it snap back into place, he had somehow managed to get you into the kitchen and pressed against the cold marble. his hands that contained the rings he had owned for years played with the small white tank-top you wore, silently asking you if he could remove the article. instead of allowing jj to do so, you went ahead tossing the flimsy clothing to the side, not paying any attention to wherever the hell it landed. 

a breathy laugh passed your lips when he trailed kisses on the sensitive parts of your neck. “you want me to take you on the counter?” jj mumbled against your collar bone, before sucking a bruise, that would soon turn purple, there. your whimpers that consisted of 'yes's and 'please's gave him the answer to his question. the button of the jean shorts you were wearing was digging into your stomach due to how you were sitting, “wait, j,” you gripped his biceps and he pulled away quickly.

"you okay?" he asked breathlessly, his cheeks were red and wet with spit, he ran his fingers through his hair moving it so it wasn't obstructing his view of you. "mhm" was all you said unbuttoning your shorts, pulling down the zipper, and tugging them down your legs. you were left in the red pair of panties that jj had decided to pick out for you this morning, they were lacey and thin, the material was soaking with your wetness now.

jj gripped your hips and again going in for a heated kiss that at the end of neither of you would be clothed. his right hand trailed down to your inner thighs, sliding your underwear to the side and pushing his ring and middle fingers to slowly circle your clit. your head rolled back on your hands, pulling away from the kiss entirely, you arms that were holding you up were starting to tremble from the stimulation from jj's fingers alone.

you moved your hips in an attempt to get him to do a little more, "ah ah~ stay still or you won't come at all, doll" you nodded whining at how stern his voice sounded, he was in charge, and you both knew it. a smile spread across his face at how you whined when he pushed one of his thick fingers into you, pumping it agonizingly slow just to watch how hot you are when your face contorts in pleasure, how you gasped, or how you were always begging for more.

"j, baby, please just fuck me" you swallowed around your tongue after you moaned out the request, fearing he'd just walk away and leave you to tend to your own issues, but your fingers weren't nearly as good as his, "what'd i say? what if just-" he pulled away exactly how you wished he wouldn't. 

stepping away, looking at your body and the tears that welled up in your eyes, you looked pathetic, "are you crying? just for some dick?" he asked laughing after he finished the statement, a pout formed on your lips trying to slide off the counter grab him and pull him into you, but he walked back over to you gripping your chin, "patience, sweets." jj warned kissing your cheek, before pulling his shirt over his head

his body looked as if were crafted by the gods, like a perfect sculpture, the scars that ran along his torso from past fights with his father and no name kooks, those were what made him your jj, your hotheaded boyfriend, who in reality was most definitely more of a lover than a fighter. your eyes lingered longer than expected, "you're staring, toots" the way he spoke was taunting but never failed to make you weak in the knees and all your bones turn to jello. you laid back when he began to reach for your panties, to tug them off and toss them to be found after tonight's antics.

you lifted your hips allowing him more room, when they were removed he leaned down pressing kisses to your cleavage, your back arched when you unclasped your bra letting the straps fall down your shoulders. jj looked like a kid in a candy store, kissing and licked around your chest, pulling your nipples into his mouth with a small smile. you ran your hand through his blond locks gently and tugging on his hair just before it fell from between your fingers, your nails scratched at his scalp.

his mouth released your boob, his smile was bigger before, his pearly teeth on display this time, "just rail me will ya?" you sighed feigning disappointment, "yeah yeah 'just rail me will ya' " he mocked, his mood changed and it made you laugh, the same man was just threatening to leave you to get yourself off was now mocking you like a four-year-old. the khaki shorts he was swearing were unbuttoned and slipped down his hips, the sight of his deep his deep v-line nearly making you drool.  

your finger tucked into the elastic of his boxers, pulling him close to you once again, reaching down to palm his erection, before letting you get too carried away, jj gripped your wrist and pulled you by your waist off the counter, turning your body around so you were facing the counter and your boobs were pressing against the cold surface. you heard shuffling behind you before jj's warm hands met your hips once again. "you alright?" he asked, he never forgot to ask you if you're good, especially with things like this and you nodded.

#jj maybank #jj maybank smut #obx #jj maybank x kook!reader #jj mayback x reader #jj mayback imagine #bri writes

[essaysbyciara]

It’s Been A Long Time | Nebraska Williams x Black!PlusSize Reader [Part 1/?]

Warnings: language, smut thoughts (my ministry!)

So this has been in my drafts for a *HOT MINUTE* but that photo of Trevante in high school triggered a release. If people dig where it could be going, I will add it to my list of stuff to finish and open up a taglist. I’ll try my best to do so, I promise! lol

“God, I played this album out…” Lil’ Wayne’s seminal album, The Carter, didn’t age at all. Back in 2004, Wayne was a secret about to bubble over to superstardom, just years shy of lollipops and Static Major (rest in peace). Wayne represented the teenage angst of your time, even though you toiled in the suburbs while he wrestled with the streets. But as “On My Own” damn near explodes your factory speakers, a high pitch ping from your phone pauses your trip down memory lane. 

Message from Sheena: Let’s catch up before the babies wake up. 

You hit the call button on your dash once you stop at a red light. 

“Girl, hey. You on your way to work?”

“Ain’t I always, Shi Shi? Damn near almost overslept. Thought I missed my flight.” 

Sheena, or Shi Shi, is the epitome of a best-friend-forever. You two met in Ms. Grayson’s civics class, 11th grade. On the first day of school, you rolled into third period wearing a Scream Tour II t-shirt and if you were to describe Sheena in that moment, jealous wasn’t even the word.  She stanned hard for Lil’ Bow Wow but her mom wouldn’t let her go to the concert because she got caught with a boy in her room. That boy is now the husband half-way responsible for the twin girls she’s hoping will give her some grace by sleeping a little bit longer. 

“Damn. You wanna gift some of that sleep to these twins, God mommy?”

“Only if you gift me some of those post-pregnancy boobs, Mommy Dearest,”

“Can’t do that. Jarell been having too much fun with those!” 

“Girl, eww. I don’t need to know all that.”

You kinda did. Sheena’s stories were always live, wild and uncut. And the only fireworks you’ve been adjacent to in months since you broke up with that lame stockbroker, Keith. You curve around the airport parking lot as Sheena starts digging deep into her latest soft-core episode with her husband since the six weeks ain’t up yet. In between interjections of how nasty Jarrell could be and watching planes taxi in the distance, you cruise through Instagram to take inventory of what your day might be like. 

Managing social media for the biggest sports publication in the country was not the fulfillment of a dream after high school because, shit,  social media didn’t exist when you were in high school. But it’s what has you just hours away from a flight to the NFL Combine in Indianapolis, sitting in a parking lot, listening to your BFF’s slow burn sexcapades. You break up the audio immersion experience once your timeline displays something else to ruminate over.

“Sheena! Shi -- shut up! I can’t believe - you remember Lisa from high school? She got married ...and it ain’t to Brasco.” 

“Whaaaa… you can finally stop making u-turns in the hallway and snag your man!”

You didn’t appreciate the lowly dig from your friend about Nebraska “Brasco” Williams, star running back, track champion and boy so fine he made both Omarion and J-Boog look like ogres. Your high school crush had you shook to your pubescent core; pretty teeth, deep skin tone and two tattoos before the age of eighteen. You’d see him in the student parking lot with the rest of the football team and you’d rush to your car as if it would go home without you. He was too hot to handle. You were beyond envious that Lisa could. 

“Lisa ain’t do too bad. Her man is crazy fine. I mean, not Brasco fine but still…” 

“Man,  he had high school going crazy. I wonder what happened to him after that fight? I should stalk him on Facebook while I pump.” You laugh so hard, the couple walking past your car stops their argument to stare at you. 

Your laughs break once you realize you might actually miss that flight. You relegate Shi Shi to kiss the twins for you and to send his Facebook profile if she can actually find it. You tried years ago and failed. 

“Aight, fave. I will.  Love you. Text me when you touch down in Indy.” 

As you weave through the terminal, your mind thinks back to the days at New Birth High School. While it brought you joy in a forever friend and the launching point for your forever career in sports journalism, it did bring you one of the most hurtful days of your life that took years to shake. 

It was the summer going into your senior year. Lisa’s sweet sixteen pool party. No way in Hell you thought you’d be there but your Mom and Lisa’s stepmom sat on the same deacon board at church and somehow thought you two were friends; Lisa paid you dust in those hallways. You fretted over every part of your outfit, especially the swim shoes you didn’t want but your Dad picked up at Sports Authority. But you were fretting the most over your swimsuit, a red one-piece with a deep open back. It was sexy for a 16-year-old, to be honest, but you secretly tried it on at the mall and fell in love with it -- especially how it made you feel. 

You fell in deep love with your body that day. The way the swimsuit clenched your waist, giving your almost-pear shape some definition you’d never seen before. Your hips sat wide, your breast placed taunt, just peeking through the sides, showing off a crescent shaped birthmark right below your collarbone. It was Jet Beauty of the Week-esque and it made you feel on top of the world. Something that society kept telling you a plus-size teenage girl was not to feel. You used the last of your paper route money to buy it and hid your secret weapon in the back of your closet until the day arrived. You were hoping to get some boy’s attention -- especially Brasco. But you’d take anybody’s glare if you could get it. 

You were in the clear once your Mom dropped you and Sheena both off at Lisa’s back gate. As you walked into the party, the sounds of the local hip-hop and R&B radio station blasted throughout her huge backyard. So much fun was had -- so much splash and dash -- that the faint sounds of “Knuck If You Buck” failed to erupt a party full of teenagers it was made for. The pool seemed tempting in 90-plus heat but most of the temptation came from the jacuzzi next to it. There inside sat Brasco, his lanky on-field wide receiver sidekick Kenny and Jarell, Sheena’s partner-in-bedroom-bust crime looking delicious in their highlighter-color swim trunks. You were still figuring out your body and the reactions conjured up from the sight of water droplets chasing down their backs confused you even more. But the heat of the sun -- and the heat from your body -- got too much to bear. That pool called your name. 

You stripped off your t-shirt and denim shorts, leaving your swim shoes back by the picnic table. They clashed. Your nerves splashed together like the water you couldn’t wait to feel, battering against your heart. Were you ready for all this attention? Amongst the rest of the classmates, you disappeared. You weren’t popular. People knew of you but didn’t know you, only associating you with Sheena by proxy of Jarell. “My Goodies” came on the radio, providing you a soundtrack and a sign from God. Before you could answer the call, Sheena jumped into the pool. You tossed your glasses on top of your clothes and did the same. 

The water felt golden. Sheena smacked your face with sheets of chlorinated goodness. Too much fun was had by all, even Lisa joined in the fun. Suddenly the entire football team did too except Brasco and Jarell, languishing on the edge of the jacuzzi because like most boys from their side of town, they didn’t know how to swim. Lisa saw her boo in isolation and tapped Sheena on the shoulder. 

“Hey, Shi Shi. Let’s get in the jacuzzi.” Sheena grabbed your hand to guide you out of the pool. You weren’t expecting to see your Mom at the other end. Sheena didn’t grab you to join her in the warm bubbles, she got you out at the angry-faced-behest of your mother. You both were going home. The party silenced and stares followed as everyone watched your walk-of-shame to grab your clothes. You got what you wanted in the worst way possible. 

Your unholy exodus commenced when Lisa’s mom called yours to report what she saw: this red bathing suit too revealing for a little girl to wear. It wasn’t the green ruffled mess-of-a-bathing-suit from last year. She claimed to witness stares and whispers and “boobs hanging out, butt all out.” Your mom got over there quicker than a church shout. She waited to scold you after she dropped off Sheena. 

It was a Sunday School scolding like no other. Tears pooled deep like the one you were just having fun in. You tossed the bathing suit into the trash bin. You were never going to see it again. 

The announcement of your flight breaks you out of your day nightmare. Grabbing the handle on your suitcase, you see a text with an attachment from Sheena. 

Girllllllllllll. I found Brasco and babyyyyyyyyyyy… 

You gasp. Time did a wonder on him in all the right ways. He packed on even more muscle, chiseling out the navy thermal dressing his upper body. Teeth still bright, Moonlight-bright. His Omarion-Pandemonium-era braids were gone, now donning a clean fade with perfect waves. His stance meant business, a lot of it risky. You bite your lower lip to mask the “damn!” urging a release from you, staring at his picture so intensely that you damn near walk into the stewardess checking your boarding pass. 

You couldn’t wait to get to your first-class seat. You needed a safe space to drown in your own splash waterfalls. You beg Sheena to send you his profile, looking to make some more of that mess and she obliges. Scrolling through his Facebook, you see nothing. You needed him to match your uncleanliness. Another text from Sheena breaks you out of your spell. 

Ain’t shit on here though. I can’t find an Instagram or anything. That’s where the dirt is at lol 

You put your social media skills to work. Ain’t an Instagram profile that you can’t find. Nebraska Williams brings up nothing. Such a unique name and nothing to show for it. 

Maybe Jarell can follow him, Shi. 

Jarell ain’t on this thing. He hates all this stuff. You want me to follow him? 

Girl, yes! I need more pictures! I’m trying to find his ‘gram and no diceeeeeee. Ughhhh. 

Damn the “no cell phone until after lift off” announcement. You then try “Brasco”, too many names -- rappers, really--  and a dog company to boot. “Brasco Williams” yields no results. You couldn’t wait what could be hours, days,  weeks, maybe never, for a response from Brasco to Sheena’s friend request. 

You pull up Google as a last ditch effort. The results bring up what only seems to be archives from your now-defunct city newspaper covering one of Nebraska’s record-setting games from 2005. You know to quit while you’re ahead until you see a Youtube video: “Nebraska Williams (RB) New Birth High School (MD). uploaded by Donyell Williams. You remember Donyell as this boy who played too damn much in Geometry class but right now, he’s Brasco’s cousin who's Instagram profile came up on the first search. Thank God his profile wasn’t private. You scroll back far enough to hit the jackpot. 

I found it! @donniebrascowill is his Instagram. 

Sheena was right about the dirt. His posts were bare but his stories carried enough. Enough shirtless, weightlifting, fresh-out-the-barbershop-got-to-show-you-the-fade dirt. You hit the follow button before the stewardess asked for your drink selection. 

End of Part I

#trevante rhodes x reader #trevante rhodes x fanfiction #nebraska williams

[becomingbts]

Would You Like to Order a Sip of Happiness?

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Type: angst, fluff but without any real romance

Warning(s): mention of (natural) death, grief, and depression.

Genre: Fantasy, university au!

Summary: It had been a rumor, a fairy tale, an old story… Until Jimin had no other choice but to believe it.

5.5k words

Note: OKAY HERE WE GO I HAD THIS IN MY DRAFT FOR LIKE, FOREVER. I’m so happy I’m done with it!! I’m pretty satisfied I think, so I hope you’ll like it! Take care everyone, please, feedback is always warmly welcomed! I try to answer everyone uwu Take care, lots of love!!!! Dolly (who is going to sleep now lol)

It had been a rumor.

A groundless rumor said that there was a weird coffee shop in town. It had been there for ages, apparently. The rumors said that people found out about where the shop was only when they truly needed it; they said it was an unconscious process made by their brains, feet guiding them by themselves to the said coffee shop without leaving any memory about the right path to go back once they left. Thus, no one knew where it was. The few people who had found the coffee shop were left unable to find their way back to the place as if a spell was preventing them from finding the shop again. This unexplainable phenomenon made people dubious and for those who dared to say that the shop existed, that they had seen it by themselves, rare were those who listened to them without laughing at them. Nobody actually believed them. And if this whole thing of not being able to find the shop again was already sketchy, the rest of their stories usually made it even less credible. Rumors said that this coffee shop offered to serve memories; 'a journey into your soul, into life and discoveries'. It sounded like a fairy tale coming straight from a book, if not a complete made-up lie. It had been said that one slice of cake from the shop was enough for people to travel to unknown landscapes and that a sip of tea was able to recreate the happiest memory of someone.

Jimin had heard of those rumors too. He had even met one person who had declared to have been in the coffee shop by themselves and thus knew that it existed.

It had been his grandmother. She was not there anymore to narrate the complex story, but she used to tell Jimin that it did really exist. When he was a kid, he was fascinated by the story. From what his grandmother had told him and what he had gathered, it could mean only one thing: the coffee shop was magic. His grandmother had explained to him that a nice lady had asked her if she had wanted anything that was on the menu.

"Even though I thought that all the names were ridiculous, I couldn't help but be curious. The menu had many things like 'a sip of happiness' or a 'chamomile of joy'. I thought I was in a dream. I had never seen that shop before, and it felt like it had appeared out of nowhere. However, everything seemed very old inside, as if the café had been around for years. The chairs were crackling, the parquet seemed old too, and even the menu looked kind of historic! It felt like the shop had always been there." She had remembered happily with a hint of nostalgia.

"What did you order then, Ma?" Jimin had asked curiously.

"Ah, I ordered a 'latte of memories' and a slice of 'cakescape'. If you ever find the shop, you should order one slice of that cake too. I know you'll love it!" His grandmother had always worn that warm smile on her features. She used to smile a bit brighter when she talked about her encounter with the shop.

"Was it tasty?"

"It was the best thing I ever had. But it wasn't the most surprising part of the story. When I closed my eyes, I could hear and smell different things, as if I had gone out of the coffee shop and was somewhere else. It was confusing at first, especially when I noticed that the smells and the atmosphere felt familiar. It was hard to remember where I knew those scents and noises from, but after a few seconds, I realized it was just like my sister's home. It used to be my favorite place in the world; smelling like cinnamon and bread. I could hear her dog barking somewhere and her voice was so, so clear in my head as if she was actually there with me. I knew it was impossible because my sister had passed away a few months before. But I could hear her singing lightly, giggling happily as she was baking. It was almost as if everything that had gone wrong with my sister's death had never happened. But once I opened my eyes again, I was back in the coffee shop. The smell had changed again, and I could not hear my sister anymore,” the old woman’s expression had soured a bit before she had continued, “I cried a lot that day; all the pain left from my sister's death had come to my mind again, and it felt like I was finally grieving like I had wished to have the time for. I remember the owner giving me a hug and asking me if I felt better. I don't exactly remember what happened afterward, but all I remember is being out of the coffee shop and just feeling so relieved and relaxed. I never found the shop again. I tried, trust me, I redid almost all streets I had gone through that day. But I never found the coffee shop again."

"What was the name of the shop, Ma'?"

"Serendipity."

Jimin used to think that it was amazing, especially when he was a kid. Yet, he now knew that it had been a silly story that his grandmother had invented to make him dream. He had been feeling a little bit betrayed at first, but he knew better than to hold a ridiculous grudge against his dear grandmother who had just wanted to offer him a nice story to remember.

However, to his surprise, when he entered university, he heard the familiar story again. He realized that the university rumor—that he soon learned to be famous here—was awfully close to the story of his grandma, and it had bothered him at first. Maybe it had just been a popular story that his grandmother had learned about, after all? It had taken him aback, not ready to hear the story again after years of not hearing it, and especially not from someone else and with different details. He had definitely not thought that anyone would know this story; he had always believed his grandmother had made it up, so to learn that it was a popular rumor on his campus? That had unquestionably been unexpected for him. And as much as he had tried to convince himself that it probably wasn't the same story, that it just had been hazard playing with his head, Jimin came to the conclusion that it truly was the exact same one. There were too many similarities for it to be a coincidence. The story almost felt like some kind of folklore story that ran into the corridors for years without any answer for the people who were questioning the shop's existence. People either dismissed the story or some were fully engrossed in it; a club had even been created in the university in order to search for the said coffee shop.

Jimin wasn't too big on looking for the shop nor did he fully disregard the rumor, yet he had mixed feelings when it came to it. Maybe he had wished for this rumor to be less popular since his grandmother had passed away. His feelings had been locked away, tears hidden while he had not been allowed to take his time to grief; the university had still been ongoing and he had still needed to pass his semester. Jimin's family had refused for him to miss classes, and he had been sent back to Seoul without getting proper time to swallow his loss. It came to a point where Jimin just wanted to yell at every single person speaking about it because it just reminded him of his grandmother. It felt unfair.

Why did he have to go through that? University had barely begun, it was his first semester there and if the familiar story had brought him comfort the first few weeks, it brought him face to face with his worst fears now that he was left alone. The story no longer reminded him of a happy time, but rather of his loss that he was never granted time to cope with. Jimin couldn't help the tears that sometimes threatened to escape from his lashes, but he held on tight, mood souring as midterms came closer and so did his despair. Overwhelmed by sorrow, motivation felt like something he'd never be able to muster again. Getting up started being difficult, eating became a bother, washing up a burden, so learning was at the bottom of Jimin's priority list. Shaking himself up seemed impossible and while he didn't want to admit it to himself, Jimin came to terms with the fact that he wasn't alright, but he'd find a way to feel better eventually.

Not that this admission mentally helped, but at least, it would be a step toward his recovery (hopefully).

In the middle of the stress and growing tension that was palpable in the corridors of the university, Jimin had become detached from this little world. The anxiety of his friends was—to him—incomprehensible, and Jimin's passivity was frustrating for his close friends. They all tried to make him talk, to understand why he was falling into this deep hole he had started digging for himself. None of them could recognize him, it was as if he had been stripped out of his happiness and of the life that was glistening in his eyes and while they wanted to help, they also had their exams to worry about. None of them wanted Jimin to feel like their work was more important than his well-being, but at some point, none of them knew how to help him without feeling like they were losing him for an unknown reason. One of his closest friends, Namjoon, had even begged Jimin to talk, took him on several walks with him, brought him to their favorite coffee shop, to the library... Anywhere outside the university, since it seemed to be the place that was numbing him. He couldn't understand why, but the campus always seemed to push Jimin to his worst mood, so they all avoided bringing him there if not necessary. It had been a silent agreement between themselves, and Jimin had been honestly grateful for them to catch this little detail.

Yet, Namjoon's effort did not change Jimin's behavior. He never talked, never shared his feelings, never gave a sign of opening up. At least, he did smile a bit when they took a walk together, so Namjoon kept on going with him every single day in order to try and get him out of his bad thoughts. Maybe they couldn't help solve his problem, but if they could alleviate the pain, it would still be something they would gladly do.

It was during one of those walks that Jimin saw a small cat and got distracted until he actually lost Namjoon. Frowning to himself, Jimin had tried calling his friend, but to no avail. It was already quite late; looking for one another would just make them lose time. Leaving a voicemail to tell him not to worry and to just go home, Jimin activated his navigation app and walked in the direction of his home until he came to a dead end. Cursing against the app under his breath, Jimin turned around and noticed that the cat he had previously been distracted by was now sitting in front of an illuminated door, much to Jimin's surprise.

Had the cat followed him? But why did it seem like it was actually waiting for him? Curiosity getting the best of him, Jimin got closer to the cat that was observing him and he faced the shop, gawking.

The Serendipity.

Frozen as if time had stopped; snow could have been falling, Jimin wouldn't have noticed. He was staring at the shop, incredulity written all over his features while he tried to swallow the lump that had started to form in his throat. He couldn't talk, only a dry laugh escaped him as tears started rolling on his cheeks.

So that was it? He would never find peace, would he? He was doomed to eternally miss this old woman that had brought so much comfort to him in his teens. He had not been able to see her nearly as often as he wished he had, but she still had meant so much to him; why was destiny so cruel to take her away so quickly? Shaking himself up, he wiped his tears away as he grew angry.

Why did this fucking shop have to appear now after years of thinking that it was a mere invention of his grandmother? Why did it have to remind him of the person he lost?

Jimin almost wanted to run away, turn around and never look back. He didn't have to enter after all.

However, he felt a pull toward the shop as if he subconsciously knew that he had to get inside and see what he would find. Jimin clicked his tongue, annoyed at his own curiosity. He wished he could honestly say that he just wanted to go home and fall asleep under his heavy blanket, but he knew better than to lie to himself. He had done that enough already.

The shop was calling for him and he physically needed to know what he would find. Even if his heart ached at the simple thought of his grandmother, he needed to know.

After all these years of wondering, he could have his answer. So when he heard the chime sound as he pushed the door open, Jimin let the warmth of the café engulf him, drying his wet cheeks while the feeling of warmth made his heart tighten. He couldn't help but think that disappointment was probably the only thing that he would be met with. Jimin wasn't as gullible as people thought him to be. He might have wanted to believe in fairy tales, but he knew better than to actually think it existed for real. Jimin knew that he would probably drink a cup of tea that wouldn't be out of the ordinary and neither would the cake be magical. He sighed heavily, almost ready to turn around and berate himself for his moment of delusion, yet before he could, the cat planted itself in front of the door and mewed loudly as if trying to warn him not to leave. Blinking a few times, Jimin crouched in front of the cat, tilting his head in a confused manner.

"What are you up to bud? You're cute, but I need to get home-"

"I see you met with Ji, welcome Jimin-shi, we've been expecting you for a while," Jimin's head shot up as he heard the voice of a woman coming from behind him. Turning around quickly, he was met with blue eyes and a warm smile while he stared awkwardly.

"How... Do you know my name?" He quickly checked his jacket to verify that no name tag was hanging for the young woman to see but he grew even more uneasy as he saw none.

"Ji told me," she smiled as she pushed a chair close to the counter to the side as if inviting him to take a seat. If he had to be honest though, Jimin would admit that he would rather run away than accept the invitation of a stranger who seemed to know him while he had no recollection of any previous meeting. He would be less suspicious if he had had troubles with remembering faces or names. After all, she looked young enough to be around his age, maybe she saw him around campus? But her face truly didn't ring any bell and Jimin usually had a really good memory when it came to faces.

Even more reasons to feel suspicious.

"Ji?" He asked cautiously.

"Yeah, Ji. The cat," the cat mewed before jumping on the counter and the young woman rolled her eyes, "I know, you're not a cat, you're a witch, blablabla, I know the song. Please, don't stress our guest more than he already is, he looks like he is about to run away any second!" She giggled as the cat mewed again; the young woman turned to Jimin again, smiling at him with caring eyes. He didn't know if he should be worried or soothed by her gaze; he felt like he should feel uncomfortable, yet, as strange as it sounded, he didn't feel ill at ease, "please, take a seat! What would you like to order?" Jimin wanted to politely refuse, tell her he needed to go and hide under the sheets of his bed after a warm shower. However, for some reason, Jimin's body chose to compel to her voice and not to his brain and he simply sat at the counter while struggling to find his words. Looking at the woman with terrified eyes, he noticed her name on her apron.

Serendipity's (Y/N).

The name did not ring any bell either. Why did she seem to know him then?

"Here, the menu. You can order what fits your heart." He shouldn't. He knew better than anyone else that he should leave, run away and never look back. This was starting to freak him out, yet his eyes merely listened to his brain as he started reading the menu.

Jimin's breath hitched; he definitely shouldn't have read it. He should have left the café when he had the opportunity to do so because Jimin felt nauseous as his eyes landed on "the latte of memories" and the slice of "cakescape". Jimin forgot how to breathe for a second as the vivid memories of his grandmother came back flooding his mind. It couldn't be a coincidence, could it now? He could still remember how his grandmother had advised him to order the latte of memories and the cakescape the day he would find the café. Her words were ringing in his head, loud enough for his head to spin ever so slightly. He couldn't make out the other words written on the menu as if these two words were the only thing he could properly read. Shaking his head for a second, he rubbed his eyes painfully before they landed on the menu again. 

Without any change. 

Jimin's still couldn't read anything else, the whole menu was blurry as if he had been crying. Would he be ridiculous for actually crying because he suddenly couldn't read anymore? Probably. He needed to get a grip on himself. Jimin couldn't let his feelings overwhelm him like that; he was in an unknown—and potentially dangerous—place, he had to focus so that he could leave. He wasn't stupid; he knew that he was not in the right state of mind to be alone in the streets at such a late hour, but he also needed to get out quickly. He couldn't stay here where he could feel himself already spiraling.

"Have you chosen anything?" His head snapped in the direction of the young woman, (Y/N), as her voice woke him up from his trance. Her eyes glistened almost with mischief and he wondered what it was about her that felt so ethereal.

"I-" Struggling to find his words, the lump that was stuck in his throat made itself known again and Jimin coughed a few times as he tried to voice his thoughts. He mentally cursed, what was it today with his voice not coming out when he desperately need to put his distress into words? His despair must have been clear on his face, features contorting in pain, because (Y/N) disappeared for a few seconds before coming back with a glass of water. Jimin's eyed it nervously, watching her curiously as she took the seat next to him. 

"You can drink it, it's just water, we don't charge for water, don't worry," she smiled soothingly but he didn't dare to try to tell her that money was not really his first concern. Though, the water looked clear and when he brought his nose to the glass, it didn't smell anything weird. It seemed to be plain water, which put Jimin a bit more at ease than he previously was. Drinking hastily, Jimin didn't dare meeting (Y/N)'s cheeky smile and smiling eyes. He didn't want to see the triumphant features on the woman's face. Feeling her gaze on him as he put his glass back on the counter, he glanced hesitantly in her direction. He noticed the cat (the witch?) jumping on the counter too as if curious about the Newcomer. Ji seemed to study him until it could be certain that he was harmless. 

Weird, he thought. If anyone should be suspicious of the place and of someone, it should definitely be him, not the cat. It had felt like the cat had led him there and even expected him, if Jimin were to be honest. Yet suddenly, it felt as if the danger could be him as if his presence had disrupted the tranquility of their safe bubble. Jimin's feelings of uncertainty and uneasiness seemed to vanish slowly as he watched the cat's tail wrapping around his wrist gently. Internally giggling, Jimin stretched out his hand, letting the cat sniff his hand before deeming him worthy enough to let him run his hand through its fur. Tilting his head in curiosity, Jimin watched the cat jumping out, going back to its original spot. 

"So, should I get you anything?" Meeting her eyes in confusion, Jimin got reminded where he was and what he was doing. Blinking slowly, he wondered if he should get something as his grandmother had recommended him to, or if he should simply get up and leave to find his way back home. Yet, despite his chaotic thoughts and prior fright, his answer came out almost naturally.

"A slice of cakescape with a latte of memories, please," he watched as her smile grow while she nodded before disappearing, leaving him wondering what the hell he was doing. 

Jimin should have left a while ago. He had to get home quickly so that he wouldn't be too tired tomorrow. He had a lot of classes; it wasn't the time to fool around. He should be freaking out about finding the Café of the rumors and reading the exact same order like the one that his grandmother had recommended to him when she narrated the story when he was younger. 

Nothing made sense and yet...

And yet, Jimin felt like he belonged here for a while. The cat had somehow trusted him enough to let him pet his head, (Y/N) seemed like a normal person (oh well, maybe not normal, but normal enough)... He didn't feel nearly as panicked as he probably should and he didn't know if it freaking him out or if he was eased by his sudden feeling of safety. Maybe he had been bewitched. After all, (Y/N) did say that the cat was a witch... 

Jimin chuckled at himself. He really needed to stop believing in children's stories. He was an adult now, he should know better. 

Yet, if he had not believed his grandmother's story before, he was now met with the fact that she had probably told him the truth. Maybe not the part of the crazy story about her being brought back to the house of her deceased sister, but the café truly existed. 

His confused trail of thoughts got interrupted as he saw a plate with a slice of cake and a mug dropped in front of him on the counter. The young woman smiled at him before organizing her desk. Watching her for a quick second, Jimin wondered if he should ask anything. Why was the café so Well hidden? Did she know about the University club created to search for the shop? Did she know about the fame of the café? Yet before he could ask any of the questions that had been burning his tongue, she had turned around and had already disappeared in what Jimin expected to be the kitchen. Only him and Ji were left in the room and even if Jimin tried to ignore the fixed glare he felt behind him, he sighed, turning around to face the cat that was indeed staring at him. 

"What?" Jimin asked, thinking about how ridiculous he must have been looking to talk to a cat. He obviously did not get any answer. Rolling his eyes playfully, Jimin gawked at his order in wonder. What should he start with? 

Eating. You always eat before you drink. 

Digging into the cake, Jimin closed his eyes at the taste in amazement. Fuck, it was really good. It would have been dumb not to order anything. 

Always trust Grandma. 

Sipping in his latte, Jimin ate his slice too quickly for his liking (had his discovery been during the afternoon, he would have probably ordered a second one, but the late hour did not really leave him with that choice), yet he felt a bit dizzy. Rubbing his fingers on his temple, he squinted for a second before feeling like the ground was moving under his feet. Hands harshly gripping at the counter to try to remain firmly seated, dizziness fully overwhelmed his body until it finally stopped. 

Panting uneasily, Jimin tries to catch his breath and to soothe down his panic, however, it only grew greater as he realized that he was unable to open his eyes. Trying to force them open, nothing worked. Jimin's eyes remained firmly closed against his own will. He gritted his teeth in frustration while trying to breathe deeply to avoid any panic attack. He needed to remain calm and to have a hold on his feelings. Getting overwhelmed was not a possibility. 

God, Jimin had known he should have run away the moment he had entered the shop. What had suddenly gotten him so pliant? So happy to stay? He had no idea and it was frustrating him to no end. Yet, Jimin froze as he heard a familiar tune. Catching a painful breath, Jimin tried to focus on what he heard rather than on the building anxiety that was eating him alive. Mind overwhelmed with racing thoughts, Jimin couldn't believe what he was hearing. 

This melody; he knew only one person who could sing it and this person left him a while ago. It wasn't possible, where the fuck was he and who was trying to torture him in such a cruel way? Had it not been enough to take his grandmother away from him? Now they had to make him believe that she was still there? It wasn't a good joke; that wasn't funny at all. Had he ever told anyone about his grandmother's story? Jimin didn't think so, but it felt like someone was playing with him as if trying to make him believe that the story of his grandmother had fully been true and that he was brought back to the one person he loved unconditionally but had been taken away from him. Yet, it was impossible! What the hell was he thinking about? He couldn't seriously start thinking that it was true, right? His grandmother couldn't have possibly told him the truth when she told him that she had been brought back to her sister's home, could she? 

"Jimin-ah!" No, it wasn't possible. This voice couldn't be here now. She couldn't be... There. "Jimin-ah, my boy! You're still so handsome, what a man!" Was there a way for it to stop? He couldn't do it, he would crumble under the pain if he let himself believe that it was true. It had to stop. "Oh no, my love, my baby. Don't cry, Jiminie. I'm so proud of you, you've been doing so well! You entered University just like you wished! I'm happy for you, I truly am." Jimin had not even realized that he had started crying, his tears had just naturally rolled on his cheeks. Feeling a warm hand whipping them away, Jimin couldn't help but burst into tears in the arm of the old woman that was seemingly in front of him. She caught him easily, gently rubbing his back as he cried, pained by his inability to see. He still couldn't open his eyes and it was killing him. What would he give to see his grandmother again?

"You've been strong, Jiminie. So strong-" he had never felt strong ever since she left; he had only felt the weight of despair hold him back. 

"I miss you," he didn't even think that his voice would collaborate, but it surprisingly did. 

"I'm always with you, bub, you're never alone."

"But I miss you," he repeated himself like a mantra, he hoped that maybe saying it, again and again, would make her take the decision to stay, to remain by his side. He would quit University to take care of her if he needed to, he'd do anything. 

"I know you do, but you have to live on, Jiminie. You have so much to do, so many friends who care. Try to see what you still have, not what is not physically here anymore. My love for you will always remain close to you. I'm watching over you Jimin-ah, don't forget, okay?" He nodded painfully against her, feeling like a child all over again. 

"You'll be fine without me Jimin-ah, trust yourself more! You're a capable young man, you'll do great!" He heard her giggle almost lightly and it made him smile between his tears. 

Yet as her hands stopped rubbing his back, he suddenly opened his eyes and took in his surroundings. (Y/N) was watching him with a sad smile and his cheeks were still wet. 

He was back to reality as his dream crashed into billion pieces of broken glass, leaving him in a vulnerable state as he had never been before.

Jimin was much too honest with his feelings to hide his trembling lips and the tears that already threatened to escape his lashes and even if he hates himself for being in such a vulnerable state in front of a stranger, the young woman didn't hesitate for a second before hugging him tightly as he cried his despair and pain. It took him a few minutes to finally regain his composure and even he apologized for ruining her shirt (his tears had stained the thin white cotton), she had brushed him off with a smile, preparing a warm tea for him to take on his way to home. Confused yet grateful for her gentle gesture, his words were again lost in his throat and as he was almost ushered out by Ji, (Y/N) followed him to the door. It was such a weird headspace. Everything seemed to happen as a movie, Jimin didn't feel like he had any say or power over what was happening. His feet carried him outside while (Y/N) waved him warmly from the door. He had already started walking away when he suddenly remembered something. Jolting awake, he turned around quickly to find the young woman still at the door, looking at him bewildered. 

"Will I see you again?" He asked, hopeful. 

She smiled gently, yet it didn't feel like it was nearly as warm as a few minutes ago when she held him tightly.

"We'll see each other when you need me against Jimin-ssi." Waving one last time before she got back inside the café, Jimin was left alone to wonder. She still had not given a proper answer as to how she knew his name. Or did Ji, the cat—witch—really tell her? He didn't remember telling her or knowing her from somewhere, but maybe he did? Running back to the café to ask her, Jimin was met with grey doors; nothing that looked like the shop that he had previously visited. 

What ... The hell? 

Where the hell was the café? Looking around, Jimin noticed that the street had considerably dimmed as the main source of light had been the decoration of the shop.  Had he just... Dreamed or had the shop truly disappeared? 

Recalling (Y/N)'s almost sad smile, he wondered if it was the reason behind the sourness of her features and her last words. 

They'll see each other again when he'll need her? He hoped this time would come soon then because he had a lot of questions. He felt much lighter now that he had had a shoulder to cry, though.

But when he said a lot, he meant enough to make a list that he would actually write on a sheet of paper and hide in his wallet. He would get his moment to ask them, he somehow just knew he would.

#bts #bts fanfiction #magicshopnet #author: dolly #verse: university #verse: fantasy #jimin #park jimin #park jimin x reader #BTS jimin #jimin x you #jimin x oc #jimin x reader #park jimin x you #not really romantic #comfort #jimin angst #angst #fluff #jimin fluff #jimin comfort #bts angst #bts fluff #y/n is a witch

[strangerays]

Nothing in Particular Update #3

About seven months and I finished the first draft at 93k!

I always imagined how it would feel to finish a first draft (I’ve been writing novels “seriously” since about 2017) and now that I’ve finally done it, I can say it’s a better feeling than I imagined! Telling my friends and family (and even my doctor, who was really quite excited about it) was an amazing amazing thing. I’m generally pretty nervous to tell people about my work, but I had a really positive reaction. Honestly all of it has me on a creative high (not sure I’m coming down from that any time soon lol).

I’m going back for my last year of school in two days, which means I’m not going to have as much time as I did to write all summer. This is okay, because I’m actually going to take an entire month off of writing! I’m really burnt out - don’t want to start editing a story that’s so near to me if I don’t feel ready. I’ll talk more about editing when the time comes!

In a lot of ways, I found that my life mimicked my art. I think for a lot of people, it tends to be the other way around, but this story did a lot to heal me.

Going to hop right into excerpts now! I’m not going to explain much this far into the story because I would like to try to publish this story (FAR in the future) so I apologize for that! Also, I stopped naming most of the chapters until I go back and edit because there are just SO MANY and I didn’t have the time to stop and think of cool names. Anyways... enjoy!!

(Here is the link to the original masterpost!)

#1

text: Rays of gold curled to the ground, primordial and shy as the fire reeds on the cusps of shallow pool around the bay outside of Mothouse combed them to fine sparkles. I remembered the way Lonan kneeled on the edges of this pool. He never dove in – just blinked slowly as he watched crabs and minnows chase each other in a swirl of sand. I could not resist the water. I’d made it a part of me. My hair was longer then; down to my elbows, fading from dark red to orange and white, soaked always. Lonan let me borrow his shirts when I forgot to bring my own. They hung from my waist, too big for me, and I was warm even as the breeze rocked us inside.

#2

text: The sky was never blue in Point Blink. At least, I couldn’t remember the last time the clouds hadn’t given way to a dark gray mist. Jude was here. I was out of place. I was floating – watching slender, underfed pines wave in the breeze behind houses on the water before they disappeared underneath furls of cloud. Bursts of warm light shone in windows on the bay, like hungry eyes watching for a storm. A group of kids our age chaffed on a rocky expanse, their heads popping over pockets of darkness when they laughed. Froths of cloud stretched across the sky, moving the ground with it. Long stretches of trees and islands far on the other side of our small pocket of ocean looked more like large freight ships. Lights glittered and beamed on the roads and highways that belonged to the city. Pink was starting to show over the horizon. Lonan was on the other side. Somewhere.

#3

text: 

Jude sucked her lips in and flopped onto her stomach so she could see the blue below her feet. Her dark curls draped over her ears and hid her nose.

“I can’t see the bottom of the ocean.” She cupped her fingers with the other hand. “See where the water fades to white and back again? The endless tide. Why do people say the ocean is blue?”

I leaned forward. She was right. Blue ocean climbed up the side of the cliffs and turned the rocks a dark gray; ate the erosion as if from a plate. I’d never had the ocean explained to me that way before.

“I think I like it that way,” I said.

I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what was at the bottom of Point Blink.

#4

text: 

She smiled weakly. “It’s okay. This is just guesswork. Patchwork.”

I wanted to apologize again, but I had a strong guess that it might make her annoyed with me. “It’s kind of like… I’m just waiting for the next bad thing to happen.”

She wrinkled her nose and eyebrows, scrunched up her little face. “That’s dumb.”

“I think it’s a smart way to live.” Sometimes it felt like worry was the only thing that kept me alive. It wasn’t dumb at all.

“You’re going to be fine though. We’re going to be fine. If something bad happens, we’ll deal with it. Don’t let it eat you.”

There was wisdom in what this seventeen-year-old girl on my bed had offered me. I caught it like a gold coin. Before I could reply with anything, she launched into another question. I didn’t want to think much about change anyways.

#5

text:

“Oh. Wow. That’s like, next year.” I sort of laughed.

“A year can be a long time,” Lonan said with a wince. “What do you think?”          

I sighed through my nose and leaned back with him. The sun was going down. Sometimes, my life felt less like a golden hourglass and more like a stopwatch with a broken face.

“For once, I think I agree with your mom.”

Lonan just stared at me, with something like awe.

“I think you should do what you want,” I said.

 “Ray,” Lonan started.

“No,” I interrupted him. “It’s not about me. She’s stopped you from doing anything and everything you’ve wanted to for the last four years, so when you go to college, you’ve got to separate yourself from this place.” I pointed to him. “You’re allowed to do this.”

#6

text: 

Maybe I was just being strange. Lonan was my best friend. It didn’t help that there was a little bit of him in everything – the tide pools, the echo of shells, my broken camera.

Soon, we stood in the center of the field. A breeze whispered through the cattails, fanning against our knees. Ellis loped behind me as I stepped in and out of tire tracks under the cloudless sun. She wasn’t much different than Jude. Her footsteps crunched excitedly behind mine, excited at the prospect of an unprecedented adventure. I’d missed those.

Lonan said he didn’t like to walk in fields because the wind tricked him into thinking that someone was behind him. Every brisk of his heel was a trick of the mind. Sometimes I felt the same way, like I might be haunted.

#7

text: 

The ageless water begged me closer, frizzed my hair and swathed my arms in a sweet, familiar scent. I remembered galloping down to the shore with a childhood friend in one May. Soft piano accompanied croaky lyrics from someone’s radio when we fell chest-first into the water. Static erupted in my head. There had been nothing new for me in Point Blink for so long that I’d forgotten what it was like to float. Grass turned into pebbles, and I heard Ellis’ footsteps soften to the beat of the sand. Our eyes crumbled the shells that walled the long expanse of dark sand where waves rolled in. We leaned over like two swans, crunching shells beneath our feet, displaying shells to one another, naming the ones we recognized, and when I looked out at the horizon, I saw blue.

Red plastic cups, cigarettes, and even some broken glass stuck out through the sand as we made our way further down the shoreline, as if someone had thrown a party. My brow furrowed. Maybe this part of the beach wasn’t so abandoned after all.

Between the spit of the waves and dry sand lay some sort of book. Sand trickled out of the pages and onto my shoes when I swept it out of line of an oncoming wave. Ellis was beside me in moments. Shells tolled under her shoes.

#8

*Warning for mention of blood (fake blood and fake knife!!) this takes place on Halloween haha*

text: 

Jude held the container in her palm, kneeled down so we were shoulder to shoulder. Her eyes fixed on the knife in my neck, mine on her hands, then her focused expression. Her fingers tipped my chin up, cold on my skin. I tried not to move. Suddenly, I wasn’t thinking about Dad, or Raven, or Lonan. I only let Jude in – this girl who had come out of nowhere and wrecked me, saved me. And she didn’t know any of that. I didn’t owe anything to her, but I needed her. She kept us afloat when I couldn’t even keep myself above water. Her fingers painted blood over the center of my throat, our breath quiet on each other’s cheeks. She held my shoulder as she set back.               

“Absolutely feral,” she said.

#9

text: 

“Point Blink is all I have. It’s where I am, what I am.” My throat was tight. “It’s all I’ve known. I am happy with my life. And I’m sorry, but I’m not willing to throw all of that away so we can dig up answers. I want to stay.”

 Jude sat there for a moment. I think Florian and Ellis had turned to look at us, because when we went silent, I could no longer heat their hushed whispers, only the sound of water as it rose and rose and rose. I wondered if it would rain.

Jude sat up on her hands, then her knees, then she stood over me.

“Is that what you honestly believe?”

Tears bubbled in her eyes. Blood streaked down her cheeks. I’d been so focused on not crying, I had missed when she started to.

“Point Blink is just the same as anywhere,” she said. The words sat somewhere above her inside her chest, weak and frail, as though they’d been realized a long time ago.

I’d stared into her eyes until they disappeared. She grabbed onto a branch above her and quietly swung herself around a corner. Her footsteps echoed until they dissolved into waves and birds and frogs and left me in the dark.

#10

*Warning for strong language!*

text:

“Why didn’t you tell me how you’d been feeling?” he asked after a few moments of silence. It was beginning to stretch uncomfortably.

“I know I don’t deserve to know,” he added, “but you’ve always put me first.”

I picked at the wood that peeled from the fence.

“I just want you to be okay,” Lonan croaked. “Please tell me what to do.”

Even when we were together, we still worried about each other. It wasn’t always that way. Maybe that was my fault. I didn’t want to think about it.

 “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” I mumbled into the crisp, red air. “To be fair, I didn’t know it like I know now for a long time. I think sometimes I got the same way as a kid. Now I have a name for it, and I still don’t know if it feels right.” I sighed. “I guess… I guess I just thought that was how things were supposed to be. I thought I was only the humming low and the high.”

“Of course that’s not how you’re fucking supposed to be.”

 I coughed on a laugh, wiped away a new set of tears. On the rare occasion that Lonan did swear, he sounded much like he was doing it for the first time.

I hadn’t fully realized what I’d said before Lonan’s hand was around my arm. He pulled me close to his chest. I felt smaller than him; warm and safe. I exhaled and sunk into him, didn’t allow anything else in. I’d almost forgotten what that felt like.

“You’re funny and smart and better than a lot of people.”

And... that wraps up all of my excerpts for the time being! I really enjoyed writing the last four chapters of this book. Of course they aren’t perfect. A lot of the book needs improvement. There are entire characters who are flat and plot lines I just forgot about! Come October, I plan to get back into my edits/rewrite the story.

Really quick before I finish writing this:

I just wanted to thank everyone who read about my story and showed genuine interest in the characters. Had I not received all of this love from people in real life and online, I might never have finished this draft at all. When I started this story, my mental health was really quite bad. (I’m doing a whole lot better these days!!) I guess you could say the idea started as more of a journal entry. All of these characters are like little parts of me coming together to help the main character, and I think there’s something really special about that.

Thank you so much! Good luck on all your creative endeavors! It pays off in the end, I promise :)

tag list (ask to be +/-); @wannabeauthorzofija @a-completely-normal-writer @baguettethebooklover @corkytheguar​ @writeherewaiting @cryptid-s-wips @kingsinking @author-a-holmes

#my little note at the end says it all haha #thank you so so much for reading! #I still can't believe I finished this book on five hours of sleep

[painted-crow]

Hey I hope this isn’t awkward but that post about your burned badger (lion?) secondary really hit home for me. I’m pretty sure I’ve had the same burned model in the past - I think I started off with a healthier badger/lion model (I can’t figure out which and am still figuring out my sorting anyway) and some external life stuff going on later, I’m really just pushing through and getting stuff done with all the delicacy of a brick. And same here with the emotional rollercoaster ... 1/2

And same here with the emotional rollercoaster of it between panic/apathy. And the burnout. And the ignoring physical pain. And I can see now how this was uh. Pretty unhealthy actually but it really was just so. effective especially given the circumstances and I kind of miss it in a way. It would be nice if I could get back a healthier version of whichever model it was. Anyway I love reading your blog you always have such insightful things to say thanks for reading this ramble <3 2/2

💙💙💙 :D

Not awkward! I'm glad that was useful for someone, rather than just being an angst dump on my part lol

Emergency secondary mode, Badger or Lion?

Links to previous posts:

- post describing my emergency secondary mode (cw for burnout stuff)

- the worst version of this post (cw for terrible memes)

So, after a lot of consideration and chatting with some lovely SHC people (looking at you @mooglesorts and you @magpie-of-a-birb), I've come to the tentative conclusion that I have a Lion secondary performance.

Which is not something I ever expected to say! I've long had a knee-jerk "aaaaa scary!" reaction to Lion secondary, but actually I think that's because I have this performance and I've had to use it in unsustainable ways.

I should probably put a trigger warning here for self harm through overwork... yeah.

So, I found this song:

(While it is a bop, it is also x2 trigger warning combo for self harm ahaha)

This song's primary is exploded Glory Hound Lion--that's not what's relatable about it to me tho. What I wanted my friends' opinion on was the secondary that's displayed here. Sounded familiar. So I brought it up on the SHC Discord server (which is out of beta, dm me for an invite link if you wanna join!).

I was thinking it might actually be the fully Burned "anything that works" secondary, but Magpie was like "no, that's a Lion sec with a Snake model" and I went "huh..."

...and then Moogle was like no that's a snakesec with an unhealthy Lion model, the masks aren't working so they're busting out Lion--and especially there's the focus on the character feeling powerful because they can hurt themself with it and keep going anyway

And I was like "oh shit that tracks more than I was expecting it to... whoops"

Badger hits different without unhealthy pressure

I do have and use a Badger secondary model, and I used to think my emergency secondary mode was just my Badger model taken to unhealthy extremes. But I don’t think so now.

First, because I actually think that my emergency mode is/was often a product of my exploded Badger primary model, which itself idealized Badger secondary.

I'm still picking through that thing's shrapnel and finding its influence in old memories and automatic reactions I still have and stuff like that--not to mention rooting it out of my system. Which is to say, now that I know what I'm looking for, I'm still discovering how far back this thing goes! Turns out I've been trying to whack this piñata for years, and it used to be so much worse.

The self-destructive "I'd rather run myself hard into the ground than fail" nature of my emergency mode makes a lot of sense in retrospect. When you tie your self-worth to achievement... well: the lyrics "I'll never lose / I'll never die" from the song seem less "I have achieved immortality!" and more "I basically equate failure with death." This song really straddles that edge of relatable but also obviously messed up. It's... something.

Second, my Badger secondary model is very different when it's not under pressure from the 'splodey primary model. I'm kind of having to figure out what it's like without that and it's weird. It seems to be a whole lot more chill and also I'm getting more Courtier than I'm used to?

Yeah, turns out if you dig out "you should help other people to justify your existence, but don't accept help back or it cancels it out" from your system (because damn, there's a system piece I didn't look at closely enough) it might have been holding up Courtier potential you haven't been using.

What's the difference?

I don't know who pointed this out first, I think I read it somewhere, but Badger secondary is very process focused and Lion secondary is very results focused. (Bet you this was from @wisteria-lodge. I'm not sure, though.)

Badger usually shows up as a few main things for me: mirroring, chipping away at big projects, picking up life maintenance and self care type tasks (especially when Bird secondary is burned), and caregiving/service stuff. It can also Burn on its own, which is its own brand of "motivation is a cryptid" exhaustion. None of this looks like Lion, so where does the confusion come in?

The only time my Badger model starts to look like Lion--and here the line really blurs with the performance--is when I've tried to get it to do tasks it's not really meant for. There are things I need Bird unburned in order to tackle (perhaps it's the presence of burned Birdsec that gets in the way? That injured confidence can be really debilitating) and I can't do them with just Badger.

I'm sure actual Badger secs know how to, say, learn Adobe Illustrator's unbelievably complicated controls while under deadline using Badger, but I have no clue. I powered through using probably the least efficient controls possible. (If you're using the nudge tool as a form of measurement, you're probably doing it wrong. I'm guessing.)

Needless to say, that's exhausting. I think there's some point in the project timeline where it stops being "well it's not efficient but at least I'm making progress!" and starts being fueled by raw stubborn determination and a little bit of spite. The contentment with the process goes out the window. I'm fighting my own perfectionism (and usually losing) because I just want this thing done.

Which, that's not necessarily a bad thing! Sometimes it's really useful to be able to go "screw it" and charge. It becomes a bad thing when you ignore all your other needs to do it, possibly because you've tied success and/or productivity to your self worth, and also you're still clutching your perfectionism and hissing "my precioussssss."

also:

It's not always obvious, but I sometimes use Lion secondary in ways not connected to the splodey Badger primary model.

(Occasionally it is obvious though... haha)

I do have this one story about realizing my younger brother might be in danger and charging off to find him, armed with a heavy wooden coat hanger against potential assailants. I went from Bird situational analysis to "this is the best weapon I can find on short notice" in like 30 seconds. In my defense, I was very sleep deprived at the time.

(It makes more sense in context.)

(Sort of.)

so.

I think the emergency secondary mode is a Lionsec performance.

This post took me like a month to write even after figuring it out. And then another few weeks collecting dust in my drafts, because how do you edit something like this

But I've been sitting on it for way too long and I'm tired of saying I should finish/post it, and tonight I'm feeling bored and a little impulsive... so, screw it--I'm calling this done.

(can you hear it? it's there... fighting my Birdsec/Badgersec model perfectionism again.)

(this time, I will listen.)

#sortinghatchats #shc performances #gryffindor secondary model #(i don't have tags for performances alas) #hufflepuff secondary model #burned ravenclaw secondary #splodey badger primary model #secondary toast revolving door #asks #paint speaks

[shhh-no-ones-home]

noir 1/2 bucky barnes x vampire!reader

+++++++++

part 1 part 2

i had thought about making a part three with smut in it so if thats something you would like to see please let me know and ill finish it lol

Song: my name is human by highly suspect

tag list: @cynic-spirit

+++++++++

I sat at the table across from James and watched as he looked around nervously. We had already ordered drinks but not much conversation had gone on yet.

"This isn't really your scene is it?"

I asked and he finally looked at me, brows raised like I'd caught him off guard.

"Uh, my uh, last date didn't go so well."

He said and I nodded.

"I'll drink to that."

I raised my glass to him before taking a drink. He let out a short laugh before looking away again.

"So, James, why don't you tell me a little bit about yourself."

I said and he cleared his throat.

"Well for starters uh you can call me bucky, that's what my friends call me."

I nodded slowly, he seemed like he was reminiscing for a moment.

"Um I'm a hundred and six."

He said lightly and I laughed. He looked nervous again.

"If you're a hundred and six then so am I."

I quipped back and he seemed shocked.

"Right."

A nervous laugh. Cute. I took another drink.

"No seriously."

I said and he nodded.

"I'm not really one for mockery."

He said stoically and I shook my head.

"No, no, don't take it that way! I'm not either. I'm sorry it came off that way."

I said quickly and I could see him shift to rub his gloved hands together under the table.

"In all actuality 1917 was a pretty interesting year, if I'm doing my math correct."

He drew his brows.

"It was?"

He asked and I nodded.

"Well it's not every day America joins a world war, late to the party as usual but still. Don't get me wrong there was a lot that happened that year but that was probably the most memorable. My husband at the time was drafted that September."

He looked even more confused than he did earlier, his brows almost touching at this point if it weren't for the frown line between them.

"I know it's impolite to ask a woman her age but exactly how old are you?"

He asked quizzically and I looked up to think for a moment.

"Uh, this year on my actual birthday I will be two... Hundred and... Eight? I think?"

He laughed before taking a drink, finally smiling.

"Great."

He said before leaning over and pulling his wallet out of his back pocket.

"This was fun."

He said, slapping a twenty on the table and moving to stand.

"Bucky wait!"

He paused and looked back at me.

"Can we talk... Somewhere a little more private?"

I asked and he sighed, looking to the ground.

"Fine."

I stood quickly to match him, grabbing my bag off the back of the chair and following him outside. When we made it out the door I saw him tense a little bit, glancing to me a few times as we lazed down the sidewalk.

"Are you cold?"

He asked, reaching for his jacket zipper and I stopped him.

"No, no, I'm perfect, thank you though. You probably need it more than me."

There was the confused look again.

"You're probably trying to figure me out aren't you?"

He sighed, half shaking his head as he looked to the ground ahead of us.

"I guess I'm just trying to figure out why you would lie to me? Forgive me for being blunt but that's at least how it seems, even after I told you I didn't like being mocked."

I laughed a little.

"Bucky I didn't lie to you. My situation is - complicated."

He looked over me again.

"I am two hundred and eight, that wasn't a lie. Or, at least I don't think it was, it's hard to remember after all these years the exact number. But I was born in 1815 in new York after my mother immigrated to the states. It was a rough childhood and an even rougher lifestyle growing into my teens."

We kept walking. He was listening intently but seemed like he still wasn't so sure about me.

"I was engaged to be married by my seventeenth birthday but the night before my wedding I was kidnapped."

He looked to me in surprise.

"I was placed as an indentured servant in a trading charter, seen by many of the soldiers stationed on the coast of the capitol. That went on for a while and when I had reached my twenty fifth birthday I had earned my freedom."

He motioned to a small cafe on the strip and I nodded, him holding the door as we stepped in, the warmth engulfing both of us.

"Do you want a drink?"

He asked and I nodded.

"How about I get this one."

I offered, ordering before him and paying after him. When we had gotten our drinks we took to a booth in the very back of the cafe.

"So, you were free..."

He started and I let out a short laugh.

"Nice to know you're listening."

I said and he raised his cup to me. I cleared my throat.

"I was free, finally. It felt like forever to get there. But by then I was seen as too old; too old to Mary, to have kids, to live a life on my own. Many assumed I was a widow at this point, even moving back to new York with as progressive as it was still didn't feel right. It didn't feel like home anymore. Until I met him."

He raised a brow and I smiled to myself.

"My first real love, the one who made me."

"No pressure."

He said and I laughed, taking his one hand in mine. His body tensed.

"Don't worry, he's been dead a while."

I said, letting him go and he nodded once.

"Right."

I side nodded.

"Well to make that long story short, he proposed to me after two weeks of courting, we got married the following spring, and on our honeymoon he revealed to me what he really was."

"A crime boss?"

Bucky said and I laughed, him finally loosening up a bit as he took another drink.

"I think that would've been easier to live with but no. And I ask that you please don't laugh at this next part but rather, hear me out."

He rested both his hands on either side of his cup and gave me his full attention.

"Cross my heart."

He said and I sighed.

"He revealed to me that he was undead, that he was a vampire of sorts."

When I looked to him he looked like he was going to crack.

"I'm serious."

I said light hearted, hitting his shoulder as he started laughing.

"He turned me before our trip back to the city."

He nodded, rubbing his eye as he settled down, the smile still prevalent on his features.

"Sure."

I crossed my arms over my chest.

"Now who's mocking who?"

I asked and he shook his head.

"It's just a little hard to believe is all. You seem like such a normal young woman. Maybe a history buff who digs this old man but still."

I snorted at his words, taking a drink.

"You are young in my eyes bucky, believe me."

He shook his head.

"Okay, this is what, 1840?"

"Forty two i think, but yeah."

He sent me a look.

"Let me just get back to the story okay?"

He held his hands up in defense.

"Please, by all means."

I playfully rolled my eyes.

"Thank you. Now we were home, I was a newby and was so hungry all the time. He was terrible at taming a new vampire and I did eat a few of our neighbors but we lived in a bad part of town so people didn't really question it much when residents went missing. But what I didn't realize is that we were being watched and one day when I came home from work I found my husband decapitated on our living room floor."

His eyes went wide.

"I cried like a maniac but when I had heard someone still in the apartment I attacked them. They told me they were assigned to kill me because I was too dangerous. I ended him and I've been on the run ever since. After that I was desperate to find new love again. I've had courtships over the years but the early 1900's were pretty rough. Every husband I ever had was drafted into a war that shouldn't have happened. And I don't fear for my life as much anymore since I've lived in almost every state in this stupid country,"

We both laughed a little at that.

"But I do think of it often. The later years, the eighties and nineties were much easier as far as life and lovers went but even then I couldn't stay with them long."

He seemed empathetic.

"Why not?"

"Well, many people don't employ the idea that you'll live longer than them, it's a losing game. And even those I was open with, they begged me to turn them but I always refused. It didn't seem worth it to put the hurt I felt onto anyone else. And I don't say this to scare you off bucky but I've lived, and I mean really lived. I had one husband murdered, three drafted and lost to war, and three divorces; two of which ended with my exs dying of natural causes shortly after getting into new relationships. One had a heart attack and the other passed during a surgery."

I paused, looking to the table as his eyes tried to study me.

"Ive heard about you, I've been to the Smithsonian exhibit and honestly it all seemed like a myth. But then your friend saw me and pushed you to ask me out I actually saw hope for the first time in a long time. It's not often I can find someone with as much... Uh, life experience."

He cleared his throat, looking away when I looked back up to him.

"I'm not perfect."

He said and I could feel my features soften.

"It's seems I've lived just as much but I don't know if I'd exactly call it living. I was an experiment, an assassin, and a broken man. I've got a troubled past and I'm trying to work through that. Hell I wasn't even sure I'd get through this date given how my last one went."

I half smiled at him, reaching for his hand again. He wasn't as hesitant as last time but was still tense as I took it away from his cup. I looked over his face before pulling the glove off, holding the cool metal against my palm and tracing the fingers of my other hand over it.

"I wasn't blipped, I saw the news, and I saw what was lost. And I think part of you got lost with it but at the end of the day you are trying to get better. You are a hero bucky, even if it doesn't feel like it."

I watched as his jaw clenched and tightened. Then he turned his hand over and held mine. It wasn't hard or uncomfortable but it was firm, like he meant it.

"I haven't had the luxury of opening up to many people in recent times but you feel different. And don't take this the wrong way but you do feel like home."

He said softly and I couldn't help the smile making its way to my lips.

"You wanna get out of here? Maybe go back to my place? The coffee is much better."

I joked and he smiled, intertwining our fingers.

"Yeah, I think id like that."

#wattpad #x reader #vampire!reader #bucky barnes #the falcon and the winter soldier #the winter soldier #white wolf #imagines #one shots #marvel #326

[inkofamethyst]

January 10, 2022

K so I know I listed out a bunch of 2021 bops, but generally I tend to lose interest in songs added after the Spotify Wrapped period but early enough in the year that they become a lil stale, so I’m gonna pay homage to those songs rn with this quick lil list of songs added near the end of 2021/beginning of 2022 that I’m digging atm tho

Anybody Else - Dom Fera

Ship in a Bottle - fin

Blacksnake - Charming Disaster

Bottle Street - Walker and Wylde

Driving Myself Home - Rose Betts

Upstate’s Discography (currently only Old Advice, Marietta, NRE, Weekend, but I’m sure that list will grow)

Lacrymosa - Evanescence

I’m also going through most of Austin Wintory’s discography right now and wowza he’s got so much great stuff it makes me wanna cry I love video game music so much.  Update: The Rendezvous is actually a movie and not a video game but that’s okay the theme is still really really silkily good.

You know, every single part of me wants to get into birdwatching but it’s literally the nerdiest old-person hobby and I simply cannot bring myself to do it.

As you know I’ve been watching more movies including Pride and Prejudice 2005 (I’d never read the book and while watching I was surprised at how quickly Elizabeth got over hating Mr. Darcy but I then realized that quite a bit of time had passed so it made more sense then (also, and maybe it’s the red hair but, MR BINGLEY???  whew that’s an attractive man)) and Spiderman No Way Home (love love love love this movie omg it was wonderful (and this is coming from someone who’s never seen more than short clips and memes from the pre-mcu spiderman but was still able to understand references)) and a bunch of the DC Animated Universe movies (which,,,,, like,,,,, in general they’re just violently okay, from character design to plot to sensible scientific content).  I’m having a grand time.  I’m thinking about having a Twilight Day because I’ve never seen any of them.

Lastly: sewing.  The walking skirt is coming along.  I somehow miscalculated my waist somewhere because the final product will have a waistband that is overlapping by a severe one inch more than anticipated.  It’s pretty hidden with all the pleating back there anyway, but it sucks because I thought I’d calculated everything perfectly, and it just doesn’t look as neat up close.  I mean no one should be that close to my rump anyway and I don’t intend to wear this anywhere outside of my own house but still it’s pretty disappointing.  I’m letting it hang and then I’ll finish some of interior detailing and hem it and then I’ll be done.  

Next up I need to finish my mom’s dress.  At this point, it’s just hemming things, but I’m kind of disappointed about it overall and am not looking forward to presenting the final project :/  After that, I think I wanna get started on the pink bishop sleeve top because, aside from the sleeves, that should be a fairly quick project.  No pattern matching, and the only new technique will be the cuffed long sleeves.  

At some point I’m probably going to make a mockup for the vest pattern I drafted.  That shouldn’t take long.  I’m thinking about altering the pattern again to have a version with a “convertible” collar (which will only be worn one way lol) because that seems far more simple than drafting a shawl collar.  I really like this look and I could probably achieve it with some of this and a wee bit of some suede.  I’d love a beige/cream button up but I just haven’t found one yet.  It’d be lovely to get some linen and make myself one (or two hehe) but nowadays I only buy nice fabric like that at bargain prices if I can help it.  The one in the photo looks like some sort of (double?) gauze actually.  That could be cool.

Also, did a burn test, and the pink stuff I got yesterday might be pure wool????  Or, at least, if it’s mixed with something, it’s probably not a synthetic????  I am so happy about that omg.

Today I’m thankful that I enjoyed Spiderman No Way Home.  The first end credits scene was cute (and I’m glad they gave a preview for what Spiderman could face next bc at this point I don’t know what they could do with him following... the consequences of the movie :/) but I didn’t like how the second one was more of a trailer for the next Dr. Strange movie mainly because I don’t like trailers.  I think they can spoil too much of a movie.  I didn’t watch a single one for Endgame or really any Marvel thing (except WandaVision bc I’m a Scarlet Witch fan :P ) since Infinity War because I already know I’m going to watch everything they do and there’s no sense in me anticipating scenes I’ve already seen.

[scienceoftheidiot]

2020 Creator Wrap: Favourite works

Tagged by the incredible @foxesandmagic​, thank you !!!! this is such a cool thing to do <3 

Rules: It’s time to love yourself. Choose your 5 favourite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you’ve brought into the world. Tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!

The Old Man  (original writing) I wrote this first in French as a short story (still in 3 chapters...) and as a presentation of my character and his world for a writing gang I was becoming a part of (and I love you guys). It’s some kind of a prequel to my novel, setting who my main character is and what he can do (and can’t). I really like this story because I think it does paint a nice first picture of him, and also because it digs back into my favourite genre of short stories. You can find it in French here or here.  A couple of years before the start of *Dead Men Tell Way Too Much*, Desden is quite stressed about a job interview, leaves too early for it, and ends up sitting on a bench waiting for the right time. There, he meets someone new. 

Snow, snow...  (Daredevil fanfiction)  Matt tries to carry on through a blizzard, but the snow and his mind wandering to old memories won't let him. That’s it, that’s the fic, a collection of memories and feelings by Matt who’s being his usual stubborn little shit. I like it because it has a lot of things that I feel are important to Matt AND the way I see Matt myself. There’s Jack, there’s his past relationship with Elektra, his current with Karen, and there’s even my own personal headcanon of an old friend of Matt, as a cameo. So I think if you want to know how I write and how I see Matt you can read this and get a good idea. I know it was written in 2019 but published in 2020 SO IT COUNTS 

I’ve advanced my long and most successful Daredevil fic Murdocks Never Quit, and I’ve had ideas to finish it. Next chapter is fully planned, now I just have to get on writing !  Instead of being killed, Jack Murdock ends up in a coma and he wakes up almost 20 years later. 

Mostly, I have changed the way I see my writing and the way I write. I still write on sudden burst of ideas and I’m still an awfully lenient gardener, but it’s the way I see it and the intent in the way I write that have changed.  Sometimes I write just to write, and I’m not striving for it to be perfect at first draft (which I usually do. I do very little editing.). And I let myself go on ideas even if they sound a little weird, as when I decided to take all my OCs and send them to Paris during WW1 last year, and I’ve expanded on this story this year. Because. Why not. I actually have a skeleton for this story for once, and know where I’m taking my characters before they try to take me somewhere else. You can read this ongoing story called Life During Wartime here. And I’m pretty proud of the aesthetic I’ve made for it, which you can find here.  In early 1917 France, people’s lives have been turned upside down by the war, both on and behind the front. They have to find ways to make it better. Legal ways, moral ways… or not. To continue with what I’ve said above, I’ve also decided to write a lot more in my own language so I could share it with my writing gang who’s pushing me to write more and love what I do !!! So if you can read french here you can find a few drabbles, short stories and prompt answers I’ve written this year. I advise you to go and read what my friends on this collaborative blog write too, it’s awesome ! 

As for artworks, I’ve done a lot of ones that I’m proud of in 2020. You can find my art here at @dr-fancy-pants​ but I mostly post on IG these days due to the lack of response on art on tumblr. My handle there is scienceoftheidiot. I’m mostly proud of this new style I’ve found for myself that looks very cool in portraits. Here, have a portait of Matt, that you can find here if you want to reblog it ^^” 

I tag my writers and artists followers. All of you, even if we haven’t interacted yet. Even if I don’t know you. You do this and you tag me on it so I can discover your work !!!! Please !!! And for my friends, you can do it even if you haven’t written or drawn much this year. You can. You just tell us about what you did and your fave stories even if they’re older. And no second guesses, no thinking I actually don’t want to see it. You see this message, you want to do it, YOU DO IT and you tag me lol. Cheers and happy start of 2021 !!! 

#writing #art #original fiction #daredevil #daredevil fanfiction #tag game #fanfiction

[betterdaysareatoenailaway]

Sleep Tight For Me...I’m Gone

Lately I’ve been writing these Better Days Are A Toenail Away™️ posts in Microsoft Word, selecting all and changing the font to Garamond, which is so readable and beautiful, and posting the Word docs, paragraphs by paragraph, inside these Tumblr drafts. It makes things look nice, to my old fashioned sensibilities, but fixing errors is a time-consuming and needlessly convoluted four-step process.

First, I have to copy, then delete the paragraph containing the error. Then I open the doc. and paste the error-ridden paragraph back into Word. After I find and fix the error, I need to save it and copy and paste it back into the post. It's time-consuming because I’m not just copying a paragraph. As you can see from more recent post, what I copied looked more like a photograph of the paragraph, not the words themselves written in Tumblr’s default font Arial. For an example of this, see below. I like the way it looks like old newspaper clippings. I posted an article about how my fent dealer John Smith kept getting robbed, and had resorted to putting a machete in front of his front door as a way of preventing this, a lever of sorts, which is plainly visible in the video I posted,

So today I’ve given up on trying to make my posts look like books or zines, and have given into the Tumblr font, which is about as pretty as a horse with his snout shot off.

There are two much longer posts I’m working on right now, one about Nirvana and one about Soundgarden, respectively, and how both bands were very unlike their public perception, but those posts are taking a lot of work so I’m putting them on the backburner because today is some dumbass corporation’s day where it tries to synthesize mental health and profit and the end result is as baldly capitalist and clumsy as you would expect. 

I’m not gonna name the company, or repeat their stupid fucking slogan. As far as I can tell (which isn't very far), talking about my trauma has never made me feel better. And in fact it has sometimes made me feel worse, because in telling you what hurts and scares me, I’ve given a part of myself away that I can’t get back. When you’re like me, and you’ve lost everything multiple times, sometimes the only form of power you have is how you choose, or do not choose, to tell your story. And in a world where everybody wants to tell “their truth,” silence is power. 

You don’t get to know me, sorry. I’m not gonna hand you my life, both my bad and good experiences, and conclude: “Welp, that’s why I’m so fucked up. Case closed.” 

Honestly, I used to be a little confused, or miffed that my former partner (who is an amazing person btw, in every respect) almost never spoke about some of the traumatic things she’d experienced in her past. I took it as a sign that she either didn’t trust me, or she didn’t think I would be a sympathetic listener, or the mere fact of my gender precluded her from sharing because I couldn’t truly understand what it was she had gone through. It’s not like I ever asked her to talk about it, but I did say, once or twice, “hey if you ever wanna talk about that stuff, I’m around.” She never took me up on it, and I let it go. 

But as I watched her, and saw her life unfold, over the years we spent together, I began to realize I wasn’t exactly in any position to be telling her how to live her life or how to be mentally healthy. After all, she has found success in a number of avenues, both creative and occupational, and I’ve found neither. I'm not saying the fact that she didn't talk much about her trauma is the reason for her success. I'm saying that she's forged a better path through life than I have, and maybe I should take a cue from that.

She never told me what to do, per se. It was more like living by example. But because I’m pretty dense, and a severe addict, our time together actually sorta reminds me now of that Cornell lyric from his first record: She’s going to change the world. But she can’t change me.

I have certainly found that talking about how shitty my life is only makes me feel more shitty, not free, or unburdened, or better. If you wanna talk about your problems, and you find it helpful, more power to you. Just don’t wait for a corporation to tell you it’s okay to not be okay. 

When Chris Cornell died I was so shocked. Of all the grunge icons he seemed the most stable, and he'd survived the rise and fall of two major label rock bands. If anyone had survived the media machine that chewed up and spat out Staley, Cobain, and to a lesser extent Andrew Wood and Shannon Hoon, it was Cornell. He would be the last guy to support hashtag activism like #StarbucksMyLifeSucks. Chris Cornell actually loved to fuck with the best laid plans of corporate rats. Molson once had a few promotional concerts in Tuktoyaktuk, Northwest Territories, called Molson Canadian Rocks Arctic, with both Hole and Soundgarden playing to a crowd of flown-in grunge fans and bemused locals. But the whole anti-corporate thing grunge was known for actually came through when Courtney Love told the crowd she “use[d] Molson Canadian to douche.” Lol. Here’s a photo of Love arriving in Tuktoyatuk.

Cornell told the same people “so we’re here because of some beer company? Labatt’s?” Both artists’ jabs are funny. Cornell’s was a bit more subtle, but that’s what Cornell was like. 

So today’s post is about Chris Cornell’s suicide, more specifically the media’s reaction to it. For whatever reason, when Cornell died, every single news outlet, from CNN to Fox to CBC, posted “Black Hole Sun,” as if it’s the only song he ever fucking wrote, or – and this is far worse – the only song he wrote that’s worth hearing. The problem with this is more than twofold or threefold. It's fucking hydraheaded. 

Not only is “Black Hole Sun” a mediocre piece of music, it’s a complete misrepresentation of Soundgarden’s sound. 

Now, I’m a huge fan of the A.V. Club series HateSong, in which public figures gleefully talk shit about the one song they hate more than any other song in the world. The Max Bemis (Say Anything) one where he talks about Nirvana’s “Rape Me” as a terrible rewrite of “Smells Like Teen Spirit” is terrific, but comedian Anthony Jeselnik’s HateSong takes “Black Hole Sun” apart, and I love it. I think the best line is: I think the more I hear it, the worse it gets. AVC: After the song became a huge hit, Chris Cornell said that he’d written it in about 15 minutes. AJ: I totally believe that. I don’t believe that Soundgarden likes that song. Like, I remember Eminem once said that he knew his song “My Name Is” was going to be a huge hit because the first time he heard it he was annoyed. It’s something about an annoying song that just grabs onto people. But I don’t think that anyone likes “Black Hole Sun.” I’ve never heard of anyone who likes it. I don’t understand why it gets played so much. It’s become a summer jam, and it’s not a summer song at all. Jeselnik is right that Soundgarden didn’t think much of the song. Guitarist Kim Thayil wasn’t kidding when he disparagingly called it the “Dream On” of their live show. And Cornell himself, known for a meticulous approach to his songwriting, had admitted that with “Black Hole Sun”was “probably the closest to me just playing with words for words’ sake, of anything I’ve written. I guess it worked for a lot of people who heard it, but I have no idea how you'd begin to take that one literally.” I mean it’s obvious from the opening lines that Cornell is just playing with words and how they sound: in my eyes/indisposed/in disguises no one knows What songs would have been more appropriate for Cornell’s untimely death? Glad you asked! Cuz there’s like…fucking at least ten that would have been better. I’m not tryna be one of those “the deep album cuts are better maaaaaan,” but with Soundgarden, it happens to be true. With some bands, the single are their best work. With other bands, the singles are the hors d’oeuvres for the entrees. So what deep cuts would have celebrated Cornell’s death a bit better? Well, to begin with, Superunknown’s strange and stately closer “Like Suicide” would have worked, for obvious reasons.

“Tighter and Tighter,” a song that is actually about the moment of death and what it might feel like, is one of my all-time fav Soundgarden songs. Not only is it a creepy and prescient prediction of what Cornell’s death by hanging himself may have felt like, it’s opening line is a good description of the personification of death: Shadow face/Blowing smoke and talking wind

Another sample lyric: “A sucking holy wind will take me from this bed tonight/and bloody wits another hits me and I have to say goodbye/sleep tight for me, I’m gone/and I hope it’s  a sweet ride/here for me tonight/cuz I’m feel I’m going/feel I’m slowing down.” 

The morning after Cornell’s death hit the news my buddy and bandmate James told me that en route to work his phone, which was playing music randomly through his car speakers, landed on “Tighter and Tighter” and he had to pull over because he was tearing up. 

“Fell On Black Days” is another song about depression and mortality. Cornell had the following to say about the song: “Fell on Black Days” was like this ongoing fear I’ve had for years ... It's a feeling that everyone gets. You're happy with your life, everything’s going well, things are exciting—when all of a sudden you realize you’re unhappy in the extreme, to the point of being really, really scared. There's no particular event you can pin the feeling down to, it's just that you realize one day that everything in your life is fucked! 

Now, if that’s not a cogent and even-tempered explanation of suicidal thoughts, what is? Why else would Cornell have admitted to being “really really scared” by his depression unless he knew what that depression could ultimately leasd to? Here’s some lyrics to “Fell on Black Days.” Dig the high literary use of “whomsoever” and “whatsoever.” Whatsoever I’ve feared has come to life Whatsoever I fought off became my life Just when every day seemed to greet me with a smile sunspots have faded and now I’m doing time cuz I fell on black days

Whomsoever I’ve cured I’ve sickened now Whomsoever I’ve cradled...I put you down I’m a searchlight soul they say but I can’t see it in the night I’m only faking when I get it right I sure don’t mind a change but I fell on black days how would I know that this could be my fate?

Eagle-eared listeners might think this version different from the album version. They are right. The rendition in the video was recorded live off the floor @ Bad Animals, the Seattle studio owned by Heart, where Soundgarden would record Down on the Upside. 

“Boot Camp” is a scary meditation about loss of agency that for years was tied with Zeppelin’s “I'm Gonna Crawl” for Creepiest Song to Cap a Discography, until Soundgarden reunited and released King Animal.

“Taree” is about ghost light, influencing events after dying and features Cornell’s most exhausted, convincing “yeah” @ 2:57.

“Applebite” is a Matt Cameron-penned ponderous clunker about Adam’s original expulsion from Eden. Doomy and death-laden.

“Let Me Drown” is a song about letting someone die.

“The Day I Tried To Live” is frequently cited as Soundgarden’s finest achievement, its odd time signature somehow sounds straight, thanks to Matt Cameron’s brilliant time keeping.

“4th of July” is a song about a post apocalyptic urban landscape, where the speaker isn’t sure whether he is seeing fireworks or bombs. 

“Limo Wreck” is a cool death song and has an eerie 9-11 prediction. “Building the towers belongs to the sky/when the whole thing comes crashing down don’t ask me why.” 

ANY of the above songs would have been better than that fucking asinine dirge-like major key fuckaround that has somehow not just become Soundgarden's signature song...but their ONLY song. 

Does nobody remember Johnny Cash covering “Rusty Cage?” 

“Outshined?”

“Burden In My Hand?”

“Blow Up The Outside World?”

Did none of these other songs get stuck in the electric head? (The electric head is Rob Zombie’s term for the technologically advanced culture we have found ourselves enmeshed in, or imprisoned by. It was the subtitle for White Zombie’s 1995 hit album Astro-Creep 2000: Songs of Love, Destruction, and other Synthetic Delusions of the Electric Head.)

For my money (which ain’t much honey), the song that best fits both Cornell’s artistic integrity and the sad circumstances of his suicide is “Tighter and Tighter.” I once wrote a whole article on the way artists use “yeah” as a placeholder or as a way to convey emotion when words themselves aren’t adequate. Dig that tired, world-weary exhausted “yeah” at 5:35 of “Tighter & Tighter.”

Or the creepy line going into the first chorus: remember this...remember everything’s just black or burning sun. Not that I agree with such a bleak worldview. It’s a writer’s line. And Randy Bachman has said, “when you’re a writer, you’d step over your own mother.” That’s the Cornell I want to remember. Not that he would step over his own mother. By all accounts he was a committed family man. I mean, I want to remember the Cornell who created strange atmospheric sonic worlds, who explored the dark side that sadly, eventually won out. His otherworldly beautiful music is what I choose to remember about Chris Cornell, not his estate tastelessly exploiting “Black Hole Sun” by using a line from the song to title a posthumous Cornell album of covers No One Sings Like You Anymore. Sigh.

First Cornell’s widow said this was “Chris’s last album.” Okay. What about the Soundgarden songs he recorded vocals for before he died? Kim Thayil was pretty diplomatic about it when asked recently. Cornell did record vocal tracks for the follow up to King Animal.

Kim Thayil: “Given our love for Chris, I do not see us reconfiguring without him.”

But he makes it clear in this interview that Cornell’s widow Vicky has those tracks and won’t release them to the band. Maybe because she blames the band for Chris dying that night? She’s not wrong to believe that they would have known, and seen, what kind of shape Cornell was in, at least at the venue, maybe not later at the hotel.

Kim Thayil: “It’s entirely possible that a new Soundgarden album will be released. Certainly. All it would need is to take the audio files that are available. I tighten up the guitars. Ben does the bass. We get the producers we want to make it sound like a Soundgarden record.”

Interviewer: “Is there an obstacle stopping that?”

Kim Thayil: “There shouldn’t be. There really isn’t. Other than the fact that we don’t have those files.”

Interviewer: “They’re not under your auspices?”

Kim Thayil: “Right. It would be ridiculous if [the record wasn’t made]. But these are difficult things. Partnerships and...property.”

You’re just gonna keep those wav files? And why title his covers album Volume 1 if it’s his “last album?”

Oh right. $$$

No one does sing like Cornell, but is “Black Hole Sun” really the best thing he ever did? The best song he ever sang? Should an album of covers be the last thing he gives to the world?

The only honest answer is no.

Sleep tight Chris. You’re gone.

#betterdaysareatoenailaway #soundgarden #chris cornell #suicide