#i have more for this verse but like. i gotta clean it and organize. i finished my sketchbook and totally didnt fill 3/4 of it with assorted
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Uh.
Oops, I did it again? And by it, I mean got together a bunch of sketches for one of the assorted rottmnt stories the always amazing @amevello-blue and @alicat54cwriting are writing.
This time it's "A Different Eldest Brother", a spin off of "The Eldest Brother" by dEBB987.
I highly recommend both series, TEB is an au version of Raph, who gets yeeted into the 2012 TMNT show, shenanigans and family therapy ensue. DEB is that version of Raph, who instead ends up in different versions of his reality, except in one, Donnie's the oldest, in one it's Leo, and in one it's Mikey. And then they activate the found family trap card.
Watch my descent into struggle trying to translate the Bitties into my style. And figure out to draw the same characters, but different x3. And robotics for Dannie's prostheticsss I don't draw a lot of mechanical thingssss oh noooo
#illustration#rottmnt#rise of the tmnt#rottmnt fanart#i also platonically love Dannie so much. hes such a complex and fun character and its so nice to see him and Leon fall into the familliar#dynamic of the rise twins while still being solidly Leon and Dannie. also please let Mimy sleep please the boy#i have more for this verse but like. i gotta clean it and organize. i finished my sketchbook and totally didnt fill 3/4 of it with assorted#turtle art from different fan works. nope. not me.#the bitties and adult Mikey are supposed to have chains floating around but i drew them really lightly and now theyve vanished oh no
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i do what i have to do
a selective, dash only primarily tristamp nicholas d. wolfwood rp account by melee.
banner art: @nihilisticgenesis icon art: @carnivalfair
mun: melee age: 29 pronouns: they/them
follows from @typhoonvash
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rules: -18+ only. no minors. -this account follows the plot of Trigun Stampede, however Trimax plot threads/characters may pop up because i like the mix of the two. -unless stated otherwise (i.e. same verse/au) each blog gets their own verse. this allows us to develop a meaningful plot and diverse interactions without stepping on any toes. Do not ask me to be exclusive. -doubles okay and encouraged. -n/s/f/w sometimes and only with 21+ muns. will be properly tagged and placed under a read more when intense. -rp style: multiparagraph preferred with small text. i will not be using icons, but feel free to use yours. -if you are a multimuse, there is a high chance we won't interact. it's nothing against multimuses, but i'm looking for serious, long standing rp, not short interactions. i also prefer to keep my dash clean of anything that's not trigun or my rp partners. -oc rp is friend only and very selective. -not interested in drama. -shipping is by discussion only. flirtation is fine, but if you want his heart you gotta work for it. -Will not ship: pl*ntwood, liv//wood -will tag common triggers not present in trigun. blood, violence, and alcohol will not be tagged. i try to read bios for personal triggers, but please let me know if it's extremely serious/common/i mess up.
m!a status: closed
anons: open
random starters: open
threads preferred, but short interactions will happen.
often canon divergent/in aus. will be tagged as such.
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short bio: Name: Nicholas D. Wolfwood Age: around 25-27, birthdate unknown. Height: 6'2" Sex/Gender: cis male (he/him) Sexuality: ??? Occupation: "Undertaker", "Priest" Family/Connections: n/a, Hopeland Orphanage, Livio the Doublefang Weapons: The Punisher (multipurpose cross-shaped heavy weapon), handguns, serrated knife, sharpened canines. Abilities: S+ compatibility. regeneration (natural and via serum), high pain tolerance. hand to hand combat, melee combat, and firearms. enhanced strength capable of lifting several hundred pounds with mere fingers. increased stamina. excels at gaining intel and getting close to targets before execution. applies creativity and cleverness to strategy, allowing for unforeseen successful outcomes. the near perfect weapon—behavior and independent habits need work.
Nicholas D. Wolfwood (a.k.a. The Punisher) is a weapon and extension of the Eye of Michael, a cult worshiping the two Angels of salvation. He is trained in various styles of combat and marksmanship, which he uses to fulfill his contracts—assassinations, executions, and search and retrieve are the most common.
He's trusted with a special contract: retrieve the Angel. Deliver Him safely. Protect the Angel.
Like a good, functional tool, he obeys and is rewarded with the guaranteed safety of Hopeland Orphanage and its children; no more will become victims or lab rats. His current status with the organization is unknown after the JuLai incident.
He didn't expect to make friends. He expected to kill them. He didn't expect the Angel to thank him for his work. He expected the Angel to hate him for his betrayal.
verse list
canon divergence: 7 [appearance] [half-nude] [main outfit post w14] [more art]
canon divergence: outlaw verse [appearance]
other muse(s):
midvalley: @thathollowsound
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Jessie Ware - That! Feels Good!
(Dance Pop, Disco, Funk)
Luxurious as its predecessor with red-hot sensuality as its guide, Jessie Ware’s follow-up to her 2020 juggernaut What’s Your Pleasure? features more live instrumentation, more expressive performances, and more glamorous disco fantasies. It’s classic, classy disco revival, and nearly every moment is a dream.
☆☆☆☆½
That! Feels Good! sounds expensive. It’s in the album’s DNA through the luxurious strings and live backing band and Jessie Ware’s magnificently trained voice, but also in the feel of it all, how the music transports you to her world of fruit innuendos and 70’s disco-funk and anthemic choruses until nothing else matters but the next beat to grace the dancefloor. Her music has always had romance as its guide - think back to her ravishing 2012 single Running or her smoky R&B hit Say You Love Me - but it wasn’t until 2020’s What’s Your Pleasure? she could show off a more expressive and distinctive side of her, stepping away from clean-cut pop soul and diving headfirst into swooning disco-pop, putting her music back in the spotlight her 2017 record Glasshouse produced relatively middling results. Now, with a balance in her life that’s strengthened every side of her, That! Feels Good! continues the work of her previous album with a greater connection to ‘70s disco foundations, linking with jazz-funk octet Kokoroko to bring a jolt of live band energy to her music while keeping in line with the tight and fast disco style of her previous release. It’s a wildly joyous and uplifting album that, unlike its predecessor, captures love rather than pining at it, Ware commanding the dancefloor with expertly crafted disco where surrendering to your immediate desires is the only concern; if love is the solution, Ware ensures it’s delivered in utmost glamour and excess.
From its first moments, That! Feels Good! makes it clear Ware is not here to linger: the opening title track packs food innuendos (“I gotta something to get you high / Sugar 'n' salt it, lick that lime / Lick, lick, lick, lick, lick, lick that, get in line!”), calls for gratification (“Freedom is a sound / And pleasure is a right!”), and sumptuous verses (“Every time I get a little bit of an inclination / You can throw me to the shock of a new sensation”) into its four-and-a-half minute runtime, laying the groundwork for the following songs and heading right into the heart of the nightlife. Ware has always been an exceptional vocalist with a propensity for both smooth jams and sing-your-heart-out anthems, but That! Feels Good! reveals her excellence as a performer, often playing the party host as much as she plays the singer on the stage - Shake the Bottle anchors itself in Grace Jones-esque speak singing with only the chorus fully sung and These Lips sends the album off with elegant strings and seductive spoken word - and it pulls you right into Ware’s fantasy like never before. The first seven tracks are a masterclass in pop album structuring, coming right out of the gate with the opening trio of the title track and album singles Free Yourself and Pearls before opening up with the Philly soul-indebted Hello Love, sitting squarely in the world of organic 70s disco and soul (save for the notes of garage house and europop in Free Yourself) but never sticking to a single style - Ware has done her homework in this era of underground dance. It’s not to say she’s the first to do this kind of pop revivalism, disco and dance pop have come back the past few years in all sorts of different forms from Dua Lipa’s crisp nu-disco to the glamorous ballroom of Beyoncé’s RENAISSANCE, but Ware opts for more directly retro sounds without too much touch-up, going for classic french touch on Freak Me Now and letting instrumentalists solo through sections of Begin Again and Beautiful People, staying far from being a rehash of old sounds by perfecting all the little details. It lacks some of the chillout, atmospheric warmth of its predecessor, but never before has Ware’s vision been so bold and in your face, That! Feels Good! guiding you through every step of the party from first stepping onto the dancefloor to sneaking away with a new lover to leaving at sunrise with the music still blaring behind you.
Her focus here is almost solely on physical desire, letting her need for touch propel Freak Me Now’s uninhibited house-pop and Pearls’ dance ‘til you drop diva house, but Ware’s music has never been unfocused, this turn away from What’s Your Pleasure?’s yearning for connection during pandemic lockdowns replaced with music that knows exactly what it wants and where to get it. Beautiful People makes it Ware’s mission to fit as many people into the party as she possibly can, fueled by cowbell and a peppy horn section and rejecting misery in favor of finding a new person to party with and pouring another drink, while Begin Again finds spiritual rebirth through a syncopated Latin disco groove and lush, elegant backing instrumentation, each finding euphoria their own ways while staying true to the inclusive, community ethos that ‘70s disco was built upon. Even Lightning, the album’s one slight misstep due to its trading of disco for the moody alt-R&B jams of her early albums, doesn’t lose a whole lot of magic, still functioning as a breath mark before the album comes to an end even if it’s too drastic a step away from everything before it. She doesn’t need to take up too much of your time because these 40 minutes are more than enough to get every idea of hers across - Ware the club diva, Ware the romantic dreamer, Ware the sexual temptress - and no time is wasted in that, Ware keeping the album focused and on a defined path from start to finish.
That! Feels Good! is the kind of party where everything seems to go right: the perfect amount of people, the right kind of drinks, the perfect lighting across the dancefloor, and the most welcoming host in the form of Ware. Her music may stay in one place, but it’s because she’s never sounded better than she does here, a smooth and singular listen with one goal it achieves with absolute precision - few pop albums, especially in this revivalist style, manage to be so refreshing and true to its roots at once. Balancing so many different ideas so effortlessly is a feat in itself, yet Ware makes That! Feels Good! exciting to come back to outside of its pure craftsmanship with her passion for her musical forbearers and how she carries their ideas forward. These songs are waiting for you to lose yourself inside their rich, timeless disco fantasies, and it’s impossible to resist Ware’s invitation to the party.
#jessie ware#that! feels good!#emi#dance#dance pop#disco#funk#house#pop#9/10#2023#album review#album reviews#music review#2023 music#new music#2023 albums#luuurien
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Get to know your fic writer prompts, answer however many of these you are inclined to: 22, 35, 39, 63, 64. And I think I can answer 43 for you 😂 but if you have any elaborations… please.
22. Are there certain types of writing you won’t do? (style, pov, genre, tropes, etc)
Not sure I'd rule it out on principle, but I certainly don't write a lot of fluff, and I don't think I'd want to. Don't really write any comedy/humor, either, but it's more lack of talent there.
35. What is one essential thing to remember when writing a villain?
This is cliché af but if I'm trying to write a villain for fic where I'm trying to make a serious point, it's "they're the protagonist of their own story" and have complex emotional lives and motives for what they're doing. That said, when I write porn, I sometimes enjoy writing characters who are fully aware they are being evil sadistic bitches and simply dgaf because uhm I can relate.
39. Share a snippet from a WIP
“You need to tell your husband,” Maeve is letting the word melt on her tongue, “to back the fuck off and leave us alone.”
“You know I ain’t responsible for the cunt just because he’s decided he wants to play beauty and the fucking beast with me, right?”
Billy still has his own place, but he likes staying over at Vought Tower more than he cares to admit. Homelander is clingy and needy and willing to do just about anything if it’ll get him Butcher’s time and attention. He’d be lying if he claimed he wasn’t enjoying Homelander serving him breakfast in the morning, pouring him tea naked on his knees or making Billy feed him little morsels of French toast dipped in milk, begging to let him suck on his fingers. He is absolutely ridiculous in ways Butcher could have never foreseen, and he's enjoying it more than he should.
“Fascinating,” Maeve says. “I can’t decide which one of you is the beauty and which one is the beast.”
“I’m the beauty. Obviously.” Butcher bends over and starts kissing her, his hands searching for her bra under her shirt.
But Maeve isn't having any of his distractions this time and pushes him away. “Tell him to back the fuck off, I mean it, Butcher.”
“Know what?” Billy says. “I’ll do you one better. You can tell him yourself, and I bet you'll even get yourself an apology.”
Maeve burst our laughing, spitting her coffee half across the table. “An apology? From Homelander? What are you smoking these days?”
This time, it’s Billy’s turn to laugh. “Oh, I promise you you’ll get one. Tell you what, if you don’t, I’ll clean for you naked for a full month. How does that sound?”
Maeve grins. “Deal.”
43. Do you take a sadistic joy in whumping your characters, or are you more the "If you hurt them I would kill everyone and then myself" kind of person?
LOL I mean, what can I say. I love torturing my blorbos and making them beg (and I occasionally also love exploring the psychological aftermath of the ordeal). But I don't really enjoy gore, mutilation, or anything like that. Yes, it's gotta be unbearable for blorbo in the moment and he'd do anything to make it stop, but I want no organ damage or even a character death (I've made one character death exception in a fic, but I don't enjoy seeing my blorbos tortured if I know they're going to fucking die from it; definitely a massive instant turnoff.)
63. Something you hate to see in smut.
A couple of things. First, I guess, is basic mistakes, like, no lube of any kind during anal sex unless you're in ABO verse I guess, which I actually also kinda hate for no particular reason. Basic anatomy, too. Brings out my inner Stannis Baratheon. Then I just have a ton of super specific squicks that'll absolute ruin a fic for me. For smut I otherwise adore, I try to ignore them, but it's hard because they're instant turn-offs. I am hellafucking particular about any tickle fics I read, and it's almost impossible not to ruin one for me at least a little bit lol.
64. Something you love to see in smut.
Lots of things, light dom/sub dynamics, lots of begging and whimpering, big fan of bondage. Loss of control. Las Vegas State of Mind was super hot. Also dubcon and fucked up dynamics. Big humiliation kink. Trying to decide if I should count whump as smut because some of it sure is for me lol.
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27 - 30
|| Headcanon Prompts || @gentlehealer ||
27: Sleep
While she likes to sleep outside, she does have a bed of her own to sleep in – she just doesn’t use it all the time.
Confined in a room, she finds it more difficult to sleep because of how her reiatsu affects the environment. Her belongings will get frosted over and it can be a mess to clean up. Sure, she can use reiatsu suppressor blankets but those took her multiple arcs to even come around to trying because she hated the idea of being ‘suppressed’ any more than she already was.
Her reiatsu can flare out more naturally when she's outside and has room to breathe, so to speak. Finding a good sleeping spot isn’t typically an issue for her because it’s an old habit and she’s adept at memorizing geographical layouts.
28: Home
Jewel has inhabited a number of places; the 11th’s barracks, her living space connected to her office, to a bunch of different hideyholes. None of them are home in the sense of a permanent place of belonging.
Even with a place to put some of her belongings, Seireitei has never felt like home. It was where she worked and lived but in a cold, professional sense. ‘I’m here because I have to be.’ kinda thing.
Hueco Mundo may the place where she can tango with her instincts and feel a natural sense of self, but it’s a killing field, not a home. Her Inner World is similar in this way.
Her hideyholes within Soul Society and the Living World come close but they’re only sources of temporary happiness. Jewel uses them to get away from others and find a sense of peace and enjoy her own company, but she knows she will always have to leave them. They’re close to what she would call a home, though.
29: Bedroom
Her living space is connected to her office in the 11th division, all of which is situated in a large wooden treehouse structure. One could take the long way, climbing up into her office and taking a walkway bridging the office to her living space, or shunpo up to her balcony.
A portion of the tree grows through her room and disappears into the ceiling. Stained glass suncatchers hang off the branches and are tucked in the windows. Her shelves are lined with a myriad of geography, history, and origami books, stacked in an organized chaotic fashion. Bones and crystals decorate the tops of her shelves. There’s a small kitchen that shares an open space with her bed, which has a few thick blankets and fluffy pillows to rest on or hold on to.
Her home interior tag would help provide extra visual inspiration! The same aesthetics would apply to any house-like hideyhole or modern verses where she’s living somewhere.
30: Sex
Generally, Jewel likes to take charge in this area, but I would categorize her as a top leaning switch. She wouldn’t mind being dominated (lowkey wants it some of the time), but her partner’s gotta work for it. Her favorite way to challenge this is to rough around and tussle with her partner and see who can keep topsies. If he can, then she’ll let him have it.
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Sharing Saturday - a List of Fic Recs
I haven’t restricted this to a number but I’m also doing my best to keep it from going out of control, too. I pretty much just have 2 consistent fandoms that I read/write so if you like either the MCU or Sherlock then this is the post for you!
MCU:
Adventures Throughout the Multiverse (Series) by Aelaer Jumping into different dimensions always involves risk. Sometimes you never know what sort of troubles you will run into until you have arrived. Thankfully, alongside these dangers a sorcerer is sometimes lucky enough to come upon unexpected allies.
In which Stephen encounters characters from characters from JRR Tolkien to even his own doppelgänger in Sherlock Holmes. I LOVE these!! Not only supremely clever and lovingly researched but just straight up entertaining as fuck! @aelaer writes some of the best Doctor Strange fic that I’ve read on on top of all that is a spectacular artist besides!
Omertà by HanukoYoukai After chasing down the criminal that took Uncle Ben's life, Peter is found by James Wesley, the right-hand man of Wilson Fisk--a wealthy businessman trying to clean up Hell's Kitchen. Having left a strong impression on the man, soon Peter finds himself working for Fisk, doing an internship for his business projects by day, and catching bad guys at night. If Mr. Fisk wants a few specific criminals delivered to him personally, who is Peter to object? All his boss wants to do is talk, after all, and ever since this internship began, things were finally looking up for the Parkers. Then Peter hears the whispers in the underworld about the elusive and terrifying Kingpin, and somehow there are rumors that Spider-Man is on the Crime Lord's payroll. When he decides to use his own judgement and go against Mr. Fisk's wishes, Peter suddenly finds himself neck deep in mob activity with no means to get himself out. To make matters worse, now Iron Man has Peter in his sights.....
I LOVE her writing - the interpretations of Peter Parker and fantastic and do right by him in a big way. Peter is actually the teenager I expect to encounter - with all of the nuance and emotion that I want to see! On top of that THIS is some top notch Tony Stark - again, very true to canon with his Stark snark intact!
Identity Saga (Series) by KitCat992 An organically developed, platonic slow-burn of Avengers-fam dynamic with a heavy hand of Irondad & Spiderson. Throw in an overdose of whump, a couple of cunning villains and a big-bad hiding in the shadows, and you got yourself this hot mess.
Another stunning Peter Parker writer and OH my gosh if you are an IronDad fan and haven’t read this yet like what in THE hell are you doing?? Strap that seatbelt tight and paste your eyeballs to this series you will NOT be disappointed!
A Twisted Upheaval (WIP) by silentsaebyeok “I’m afraid, Harrison, you’ve awakened a sleeping giant.” Wilson said. “Tony Stark will do anything and everything to protect those he loves. And with your carelessness, it is inevitable that my criminal empire will be brought to its knees. This is your last opportunity, your last chance to get this right. He is on our radar now.” -- The Kingpin runs the criminal underworld. He is the mastermind and the puppeteer. Tony Stark has been trying to find the elusive gangster for years, but with no luck. But then Peter Parker is kidnapped by an agent of the Kingpin’s, revealing the cracks in an otherwise unshakeable organization. Unlikely alliances form and friendships are made as the criminal underworld begins to unravel.
*Smacks my desktop* THIS story!! It isn’t even completed yet but this fic is top level epic! This one, along with Omertà, got me totally hooked on Wilson Fisk interfering with both Peter and Tony and boy does it deliver on those dynamics!!
Sherlock:
Got My Eye on You (Series) by 7PercentSolution These stories cover just about everything from Greg's POV, from the first day they met when Sherlock was 17 through the pre-John years, John's arrival, their work together, the fall and the reunion, covering events in broadcast series 1-3 (and 4 eventually). If you ever wondered why Greg Lestrade was one of the three people Moriarty targeted, this is your answer.
Frankly I love everything I’ve read so far - the stories are incredible and deep and not afraid to dig into hard subjects. There is a wealth of backstory and Sherlock’s younger years and all the hardships he dealt with. I’m especially in love with the OC, Sam - what a treasured character!
It takes John Watson to save your life. by Sparkypip A series of One shots where John saves Sherlock's life in so many ways. Will be updated sporadically as and when I get any time to write. As always I like my characters hurt, so plenty of angst, H/C, whump and bromance (no slash) will ensue. Please comment if you can.
These were some of the first Sherlock fics I ever read and I have been hooked on this writer to this day! SO satisfyingly whumpy and on top of that many of the stories have their own comfort follow up story!!
A Sharp, Dressed Man 'verse (Series) by sgam76
I just love this series to bits and while the author considers is a break from heavier subjects, don’t for one second think that means it can’t take a deep dive into its own mythology nor deliver a freaking spectacular tale! I have loved vampire AU for a long time and this series is pure delight and hits every damn button for me! You want a cool interpretation of vampires? BAM! You want family dynamics to the extreme? BAM AGAIN! You want exploration of creature angst? BAM BAM BAAAAM!!! I’ve already read through these three or five times and I can promise I will do so again!
The Chemist by TheGracefulBlueCat Sherlock returns to Baker Street and faces detox. But he feels too exhausted and bad to go through it fully conscious, so he - once more - uses his mind palace to distract him with an old case. But due to his drug issues and the tension between him and John things don't work as smoothly as everyone hoped they would, confronting Sherlock and all his friends with more of their demons than they would have liked to.
This writer is absolutely on-point with the writing of these characters - especially Sherlock. It was primarily through this writing that I felt I got such a good view of why the interpretation of Sherlock as autistic makes sense - but that it is the only truly logical conclusion. Not to mention the fanart @ceruleanmindpalace (same person) creates will leave you breathless!!
Who You Really Are (Series) by EnglandsGray So very like her, to take something he would otherwise find inconsequential – boring – and transform it into something he couldn’t live without...For Sherlock, after Sherrinford, none of the worlds he inhabits will ever be the same again. He can see a way to rebuild, but he is terrified. For Molly Hooper, strength is something she feels she is losing by the day, but the time has come for her to stand her ground.
Ohhhh my gosh like deep dive right into the pit of angst! And yet so soft and precious. This first story of the series is one that I’m still going through and it is unbelievably rich and welling with delicious plot stuff and relationship and hurt/comfort and just - you gotta read iiit!!!
He Is Different, This One by ASilvergirl How would the Serbian "interrogation" go if his captors knew that Sherlock was neuroatypical and had synaesthesia? This is an alternate version of the scene from "The Empty Hearse."
I mean, how could I not love this fic? For the record I’m still not even a little bit tired of fics that explore what may have happened in Serbia. It is just one of the most unresolved moments in the series - going from that damn beating to him walking in on John like I NEED MOOORE!!! And this fic gives me SO much more than I could have expected! Plus I’m always doubly onboard with a story that depicts Sherlock as neuroatypical.
There are sooooo many more fics I could link!! As it is I’ve been at this for about 3 hours and I’m dropping to the floor. But to see the rest of the stories I’ve loved please check out my bookmarks!
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get to know me !!!
tagged by: @skrtbabe 💓 ty for the tag!!!
tagging: @wavesmp3 @sftwrmfics @flrtwoo @starrytxt (only if yall want to ofc!! 💖 pls don't feel obligated to read my ramblings lmaooo)
tldr: tbz drink it, music analysis, and like one embarrassing story in the middle
what is your birthday?
cancer sznnn aye haha it was a few weeks ago
what is your favorite color?
pink!!!
what's your lucky number?
as i quote "luck doesn't exist, it's all a coincidence"
do you have any pets?
a dog!!! he's big and dumb and cute (but i mean... aren't all boys)
how tall are you?
166cm / 5'5.5 the last time i checked
how many pairs of shoes do you own?
idk, just enough
favorite song?
how can anyone just pick one??? atm it's tbz drink it — yall please listen to the final chorus of the song, especially younghoon's voice at 3:00... man his lower register is insane i will never stop talking about this. ok but also sangyeon's voice!! his part in verse 2 right before the prechorus + the first half of final chorus. ugh absolute perfection. and then hak!!!!! omg i cannot get over how well his rapsy rockstar voice suits this song. would definitely pay to hear this live. the other vocalists' parts are very well placed and definitely heighten the song! pls creker can we get more songs like this? (have high hopes for nightmare rn tho!!)
favorite movie?
again, how to just pick one!!! i'm really into thriller/suspense tho! rn looking forward to seeing escape room 2 (i've literally had this one my list since seeing the first one a couple years ago haha)
what would be your ideal partner?
@ any of the lee boyz from tbz 👀
ehh honestly don't have an ideal type anymore?don't really believe in love anymore
do you want children?
not atm, maybe in the future idk
have you gotten in trouble with the law?
not... yet... LMAO
what color socks are you wearing?
oh please no i hate wearing socks
bath or shower?
showers
favorite type of music?
does dark kpop boy group music count? hAHAHA ok anything upbeat and in a minor key!!! bonus if there are V chords (sorry, inner music nerd poppin out here). i'm very versatile when it comes to genre or instruments or whatever tho. can probably find something i love in any language and genre!
how many pillows do you sleep with?
just one!
which position do you sleep in?
side
what you don't like when you're sleeping?
i don't like when i'm sleeping LMAO it feels like a waste of time when there's soooo much to be doing! so much to see in the world!!! ok but i do like it when i get nice dreams with cute kpop boys hahaha
what do you have for breakfast?
cereal, at like 2pm LMAO
have you ever tried archery?
yes omg it's a lot of fun and i wish i could get another opportunity to do it again!!
favorite fruit?
hmm strawberries? exotic answer would be mangosteen maybeee
favorite swear word?
f u c k
do you have any scars?
scar by the boyz
i got a couple of scars in freshman year when i tripped and fell into a construction zone on campus... you know what maybe i'll write that into a fic it was EMBARRASSING AF but also bloody and very painful so like. yeah. no cute guy to help me up unfortunately
are you a good liar?
mhmm very good when i choose to be!
what's your personality type?
enfp, though i spent most of my life believing i was intj LMAOO. guys the mbti test isn't accurate, you rlly gotta study the cognitive functions to know 😂
what's your favorite type of girl?
you know sol and jiwan from nevertheless? man they're both so attractive uGHHHH. also bitna omg she's HOT. ok you know what. everyone in that drama is freakin attractive.
innie or outie?
if ur referring to bellybuttons then innie lmaoo
left or right handed?
right! though i'm decent with my left
favorite food?
ddeokbokki 😍 the spicy kind with cheese. oh man juyeon... please don't add so much water to it alfjkdajf i died laughing at this ep. bb come here i'll make you ddeokbokki!!!
are you clean or messy?
depends on what you're talking about hahaha. files are organized, room is not. brain probably isn't either
favorite foreign food?
i love bun bo hue, does that count as foreign
how long does it take for you to get ready?
ready for what? can range from 10 mins to 60 ish probably
most used phrase?
"omg" according to my twt
are you a good singer?
hmm decent! duet me sometime ;)
do you sing yourself?
i usually practice singing in my closet LMAOOO i mean i don't think i suck but yknow. still don't want to be a source of noise pollution in this world
biggest fear?
a lot of things but hmm maybe deep water... please do not show me pics or vids of bodies of water 😭
do you like long or short hair?
team short hair! just got my hair done last week and my hairstylist made me HOT (but omg the damage is real. idk how kpop stars do it)
are you into gossips?
well. aren't we all LOL. i don't gossip much but idk, if it's harmless it can be kinda interesting
extrovert or introvert?
introverted extrovert, as i like to say. i spent most of my life believing i was an introvert, and it wasn't until recent years that i realized the truth LMAO. literally idk why it took so long. i have always HATED when friends cancel plans on me. hated staying in and being alone. i would walk friends home all the time just so i could cling onto them a little longer!! but at the same time, i'm terrible at talking to people 😭😭😭
favorite school subject?
science! especially chem and physics 😍 (whoever's reading this is gonna be like wtf is wrong with u, I KNOW)
what makes you nervous?
right now, the job search. nervous for the future i guess
who was your first real crush?
HAHA this guy in grade 3. and he liked me back!!! but unfortunately my family decided to move right after so i did not live my y/n dreams. though i moved back to my hometown for uni and we did reunite...
how many piercings do you have?
eight! four on each ear but i retired two of them. BUT getting two more next weekend!!!! omg i'm excited
how fast can you run?
if i'm running to line up for a tbz concert then maybe really fast?
what color is your hair?
black naturally but just got some nice colouring done last week!!! streaks ranging from caramel to ashy blonde ugh it looks so nice and diff and i haven't dyed it since 2014 so this is THRILLING
what color are your eyes?
brown
what makes you angry?
when things are unfair... like being blamed for something you didn't do...
do you like your own name?
haha why have one name when you can pick a diff pen name for each blog (-‿◦)
do you want a boy or a girl as a child?
how about neither lololol. but i mean, as long as they're a good child it doesn't matter
what are your weaknesses?
2 shy 4 life, don't have enough discipline. too in love with the possibilities of life to mature or settle down
what are your strengths?
i learn and adapt quickly! and i'm generally a positive person!!
what is the color of your bedspread?
some kind of floral pattern or smth
color of your room?
light blue with clouds!!! kinda want to repaint it pink tho lmao
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Reverse verse idea
Something I really want is a good reverse verse or reverse au of Supernatural. I don’t know how I haven't found one but it seems like no one is writing any hunter!Cas, angel!Dean, or Angel/Demon!Sam in the respective roles they should have in the show.
I hate putting my own shit out for people to see and I haven’t written anything in years so this’ll be absolute garbage but the only way others might see this and hopefully do the REALLY hard work for me is if I get the ball rolling so….
Here’s how I imagine Castiel’s background as a human hunter:
Like most human!Cas fics, I see most of the angels as being his close and distantly related family who all make up the Men of Letters. There are other hunters who maybe come and go and MoL who aren’t related to Cas, but I see this as the “family business.” The Novaks (cause I’m uncreative) are made up of Chuck, Michael, Lucifer, Gabriel, Anna, Balthazar, and Castiel. Distant cousins, aunts, and uncles are made up of the other angels. Growing up, Castiel didn’t have a normal childhood, but it wasn’t filled with the doom and gloom one would probably assume a MoL family to have. He was closer to Gabriel, Balthazar, and Anna than his other family which is great because only they seem to catch his sense of humor and he loves being the secret weapon to most of Gabriel and Balthazar’s antics against the other MoL in the bunker. Castiel was homeschooled, like all of his siblings, and found his days filled with texts on all manner of creatures, folklore, and rituals that were drilled into his head which he picked up much faster than any of his other siblings, much to Michael and Lucifer’s annoyance. He also has his basic education, courtesy of his weird uncle Metatron who runs the MoL archives. MEtatron made sure all of the kids had as much of a “normal” education as possible, especially in the Literature department. The rest of Castiel’s younger years were filled with play fighting and learning the basic skills of caring and preparing for weapons, health kits, vehicles, and items for spells and protection.
Suddenly, the MoL is overrun by demons and other supernatural entities that were easily coerced into attacking the MoL by the demons. It’s a massacre and the MoL that escape are forced into hiding. Castiel’s mother or Chuck (haven’t decided which or who his mom would even be) is killed protecting him as a distraction while Gabriel grabs Cas and runs. With their family in the wind, Cas and Gabriel are forced to fend for themselves for a time where they grow even closer through the trauma of the attack and the hardships of living on their own. Eventually, they are found by Michael who brings them back to a smaller and harsher order of the MoL, of which Michael is in charge. Under Michael's careful and ruthless planning, younger members are sent out on hunts and those that come back are not the same, physically and mentally. Lucifer, the second-in-command, is a loose cannon but prefers to be in charge of combat and weapons training. He is especially hard on his siblings and Cas received the worst of it, under the impression that his older brother only wants him to learn faster to better protect himself.
Castiel’s first kill is a demon. He cries and throws up afterward because he knows that the woman the demon possessed was still in there. It changes something in Cas. He’s not too different in regular circumstances. He still smiles and laughs with his siblings and enjoys new shows with Samandriel and discovering new spells with Metatron but on hunts, as the cases start to pile up and more lives are lost, he becomes more ruthless and cold. The only focus is destroying the ghost, vampire, werewolf, or whatever the fuck is killing people. Gabriel is always there to pull him out.
One day, Castiel and Gabriel are on a case where they meet a man who says that he has had a demon sighting. WIth his help, Cas and Gabriel find a small demon organization and clean up shop. After a thorough background check and several supernatural checks, Sam is welcomed into the MoL and the Novak clan.
It is unfortunate that there are not any checks to identify a King of Hell of Sam’s caliber though.
Having infiltrated their ranks, Sam makes quick work of sowing discord through the MoL leading to unnecessary deaths in easy cases and ambushes of carefully vetted safehouses. To Cas, it’s just another shitty day as a hunter, but the unusual circumstances surrounding these cases puts him off. However, Cas, Gabriel, and Sam have become fast friends and it’s hard to start accusing a man of such diabolical deeds when you see him as your closest friend, after your siblings.
Through some means, Sam shows his hand and the attempt to destroy or subdue him leads to casualties and afterward Gabriel goes missing. Castiel isn’t worried he’s been kidnapped, as Gabriel keeps in the barest amount of contact with only him, but he does start to become concerned when Sam starts appearing around every corner hinting at some horrible fate awaiting him when he sees Gabriel again.
Sam, as it turns out, is not a man, or King of Hell, easy to shake. No matter the time or place, Sam makes his presence known to Castiel in some strange semblance of the man he pretended to be when they were friends. In fact, Sam brings him gifts that are useful and rare for spells that he’ll eventually need for a hunt or a rare item that Cas was researching on a whim one night. And maybe he should be worried about what this means about his safety, but after the last attack against Sam, most of the MoL are uneasy around him so Cas is prone to keeping to himself at a cabin he repurposed for his own use and he isn’t used to being alone for so long.
Things happen….Cas is at his lowest point. Gabriel isn’t answering his calls and the rest of his family, except for Balthazar and Anna who try to stay in contact under the radar, is barely speaking to him. So Sam offers to make a deal with him which Cas obviously rejects. After careful prodding and subtle hints at how lonely his future is looking, Sam offers to make sure that Cas is never alone again and he agrees in a moment of weakness. When they shake on it, Sam burns a mark on Cas (a la the Mark of Cain perhaps) as a sign of their new connection. Horrified and angry, Castiel who is well learned on demon deals, adds a quick alteration to what he assumes is in Sam’s fine print: Castiel will never be alone and while Sam is going to have some part in that, he will not be attached to Sam for his whole life and it won’t be Sam that stays with him. Sam’s miffed about that but as smart as he is thinks of a quick work around.
When Castiel finally sees Gabriel again, it’s the last time they see each other. Gabriel drops off a baby and says all kinds of weird things about angels, nephilim, and some apocalypse that’s coming but it makes no sense. It’s almost as if he isn’t even speaking to Cas in a language he understands or is even present when he looks at him.
“He’s yours now. He’s yours. You have to take care of him. It’s gotta be you, Cas. You're the only one of us with the brains to keep this whole thing under wraps until it's time. They can’t find him. They’ll kill him. They’ll kill him, Cas. You hear me?”
Castiel vaguely understands the small bits of information that make sense out of all of Gabriel’s rantings and can piece together. As Castiel finds a place to stash the baby for a while, Gabriel disappears leaving a notebook full of markings, sigils, and notes about his visions and the baby. His name is Jack and he is the supposed Antichrist. Sam’s baby. And as Cas thinks on it longer, the culmination of their deal.
Understanding the severity of the situation, Cas manages to appeal to his family and the MoL and is let back into the MoL with the story of his son, Jack, whose mother died in an attack against werewolves soon after Jack was born. The only ones who know the truth are Balthazar, Anna.
A few months pass, Castiel raises Jack as any other child and does what he hopes is a decent job of raising a kid when he notices that Jack is much bigger than an eight month old baby should be. The issue of Jack’s rapid aging is momentarily shelved as an attack against a small band of local hunters, not MoL, is attacked by a blinding light and a noise that pierces and bursts eardrums to the point of insanity.
Why did I do this? Who knows. Part 1?
Please don’t hurt me, I usually just reblog shit for fun.
#please no one i know in real life contact me#i dont have the motivation to write this#someone please do it for me#supernatural#supernatural au#spn#spn au#reverse verse#reverse au#destiel#deancas#castiel#hunter cas#hunter castiel#demon sam#sam winchester#king of hell sam#dean winchester#angel dean#archangel dean#jack kline#gabriel#balthazar#anna#michael#lucifer#chuck#idk what else to tag in this
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Some Domestic Family Fluff for Genesis Verse, please? You can choose the ship!
yes!!! this is a sorina and ryoali-centric drabble featuring Yukihira Kaede and Kurokiba Auden. They’re both babies in this one, but Auden will end up in gen 119. Kaede develops an interest in architecture pretty early on and never attends Totsuki (she does cause a shitstorm there later but that’s a story for another day lol) but if she did, she would be in gen 121.
It was rare for Nakiri Erina to be at a loss of words, but watching her seven-year-old daughter boss around her older cousin with all the tyrannical authority she herself had once exercised back when she was a kid really left her speechless.
“Kurokiba!” Kaede said shrilly, and Erina was thrown by how venomous her daughter’s disgust was. “You cannot use all the vodka for merlons! Save some for the embrasures! Have you forgotten everything I taught you!?”
“What the shit are those?” Auden said as he continued to assemble Fort Kaeden using all of his dad’s carefully organized spirits. That Alice would let her son swear like a damn sailor before he even reached his double digits was appalling to think about, but then Erina remembered that the kid’s dad was Kurokiba Ryo. Shit happens.
It was close to two in the afternoon, and Erina was supervising the kids’ construction process behind the bar of Ryo’s old pub in Denmark. Babysitting (and to be honest, parenting in its entirety) had never been her forte, but all relevant inexperience aside, it didn’t seem particularly legal to allow pre-tweens to manage a bar.
She only had to survive ten more minutes until Auden’s parents came back. Only ten minutes, and then Erina would be relinquished of all culpability if someone or something — you never knew with kids — blew up.
“Audie, honey, I don’t think that’s a very good idea,” Erina tried anxiously as Auden stacked two bar stools to complete the finishing touches at the top of Fort Kaeden.
“Aw, relax, mom. He’s gonna be fine,” Kaede said flippantly as she passed Erina a stick of the tanghulu she’d whipped up in the adjacent kitchen, her mismatched eyes imbued with a healthy dose of her mother’s acute intelligence.
Erina ran her fingers through Kaede’s strawberry blonde hair. “Sweetie, I just don’t want him to get hurt.”
“He’s a Kurokiba,” Kaede deadpanned. “He’ll die before he gets hurt.”
Now just who had let Yukihira Kaede possess the same brutally vicious honesty as her mother?
There was a brief moment of silence before they heard a blend of enraged squalling, various cracking noises, and a very raucous shattering of many bottles of liquor.
“SHIT!” Auden yelped as he landed face first on top of the broken glass.
“AUDEN!” Kaede and Erina screamed simultaneously, rushing to pick him up off the floor. They turned him over and Erina prayed desperately that the kid was still alive and functional.
Auden’s entire front was drenched in what had to be the strangest combination of various alcoholic beverages known to man. He was laughing; it took Erina a full thirty seconds to conclude that this was a good sign. The Kurokiba Nakiris were really a strange bunch.
Kaede sighed. “Dammit, Kurokiba. We’re gonna have to start over.”
“Kaede! Your cousin could have seriously been injured just now. And who said you could use bad words like that?” Erina scolded. Maybe she did have some potential in parenting after all.
Kaede frowned. “Uncle Ryo did. He said expanding my vocabulary is healthy. And pops agreed.”
Dammit, Souma!
“And Uncle Hayama and Auntie Hisako, too,” Kaede offered. “They said I can do whatever.”
Them, too!? Erina resigned herself to the fact that she was officially the only sane person in the friend group.
“Kurokiba, you’re bleeding,” Kaede pointed out, and Erina blanched.
There was a small cut under his lower lip — if Auden had a matching one on the other side, he could pass for having fangs. Erina was clearly not the only individual who noted this; Kaede laughed and said, “You’re half a vampire!”
Auden grinned. “That’s amazing! I’ll bite you!”
Kaede gave a shriek. “Try and I will replace your shoelaces with overcooked ramen noodles,” she warned. “By the way, we should clean up the mess here before Uncle and Auntie come back.”
Just as Erina was poised to commend her daughter’s thoughtfulness and responsibility, Kaede added, “That way we can pretend like nothing happened.”
Morals, indeed.
It was then that the uncle and auntie in question decided to make their re-emergence.
“The fuck happened in here?” was Ryo’s first comment. He dropped his phone, keys, and wallet, and vaulted over the bar. “Good lord, kid, did you spill all the vodka?”
“Hey, dad,” Auden greeted. “Nah, it was only 73% of it. We had to make melons and pretty-sures for our fort.”
“Merlons and embrasures,” Kaede corrected him.
Alice threw a pointed look at Erina as she approached them. “I thought you said you’d be fine handling them for an hour?” The blonde gave a sheepish smile.
“I mean, they’re still alive,” Ryo said. “It’s all good with me.”
“Come on, Ryo, you gotta back me up!”
“I am, don’t worry.”
“Holy SHIT, Audie, did you cut yourself on the glass!?” Alice yanked her son to her and examined his face. Ryo, Erina, and Kaede leaned over her shoulder to take a closer look.
“Yeah, I did, ma,” Auden replied. “I’m totally okay, though. Kaede said I’m like a vampire! Isn’t that so cool?”
Alice sighed. Erina said sympathetically, “Kids will be kids.”
Ryo gently wiped the blood off Auden’s chin. “It doesn’t look that bad.”
Erina, who had some minor theoretical experience thanks to Hisako’s expertise in the medicinal field, mused, “This might scar.”
“Good lord,” Alice said. “At the very least, I hope the fort was worth it.”
“Yeah! It was!” Kaede chimed in.
Ryo took his son by the shoulders. “Listen, Kurokiba Auden. Nothing will change because of this scar, understand? I will still love you forever. But if you end up as stupid as your uncle, I will disown you.”
Erina chafed — there was significantly more truth to the statement than she would’ve preferred.
“Hey, my pops is smart,” Kaede protested. “Don’t say that kind of thing about him!”
“What about me?”
Everyone whipped around. Yukihira Souma was standing in the doorway of the pub bearing a small duffel bag and his typical billion-watt smile. He stepped in and gave Erina a quick kiss before twirling Kaede into the air. “Hey, honey!”
“Hi, daddy! Kurokiba might get a scar and Uncle Ryo said if he ended up as dumb as you he’d disown him!” Kaede reported.
Souma raised an incredulous eyebrow. “Did he, now? Well, I guess your Uncle Ryo doesn’t know that I can destroy him in a shokugeki any day, every day. Isn’t that right, Kaede?”
“Damn right, pops!” Kaede crowed triumphantly.
“Only when your stars are aligned,” his wife mused.
“What the hell?” Ryo bellowed.
“My dad’s the best!” Auden defended.
“Babe, he’s beaten you a lot more than you’ve beaten him,” Alice said, trying to keep a straight face.
Souma gave Alice and Kaede fist bumps. “This support crew is intense,” he sang. “We don’t need anybody else. We’ll make them jealous, won’t we?”
“Duh,” Alice said, crossing her arms over her chest. “See, look! Erina’s already fuming.”
The Nakiri in question gave an annoyed huff. “How am I fuming!? Come on, Auden, Kurokiba. Let’s show these plebeians just who are the best chefs in here right now.”
And of course, in a classic Nakiri-Yukihira-Kurokiba manner, the six of them would cook for the rest of the day, talking shit at each other, laughing, drinking (kombucha for the kids, of course), gathered around the bar until the Arato-Hayamas arrived, and then the cycle of shokugekis would start again.
It had always been like this, and this was how it was always meant to be.
#shokugeki no soma#sorina#soueri#shokugeki no souma#nakiri erina#ryo kurokiba#alice nakiri#yukihira soma#ryoali
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ok go ahead chief, talk to us about /that/ one verse 👀
OH SHIT BERRY YES I’LL TELL YOU BUT FIRST I GOTTA
A—
Because holy shit I’ve been dying for someone to ask but at the same time I’m like holy shit no Chief shut up this is self-indulgent BUT.
AA—
Okay, ok we good. SO first off let’s just say Pokémon timelines are even more confusing than Zelda timelines so I’m not even gonna dip my toes into looking what happens first/etc. ALSO SECOND THIS MIGHT END UP BEING A LONG-ASS WORD-VOMIT ALL OVER DASH BUT LET’S FUCKING GO.
SO. ROCKET, RIGHT.
We know what happened between Jay and them. But we also know that Jay is just One Dude. When Aqua was disbanded (read: when Jay fled Hoenn because shit hit the fan and he didn’t want to get caught in the crossfire), Jay returned to his hometown of Goldenrod city, Johto, which is also one of Rocket’s main playgrounds. And while he’s just One Dude, he has other friends that are also fed up with the Big Red R and how it’s got fingers in nearly every pie. Corrupt judges, public servants, cops and TV providers, to name only a few, are a few of the things that makes that one crime syndicate so untouchable. And that’s where a few fed up people decided to hit first. Personal information and receipts were released to the public. Acts of vandalism were performed. Everything to start getting a rise out of the greater Johtonese population.
At first, it was a nameless movement. Just people deciding to take action, without much direction. Rallies, walks, unorganized action. Sure, it’s good to see people getting together to try and change things, but it needed... More.
Now, Jay is not a public person by any means, but he actually spoke up at one of those smaller rallies, and sharing part of his experience and views touched something within the crowd. Sure, from the beginning of this, he was just another anonymous rioter wearing a mask to hide his identity, but slowly, people started looking up to him, to the point where a group actually took form and named itself, and him too. Jay picked neither names, ‘Wildfire’ and ‘Fox’ being something that spread on its own after being thrown around a few times. And it’s at that moment that it started to gain traction.
Being thrust at the forefront of the movement, Jay and a few trusted friends had to start giving shape to it. Wildfire, unlike the ‘teams’ you meet in the Pokémon world, is not an overly organized movement. People who joined it come from all walks of life, and there’s no uniform, no membership, no pay and no secret base. Every single call to rally is a text message sent through a burner phone, within a few minutes to a couple of hours from the event. Everything is made so it is unpredictable and hard to track. It’s a group that’s scattered and hidden in plain sight, a group of ruffians, misfits, activists, anarchists, dreamers, vigilantes and people hungry for justice and revolution, ready to fight the power. Stirring trouble, encouraging civilians not to let Rocket get their way, giving the means of self-defense back to the people who felt wronged by the criminal syndicate that infiltrated the various power structures in Johto and Kanto. Graffiti, hacking, arson, theft, damage to property, releasing classified information to the media, even assault sometimes, but no casualties caused by them, no innocent harmed by them. Exposing people, dragging them out into the public eye. Everything to give Rocket a hard time and retake what belongs to the people — going as far as to admit that if they have to, they’re ready to actually topple more than just a criminal syndicate to get rid of it. Even if there has to be a stock market crash or if the socio-economic climate has to change.
With something this big, Jay has to keep his identity hidden for sure. Fox is an entirely different entity: it’s a symbol that people rally under. The Arsonist that lit the Wildfire, someone even say. Something that big is intimidating, and he makes sure that his identity is entirely secret and protected. Only a few people know of it, one of them even being some kind of Second Fox to make sure that Jay himself has alibies and can be seen somewhere while Fox is somewhere else.
In this verse, the fight takes place not only in Goldenrod city, but in Johto and Kanto. The climate is especially tense in Goldenrod city, where people know the movement originated, but the point of being scattered and mostly anonymous is that it can hit anywhere at the same time. And at some point, three-four-ish years down the road, because things like that need time to gain traction and enough manpower, and it takes time to clean trash out of some systems, the fight will be taken to a higher level. Because you can’t kill a hydra unless you go for the whole body—cutting off the heads is just a way of stalling for time.
And does Jay live for it? On one side, yes, he’s feeling like he’s accomplishing what he was always meant to do. On the other hand? Holy shit dude that’s some STRESS, he needs a break, he wants a break, can this be over please? Because we’re not excluding the thought that while Wildfire does its best not to cause casualties, Rocket doesn’t tend to have these principles.
GOD I SKIMMED OVER A LOT BUT THAT’S BASICALLY THE BIG BRAIN STUFF I’M DYING TO RP MORE OF AAAA—
#❞░▐ OOC;#❞░▐ HEADCANON;#❞░▐ THE MOST POWERFUL WEAPON ON EARTH IS THE HUMAN SOUL ON FIRE — WILDFIRE;#❞░▐ NO SMOKE WITHOUT FIRE — POST-AQUA;#ok i wont lie i squeaked#because i never thought id get an ask about this#it's so self-indulgent and i dont expect people to care#so thank you#thank you so much#189time#long post;
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Ship meme for El and Sam (any verse)
ULTIMATE SHIP MEME!
Send in two (or more) names and I’ll fill all this out about the ship!
General: Modern/TWD - I couldn't choose
Rate the Ship - Awful | Ew | No pics pls | I’m not comfortable | Alright | I like it! | Got Pics? | Let’s do it! | Why is this not getting more attention?! | The OTP to rule all other OTPs
How long will they last? - Well, both until their death obviously, but modern is a few decades (THANK GOD) and TWD is roughly 18-19 years.
How quickly did/will they fall in love? - Modern - they've been smitten for awhile, if not the whole time, but we like to torture ourselves with that slow burn best friends to lovers 10K words fanfic. TWD - literally weeks and only knew by each other's voices. It literally breaks me.
How was their first kiss? - MAGICAL. 10/10. Desperation. Chef's Kiss.
Wedding:
Who proposed? - Sammy boy
Who is the best man/men? - Modern - hmmmm maybe one of his closest coworkers? His dad?
Who is the braid’s maid(s)? - I don't know if she'd have any. Her brother is definitely up there with her
Who did the most planning? - I think El did a lot of the organizing of things, but they did it all together
Who stressed the most? - El, but she just stresses in general. They stressed about different things maybe. I think she stressed most in the beginning and he did getting closer to the wedding.
How fancy was the ceremony? - Back of a pickup truck | 2 | 3 | 4 | Normal Church Wedding | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Kate and William wish they were this big. - TWD - But I mean. It might've been tiny, but the church was BEAUTIFUL. Modern - Big, barn-like wedding or maybe at the cabin for that woodsy feel. AH. Beautiful.
Who was specifically not invited to the wedding? - Uh....cannibals?
Sex:
Who is on top? - Both, but maybe more Sam xD
Who is the one to instigate things? - Both are guilty in all verses.
How healthy is their sex life? - Barely touch themselves let alone each other | 2 | 3 | 4 | Once a couple weeks, nothing overboard | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They are humping each other on the couch right now
How kinky are they? - Straight missionary with the lights off | 2 | 3 | 4 | Might try some butt stuff and toys | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Don’t go into the sex dungeon without a horse’s head - I mean. RDR. That's all I gotta say.
How long do they normally last? - Depends on how much time they got haha. They're both sprinters and endurance runners hahahaha
Do they make sure each person gets an equal amount of orgasms? - Yes, but I also don't think they're trying to think about it much.
How rough are they in bed? - Softer than a butterfly on the back of a bunny | 2 | 3 | 4 | The bed’s shaking and squeaking every time | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Their dirty talk is so vulgar it’d make Dwayne Johnson blush. Also, the wall’s so weak it could collapse the next time they do it. - Basically no in between lmao
How much cuddling/snuggling do they do? - No touching after sex | 2 | 3 | 4 | A little spooning at night, or on the couch, but not in public | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They snuggle and kiss more often than a teen couple on their fifth date to a pillow factory.
Children: Modern
How many children will they have naturally? - One - their own personal Aurora Borealis
How many children will they adopt? - Well, they technically adopt a lot of fur babies in Modern haha
Who gets stuck with the most diapers? - El, but she doesn't mind. Sam is so good about waking up at night though.
Who is the stricter parent? - I think they both have their moments, but maybe El?
Who stops the kid(s) from doing dangerous stunts after school? - Hm. HM. Depends on the stunt lol. But probably El. Sam is probably the instigator lol.
Who remembers to pack the lunch(es)? - El writes her little notes and makes shapes out of her food. It's basically arts and crafts for lunch.
Who is the more loved parent? - Aurora is such a daddy's girl, but mommy gives the best cuddles.
Who is more likely to attend the PTA meetings? I think during the day, it's maybe El since she works at the school or in the area. But, Sam will try if he can get the time off.
Who cried the most at graduation? - They both definitely wiped some tears, El probably wept on the car ride home though. Proud parents.
Who is more likely to bail the child(ren) out of trouble with the law? - I mean. Her dad IS the law. So xD
Cooking:
Who does the most cooking? - Depends. Sam is an incredible cook, and they love cooking together. But, if he's working late, she comes and brings him his favorite or whatever she was experimenting that day.
Who is the most picky in their food choice? - I think they're actually both pretty adventurous in their palette. Plus, they literally can't be picky in TWD lol.
Who does the grocery shopping? - Mainly El if it's during the week, but they go together on the weekend or she'll text him to pick up something specific after work.
How often do they bake desserts? - Constantly. Once a week if not more.
Are they more of a meat lover or a salad eater? - Both. Maybe Sam's more of a meat eater, but El is definitely an omnivore.
Who is more likely to surprise the other(s) with an anniversary dinner? - Equally.
Who is more likely to suggest going out? - Hm. Depends. When do these two leave their house unless they need to haha. For milestone anniversaries and birthdays, they sometimes travel and road trip to the Redwoods or the beach.
Who is more likely to burn the house down accidently while cooking? - El, but both can get slightly distracted sometimes when they're cooking.
Chores:
Who cleans the room? - El. Blast some music and she'll go at it for hours.
Who is really against chores? - No one is against cleaning per say, but maybe they both would rather stay in bed all day instead.
Who cleans up after the pets? - Sam
Who is more likely to sweep everything under the rug? - Both have their moments.
Who stresses the most when guests are coming over? - El. Everything has to be perfect or she'll go bezerk.
Who found a dollar between the couch cushions while cleaning? - I don't know why, I feel like Sam would just be that lucky. But, El would be so excited like she's won the lottery about it.
Misc:
Who takes the longer showers/baths? -El. Sam is the master of the quick shower, but not when El's around lol.
Who takes the dog out for a walk? - Sam did! But, when then they made it a habit to take Seamus on a walk together. Pumpkin obviously comes and goes on their own accord.
How often do they decorate the room/house for the holidays? - Every. Single. One. El goes overboard for holiday decorations and projects like that. Every season. All the decor. Probably has a HomeGoods credit card for those coupons.
What are their goals for the relationship? - Perseverance. Intimacy. Never go to bed angry. Communication. To love without effort and love even more when it needs effort.
Who is most likely to sleep till noon? - EL aka the night owl since she's so used to working late nights. Definitely not a morning person. Sam is fluent in her groans in the morning.
Who plays the most pranks? - Both do definitely in Modern. Maybe even more so when they have Aurora who likes to tag team.
@mettleborn
#mettleborn#sam: tell me the story of how the sun fell in love with the moon#[sam & eloise: desert flowers and dandelions]#would literally die for them
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PTA II
[Trevante Rhodes x Reader]
Word Count: 2.4k
Angsty Fluff
Part 1
Looking at your desk, you wonder how it’s gotten even more junky since working from home. A rainbow of notebooks and sticky pads scatter its surface with reminders and past lesson plans that beg for organization. You pick them up in clusters, doing a vague clean up as you check the clock on your computer to see you have ten minutes until showtime. Your kids will be logging in for their Zoom classroom to begin.
You’re starting a new chapter on the Civil War today and although you knew it like the back of your hand, you freaked out at the moment, not able to find your presentation in any of the appropriate desktop folders. Unfortunately your virtual desktop was every bit as messy as your physical one. Clicking through the dated lesson plans, you finally find what you are looking for, opening it to prepare for sharing as your breakfast sandwich dings in the microwave. You meander through the obstacle course of your living room to grab your meal to go, almost burning your hand from its fresh heat as you sit back down, just in time to start off the lesson.
“Good Morning class! Happy Monday!”
“Good Morning!” They all say in scattered succession, your greeting back.
You dig right into the lesson at hand with dates, names, places, and all that is in between. The kids were assigned a chapter before the weekend to prepare for discussion and luckily most of them seemed to have at least skimmed the topic beforehand.
“Ok guys, now we have a few more minutes before I have to assign this week’s project, so does anyone have any questions?”
One young man, Nemour raised his hand. “Yes, do you think, um, like could this happen again, do you think?”
You couldn’t hold back the gag on your face from the insightful question. “That’s a good question. And I know it really fits with some things that are talked about in politics today. I won’t say that it never is going to happen, but I also will not scare you into thinking that it will. Civil Wars are happening today in countries all over so it is not a subject that is new or forgotten. But use the events that lead up to it and think about what we do that could avoid the conflict or what are tells that signify that war is imminent. Thank you for that question Nemour because it segues us into this week’s project…”
Displeasure washed across several of your students’ faces but you have been blind to that behavior for years now so you began the rundown: three page essay on any aspect of the Civil War they may choose.
“You may email me and we can discuss your idea and if it is a topic that can fill three pages. I want a citation page, credible sources. See me if you need a review on what a credible source is. I will see you again tomorrow guys. Be safe!”
The blips of each person signing off is your background noise as you put aside your notes once more, dropping your pen in the process.
You pick it up and hear something in the background of Nemour’s video.
“Nemour?” You call out the student’s name but they must’ve forgotten to sign off. You begin to hang up yourself, when someone comes into frame.
“Nemour, I told you to clean up your room before school started so I could get this laundry done, damn!”
You recognize the shirtless man strutting with a laundry basket under his arm as Trevante Rhodes, Nemour’s dad. You had a run in with him before that left you more than flustered but you stuck to your morals to ensure nothing came of it. Luckily, Nemour’s been doing well and no one has messed with his things, so any teacher-parent meetings are only the ones required by the school.
“Ahh ah ahh ah ah AHHHHH! Caught up in the rapture of love…” He sang out loud, setting the basket on a table to free his shoulders up for some bopping.
You can’t look away and didn’t dare end the session as the show was just getting started. Trevante rolls his shoulders, pumping his fists victoriously in rhythm with the song. You take a bite of your breakfast sandwich covertly appreciating the show.
“I love you here by me/ You let me love fly free…”
He spins around quickly on his toes ending on a pose before the next verse. His body is an artist’s dream with each flex he made. You could tell before that he is a fit man but nothing beats seeing the evidence unadulterated. His thick torso kept steady by his deep abs, kiny hair peppered across his chest for flavor. And those arms, what can be said about these family style, thick cuts-
“Ms (Y/N)?” You snap out of your inner study and forget you are in full view of him seeing you. Hanging up abruptly flashed through as an option but it made no sense now you were caught.
You shuffle some papers as he takes out his AirPods and comes closer to the camera. “That is you!”
You look up in feigned surprise, coughing up your previous bite of sandwich. “Oh, Mr. Rhodes! Did Nemour forget to sign off. Oh well, I was just going to-”
“Nemour!” Trevante yells out. The soft patter of feet become louder.
“Yeah?” he asks.
“Your teacher is waiting on you, whatchu doin?”
“No no! I wasn’t waiting!” You say fervently.
Nemour peeks over his dad’s arm. “Hi Ms (Y/N). Did you need me?”
You smile disingenuously. “No, I was just about to sign off. Just don’t forget that project, ok?”
“Yes ma’am.” He runs out the room as his dad calls out.
“Talk to me about this project when I’m done talking to your teacher!” Trevante takes a seat, looking pleased with the predicament. You are mortified, sitting your your head in your hands.
“So...how you been? You look well.” Trevante says with an enthused smile.
You look to him and return a tight one. “Thanks. I can’t say I’ve done much of anything but good to know I don’t look worse since our last talk.”
Trevante leans forward with his chin in his hand and you try not to imagine sinking your teeth into it. “Please, you’re blessed to not need much. Natural beauty.”
You take in the compliment with an inhale. “Sure, thanks,” you say, noticing a spot of jelly landed on your chest, probably after that last bite. You rub you chest to get the tiny stain out.
“Wow, that looks damn good,” Trevante says when you’re done.
You hold a hand to your chest, gasping in outrage. “Mr. Rhodes! I really don’t take kindly to forward comments referring to my body!”
Trevante purses his lips together, resting his chin on his fist. “I...meant that sandwich. I can see it below there.”
Your mouth hangs open staring from the sandwich to the meal in front of you. “I am...so sorry...”
“Don’t worry about it. Hey, how was your date?” he asks quickly with a forgiving look.
You think of his question with confusion before you realize that you had brought up meeting someone on Valentines Day after the meeting with him last time.
“You remember that?” You ask, slightly impressed.
He nods. “Of course. I’m that kind of person, receptive to information and it sticks. That’s why Nemour so good at school, gets it from Daddy.”
“Good to know. But the date didn’t go as well as I hoped it would…”
Trevante cocks his head to the side inquisitive. “Huh. Where’d y’all go?”
You roll your eyes automatically. “He told me to meet him up at this mom and pop diner, which I’m not stuck up! If the food is good, I’m practically down for anything!”
“Ok, ok, so what was the problem?”
“He knew the family that owned the place, so his meal was free. We ordered like a late night breakfast thing and it wasn’t good. My food was both bland and overseasoned and the eggs I asked for were runny when I wanted a hard scramble.”
“Oh no,” he shakes his head.
“And in the end, even though his meal was paid, I had to pay for mine because he’s ‘in between things right now’. Then I had to give him a ride home and he offered his bed to me since his mama was asleep on some Xanax.”
Trevante rears his head back covering his mouth with his fist during his hoot-and-holler. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to laugh, but that was pretty damn bad.”
You laugh graciously. “I know, but he was cute and I swear he seemed to have more potential than most other guys on the apps so maybe it was just a bad day?”
“You are giving these playas too much credit! And apps? Shoot, you could pull any ole dude off the street on a Tuesday just taking out the trash.”
“Mr. Rhodes-”
“Trevante works. Sometime Tre, sometimes Te but hold the Mr. Rhodes for me, please.”
“Fine, but only on here, I can’t call parents by their first names in public, it’s just too formal for me.”
Trevante gets a sneaky grin on his face, scratching his beard stealthily. “So, you want to talk to me on here more often?”
Your jaw drops, aghast. “Mr… Trevante, I never said that. You’re always putting words in my mouth.”
He shrugs. “I’m sorry. It’s just so pretty, I can’t help but wanna hear it say things I wanna hear.”
You twist in your chair, barely composing yourself with his sly talk. “Wow! You never quit!”
“I will when you do!”
You face each other in a standoff over each other’s screen. He was slowly tearing down your walls as much as you tried to reinforce them with professionalism.
“Ok,” you say.
“What’s ok?”
You sit forward, building up the nerve. “IF we were to discuss things outside of schoolwork and your son, how would that go?”
Trevante rubs his hands together. “Well, first-”
You put a finger up. “Remember that I have a busy schedule with assignments and we are in quarantine so no way we could be in the same room or eat out.”
Trevante looks off into space, thinking. “Ok, so when do you usually turn down for the night?”
“For bed? Probably ten if I am lucky.”
He nods, rubbing his chin philosophically. “What are you having for dinner?”
“...probably this pasta thing I picked up at the store…” you say reluctantly.
Trevante claps his hands together. “That’s it! Ok, I gotta go but let’s talk later, aight?”
Before you could question him further, he hangs up the video call. You sat there pondering what just happened. Trevante is pretty straightforward with you but that ended on an unusual note. And then you began to think back to his smile and body and laugh and compliments, making your head curl toward your lap with giddiness.
“God he is so fine.”
Later that evening you are laid across your couch in full snuggy mode: bonnet on, pimple cream where needed, tshirt and titties freeballing. You set your reheated pasta meal down to cool and look through your emails one more time before calling it a night. You have more than one concerned parent who will message you at ungodly hours about why Timmy and Jane aren’t getting an A+ average and their stress allows you to sleep peacefully as you’re reminded how unbothered you are since students make the grades, not you.
As usual, there is one new unread message to check out and of all people it is Nemour’s dad. No subject line, but the body of the email asking you to log on to video call him.
This was sent almost an hour ago, so you feel pretty secure that he is not on and let your curiosity lead you to the app.
Not long after, you get an invitation from Trevante.
“Hey!” he says, smiling wide (this time with a shirt on) after you accept. You begin to smile back but catch a glimpse of you in video and feel instant regret.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, slurping some spaghetti up.
“I forgot what I looked like, I should’ve waited to talk in the morning,” you say apologetically.
Trevante waves a hand at you. “Don’t worry about all that. You getting ready to wind down, right?”
You pick up your dinner and show him on camera. “Pasta and all.”
“Great, so the date is on! How was your day since we last spoke?” he asks, slurping more spaghetti and taking a bite out of some garlic bread.
You scoff, poking at your penne. “So this is why you didn’t answer me? This is your plan for a date?”
He holds his hands out humbly. “A brotha gotta try. You so busy and remember we are in a quarantine so I can’t have you coming here with those beautiful germs of yours.”
“Wow, sure ok. Throw it back at me. Got it.”
You take a bite of your pasta as ladylike as possible, giving a rundown of your day which wasn’t much to take note of as Trevante noisily slurps his spaghetti making you laugh.
“What’s up?” he asks, wiping his mouth.
“I...well your meal looks better than mine. At least you make it look better.”
He licks his lips before smiling, lighting your spirit as you smirk into your food.
“What can I say, I get down in the kitchen when I can. I wasn’t bout to heat up some frozen mess and call that a meal, you know? I gotta eat real food!”
You drop your fork. “Ok, Mr. Anita Baker! I know when I’ve been disrespected!”
Trevante gets nervous having offended you. “Wait wait! My bad, ok?”
You point at him with all authority. “My food is my business.”
“No problem, I’ll hold back, but not too much on Anita. And maybe I’ll order you some DoorDash or something next time.”
“If,” you warn.
Trevante gives you a playful face. “If not, I’ll just tell Nemour to quit doing his homework and we can conference about it.”
“Oh bye, he’s too smart for that!”
Trevante laughs. “You probably right. Look, I don’t mean to push, but I’m glad you made time to see me here tonight.”
His eyes look at you genuinely pleased and you feel that familiar giddiness creeping up.
“I’m glad you invited me. Just this little bit is better than my last date, so points to you.”
Trevante stares at you contently. “You know if we were outside, this is when we’d kiss.”
You look up to the ceiling. “Here you go!”
“I felt the moment! Don’t lie!”
You look at him defiantly. “Too bad we won’t know until that time comes.”
He wags a finger at you. “See? You keep thinking these are conversation ending phrases, but you baiting me. So there’s a next time ahead of us! Hit me up for a Netflix Party and Chill.”
“Good night, Te,” you say exasperatedly.
“Have a good day at school tomorrow.”
You hang up first and sail backward, laying across your couch feeling like you ran a marathon. This could all still be forgotten. You aren’t too deep to deny him. He called this a date but come on, did it count? You sit up to poke at the remnants of your meal and think about his lips slurping up the spaghetti hungrily. And the kiss that would have sent you to bed happily.
Part 3
Masterlist
Tag
@chaneajoyyy
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Plain Sight (Part 3)
A/N: okay okay biggest sorry ever for not posting last month. Started a new position at my job and then had to deal with some miscommunication that made me believe I was gonna lose that position. Thought I had COVID twice (no matter how safe you are you are always in danger) and that threw me through a loop. Then I started college and that was a whole crazy thing, so my August was anxiety filled and very demanding. So sorry, so I will be posting twice this month to finish this part.
MASTERLIST
PREVIOUS CHAPTER
We had Detective Martin round up all the other officers to listen to our profile. They all sat, ready with their pens and paper as Gideon began to talk.
“The Unsub brought his weapons with him. Tape, glue, wire. He did not leave them at the scene. He took them when he left. He has a kind of killing kit that he carries.” Gideon informs.
“Organized killers usually have a skilled job, likely technology related, which may involve the use of the hands. The crime scenes are far enough apart that he needs a vehicle. This will be well kept, obsessively clean, as will be his home. He’s diurnal, the attacks occurred during the day, so the vehicle may be related to his work, possibly a company car or truck.” Hotch continues.
“We believe he watches the victims for a time, learns the rhythm of the home, knows his time frame.” Derek adds on.
“You’re not gonna catch him accidentally.” Hotch says.
“He destroys symbols of wealth in the victims’ homes. He harbors envy of and hatred toward people of a higher social class.” Gideon says, walking towards the murder board.
“He feels invisible around them.”
“Class is the theme of the poem which he left at the various crime scenes. At one point in the poem, the woman attempts to bribe death, but he doesn’t accept it. He says this is the one moment when riches mean nothing. When death comes, the poor and the rich are exactly alike.” Spencer explains.
“So he’s poor.” A Detective asks.
“Probably middle class.” I answer.
“A decidedly lower class person would stick out in a highly patrolled neighborhood. This guy appears to belong there. He blends in.” Hotch elaborates.
“Why does he glue the eyes open?” Detective Martin asks.
“The Unsub is an exploitative rapist. Most rape victims close their eyes during the attack, turn their heads. For some rapists, this ruins the fantasy. For this type of rapist, the goal is more related to the victim watching him than the act itself.” Elle explains.
“He wants them to see him, he is often overlooked. The open eyes give him that satisfaction.” I add.
“The verses the staging, the aggressive language, “I am Death,” this is a guy who, while being in control at the crime scene, almost certainly feels inadequate in the rest of his life.” Hotch explains.
“That’s why he couldn’t wait for you to figure out what he’d done, why he needed to make sure all of his crimes were counted. His victims, they represent whatever it is that’s controlling him, and he wants that control back. He is under the thumb of a powerful woman who frightens him. And a final point. He is white.” Gideon clarifies.
“We have witnesses that identify him as a black male.” The same Detective argues.
“The attacker was black. He is not the Tommy Killer.” Gideon tells him.
“Mrs.Gordon’s husband came home at the same time that he always does. The Tommy Killer would’ve known that.” Hotch adds.
“And Mrs.Gordon’s attacker wore a ski mask. The Unsub knows when he walks into a house, he’s going to kill the woman who lives there. If you’re not leaving any witnesses, why wear a ski mask?” Elle asks rhetorically.
“And he wants the victim to see him anyway.” Derek adds.
“The attempted rapist is a garden variety disorganized young man.” Hotch explains.
“As the victim’s age goes up, generally, the attacker’s age goes down. Mrs.Gordon is about 60, which puts her rapist at about 20.” Elle informs.
“And it takes years to develop the level of calm and sophistication that Tommy displays at a crime scene, and the rapist is far too young for that.” Gideon says.
“Mrs.Gordon told me that there’s a young man who delivers groceries to their home. He fits a lot of what we’re describing here.” Elle adds.
“Great. So we’re back to zero on Tommy.” The Detective sighs.
“Not at all.” Hotch objects.
“May I see you in your office for a moment?”
They walk off.
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We had located Marcia’s rapist. Elle, Derek, and I were sent to go arrest him. He was walking back to get something from one of the trucks when Elle and I turned the corner.
“FBI. You’re under arrest.” Elle states, he then tries to run for it but Derek already knew he was gonna run and cut him off.
“You’re under arrest for the attempted rape of Marcia Gordon.” Derek tells him.
“What?!” He questions.
Though this was our rapist, he wasn’t out Tommy but this was the only way we were gonna get Tommy to contact us. We pull up as JJ is giving a press conference, just as planned. Morgan pulls him out while Elle and I follow through the crowd of reporters to get into the police station. Hotch meets us as we walk in and Elle tells him that he had already confessed. Our plan was moving accordingly. One bad guy off the street and so close to the other. We just had to wait. We were just waiting at this point. I was sitting across from Spencer and next to Derek, who had just angryily slammed his phone down.
“Chill, Derek. He will call.” I say calmly.
“I know Little One.” He sighs leaning back.
I knew better than to talk to him, and chose to listen to Elle and Spencer.
“God, I hate waiting like this.” She said.
“Do you think it’s weird that I knew that ballad?” He asks playing with a Rubix Cube.
“I don’t know how it is that you know half the things you know, but I’m glad you do.” She answers.
“Do you think it’s why I can’t get a date?” He asks again and my heart pangs. If only he knew how many women would kill to be with him.
“You ever ask anyone out?” She asks back.
“No.” He replies.
“That’s why you can’t get a date.” She says simply.
“I’m sure there is someone waiting for you to ask them anyway…”she winks.
What does she mean by that. Her? Does Elle like Spencer. No no no, Percy. She does not. Maybe she means JJ. God it is definitely JJ. I mean, they were totally flirting and he was checking her out at his birthday thing and ugh-
The phone rings.
“Detective Martin. Hey,hey” he says grabbing our attention.
“Line 6, Penelope. Line 6.” JJ says.
“You stupid incompetent sons of bitches! I don’t make mistakes! I am Death! You hear me?! I AM DEATH! You’ll see now. Tomorrow. Mark my words, you will see. And while I am taking her, I’m gonna be thinking of you.” Tommy shouts.
JJ asks Penny if she got anything, but sadly she got nothing. Confusion was all around. How could we miss him. We all sigh in defeat. My nerves begin to rise. He was so aggressive and his threat was so terrifying. I couldn’t breathe, luckily Spencer was there. I couldn’t really register it but I knew his hand was in mine. I breathe in and out for a bit, look at Spencer and I am okay.
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It was a very restless night for everyone. Elle and I could barely sleep so we occupied ourselves by watching whatever shitty movie was on the TV. I eventually got an hour or two of shut eye but it was all I really needed.
“We have an undercover car for each of your teams, and the entire damn department out there, too.” The Chief said.
“Remember a truck. Maybe a work truck, in excellent condition.” Gideon says.
“Everyone knows.” The Chief says.
“All right, he might make a mistake today. He’s angry, and he probably hasn’t done the kind of surveillance he’d like.” Hotch informs us. We all nod.
“Yeah, well, neither have we.” Derek adds coming up next to Spencer and I.
“Let’s go Reid, Chase.” We follow him out.
Derek drives us to our lookout spot. It was mostly quiet and I was two seconds away from sleep. I thought those couple hours were enough but the warm air and the birds singing was lulling me to sleep. At least until Derek sighs.
“It’s 10:30 already.” He says.
“All he said was tomorrow. He didn’t specify morning.” Spencer says.
“For all we know, he could strike later in the day.” I add.
“This guy’s gotta spend a lot of time in that house. A lot. He needs it to be morning.” Derek says. Spencer looks around.
“Are we sure this is a good spot?” He asks.
“Three of the victims lived within a block of this street. It’s the main artery through the neighborhood.” Derek answers.
“True, but three victims in the same block could mean he’s done with the area.” Spencer suggests.
“Or that he’s just really familiar with it.” Derek charges back.
“And comfortable in it.” Spencer adds.
“But then, on the other hand, the other victims lived more than a mile in either direction.” Derek continues.
“Right.” Spencer says.
“God,” Derek says, hitting the wheel.
“I hate not having a plan. We’re looking for a needle in a haystack here.”
“Spencer would argue a needle in a pile of needles.” I say, Spencer looks back and smiles at me. I know him so well.
“What?” Derek asks.
“A needle would stand out in a haystack.” Spencer explains making Derek laugh.
“And we’re not looking for someone who stands out?” Derek starts.
“No. We’re looking for a particular needle in a pile of needles.” Spencer further explains grabbing his binoculars.
Derek looks back at me smirking. I roll my eyes and feel my face heat up. I punch him in the arm, lightly of course, as a way to tell him to shut it. He just laughs. I rest my head on Spencer’s seat causing him to look back and smile at me. I couldn’t take my eyes off his face. He did his little smile and went back to looking out. It may very well be a long day but I was with my favorite boys so it didn’t matter.
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TAGLIST
@thesailbells
#criminal minds#criminal minds series rewrite#spencer reid#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x oc#criminal minds imagine#spencer reid series
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PatB Oneshot: A Whole New World
AN: Well I did have an angst story in mind which I do have a basic outline for but I feel like I gotta balance some of the more despair-driven stories with some fluff.
I decided to use a HC I posted a few days ago: That Pinky would serenade Brain with A Whole New World. Just with a small modification to help the story flow better. Cause it’s cute and adorable and just let them be happy please.
FFN
Pinky loved endings. Happy endings, teary endings, pencil endings. They were just fun to chew on even if they left a rubbery taste in his mouth!
And when Aladdin and Jasmine kissed on a starlit night filled with fireworks and flew off on their magic carpet, it was so magicafantastical! Or was the right word beauwondersicle? And then the moon turned out to be the Genie the entire time! He never would’ve guessed!
The moon outside was just as big and beautiful as the one in the movie, except it was made of cheese instead of genies. And there was a funny face in the cheese too. Maybe a moon mouse carved it so earth mice would have something to laugh at and brighten up their nights!
That was really kind of them to help cheer Brain up. And hard work deserved a reward! What kind of cheeses and scented soaps did moon mice like?
Making a gift basket would have to be number lollipop on his to-do list though. For now, there was a lovely reprise of A Whole New World. It was such a romantic song, and it didn’t take long before Pinky was swaying and humming along to Peabo Bryson and Regina Belle’s vocals.
The counter was a magic carpet, and the walls twinkled with countless stars. Pinky let his movements flow like a gentle breeze, making sure to keep his limbs tucked inside the magic carpet at all times.
A body cuddling close, warm compared to the cool night air. The warmth spread through his chest, making him tingly and melty and a thousand other things at once, like the time he’d tried plugging a broken cord from one of Brain’s whatchamajigs into an outlet and gotten shocked. Only this was a good tingly and not a painful one.
“Pinky, put me down at once!” a hand clamped around Pinky’s snout and yanked insistently.
Pinky stood on his tiptoes as the song went into the next verse, and the next tug made him slip and tumble. Pinky laughed as his face smooshed against the countertop.
There was an ‘oof’ from underneath him, which was a strange sound for his tummy to make. It usually made more of a ‘gurgurgur’ noise.
“Zort! Tummy, you’ve got it all wrong!” Pinky scolded. “You’re supposed to growl and grumble like something that’s good at being growly and grumbly!”
Pinky had eaten his dinner during the movie, but his tummy growled anyway.
“That’s a good one, tummy! You sound almost exactly like Brain!” Pinky giggled. He arched his back, bending his head so he could get a good look at his tummy, but sneezed when his nose brushed against the fur on Brain’s chubby head.
Brain scowled, fixing Pinky with his best warning glare. “Pinky, if you don’t let me up in the next five seconds, I shall have to hurt you after I finish hurting you for pulling me into your ridiculous dance.”
Pinky stepped aside and helped Brain up, giggling at how Brain’s face resembled a tomato. Brain could turn his entire face red, and Pinky wondered how he could make his own face turn different colors. Maybe a nice indigo? That was his favorite crayon after all.
And so were aquamarine and periwinkle and scarlet and maroon and…well, picking a favorite crayon was harder than he thought. They were all fun colors!
And a sharp pain to his head let him see even more colors. Olive green, smiley face yellow, and there was even a pretty chartreuse!
“Narf…” Pinky murmured, transfixed by all the swirling hues.
Pinky stumbled, landing flat on his face again. After a few seconds, his head stopped swirling and he could see Brain setting his pen down and trying to rub the red out of his face.
“Zort! I saw so many colors! You should try it sometime!” Pinky exclaimed.
Brain shoved his hands into his pockets, and Pinky remembered that he kept meaning to ask Brain about that because he wasn’t wearing pants.
“I’ll have to decline your offer, Pinky,” Brain replied, his fur back to its usual white. “I’m still debating if I should be more concerned about the objects you put into your mouth.”
“Don’t worry, it was just food pellets. We’re all out of moldy cheese and lint balls, remember?” Pinky said.
“Thank you for proving my point,” Brain muttered as he hit the off button on the remote. The cheery music from a car commercial faded away.
“You’re welcome, Brain!”
Brain grabbed Pinky by the arm and half-dragged, half-led him across the counter to where a notepad was propped up by a stack of books for supersmart mice. Great pictures, but how did x get lost from the rest of the letters and wind up in Numberland anyway? It was a mystery that Pinky still hadn’t solved.
“It’s time to focus on tonight’s plan,” Brain declared, lightly tracing a series of music notes with a pencil. “We’ll broadcast our hypnotic emotional song across the airwaves. This song contains lyrics with double meanings designed to pull at a human’s natural curiosity. They’ll have to listen many times in order to understand what I desire to accomplish, and with each repetition, the suggestion will continue to grow until every human on earth comes to the lab on bended knee and a willingness to make me their ruler.”
“Egad, Brain! Brilliant!” Pinky clapped his hands in delight, grinning when he caught a small lopsided ‘I know I’m smart’ smile on Brain’s face. “Oh wait, didn’t we already try this with Spinatra?”
Brain waved his hand dismissively. “Already accounted for. I was too concerned with vocals in that plan. The background instrumentals will have a much more important role this time. I’m even including a swelling crescendo and key change towards the end.”
Pinky gasped. “That poor croissant! It needs cream to help with that swelling!”
“I need cream for the headache you’re inevitably going to cause,” Brain sighed.
“Does this mean you’re singing again? Can you sing it right now?” Pinky asked. “Cause I love it when you sing, Brain!”
Brain squirmed, the redness creeping into his face again. He was funny about singing, acting like he didn’t enjoy it. If the world ruler thing didn’t pan out, then singing would be a great back-up career. Pinky could just picture it!
Brain Maine, the blond international singing sensation whose stage name was a US state for some reason who dealt with normal people things like being a genetically altered lab mouse in his private life!
“We’ll broadcast the song over the radio,” Brain said, avoiding Pinky’s eyes while he busied himself by adding several squiggly lines into the margins around his lyrics. “Yes, this plan requires me to sing. As for your other question…”
He trailed off, mumbling something Pinky couldn’t make out.
Pinky raised a hand to his ear, wondering if he needed to clean it again. He could never find the Q-tips though. “Sorry, Brain. Didn’t quite catch that. Did you say they’re making Goodnight Moon into a Jelly Belly flavor? Because I don’t think paper and jelly beans go well together, poit.”
“No, Pinky,” Brain scowled. “I’m at an impasse. My lyrics are thought-provoking and profound. My notations are highly technical and intricate, logically designed to invoke a strong emotional reaction in listeners based on precedents set by great composers and music theorists in the past. But for all this excellence, I haven’t been able to organize my lyrics into a configuration that will appeal to the auditory pathways.”
Pinky blinked. He knew Brain liked to hide behind big words. That was just how he played hide-and-seek, like how Pinky enjoyed hiding in a paper towel roll. “That’s a lotta big words, Brain. I just want a teensy tiny sneak peek of the song. Unless you still need time on that part. That’s okay, I’ll just run on my wheel while I wait.”
Brain sighed as he crossed out several music notes. “Precisely, Pinky. I’m well-versed in being objective. However, objectivity falls short when a plan hinges on people’s…feelings. The final product needs to be emotional, but I can’t induce a reaction until I know what sounds will produce a maximum effect!”
He threw down the pencil and kicked it away.
Pinky tilted his head, taking in the numerous edits spread over the page. Brain really poured his heart out for these pretty-looking words. Like his heart just tipped out of his chest and he was trying to cover it up again while scolding it for being visible in the first place. And being upset because he couldn’t find the tune for his heart’s song.
Wait…
A heartsong!
“Just like the penguins who saved the South Pole with the power of tap dancing and singing and Robin Williams!” Pinky exclaimed, grabbing Brain by the shoulders. Brain tried to shrug him off, but Pinky clung on. “Brain, that’s what you need! A tune for your heartsong!”
“Pinky, now you’re just babbling,” Brain said, crossing his arms and leaning back as far as he could without falling over. “And don’t describe my hard work as a ‘heartsong’. You’re making it sound like sentimental sap.”
“Sounds delicious!” Pinky replied. “But all you need is just a little inspiration, Brain! Let me help you find a tune so you can feel everything and help the world feel your song too! Please with a maraca cherry on top?”
“Maraschino cherries, as much as it pains me to acknowledge such a childish form of pleading,” Brain corrected. “I assume you’re not letting this, or by extension, me…go until I indulge you.”
“Nope!” Pinky said.
“Very well. I resign myself to whatever you have in your unconventional mind, Pinky.”
O – O – O – O – O
In the end, the setup was just a stereo and a Disney CD with their most popular movie songs. Pinky had decided against wearing his fedora, since Brain didn’t seem to care for his Donald O’Connor impression very much.
Since the CD case had a coffee stain on it that prevented him from finding the song number, Pinky took a moment to listen to the first few notes of each song before pressing the next button. As much as Pinky loved Hakuna Matata, it just wasn’t what Brain needed right now. He’d save that one in case they ever got dropped into the jungle again. It took about nine, or maybe twelveteen tries before Pinky found what he was looking for.
Satsified, Pinky paused the song and turned back to Brain, who was drawing several neat lines on a yellow sticky note.
“What’s that, Brain?” Pinky asked, leaning over Brain’s head for balance so he could get a closer look.
Brain tilted his head to the right and Pinky slipped off, laughing when he landed on his elbow. “I’m setting up my notes, Pinky.”
“We only need music notes, Brain. Not notes-notes or sticky notes,” Pinky said. Sometimes Brain could be a little confused. Why would he need notes for his heartsong?
“Oh yes, Pinky. How silly of me. The notes will just magically write themselves after all.”
Well, of course they would write themselves. But Brain still wouldn’t budge from his sticky note and pencil.
So Pinky decided to resort to drastic measures.
“Chase me!” Pinky shouted, snatching the sticky note and pencil from Brain and dashing around to the back of the stereo as fast as he could while his paws were full. There was an angry growl from behind him, but Pinky had a good head start on Brain. Normally, Pinky slowed his running speed to give Brain a fair chance at catching him, because it just wasn’t fun if the chaser couldn’t catch up to the chasee.
But this time around, Brain would need to listen closely to his feelings, whatever they were. And he couldn’t do that with notes that weren’t music notes.
“Give those back, Pinky!” Brain yelled, rounding the corner just as Pinky stuck one side of the sticky note into his mouth and grabbed a knobby thing from the back of the stereo, hauling himself up with one paw clutched firmly around the pencil.
“Not ‘til after the song!” Pinky meant to say, but it came out more like ‘nafthang’ because of the sticky note. Brain’s paw clamped around the middle of his tail and threatened to pull him down when he was halfway to the top. Pinky clung to his handhold tightly, keeping his legs spread for balance.
The tip of Pinky’s tail flicked against Brain’s nose, and Brain’s grip loosened. Encouraged by this, Pinky let his tail go wild, brushing it against Brain’s eyes, nose, and fur. Pinky glanced down just as his tail lightly danced around the outside of Brain’s ear, watching Brain let go to bat the rest of the offending appendage away.
Brain really did resemble a white and red tomato with ears now that Pinky had a top view. Pinky couldn’t enjoy it for long though. Quickly pulling himself to the top, Pinky laid the note down, taking a few seconds to spit the sticky stuff out of his mouth. Then he braced the pencil against the handle, making sure it wouldn’t roll away.
“I hope you’re happy,” Brain muttered, crossing his arms as Pinky hopped down. “I wouldn’t be so tolerant of your antics if I didn’t need this for research purposes.”
“Oh, I’m plenty happy,” Pinky chirped. “Are you ready for the song now?”
“We’re delayed by ninety minutes,” Brain said. “I suppose I have no choice if this plan is to be implemented in time for morning rush hour.”
“Okey-dokey then! You’ll dance with me?” Pinky said, rushing back to the front of the stereo. His hand hovered over the start button, glancing at Brain for the go-ahead.
Brain opened his mouth to reply, but then it suddenly snapped shut again. He did this several more times, and Pinky realized he probably didn’t know what to say next.
Brain wasn’t familiar with non-smarty mouse stuff, though Pinky knew he could hand Brain a bunch of numbers and letters and squiggles and Brain would find an answer faster than Pinky could blink.
Pinky decided to borrow a page out of Aladdin’s book, making a mental note to return the page later, because what if Aladdin was reading it and the page was important to the story? Pretending he was Aladdin inviting Princess Jasmine onto his magic carpet, Pinky held his hand out to Brain.
“Do you trust me?” Pinky asked, giving Brain his best reassuring smile.
Brain just stared down at Pinky’s hand like it was covered in really icky goo.
“Do you trust me, Brain?” Pinky repeated.
“With certain things more than others,” Brain admitted after a long moment, slipping his hand into Pinky’s. “Remember, this is strictly for research purposes only.”
Pinky hit the play button, and a gentle piano melody flowed out of the speakers.
The lab quickly melted away and they were dancing on a magic carpet, a starry sky above and a bustling city below. Romantic music flew by, supported by a gentle breeze.
“I can show you the world-“
Brain jerked slightly, eyes wide as the wind sweetly sang about the world beyond the lab and domination. Pinky carefully reeled him in, helping him balance until he could find his footing again.
The world was bathed in silvery moonlight, and the shadows weren’t so scary when they flew by on their magic carpet. Pinky’s fur brushed against Brain, sending millions of tingly little sparks through his body as they weaved around brick and stone and steel, not wanting even a single building to interrupt their dance.
And they were going up, so high that Pinky could reach out and touch the clouds. He’d always wanted to dance on fluffy, cottony clouds. The ground was a million miles below, but Pinky wasn’t afraid. Brain and the magic carpet wouldn’t let him fall.
Then Pinky was tugged in a completely different direction from where he’d been trying to go, only for the step to be hastily corrected at the last second. Brain’s eyes flicked down when Pinky looked at him, so Pinky gave his hands a squeeze to let him know it was alright if he wanted to lead now.
Brain liked control, and Pinky wanted to return his efforts in kind.
With newfound confidence, Brain swept Pinky into a wide arc. Every step precise, every turn sharp. The world blurred around them, Pinky’s heart beating rapidly as he kept up with Brain’s commands.
Forests, oceans, deserts, and mountains disappeared into the distance just as fast as they came by. Pinky saw the sprawling Great Wall of China, the huge Empire State Building, the wavy Sydney Opera House, and numerous other landmarks he couldn’t remember the names of. All part of this world, and they would belong to Brain someday.
Brain’s breathing grew heavier, coming out in little puffs of air, and Pinky’s throat felt tight. Tight like he’d just run so fast, so far, without stopping to catch his breath.
The lab came back into view, the last of the stars fading into the dark walls.
The stereo played the first line of I’ll Make a Man Out of You, so Pinky turned it off. They weren’t ready for a fast-paced training montage.
They headed back to their cage for a much-needed drink of water, and Brain guzzled down nearly half the bottle before letting Pinky have his turn. While Pinky drank his fill, Brain’s attention returned to his notebook, filling in the pages with renewed vigor.
“Did you find your heartsong, Brain?” Pinky called, rushing over to find a bunch of music notes and squiggly lines that hadn’t been there before. “Zort! That’s a lot of circles!”
Brain drew several more lines, filling the spaces with even more music notes. “Whole notes, Pinky. I’m including several long ones to help enhance the emotional quality of my work. However, there’s one significant change I’d like…no, need to make before we broadcast it over the radio.”
Pinky waited, noticing that Brain swallowed a very huge gulp down his throat. “Um, Brain? I think something’s stuck in your throat. Are you okay?”
“Iwanttomakeitaduet,” Brain mumbled.
Pinky blinked. “Is that another big word?”
“I said I want to make it a duet, Pinky!” Brain shouted. Then he took a moment to rub his big head, sighing heavily. “Apologies.”
“Gesundheit,” Pinky grinned.
Brain paced around, murmuring to himself. “Hydrogen bonding. A hydrogen and oxygen atom forming a bond…no, it’s more covalent than hydrogen. Hydrogen bonds are weak unless there’s millions to create surface tension. Covalent bonds are much stronger. And a duet is chemistry in lyrical form, showcasing the singers’ covalent bond-“
“I can’t wait to duet with you, Brain,” Pinky declared, pouring every ounce of feeling into his words as he could. “What am I singing?”
“-like carbon with hydrogen, or even just two of the same element. And you’ll need to know your part. Of course.”
Brain copied the song onto a separate sheet of paper, then grabbed a pink highlighter from a drawer and drew it across two verses and the refrain. Pinky’s parts in pink for easy remembering! This was gonna be a fun plan!
“Pinky?”
Pinky looked up from his paper. Brain was half-turned to his notebook, half-turned to Pinky.
“If you want to know how I felt earlier, the best description I can think of is…weightless.”
He felt happy feelings when Brain’s eyes gleamed in triumph at an idea. Scared feelings when he was trapped in a maze without Brain to guide him. Sad feelings when Brain yelled and grumped and cried because he thought Pinky didn’t want to be with him anymore.
And weightless feelings?
Pinky thought of dancing in the sky and the rush of happiness he felt when Brain took the lead. Cuddling together if the lab grew too cold, listening to big words, imagining what they would do when Brain took over the world.
“That’s a good feeling to have, Brain.”
“Yes, Pinky. It is.”
AN: I think I’ve listened to way too many 90s love songs. I tried watching the Pinky POV to help me get into Pinky’s mindset, and wow that episode is weirder than I remember it. I’m sorry, but Pinky was visualizing a thong on Brain I don’t know what to say that XDXDXD
So, references. I’m not very good when it comes to pop culture outside of animation, musicals, and animated musicals but yeah. Robin Williams voiced Lovelace in Happy Feet and of course Genie in Aladdin (we don’t talk about the live action one here). Pinky would totally love the concept of the heartsong.
Honestly, the Brain Maine thing came about because I was thinking, ‘hey, Maine rhymes with Brain’. That’s it. My mind just be like that.
Donald O’Connor sang Make Em’ Laugh in Singin’ in the Rain, which the segment Just Say Narf parodies.
And of course, Aladdin, but that doesn’t bear repeating here I think.
I need to find a new song now. I lost track of how many times I listened to A Whole New World in the past few days.
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Sound of Rain by Solange from When I Get Home
There’s a moment that happens deep in the bedroom after a long, adventurous night of partying. After those type of nights you may fall asleep in your socks, or your bra, or in your jacket depending on how many shots you had. This moment, floats upon that tide of rest before it overcomes you, alone with the silence in the bed, or on your forehead as you roll over from the sex that capped the night, the sweat coming down across you in long drips, cooling as both your breathings go up and down in long breaths. As you lay there in the judgeless bed, the sleep curling the edges of your day-thoughts like children’s notebook stickers, you think back on the night, the images fading in and out: the taste of the lips, the smell of the bathroom, the way the heat felt on your hand as it rose up between thighs. The moment made up of moments, is played incomplete in your mind, like a movie’s film reel projected onto rainfall. And although this moment with the fading thoughts of the night might have a deep resonance and could go on to contribute to that moving history that is yourself, they are fleeting thoughts ultimately, lacking in a central density. Solange’s fourth album When I Get Home is like this moment: songs with suggestions of images and warming half-memories shifting, glittering and thrown against each other; it’s just an album that is thick, changes shape and floats away from you slow like blunt smoke.
The key producers here are Knowles herself, along with John Key and John Caroll Kirby, who colour her melodies with snaking synths and dense moog in the tone of Music of My Mind-era Stevie Wonder. This core is helped out on some songs by past collaborator Dev Hynes, along with Metro Boomin and Pharrell. They expand on Solange’s thoughts, and fill out the sound with drums that can paint the album in Trap Soul largesse, skittering hi hats and all, or in a sloppy post-Dilla cool. The songs by themselves are great experiments and vamps, and they work really well in most playlists you can construct. In fact, on some points of When… it sounds like Solange is mimicking the chopped up voices you hear on Hip-Hop mixtapes themselves. She sings in a lower tone when she repeats a line, or distorts her voice into a screwed texture, layered over the beat, deepening the vibe. Her songwriting itself is simplistic to achieve this, none of the structure of the upbeat, polished Pop-Soul of 2008s Sol-Angel and the Hadley St. Dreams. Instead, she would find a phrase or word and obsess on it until it’s rendered into all vibe here.
There’s “Stay Flo,” a twinkling lullaby loop anchored by its head-nodder beat, Solange at her best here, rapping in a tossed-off cool, then whipping up a wall of harmonies. “Way to the Show” has two blocks of chants repeating into a mesmerizing, near-meditative groove, meanwhile “Almeda” has a great energy to it, with a trunk-rattling bass and the hi-hat proud and on display, Solange in a trance over a rambling piano and an undone synth, chanting “brown liquor, brown skin, brown face,” and “Binz” is this sparse, atavistic funk, Solange’s voice echoed and assured as she toasts over the skeletal banger like a 21st century Sister Nancy.
Any of those short, punchy, groove-based songs work individually, but it is when they are experienced as part of a whole that a lack of density in emotion emerges, because some of the songs are little more than riffs on a groove, with words composed in situ, than anything planned out. There is no problem with a song being created after a session of loose improvisation –some of Marvin Gaye’s best songs came about that way –the problem is when that process is still seen there in the final product. “Dreams” is airy and undercooked, a cloud of soma passing over and away, “Beltway” is a soft nocturnal harmony that sinks into the background, while “Time(is)” just drifts by on islands of breathy coos, her words barely there, almost blowing away over the snaking moog. And although there is this raw immediacy to the song, Solange’s searching excursions for melody don’t always land. That said, the song is saved by a wonder of a coda where the tempo changes, the piano gets more agile now, Solange gets more assured, this time obsessing over the line “you gotta know, you gotta know,” repeating it into an aural fabric. Some drums kick in, and Sampha then weaves his aching baritone around the mantra like a tree limb.
Whereas, “Sound of Rain” is when all these experiments and techniques coalesce in service of a crafted song, in a way that it all came together in “Losing You” from 2012s True, and “Cranes in the Sky” from her commanding A Seat at the Table(2016). It is anchored by an echoed sample disappearing into ripples that bring to mind the famous water drop sample from Jeru da Damaja’s 1994 Hip-Hop classic “Come Clean,” except there the water drops were used to convey a menace, some mysterious, approaching doom. Here, it washes the song in a calming soundscape the way that rainfall itself does so effortlessly, while the bass moves underneath in heavy thumps. It’s a seductive sound, made more so by Solange’s erotic come-ons. Her voice, forever in the shadow of her sister’s in terms of power and range, is well suited to this quiet storm created. She breathes the words in soft staccato impulses into your ear the way a lover does when they want to leave the party with you. The melodies are light and memorable, curling around the synth lines, and, at the end, when the beat becomes chopped and screwed into a dreamy space-time fabric, Solange uses her gift for riding the beat in scatting riffs and half-words, sending the song (and by extension the album) off in a beautifully self-assured and reflexively black fashion.
Solange is zoning out on the beat, questioning the need for movement forward in songs with her shamanic repetitions and heavy-bottomed grooves of these songs that eschew traditional soul structure of verse chorus verse, and instead boils the songs down to their elemental melody or idea, throwing these ideas at us one after the other, attempting to create a tessellated whole greater than the sum of its weed-tinged, burnt ochre parts. This results in a warm, adventurous yet inconsistent listen. At its best times of weirdness it is reminiscent of the spacey, brutalised beats of 2006s Olesi: Fragments of an Earth by Georgia Ann Muldow, the chants and organs of Alice Coltrane’s Transcendence from 1977, or the more quiet, curious passages of Journey to the Secret Life of Plants by Stevie Wonder (1979), with snippets of conversations, political references and remembered lunch-time chants from childhood thrown in. In the end though, the dearth of solidly structured songs to take these ideas to fruition with a big chorus or revealing lyric, creates a moment that is floating and restless, the way dreams are, all wrapped up in this artsy but tempered, black middle-class sophistication; it’s just a modern-times Madvilliany for Spelman girls.
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Quarantine Questions
Tagged by the lovely @pikapeppa ! Here we go:
Are you staying home from work/school?
Sadly, I work at a hardware store, which has been deemed "essential", so I'm still going to work as usual. Thankfully it's died down since our governor issued a shelter in place order last week, but for a couple of weeks, it got freaking crazy. I guess people just can't live without their gardens for one year.
If you're staying home, who's there with you?
My cat is staying patiently at home for me, as always, and my roommate, an older woman, has been self-quarantining the way she should. (Good on her, I say. We're still getting our regulars at work who are popping in three times a day for tiny purchases, or to just chat with the store manager, like everything's normal, and that's driving me bonkers. Especially because we're in between roughly five retirement communities, so most of our clientele is high-risk. And since I work retail, I don't have health insurance, but I can't tell people to go tf home.)
Are you a homebody?
Oh, gods, yes. If I didn't have to work, I'd be doing just fine staying holed up in my room right now. A friend who's much more social than I am asked how I was holding up, and I had to be honest and said "Things haven't changed all that much for me--I go to work, I come home, I hide from the world, I hang out with no one." INTROVERT FOR THE WIN WUT WUT
What movies have you watched recently? What shows are you watching?
Let's see. Before my Netflix got turned off (one of the perils of leeching off of someone else's account), I binged The Letter For The King. Before that (before things got really bad, but when we knew it was coming) I finished another re-watch of The Witcher and Queer Eye. In the last few days, I've watched Into The Spider-Verse, The Gamers: Dorkness Rising and The Gamers: Hands of Fate.
An event you were looking forward to that got cancelled?
I was supposed to have my panel interview to get into the local electrician's union on March 19th. That got cancelled five days before it was supposed to happen. They're not predicting the union hall will open again until April 26th at the earliest, so if I'm lucky, I'll finally get my interview in May. Why'd a pandemic have to happen the year I decided to finally get off my ass and get my life back together?
What music are you listening to?
I've been on a folk kick lately, and dance remixes of folk music. I found this really awesome remix of Drunken Sailor which I can't stop jamming to. Also the PotC theme, and some good ol' electroswing.
What are you reading?
Slowly working my way through Tevinter Nights, thanks to @kittimau sharing a link in the Rowdy Scouty Discord. I'd prefer a paper copy, but I'm old-school like that, and at least with it on my phone, it's super-portable. I'm also trying to stay caught up on my favorite fanfictions. (What am I gonna do when Winds ends? *sad*)
What are you doing for self-care?
Keeping my room clean (it becomes a Depression Mess real easily, so I gotta stay on top of that), working on various crochet projects that have been abandoned (plus my commissions from before the plague), going through the bins in my closet to try to get those organized/consolidated and to find my witchy supplies, making sure I go for walks still (and lemme tell ya, social distancing is the best thing to ever happen to my walks--for the first time in years, nobody acts like I'm the weirdo for not saying 'hi' to strangers and giving them a wide berth as I pass). I'm trying to exercise more actively beyond walking, but there's so many other things to do. I'm also staying active on social media, making sure to chat with my friends both near and far fairly regularly, and honestly, otherwise just living life as normal. I rarely left the house except for essentials before all of this, so I haven't had to change much about my life since. I guess I'm lucky in that sense.
Have a COVID-19 selfie, since that's what all the cool kids are doing:
Fight the plague, but make it fashion
Tagging @schoute, @lostinfantasies38, @lyrium-lovesong, @sharkapologists, @cornfedcryptid, and anyone else who wants to play!
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