#But with fan artists it's easy to assign blame

[oifaaa]

I want to strangle Ian Wayne. Who tf thought that was a good idea??

Imagining making Damian Al ghul Wayne actually say the lines "I hate the name Damian I want to be called Ian" DC actually hired someone to write that in one of their preteen graphic novels

[mazyb0i]

Other RnM fans?

Rick n Morty fan creator/artist here, trying to make friend brohs with ppl who are also obsessed with the show. I have a hard time reaching out due to my anxiety. (proshippers DNI)

tldr; you're also a neurodivergent queer artist nutjob that makes crackpipe art an shitposts, heavily kins a character at one point or another, and we should be friends because we can be insane together LMFAO

Fav show ships: BP x Rick all day, (I love flesh curtains, and their dynamic is just so yes... I...) Morty x Alaska (i named the vat of acid gf Alaska because the Alaska trip..) Summer x that one girl... Morticia X Jessica, Rickcest/ Rick selfcest is aight, I obsess over Miamicop. I think selfcest in cloning / multiuniverse theory is harmless, but don't come at me with any of that proshipper/inc3st/rickorty shit. I will block you, report you, and put you on a DNI beware list; this is a threat & a warning. That shit is never EVER ok.

if we become friends/wanna know about;

I'm diagnosed Audhd, I'm a transmasc demiboy, I like to be referred to as nonbinary and a transgender male with He/They pronouns. Panromantic Demisexual.

I'm a rick kinnie, just means I identify with rick, in another universe I could be him XD, I relate to him, we share the same personality literally (ENTP 7w8); he's my self identifying comfort character. But my big interest with this show/comic is probably due to some kind of autistic hyper fixation and imprintation.

Hobbies: Crafting, Digital illustration, Fursuit /Costume making, Youtube, 3D designing, Making silly video skits, Writing, Character design, Shit posting, Creating ai voice bots for fun n fandom purposes (will make le memes), Trying to be a youtuber like Imbrandonfarris and Britany Broski, collecting stuff, VRchat, Collecting fluffy soft shit like stuffies, pillows, blankets, and hoodies. I SLEEP IN A NEST OF ALL OF THESE

Personality?: Chaotic, Unhinged, Tired and fed up with this shit, All the Energy AND NO ENERGY, I'm so tired please god help me, i'm an enigma. Ambiverted. If ur looking for a cool crazy cat dude broh who draws weird ass digital art and is always tired but jacked on coffe, adderall, and Naproxen i'm your guy.... :'}

I do alot of art and have alot of burnouts due to my adhd- I've been told I'm  innovative, clever, and expressive. I can jury-rig your glasses easily with a paperclip if you're screw comes out and loose frames causes the lens to pop. I'm very detail and idea-oriented, i come up with thousands of ideas, questions, and theories. Because of this, I tend to come up with one idea after another without actually going forward with plans and actions because i get so overwhelmed with my massive brain XD

Even tho I'm socially awkward, I love people, I want to make friends. I like being alone a lot but I hate feeling lonely. :C When I get to know you I'm very very chatty; as long as I'm not too tired or piled with heaps of assignments. I would say I'm pretty laid-back and easy to get along with, I get so stuck up in my personal world up in my head that I lose sight of important things around me, I blame the adhd. I'm an observer, I like to watch and see how things happen, I am a very hands on person.

I'm constantly learning, i love science with a passion. I got hyperfixated on evolution of different animal clades a while back. I am immensely curious and focused on understanding how the world operates and functions. I'm looking for mental and intellectual stimulation, lettuce skip casual conversation about wheather- whats your favorite dinosaur? (fuck ignore my dyslexia) and before you say a pterodactyl let me stop you right there- they aren't dinosaurs. if you like understanding the world through learning various things about science, technology, or culture, I'm your guy. but I'm also just a silly hoo hoo aah smart ass.

god this is finally done... I've been writing this for an hour......

[stuckinapatriarchalbullshitland]

Stuck, Lauren and her team messed up, let's be honest. She could've warned people way before, giving her fans more time to change their plans. There are people who had already booked plane tickets and hotel rooms only to see her and they may not be totally refunded with such short notice cancellation. Also, the way it was communicated was awful. We found out through a fan account first and we got an email before she posted about it. I get why people are mad.

No. I'm sorry, but no. They were not to blame. Not this time. You were not at the Zoom meeting where she explained that she was unable to announce the changes earlier because the tour organizers in the assigned countries did not confirm to her earlier and that confirmation had to be in writing.

It's not easy to make last minute changes to a tour that takes months of planning. Months and that is if the artist is lucky and works with a good budget behind. Lauren is independent and doesn't have the same benefits as a mainstream artist. She has to stick to what she can afford, anon. It's not that simple.

I understand what has happened to the fans in Brazil, but I also understand Lauren's situation. That's why I didn't like what they did to her because I'm sure that if she could have, she would have done things differently.

I think it is possible to help the fans in Brazil by making collections. Or organize to help with those losses, I don't know. But it is possible that something can be resolved.There are things that are simply not in the hands of artists and this was one of those situations

[acaifike]

the sad truth about taylor swift

as someone who spent their youth idolizing the woman, i was once in a place where i would consider taylor swift my hero. i was astounded by her beauty, the eurocentric features she had that i as a black person envied at the time. i was inspired by her work ethic and in awe of her talent. i didn’t care about her dating history, or where she was from or the genre of music she made. i myself have always been a girls girl ( now enby but you know what i mean ). the older i got though the connection i had to taylor disappeared and i often credit that fact to my journey of self love for me being a black person and being more proud of my culture. i now know that fact is only a part of it. taylor swift’s career post red era has been about two things. her rebrand and feminism. taylor spent a lot of her early career dealing with misogynist in her business telling her about the people she dated as if any of thats their business. and yes i believe that feminism is something great to talk about and women deserve support and need to be fought for especially after everything women and people assigned female at birth go through. my problem with taylors feminism is that, she only includes one type of woman when shes advocating for women. the white cis-heterosexual able bodied woman. feminism is suppose to be something to aid all women and help women achieve equal rights and respect both socially and in the work place but when you’re only advocating for white womens rights then you start teetering on white supremacist territory and thats an issue. i could go in depth about how i’ve never seen her advocate for black women and other women of color and i’ve actually infact seen her blame men for something when she could’ve used her platform and called out what was wrong. to be more specific nicki minaj was not nominated for a mtv award when it came to best music video for anaconda despite the video having more views than all the nominees. nicki minaj called out mtv and used taylor and another artist as an example and taylors response was “maybe one of the men took your spot” instead of saying yeah i totally see what you’re talking about you did great and your video was impactful ( which is was it was the biggest music video drop of that year ) and you deserve to be up here. but she didn’t, instead of rallying behind nicki as an actual feminist would do and support her as she called out an industry that was being biased against black women specifically. taylor just took the blame off of herself. which to me is very problematic and not feminist at all, blaming men for everything may be fun in jokes but sticking together is going to get things done. my next problem with her is her anti blackness issue. taylor claims to be someone whos politically woke and wants to speak up for the voiceless but i’ve never seen her defend a black person or a person of color ever. i’ve actually seen her enable her fans to harass a black actress for a line in a tv series. a line the actress did not write. if she had a problem with the line ( which is understandable it was lame and sextist ) she should’ve called out the writer which is really easy to do instead of being hyber aware that her attack dogs were bullying black women and doing nothing about it. as well as her whole feud with kanye. yes what he did was wrong and stupid and he totally deserved to get told about himself. victimizing yourself for the past 10+ years cause he hurt your feelings, really ? also being aware that he struggles with mental illness and insisting on getting into it with him publicly sometimes provoking him and then hiding your hands after throwing rocks. i just thing sometimes taylor can be racially insensitve and if she wants to be this activist like she claims to she needs to stop getting into it with mentally ill black men in their 40s and victimizing herself and start advocating for bipoc people around the world who are actually struggling. i have never seen her comment in her support of black lives matter or supporting asian americans when they were expierencing a rise of hate crimes this year. last but not least. all to well. all too well was a short film on her “Taylors version” album and i watched it and felt so bad for her cause nobody deserves to be gaslit like that. as well as no 30 year old man should be involved with a 19 year old i don’t care if its legal its weird. but i also got to thinking. taylor has had her fair share of relationships where she was the adult and the person was either freshly 18 or a minor. she was 20 with taylor launter and i think he was 17 and connor kennedy was either 17 or freshly 18 and she was 22. so i think her understanding what happened to her was wrong but doing this is, actually bizarre.

these are just my thoughts though.

[aspiringwarriorlibrarian]

Where do you stand in the whole "consuming media made by shitty people" thing? Should one avoid them altogether, is it okay to enjoy them as long as you are not giving them money or the fact that a lot of people will give them money anyway make any decisions you make completely meaningless? I have heard many different opinions and honestly i have no idea what to think.

Honestly? It's more complicated that that. The majority of media made by shitty people are made by people long since dead. JKR is a case where she's made it clear that she believes any support of her media (even non-monetary) is support of her transphobic beliefs and has used her social capital to stay relevant and push her transphobic agenda, hence ignoring her media is deplatforming her. I generally take that stance on most people, when there is a single person to blame who I do not want to give my money even if I like their art. Film and tv series are more complicated, because despite the "one great creator" myth they like to push, it's art made by a large group of people. If those people's careers won't suffer by me boycotting the film based on a director or actor, I'll pass it by and not give them my money. If they do, I might reconsider.

On the other hand, it's a simple fact that cancel culture hits smaller, more vulnerable artists a lot harder than it hits the mainstream. A small-time author will receive much harsher criticism for a minor instance of ableism than a major author will for making sexism an inherent part of his magic system. People like an easy target no matter how absurd it is. Just take Isabel Fall's story "I Sexually Identify As An Attack Helicopter", where she cunningly turned a transphobic meme into a satire on the sheer absurdity of assigned gender, and in response got a lot of horrifically transphobic harassment directed at her, a trans woman, for alleged transphobia. The simple fact is internet harassment cares more for "easy to hurt" than it does for "genuinely deserves not to have a platform" and thus you have to seriously consider whether this is worth your boycott.

The final thing, which pisses me off the most, is this idea that art made by shitty people must be inherently shitty in return, and anyone who was ever enjoyed it must be a shitty person in return. Because when you hear that someone has used their platform to perpetuate bigotry, of course the most important thing is to pull the hipster "well I never liked it anyway" and smugly gloat about how smart you are, because it's easier to hurt the fans than the artist. It also perpetuates the opposite idea, that good art makes someone a good person, which has let so many predators escape justice because clearly they're too nice, too emotional, too artistic with such deep feeling in their art that they could never do anything so monstrous outside of it, which is how Woody Allen and Roman Polanski still have platforms and fans because if you like the art then you must like the person too.

The short version is, if a person is shitty enough that I don't feel comfortable giving my money to them, I don't. Maybe my singular boycott won't mean much, but it means something to me. At the same time, don't fall into the trap of assuming that the art tells you something about the person, or that shitty people can't make good art, because that's just waiting to be reversed into real harm. And always do your research beforehand, especially with smaller and less known artists, because you don't know if it's genuinely a shitty person or an internet harassment campaign based on nothing but malice and bigotry.

[phantomphangphucker]

Phic Phight: [REDACTED] “Oh Goddamnit. DANNY!”

Prompt Creator: @mr-lancers-english-class

Even Danny’s school projects cause ghostly issues and Lancer really should have seen this coming.

Alright fine, Lancer knew this was a bad idea. He knew it. And yet... here they all are, with each of his students doing their self-chosen presentations. And as he should have expected, Every. Single. One. has been on Phantom. Sure at least there’s been some variety. Star’s piece on his fashion and how that reflects on his personality and the era he died was actually fairly interesting (if it wasn’t for the fact that Phantom spiced up his jumpsuit with t-shirts and whatnot sometimes then this would have been a very boring one). Kwan also surprised him some, apparently he’s spent the past year or so sneaking photos of Phantom eating and did a piece on Phantom’s rather peculiar food tastes (who dips their pickles in milkshakes???) as well as effectively providing proof for the existence of ectoplasmic food (there’s no way any earth apples are neon green on the inside). Dash’s wasn’t even correctly calculated, trying to figure out how far Phantom could throw footballs based on his known strength and if he could kill someone by tackling them (disturbingly the answer -regardless of Dash’s bad math- was decidedly yes. Daniel seemed particularly disturbed). And Paulina’s was quite literally a badly written self-insert ship fan fic; the added drawings of what their child would look like only made it worse (Daniel left, not that Lancer could blame him. Lancer’s also glad for the ghost fight interrupting the presentation). Emilie’s was... disturbingly about ghost hunger and purposed the thesis that Phantom, for the good of the town, should eat the aggressor ghosts (he actually had to cut her off for getting too graphic).

But the single most interesting thing was that a ghost apparently caught wind of this and literally Every. Single. Presentation so far had words that were permanently replaced with [REDACTED], which, needless to say, caused some chaos when Samantha gave the very first presentation.

-

Lancer clicked his pen, crossing his legs and resting the evaluation sheet on his thigh, “alright, Samantha. Feel free to start whenever you please, though soon would be preferred”, by ‘preferred’ he had meant required, but no need to be mean. He chooses to ignore the goth teen's eyeroll.

Predictably the projected screen doesn’t work when she opens her file so Lancer has to spend ten minutes fiddling with the outdated tech that they wouldn’t give the school funding to replace. Eventually, he does get it up and running showing Ms. Manson’s title screen reading ‘Phantom And Hate Crimes Against Blood Blossoms’. Lancer’s positive ‘blood blossoms’ are a type of flower, figures she would do something nature-focused. She’d make for a great herbalist or botanist someday. He does catch Daniel and Tucker giving her ‘death glares’, as the kids call it, though; Samatha doesn’t look any less smug. The second page has what he thinks was supposed to be a detailed drawing of a flower but it’s severely pixilated, almost as if it been blurred; Samantha looks visibly upset so he’s going to assume something when wrong with the file or pasting format. He’s not marking on artistic capabilities though, so effort is effort there.

She quickly clicks to the next page, where the actual writing of the assignment is and looks decidedly pissed; Lancer even quirks an eyebrow since at least two-thirds of the words are a very bold noticeable [REDACTED]. Lancer watches her yank out her physical copy while glaring with murderous intent at Daniel -Lancer will have to dock him marks if he messed with another student's project- before looking at the physical copy in bafflement for a few seconds. Half the class shrieking when she drops the papers and basically launches herself over the desks at Daniel, “OH YOU LITTLE FUCKER!!!! HOW THE FUCK!”.

Lancer’s sighs and stands, “language, Ms. Manson”, moving to pick up the papers and quirking an eyebrow over them looking the same. Sighing again and eyeing Daniel, who’s being choked -or throttled perhaps?- by Samantha yet is grinning innocently. “Daniel, messing with other students' work is against student policy”, sighing yet again, “and I’ll let Star go while Samantha fixes her document”, summoning up the blonde while glaring at Daniel. Some days that boy was more trouble than he was worth but he was also insanely bright and had a heart of gold. Lancer knows he’ll do good things someday, and that’s why he still tries with him.

Half the class is snickering or laughing now and Star is very clearly trying not to laugh as she sets up.

However, as soon as it opens up the class is met with a very familiar sight. [REDACTED] litters every single page; he checked. And Star’s physical copy was in the same state.

Kwan blinks, “okay seriously, what is going on”, before scrambling to grab out his own physical copy; the rest of the class going wide-eyed and following suit. Lancer just puts his head in his hands and sighs very audibly while shaking his head. Why could nothing go right? Sighing again as the class erupts into noise.

“Mines all weird too!”.

“Same here!”.

“Okay there is no way Fenturd messed up everyone’s work”.

“And I actually tried on mine! It was about the merits of Phantom getting armour!”.

“Oh damn do we just get auto hundreds now? Please please please say yes”.

“Oh damn, Phantom would actually look awesome in armour”.

“I know right”.

“Can we just skip class entirely now?”.

“Oh my Zone a ghost messed with or work”.

“Holy Shit”.

“Wait! Wait! Wait! You don’t think Phantom did do you?”.

“Why the heck would he do that? How would he even know??????”.

“Oh I hope Phantom was inside my computer. That would be so hot”.

“Oh I don’t know, maybe someone told him or he overheard shit. He’s a ghost, he can be invisible. Heck, he could be here, right now, invisible”.

“Invisible and laughing at us”.

“No! No! Hold up! What if he doesn’t want us writing about him or maybe someone wrote some sus shit and he just nerfed us all for good measure”.

“That would mean Phantom totally read my stuff, aw Hell yeah man. That was some boss shit”,

Lancer sighs and stands up, “alright that’s enough”, sighing again because why did this have to happen to him, “and I apologies for blaming you earlier, Daniel”.

Samantha snaps, “oh no, I still blame him”, and continues glaring at the teen. Lancer suspects Samantha would continue blaming the boy even if it was firmly proven he wasn’t at fault.

Addressing the class again, “here’s what we’re going to do, you’re going to read off what of your projects you actually can and allude to the rest. Please reframe from repeating what you know was there beforehand as I’d rather not have whatever ghost responsible -Phantom or otherwise- come here pissed off”, glaring at few students who look slightly encouraged rather than discouraged by that prospect, “anyone who does will receive automatic zeroes”, ah and the encouraged looks have deflated. Good. Gesturing at Star, “you’re already up here, so do continue”. Better to not bring the clearly infuriated Samantha back to the front until she’s had some time to calm down.

Star nods and clears her throat, thankfully everyone quiets down. “O-okay, well, um”, gesturing at the screen, “I did my piece on Phantom’s sense of fashion and the cover image was one with him dressed in one of the Spook Sense stores meme shirts....”.

-

Lancer shakes away the memory, he honestly slightly regrets giving this project. But regardless right now is Daniel’s turn and Lancer is honestly slightly fearful of what his file is going to look like. Thankfully all their files were saved to his computer before the [REDACTED] debacle, so no one could go back in and edit theirs to add [REDACTED]’s for an easy grade. Lancer’s still not exactly sure how he’s supposed to mark assignments that were anywhere from one-fifth to one-third [REDACTED]. That word will be burned into his head after this grading period.

Lancer moves to find the boys file, but stares when clicking it crashes the computer. Not once. Not twice. But thrice. The fourth time rebooting the computer he inspects the file and is a bit dumbfounded, “Daniel, your entire file’s corrupted. The file type has even been changed to redacted, which I’m fairly sure, isn’t actually any possible file designation”. Everyone’s silent for a bit before bursting out into laughter.

“Just what the Zone did you write, Danny!”.

“Oh we so have to know what this is now”.

“Danny has the forbidden knowledge! We haft found him! The keeper of things forbidden and Ghostly! Haza!”.

“Ha! It was probably so lame that Phantom wanted to save him the embarrassment”.

Lancer sighs, but Daniel gestures Tucker up, “hey Tuck, feel like trying to fix the file”. Tucker chuckles and walks up, though apparently glaring at the boy. Based on Daniel’s smirk he finds this quite amusing.

Tucker does manage to make the file viewable at least. Lancer nods and leans back in his seat, “thank you, Mr. Foley”, while the file loads on screen.

Tucker sits back down with a head shake while Daniel stands at the front and gestures to the screen, “aight, as you can see from my not redacted title-”, that earns a couple laughs, “I did mine on Phantom’s portfolio of crime. Every single time our dear Phantom broke ghost law. Including such wonderful things as, that time he caused not one, not two, not even three, but five, prison breaks in one day. Or that time he invalidated a Observant spectator duel by bringing an inflatable sword”. Samantha slams a hand on her desk, “IT IS YOUR FAULT YOU DICK!”.

Lancer has some serious questions as Daniel clicks for the next page, the entire class going dead silent as a screen comprising of almost nothing but the word [REDACTED] shows. Lancer sighs very audibly. Eventually the class starts up again.

“Fenton... actually has forbidden knowledge”.

“If it wasn’t for the teacher computer saved thing I’d think he was fucking with us”.

“I mean... he is a Fenton, right?”.

“Okay the fact that this entire presentation is on ghost crimes is concerning alone. But they’re forbidden ghost crimes at that”.

“Shit I wanted the tea. Damnit”.

“Better question, how does Danny know?”.

Daniel clicking the button to go forward is very audible. And, Chicken Soup For The Soul, every single page is [REDACTED] to the point of being completely and utterly unintelligible. There are occasional lines pointing out how Phantom apparently ate confetti at a ghosts third wedding (which is apparently illegal for some reason) or that time he beat someone up with a violin that had a pie inside it (Lancer can see this one, Lancer himself has smacked a ghost with stranger).  Literally the only photo that isn’t blurred beyond recognition is one of Phantom in a prison uniform (Paulina was very vocal about liking men in uniform here). Lancer is absolutely positive the end of his conclusion ‘[REDACTED] are a bunch of [REDACTED]’ is an insult.

Samantha chucks a boot at his smirking face, “YOU IDIOT. Of course they were going to block you from talking about them. Ancients, I can’t believe you”. Tucker’s busy laughing into his hand.

“Oh my Zone, they know too”.

“They’re really earning that weirdo trio title, huh”.

Daniel snickers as he sits back down, “they broke into my room and wrecked that epic puzzle I was working on. They shoulda seen this shit coming. Literally”. Tucker snorts, “they probably did but couldn’t do anything else about it. They can’t stop you and your endless bullshit”.

“Damn fucking straight”.

Lancer isn’t going to claim to know what exactly they’re talking about but apparently Daniel effectively orchestrated this entire fiasco just to annoy some ghost. Lancer is honestly more impressed than disturbed. A for effort but an A- for making everyone's work nigh unusable.

End.

Prompt: For the last project of their senior year in high school, Mr. Lancer is letting his class do presentations on literally whatever topic they want. He is very, /very/ sure that this is going to go poorly, but that's a problem for later...

[serenityseventeen]

Love & Letter: To The Thirteen Boys I've Loved Before

The Sixth Letter

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

To: Lee Jihoon

From: Y/N

I'm sorry.

Jihoon, I will not blame you for anything. If I were in your shoes, I would have been even more irritated than you were. I'm still irritated, actually.

I know for certain that you probably hate me so I will begin this letter for you by reminding us of our good times when no one was there to butt in.

When we first met in tech audio, I was really surprised that you were a musical genius. You knew how to work the garage band app right away and since we sat next to each other, I could already tell that you were familiar with it.

You were also able to play the guitar and the piano. I've always liked music so seeing someone play those two instruments just fascinated me. Not only that, but you also played the clarinet well.

You've probably lived around music all your life, right? I listen to music almost everywhere I go, every day, it's one of my human needs, but I have to admit, even after learning a bit of piano from you, I still have almost no idea about music. Genres of music are still hard to identify for me and I can still barely tell the difference in chords. I'm still thankful that you took the time out of your worktime to help me understand more about music.

Honestly, when I first saw you, Jihoon, I was intimidated. You didn't like exactly friendly and I just stupidly thought that you were one of those ‘perfectionist’ students who only cared for their grades and being the best. Also, just the way you looked when you didn't smile gave me that impression. However, when you smiled, you looked completely different. You looked cute. We laughed a lot together too.

I bet you that on our first assignment, I must've looked like a complete tech idiot. The assignment was just to come up with your original piece of music by messing around on the app. Was my confusion that easy to see through?

I don't know, but I think the moment that you helped me was when I started to realize you as the person you are now. You taught me how to use the app in such a gentle tone, you know that? I still feel like I can listen to your voice forever and I won't get bored of it.

I was happy with our forming friendship. I felt like I could truly be your friend. Plus, we had one other class together so I was able to talk with you a lot about music. Everything you say fascinates me and makes me believe that you are a musical genius. I still believe that you are even if I can't hear your songs anymore.

Speaking of your music, I think you should become a ‘pro’ music producer, lyricist, composer, songwriter, of them all. Your talent in music is truly undeniable!

That first piece you showed me called “17”, I have to say that that song may be my favorite out of all the songs you've sent me. I still have all the music files stored in my phone and I'll never delete them. It's not because I still like you that I'm keeping them but it's because I like the song. I might put them into an mp3 player and stick them on the back of this letter. Out of the 13 songs you've shown me, there was not one that I disliked.

Your voice is also heavenly. I love it. I don't understand why you aren't getting yourself a whole career already! You don't know this but when I was playing your song “Rock”, my father was totally digging it! Even my next-door neighbor wanted to know who was the artist behind “20”!

There was also that time when you were helping me learn how to read music using the piano and our hands kept brushing against each other. Our shoulders were also glued together because the seat was so small. If your heart was racing just as much as how pink your ears turned, then please, believe me, my heart was beating twice as fast.

You didn't just teach me music and show me your creations, you also shared music that you enjoyed. A lot of the songs are still in my playlist. You have great taste in music too, Jihoon. I enjoyed every moment we spent just sitting at the window of the classroom, sharing headphones and listening to the songs you liked.

When they were love songs, I just couldn't help thinking that you chose the song for a reason. I'm quite an overthinker. I always thought that maybe one of the songs you showed me held your heart and maybe they did, but now I'll never know.

I'm your fan, Jihoon, even though you probably wouldn't want me to be anymore. I still admire you and I respect you a lot, that's why I'm deciding to write you this letter. I'm not going to get too close to you, I won't even try to bring us back to what we were because now, it's too awkward between us. I know that deep inside, you must feel so a deep hatred toward me, even if it wasn't entirely my fault.

I've realized what kind of person you are, Jihoon. You're kind, caring, talented in almost everything, shy, and stubborn. You love music. You hate it when someone who isn't close to you gets all up in your business as if they know everything. You also hate narcissists. You're selfless and humble.

I don't know who you told but I'm sorry. Your trust must have been completely broken. I mean, I can just imagine how painful it would be, being an introvert and telling someone your crush while trusting them to keep the secret only to have them spill it to the person's friends.

I hate my friends because they ruined our relationship but since they are my friends, I just can't abandon them as if we didn't spend years being best buddies. I've been distancing myself from them for a while now but I think it won't be long until we continue hanging out again. I want to hang out with you too but you must feel so... angry.

I heard that you're not friends with the guy who leaked the secret that you liked me. I truly hope that you can find a friend that is a true friend. I don't want you to live in fear and keep everything to yourself. I'll always be here for you though, so please, even if I don't speak with you, you can speak to me.

Gosh, what am I saying? It can't be fixed.

You must've overheard it when my friends dragged me away from your cafeteria table and whispered to me, “Did you know? He likes you!”

I was flustered and when I turned back to you, I still remember seeing your hands clench. That's when I sort of knew that we wouldn't be friends anymore.

Even after having your trust broken, you continued to hang out around me, which made me believe that if I confessed my feelings to you when the time was right, we could fall in love. So, I spent a lot of time learning about you.

That's when my friends came in again. They started teasing us in front of the whole class, saying all that stupid cheesy shit. I was ready angry and kept telling them to stop but they wouldn't because they just thought I was like them.

‘When you're in high school, you don't want the person in the relationship, you just want a relationship.’

That was not the case for me but that's what they thought. I wanted you, Jihoon. I was ready to teach you about me and get to know you better so that when I was ready to love, we would be able to stay together.

My friends are stupid.

They continued to pressure us to be together.

Knowing you, you must've gotten extremely annoyed and fed up with it, enough for you to end your friendship with me. And that's exactly what happened, right?

Each day, for a month, they came to our desks singing stupid love songs meant for children. They were so childish and I was growing so sick of it. I knew that you didn't like that shit. I knew that you were just enduring it but I couldn't stop it and I'm sorry.

We went through all that humiliation together. I think we could have had a better love story if your friend didn't leak your secret and my friends didn't act like children. I saw sparks in your eyes, that's why I had hope that we could fall in love together, but we couldn't even get ready to love.

I just remember that day when you ignored me. I was telling you that your piece sounded good and asked if I could get a listen, but you didn't reply to me at all. You still don't talk to me. It makes my heart ache.

When our friendship got ruined, I almost ruined my other friendships too. You don't know this but they kept pestering me, asking if you and I were finally dating and if we had a couple fight. They kept reassuring me as if they knew what we were going through and saying that it was just a small love fight and that we would recover soon. They didn't even know the problem was them so I yelled at them.

In the middle of the cafeteria, I slammed my hands on the table and shouted at them. I'm sure you heard me, you were in the same room. I'm pretty sure that you didn't know about this either but when I left the cafeteria in anger, I cried in the stall of a bathroom.

Now, I'm fine.

I wonder what you thought of me then. I mean, we still had to see each other but we didn't talk to each other like we were strangers. I was angry at you for not understanding me so I didn't want to speak or even glance in your direction, even if it did hurt to ignore you.

I think I know what you feel but all I'm thinking about your emotions are just assumptions in the end. You're a stranger to me now. A stranger that I loved.

You brought me the colors of music.

If only things didn't have to turn out so negatively. If only one friend kept his promise of keeping a secret... If only a group of friends didn't tease so annoyingly... Maybe then, things would be different.

Oh yeah, I'm sorry about this too. I overheard you playing a song the other day. Don't worry, I didn't record it but I cried to it. I just have a feeling that the song was about me. All the lyrics, the depressing but gorgeous sound of the piano, your emotional voice, it all brought tears to my eyes. Were you in pain?

I had never heard the song before. When I cried to it, I had my hands covering my mouth to keep noise from slipping. I don't know if you heard me because you just continued singing.

“Maybe I could have been a man

when everyone was telling me to.

But both choices were selfish,

keep you close or let me go,

so I chose

let's just not fall in love.”

I think your choice was for the better.

Sincerely,

Y/N

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

© serenityseventeen

6/21/21 - 11:01 am

a/n: sigh... I feel like this letter was so relatable on so many levels. My former friends were like that, always wanting a relationship but not the person in the relationship. They're too desperate. + ARTHUR KYEOM COMEBACK!??!? SVT CHINESE DRAMA OST!?!?

[out-of-jams]

One Chance || myg

(Amazing, incredibly badass banner made by @kimtaehyunq​ )

↠ One Chance ↞ Min Yoongi was a lot of things.

A musical genius, a guy with a bad reputation, your assigned partner for your final project.

And the last thing you ever would have expected.

Word Count: 7.4k

Warnings/Genre: College!au. Music producer!Yoongi x Singer!Reader. Fluff. Explicit language. Some angst. Mentions of alcohol. s2l. Oneshot.

A/n: Hey all you cool cats and kittens. Hope you’re all staying safe out there! I wasn’t intending to write this, but I had no other choice.

All of my works are purely fiction. Everything I write is my intellectual property and therefore belongs to me. ©out-of-jams. Do not copy or repost without permission.

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Min Yoongi.

The name stared up at you in size twelve font, black letters printed onto the white sheeted paper. Every other word on the page blurred around the edges as you tried to place a face to the name. You weren’t good with names, never had been. So with a sigh, you leaned to the side and mumbled to the girl sitting next to you in class.

“Hey, who’s Min Yoongi?”

She--Mira? Mina? something like that--glanced up from her portfolio opened up on the desk and shot you a disbelieving look. You couldn’t blame her, not really. It was nearing the end of the semester and your vocal class had worked with the music production class multiple times throughout the course of the year. Neither class was very big, so you probably should have known the names of all twenty students. Total. Ten in each class.

But hey, in your defense you’d had a lot on your plate, seeing as how you were about to graduate from university and all. Which was a pretty big deal, so memorizing the names of people you only saw a few times ever-so-often wasn’t high up on your list of priorities.

But Min Yoongi.

You recognized him the moment you saw the soft outline of his profile through the glass window of the studio door a day later. He had his attention trained on whatever was on his laptop screen, pale hand sliding across the mousepad. His dark brows were pinched in concentration and you could see the tip of his tongue digging into the side of his cheek.

Even though the overly-bright lights in the room were on, the guy still somehow managed to blend in with the slate grey walls. Hell, his icy blond hair was the only color to stand out amongst all the black clothing. The oversized hoodie and black joggers he wore looked comfortable, and had you glancing down at your own outfit self-consciously. Had the sweater, skirt and high heeled boots combo been too much? Should you have dressed down a little?

Whatever. It was too late now.

Watching him through the door made you feel like some kind of stalking creep, but you couldn’t help it.

You’d seen him around campus a few times and recognized him from whenever your classes joined together and was a little disappointed at yourself for not recognizing his name. Even though you'd never spoken a word to him before, you were a little apprehensive about being partnered together. Min Yoongi had a reputation, and not a very good one. Sure, he was talented at what he did, producing music, to the point where a lot of people in the music department called him a genius. But he was known for being standoffish. Rude. And could cut someone down with a few words from his naturally pouty lips.

You didn’t like to judge a book by its cover, or by the rumors that circulated about them. However, that did nothing for the intimidating aura that bled from the man like cologne the second you stepped foot into the room.

He didn’t even pause in whatever he was doing to spare you a glance. Just announced in a dry, rumbling voice, “You’re late.”

“Uh.” You hesitated halfway into the room, the door swinging shut behind you automatically. Two seconds in and he already hated you. Great. “Sorry. I got lost.”

That made him look up and watch as you pulled the only other rolling chair back from the desk and plopped down. God, his eyes were just as daunting as the rest of him: onyx in color and cat-like in shape, they were bottomless as he blinked at you lazily. And he slowly raised a disbelieving eyebrow.

“You got lost.” Yoongi repeated slowly. So sarcastically that you didn’t even hear a question mark at the end of it. “Aren’t you about to graduate? How are you still getting lost on campus?”

Your mouth opened and closed, embarrassed heat blossoming across your cheeks. You were blushing hard and you knew it, but that sure as hell didn’t mean that you had to acknowledge it. So you just sniffed and dug through your backpack for an excuse to break eye contact. “I haven’t been in here before.”

It was true. In a way. The hall of studios that you were in now were for the senior music production students. There was a completely different area for each year, but each student had their own assigned as theirs for the semester. So you weren’t lying when you said you hadn’t been to his exact studio before.

Which he seemed to catch on to, if the way Yoongi’s second eyebrow raised to join the first told you anything. But he let it go and turned back to shut his laptop, which you could now see was opened to a music production app. You weren’t very schooled on how to operate it, but even you could tell that he seemed to be very far into whatever it was he was making.

Though you didn’t get a good enough look at it before he closed it.

“Even though we have a month to do this, we should figure out what kind of song we’re making now instead of later.” Yoongi stated in that gruff voice of his and clicked a few things on his laptop. “Since you’re the one singing, you’ll be setting the tone--”

“Wait.” You interrupted.

Yoongi stopped whatever it was he was about to say to give you a blank look, the corners of his lips turned down. “What?”

Clearing your throat, you continued on despite the way his expression tried to cow you into shutting up. “How’re we splitting this up?”

A valid question. Not every person who created music worked in the same way. Some liked to do things a completely different way than somebody else might’ve. Last time you’d worked with one of the students from the music production class, the two of you had butted heads the whole way. He hadn’t wanted to hear your input at all, and you weren’t about to be shoved off to the side like some kind of un-opinionated mouthpiece again.

Yoongi made a noise in the back of his throat that sounded like a hum. “I normally make the track and leave the lyrics up to the singer unless they need help.”

He looked at you from out of the corner of his eye as he clicked a few buttons on the keyboard in front of him to bring the giant monitor above the control panel to life. “Can you write?”

“Yes.” The word left your mouth before you could even think about it.

“Good. You’ll take care of that then.” Yoongi slid a blank yellow notepad into the empty space on the control panel between you. “Though we’ll need to do the melody before that.”

The next time the two of you met was almost a week later. It’d been sometime late in the afternoon when you both finally had time in your schedules. Because for some stupid reason, even though both of your classes were combined to work on the project, it had to be done outside of class.

Ugh.

As if you didn’t already have enough things to stress over. Like say, securing a job for after graduation.

During the first meeting between the two of you, you’d already decided on what kind of song you wanted to make. Something upbeat, but not over the top, though not boring either. You weren’t a huge fan of sounding like every other music artist out there and apparently Yoongi had felt the same. So it’d been easy to come up with.

He’d texted over a few ideas for the concept and you’d been pleasantly surprised at how serious he took it. At how complex and layered the ideas he’d come up with were. They were a lot better than anything you could have ever dreamed up and you were beyond astonished.

Especially when he met you outside of his studio door, blond hair was secured back off his forehead by a white headband,  and greeted you with, “I finished the track.”

“Already?” Shock was clear in your voice and you watched open mouthed as he unlocked the door and held it open for you to follow him inside. The lights flickered on overhead, but you were too busy staring at his back to notice. “That was quick, holy shit.”

Yoongi shrugged off your awe and wiggled the mouse to bring his computer to life. “It was no big deal. And now we can work on the melody.”

Still gaping at the blond, you shuffled forward to drop your bag next to your chair. “Okay. Um. Where should we start?”

Pulling out his chair, he sat down and lazily dragged the mouse over to open up his production software. “Listen to it first and let me know if you want to make any changes.”

“Yeah, okay.” You plopped down into your own chair and watched as he pressed play.

The music that poured from the expensive speakers started off slowly until it tapered off into what you assumed would be the first chorus. And you found yourself unconsciously tapping your fingers against your thigh when the bridge finally hit, you had to bite your lip to contain an excited smile. The moment it ended, you twisted in your chair to see that he was already looking at you. Though he kept his face blank, you could literally see question lingering behind those cat-like eyes of his.

“Mm.” You hummed, nodding your head and trying your damnedest to keep the grin from your face.

When you failed to say anything more, Yoongi raised his eyebrows. “Mm?”

“Mm.” You finally let the smile touch your lips. “I really liked it. It’s good.”

“Yeah?” He reached out to stop the track from replaying on a loop. “Any changes?”

“Nah. I like it just the way it is.”

“Alright.” Was what he responded with, but you could tell that he was pleased beneath that hard exterior of his. “The melody then.”

“The melody.” You agreed.

Min Yoongi was extremely anal when it came to anything he attached his name to.

That was probably why he had so many music companies vying for his attention. Not only did he produce nothing short of perfect tracks, but he’d even made some cash on the side selling some of them. Or so you’d heard through the grapevine.

Which was exactly why you were left staring at the blank notebook settled across your crossed legs. The pen in your hand had yet to put ink to the blank pages hours after you’d gotten home. All because some guy intimidated the hell out of you.

Most of the songs you wrote were fine. But that was the problem.  

Min Yoongi didn’t do fine. And you had no doubt in your mind that he’d tear your work to absolute shreds should you present him something lackluster. Maybe you shouldn’t have been so quick to jump the gun and tell him you’d be fine writing by yourself.

It was way too late now.

“How long are you going to stare like that?”

Snapping out of your self-degrading thoughts, you turned to look over your shoulder. Jennie, your ever present roommate, was standing behind the couch shoving spoonfuls of cereal into her mouth. By the lack of makeup on her face and the messy bun her long black hair was thrown up into, she was more than likely about to go to bed.

“Stare like what?” You asked with a poorly concealed pout, pulling out your earbuds that’d been playing the track on a constant loop.

“Like you’re constipated or something.” Jennie waved her spoon at you before dipping it back into the bowl to scoop up more soggy cereal. “Project really giving you that much trouble?”

She didn’t necessarily know exactly what was going on with you, not exactly. Sure, she knew that you were partners with Yoongi and had been spending a lot of time with the man for the project. But she didn’t know just how much pressure you were under. Self-inflicted or not.

“These lyrics are kicking my ass.” Groaning, you leaned to the side until you were sprawled out on the couch.

“Why?” Jennie rested her arms against the back of it, bowl of milk and cereal hovering over you dangerously. “They don’t normally.”

She had a point. It wasn’t usually so difficult to write a damn song, but you also didn’t usually have a perfectionist genius as a partner. Instead of saying that though, you just threw your arms over your face. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m just not cut out for this, ‘ya know? I should drop out while I still can.”

“O-kay.” You could hear her exasperated eye roll. “Don’t stress so much about it. You know, whenever you’re done being overdramatic.”

Jennie successfully dodged the couch pillow you chucked after fleeing footsteps. A buzz from your phone had you reaching for it blindly and the text on the screen had you burying your face into the cushions.

Min Yoongi: you free tomorrow?

Y/n: yeah. Same time?

His response came in not even five seconds later.

Min Yoongi: works for me

“So, see you tomorrow?” The question left your lips as you packed your stuff back into your bag. You still hadn’t been able to come up with any lyrics. At least none good enough to show your partner. So while you’d both been in the studio, you’d busied yourself trying to write and Yoongi had been doing whatever it was that he did.

He’d just powered down the computer he’d been working on and shook his head without looking at you. “I can’t tomorrow. I have plans.”

“Oh, really?” That came as a surprise. The fact that there was something or someone out there that could force the Min Yoongi to ditch working on a song. “What kind of plans?”

Ever since you’d showed up with food two weeks ago, he’d been a little more amicable towards you. Not as closed off. Which, of course, only led to you bringing some with you every day. Maybe food being the way to a man’s heart really applied to every man. Nonetheless, with the way the two of you would banter back and forth without heat made you hope that it wasn’t just you who considered him a friend.

Yoongi paused, only for a moment, but he paused all the same in throwing his bag over his shoulder before he answered. “I...have a show.”

“A show?” Your eyebrows raised in surprise as you stood up. That was the last thing you would have expected to leave his mouth. “What kind of show?”

“It’s not the type of show you’d want to watch.” He headed for the door and you scrambled to follow after him.

Leaning against the wall while he locked up the door, you folded your arms across your chest. “Why? You a stripper or something?”

Yoongi didn’t even spare you a look, just pocketed his keys and started down the hallway, apparently assuming that you’d follow. “You saying I wouldn’t be a good stripper?”

He’d assumed correctly. Your legs raced to catch up. “I never said that. You insinuated that all by yourself.”

An amused scoff passed his lips, but that was all you got in response. You weren’t about to letter the matter drop though. “So, are you?”

“Am I what?”

“A stripper.”

A pause. And then Yoongi met your sparkling gaze and shook his head with a huffing laugh. “No, I’m not a stripper.”

“Well, if your show isn’t anything rated NC-18, then can I go?”

“Why would you want to go?”

His question had you sending him a hesitant look. “Because we’re friends, aren't we?”

A heavy sigh escaped him. “If I say no, will you stop asking?”

You pretended to think for a minute before clicking your tongue. “Nope.”

He looked over at you, feline eyes squinting in contemplation. As much as Min Yoongi liked to act like he came across as aloof, he was a lot easier to read than he probably thought. And he must have found whatever it was he was looking for, because his thoughtful pout turned into a careless shrug.

“Whatever. Fine.”

“Sweet.” You grinned up at him and finally let him go on his merry way.

It was difficult to find a parking spot. You’d had to loop around the block at least ten times before you were finally able to squeeze your car into a space between two giant SUVs. The spot wasn’t exactly close to where you were supposed to meet Yoongi, but it was the best you could do.

When he’d texted you the address, you’d be lying if you said that you weren’t a little apprehensive at first. It was located on the outskirts of downtown where you’d never been before. Because the further out you went from the center of the city, the more dangerous it got.

Y/n: I’m here.

You sent the text off to Yoongi and cut the car engine. Throwing a glance at the clock on the dash, you silently thanked yourself for leaving a bit early in order to get there in time. The sun had long gone down and the moon had taken its place, so the streets were dark. Only lit up by the street lamps and lights that bled from apartment windows. Most of the businesses were closed for the night, the corner store half a block down was the only one still open.

You had about six blocks to walk and was just about to get out of your car when your phone started vibrating in your hand.

“Hello?” You answered the call, voice pitched with barely concealed amusement.

“Where are you?” Yoongi’s voice was even deeper over the phone, if that were possible. And you could hear the sounds of cars driving past him in the background.

You rolled your eyes even though he wasn’t there to see it. “I told you that I’m here.”

He sighed into the phone and you just knew that he was making a face. “Where is ‘here’ exactly?”

“Like, parked a few blocks away.” You popped your car door open, turning back to the passenger seat to grab your bag. “Give me a few minutes and I’ll be there.”

“Stay where you are.” Yoongi demanded and you raised an eyebrow. “I’ll come get you.”

“You don’t have to.” You huffed a laugh. “I have two legs, ‘ya know.”

“Really? Never noticed.” In the background, voices blended in with the sound of cars. “This neighborhood isn’t exactly the safest. So just tell me where you are so I can make sure you don’t get stabbed or something.”

“‘Stabbed or something?’” It was difficult to hide your amusement now, but you obeyed and got back inside your car anyway, letting him know what street you were on. “My knight in shining armor, you say the most romantic things.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes. You knew he did. “Nevermind. Maybe I’ll just let you get stabbed while I make my escape.”

The bark of laughter that left you was impossible to contain. “I could run faster than you and you know it. So try me.”

“I’m hanging up.”

“Yeah okay. You wouldn't--”

A click told you that yes, he would. And you were left staring down at your phone with open mouthed disbelief. How dare he? You were just about to call him back and tell him as much, when a knock on your car window had you jumping with a small shriek.

Yoongi stood right outside your door with his fist still raised and a gummy grin on his pouty lips. You just stuck your tongue out at him childishly and grabbed your bag before slipping out of your car. “You’re a bully.”

He slid his hands into the pockets of his dark colored jeans and shrugged. “Would a bully walk all the way over here to make sure you don’t get robbed?”

Now it was your turn to shrug, taking him in and pretending not to see his onyx eyes slide down your body. Yoongi was dressed casually like usual. With a plain white t-shirt and a black zip up jacket thrown over it, he pulled it off like he’d just stepped off a magazine cover. How in the hell he always managed to do that was a mystery to you. And you knew you didn’t compare to him, even with your high-waisted white joggers and grey crop top.

Whatever. It wasn’t like it was bright enough outside to matter anyway.

“That sounds exactly like something a robber would say.” You flicked your hair over your shoulder and took off down the cracked sidewalk, making sure to lock your car behind you.

“Not like there’d be much to steal.” Yoongi’s voice caught up to you right as he did, walking side by side with the occasional brushing of his shoulder against yours.

You responded to his playful jab by lightly smacking his arm. “Careful there. Keep saying such poetic words and you’ll make me fall in love with you, Min Yoongi.”

He went quiet, but you could feel him looking at you from the corner of his eye. His gaze was a weight that burned through you, a light shining through the night.

The rest of the walk passed by pretty quickly, especially when nobody jumped out of an alleyway to rob you at knifepoint. Whether or not that was because of the man walking at your side, or something else, it didn’t matter. Not when the building you were headed to for the night popped up in the distance.

It looked like any other building on the street, with rough brick siding and a glowing red and green sign advertising the bar. Situated on the corner, you were just about to head inside when Yoongi’s hand caught your arm.

“It’s this way.” He answered your confused look by tugging you gently down the alleyway right next to the bar.

“But I thought it was inside.” You glanced back behind you before looking back towards the dead ended alley.

Yoongi dropped his hand from your arm. “It is.”

“Ah, makes sense.” You nodded sarcastically, successfully drawing a smile from your escort.

“Be patient and you’ll see.”

True to his word, you saw what he meant when he came to a stop outside of a side door. There weren’t any signs or anything indicated what it led to, but you could take a guess as Yoongi pulled it open and gestured for you to enter first.

It was dark inside and you had to squint in the dim lighting in order to see anything. You were in what appeared to be some kind of entrance that reminded you of one of the speakeasies downtown. Though there wasn’t a soul in sight, just a staircase at the end of the short hall. Unless you counted the loud base of music pounding through your feet and straight to your bones. The door slammed shut behind Yoongi and then he was taking the lead towards the stairs.

The further down you went, the louder the music got until it was all you could hear. And once you got to the bottom of the stairs and turned into the room, you found out why. Bodies were packed wall-to-wall, some moving to the music pouring from the speakers and others nodding their heads with drinks in their hands. Red and purple lights made the room seem bigger than it actually was, made it easier to lose yourself in the crowd.

Yoongi had taken you to an underground club. Which just made you all the more curious about just what kind of show he was going to be performing in.

“Want a drink?” Yoongi’s voice, even though spoken directly in your ear, was barely distinguishable from the lyrics bleeding through the room.

You simply nodded, taking care not to bash your head into his nose from where he was leaning over for you to hear him. He said something you couldn’t hear, words lost to the crowd. But you assumed he wanted you to follow him when he started to merge himself into the throngs of people. Just when you thought that you’d have to try and fight your way through to keep up with him, he was reaching back to grab your hand.

Wrapped his slender fingers around yours without sparing you a second look.

He was just trying to make sure you didn’t get lost in the crowd. Yeah, that was it. There was no other reason for it, so therefore your heart had no reason to speed up. To thump in time with the bass as you followed behind him. Especially when the warmth from his palm slid into yours.

“What do you want?” Yoongi turned back to speak in your ear. Shit, you hadn’t even realized that you’d already reached the packed bar. So you forced yourself to focus on the two bartenders running around behind it, rather than the hand still in yours.

“Tequila.” You answered. Yoongi raised both eyebrows in surprise before turning back to the bar. With his eyes no longer on you, it made breathing a whole lot easier. And you turned your attention away from Yoongi’s slim back and towards the stage.

It was all the way on the other side of the room and you watched as a guy walked across it with a mic in his hands. The music was lowered and his voice cracked to life through the speakers. Whatever announcement he was making went in one ear and out the other because Yoongi turned back around with a plastic cup extended out towards you. His other hand was empty and you sent him a questioning look.

Whether or not he knew what you were silently asking, or was just making a general announcement, he answered your question. “I have to perform soon.”

You made an ‘o’ with your mouth and accepted the drink with a smile in thanks. “You still haven’t told me what you’re gonna be doing.”

You had to stand on your tippy-toes in order for Yoongi to hear you, which didn’t go unnoticed by him if the amused gleam in his eyes was anything to go by. “You’ll see.”

Which was exactly how you found yourself with another drink in your hands and your back leaning against the bar. If you were being completely honest, you hadn’t been sure what to expect. A lot of different things had popped into your mind about what kind of shows your partner liked to put on. Some ranging from completely ridiculous, to weird, to funny.

But none of them had been this.

Min Yoongi was a lot of things. A talented producer, a deep thinker, a musical genius.

Never would you have thought to add “rapper” to the list. You should have known, was a little surprised at yourself for not being able to guess. Like all other things Min Yoongi, he was incredibly good at it. Took to the stage like a natural. And you were completely awestruck, unable to look away the whole time he was up on that stage, letting words flow from his lips like some kind of poetic river.

Calm, yet bubbling over with the effortless way he captured the attention of everyone in the room. The track he rapped over was fast paced, but he had no trouble keeping up and keeping the crowd engaged at the same time. He performed three songs, but it wasn’t enough. And judging by the one last look at the crowd Yoongi took before exiting the stage, it wasn’t enough for him either.

Whoever took his place didn’t have one ounce of your attention. And maybe that was rude or whatever, but you didn’t care. Not when you caught sight of his blond head making its way towards you. He got stopped multiple times along the way by people congratulating him with pats on the back or short conversations.

By the time Yoongi finally made his way back to your side, your second drink was extended out to him with a grin on your face. You’d barely even taken a sip from it, so it was completely full and beginning to sweat water. “That was amazing!”

The performer on stage was loud, but you could tell that Yoongi heard you by the smile he tried and failed to hide behind the rim of the plastic cup. But you weren’t going to leave it at that, grabbing a hold of his shoulders and squeezing to make sure you got your point across. “Like, incredibly amazing! Why didn’t you tell me you could rap like that?”

“You never asked.” He shrugged. Yoongi wasn’t the type of person to feed off of compliments, you knew that. But that didn’t mean that he didn’t appreciate them. The way his onyx colored eyes glittered told as much. And when he tilted the plastic cup back and drained the contents, the confidence that flowed beneath his skin gave it away too. “You wanna get out of here?”

“Where are we going?”

“Patience, young padawan.”

A snort of amusement from the passenger side of your car had you throwing Yoongi a wink. He completely ignored you in favor of thumbing through the playlist on your phone. It was hooked up to the radio via bluetooth and ever since you’d left the underground club, he’d been focused on silently judging you for your music choices.

When Yoongi had suggested bailing on the club, he hadn’t really had a particular place in mind. Which you’d soon figured out the moment you stepped out the door. He’d taken the subway to the place, so you’d all but shoved him into your car before he had a chance to say no.

“You really have Ariana Grande on here?” He wiggled your phone in your peripheral and you would have rolled your eyes if you weren’t too busy merging off the freeway.

“What’s wrong with Ari?” You huffed in mock offense.

“Nothing.”

“I can literally hear the judgement in your voice.”

“Maybe you should focus on the road then.”

Now you really did roll your eyes. Though the bark of laughter that accompanied it showed your lack of annoyance. “I would if we weren’t already here.”

Yoongi looked up from your phone just as you were putting the car into park. His eyes squinted into the dark with a furrow of his eyebrows. “We’re at the beach?”

“Nope.” You popped the ‘p’ and turned off your car, quickly hopping out before you could fall victim to his flatline stare.

The scent of sea salt lingered in the semi-humid air and you paused for a moment to inhale deeply. There was nothing quite like the smell of the ocean, and when the passenger side door opened and closed, you rounded the car to wave Yoongi along. He caught up to you right as your shoe hit the wooden planks of the boardwalk. You’d had to park way back in one of the lots far away from the beach for whatever godforsaken reason.

Shopfronts, closed and shuttered by metal grates due to the late hour, greeted you as you walked down the path. And Yoongi’s presence at your side was calming. Hell, everything about that man was. Never would you have thought that about him, not at first. Not with the rocky way your friendship had started.

Neither would you have expected the warmth that bloomed in your chest everytime he looked at you with those pretty eyes of his. Or flashed you one of his patented gummy smiles. He’d somehow wormed a place into your heart with that sarcastic wit of his. No, the last thing you would have expected from your final project was this.

But you didn’t mind. Even if he didn’t feel the same way, only looked at you like a friend, you didn’t mind. Because you’d take anything he offered you. And if a friendship was all he was willing to give, that was okay too.

“Where are we going exactly?” Yoongi’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts and you glanced up at him to see that he was already looking at you.

“Do we need to have a destination?” You shot back with a wiggle of your eyebrows. “It’s all in the journey.”

He rolled his eyes skyward as if silently asking why me, but let a smile touch his lips anyway “And this journey leads to the beach I’m guessing?”

“Maybe.” You dragged out the syllables, nudging your shoulder with his playfully. “Don’t tell me you don’t like the beach.”

“Who doesn’t like the beach?”

“That’s exactly what I’m--whoa.” Your feet came to a halt right as you stepped out from between two shops, where the boardwalk met the beach. Yoongi stopped at your side, but you didn’t even notice.

Because you were too busy staring at the apparent concert that was being held further down the beach. Apparently the loud music you’d heard from the parking lot wasn’t from one of the many speakers placed throughout the boardwalk. Well, that would explain the lack of parking at least.

Even from where the two of you stood, you could tell that the crowd was huge. They took up a big chunk of the beach, bodies nothing but a dark mass in the distance as they danced to the music from the stage. You couldn’t tell who it was, not that far away. But the multicolored lights flashed into the sky like a beacon.

“I wonder who’s performing.” Yoongi’s mumble had you bending down to unlace your shoes. “What’re you doing?”

“You wanna know who’s performing?” Slipping off your socks, you threw both those and your shoes into your bag. Once it was closed up, you sent Yoongi a conspiratorial wink. “Let’s go find out.”

He didn’t move, just gave you a look before realization dawned on his face. “You want to sneak in.”

It was a statement, not a question, but you nodded your head anyway. “Come on, when will you ever have the chance to do something like this again. Don’t tell me you’re scared we’ll get caught.”

Yoongi scoffed, but leaned down to slip off his shoes in an uncharacteristic move. You knew he wasn’t much of a partier and didn’t do things like this very often. So the fact that he was caving to your suggestion had your mind whirling. “I’m just surprised, is all.”

“At what?”

A smirk was thrown your way as he stood back up, but that was all the answer you got. After all the time you’ve spent with the man, you’d like to consider yourself a Yoongi Whisperer. So that smirk probably meant something along the lines of: I’m surprised that you’re a super awesome badass.

Or something.

“Just come on.” You grabbed his hand without thinking, dragging him behind you onto the sand. When he failed to complain, you took that as a greenlight to continue doing so.

When his fingers linked themselves with yours, it took all you had to not falter in your steps. To pretend like you weren’t affected by such a thoughtless action. To calm the rapid beating of your heart.

The closer you got to the concert, the louder the music got, until you could hear the roar of the crowd over the artist on stage. It was EDM, or at least sounded like it. Of course, as soon as you got closer, you spotted your first hurdle. One you’d been unable to see from far away.

A chain link fence stood between the two of you and a night of fun. It had your shoulders deflating before you even realized it, and you turned to the blond at your side. “Should we climb it or something?”

Biting your lip, you eyed just how far up it was. Even if the two of you managed to climb it, there was no way that you wouldn’t be spotted by security. And being arrested was the last thing on your to-do list.

“Or.” Yoongi crossed over to the fence and wrapped his hands along the bottom of it. With a quick glance around to make sure that no one was looking, he lifted it up and back, bending it backwards with just enough space left at the bottom for someone to squeeze underneath.

There was no way that he would have been strong enough on his own to lift it, and a closer look had you snorting a laugh. Apparently the two of you weren’t the only ones who’d had the idea to sneak in.

“You going?” He questioned and you started forward before a smartass remark could leave his mouth.

The sand was cool beneath your body as you shimmied underneath the space between the fence and the ground. And once you were on the other side, you crouched down and grabbed the fence from Yoongi to pull back towards your side. “I’m surprised that you’re going along with this, to be honest. Don’t you hate music like this?”

He grunted as he crawled across the sand towards you. “You wanted to.”

“So?” Your voice was soft, but he was still able to hear you over the pounding bass. The fence dropped from your fingers once he was on your side, but you didn’t move, just stared up at him as he stood.

“So.” Yoongi started, extending a hand down to help you up. “Are you coming?”

His answer had warmth blossoming in your chest and a tiny smile blooming on your face. Had you reaching out to let him help you up off the sand. He didn’t let go while you brushed yourself off, but he did guide the both of you towards the writhing crowd, if only to avoid being spotted by security.

It was a good thing that Yoongi was a slim man, because it made slipping through the numerous dancing bodies closer towards the stage a whole lot easier. You’d made it to about the middle when he stopped and tugged you closer to join him in a pocket of space between two different groups of people. The scent of marijuana mixed in with sea salt from the ocean in a cocktail that usually accompanied things like that.

“Dance with me.” You spoke into Yoongi’s ear, ignoring the excited flush you felt at being so close to him.

“I can’t dance.” He stated, despite the hand he slipped around your waist and pressed into your back. Whether or not to move you out of the range of the group of girls dancing wildly behind you, or something else, you didn’t know.

Chest to chest, you’d be surprised if he couldn’t feel how fast your heart was beating. “Mm. I don’t believe you. Everyone can dance.”

“That’s a lie.” Yoongi’s lips were titled up at the corners and his gaze on you was soft. Gentle.

The flashing lights on the stage flickered through his dark colored eyes. Turned those once pools of onyx into a glittering galaxy that you couldn’t look away from. That hypnotized you like the beat that pulsed beneath your skin and drowned your ears.

“That’s not true.” Your mumble was lost to the crowd. Buried somewhere underneath the music as he moved closer. And the butterflies nestled deep in your gut fluttered their wings when his other hand cupped the side of your face.

Your eyes fluttered closed when his nose brushed yours and his breath fanned across your cheek. That was the only warning you got before his mouth was on yours. His lips were soft and he tasted like the strawberry chapstick he liked to wear. And the kiss, like everything Min Yoongi, was slow. Not in a lazy way. More like he was taking the time to savor it. To remember what your hair felt like as he slid his hand into it.

Or the way you involuntarily sighed into his mouth when his teeth caught your bottom lip. How your fingers found their way into the short hairs at the nape of his neck when you pulled him closer. How he’d had to hold back a laugh at the way you were standing on your tippy-toes in order to reach him.

You probably wouldn’t have pulled away and neither would he, if it weren’t for the rain that suddenly tore from the sky like an opened dam. Drenching anything and everything around it faster than you could blink. It had you forcing yourself away from the magnetizing pull of Yoongi’s lips to give him an eye crinkling smile.

“What was that for?” You didn’t care if you were getting wet.

Neither did he apparently, because he ran a thumb over the lips he’d just kissed, sending shivers down your spine. “Isn’t it obvious?”

“No. Break it down for me.”

He met your imploring gaze almost bashfully, eyes squinting from the rain. “I’ve liked you since practically the beginning of the semester.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. “What? Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

Yoongi shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t know how.”

Shaking your head in disbelief, you let out a small laugh. “I can’t believe you, Min Yoongi.”

He opened his mouth to respond when he was cut off by a loud clap of thunder. Both of you glanced up at the dark sky at the same time.

Everyone around you was either ignoring the torrential downpour or shrieking and attempting to use anything to shield themselves from getting wet. Once the sound of thunder echoed a streak of lightning, you knew what was about to happen next and turned to meet Yoongi’s eyes. He, like everyone else, was drenched and his blond hair stuck to the damp skin of his face. It had you grinning at the pout on his mouth and you leaned forward to press your lips to his one final time before pulling away.

“We should get out of here before everyone else decides to do the same.” You had to shout to be heard over both the rain and the noise from everything else. It was only a matter of time before the concert got either canceled or postponed due to the thunderstorm and you didn’t want to be caught in the middle.

“Yeah, let’s go.” Yoongi wiped water from his eyes and grabbed your hand to start navigating the hell out of there.

And as your eyes trained themselves to his slim back and your fingers interlocked themselves with his, you smiled. The lyrics that you’d been struggling so hard to write came to life beneath the fire in your chest. You had no one but the man in front of you to thank for the inspiration.

Min Yoongi was a lot of things.

A musical genius, a poet, a light in a sea of darkness.

Min Yoongi was nothing if not beautiful.

[icarus-suraki]

12, 46, 119 :)

12. What are your 5 favorite songs right now?

In no particular order...

The Banjo Beat Yeah, I know it's a meme staple, but it's got the kind of sound I love and how cool would a bellydance choreography look to this?

Little Dark Age (slowed) Yes, I first heard this in one of the Angels & Demons tiktok compilations and I loved it, shut up. I love the 80s goth energy in the video too. Like, it just hits the spot, you know?

Tick.Tock.Magical.Idol.Time  Because sometimes you just gotta find a happy place, okay? If there's ever a lipsynch or idol show at a convention, this is gonna be what I perform in my cute cyclops kigurumi mask. Absolutely. (The Pripara animes got me through a very long winter a few years ago. I'd literally get up earlier than I needed so I could see the latest clips after a new episode aired before I went to work lol. And, yes, I love Yui, but Lalaa is best girl. They get to perform together, though.)

Lots of Zenbukimi and Not Secured,Loose Ends songs lately. I'll throw these here for an example: "Loud Asymmetry" and "独白園" ["Garden Monologue" or "Monologue Garden"?]. I have a whole YT playlist, lol. I'm kind of fascinated by the whole "underground idol" phenomenon and the CodomoMental label groups because they're both idols and anti-idols, which is kind of an interesting conflict within "idol-style" music in Japan...

Superman This is what I use for my alarm every morning in the hopes that high energy ska-punk will make me get up. It doesn't always work, but I like the song anyway. I've been on a real ska and ska-punk streak lately.

46. What are you paranoid about?

On the one hand, as a Thomas Pynchon fan, who has major themes of paranoia in, uh, all of his books, I have to laugh. But, at the same time, I'm so much less paranoid than I used to be. I put this down to my medications. In the past, wow, I've been paranoid about, uh, everything?

I think I'm kind of weak willed because any kind of "world's gonna end on x date" thing would send me into multi-day panic attacks. Nostradamus, obscure and dubious prophecies, biblical interpretations, Book of Revelations, political stuff, anything. I'd find myself believing all kinds of irrational things but not feeling like I could do anything about it (I mention this in particular because it’s markedly different from the Q-Anon fandom that is determined to Do Something about what they believe is happening; I felt informed but helpless, like there was an air raid siren blaring but nowhere to go and no shelter to be had, only inevitable destruction needling down from the clear blue sky). Like, all these terrible things are going to happen to us all and there's nothing we can do about it. Biblical stuff would always set me off in a major, major way. I'm rather proud I can shake off all the people talking about microchips in vaccines because a few years ago I would have been panicking about whether that was true and what the ramifications would be because, obviously, there was no way to get out of this inevitable fate or possible damnation and maybe it was the Mark of the Beast so what does that mean? Are there going to be people starving outside grocery stores now? Was xyz event really a sign? How much are we going to suffer??? What if I'm not good enough for God?????? Lots of religious anxiety in my past, as you can see. And some still, to be honest.

Yeah, it sucked. Glad I got most of that anxiety sorted before 2020 lol. (I sometimes think I could use a bit of anxiety because now I'll do dumb shit without fear because, eh, who cares? So I may have swung too far in the opposite direction.)

119. Favourite book? It's a three-way tie, baybee!

Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury: I wrote a bang-up college admissions essay on this book and why it's not actually about censorship (as is usually but incorrectly taught) but rather about a disinterest in books/reading or an anxiety about the intense emotions that reading can bring out in the reader and I want to major in English so please let me come to your school to do that. And, guess what? They did. I read this book and then I felt feverish for, like, a week after. That's how hard it hit me, especially surrounded by high school classmates who really didn't care about school or reading or anything. It was like "fuck, this is too close to possible!" Anyway, it's still not about censorship.

Ulysses by James Joyce: This book, this thing, has such a reputation of being Evil and Dirty. So I read it. Fuck it, why not? Actually, I had been assigned some stories out of Dubliners to read over the Thanksgiving break my freshman year and I was kind of like "why the fuck did no one ever tell me to read these before now?" So I went and read Portrait of the Artist. N.B.: I think I was ~18 or 19 at the time and that thing hit me like not just a ton of bricks but about six tons of bricks. Like, I know I'm part of the .05% of people who actually like The Catcher in the Rye, but I think that's because I read it when I was ~15 or 16, because I was the ideal age and in the ideal mindset to read it. (The older I get, the more I identify with Holden's teacher, Mr. Spencer, who essentially tells Holden that if you can just hang on, I promise it gets better and you can do the shit you want really soon. But I also know how badly that would have gone over with my 16 year-old self, so...) So, anyway, in internet parlance, I realized I was kin with Stephen Dedalus, right? The only natural next step after PotA was Ulysses, since that picks up after PotA, so I just jumped into that with a copy from the used bookstore and separate annotation book from my school's library. And, o my fuck, Jim, you fucko, how did you do this? Like "I'm gonna create so many references and so many layers that you're going to have fun picking at this for years." And he was right! I have never been to Dublin but I can navigate the older parts of the city thanks to this dirty, profane, vulgar, obscene piece of literature lmao. I finished it the first time when I was almost 22, Stephen's age in the book. I went to Europe that summer, 2004, which was 100 years after the events in the book (1904) and intended to play at being Stephen, but that shit did not work out as planned and ended up being more accurate to canon than expected: i.e. everything was terrible and I suffered very artistically. I had planned on going to Ireland this year, because I turned 38 this year, Leopold Bloom's age in the book. 2020 wasn't having it. So maybe 2021? Or maybe 2022, the anniversary of its publication. This thing hangs in the background for me constantly and it's like the most amazing running joke in my life. I dressed up as Stephen for Halloween in 2004 too. Just sayin’.

Gravity's Rainbow: When I was working at a major chain bookstore immediately after college, it was retail hell and I was extremely depressed and everything sucked. I had no direction, no plan, no nothing. I kind of wanted to go get a PhD in English, though. So I started using my employee's discount to buy and read all the books that everyone seemed to talk about but had never read. Among those was Gravity's Rainbow, which was a title that intrigued me but I had no idea what it was "about." And saying what it's "about" isn't all that easy but that's kind of not the point. Just know that it's a dirty little book about sex and rockets. The point is the fuckery that our boy Tom Pynchon does with words and language and imagery and little winking references to things. I fucking love it. It's like, yeah. It's set during World War II and immediately after and it's bonkers and the author wrote most of it while very, very high. I went on and read the rest of his books (The Crying of Lot 49 is pretty much tied with GR for my affections; I would cosplay a theatrical interpretation of a Tristero courier if I ever had the opportunity) and bought Against the Day literally on the day it came out because I had become that much of a dork. (I also read Finnegans Wake about this time, which I also really love, a fact which really unsettles some people.)

Why can’t I be normal? I have no idea. I blame my past and my proclivities. 

Ask me stuff! Put question in, get blathering out!

[sophieakatz]

Thursday Thoughts: Sophie Sides

I cannot overstate how highly I recommend the web series Sanders Sides. In this scripted series, YouTuber Thomas Sanders shares the screen with a cast of characters, each a personification of an aspect of Sanders’s own personality – and each performed by Sanders himself. The ensuing debates and shenanigans are quick-witted, hilarious, and increasingly thought-provoking as the show progresses and more of Sanders’s “Sides” make their presence known.

I stumbled across these videos at a time when I really needed to do some serious reflection on some big questions, such as “What kind of person do I want to be?” and “Am I taking good care of myself?” – the kinds of questions that this show tackles. Sanders Sides has definitely helped me think through some difficult topics.

It’s also gotten me thinking about my own Sides. If I were to split my personality up into different characters, who would I find? I wouldn’t divide myself up along the exact same lines as Thomas Sanders, of course, though our personalities do overlap in some interesting ways.

Let me introduce you to the Sophie Sides!

Lilly – The Dreamer

If it’s time for fun and imagination, then Lilly is not only on board, but at the helm! She is my creative side, the source of my storytelling and my artistic drive. Lilly also embodies my more childlike aspects, including playfulness and optimism. She’s my love of fantasy novels, Disney movies, and puns – and it’s ridiculously easy to make her laugh. Lilly is a constant source of new ideas, so she can be really distracting when I need to focus on just one task. She believes that “princess” is a compliment no matter what tone of voice it’s said in.

(Lilly’s full name is Lilly Belle, a reference to Lillian Disney – Disney Studios ink artist, wife of Walt Disney, and the reason we know the famous mouse as Mickey rather than Mortimer! Lilly wears the longest, swishiest blue dress, perfect for twirling like a Disney princess!)

Maddy – The Mother

I’ve always been the Mom Friend, and Maddy is why. She is the personification of my idea of what it means to be an adult – rational, responsible, and nurturing. Maddy keeps my priorities in order and makes sure that I stay on track and on schedule for all the important things in life. This includes eating well, attending doctor’s appointments, doing homework, attending synagogue, developing my career, and taking care of my friends. Maddy loves structure, rules, and tradition, and so she embodies my religious observance as well.

(Maddy starts with M – M as in “mother” and “maternal”! The other Sides will call her “Mom” if she’s getting too overbearing. Maddy wears professional attire: a black blazer, black slacks, and a dark blue blouse.)

Vashti – The Warrior

For Vashti, the term “social justice warrior” is no insult. She is my morality – a strong, instinctive sense of right and wrong, combined with an incessant, selfless desire for things to be fair. Vashti also embodies my aggressiveness, defensiveness, and vindictiveness; she tends to show up when I’m really pissed off, and she’s a lot shoutier than the other Sides. She holds both me and the world to a very high standard, and she has an unfortunate tendency to jump to conclusions and see issues as black and white. Without her, I’d be a much worse person – but I’m glad the other Sides are there to balance her out.

(In the Book of Esther, Vashti was the queen of Persia. One night, her husband the king told her to dance naked in front of his friends. She refused! My mom used this story to inspire in me an early sense of feminism, and so Vashti seemed the perfect name for this Side. Vashti rocks matching blue jeans and denim jacket over a “Girls Rock!” t-shirt.)

Sidney – The Slacker

While the first three Sides are a “get things done” kind of people, Sidney… is not. She represents my laziness, self-indulgence, and procrastination. Sidney encourages me to expend as little energy as possible and to devote my time to leisure activities, which can put her sharply at odds with Vashti, Maddy, and Lilly. In Sidney’s defense, she is a much-needed source of “chill” in my life. Without her, the other Sides would burn me out!

(Besides the useful alliteration of “Slacker Sidney,” Sid is the name my parents had on standby if I’d been assigned male at birth. The name is mine, but also not mine – appropriate for a Side who embodies qualities about myself that the other Sides don’t readily accept as a part of me. Sidney wears a burgundy hoodie and dark blue sweatpants.)

These first four are the aspects of myself I’m most comfortable with. But, just like in Sanders Sides, the exploration doesn’t end there…

Ex – Anxiety

Two years ago, I wrote a fairy tale about a little monster named Ex who mimics other people’s voices, tricking you into imaginary arguments that get you all riled up about things that didn’t actually happen. When I started thinking about my Sides, Ex turned up again.

Ex would tell you that she’s my forethought, my ability to imagine the outcomes of future interactions. However, the scenarios she presents always run negative. It’d be more accurate to say that Ex embodies my anxiety. She insists that she knows, with 100% certainty, what other people are thinking and how they will react to me. Her goal is to keep me safe, but she tends to blow things out of proportion and leave me feeling downright awful.

(Ex is a shapeshifter, able to appear as anyone in Sophie’s life and even as the other Sides. Ex’s name is the variable X – a placeholder for whatever role she may choose to play. I’m reluctant to give her a name, lest the arguments I have with her taint my emotional response to anyone I happen to meet with that same name. When Ex appears as herself, she wears a long green trench coat and a blue fedora hat. She has little blue horns and a tail which are all obviously attached to her clothing instead of being a part of her body.)

(Side note – lately, I’ve been thinking differently about my interactions with Ex. I’ll talk a bit more about that in next week’s Thursday Thoughts!)

Mal – Depression

Mal embodies my depression and grief. Her appearances used to be much more infrequent, and it was easier to ignore her. Until this year, it’s been easier for me to see her as an enemy or as something that I should hide. But Mal shows up as an expression of my pain. While all the other Sides are talkative, Mal never speaks. Her presence alone is enough to derail a conversation with a wave of sadness; she quietly, sullenly commands attention.

(“Mal” is a Latin root meaning “bad” or “evil,” and Mal embodies the worst feelings I’ve ever had, in response to the worst things which have ever happened to me. She spends most of her time hidden under a pile of blankets, only sitting up when she wants to be noticed, so it’s unclear what she’s wearing. She has permanent dark blue tearstains on both cheeks.)

Eve – Yetzer Hara

If Vashti is Yetzer Hatov – the good inclination, my drive to make the world a better place – then Eve is Yetzer Hara – the evil inclination, my selfishness. As far as Eve is concerned, I should be my number one priority, everyone else in the world be damned! Vashti generally bans Eve from having a seat at the table, as it were, because once Eve has a say, she’s difficult to ignore. Eve is a smooth-talking politician with an agenda of ambition and pride. As Rabbi Nahman said, without yetzer hara telling us to envy our neighbors, we would never seek to improve ourselves. But as Rabbi Hillel said, if I am only for myself, then what am I?

(Christians blame the biblical Eve for “original sin,” and my Eve never met a deadly sin she couldn’t make sound appealing. Of course, she’d be the first to point out that in Judaism the concept of “sin” is much more complicated than that! Eve wears a light blue dress, much more form-fitting and much less swishy than Lilly’s. She has glowing golden eyes – and when she convinces the other Sides to listen to her, then their eyes start to glow, too…)

I ended up going much deeper in this little exercise than I expected to. Overall, it was a lot of fun! I don’t plan on making a web series about my Sides, but who knows? Maybe I’ll write a fic about them someday.

How about you? Are you a fan of Sanders Sides? Have you ever thought about what Sides make up your personality? If not, take a moment and try it out, and let me know who you discover – I’d love to hear about them!

[lovemesomesurveys]

S c h o o l Did you/do you like school? Looking back after a few years, I think I did overall. I wouldn’t have said that in the moment, though. I got very easily overwhelmed, stressed, and burnt out. Many tears were shed. A lot of anxiety was induced. I hated the presentations and taking exams. There were parts I did like, though. There were assignments, books, courses, teachers, and activities that I liked. The learning aspect of stuff that was of real interest to me was enjoyable.  What was/is the best thing about going to school? The worst? I listed the good and bad in my previous answer. All that being said, I do believe education is good and important.  What was/is your favourite subject? Least favourite? My favorite was always english and then psychology, obviously. That was my major. My least was always math. That was the absolute worst.  Who was/is your favourite teacher? Least favourite? My favorite in elementary and middle school (my school was a K-8th grade) was Mr. McGill. He was my 4th grade teacher, but he ended up being an 8th grade teacher later on and I was able to have him again. He was very funny and cool and made learning fun. He genuinely cared about his students. Everyone loved him. In high school it was my sophomore history teacher, Mr. Coffey. He reminded me so much of Rob Dyrdek from how he looked to how he acted. He was cool. He always jammed out to Red Hot Chili Peppers before class. In college I had a few awesome professors. College professors are usually pretty rad.

What did/do you do for break/recess? Recess I just hung out with my friends. I forget what we did, exactly. I couldn’t go on the playground (I’m in a wheelchair). I probably just watched them for awhile or something. I remember playing 4-square. Probably stuff like tag as well. I honestly don’t really remember what I did for recess in elementary school. In middle school we just hung out. *shrug* Oh, and had snacks cause most of us always brought chips or whatever to munch on before lunch. People were suddenly your best friend if you had Hot Cheetos haha. In school break was lunch and I just ate and hung out with friends mostly. In college if I was campus for a long time I usually ate between classes, studied, did some reading, got coffee, messed around on my phone and watched YouTube or Netflix or something.  Did you/do you do any after school activities? What? In 5th and 6th grade I was a Girl Scout. In middle school we had electives, but that was during school so I guess that doesn’t count. I think it was like toward the end of the school day, though. Oh, also my local community college offered some fun classes for kids during the summer and I did some of those. In high school I was in a couple clubs. I was VP for one of them. When I was at community college I was an active club and then board member of the psychology club. In university I didn’t do anything, ha. I went to my classes and went home.  Did you/do you take part in a club or sport at school? What? No sports, but yeah the club stuff I just listed. ^^^  What age did you start school? Like 3 in preschool. If you've left school do you wish you were still there? Nope! haha. I served my time as I say. I’m doneeee. S l a n d e r Do you take things people say at face value? Not always. Depends what they’re telling me, obviously. If someone was like, “there’s a huge meteor crashing to earth tomorrow” I’m gonna look into that lol. What is the worst rumour that has been spread about you? There weren’t any. Not that I ever knew of, anyway. I wasn’t relevant. Can you honestly say you never act two faced? No. I think we’ve all been fake in some way or another at some time or another. Some people are just fake people, though. Like that’s just who they are as a person, ya know? I’m not one of those people, but I can’t say that I’ve never been before.  Do you get talked about behind your back often [someone tells you]? I’m sure my former friends have talked a lot of shit about me over the past few years and rightfully so. I wouldn’t blame them at all. Now I’m probably not even on their radar anymore and they probably just don’t give a shit, which I also wouldn’t blame them for. Apart from that, I mean I’m sure people have said stuff about me behind my back and I’ve been told things before. For the most part; though, I really feel like I was always pretty insignificant and not even on most people’s radar. Do you believe everyone is somewhat of a gossip? Yeah, pretty much. Some are just make it their life; though, and live for the gossip and drama. Don't you think those who insult others and their lives just seriously need to get a life of their own? I don’t understand the obsession some people have for people they claim to dislike or hate. Like, why are they so invested and give any of their time to someone they don’t like? It makes NO sense. I see that so much on the internet. I watch YouTubers and there will be so many haters who just have to get their fix and watch the video and talk shit about the person. They just have to leave that comment and make it known. I’m just like, WHY. I don’t waste my time watching or following up on someone I don’t like. I don’t feel the need to leave a rude comment. It’s real easy to just X out the video and find something else. Why waste your time??? I’ve just really been seeing that a lot lately especially on YouTube. Same with celebrities. There’s some I’m not a fan of or don’t particularly care for, but I have the need to go tweet and tell them that I don’t like them or talk shit in their comments. Make comments to yourself or to someone privately, but you don’t need to make it known to the person. I just move along with your life. That goes for anyone. We all talk shit sometimes, don’t act like you never do, but you don’t need to insult people to their face. S p o r t s Do you like sports in general? Nope. Do you prefer field sports, team sports or other? I prefer no sports. Do you run/jog regularly? Nope. Do you like/enjoy swimming? What's your usual stroke? Nope. What sport do you like to watch but not to play? None. What sport do you like to play but not to watch? None. Who is your favourite sportsman/woman? What sport do they play? I don't have one. Are you sporty, average or hate sports? Sports are just not my thing, man.  R a p Do you like rap music? Yeah. Whose your favourite rap artist? Why? I have several. I’m probably most into Post Malone these days. I like Drake, too. There’s also the newer genre, emo rap, that I’m into as well. That includes like Juice WRLD and Travis Scott. Thennn there’s like rap rock. Linkin Park, one of my top favorite bands, fall under that category. Whose your least favourite rap artist? Why? Hmm. Name me a few rap songs that you like? I don’t wanna.  Name me a few rap songs you dislike? I don’t wanna. Is rap one of your top 3 genres of music? I don’t know, man. I just like variety. Eminen or Dr. Dre? Eminem.  Dizzy Rascal or Will.i.am? I don’t think I’ve heard of Dizzy Rascal.  D12 or Bone Thugs n Harmony? I liked a couple songs by D12. Haven’t listened to them in a long time, though. R e a d i n g Do you like reading? I love to read. What's your favourite book? Whose your favourite author? I can’t choose a favorite. I just can’t. I’ve been reading a longgggg time and have read a lottttttt of books. I have too many favorites. Fiction or Non Fiction? I like fiction better.  Sci-Fi or Historical Novel? Hm. Probably sci-fi out of the two. Fantasy or Horror? Horror. Romance or War Novel? Romance. Do you prefer films or books? I enjoy both. How many books do you think you own? Quite a lot, but not as much as I used to. I’ve been reading a lot of ebooks for the past several years, so I have a lot of those. I have a lot saved in my Kindle app. What books have you read that made you sad? I’ve read countless number of sad books. What books have you read that frightened you? I read a lot of mystery and psychological thriller, so. What books have you read that were terrible? The only ones I’m embarrassed to admit I’ve read are the Fifty Shades of Gray series. :X What books have you read that left you wanting more? So many. I get really into a book and the characters. I love a series.  R e l i g i o n Do you believe in God? Yes. Do you believe in multiple Gods/Goddesses? No. What is your religion called? Christian. Do you believe in Angels and Demons? Yes. Do you believe in Heaven and Hell? Yes. Do you believe in The Devil? Yes. Not like how he’s portrayed in movies and such, like the red dude with a pitchfork, but yes.  What rule/ideal in your religion do you think is the most important? The 10 Commandments.  What, to you, is the difference between spirituality and religion? Religion consists of practices, beliefs, and a relationship with God. Spirituality is more within yourself.  Q u e s t i o n s O f O d d n e s s Do you like tandoori chicken? Never had it. I don’t even know what that is. Can you hear a man's voice right now? On the TV. What nations tea is the best? I don't know. Can you remember what you were doing at 12.30pm yesterday? Sleeping. Does the colour purple make you feel a particular emotion? No. What age are you going to be in 2020? I’m turning 31 this year. D: What colour are your siblings eyes? Brown. Do you more often get a sore throat, cough or sneeze? Sore throat or cough. Do you get more headaches, earaches, toothaches or sore eyes? Headaches and sore eyes. Do you usually wear plain coloured clothes or dual/multi coloured? I wear a lot of black, but it has stuff on it it’s not just a plain black shirt. How far away is the nearest take away place from your house? Like a 2 minute drive. Do you think sarcasm is a good tool or just annoying? It can be annoying when done excessively. It can just be rude sometimes. I have my sarcastic moments, though.  What photos do you have on your phone? Saved photos of stuff I found online, my doggo, some of me, just various things. What's the model of your phone? iPhone XR. Do you drink hot honey and lemon when ill? Nope. My younger brother swears by that kind of stuff when he’s sick. What word would sum up today? It’s only 6 in the morning. I need to go to bed omg. This week? Uh, itt’s just starting. This month? Meh. This year? Way too soon to say. Favourite type of muffin? Banana without the nut and blueberry. Streusel on top makes them even better.

[bigtiddycommity]

Clé: Miroh (2)

Pairing: Bang Chan x reader ft. Stray kids

Warnings: Slight profanity

Summary: An up and coming singer is introduced to the rough and unfair world of the music industry when she is tricked into a fake relationship with a popular idol. Her entire world has been turned upside down and now not only is she hated by millions of fans around the world but she is now despised by her...boyfriend?

__________________________________

It wasn't that the situation didn't bother Auriella. She was definitely upset when the truth was revealed to her. When her life and career were snatched from her so brutally and without a care.

First she was confused. Why her? Why was she chosen and why didn’t she have a say in the matter?

Then, she was shocked. What in the hell? Suddenly, just as things were beginning to be okay, actually truly okay for her, the biggest bomb gets dropped right in front of her.

She wanted to be mad and she wanted to lash out in frustration but then she realized that she wasn't the only one affected by the situation. According to her ex-manager, Rebecca, the other artists she was about to get involved with, was just as forced into the situation as she was. The group was a Korean boy band named Stray Kids. In passing, Auriella had heard of them as well as a few other groups in the k-pop industry. After some research, Auriella saw that they were around her age, so she could only hope that they would like and get along with her.

This contract situation didn't have to be so rough and mean. Sure, she and Bang Chan were put in an unfair position but Auriella wanted to see the positives of it all. Auriella had never been to Korea, so she wanted to see this as a sort of adventure. Plus, she was about to meet a group of 9 boys who she would be seeing a lot from now on, so this could be seen as an opportunity to make new friends.

Make no mistake, this was in no easy for Ariella. She spent her entire childhood being bullied and locked away in an orphanage, struggling with her own demons as well as the ones she lived with, the other orphans. Music was the light at the end of the tunnel for Auriella. Losing all of her hard work so quickly and being forced to drop her entire life to move to a foriegn country? There was nothing easy about that, but dwelling on the past wouldn't fix anything and it sure as hell wouldn't give her back her place in Lunar.

After landing at Incheon International Airport, Auriella and her assigned translator got into a cab to take her to her new home. Knowing how much of an inconvenience it is to be forced out of your home, Auriella wanted to make sure that the members of Stray Kids would be comfortable. She bought a modern mansion close by the boys’ label to make things easier for them. Auriella didn't buy the home as a bribe for the group, she bought it because she figured that they would need some time and space before they warmed up to her and she could only hope that this new house would give them enough space to do so.

“Miss, we have arrived.” David, her translator startled her out of her thoughts to inform her of their arrival.

“Oh, thank you.” Auriella signed. Here goes nothing.

After unpacking and dismissing David for the day, Auiella did what she always did when she was nervous or stressed. She cooked. The boys would be arriving any moment and she wanted to give them a warm welcome. Auriella didn't know how much they knew about her or her position in the contract, but she hoped they were aware that she had no willing part in it.

“What do I make?” The small girl muttered to herself as she looked around the large kitchen. She had requested for the house to be filled with all of the essentials but now that she had so many options, she didn't know what to make.

“Ah! Yes, this way they'll get to know a little bit of me.” Auriella had gotten an idea and began to get excited.

Since Auriella was of french descent, she figured she would make some traditional cuisine. She would make Moules Marinieres, which were muscles, in a white wine broth. She made it often for her former groupmates and hoped the boys would like it. She also decided to make a crispy, lemon fish called Sole Meuniere with a kale salad on the side as well as a chocolate souffle for dessert. She also made a pan of sweet and spicy dijon sausages just in case the group of boys arrived before the remaining dishes were completed.

“Maybe I’ll let you simmer for a few more minutes.” Auriella said, after tasting one of her dishes. Just then, she hears a beep, letting her know that the gate has been opened and whoever it was would be at the door in a few moments.

Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, Auriella made her way to the front door and opened it to greet a group of boys with bags and suitcases behind them in front of the stairs. Turning back to look at the boys before her, Auriella sees that they are taking her in just as she was she was doing to them.

“Um, hello. My name is Auriella. Please, come in.” She greeted timidly, opening the large door wider and stepping back to give them space to enter.

The herd of males turn and grab as much of their belongings as they could and stumbled back up to the door and placed them inside. After a few moments of back and forth to gather their things from outside, everyone was finally inside.

Seeing that the other boys were just going to sit and stare at the small girl, Felix walked up to her and held his hand out in a polite greeting. She deserved that much, even if she was a potential psycho.

“Hi, I’m Felix. It’s nice to meet you, Auriella.” Felix said, noticing that her hands were much smaller than his. The members often teased him for his child-like hands but his hand swallowed Auriella’s.

Auriella beamed. He had an adorable accent. “Hi! It’s nice to meet you as well. You have an accent, where are you from?” The young girl was intrigued, she had never heard such an accent before. Plus, he spoke english, maybe communicating wouldn't be all that hard.

Felix was flustered. She was just so nice and bubbly, he couldn't be mean to the girl even if he tried. “Uh, Australia. Where are you from?” He asked.

“I was born in Los Angeles but I’m of french descent too.” Auriella responded with a smile, She liked Felix, he was nice. Taking her attention from the boy in front of her, she looked towards the 8 others standing behind him and smiled.

“Can I know your names as well?” she asked politely.

Seeing that his members were just as flustered as he was moments ago, Felix cleared his throat before introducing the remaining member except their leader. Chan needed to talk to her at some point and felix felt it wasn't his place to do so for him.

“It's a pleasure to meet you all. I hope- oh I don't think I got a chance to meet you. You're Chan, right?” She asked, holding her hand out.

“Yeah. I am.” He responded coldly, completely ignoring her outstretched hand.

“Oh, um okay, well I can show you all your rooms now so you can settle down. I made dinner, too, so I hope you're all hungry.” Auriella failed to hide the hurt she felt by Chan’s rejection. She had at least hoped he would have given her a chance before deciding he didn't like her. This situation wasn't her fault but Chan seemed to think otherwise.

Felix translated what she had said and the members began gathering their things and followed Auriella through the house. After giving them a tour, she left them to choose their rooms and unpack. Walking back to the kitchen, Auriella began plating all of the food she had prepared. Once the dining table was set, the young girl made her way through the house to inform the boys that dinner was ready. Just as she got to the top of the staircase, she heard her name.

“Hyung, you barely gave her a chance, how can you say that?” A deep australian accent sounded. Felix.

“You saw her down there. I bet it was all an act. She may trick you into trusting her schemes but not me. I want nothing to do with that crazy bitch.” Bang Chan practically spat out. Crazy bitch?

Auriella didn't understand. Sure, the circumstances of the situation were frustrating and in no way fair, but blaming her was just as unfair. If Bang Chan was really going to sit and bad mouth her as if she caused all this without even considering all that she lost and sacrificed then fine. Auriella didn't care for his childish behavior. If he wanted to fight, he could look in the mirror and fight the reflection because Auriella had no time for him or his attitude.

Soon, all the members of Stray Kids sat around the large, dark dining table as Auriella had politely asked them to, and waited as the girl went into the kitchen to gather the meal she had prepared for them. While she was in the kitchen, the members began to whisper.

“I like her. She seems nice.” Jeongin said with a smile. Chan scoffed under his breath as he fiddled with the table napkin.

“You met her like five minuets ago. Don't get too excited.” He replied to the youngest. Feeling scolded, jeongin looked down at his hands and remained quiet.

“Technically, she hasn't done anything wrong.” Woojin wisely added.

“Yeah, hyung, she probably was forced into this too-” Changbin began only to be cut off by Chan slapping his hand onto the table with a bang, the sound of forks, knives and spoons rattling against one another.

“You don't know that! You don't know anything!” His voice was raised as he glared at the younger boy.

“Bang Chan.” Woojin said sharply. Over the years, the oldest and the leader had an agreement. Woojin would follow the lead of the younger boy but that didn't change the fact that he was older. Chan was the leader but, traditionally, Woojin had the last say. This was the first time Wojin ever felt the need to step in.

“Lower your voice and watch how you speak to your members. They are just trying to help.” His words were low but firm. He had enough. “You may not like this situation but that doesn't mean you get to mistreat everyone around you. You wanna throw a tantrum? Do it on your own time because contrary to what you might believe you aren't the only one affected by all of this, so suck it up. We don't know that she did anything to cause this and nobody, absolutely nobody, is going to mistreat her in any way until we know some details. Am I understood?” This wasn't the Bang Chan he knew. To say he was disappointed in his leader's actions, would be an understatement.

Knowing that he had messed up and was rightfully being put back in his place, Chan nodded silently. The remaining members, though in shock by Woojin’s sudden strict order, nodded as well and the room was filled with a thick silence.

“Okay! I hope you guys like seafood!” Auriella’s sweet voice sounded as she walked into the room pushing a serving cart with wheels at the bottom for transportation. The young girl, oblivious to the tension in the room, smiled brightly as she placed the large plates of food onto the dining table in front of the members.

“Looks delicious, Auriella. Thank you, you really didn't have to do all of this.” Felix told the girl with gratitude.

“Oh you are all very welcome. I love cooking so this was fun.” She beamed. “Well, let’s eat.”

Bowls and pans were passed around the table as everyone took portions of the food prepared. The members ate with sounds of appreciation and content looks on their faces. It had been awhile since they had a home cooked meal. Between performances and practices, time and energy had become scarce and instant foods became the norm. Being fed and taken care of like this brought a different kind of warmth and comfort to the members.

Jeongin said something with a smile as he looked at Auriella but the young didn't understand. She planned on taking Korean lesson as soon as possible.

“I’m sorry? I don't understand.” Auriella tilted her head in confusion.

“He said the food is good and thank you.” Felix laughed

“Oh, well I’m glad. Enjoy.” Auriella couldn't keep the smile off of her face. The youngest boy was so cute, she wanted to squish his cheeks.

The meal went on in a somewhat comfortable silence until the girl noticed something. “Oh Hyunjin, You have something right here, honey.” Auriella giggled as the boy turned at the sound of his name. Eyes wide and cheeks full, he looked at her in confusion.

“Here.” she smiled, grabbing her napkin and reaching for his face.

Hyunjin was frozen, the food in his mouth stuffing his cheeks as he continued to look at the girl reaching for his face with her small hands. She was gentle as she wiped the mess he left.

“There.” she said softly, picking up her fork once again, completely unaware of the nine pairs of eyes on her.

Jisung cleared his throat before calling for the girl almost hesitant. “A-auriella?” At her hum of response, he continued. “Did you know?” It was sudden but the question needed to be answered.

“Did I know what?” She asked the boy, unaware of the glaring eyes from across the table. Chan was watching her body language, to see if she was lying.

“I think he, all of us, wanted to know if you knew about the contract. I mean, did you choose this? I’m sorry, we aren't trying to be rude, we just don't understand.” Felix fumbled.

Auiella put her utensils down and took a deep breath. This was it. The big question that everyone wanted to know.

“No. I didn't. I am here because I made a stupid mistake.” She said regretfully.

“So this your fault, then. Thanks a lot.” Chan spoke up, earning and ignoring a glare from Woojin.

“Excuse me?” Auriella said, shocked.

“You said it yourself.” He said “You fucked up and now me and my members have to pay for it. Cheers.”

Bang Chan was rude, and condescending and selfish. Auriella had never met someone as ignorant as him and she had enough. She had done absolutely nothing wrong and he was treating her like she had caused all of this commotion purposely. Now, she was pissed.

“What? Nothing to say? Cause I’m right! Y’know, you are so selfish. Have you sat and thought for one second how you and your actions might affect other p-” Chan didn't get to finish insulting her before he was cut off.

“SHUT UP!” Auriella was shaking and red.

“What?” Chan didn't expect her to respond like that. He was just telling her what she already said. He didn't understand her problem.

“Shut up, you stupid, ignorant bastard.” Auriella spoke slow and firm. She had let him talk but now it was her turn and he was going to listen whether he liked it or not.

[lokialternatetimeline]

Why so serious? Why so jealous?(part 1)

Hi, R.A.W here. It’s my first and maybe only try at fan fiction. Sorry for the bad English. Wasn’t my loved subject at school. you can correct me, I’m not that touchy. I hope you enjoy.

P.s let me know if you’d experience something similar irl.

pairing: Thomas S. Holland x Reader

Warning: Don’t know if I will include smut in it or not. may a light smut in part two.

Summary: The reader reunite with ex Tom after a bad break up. They got caught in their desire for each others body. Your best friend called you over for a night out. She was invited to a party by some guys at her job and could bring a friend. You weren't a fan of night out but you wanted to cool down your head a little from what was happening at home. 'It's at Harrison's house. We'll dress there. The party start at ten.' said Natacha, parking in front of a residence you well know. 'What?!! You meant THIS HARRISON!‘ 'I know you would back down if I told you the truth.' 'But... why so early?' 'I 'll help out a little. Harrison isn't as great as he think he is in a kitchen. And you can make something or play with the others... You know make some new friends.' 'Ah!! YOU!!' ' yeah yeah . You love me too.' You were so angry that you didn't watch your step while getting out of the car and slipped on gravel. 'What the hell? Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! you cursed. 'Again!' laugh Natacha.

You felt two hand grab your waist and lift you like you were nothing.  You froze and didn't want to turn around to see who did that. Cause that person saw you fell. Not like it was the first time you had your butt of the ground but you weren't in a place you felt comfortable. 'Are you alright?' said the person. And THAT voice. 'oh fuck! you cursed again as you turn around. Yeah. I think my butt is fine, Tom.' Tom's face changed since the last time you saw him. Curiously, he didn't have that mole on his chin you used to love. And his body was wider too in that white shirt. 'That was a lot of cursing, Deadpool', he said trying not to laugh. ' Thanks I don't need help, yell Natasha trying to get all her stuff from the car at once. 'Oh sorry. I didn't see you. I'll lend you a hand.' ‘Such a gentleman. Why can’t Harrison be more like you?’ ‘He is.’ ‘Just not with me, she signed.’

You waited until you got inside with Natasha's makeup suitcase to ask. 'Are you scheming something.' 'I swear on your little brother. I'm not.' she said sincerely. 'So why didn't you tell me Tom will be in that party?' 'I needed you to get out of the house... and introduce me to one of his friend.' 'Why not asking Harrison.' 'He will act like some big brother, making going crazy and I don’t wanna act like a fool in front of his handsome friends.’ 'More insane that you actually are? ... okay okay, I'll help you out.' 'Yay!' 'Help out with what, girls? Harrison and Tom was near them. Harrison gave you both a hug, then grab you by the waist and invite you in his house. ...

'Please! just for tonight. I promise I'll only use one eye shadow, mascara and lipstick', begged Natasha. 'Promise promise?’ 'I swear on the head of your little brother.' 'okay but I'm not fan of that dress.' 'Oh come on! I'm not the only one getting it tonight.' 'I didn't come for that!' 'Whatever. Just be pretty for yourself tonight. And for me. I like to see my friend's cute ass in a dress once in a while.' You both laugh.

*knock on the door* 'No one is naked, you can come in, you giggle.' But that smile runaway when you saw the face of Tom. 'Fuck!' 'Natacha, Harrison is looking for you.' 'Okay. I'm out.' *door close* ' May I help you with some thing?' 'Put on my makeup, you smirked.' 'Alright. I'm pretty confident in my skill. You both laughed.

He sat on the chair in front of you and run his big hand through Natasha's makeup. 'What color for your eyes Ma'am?' 'Whatever suits me.' 'Then blue.' 'That's yours.' 'shuuu. close your eyes.'

Not seeing anything made you so nervous that your heart start to punch your ribs so hard it hurts. You felt the brush on your eye and somehow his breath too, making you swear again. 'your mouth too' 'No! I'll do it myself, you yelled opening your eyes. You jolt. His face was so close to yours. No wonder you also felt the heat of his body. A now body of a man. 'I mean... close your mouth. no cursing, Darling. 'Don't call me that, you defend yourself, embarrassed. His smile fade to give place to a serious face. And you remembered. You remembered that this was the last thing you said to him before breaking up. And what a stupid reason to break up. You were just ignorant at that time. Now you know that it was natural that it hurts the first time and didn’t have to blame him cause you were too scare it would feel the same pain if you do it again. 'Sorry... i didn't... 'I know. And he kissed you. The same sensation of your first kiss hit you like Godzilla beaming your body with all that explosion igniting your senses. His hands on your thigh gave a sly pressure and his kiss intensify making you lose your breath. You retreat, surprised, your eyes wide open.

*door open*

'What is going on here!?' Natacha stomped in the room making them jumped. 'Tom! What did you do to her? 'Nothing, he said, feeling guilty. 'Blue is okay but that's not the way you put on makeup.’ 'How dare you insult my magnificent work? I'm the best makeup artist in the whole world. This is art. You laughed. 'MMmm yeah. Get your little ass out now. She gave me carte' blanche to dress her up.' He looked at you and got up. 'See you soon then.'*door close* 'Are you hiding something?' asked Natacha noticing the redness on your face. 'Not really, you lied. So you did you got for me?' Natasha smile went up her ear. Nothing decent, probably, she thought.....

Tom was waiting downstairs. Again. Waiting was his pet peeve. He played it cool when he heard from Harrison that you were coming to the party two weeks ago. Two fucking weeks. He didn't know really know his actual feeling for her right now. But hearing your name made him kind of furious and excited. He didn't know why but he found himself waiting by the door like Tessa usually waits for him coming back home. It was so frustrating not knowing what was happening to him. And she was there. Butt on the ground. Like always. And found himself kissing her on impulse. It felt so damn good that he nearly loose his mind there. What would happen if she didn't push him? He blushed at that though. And Natacha who as going to take care of her. Oh god! His really gonna loose his mind. Gotta think about something else. People were still coming at the party. Lots of them. He signed and slide in the crowd getting a himself a beer. 'something else... something else...' he repeated to himself. 'Thomas!' 'Oh shit! not her. He saw Janice. That annoying glue, Janice.

There was so much people downstairs that you felt nervous. Mainly in that get up. You were thankful that Natacha choose a dress that was easy to move in and not as short as hers. A light blue skater dress with little lemon green dots and your makeup wasn't too much. Blue for the eyes, mascara, and light pink bling bling for your lips. It was weird to see yourself like that in the mirror. But you loved it. You felt pretty and that felt good too. 'Y/N! He is there. next to Tom.' You turned in the direction Natacha pointed. Tom was now wearing a classic black chess long shirt that he'd fold, letting his forearm showing. A pretty girl was clinging to his arms. Natacha was wearing lightly makeup in comparison. You went to William, ignoring the monster who was throbbing in your heart. Jealousy. 'Hi William. Can I have a word with you? 'Hey Y/N! he kinda screamed while hugging you. Tom was glaring. A little scary to your taste. William was tall so you asked him to lean a little and  murmured that you got a friend who wanted to meet him. William knew who you were talking about so reply excited: 'Oh. You're gonna make me the happiest.' Tom's glare felt like Hawkeye shooting electric arrow at you. Scary but arousing. Runaway...... 

Tom was so furious that he ditched Janice like a genius for once and got out for some fresh air. Why did it have to be William? He was the tallest among his friends. And they all made fun of them when they stand side by side. The tallest and the shortest. Tom was the most talented but height was his embarrassing complex. He signed. Y/N was stunning. More than he had imagine. *door open* It was William with a little shadow with him. He went to them, letting go of all frustration. He's gonna fight for her. 'Hey Tom. He stopped. 'Oh Natacha. ... hum.. Harry is looking for you. 'Now? she lamented. ' Yeah! Now! 'Okay. Tom followed her in the house leaving William smoking. He found her on a chair, Jacob next to her. He went to Ned and asked him to switch place. Jacob shrugged his shoulders and slide to the right. He crouched down next to her. She was looking at Natacha and Harrison, apparently in full argument. 'Jake, don't you think that Harrison has a thing for Natacha?' you asked turning your head and got Tom's face at 5 centimeter apart from yours. 'Fuck!' Your glass of beer slide from your hand and felt on your dress. 'oh fuck'. 'Ah clumsy Y/N is still the same, he laughed. Come with me.' You didn't discuss and just followed him to the kitchen. But he passed the kitchen and went upstairs. maybe in the guess room where you were assign with Natacha. But he also passed it. So it will be his room.

[misssophiachase]

So, I got this request a while ago but for some reason couldn’t answer it but have done a screen shot so I can reply. I hope you can find this Alice : ) To be honest my NFL knowledge is extremely low but I tried to incorporate some of the things you suggested. And by the way, great idea! Caroline would be an absolute boss in the NFL (she’d be an absolute boss anywhere though, right?) 

Playing to Win

Monday - Philadelphia, PA

Klaus Mikaelson hated a lot of things but nothing more than this ridiculous ‘sport’ he was witnessing from the stands. Obviously the sold out crowd at Lincoln Financial Field didn’t agree with his assessment of ‘football.’ Klaus may have been thinking it but the air quotes were still relevant. But they were Americans after all. 

Klaus wasn’t a huge sport fan, he did however appreciate real football (sans air quotes). Those Americans who called it soccer obviously did not. 

Klaus reminded himself, albeit grudgingly, he was only here for work and after he completed this one, tedious interview for Marcel he’d have his exclusive with famed artist Bonnie Bennett at her anticipated exhibition opening the following night. 

“Please tell me I’m not stuck with another Bears fan,” the older woman to his immediate right, who had been wildly cheering only moments earlier, drawled. 

“The Bears?” He asked, his lips moving before his brain could catch up. 

“You know the opposing team from Chicago?” She shot back, pointing towards the huge scoreboard across the field. “Not the brown, furry kind.”

“Oh,” he conceded, consulting it properly for the first time. “No, I’m not from Chicago.”

“I’m not sure whether to be relieved that you’re not a Bears supporter or alarmed that you seem to have no football knowledge whatsoever.”

“No need to be alarmed, it’s not the end of the world,” he quipped, flashing her his best smile and hoping to end the awkward conversation sooner rather than later. 

“You’re not the one who’s going to be hit with a barrage of questions about how the game works.”

“I’m fine, I assure you, Ma’am,” he replied politely. 

“So, what exactly is an English, clearly non-football fan doing here at a game in Philadelphia?” 

“Who exactly was going to be asking that barrage of questions?” He teased.

“Well, it’s half time. I’m bored and peckish to be honest,” she explained, before snatching his left over popcorn. “And I’m also extremely nosy when I want to be, just ask my daughter. She also happens to be single, you know in case you were wondering.”

Klaus shook his head wondering how this conversation he hadn’t entertained had turned from football to a possible blind date.

“Oh well, if she’s like you then I don’t think we’d have too much in common,” he observed. 

“For once, I think you’re right,” she chuckled before adding. “But they do say opposites attract.” Klaus mentally rolled his eyes thinking this woman was extremely persistent. 

And he was right.

She proceeded to coach him on the rules from the sidelines even though he never asked. The Eagles were triumphant and Klaus couldn’t help but feel a little buoyed by the fact as the excited crowd cheered around him. Not that he’d admit that to his insistent, but friendly, neighbour. 

1 hour later....

Caroline Forbes hated interviews.

With a passion.

So much so that her palms were sweaty and no matter how many times she ran them over her jeans it made no difference. In public she oozed confidence and professionalism but unexpected questions seemed to make her incredibly nervous.  

When she’d made her way up to the professional coaching level for the Philadelphia Eagles last year, Caroline wasn’t quite sure how she’d be perceived. 

She wasn’t the first ever female coach in the NFL. Jen Welter from the Atlanta Cardinals had become one of her inspirations in 2015 after her promotion and it had given Caroline the confidence to try and emulate her journey in the male dominated NFL. 

Of course it wasn’t an easy road. She had cheered at High School and through College, something idiotic males liked to remind her about at every opportunity. But it had been her mom, the local town Sheriff and huge football fan, who’d made Caroline believe anything was possible. 

Being named as coach was one of the best days of her professional career but for some reason the fact she was blonde and pretty was more interesting than her actual experience and CV.  

When the New York Times had approached Caroline for an interview on the eve of the finals she’d been dubious. But she had eventually relented, mainly because her publicist, and best friend since kindergarten, Katherine had threatened to reveal her innermost sexual fantasies to the press. She realised then that you should never mix business with pleasure. 

After all the jokes, Katherine had told her that Marcel Gerard was a good guy she could trust even if his wife Rebekah had some icy tendencies. 

“Miss Forbes?” Caroline had to admit the low, almost sexual rumble he emitted was messing with her concentration and she hadn’t even seen him yet. She decided to blame it on nerves.

Although upon turning around, Caroline realised her first instincts were correct. Not only did he sound delicious he looked it too. Dressed in a navy henley and dark jeans with deep, crimson lips and a set of disarming dimples this guy was not what she was expecting. 

At all.

“That’s me, who are you?” 

“Well, last time I checked, I was interviewing you for the Times,” he offered gingerly. “I’m Klaus Mikaelson.” 

“I was expecting the Sports Editor, Marcel Gerard.” Marcel was the most well-known reporter in the game and probably why she’d been so nervous to meet him. But instead she had this gorgeous replacement. 

Caroline couldn’t decide which was more nerve wracking. 

“He had to cancel due to personal issues,” he responded. By his expression and tone, Caroline knew there was more to the story.  

“Fine,” she exhaled, moving towards the couch. “Let’s get this over and done with then.”

“Charming,” he joked sarcastically, taking his place on the couch and removing his equipment. It was difficult to miss the way his henley moved up and exposed his the pale but smooth skin of his lower back. 

Caroline shook her head, wondering if being flustered was better than being nervous. “So, which team do you follow?” It was usually a safe, opening question that invited discussion and the right amount of banter. 

“Team? In the NFL?” He paused momentarily, Caroline slightly intrigued by his eventual response.

“No, the English Premier League,” she chuckled. “You know that other football.”

“There’s only one...” he shot back before stopping and intriguing Caroline more. “If you must know I’m a big Chicago Bears fan.”

“Wow, this isn’t going to be an awkward interview at all, sorry about that whole losing thing tonight.”

“I’m okay with losing,” he offered. “But how do you deal with it?”

“Well, I suppose I just take it in my stride,” she bristled. “Nobody likes a sore loser.”

“Yet, your body language is telling me something else entirely,” he observed. “You hate to lose.”

“If that’s your angle Mr Mikaelson then it’s not very original from a football standpoint. There’s nothing wrong with a healthy, competitive streak. I’m sure you feel the same way when Mitch Trubisky is making his way to the goal line.”

“Well...”

“Mitch Trubisky you say? The Quarterback from the Bears,” a voice interrupted. Caroline’s eyes diverted to the doorway noticing her familiar visitor.

“Just invite yourself in mom,” she drawled sarcastically. 

“Mum?” The curious journalist inquired, his attention now firmly focused on the door too. Caroline had no idea what was happening but it was never a good idea for her mom to be present during interviews because she liked to share each and every childhood memory no matter how mortifyingly embarrassing. 

“Liz Forbes, nice to meet you,” she greeted, making her way into the room and sitting by his side.  If Caroline was being honest, they seemed almost comfortable with each other.  “I thought I’d sit in on the interview.”

Caroline obviously had no choice and it seemed that given his confused expression Klaus felt the same way. 

Tuesday - Philadelphia, PA  

Klaus was still trying to work out when things went wrong. His only job was to interview Eagles Coach Caroline Forbes for Marcel and then move on to his real assignment.

But for some reason, rather than feeling excited for his exclusive with Bonnie Bennett at her gallery, Klaus could only replay last night’s events on a continual loop in his head.  

It had started well enough, even though he knew nothing about American Football. He’d been rattled from the outset because Caroline Forbes wasn’t what he was expecting. Sure he’d seen photos before and she was beautiful but the passionate, forthright and intelligent woman he met only made him want to know more. 

Much more.

Until her mother, who just happened to be his neighbour during the game, appeared mid interview. His mind played back to their conversation and her daughter’s single status and the fact she wanted to play matchmaker.

The interview went south very quickly and the fact he knew nothing about football was the least of his worries. It ended with Caroline annoyed that he hadn’t bothered to do his research or take her seriously. If Klaus was being honest she was right but it also had a lot to do with her mother’s presence and obvious intentions to matchmake. 

His cell buzzed indicating a call from his brother-in-law. He’d already let the last three go to voicemail so figured he should just answer. 

“What in the hell did you do?” 

“No hello, how are you, mate?”

“Don’t mate me,” he growled. “What did you do to Caroline Forbes? You do realise that her publicist has the ability to emasculate someone over the phone, right?”

“And did she?”

“No comment,” he muttered like a true journalist, telling Klaus that she most definitely had. He didn’t know the woman but his respect for her had skyrocketed in that moment. 

Although he and Marcel were brothers and now colleagues at the Times, Klaus loved to tease him incessantly. If someone had told him years ago that they’d all be working together as a family he would have laughed. They were all billionaires and the Mikaelson Publishing empire boasted a multitude of newspapers across the globe but Esther’s last wish in her will was that they’d work together on the New York Times in all capacities. 

For a family that had spent so much time apart, Esther was determined to do what she could to bring them together. Sure they fought, a lot, but Klaus had decided it wasn’t half bad. He loved the arts scene and was happy to be the editor of that section. In New York, especially, it was one of the most read, no doubt due to his knowledge and passion for the subject.   

“You realise I’m not into NFL at all, right?”

“That’s why I gave you all that information to study on the airplane, genius,” he drawled. “It is called research.” 

“I started but then fell asleep it was that boring.”

“Of course you did,” he shot back. “But I know you are the king of pretence, so what actually happened?”

“Nothing,” Klaus lied. 

“So convincing,” he growled. “What happened? Otherwise I call Bonnie’s publicist, who by the way happens to be the emasculating one, and cancel the interview.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Then obviously you don’t know me very well after all these years,” he goaded. 

“Turns out I was seated next to her mother during the game who was hellbent on matchmaking us,” he explained. “Then she appeared during the interview and given my brief knowledge of the NFL and that added surprise things kind of became awkward and fell apart.”

“So you were attracted to her?”

“Excuse me?”

“Klaus Mikaelson can pretend in any situation, I’ve witnessed it. Seems like you really like this one. I’m sure Rebekah will be happy to know that you have a heart buried under all that hostility.” 

“You have every right to question my professionalism Marcellus but this conversation is entering into something resembling the twilight zone. And I have an interview to do.”

“This isn’t over,” he warned before disconnecting. Klaus knew he had other more pressing concerns and felt bad that his behaviour had interrupted that.

Removing his coat and scarf on entry to the gallery, Klaus looked around curiously. The artwork adorning the walls was stunning as expected but the best view was at 3 o’clock. 

He wasn’t expecting her but it seemed as if the universe was giving him a second chance. She looked beautiful, obviously it was her default setting, and was standing by the artist in question sipping champagne.

Klaus was a confident person for the most part but he felt rooted to the spot, unsure of what to do or say. This was most definitely a first.

“So, you’re the arrogant reporter Marcel sent?” She deduced. Klaus hadn’t even realised her presence until then. 

“I’m assuming you’re the woman who can emasculate without any warning? Kudos to you, I’ve always wanted that power over my brother-in-law just to mess with him.”

“I see my reputation precedes me,” she chuckled. “Marcel likes to pretend he’s the man but...”

“He’s really not,” Klaus finished. “To be fair he’s been dealing with a few issues on the home front. So, sending me wasn’t his fault.”

“I only emasculate for fun,” she murmured, a new sincerity creeping into her voice. “Marcel is a good guy and I’m sure whatever he’s dealing with will turn out okay.” 

Klaus wasn’t quite so sure but plastered the same brave face he’d mastered recently. “I’m sure. Although I’m curious why you’d let me interview Bonnie after what happened with...”

“Caroline? I’ll admit it was a concern but I’m going to put it out there and say other forces were at work last night.”

“Other forces?”

“Well, Liz for one thing. As much as I love her like a mother she can be extremely intense and nothing gets in the way of finding a suitable partner for Caroline.”

“I can concur,” he replied from experience. 

“Plus, Caroline hasn’t stopped verbally abusing you since the interview and we all know what that means.”

“Means?”

“Look, your expertise and reach in the art world is amazing so interviewing Bonnie was a no brainer. But if it leads to something else with my other stubborn client, I’m not going to be upset.”

“Something else?” She breezed past him to avoid responding. Maybe he didn’t like her that much. His eyes found Carolines and suddenly Klaus felt stuck without much hope of moving. This was most definitely a first.

10 minutes later...

Why was he here, of all places? 

Caroline wasn’t one to obsess over much but seeing Klaus here after last night was messing with her composure. After he fumbled through the interview, Caroline decided he was just like the others. For some reason it hurt more than she’d expected. 

“I can see you thinking,” she quipped. 

“I was thinking how amazing your work is, Bon,” she smiled, squeezing her hand and hoping her innermost thoughts weren’t really on display.  

“Liar,” she joked. “Not about my art. Seems like someone else has gotten under your skin.”

“Just a lazy journalist who has now turned up to interview you, I hope he treats you better than he did me.”

“Have you spoken to Liz?”

“What does she have to do with this?” Caroline murmured, suddenly perplexed. 

“Kat tells me she sat herself next to your ‘lazy’ journalist in hopes of matchmaking the two of you at the game from the outset, then turned up at the interview...”

“Oh god, no,” she hissed, head in hands. “Tell me it’s not true.” A few moments passed telling Caroline it was in fact the opposite. “If she wasn’t my mom...”

“It will be a cute story to tell your kids,” she joked. 

“Kids?” She knew it was him before he arrived at such an awkward moment. 

“An age you can relate to,” she bit out, unable to help herself. 

“Ouch,” he acknowledged. “I get it, I was a bad interviewer for so many reasons but just know it was never personal. I happen to think what you’ve achieved is amazing.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes and the fact I know nothing about football probably wasn’t the best way to meet. I’m an arts editor and was filling in but I should have made more of an effort.”    

“So, you’re not a Bear’s fan then?”

“I’m not a fan of any team,” he admitted sheepishly. “In America that is. Your mum was a really good coach when it came to it, well except for the whole matchmaking scheme.”

“And for that I am extremely sorry,” she smiled, glad that things between them had softened somewhat. She’d always been protective over her heart and it seemed easy to write Klaus off as just another ass but it turns out he had persisted. “Liz can be extremely intense.”

“I kind of liked her, even if she did steal my popcorn at half time. Plus she did coach me about everything NFL.”

“Explains a lot,” she offered. “I’d be happy to redo the interview tomorrow if you’re free and have of course studied up on the team?”

“I need to be back in New York unfortunately,” Klaus winced. “Not many people know this but my sister is unwell and expecting some test results tomorrow and it’s vital we all be there.”

Caroline didn’t need any more information, it was obvious this guy was loyal to his family. He also seemed to like her mom which was a big tick in her book. Maybe she’d misjudged him after all. 

“Of course.”

“But I’d be more than happy to reschedule when you’re free?” Caroline paused for a moment, trying to hide her excitement. 

“In the interest of full disclosure I thought you should know that I’m a Liverpool fan,” she said, her lips finding their way to his ear given the noise reverberating throughout the room. 

“Then I’m not sure you and this Manchester United fan can be friends, love,” his knowing tone telling Caroline he was smirking. “But surely we can work something out?”

“Maybe we can.”

Turns out opposites did attract and Liz Forbes was a great match maker, not that Klaus or Caroline would admit it aloud. 

[tinymixtapes]

Feature: Insomniac Focus

Drew McDowall’s work extends well before Coil’s 1998 album Time Machines, but his major releases from that work to now is more than enough to explore. Coil fans, I know you’re set. It’s partly you who I had in mind when I welched on my assignment for his latest solo album, The Third Helix. You likely have alerts on this guy, and no amount of critical descriptors (“harrowing,” “cavernous,” “dreamscape,” “hallucinatory,” “bleak,” “trance-inducing,” etc.) are going to make any difference to you. And, as for neophytes, McDowall is not only an easy sell, but one who you likely have to get to ass backwards. And in these diffuse, cherry pick-enabling internet times, that’s something. We tend to keep our paths of discovery close to the vest against the snotty record store clerk in our heads. I say “we,” because I’m a newbie myself at 38. I did meet a classmate in my junior year of college who tried to help me with my post-NIN fan, small town ignorance, but it was to little effect. I don’t wanna admit I got into Blackest Ever Black and PAN artists before McDowall, but it’s true. There is no tomorrow, so allow me to show my ass in this regard. It took time — and a closer friend with a staggering record collection — to show me the way. I won’t blame blowing my assignment on anything but me, but I will offer the assertion that Drew McDowall’s music is alive in ways that language is not. Although McDowall, John Balance, and Peter Christopherson collaborated on Time Machines, you could hardly call it a conversation. It feels more like an unstable, massive hum, with the creative instinct of human interference put in restraints. It’s the sound of artists getting out of their own way, carving out a path for something that doesn’t sing so much as surge like blood or water or electricity (it resists analogy, so I’m inclined to reach for more elementary terms). If the intention was to induce the loss of a sense of time, it dissolved critical faculties in the process as well. It is sound happening to you. Whatever a train does to you when you hear it, before you even begin to get to the typical leitmotifs. Whatever a tuning orchestra makes you feel, before you remind yourself not to feel anything about it. There is suspense, sure, but there’s also the flat pulse of pure sensation. Time Machines hunkers down and dispels reaction in favor of presence. Of true immersion. Of rote and unquestioning self-sacrifice to a sensorily consuming source. The tracks being named after psychotropic drugs and the perhaps unavoidable (there’s always “repeat all”) reality of their finiteness are the only things stopping this machine. It has you without a hello. Time Machines hunkers down and dispels reaction in favor of presence. Of true immersion. It’s curious that this towering, uncompromisingly minimal work is collaborative, while his eventual solo material doesn’t shy from a comparatively genre-friendly, kitchen-sink aesthetic. But more on that in a bit. First, a decade-plus later, some more from the creative alliance dept. Having familiarized myself with Psychic Ills, McDowall’s collaboration with Tres Warren as Compound Eye was on my 2013 radar. Their music intrigued in ways that the sturdy psych rawk of Psychic Ills never did. I liked it enough to save it, but never got too deep. So McDowall’s presence didn’t properly register until researching him this year, even after the aforementioned friend gave me his free download code for 2017’s Unnatural Channel. Having familiarized myself with McDowall, it’s easy to see that the man never quite got triggering-then-getting-out-the-way-of-strong-currents out of his system in the intervening years. It contains that blissful, sci-fi pastoral modular babbling that is really nothing to turn off, but the album is balanced with the (watch me writhe, beset by stultifying magnetic poetry adjectives) vast, impassive coursings of McDowall’s high water mark material. The album title, Journey From Anywhere, reinforces the notion of not ruining vital elements of sonic procession with basic human shit. Both are men, with presumable communication skills, but never does conversation seem like an apt analogy. Their collaboration is a numb sort of cooperative sentience, toiling as a vessel for steady, sluicing flow. Destiny being God and human’s favorite crap joke alike, the void really deserves more credit. Compound Eye’s shimmering, delicate, 69-minute reverie comes across like a humble attempt to give the nothing its due. It simmers in rote bodily function reality, even as it attempts to merge with the least dense, most windless air it can manage to breathe. Another collaborative work, The Ghost of Georges Bataille (released on Bank earlier this year), is less of a curious animal, but enticing nonetheless. Hiro Kone (a.k.a. Nicky Mao) specializes in elegant digital snowdrift downtempo. She, like McDowall, is a friend to contemplative melancholy as a default mode. But similarly to McDowall, she’s careful to augment her traditional rainstreaked Aphex brooding with character-rich textures that teeter on the brink of encroachment. Here, McDowall pushes this bordering that much closer. Each haunted progression is enshrouded with warm yet disorienting clamor. Similarly to the post-Boards re-tooling of Dalhous, Bataille takes away the head-nod in favor of a swirled sort of distance. This blithe obfuscation renders that tradition of pastoral, half-remembered dream progressions that much more affecting. McDowall excels as a bit player as well. In 2015, he featured on Ben Greenberg’s (Sacred Bones engineer, Men) debut with Michael Berdan (York Factory Complaint) as Uniform. As much as the album is a scorcher par excellence and far superior (and I’m edging on apples/oranges territory here), what “Death Star” is to The Future of War, “Lost Causes” is to Perfect World. McDowall’s hermetic throb steals the show on an album of showstoppers. Then, ably displaying his adaptability to ambient techno, McDowall lent his modular chops to another album highlight on Hiro Kone’s 2017 album, Love is the Capital. “Rukhsana” is a shorter track, but it still bears the unmistakable fingerprints of McDowalls absorptive approach. With these drop ins, McDowall redeems the notion of the guest spot from mere name-dropping and seamlessly applies his methodology rather than his personal stamp. Now, back to 2015 and Drew McDowall’s first official solo release under his own name, Collapse. As I mentioned, McDowall wound up being decidedly less reductive once left to his own devices. Similarly to Prurient’s later output, there is a concerted effort to tacitly merge monophonic direness with monolithic earthen beast-sloughing reverbations, whelmed to the edge of over. Dark monophony has retained a lasting power, even if the grubby fingers of branding-obsessed metal aestheticians have rendered its keenings almost cute. These are the ones who cry “false metal,” which in and of itself is false. It’s no different than complaining about how football has changed or how a comic book adaptation oughta be. True artisans of inner and outer darkness are not beholden to purist genre fetishism. They survive, thrive, and die by their virtue in this exploration. By their unwaveringly limitless drive, we are able to imbibe the vast shimmering terror innate to existence. While Collapse may not be the most chilling thing out there, its black satin bug eyes affix you to where you are and evaporate your culture-soaked lunges for contextual asidery. Collapse by Drew McDowall True artisans of inner and outer darkness are not beholden to purist genre fetishism. They survive, thrive, and die by their virtue in this exploration. Things only seemed to get better with 2017’s Unnatural Channel, though it’s of a piece enough that “seem” might be the operative word. There are two tracks featuring words/vocals from Roxy Farman (of superb NYC duo Wetware, also a guest on the Hiro Kone album), but the key adjustment is a Vanity Records-like focus on the embracing of silent rests. Of course, the fidelity is higher, but the unrelenting hesitation of that legendary label’s best material (namely, Tolerance’s 1981 LP, Divin) is a curious early precedent. Even with the presence of a singer, Farman’s recitation of “this is what it’s like, sleep deprived” is just as innately infused as the “I convulsed” sample on the last record. And her whooping and schizo mutterances on closer “Recognition” are essential but unshowy bits of punctuation. All spaciousness aside, the tetanus textured throb of “Unnatural Channel (Part 2)” is a sort of head-nodder, but even this winds up being more of a cautious slink through a confusing party (boring? bad scene? twisted? brilliant?) than a departure. Although the bowstring bouncing on The Third Helix opener echoes Unnatural Channel’s “Tell Me The Name,” “Rhizome” initially feels like a proper departure. Not unlike the airy skittering of Actress’s R.I.P, this tune initially seemed like a wrong turn. It’s lovely, especially when the “Sinking of the Titanic” strings come in, but it feels almost lateral rather than expansive. The touchstones come too easy. It’s a fascinating track, the way it swells and glitches out abruptly, but it’s also strangely on-the-nose for this artist. Things get better and back to the same (“Proximity” sounds cut from the same cloth) from there, but one couldn’t be blamed for mistaking Third Helix for a Helm, Fis, or post-Virgins Tim Hecker album. Of course, he is a sort of godfather to said touchstones, but similarly to the atemporal realm of Time Machines, this sort of sine wave slippage reads more familiar than it actually is. And, for what it’s worth, why shouldn’t masters be genuinely influenced by their descendants (beyond tokenistic exaggerations)? Chances are, they are beholden to a lot of the same technology anyway. Taken another way, McDowall’s newest is a sort of long-distance collaboration with those who’ve been inspired by him and his rarefied peer group. Conscious or not, its blending with the aesthetics of younger, like-minded artists could be seen as a rejection of the notion of hierarchy in musical succession, one way or the other. The Third Helix is an endearingly solid listen, and it deserves a place among the heralded releases of 2018. Similarly to the previous two (all on Dais), the album’s tracks don’t stray too far past the five-minute mark. Despite this, they stretch out in the ears like ancient aural cobwebs, making one feel as lived-in as the planet itself. I’ve tried not to use the word “innovation” here. Too often, the notion of innovation is whittled down to novelty, and reinventing the wheel is not what makes McDowall’s third-act material so worthwhile. More so, it’s the sense of earnest drive. The deep affinity for life’s rich tangent. That it’s darkly fixated is no more material than that the blues are despondent. Actually, the best of that long deracinated-to-pilloried genre has much of the same turning-oneself-inside-out quality. Even if Drew McDowall never tops himself or others in this quietly industrious field of wide-eyed abstraction, he is set to remain a stirring essential to every cerebral wandering ear, regardless of prerequisites or lack thereof. http://j.mp/2RBEqkz

[brn1029]

Here’s what went down on this date in music history...

March 24th

1958 - Elvis Presley

At 6.35am, Elvis Presley reported to the Memphis draft board. From there Elvis and twelve other recruits were taken by bus to Kennedy Veterans Memorial Hospital where the singer was assigned army serial number 53310761.

1965 - The Beatles

The Beatles continued filming Help! at Twickenham Studios, England. They shot the interior temple scenes, including the one where they dive through a hollow sacrificial altar and into water. That scene was then cut to the swimming pool scene filmed in the Bahamas on February 23.

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1965 - The Temptations

The Temptations released 'Its Growing', the follow-up to 'My Girl'. The track was the first to feature David Ruffin as the Temptations new lead singer. Interestingly both 'My Girl' and 'Its Growing' were the only Motown tunes ever covered by Otis Redding.

1966 - Simon and Garfunkel

Simon And Garfunkel made their UK singles chart debut with 'Homeward Bound.' Paul Simon is said to have written the song at Farnworth railway station, Widnes, England, while stranded overnight waiting for a train. A plaque is displayed in the station to commemorate this, although memorabilia hunters have stolen it many times. The song describes his longing to return home, both to his then girlfriend, Kathy Chitty in Brentwood, Essex, England, and to return to the United States. The song was also a No.5 hit in the US.

1973 - Lou Reed

During a Lou Reed show in Buffalo, New York, a fan jumped on stage and bit Lou on the bottom. The man was thrown out of the theatre and Reed completed the show.

1973 - O'Jays

The O'Jays went to No.1 on the US singles chart with 'Love Train.' The song's lyrics of unity mention a number of countries, including England, Russia, China, Egypt and Israel, as well as the continent of Africa.

1976 - Wayne County

Transvestite singer Wayne County appeared in court charged with assault after an incident at New York club CBGB's. County had attacked Dictators singer Handsome Dick Manitoba with a mike stand fracturing his collarbone.

1977 - Fleetwood Mac

Fleetwood Mac released 'Dreams' from their eleventh studio album Rumours which became their first and only US No.1 hit single. Stevie Nicks wrote the song in early 1976 at the Record Plant studio in Sausalito, California in around 10 minutes, on a day when she wasn't required in the main studio.

1979 - Bee Gees

The Bee Gees started a two week run at No.1 on the US singles chart with 'Tragedy', the group's eighth US No.1. and also No.1 in the UK.

1985 - Philip Bailey

'Easy Lover' by Philip Bailey and Phil Collins was at No.1 on the UK singles chart. Bailey was a former vocalist with Earth, Wind & Fire. Phil Collins produced, drummed and sang on the track. 'Easy Lover' won an MTV Video Music Award for Best Overall Performance in a Video.

1986 - Van Halen

Van Halen released their seventh studio album 5150 (pronounced fifty-one-fifty) which became their first album to top the US chart. The first of four albums to be recorded with lead singer Sammy Hagar, who replaced David Lee Roth was named after Eddie Van Halen's home studio, 5150, in turn named after a California law enforcement term for a mentally disturbed person.

1992 - Milli Vanilli

A Chicago court settled the Milli Vanilli class action suit by approving cash rebates of up to $3 (£1.76) to anyone proving they bought the group’s music before November 27 1990, the date the lip synching scandal broke. Milli Vanilli won the 1989 best new artist Grammy after hits like 'Blame it on the Rain' and 'Girl, You Know It's True,' selling 30 million singles and 14 million albums. But in late 1990, the performers were stripped of the award after it was revealed that neither actually sang on the Milli Vanilli album.

1997 - Harold Melvin

Harold Melvin singer with Philly soul group Harold Melvin & the Blue Notes, died aged 57. They dad the 1972 US No.3 & 1974 UK No.9 single 'If You Don't Know Me By Know' and 1973 hit ‘The Love I Lost.’

2000 - Yoko Ono

A film company paid £635,000, ($1,079,500) for over nine hours of film shot during the 70s by Yoko Ono's first husbandTony Cox. The film contained shots of John Lennon smoking hash and talking about his political beliefs.

2001 - The Allman Brothers Band

A stretch of road on Highway 19 in Macon, Georgia, was named Duane Allman Boulevard, near where The Allman Brothers Band guitarist died aged 24 in a motorcycle crash on October 29, 1971.

2009 - Phil Spector

The prosecutor in the Phil Spector murder retrial told the jury he was a 'demonic maniac' when he drinks and 'a very dangerous man' around women. Deputy District Attorney Truc Do urged jurors to find the music producer guilty of murdering Hollywood actress Lana Clarkson in 2003. During her closing argument, she also accused Mr Spector of demonstrating a 'conscious disregard for human life'.

2013 - The Beatles

Pictures of The Beatles' 1965 Shea Stadium concert, taken by an amateur photographer who bluffed his way backstage, sold for £30,000 at auction. Marc Weinstein used a fake press pass to get next to the stage for the historic New York show. His 61 black and white images with copyright fetched £30,680, the successful bidder was a South American gentleman currently living in Washington who is a huge collector of Beatles memorabilia