#i know i posted a link to this playlist like 2 weeks ago but what if i made a graphic for it instead of making dinner?

[micamicster]

A soundtrack for an as-yet theoretical tv show

[skzstannie]

“We’d never want you to struggle alone”

SKZ-> ot8 x 9th member! reader

genre: angst wc: ~2100 cw: mentions of depression and death of family members, hatred for the holidays

Hi guys! Here’s my attempt at some Christmas/holiday angst. The fluffy Part 2 is posted and linked at the bottom of this post!

Feedback and likes/reblogs are greatly appreciated! I haven't got the chance to interact with too many people on here yet, so reach out if you'd like!

Happy scrolling!

"Hey guys, I'm pretty tired. I think I'm gonna head to bed. Chan Oppa, I'm gonna go lay down in your room until everyone's ready to go back to our dorm," you wave off their comments asking you to stay with them and make your way to the leader's bedroom.

It's December 20th, and the guys are all gathered around the television in the 3Racha/Hyunjin dorm, binge watching Christmas movies. During a normal year, you'd all be at your own homes with your families, cozying up to the fireplaces and drinking hot chocolate with your siblings. However, this was no normal year, and your comeback ran too close to the holidays, not allowing you nor the boys to go home for Christmas. Not that you particularly minded; you hated the holidays.

You imagine what you'd be doing at home right now, no doubt curled up in your bed with an exciting romance novel, listening to some dark academia playlist you'd found on YouTube.

But you're not home, you're stuck here with a bunch of Christmas-crazed dorks who have spent the last few weeks decorating your dorms full of all things Santa Claus. You've been managing to sneak away whenever any holiday-esque activities are taking place. You've not told them of your hatred towards the holidays, and you're not really planning to, either, not wanting to be the reason their fun-filled nights are ruined; they're already sad enough about not being able to head home for the holidays, the last thing you want to do is be a scrooge. So, you’ve resorted to humbly excusing yourself, busying yourself with your own activities when the occasion arises.

As you walk into Chan's room, you take notice of all the little trees he has decorating his room. Cute. You pick up the picture of his family he has resting on his nightstand beside his bed. You stare at his mom, dad, siblings, and grandparents smiling faces, feeling the familiarly unavoidable pit in your stomach form.

Your parents and one set of your grandparents passed away in a car wreck about five years ago, before you debuted with the guys. Your other grandparents, your mother's parents, passed away before you were born, never getting the opportunity to meet them. So, that left just you and your brother. Your brother, being a few years older than you, started his own family the summer after your parents passed. He has a beautiful wife and two children now, one boy and one girl. They got right to baby-making after they got married, so excited to start a family of their own. Unfortunately, that family never included you. You only know of their children because you’re mutuals with your sister-in-law on social media.

Your brother essentially ghosted you after his first child was born. You two were never the closest sibling duo, but you never expected him to completely drop you and ignore your existence. But he did, and that's just something you have learned to live with.

You were not in a healthy place after all this happened. You had no one to go to when your heart was breaking, grieving the loss of both your dead and alive family members. You put all your focus into the trainee program, all your sadness and anger towards the world into your dance and song. Chan eventually found you on that one fateful day that you deemed saved your life. You were at the lowest of your low, and you thought you had finally reached your breaking point, but then walked in Christopher Bang Chan, all smiles and laughter. He recruited you to be in his group as one of the first, right after Han. From then on, you had another reason to keep going, to keep fighting.

You've never told the guys this. You have always been a more reserved member, keeping all of your personal life out of the spotlight. While the boys never heard you talk much about your family, really only knowing you have a brother, they always thought that, when you went home for the holidays, you went home to a nice big house filled with love. They thought when you walked in the doors to your childhood home, you were welcomed in by your parents with opened arms, beckoning you in. They thought you spent your Christmas mornings opening nicely wrapped presents, followed by a home-cooked breakfast that'd be shared amongst your family.

They didn't know of the single bedroom apartment you called yours. They didn't know of the bareness that captured your living room, baren of all things Christmas and the lack of Christmas cookies and presents on Christmas Day. They didn't know you've always spent your holidays alone.

Honestly, you were completely fine with their assumptions. You didn't need nor want their pity. Your family was still an incredibly sensitive topic to you. Before their passing, you were so very close. You'd spent every holiday together, enjoying your time as a family, doing all the cliche things. You'd even gone caroling a few times, walking around your childhood neighborhood singing the classic Christmas songs off-key to your friendly neighbors.

Afraid you'd spiral, leading you right back to how you'd been before Chan found you, you never brought it up, and the boys never pushed you to talk about your family. They figured you were normal with a mom, dad, and a loving brother-so what's to talk about?

The holidays have never felt the same; you knew they wouldn't. So why try? Why go through the effort of making yourself a nice Christmas dinner, attending church on Christmas eve and waking up early Christmas morning, when you knew your parents wouldn't be there to greet you. When you knew your grandmother wouldn't be there to give you the biggest hug she could muster in her old age. When your grandfather wouldn't be there to give you a hearty pat on the back, his only true form of physical affection you'd ever experienced in all your years with him.

A quiet knock pulls you out of your thoughts, and in walks Felix with a glass of milk in hand. You quickly set down the picture frame you didn't realize you were still holding and give him a warm smile.

"Hey, what's up?" you ask him, taking the glass from him and sipping on the cold beverage.

"I just wanted to make sure you were feeling alright. You've been pretty distant for a couple weeks now. Is everything ok?"

You're a little caught off guard, this being the first time anyone's noticed your pulling back since the beginning of December. You honesty didn't even realize anyone was paying attention to you, all of them too caught up in the festive activities and excitement of the season.

"Yea, I mean, I'm fine. Just a bit of seasonal depression," you write off his concerns.

"I didn't know you had that," Felix ponders his thoughts for a minute, giving you a loving look. "Is there anything I can do to help? Have you always had seasonal depression?"

While looking into Felix's warm, brown eyes, you decide that keeping all these things from them all these years has been unfair. They're never afraid of sharing their personal struggles with you. You think back to all the times Han's came to you with anxiety, and how you've wanted nothing more than to take away all his worry and pain. How Seungmin's came to you with his insecurities, and you always hyping him up, calling him the most beautiful boy. If any of them had kept their struggling to themselves, it'd crush you. How dare they feel like they couldn't come to you? Why would they want to struggle alone?

You realize that these feelings are most definitely reciprocated by the guys. Now, feeling vulnerable after being left alone with your thoughts for so long, you have the dire urge to come clean about your family.

"Actually Felix, I've been struggling with this for quite some time now. Can you, maybe just, listen? I've never talked to anyone about this, but I want to now. I want you guys to know," you fiddle with your hands, sliding one of your rings on and off your finger.

"Of course! You can always talk to me. Go ahead, I'm listening." He grabs your hand, halting your fidgeting. You look up at him, take a deep breath, and let it all out. Everything you've been holding onto these last few years. It probably sounds like word vomit, all your feelings and hardships falling out of your mouth at lightning speed. You finish your rambling, and you finally have the courage to look up at his face again.

He's crying. Equipped with all the theatrics, the wobbly lip and rosy cheeks. You made Felix cry with all your problems. You reach up to his cheek, wiping a few of his falling tears.

"Ok, I think I'm done," you freeze as Felix also brings his index finger up to your cheek. You flinch when he pulls away, seeing the dampness of it.

You're crying, too. You didn't even realize. I mean, it makes sense. You just trauma dumped all of your troubles onto Felix, the world's most renowned empath, of course you'd be crying.

You guys sit in silence for a minute, before Felix's whimpers become audible. He's so visibly distraught, and your heart breaks even more just at the mere sight of him.

He launches himself at you, clinging to you so tightly you think your ribs may crack. He tackles you back onto the bed, resting on top of you.

"Why did you never tell us this?" his sobs wreck through his body, his arms trembling around you, "We could've helped you."

"I was scared," you wriggle one of your arms free of his embrace, using it to affectionately run your hand through his hair. Your sobs join together as one, both of you a mess. "I was scared you guys would pity me, or look at me less. I was scared that I'd spiral again if I talked about it."

"Well, we're here now, Jagiya." He sits up after a few minutes. His cries have quieted, and so have yours. "We aren't going to let you continue going through this alone, ya know. We are one, and if one of us is hurting, we're all hurting. Please don't keep things like this from us anymore." He begs, standing from the bed. He grabs your hand and pulls you up, making his way towards the door.

"Where are we going?" your voice shakes and you pull away from Felix, standing in the middle of Chan's room. You wrap your arms around your middle, feeling more exposed than you ever have before.

"You know we have to tell the rest of them. They deserve to know, too."

"Felix, I don't think I can tell the story again. Once was enough for a lifetime."

"OK, do you feel comfortable with me telling them? I'll tell them exactly what you told me, no more, no less, ok?"

You frantically nod your head, grateful for Felix's suggestion.

He blows you a playful kiss, no doubt trying to make you feel better, and he leaves to go to the living room. You take your seat back down on the side of the bed and wait patiently for Felix to finish.

You don't hear much for the next few minutes, but you're startled by the swinging open of the door, the handle cracking against Chan's poor wall. Han stands there, a dazed look on his face. His glassy eyes meet yours, and you shriek when he takes off, leaping onto the bed onto your small frame. He wraps you up in a big hug, squeezing the life out of you.

"We love you, and we'd never want you to struggle alone. We're in this life together."

One by one, the rest of the guys make their way into the room onto the bed. We're haphazardly thrown into a cuddle pile of sorts. A cuddle pile filled with the love and adoration you've been missing during the holidays.

You all lay in each other's arms, and you feel incredibly comfortable and safe. Chan's the first to break the silence, "We have five days left until Christmas. What do you say we make some new Christmas traditions? We don't want to replace what you used to have, and you’re entitled to spend your Christmas season as you'd like. But, if you'll let us, we’ll give you something to look forward to about the holidays again. Please?" The guys are all looking at you now, each of them displaying a face that could rival a sad puppy.

You realize now that there's nothing to be scared of. These are your best friends you're talking about, who want nothing but to shower you in love and happiness.

"I'd love that."

Part 2

[writingquestionsanswered]

Not sure if this was asked before but... how do you get your *passion* back for writing - or any old hobbies at all? Maybe bc of ADHD, but I used to hyperfixate on writing, reading and other things. They were my world. Now, when I actually have time to write... my interest is meh. Mild. Barely exists. But I'm still interested. Just not passionate. My heart doesn't flutter at new OC ideas anymore - or ships. Or family dynamics. I'm bored... what gives?

ADHD: Interested in Writing, But Not Passionate

I really struggled with this. Mainly, because I have a hard time wrapping my head around, "My interest barely exists but I'm still interested." I can't make sense of that.

I've written three different versions of an answer, none of which I liked in the end, because I think the long and the short of it is this: you can be interested in writing generally, but stuck on a WIP or unable to get started generally. And there are all sorts of reasons why you can be stuck on a WIP or unable to get started generally (including executive dysfunction... thanks, ADHD!) However, at the end of the day, if writing was a hyperfixation for you, that may be all it ever was. Even if some part of you is still "interested."

Which brings me to a story from answer attempt #2, which I think is still worth sharing. Years ago, I hyperfixated for weeks on a particular historical topic. I couldn't get enough. I read about it, watched documentaries about it, subscribed to magazines about it, fell down topic-related rabbit holes for hours at a time. My brain needed to understand every single thing there was to know about the topic, which was troublesome because everything about this topic isn't known... even by those who study it.

One day, my attention shifted to something else, but I never really lost the "interest" in this topic. My ears still perk when I hear something about it. I still skim articles about it when they come up on social media. I would probably pause in my channel surfing if I happened on a documentary about it. But my interest isn't the same. It's not enough for me to dive in to the extent that I did when it was a hyperfixation. And this was tested by the fact that not long ago, I visited a museum with a whole wing dedicated to this topic. And I knew it was a big deal that I was there, and that hyperfixated me would have blown a gasket out of sheer joy, but I just wasn't able to engage with the exhibits the way I wanted to or felt I should. I was looking at the artifacts and absorbing the words on the exhibition labels, but I wasn't feeling anything about it. It all fell flat. Which was kind of depressing, to be honest.

So, I'm telling that story because I think there's a very real possibility that may be what's happening for you with writing. It may just be a hyperfixation that still interests you in some way, but which can never really inspire that same level of interest you once had--unless you become hyperfixated on it again, but there's no way to force that. And there's no way to know for sure if that's what's going on except to try some of the things suggested in the links below to see if you can troubleshoot a cause or kick start your motivation. If not, it may just be something you did once and may come back to again eventually. ♥

Guide: Filling Your Creative Well Guide: How to Rekindle Your Motivation to Write Getting Excited About Your Story Again Getting Unstuck: Motivation Beyond Mood Boards & Playlists 5 Reasons You Lost Interest in Your WIP, Plus Fixes! Feeling Unmotivated with WIP

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I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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[beliell]

Monster headcanon playlist - a summary - part I

Hi, everyone! A week ago I’ve decided to make a Monster (Naoki Urasawa’s work) playlist, available now on Spotify

This posts it has not only been created to share this sum of songs but to illustrate more about my decision of why to choose some of the musics as well. It contains my personal opinion about the masterpiece but canonical events as well.

75 songs were added into that playlist, but I’m going to give a raise on the 10 top songs (5 songs in this first part of post), dividing into english songs and german/russian songs. Yep, german/russian songs ‘cause I believe this representation it is very important to the drama and It’s something I didn’t see in other playlists (sorry not sorry)

Disclaimer: We all know that Monster focus on the German and Czech events, but the choice to add specific Russian songs instead of Czech were mostly personnal.

Let’s go!

1. ‘HOME’, by Heems

All I got is the sweater that you left, the letters that I kept, That spoke of how you liked when I kissed you on the neck, And I held you as you wept, Yeah, I held you as we slept, I held you as we crept, I've been a mess since I met you, I regret you, You could say I love what's regretful. You got me, I get you, If I could, I'd forget you, But I can't since I've left you, I let you, If I could, I'd forget you, I would be more forgetful. When it's cold outside, yeah, I miss you, But we had too many issues.

Err...I don't even have to explain this first one. The end of the relationship profoundly marks Eva, who develops depression and alchool issues as a way to deal with it, throught the drama. Tenma it is severe impacted as well, but more in a 'rush' away, as slowly losing all establish that he had one day as a men.

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

2. ‘Erschießen’, by IDEAL 

Komm, wir lassen uns erschießen, zwei Schüsse mitten ins Gehirn. Komm, wir lassen uns erschießen, ich hab nichts zu verlier'n. Komm, wir lassen uns erschießen, Sonntag morgens 5 vor 10. Ich kann den Sonntag nicht ertragen, und ich will keinen Montag sehn.

TRANSLATION: (🇩🇪)

Come on, let us be shot, two shots right into the brain. Come on, let us be shot, I don't have anything to lose. Come on, let us be shot, on sunday mornings 5 minutes before 10. I can't stand sundays, and I don't want to see mondays anymore.

Err...I won't even loose more than one paragraph about this one.

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

3. ‘Goodbye Horses’, by Q Lazzarus

He told me, I've seen it all before, I've been there, I've seen my hopes and dreams, A lying on the ground, I've seen the sky just begin to fall, He say, "All things pass into the night", And I say, "Oh no sir, I must say you're wrong, I must disagree, oh no sir, I must say you're wrong", Won't you listen to me.

This is a song that I've listening to since I've discovered that were on 'The Silence of the Lambs (1991)' OST.

This book it’s very special to me and it is totally referable to the Urasawa's works due to psychological link they both have. Also, this lyric seems to me like a intimate mono-dialogue between Tenma, who represents hopes and Liebert, the tragical twin, conducting the conversation.

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

4. ‘Roman Candle’, by Elliott Smith

'He played himself, Didn't need me to give him hell, He could be cool and cruel to you and me, Knew we'd put up with anything.

I want to hurt him, I want to give him pain, I'm a roman candle, My head is full of flames, I'm hallucinating, Hallucinating.'

It represents rage in a sum, right? The first parts reminded me of Bonaparta and the twin's relationship, so much abuse they've got into and how Liebert as kinda of develop to support a lot of problematic aspects of the worst in the human bein.

    The secound part tho..reminded of Tenma. He was writed to simbolize Light, but we all know that it wasn't something he always got right. His rage for all the crimes that Johan was commiting while transforming his life in a living hell...well, that wasn't something easy to perform throught it, we all know that.

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

5. ‘Was Hat Dich Bloß So Ruiniert’, by Die Sterne

Wo fing es an und wann? Was hat Dich irritiert? Was hat Dich bloss so ruiniert?

      TRANSLATION  (🇩🇪):

Where did it start and when? What irritated you? What was it that ruined you?

Mostly about child abuse and the consequences of it. The Grimmer arc gave me deep sad chills about those children experiments and how he manage to survive throught it.

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

The first part ends, I hope it was a good read. Remember, click here to listen to the playlist

[ambrossart]

HELLO AGAIN >:D

Two weeks ago (probably) I wrote something really long, but for some reason I was scared so I did it anonymously (I'm silly) BUT NOW I'm too happy for two reasons:

1) I'M ABOUT TO FINISH PAPER MEN AND IT'S INCREDIBLE, I think I'm missing about… 10 chapters, if I remember correctly. I'm taking advantage of my vacation week to keep up with the story, every time I read I put the playlist because something I really love is listening to music while I read <3. I could talk FOR HOURS about everything I've read about Paper Men, but it would make this message much longer than it should, sorry, I talk too much (especially when I like something, my friends are aware of that, sorry :c ) .

2) I have taken the courage to upload a one-shot of what is supposed to be a part of my IT fanfic. I mean, it was supposed to be part of the fanfic but in the end I ended up discarding it, but I liked what I wrote so much that I made it a canon one-shot (?? Now, I mention this because it really me make HAPPY if you read it and gave your opinion, It's the first time I write something like this, since I mainly write comedy or really silly things, nothing interesting. Idk if you accept this kind of thing and if so, I apologize :( . Now, if you are interested in reading at it, Here I leave you the link so you can read it on AO3, I also uploaded it on my Tumblr profile haha. I apologize again for the long text and the bad English, I'm really learning as much as I can.

I don't know what time it is, so I wish you a very good morning/afternoon/night <3

Hello!

You definitely have no reason to be scared (and hey, if you're more comfortable posting anonymously then that's totally fine, too), but I'm happy you felt comfortable enough to post under your name this time.

Anyway—

1) The last ten chapters are… well, let’s put it this way: I'm very curious to hear your thoughts on those because it gets a little messy toward the end. 😬 I'm glad you like to listen to the playlist, though. I always have the playlist on while writing because music is a major source of inspiration for me. And you don't have to apologize for talking too much because I always talk too much… usually about things nobody cares about. 😂 Whenever someone asks a question, I often tell them way more than they want to know, so… yeah, you’re in good company here.

2) I really enjoyed reading your one-shot! It's rare to see Henry so compassionate and supportive (and vocal in his support), so that was really interesting to me. I could definitely tell this is part of a larger work because there seems to be a lot more going on outside of this one scene. That's not necessarily a bad thing, of course, because it'll probably make people want to read your fic once you're finished with it! I hope that’s going well and, I gotta say, your English is coming along great! ❤️

[short-circuit-the-great]

I was tagged by @magic-ace in this post where they wanted me to answer all of them, so here it is:

🎱 ⇢ post your AO3 total stats

🍓 ⇢ how did you get into writing fanfiction?

A classic tale of "my favorite character didn't get enough screen time" led to this.

🌵 ⇢ share the link to a playlist you love

🕯️ ⇢ on a scale from 1 to 10, how much do you enjoy editing? why is that?

Give it a 5. I don't mind it but it's difficult to focus on the proofreading side of it.

🛼 ⇢ describe your latest wip with five emojis

🔥🔥🌞🔥🔥

🥑 ⇢ you accidentally killed somebody, which mutual(s) do you text for help?

@magic-ace @mecha-milkers @i-am-an-omen

🥤 ⇢ recommend an author or fanfic you love

I haven't finished it, but Descent by Zakharie.

💌 ⇢ how many unread emails do you have right now?

Zero.

🌻 ⇢ tag someone you appreciate but don't talk to on a regular basis

@brockendrems

🐇 ⇢ do you prefer writing original characters, reader inserts, or a mix of both?

Original characters. Reader inserts aren't for me.

🧃 ⇢ share some personal lore you never posted about before

I will share one of my favorite taekwondo stories from many years ago because I think it is funny. Two different short dads I was sparring with managed to accidentally nail me in the face with the same kick on two different occasions, months apart. (You cannot hit the face in taekwondo but going for a headshot it happens a lot.) The first time miraculously didn't knock out any teeth but my upper lip got stuck in my braces and I had to rip it out while laughing maniacally. I looked like a corpse for weeks. The second time was straight in the nose, so my nose is still slightly crooked and makes a crunchy noise if I wiggle it to this day.

Both of the dads felt terrible but I was a teenage boy so I thought blood on my uniform was cool.

The "short dad curse" was real for a bit there and the only reason it hasn't continued is because I am now the short dad myself.

🎲 ⇢ what stops you from writing more in your free time?

I don't have this problem.

🍄 ⇢ share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings

Knock Out and Breakdown roughhouse a lot.

🧸 ⇢ what's the fastest way to become your mutual?

Reblog my shit with silly tags.

🪐 ⇢ name three good things going on in your life right now

I'm learning to animate, which is cool.

I'm feeling a little more hopeful about finishing my degree.

My friends are wonderful.

📚 ⇢ what's the last thing you wrote down in your notes app?

I don't use the notes app.

🍬 ⇢ post an unpopular opinion about a popular fandom character

I know better than to share that on this hellsite.

🔪 ⇢ what's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project?

Typical murder-related writing searches.

🦷 ⇢ share some personal wisdom or a life hack you swear on

I got a small notebook to write tasks in, things I've done, what and when I ate, etc. This has been very helpful for memory loss and blackouts.

❄️ ⇢ what's your dream theme/plot for a fic, and who would write it best?

Don't have one, but one of these days I want to write something more hopeful, something along the lines of a 2010s-era superhero cartoon but as a novel. Don't have a plot for that one yet. It's rotating in my head, though.

🌿 ⇢ give some advice on writer's block and low creativity

One of the best pieces of writing advice I ever heard was "give yourself permission to suck." When you sit down to write you can't be fixated on making it perfect the first time. All your first draft has to do is exist. Anything you write down you can change later, but you gotta get it down first.

🥐 ⇢ name one internet reference that will always make you laugh

My roommate and I keep saying "inch resting" and "ingredience" to each other.

🏜️ ⇢ what's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work?

Any.

🍦 ⇢ name three good things about a character you hate

He makes admittedly funny puns. That's it. That's all I'm giving Silas.

🥝 ⇢ do you lie a lot? what's the most recent lie you told?

I don't lie except for safety.

🦋 ⇢ share something that has been on your heart and mind lately

Grief.

🦴 ⇢ is there a piece of media that inspires your writing?

A few.

🍅 ⇢ give yourself some constructive criticism on your own writing

Don't give my characters enough time to "rest"--it's one crisis after the other. That's the way I like it but someone get em therapy what the hell

🐚 ⇢ do you like or dislike surprises?

It depends what kind.

🪲 ⇢ add 50 words to your current wip and share the paragraph here

She barely made it halfway down to the gallows before something slammed into her, knocking her into the side of the building and shattering a line of windows. The crowd gasped and looked up, and then all Suncatcher could see was shadows and broken glass and the gun someone shoved into her face.

“If you can’t sit back and watch nicely,” Crossfire said, “then you can’t watch at all.”

“Go to hell,” Suncatcher said, and the blades on her forearms snapped out and stabbed into Crossfire’s midsection.

☁️ ⇢ what made you choose your username?

Thought ShortCircuit would be a good pen name for Transformers fanfic. It eventually became a new pen name overall, though I still use NobleRunaway in other spaces.

🐝 ⇢ tag your biggest supporter(s) and say one nice thing about them

@magic-ace @mecha-milkers @i-am-an-omen I love you guys so much. May your pancakes always be fresh.

🌸 ⇢ do you have any pets? if you do, post some pictures of them

So remember when I answered one of these with "grief"

🎨 ⇢ link your favourite piece of fanart and explain why you like it

This doodle of Knock Out because it speaks to me.

🧩 ⇢ what will make you click away from a fanfiction immediately?

I wrote an entire rant and deleted it because the internet can't read. But there is something and it falls under mischaracterization.

[tarabyte3]

Title: Wants, Needs, and Clerical Errors

Fandom: Andor

Characters/Pairings: Kino Loy, Kino Loy x F!Reader

Chapters: 3/3 (8.8k words)

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

AO3 Link | Playlist

Summary: You're only on Narkina 5 due to a mistake on your transfer paperwork and no one in charge seems to care. The work is horrific and being the only woman there is a nightmare, but Kino Loy is... intriguing. (Okay, he's hot. He's very hot.)

Tags: Explicit rating, smut, prison, prison sex, sex, oral sex, fingering, dirty talk, attempted sexual assault, fear of sexual assault, violence, blood, minor character death, fluff, happy ending

A/N: In terms of writing style, chapter 3 is my favorite. 🥺 If you've read this fic before, if you're reread it again because of this post, or you just discovered this fic for the first time: Thank you. I really hope you enjoyed it.

Chapter 3 - Like a flower waiting to bloom, Like a lightbulb in a dark room

Like the desert waiting for the rain Like a schoolkid waiting for the spring I'm just sitting here waiting for you To come on home and turn me on - Norah Jones, "Turn Me On"

You get out first.

You have two hundred and thirty eight days without him, which is fewer days than you had with him, but it still feels immense. Before, you had guards and work and routine keeping you apart, and now you have time. Though you're free and can move about as you please, or sit and do nothing if you want, there's still a weight on you that's holding you back from truly savoring it. As if a part of you is still in there, and, in a way, it is.

You have two hundred and thirty eight days and so you wait.

Your first stop is home to collect your meager possessions. You didn't have much to begin with, and, over the years while you were in prison, you ended up with even less. You don't blame your former flatmate for slowly downsizing your belongings. You're grateful she kept any of it at all. And she did keep the important stuff, like most of your clothes and gear, as well as a few sentimental items—the most important of which is a trinket box with a false bottom that holds credit chips you'd squirreled away in case of an emergency. It isn't much, but it's something.

No, having fewer things means there's less to get rid of yourself. So you grab your belongings, make the most uncomfortable attempts at small talk in which she intentionally avoids asking about or mentioning prison at all, you say thank you, and then you leave. And you don't look back.

It's all very anticlimactic. You imagined this scenario many times in your head your last few weeks on the inside because you weren't sure how it would go, and you couldn't exactly message her to let her know you were getting out. Now that it's over so quickly, you have no idea why you were worried. Even as you realize you'll never step foot here again, you feel nothing. No lingering sadness or regrets. No yearning to give the building one last look. That place stopped being home a long time ago.

You go directly back to a transport and purchase passage off planet. You and Kino had discussed this part many times. What you would do, where you would go, and where he would meet you. You'd settled on a colony in the Mid Rim that you both knew of, one with less Imperial control than some of the others—or last you heard anyway. It had plenty of people and industry so it wouldn't be too difficult to blend in and make a living. Two days after he gets out, you'll meet him at the station in the capital. It's a long journey to get there from Narkina 5. Your first flight doesn't take you all the way to your destination, either, but it gets you closer.

It also takes you farther away from him.

You'd wanted to stay close so that when he got out, you could travel to your new home together. But Kino had insisted you go ahead and settle in. Get as far away from Narkina 5 as you could. While you understood why he wanted that for you, you didn't have the heart to tell him there is no way you can be comfortable anywhere until he's with you.

Because leaving him behind means not knowing. Things can go wrong in a prison. Accidents, illness, over eager guards. Thinking about it makes you feel helpless and also a little pathetic. He had survived just fine without you. He isn't helpless. He's smart and he's good at his job. He's going to get out.

You repeat that to yourself the entire time on the transport while you're trying to avoid the gazes of the other passengers. The last thing you want is more uncomfortable small talk. You aren't sure you remember how to do it anymore. "How's the weather? Where are you headed? Oh, do you have family there? Have you heard about the news out of the Senate?" You'd rather be building parts.

Your next transport is longer and you have a cot that folds out from the wall. It's more comfortable than your prison bed, but that makes it rather uncomfortable. Your body doesn't fit in the dips the way it should, and the softness of it makes your right shoulder ache so you can only toss and turn instead. You've been out for nearly two days, but you haven't slept more than a quick doze in your seat. The adrenaline of freedom and a plan is forcing your body to keep moving. Now, maybe, you're overtired. Even the air feels wrong. Heavier somehow.

It reminds you of your very first night in prison—the women's prison. You had cried, feeling scared and sorry for yourself, because everything around you seemed so hostile. You had to sew, press, and wash uniforms all day—three different shift rotations—and your hands hurt and your back ached. The dormitories were rows of bunk beds in an open room, not the isolated cells of Narkina 5. The guards had locked all of you in at night without a care of what happened inside. There wasn't anything for the other prisoners to steal or any reason to be violent, but a few of them were just cruel and bored. That was how you learned to fight. It was all you had outside of work and you were eager for the distraction. Some way to protect yourself and the more vulnerable women in there. To feel like you were doing anything that meant something. You didn't sleep much those first few weeks, but the first night was the worst.

When you do finally sleep in your transport cot, you wake up in a panic because nothing is familiar. There should be masculine voices throughout the hallway and the sounds of people getting ready for your shift. Instead the only thing around you is the hum of the ship and soft whispers of casual conversation, and it's so dark. But then you remember, and you're relieved and heartbroken all over again.

You wonder what Kino is doing at that moment. Based on how long you've been traveling, it's evening there. So you imagine Kino sitting on his bed, legs stretched out in front of him and hands folded in his lap as he leans against the wall. Maybe he's talking to your replacement. Telling him all the things he needs to know to survive and help keep the shift moving. Or maybe he's sitting quietly and thinking about you, too.

"If we met in a different life, do you think we would have still ended up together?"

He turned to look at you sitting next to him. "What do you mean?"

"If we weren't in prison, but we were in, say, a cantina, and you saw me across the room. Would you be interested?"

"You're serious?"

"Yes! There's nothing else to talk about in this bloody place, so this is what I've got. So. Would you hit on me?"

"Absolutely not! I wouldn't think for one second that you'd look twice at me, so I'd sit there like a coward and steal glances at you all night."

"Kino! You're one of the most determined men I've ever met, you're not a coward."

"I am when it comes to beautiful women." You scoffed, but he continued, "Did I or did I not run away from you in the locker room?"

"I thought that was because you thought it would be inappropriate."

"It is inappropriate, but I ran because I was terrified."

"But I was practically begging!"

"And I still thought it was because I'm floor manager! Not because of me."

"I can't believe this."

"You asked!" He gave a quiet, gruff laugh. "What about you? Would you hit on me?"

"Yes! I would see your dour, grumpy face sitting at the bar and immediately want you, just like I did looking down at you from the lift—before your charming speech, by the way, so before I ever knew you were the floor manager. Then I would go stand next to you and make a fool of myself giving you heated looks and biting my lip until I had your attention." You looked him up and down with a heated gaze as a demonstration. Then you glanced up at him from beneath your lashes with your best flirty smile, and gently bit your lip as you let your eyes roam hungrily over his face. "Like that."

He exhaled, long and ragged. "That would have been effective."

"Then would you've flirted with me?"

"I probably would have been scared shitless, if I'm being honest."

You gave a fake, exasperated sigh and thunked your head back on the wall behind his cot. 

At the next transport station, a man walks by you and, as he passes, he tries to steal your pack. That's when you remember you are still capable of surviving on your own. Your heart aches, yes, but you're still alive and still in the best fucking shape of your life.

Your grip on your strap tightens as it's pulled away, keeping it held in your grasp. He seems caught off guard that his momentum doesn't carry him forward with his prize like he planned. So when you turn and your fist meets his stomach, he doesn't see that coming, either. He doubles over, collapses to the floor, and curls in on himself, his hand falling from your bag to clutch at his middle. You stand patiently over him as you settle your pack back onto your shoulder.

There's a guard there in moments. 

"What's going on here?" He shouts. He has all of the puffed up entitlement of someone that thinks they have authority, so you give him a placating smile.

"I'm so sorry, sir! It's really nothing. This gentleman and I bumped into each other. Must not have been watching where we were going! I can't believe it." You plaster a look of concern on your face and bend over who you now realize is a young man that can't be more than twenty years old. He's still groaning slightly and rubbing over his stomach where you punched him. "Are you alright?" The concern in your voice is genuine, you realize. "You hit my elbow pretty hard while you were hurrying. I'm so sorry about that! Let me help you up."

You hold a hand down to him, and he looks between it and the guard with suspicion before hesitantly taking it. With a tug, you help him to his feet, though you make a show of it being at least a little difficult. He's scrawny, all long limbs, and weighs barely anything. His hand feels small in yours. Fragile against your calluses. He's still just a dumb kid. You feel a twinge of guilt for how hard you hit him. However it is outweighed by the fact that he just tried to rob you.

"There you are. Good as new." You wipe off his shoulder and give him a forceful pat. He jumps at the contact. Then you level your demure smile back on the guard. "Thank you for the assistance, sir. I think we'll be alright."

"You're sure?" He doesn't look convinced. He probably wants an excuse to do more. To throw his self importance around and have one of you arrested for some reason or another so someone can tell him he's doing an excellent job keeping the peace. But you've gotten quite good at defusing these situations. Of handling men like him.

"Oh, absolutely. No trouble here."

"Alright, but in the future you should both be more careful. Watch where you're going or someone could get hurt."

You give him a serious nod. "Understood. Eyes forward at all times from now on, promise. Have a good rest of your day, sir."

He looks between you one last time and, with a grumble, returns in the direction he came from.

Once he's out of earshot, you turn on the would-be thief and hiss, "You have no idea what I just saved you from! How lucky you are. Trust me when I say the places they'll send you aren't worth a few credits. You'll be my age by the time you get out. So either be smarter or knock it off. Got it?" He just stares at you, wide eyed in confusion, so you press closer with a look of fury and keep your voice low. "Answer me! Got it?!"

"Yeah, okay!" He takes a step back, cowering slightly, with his hands raised in submission. "I got it."

"Good." You relax your posture and adjust your pack one last time. "Now fuck off."

He doesn't need to be told twice and scampers off so fast that he trips a bit on his own feet. The encounter lifts your spirits somewhat. Not because you enjoy punching people, especially not kids, but because it reminds you that you could protect yourself if you have to. It makes you feel confident you can get through this—physically, at least. Plus, hopefully you just scared some kid straight enough that he stays out of prison. If not, he'll have plenty of time to think about what you meant and wish he'd listened.

You're suddenly starving. You buy your first real, solid meal of a kebab, a savory hand pie, and purple chips from a kiosk, instead of just downing a quick protein bar out of necessity. You eat exactly like a person that hasn't properly tasted food in years. Which is to say you shovel it into your mouth with so much enthusiasm that you don't savor it and the pie burns your tongue, but it's the best thing you've ever eaten. Nearby, a couple watches you with concern and trepidation, but you just smile back at them, wide and uncaring, between bites. Nothing is taking the joy of this moment from you.

"And you're sure it's what you want?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

"I can't cook very well."

"I don't care."

"I leave my towel on the floor sometimes."

"I don't care."

"I get distracted halfway through doing something and leave things sitting out in a mess until I remember what I was doing and go back to it. Sometimes for days."

"Oh." His eyebrows furrowed in thought.

There it was. The other shoe dropping. You braced yourself, ready for the distancing and the apologies to start, but then he smiled and pulled you against him. He kissed your hairline and murmured against your scalp, "I don't care. So stop trying to talk me out of it."

"I'm not trying to talk you out of it, I'm giving you full disclosure of what living with me is like." You thought of sitting with him on a couch, curled under a blanket as you both watched a holodrama together. You wanted it so desperately that you were almost afraid to hope for it.

"It sounds perfect to me."

You get a place within walking distance of the station. It's a long walk, but it's the best you can do. The flat is nice—it even has a little balcony overlooking the street—though you aren't sure if it's actually nice or if you are just grateful to have space and furniture again. Still, it's comfortable and roomy, and it has potential. You walk through it and see the foundation of something you can build on. You and Kino.

Paying the first month of rent uses up most of the remaining credits you had saved up. It's okay, though, because they had served their purpose. Gotten you this far. The rest is up to you, and the thought isn't as scary as you expected. You're truly on your own, but you've been through worse. You are strong. You can do this.

You buy some paint and a large piece of scrap and make yourself a calendar to lean against the wall. You carefully draw out the months and days in neat grids. Inside each square is a number. It starts on the day you got out, because you wanted the relief of crossing those off, and ends the day he should be here with you. All two hundred and thirty eight of them—now two hundred and thirty three. Every night, before you go to bed, you mark off the day and look at how many are left. Some days it surprises you how much time has passed, and other days you lament how many little squares there still are. They pass regardless.

You get a job at a small factory that builds transport and mining vehicles. They had laughed at you initially, until you told them you had over two years of experience building heavy machinery parts on an assembly line. Technically. Before prison, you would have grimaced at the thought of a factory job and missed the shop you used to work at, even though you had been accused of stealing. It hadn't been you, it had been your co-worker—the owner's son—so your innocence hadn't mattered when you were arrested. But for now you need something to keep yourself busy and the pay is decent. Plus, the work is just strenuous enough to stop you from feeling something that seems too much like homesickness for your liking. You know you shouldn't miss that place. It isn't healthy.

However, the work's still not nearly as labor intensive as what you're used to. Maybe because they put you on lighter machinery. Most of your job is operating lifts and welding vehicle frames, and you find, after training, you're actually quite good at the steady precision needed for the work. You even come in and practice on scrap to get better. Or maybe it just seems easier because the intense pressure to produce, to keep moving under threat of pain and death, is finally absent. You even get weekends off and leave days.

Some of your co-workers invite you out for drinks at the cantina down the street after work. At first out of interest, and then out of concern because you don't have anything resembling a social life. A few of them even hit on you in the beginning, but you tell them bluntly that you aren't interested. That you have someone. One of them asks where he is, and the broken look on your face when you say, "he'll be here soon," puts an end to any attempts to flirt with you. They don't ask again, and you don't offer anything more.

Thankfully that allows room for casual friendship, the kind you once had with the men at your pod on Narkina 5, and it's nice. It feels less lonely, though that ache in your chest never goes away completely. It follows you around like a constant companion. Wraps its way up your throat, even as you laugh at a joke. You do go out for drinks occasionally, but mostly you go home, read a romance holonovel, and wait.

You masturbate a lot, as well. Every night, you lie in the large bed and think about finally having him there with you. About all the ways you'll kiss and touch under the covers. How he might bend you over the bedside and fuck you from behind, or sprawl across the middle while you climb on top of him and ride him, his hands on your hips and your toes bracing against the sheets. You think about all the ways he touched you before, a slideshow of memories while your fingers work between your folds and against your clit as you desperately seek a release that makes you feel a little closer to him. You climax moaning his name.

Your last night together had been tender. Everyone cleared out of the showers early and left you alone for longer than you usually had together. They all knew what was happening and what it meant, and it was the one thing they had to give you as a going away gift. He braced you against the tiled wall of the shower stall like he had the first time you'd had sex, but this time he had been so gentle. You both relished every touch, every kiss, every slow, deep thrust of him inside of you. You made love like you would never see each other again, though you would never say the words out loud. Never give voice to those worries, even if they hung unsaid between you. Afterwards, you had sobbed as he held you and whispered that everything would be alright. You clung to him like he was a rock in a storm at sea up until the very last minute you had. You'd been so afraid that if you let go of him, you would drown.

But there you were, going through every day. Surviving and waiting.

"If you find someone else, I'd understand."

"Kino!"

"Someone young and attractive."

"You're crazy."

"I'm realistic."

"You're not." You climbed into his lap on his cot, uncaring who was watching, and straddled his hips. He hissed a protest, but you ignored him and held his face in your hands. "There's no one in the whole galaxy that can hold a flame to you, do you hear me? When I'm out of here, the only thing I'll be doing is working and waiting for you. Because I love you." You leaned closer to whisper in his ear. "And you're so goddamn sexy, why would I want anyone else? If the floor was asleep right now, I'd be on my knees showing you just how sexy I think you are." Then you placed a kiss on the scruff of his cheek. "And you're brave," a kiss on his temple, "and brilliant," a kiss on his nose, "and noble—"

He interrupted you with a kiss on your lips and you smiled into it as he wrapped his arms possessively around you.

Months pass. Five, then six, and finally there's less than a month before he's there. Your mood picks up and hope fills your lungs. You catch yourself smiling and humming at work. Your co-workers, the ones you occasionally think of as your friends, notice. When they ask what's up, you smile, maybe the first true smile you've ever given them, and say, "Kino is going to be here in twenty days." And that is enough of an explanation.

You haven't talked about him often. Not because you're ashamed, but because it hurts. And because, selfishly, you want to keep all of him to yourself for the time being. But they know the general idea of your circumstances. That'd you'd been in a men's labor prison due to a clerical error. The only woman—or at least you had been when you left. That he's still there. That you'd risked your lives to be together. That he's a good man that tries to keep everyone going and out of trouble so they can get out. That now you're waiting for him.

A few of them seemed skeptical about your story, whether it's disapproval that you met someone in prison or disbelief that he'll actually turn up when the time comes. You didn't care then and you don't care now. All that has ever truly mattered is that date, looming in the distance and drawing ever closer. The others were—are more supportive because when you do talk about him, you know your face lights up. The clouds of your gloom part for the briefest of moments with his name on your tongue. So twenty days is revelation.

You start to fret that you haven't made your flat welcoming enough. That he's going to come home to something just as sterile as what he left behind. You buy better sheets, a comfortable blanket to drape on the couch, a vase for the table, good towels, any luxury you can think of that neither of you had on Narkina 5. You have the credits for it. Other than rent, food, a few necessities, and the occasional drink out, you've saved everything. You want to enjoy it with him. To build your home and your life with him. Plus you have to admit, while standing in a street market, looking at baskets and rugs and decorative hangings, you aren't even sure what he likes. The thought makes you laugh.

You count the squares.

19.

You get promoted at work to a senior welder position. It's fast, but everyone has to admit your work is high quality. A natural talent. You relent to a last drink out to celebrate. You still go home after one.

13.

You buy a nice dress to wear to the station. Something that flatters your frame and waist, in a color that complements your own coloring, and it dips low between your breasts. You hang it on the wall of your bedroom and admire it every time you wake in the morning.

8.

You get a haircut. A proper one, not just a trim so you can keep it tied back and out of your face while you work. It's layered and feminine, and it's the first time you're reminded of the person you had been many years ago. Though looking in the mirror now, you're still so different. The rounder, softer features of your youth are completely gone and have been replaced with high cheekbones and a graceful jawline. Getting older suits you. Reflects the new confidence you have in yourself.

5.

You buy a bouquet of flowers to set in the vase on the table.

4.

You clean. The place is already tidy because you don't have or do much, but you're so full of nervous energy that you're starting to fret over the small things. It has to be perfect.

2.

You're convinced you're going to pace a permanent line on the floor. You beg your supervisor to let you work overtime, but they don't need the extra hands. He tells you to go home with a knowing look.

1.

Tomorrow. He gets there tomorrow. You want to crawl into bed and sleep as long as you can to make the time move faster, but you're too excited to sleep at all.

0.

You have an entire week off. You'd traded shifts, worked a few weekends and longer hours when you were needed to build good will, and never took a day off your entire time there, so your supervisor gave you the whole week. A whole week with just Kino.

You get to the station early because you have no idea what time he'll get there. Or which transports he's taken during the trip, so the screen that displays times and ships is no help. You're in your dress with your hair done and just a hint of makeup to accentuate your features.

You alternate between sitting on the bench and pacing around. Whenever a new crowd of people appears, you stop to anxiously look for his face, only to be disappointed when he isn't there. You smooth the fabric of your dress for the hundredth time. It's plenty smooth, but you don't know what else to do with your hands.

He arrives early in the afternoon. You've been waiting for over seven hours, but in your anxiety and impatience, it's felt like an eternity. Your feet hurt a little because you aren't used to the nicer flats, just your work boots, and you're so glad you didn't pick out heels.

You see him first.

He's in a blue jacket and a black shirt and pants, and you realize you've never seen him in anything other than the white and orange uniform. You also realize the uniform hadn't been as flattering as you thought. Because right now, surrounded by so many colors, flashing ads, and the warm station lights, with his beard a little longer and his hair relaxed from travel, he looks stunning. The most handsome man you've ever seen in your life. If you weren't already madly in love with him, you would have fallen for him completely the second you laid eyes on him.

His expression, however, is grave as he scans the crowd, and you note the tension in his shoulders. The way his hand is nearly strangling the handle of his bag. It occurs to you that he's worried you won't be here. Because just as you didn't know what was happening to him in there, he had no idea what was happening to you out here. He didn't get to see how you had survived and waited and built everything for this moment. The thought causes a pang of heartache for him that you feel like a punch in the gut, and your eyes sting with tears.

Right then, as if he can feel your gaze on him, he turns to you. You see the recognition on his face the second he lays eyes on you, and your breath catches at the way his uneasy expression gives way to relief. You both stare at each other, absorbing the moment. Processing that this is real. He's right there and you're right here. It's finally happening. The noises of the station fade away and the only thing you can hear is the blood pounding in your ears.

Then the moment passes and your feet are moving. You're running towards each other as if you're both terrified the other one will somehow disappear if you don't. That, in your desperation, you somehow imagined this. Someone is shouting at you to slow down as you run by, but it doesn't matter because you fall into his arms and then that's the only thing that matters. He drops his bag at your feet and hugs you to him so tightly that he nearly lifts you off the ground, which is good because the relief of his touch makes your legs unsteady. You're surrounded by his arms, his warmth, his scent, and you think it can't get better than that, but then he's kissing you with two hundred and thirty eight days of pent up grief and passion.

Every part of you feels like it's being ripped from a deep sleep. You feel it in your throat, in your chest, your fingers, down to your belly, where it finally pools to your core and you ache. Of course you had touched yourself at night while you thought of him between your legs, but having him in front of you once more is a jolt to your system. You feel alive.

You finally pull away because you want to see his face and hear his voice, to learn the new feel of his softer beard beneath your fingers, because you've missed him—all of him—so much. There are tears in his eyes and he gives you a watery, joyful laugh as your hands run over his cheeks and chin.

"My god, you're beautiful." He finally says in his low, gruff voice, and fuck have you really missed that.

"Kino," you sob because you have a million things you want to say to him, but you're so overwhelmed that you have no idea where to start.

"Shh, it's okay. I'm here." He caresses your face back, and swipes his thumb over a tear on your cheekbone that has escaped your eyelashes.

"You are. I almost can't believe it! I've missed you so god-damned much. I–" You take a trembling, calming breath and look into his eyes. They're so blue and warm. His hand on your jaw and the feel of his beard beneath your fingertips is comforting. It grounds you. "Welcome home."

He kisses you again, right in the middle of everything, as people continue to part and file around you in irritation. It quickly turns desperate and heated. Your hands tangle in his hair while he moves to grope along your ribs, and you convey every ounce of your yearning against his lips and tongue. But you know this has nowhere to go. Not here. So you force yourself to part from him again, placing a few final kisses on the corner of his lips as an apology. Because when you start this, you want to finish it.

"We have several blocks to walk home. We should do that now before we make everyone uncomfortable. Besides," you place a kiss on his temple, "we have a rather nice bed waiting for us when we get there."

He groans your name into your hair, but doesn't need any further convincing. He picks up his bag, and you take his free hand and lace your fingers together. It's the first time you've ever been able to casually hold his hand, and even this, something so simple, is a balm on your tender heart.

As you walk through the city, past store fronts and food stands, the two of you finally get the opportunity to talk. You tell him about your job and how you surprised yourself by enjoying it more than you expected. How you'd just gotten a promotion for your skill. At that he stops to sweep you into his arms again and to tell you how proud of you he is. You beam at his praise. Even now, it still means more to you than any incentive or reward you could ever get. You tell him about the co-workers that have been nice and are eager to meet him, though you leave out how, in your misery, you've kept them at arm's length. When you're both comfortable and settled in together, maybe then you'll pick at that wound. Or maybe, with him here, that wound will heal. You'll let your walls down and you won't have to.

You ask about what happened after you left, and he says there isn't much to tell. Other than someone from table one also getting out, things had continued on much the same—just without you. Your replacement hadn't been as fast at the delicate work like you were, though, so your table hadn't gotten above third place after you left. You try not to feel smug about it because you do feel sorry for your old pod. And even for the new man because you know it isn't easy. You know how scary all of it is. For a moment, you also feel a pang of guilt that you hadn't thought as much about them as you had about Kino, or wondered how they were fairing. He can sense the slight shift in your mood and he gives your hand a reassuring squeeze. He doesn't need to say anything because you can hear his words in your head: "None of this is your fault." You give him a small, grateful smile.

You stop him when you finally see your building down the street, and bring his hand to your lips and place a kiss on his knuckles. "See that building right there?" You point to it and he follows the line of your finger to the corner. "That's it. That's where we live."

He looks at it with awe, and it softens him. He always looks younger when he isn't frowning or so serious. As you watch his face, you realize how overwhelming all of this must be. It had been for you, too, but you had something to do—to focus on—to help you process the emotions. You were also the one paving the way, so it happened for you in steps. He left Narkina 5 and then walked into a whole new life.

"It's perfect." His voice is shaky, far from the commanding shout of Kino Loy, shift manager, and you tilt your head to rest on his shoulder so you can admire it with him.

"I think I appreciate it a lot more right now." You stand there with him, holding his hand and offering him comfort, until he's finally ready to move on.

You both make it up the stairs to your second story flat while he absorbs every detail of the short trek. Inside, you expect him to look around some more, to take everything in and explore the rooms after you've removed your shoes. Instead he drops his bag by the door, closes the space between you, and pulls you in for a deep kiss. In the privacy of your home, you finally allow yourself the low, shameless moan that has been building up inside of you. It feels like its own release, an expression of the longing you've felt all the way to your core.

His arms roam your back, slide down to cup your ass and squeeze over the fabric of your dress. He uses the grip to pull you flush against him and you can feel the firm thickness of his arousal straining against his pants. Your hands slip inside his jacket to run over his chest, along his sides, and around to the planes of his back. The shape of him feels familiar, and yet it feels different. The fabric of his shirt is softer, clings to him in a way the uniform hadn't. So you appreciate his form in a new way with your exploring touch, and it feels like rediscovery. Relearning how you both fit together now, and the thought is exciting.

"You look incredible," you murmur against his lips. "You didn't warn me you look so fucking hot in blue."

He chuckles, deep and rich, and the vibration tingles your chest. "I didn't know. No one's told me before."

"Galaxy full of idiots," you grumble.

"What about you? God, I love this dress. Look at you," he growls.

"I'm glad. I bought it just for you." You give him a heated look and whisper, "So that you can enjoy taking it off of me."

He sucks in a sharp breath and his eyes flutter closed. He takes a second to center himself. When he opens them again, he levels you with the commanding, determined stare that you're so familiar with. The one you can never resist.

"Show me the bedroom."

You take his hand and press it to your chest. The heel rests against your cleavage and his fingers brush your collarbone, covering your pounding heart. You walk backwards, slowly, not taking your eyes off of him, and pull him down the hall with you. It's a straight shot until you reach the door, but you take your time and the effect it has on him is palpable. He stalks after you, frame tense, predatory and hungry. It sends a thrill down your spine.

The room beyond the doorway is tidy, the sheets and blankets are clean and fresh, and the bed is made. You had only added a rug and airy curtains, so it's a little sparse, but it's light and cozy in off whites and peaches. More importantly, it's yours. Before you can say anything, he scoops you up into his arms. You almost forgot how strong he is. How effortlessly he can carry you around. It occurs to you that you can finally explore the implications of that now. You have that freedom.

He walks you past the threshold, across the room, and sets you down on the edge of the bed. Rather than push you back against the covers, he straightens to stand in front of you. You look up at him expectantly and he brushes the back of his knuckle down your cheek.

"I want to appreciate this. Truly, I do." He begins to casually take off his jacket. He pulls his arms out of the sleeves, unhurried, as if he's getting undressed after a long day. Then he meticulously folds it over his arm and tosses it to the floor without looking. "But that will come later. Right now, I just want to fuck you."

There's a responding throb of wetness between your legs. You nod eagerly and choke out, "Yes."

"I want to show you how much I've missed you." He starts on the buttons of his shirt. You wonder if you should be helping, but your hands are trembling. You're not sure you can work a button right now without ripping the threads. You aren't sure how he can work a button right now. He only pauses to pull the fabric from his waistband. Otherwise his pace is infuriatingly steady. "I want to hear how much you've missed me when I do."

"God, Kino." You reach out to greedily touch his exposed skin. You didn't think his outfit could get any hotter, but now his shirt hangs open and untucked from his pants, leaving his chest and stomach bare, and you couldn't have been more wrong. You want him to walk around like that from now on. You imagine him standing in front of the kitchen sink, barefoot and shirt open as he washes a plate. Him on the balcony at dusk, leaning against the railing, looking out across the city with those piercing blue eyes as his hair is ruffled by a breeze and he's bathed in rich, fading sunlight. Him entering the bedroom, rolling up the cuffs of his sleeves on his undone shirt, pleased to see you lounging on the bed and reading, and his trajectory changes towards you as—

His finger under your chin pulls you from your thoughts and you note the hint of amusement on his face. As if he can read your mind. You flush and, with only a small amount of regret, help him push the shirt off of his shoulders, letting your hands skim across his arms as you slide it down. You can feel him shifting beneath your palms as he moves to pull it off the rest of the way. It joins his jacket on the floor.

As his hands move to work on the button of his pants, you climb to your knees before him. You're eye level now and it helps you feel more in control instead of at his mercy. He stops to watch as you reach behind yourself and unzip the back of your dress. The fabric relaxes on your body, no longer pulled taught around you. You don't take it off, though. You still want him to do that.

He doesn't pull it over your head. He pushes it off your shoulders and drags his rough hands along your arms as he peels it down, just as you had done to him. He leaves a trail of goosebumps in his wake. Soon it's pooled around your waist and your top half is exposed. He hungrily takes in the sight of your naked breasts and stomach, but doesn't touch you. Your body has softened while you've been apart. There is still strength there, but your curves are rounder without the constant demand to work or fry. You think it's the perfect balance of toned muscle and feminine figure. He clearly agrees by the way he almost loses his composure. Almost.

"Lie down." His voice is still low and steady. At his command, you sit back down and lay onto the covers. He braces a knee next to your calf and grips the sides of your dress. You raise your hips to give him better access, which earns you a grunt of approval. As he slides it down your legs, he's very focused and gentle, taking care not to rip or damage it, then he lays it on the floor with more thought than he had given his own clothing. It's only when he turns back to you that he realizes you aren't wearing any underwear. And you've let your legs fall open. He groans at the sight of you.

"I just got here and you're already trying to kill me." His gravelly voice rolls over you and you let out a faint whimper.

"No, I'm trying to encourage you."

"Like I need any encouragement." But his eyes continue to linger on your damp sex.

"You're still wearing pants." You spread your legs wider, exposing more of yourself to him. Reluctantly, he looks down at himself, as if he's only just remembered, and he quickly pushes his pants and underwear off in one motion. You can't help but notice that he still carefully steps out of them, an echo of his previous control, which is rapidly dissipating. Finally, he's completely nude before you.

Your memories hadn't done him justice. Hadn't captured the way his muscles flex as he moves or how his chest rises and falls as his breathing quickens at the sight of you. The mesmerizing pattern of grey in his beard and hair. The little curls at the nape of his neck that refuse to lay flat. Hadn't captured the play of light on his skin and the shadow at the hollow of his collarbone, or the lines of his hips when he's poised and ready to climb on top of you. Hadn't captured the view of his thick erection framed by your own legs. Or the way the wrinkles on his forehead deepen with stern concentration when something has captured all of his attention, like the way you're drawing your fingertips along your inner thigh.

"Are you going to stand there all day?" You sound far needier than you meant to. It's almost petulant, but you've waited so long for this and you do need him.

"I'm making up for lost time." His heavy gaze rakes across your body as he drinks in the view.

"Would you like a show? Or would you like to make up for lost time in a different way." You trail a finger from your thigh towards the mound between your legs.

His hand twitches and his jaw clenches in thought as he weighs his options. Or he's waiting for you to beg, and you're getting close to that point, but you want him to just take you.

"Because I can give you a show." You inch further down, barely brushing along your folds, and you watch his length twitch with interest. "I can show you what it was like for me here every night. How I touched myself as I thought of you." You press your finger so it's just breaching your entrance and you react with a tiny gasp.

At that, he stares down at you, lips parted in agony, torn between wanting to watch you and wanting to be the one pressing inside of you.

"How badly I wanted you." You drag your moistened fingertip up across your bundle of nerves. Your hips buck, seeking out more contact, and your head lolls back as you moan out, "Kino!"

The mattress dipping as he presses a knee onto the bed is the only warning you get before he's on top of you. You pull your hand free just before he dives forward and buries his face into your neck. His erection is pinned between you, laying flat against your stomach. You immediately wiggle your hips, trying to bring your arousals closer together, but he's strong and unyielding above you.

"I almost forgot how little it takes for you to drive me absolutely fucking mad," he says against your throat. He nuzzles where your pulse flutters beneath your skin, and you continue your vain writhing beneath him. "I hope you're prepared to not leave this bedroom today."

You want to give him a smug grin, but are incapable of doing more than reacting to the attention he's lavishing on the spots he knows get the biggest rise out of you. Because driving him mad had been your intention and you're getting exactly what you want, but you also forgot to mention: "I have the whole week off of work."

He stops for a second, lips frozen below your ear, and then he pulls away to raise himself onto his hands so he can look down at you. "A week?" His expression is intense and inscrutable, which accentuates the wrinkle between his eyebrows.

You nod, still breathless. "And the weekend."

Without another word, he moves and positions himself between your legs—exactly where you've wanted him this entire time. And for a brief moment, right before he plunges into you, you're nervous. It's ridiculous, you think, but it's been a while. And this feels so much more real compared to sex in a closet, which had also felt real until you could compare it to this moment. This is your first time together in your home, on your bed. It feels significant. Transformative in a way you weren't expecting. As though every decision you've ever made led you to this moment.

You're so full of desire and nerves and anticipation about finally getting what you want, and it blurs together in a heady mix. Then finally, after what feels like a lifetime of waiting, he buries himself into you with one hard thrust. At his deep groan, the noise and static in your head are silenced, and all that's left is him.

"Kino," your voice is pleading, desperate, but you don't have to say anything more. Don't have to beg because he's rocking into you at a frenzied pace before his name even dies on your lips.

His lips find your neck, your collarbone, your cheek. He kisses and bites, causing you to gasp and cry out, and his beard rasps your skin. You hope all of it leaves a mark—that you're a canvas of bruises and burns later. His.

You grip his shoulders, hook a leg in the crook of his knee, and curl the other around his waist so that you can hold on to him. It's all you can do to keep yourself steady while he fucks you. Every snap of his hips sends a spark of pleasure through you that continues to build, wave upon wave.

You want it to last, to stay in that heightened state of arousal, wrapped around him, full of him, skin burning—but then you hear the low rumble of his voice.

"God, I've missed you." You can feel his hot breath on your cheek and his voice in your chest. "Missed fucking you."

You turn to capture his mouth in a hungry kiss. He grunts against your tongue and it's all you can stand. You surrender to your climax, unable to moan or breathe until that first peak finishes rolling through you—and then you are gasping and sobbing his name. His hips pick up speed, relentless through your pulsing and clenching around him. He has a solemn look of concentration and his jaw clenches from the effort. Finally, his whole body stills, tenses against you. Then he follows you over that edge, his face slack with bliss, and spills himself inside of you with a moan that sounds like your name.

Every part of you is satisfied and at peace. The sex was fast, and hard, and desperate, but it was the best sex of your entire life. It was two hundred and thirty eight days ending. It was both of you free of that place. Free of the masks and roles, and never having to keep your distance again. It was the two of you as you are and as you can be from now on.

You pull him down and into your arms. He goes willingly into the embrace, bonelessly tucks himself against you and under your chin. You run your fingers through his thick, grey locks and feel him give a content hum. Your poor heart, which is still trying to calm down, lurches in your chest.

"Kino Loy," you smile, "I think I might be completely and hopelessly in love with you."

He tilts his head to give you a tired hint of a smile back. "And I think I might be desperately in love with you, too."

You continue to lay there, nude and intertwined, because you can, and say the words back and forth to each other, each phrase more certain than the last, until you fall asleep.

"I suppose I should get rid of this now."

"Get rid of it? Why?"

"I mean, I don't need it anymore. You're here."

"Why don't we hang it on the wall?"

You look at him in confusion. "Why?"

"Because it shows what we both went through to be together. Every X is a day we survived so we could get back to each other."

You love it. Suddenly the visual reminder of the time between you was a reminder of a time passed. It didn't seem quite so depressing anymore.

"Plus, it's cute. You made a calendar, love. For me. And look at the little heart over today!"

You blush, a little embarrassed. "I told you all I was going to do is work and wait for you."

"You'll never have to wait for me again. I'm here and I'm yours for as long as you'll have me."

"Hmm," you pretend to think, "I don't think either of us will live that long. Forever is a long time."

He laughs deep in his chest, his eyes and nose wrinkling in amusement, and, finally, you're home.

[wellthatschaotic]

am i plural?

i know a post like this would probably have been helpful to us when we were first discovering the system, and sometimes it can be hard or scary to actually look into it when there’s so much stigma surrounding plurality in general. hopefully this post can help someone with their brain fuckery, or maybe help singlets see some experiences of plurality.

(note: experiences are always subjective, these do not mean you are plural and if you are plural that doesn’t mean you experience these. remember that this was written by an autistic disordered system with madd & adhd, which all affect our experiences) 

step 1: make sure you’re ready to read the post

brains can be fucky and brain fuckery is hard to deal with. you don’t have to deal with it right now. if you suspect plurality but aren’t ready to look into it, it may be healthier to scroll past. i’m writing this for those both curious and ready to look further into their brain fuckery. take care of yourselves. 

also, remember to take this entire post with a grain of salt. as the disclaimer above states, everyone’s experiences are different. this is simply meant to be a starting point, not diagnostic criteria. i’ll link more starting points at the bottom of the post. 

please read this post with a clear head and honest judgment. 

ready? okay cool

step 2: look around

look around and think around. is there any clothes you see that you own that you probably wouldn’t want to wear? how about music or a playlist that isn’t quite your vibe? anything that you, yourself, have chosen or accepted that you wouldn’t choose currently? (of course this applies to recent things, like earrings you bought at the mall last week or a song you downloaded a few days ago- not a sweater from 5 years ago that you don’t like anymore)

take notice of as many of your surroundings as possible, as well as any creations you’ve made, texts you’ve sent, etc. maybe you wrote something that you now would not have worded at all that way- too formal, not formal enough, strange wording. maybe you didn’t remember writing it at all, but logically that text was from you, so you must’ve written it, right? try to keep track of at least some of these inconsistencies.

step 3: meditate

okay i know this one sounds cheesy, and sometimes it feels cheesy too- but it actually was really helpful for us starting out (and sometimes still helps now). sit down in a quiet room, try to secure a few minutes for yourself and only yourself to think. imagine a place in your mind, and envision yourself walking in there, and sitting down. we have madd, so chose a place in our paracosm, but you can do this without madd too. if you have trouble imagining that way, go to your mind in a different way- perhaps by describing it to yourself, by counting backwards, clearing your head, etc. we simply find the first method easiest for us. 

at this point, take a deep breath, and let your mind wander. consider all of your thoughts. what are you thinking about right now? think about yourself. what is the very first thing that comes to mind when you think of yourself? not what’s supposed to come to mind, not what’s logical, not what other people see- what is the absolute, very first thing you think of? does that make sense? does that change? is it hard to settle on, no matter what? 

this next part is possibly specific to madd, but it is what happened to us. our former host sat down in the cafe, as they noticed it was a frequently visited place in our paracosm, and thought of the most common recurring paras. thought of their backstories, what they thought of them, etc. eventually, emily seemed to realize why he was a recurring para, and was able to walk into the cafe and join them, followed soon by alisha (they were expecting only alisha, so emily walking in first was a surprise lmao). they talked for a little bit, but we had to “wake up”, so emily and alisha left the cafe. 

if you have any recurring paras, characters, ocs, who seem increasingly real to you- hard to describe as just a character, where the word “person” feels more accurate- maybe think about them. do what we did, well over a year ago- try to talk to them. try to ask why and how and who. 

don’t be discouraged if it doesn’t work- one thing i’ll always repeat is that brains are weird, and seldom cooperate. 

step 4: take a break

it takes a lot of energy to look into brain things, and sometimes it can spiral into a rabbit-hole type situation. take a deep breath, do something else. maybe give yourself some time to sit on anything you’ve found during the post without necessarily digging any deeper into it. don’t overheat yourself trying to figure everything out at once. 

make sure you’re ready to continue before you do.

step 5: reflect

hopefully this post has helped you find some things you were looking for. now is the time to evaluate. maybe try meditating again, journaling, making lists of experiences, talking to someone. whatever helps you organize those brain cells. look at it with a clear mind, and try again to look at yourself too. you might find it’s yourselves. if not, that’s okay too. as i said- brains are weird, sometimes symptoms overlap. we’re not an expert, just someone trying to help and provide a resource that we probably would’ve wanted a year and a half ago. 

step 6: don’t panic

it can be overwhelming to realize big things about yourself(s), even when you were expecting them or trying to find them. give yourself(s) time to get ahold of everything again, and adjust to acknowledging existence. also, it’s not uncommon to have a sudden burst of growth after your initial discovery- you’re not faking, it’s honestly most likely that there were headmates who are just now realizing that They Can Exist Now. if talking helps, do that. if not talking helps, then do that. it can be big and scary but sometimes figuring out what’s happening in your brain can be a good step towards making it nicer. it is for us.

again: if you want someone to talk to, our dms and asks are open (and anon is enabled). i hope this helps at least one person(s)! 

other links:

sophieinwonderland's "is my imaginary friend sentient" post

am i plural document

healthymultiplicity.com (has a lot of other links in it)

[franksongofthemoment]

Welcome

This is a posterity blog, to catalog when Frank mentions music or bands he likes.

I will be going as far back as I can/have found and attempt a chronological order.

This may not get updated very often after initially populated.

Links to items to help greatly appreciated.

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

First up is a playlist from 2006:

Frank Iero: “The Songs That Changed My Life”  from Kerrang Issue #1128

Photo Credit: Paul Harries

Magazine Release Date: November 27th, 2006 Issue Label: October 7th, 2006

(Pic source)

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

A post to the website blog in 2008:

to be honest...

Saturday November 29, 2008 |

Posted by: Frank

you really have to get the new bronx record, its pretty fantastic. track 3 has been stuck in my head for 2 weeks. just sayin...xofrank

and guest post from 2009:

Frank comments on Artist direct’s playlist of THE 10 BEST (UNLIKELY) LOVE SONGS posted February 10th, 2009. (X)

Next some posts to the website blog in 2009:

Arg, Pure ROck Scurvy

Wednesday April 1, 2009 |

Posted by: Frank

hello all, just wanted to let you know our good buddies from the nj, BRine & Bastards, just released a new e.p... Do you like pirates? what about punk rock? do you think chlamydia is funny? ever wish your favorite rum had an upbeat theme song? then this band is for you! 6 brand new songs for you to tap your peg leg to. go to itunes and type that shit in - Brine & Bastards - Pure Rock Scurvy EP their full length, set sail for sodomy, is also available there....enjoi! xofrank

New Gallows rekurd = Facial Assualt

Friday May 15, 2009 |

Posted by: Frank

ok so i got the new Gallows record, Grey Britain, a couple weeks ago cause i know some people that are famous and influential but i didnt want to rub it in so i waited until now to talk about it...this way its out, you can get it at your local record store and listen to it at home and not feel inferior to my famous friends even though most of you are...its just better this way. ok with all that said fuck this record is good. they really branched out and took some chances on this record and it paid off in spades (i dont really know what that euphemism actually means - but im using it to say it went really well.)

MY GOOD FRIENDS ARE IN GREAT BANDS AND MADE GREAT RECORDS.

Tuesday July 14, 2009 |

Posted by: Frank

hey all, i just wanted to stop by and drop a line about some amazing records that came out last month.... my good friends in New Tomorrow from san luis obispo Ca released their new full length "we're counting on the youth"... and i must say its my favorite hardcore record of the year. their songs are inspired and inspiring, positive hardcore for the young and old alike. they are DIY and i love them. if there were more bands like this the world might actually become a better place. ....and the hardest working band in showbiz hailing from Kansas City Missouri, the architects have released "the hard way", my favorite rock n roll record of the year. i throw down the gauntlet and say the architects are the best live band i have ever seen, the first time we met they rocked the saint in asbury park like it was a sold out MSG show. they are on the warped tour all summer and deserve more attention than you can give them. the hard way is a fucking gem and will be the record you listen to while being chased by police on your way to the mexican border. bands like new tomorrow and the architects dont come around every day and are the reason i started skeleton crew. i feel very lucky to have worked with these bands, they are hard working and talented and deserve way more than i can provide. i hope you enjoy their records as much as i do. New Tomorrow - "We're counting on the Youth" and the Architects - "The Hard Way" are available at stores and on itunes, or from the skeleton crew webstore (www.skeletoncrewonline.com) both bands will be on the road this summer, enjoi. xo

[redvanillabee]

do you have anymore insight on what war in the pacific theatre was like? I still find it very interesting that Jack was the only one (other than Rufus Hunt) who seems to have fought there

Hi anon! It is interesting, isn't it? I did a quick search, and apparently "out of the more than 16 million Americans who served, 2 million served in Europe, though the war against the Nazis has an outsized place in the American imagination." [LINK] So it does seem in line with American pop culture, though perhaps historically inaccurate, that of the casual handful of veterans we got in AC, only two managed to have experienced the Pacific Theatre.

Personally I don't have much to offer, but I can point you to more information!

First off, I would be amiss not to mention @historicalagentcarter! They did a post on Jack and the War in the Pacific [LINK]; specifically, they talked about the Battle of Okinawa. If you want a contextualised post, this is a very good starting point.

The history podcast History Hit has got an episode dedicated to the Battle of Okinawa [LINK]. Both History Hit and its sister podcast, Warfare, has got multiple episodes dedicated to the Pacific War and are very easy to listen to.

@eveningstar477 also found, sometime ago, a story in a book about surrendering troops in Okinawa being shot [LINK].

For a week-by-week map-based recap of key battles, you might want to check out the Pacific War playlist by the YouTube channel Kings and Generals. This is all strategic and tactical though—which general and which admiral told which ship to do what at what hour on what day. This will be very useful information if you are trying to write Jack or Hunt's backstory in a given point in a real battle.

As a TLDR, I can sum up what I observe to be key features of the Pacific War. I must warn you, anon, to take these with many grains of salt.

Landings. If you're familiar with the European theatre, you will remember that there are two major landings by western allies: the Sicily landing, and the D-Day Normandy landing. Those two landings were brutal enough, but with the Island Hopping strategy in the Pacific, that means there were more of such brutal landings.

Land-based vs sea-based. Just by right of the location, the European theatre took place mostly on land; making progress means moving forward on land. In the Pacific, that would mean travelling over open seas, and to make tangible progress, we are back to point one: landings.

Climate. It seems the climate in the western front as we know it was generally milder, whereas in the Pacific you would be dealing with hotter temperature and tropical diseases, which were things the troops most assurely were not accustomed to.

Absence of allies. Or at least, that's the impression I got. The Western front seemed to be a relatively more even mix of British, American, and other allied troops. The Pacific theatre, by impression at least, seemed to be a war fought mostly by the Americans. There were allies in the area—China, for instance, but they were fighting mostly within the borders of their country and did not really venture out into the Pacific. But other notable western allies were not exactly present. Most British troops were defeated and driven out of/imprisoned in the colonies in East and Southeast Asia early in the war, for instance.

Hope this is something to start with, anon!

[misskayvee]

A Tag Game

@archetypewriter tagged me in this forever ago because they are lovely and awesome, and I’m finally getting around to filling this out (feeling chatty tonight)

last song - LOL ‘Welcome to the Black Parade’ by My Chemical Romance. I have a Spotify playlist called ‘Classic Rock for Geriatric Millennials’ that I’ve been listening to a lot, and it’s on there. Here’s a link if you want to listen to ‘rock’ music circa 2000-2010. Also, (tw: sad stuff) this album came out a couple weeks after my dad died, and it really helped me through that time, so I’ve always had a soft spot in my heart for MCR and their little Black Parade. 

last tv show - I just finished season 2 of The Wilds. Hot take: I enjoyed the boys’ plotlines, and I’m interested to see where they go with everything in season 3. FYI for my fellow Olds, Ben Folds is in a few episodes playing himself and it’s kind of awesome??

currently watching - Forcing myself through Moon Knight (I DO NOT LIKE THIS SHOW; I do like Oscar Isaac). Started Heartstopper because my best friend is watching it, and it’s cute and sweet, but a bit too cute and sweet for my taste. But! My friend came out as gay about five years ago, and he’s still really struggling with his sexuality/identity and I want to be supportive, and I’m happy that there’s a show that isn’t about solely LGBTQ+ trauma and is just a nice little love story. LGBTQ+ people need and deserve that. (I have more to say about my friend and my own queerness and how we fail each other sometimes in terms of support/community, but that is a whole other post; Heartstopper is very inclusive and adorable, and I do recommend it to any and all queer people). 

currently reading - too many books!!! Nearly finished with Road of Bones by Christopher Golden, which has been a thrilling little horror tale set in Siberia that is centered around some of their shamanistic myths. Also, I’m two chapters in to An Accidental Death by Peter Grainger, which is good so far! I’m listening to the audiobook while taking my morning walks, so I’m interested to see what happens next. Also! A few chapters in to The Morning Star by Karl Ove Knausgard. It’s almost 700 pages long and has very long chapters and multiple narrators, which can sometimes be jarring, but I’ve enjoyed getting to know the main characters so far. It might take me a while to finish, but I’m really liking it and want to add more Scandinavian literature to my list.  

[myarchivesfile]

EUNWOO WAS SEEN CLUBBING WITH FRIENDS LAST NIGHT ─── INCLUDING HIS CLOSE FRIEND, JULLI.

'It's No Surprise Cha Eun Woo Is Losing Credibility And Here's Why!'

playlist linked!

this episode’s colors.

Julli is a songwriter who also happens to be Cha Eun Woo’s “close friend”. Although they haven’t known each other for that long they’re very tight. He was seen scaring her outside yet another club not more than 2 weeks ago. And not to sound mean but ever since becoming friends with her, Eun Woo hasn’t been the same — Far from that — he’s changed and it wasn’t for the better.

And I have proofs!

TRIGGER WARNING: SMOKING

Does the hand below seem familiar to you? Well, if you’re a fan of Cha Eun Woo you’ve probably seen his hands more than once or twice. It’s obvious the hand in the image below is his. But the strange part is: This picture was allegedly posted on Eun Woo’s ‘burner account’ also known as a ‘finsta’ among Gen-Z.

I mean, I don’t know if this is indeed Eun Woo but it’s concerning either way. We all know about our country’s relationship with cigarettes and alcohol and it’s not cute nor funny at this point. I’m worried for him and so should you. We all should be worried about Cha Eun Woo’s health. I’m dead serious about this too.

© salsaaaadaaaaanceexd

Instagram © jullifallen

Julli is constantly bragging about shallow things such as cars, watches, designer clothing and out of season partying. Does that sound like nowadays Cha Eun Woo to anyone else?!

Instagram © jullifallen

Julli and her friends at a club in Tokyo, Japan © jullifallen

Even her stage name makes allusion to the devil. ‘Fallen’ is a clear mention to Lucifer, the Fallen Angel. Also known as the devil himself. Plus her social media is pure luxury, all about partying and spending. And her group of friends is the same as her, just girls partying in the city — nothing more than silly people with shallow lives.

Now may I ask you is it what any of us want for Cha Eun Woo at all? What about his parents? Do you think his parents want a shallow life for their son? Let’s keep asking yourselves that and if we push enough we may as well get answers...

To be continued.

[zebee-nyx]

✨️When you get this ask you have to put 5 songs you listen to, post it, then send this ask to 10 of your favorite followers (positive vibes are cool)🎶✨️ (ALSO NO PRESSURE)

Oooooo music! Thanks for the ask [will send asks to who I can when I can, tho honestly won’t make it to 10 lol] Gots me a hand full of insanely big playlists, but I think I can narrow down to five of my top songs (^v^).

1. Don’t Panic - Coldplay

[By far my favorite song. Is comforting and makes me feel things are gonna be alright when there’s a lot going on (^.^)]

2. Record Player - Daisy the Great & AJR

[Was one of the songs that kinda helped lull me away from an identity crisis awhile ago… this is what I would consider the better version but the original is very good as well]

3. That Life - Unknown Mortal Orchestra

[Is bopping]

4. Slow Hands - Interpol

[Is also bopping, and been listening to this one all week]

5. Lua - Bright Eyes

[Just a chill, bring me back down to earth sort of song]

Ahhhhhhhhh!!!!!! (>.<) It was so hard to just pick five! There’s like a million more I love and want to link in but I’ll restrain myself (T^T)…

Bonus: Where’s My Higher Power - Sweet Peasant

Ok ok ok, I couldn’t restrain myself! (xAx) But it’s a song that’s so good and hardly anyone knows about it!

[dianight]

Today I got asked about my "touhou playlist" (which is more like 15~ different ones, but anyway). It was the Shibayan Records one, although they don't have all their stuff on their youtube channel.

I was explaining how I first heard of them on a bloodborne pvp video from years ago and I found it pretty quickly since I remember the title, but like the main point is that I realized that I haven't really used youtube in months.

Like occasionally I'll click on links or just answer questions on my videos but not really check youtube as I used to do a while ago.

Made some posts about it in april/may/june, maybe more but you know how reliable tumblr search is, about how unmanageable it was becoming.

Like it used to be a thing that you click not recommended on a channel or a video and you'd never see that channel again and you'd barely see any videos related to the one you marked. But now I'll get the same videos or extremely similar ones all the time, and no amount of clicking not interested or hide channel or watching other types of video (to be fair I haven't bothered to try in months, but I did try for a little too long) will make it any better.

If I go to youtube dot com, out of 50 videos (or things I can click on, rather) we get:

9 Vtuber clips

6 Video game OST

10 Touhou music videos

4 Souls related videos

5 Playlists with random songs

3 Touhou animations

1 Blue Archive video

7 Vtuber VODs

1 Video game "essay" (despective)

1 Madoka video

3 Video game funny video

And it's interesting because looking at it on list form it might look fine but many of those videos I'd simply click not interested and move on, and over time I'd get less of them and the ones I'd get would be more relevant.

To elaborate, in order: Out of those 9 vtuber clips, I only watch clips/streams of 1 of them. I know hololive tends to have that effect where you constantly get recommended stuff with others that you don't watch, but I used to get Marine/Kanata/Towa-sama videos almost exclusively and when I got others I'd click not recommended. At some point it straight up stopped working.

Out of 6 video games OSTs, 2 of them are from some time 1+ year ago, 2 of them I've clicked before on not interested and the other 2 are a limbus video (4-48 OST) and the other is on one of my playlists. Which should be enough to NOT put it there, because I've already watched it and it feels like a random "we know you watch this" kind of thing.

Btw I use an extention that hides a lot of shit I don't want to see.

And I still get some of them somehow.

Out of 10 touhou music videos, only 3 of them are ones I'd listen to (because I've done so before, they are in one of my playlists (!!!)). The others are genres that I don't like as much so once again I'd click not recommended and still get them. It used to be a way to find new groups or new songs digging through the related videos, you can't really do that anymore.

Out of 4 souls related videos, two of them are Zullie videos despite not having watched her in a long time, even showing me one for armored core (not interested at all) and the other two are speedrun related, so very ambivalent. I've definitely tried to hide those kind of videos before but I used to link some of them to teach certain things, so I don't know.

The playlists are infuriating, because they are randomly generated. It'll be 15 touhou songs in a row and suddenly you get a random song that you listened to 3 years ago. And they are meant to not show up.

The touhou animations are also annoying because I'd rather not see them, like either I've seen them at some point in the past 10 years or they are from last week with 12 views and it's like. Fuck yourself youtube, just throwing shit at the wall and see what sticks.

Blue archive shit I'd rather not see, always clicked on not interested/don't recommend. [Relevant for later]

Out of 7 vtuber VODs, only 1 of them is relevant (Selen starting in a few minutes). Even if I don't watch these days, it'd make sense to get that recommendation. The other six are from one I've never watched, and streams from anytime from yesterday all the way up to two years ago (¿). Once again throwing shit and see what sticks.

Random 2 hours and a half video about Outer Wilds. Fantastic game, irrelevant to this post. [Relevant for later]

Madoka video from last time I search for the full ending song. Okay.

3 funny videos from people who I've watched in the past few years.

---

If I refresh the page it'll be like 45 different videos and 5 of the previous ones. And no matter if I click not interested in most of them, I still get the same shit.

"Tell us why"

So so very useful.

---

I can click not interested, refresh the page and get videos from the same channel. Do it again and again. Took 7 videos until I got no Zullie videos. It should take 1, 2 at most if it's from another game.

And the more videos you click not interested on, the more random videos youtube will try to squeeze in. If I see an unrelated video from the past 2 weeks, you can be almost certain that it's just a wild guess to see if you click on it.

AND every so often, youtube will add videos from [white youtube that spawned under a rock with millions of followers] or random "themes" that appear to be popular at the moment. There was a period of time where, having never watched a single blue archive video, I could not fucking stop getting them recommended. Same shit with Oshi no Ko related videos, like I'm even reading the manga, but that kind of thing pissed me off because I am 100%, unequivocally not interested and YET!!! I kept getting the same video for like several weeks.

Anyway. My youtube shortcut is my own channel for management reasons, but I don't think I'll ever use youtube as I used to. It's not even fun, or like entertaining anymore. Too much work.

Hope it dies soon.

[dealgemeneverwarring]

De Algemene Verwarring #89

The eighty-ninth episode of De Algemene Verwarring was broadcast on Tuesday, April the 4th, 2023, and you can listen to it by clicking on the link below that will take you directly to the Mixcloud page:

https://www.mixcloud.com/MedialabKortrijk/de-algemene-verwarring-89-4-april-2023/

So, it’s been a while, people who follow our Facebook page know what’s up but for those who don’t, there’s a problem with the door of the Quindo studio. Two weeks ago my badge to open the door wasn’t working, so I couldn’t get in, and now the problem remains, badges aren’t working. So I decided to make a home episode again, like in those good old Covid days, remember that? Again, the advantage of home radio is that we can play some tracks that are digital only, or some obscure and hard-to-find or super expensive music ripped from YouTube, so that is exactly what we did in this episode. Pictured below are The Serfs, and we saw The Serfs playing at The Pit’s a few weeks ago and they were really great. Unfortunately they didn’t have any records left, so we ripped their dance hit “Vanishing Act” from YouTube and played it in this episode. We were also pretty blown away by the Goldscammer show, opening act for Annelies Monseré last week. We have his tape and we also bought the Bandcamp download just to be able to play a track for you. Some dedication huh. Other music in this episode includes Discharge, The Silicone Values, The Clean, Elastica, Kiran Leonard, The Legendary Pink Dots, Factory Floor, Ana Hausen, and there’s also brand new stuff from Leda, Olimpia Splendid, Es, and Kylinn Lunsford. And beneath the photo you can find the playlist for this show. Enjoy!

Playlist:

Discharge: Never Again (7” “Never Again” on Clay Records, 1981)

Silicone Values: Burn The 1980’s (digital single “Burn The 1980’s/1977”, self-released on Bandcamp, 2022)

Famous Mammals: Final Decor (tape “Famous Mammals” on Arvo Disques & Utilité: Zéro, 2022)

The Clean: Tally Ho (7” “Tally Ho!/Platypus” on Flying Nun Records, 1981)

Elastica: Waking Up (LP “Elastica” on Geffen Records, 1995)

Es: Swallowed Whole (7” “Fantasy” on Upset The Rhythm, 2023)

Kylinn Lunsford: Reality Testing (LP “Custodians Of Human Succession” on Ever/Never Records, 2022)

Ana Hausen: Professionals (7” Professionals” on Human Records, 1981)

Factory Floor: Bipolar (7” Bipolar” on Outside Sound, 2008)

The Serfs: Vanishing Act (LP “Sounds Of Serfdom” on Detriti Records, originally released in 2019)

Mécanique Rhythmique: Extase (LP V/A “Des Jeunes Gens Modernes, Post​-​Punk, Cold Wave et Culture N​ö​vö en France - 1978​/​1983” on Born Bad Records, 2008)

Goldscammer: B2 (tape “Goldscammer”, self-released, 2022)

Kiran Leonard: Seam Song (2x tape “Tresspass On Foot”, self-released, 2021)

Olimpia Splendid: Pupullini (LP “2” on Kraak Records & Fonal Records, 2023)

Leda: Calm 7/4, Riff (For The Middle Aged Woman) (tape “Music For A Film” on Kashual Plastik, 2023)

The Legendary Pink Dots: Love Puppets (LP “Curse” on Terminal Kaleidoscope, 1986)

[its-been-10000-years]

[02.05.22]

goodbye by circus is one of my all time favourite songs. it's a song that means a lot to me, and it still holds as much value to me now as it did 7 years back. and i cannot express, in words atleast, how much i connect to this song.

so when i first came across different seas, which was fairly recently- only a year ago- i was surprised to say the least. circus never does self covers of his songs (atleast not until this one.) he never even as much as spoke in his channel, so much so that i used to think the creator behind circus was a woman. (general assumption, and trust me i wasn't the only one.)

however, when i listened to the song, "taken aback" would be an understatement for what i felt at that moment. the way he sang it, the way there was so much emotion in his voice, i could feel it through my earphones. and i remember i stopped doing what i was doing and listened to the full song and its lyrics.

it obviously seems like he was going through something at that time. and he put his emotions into this heartfelt lyrics. and, i think, just an amateur assumption, that this is why he posted a self cover of this specific song. because it meant something to him, and he wanted to sing it himself. because otherwise, he had never posted a self cover of any of his other songs. and different seas isn't even one of his popular ones, so this just confirms my assumption even further- he had no other reason to cover this song himself other than to express his emotions through his art.

but i noticed something else, only recently after i was shuffling through my vocaloid playlist, that these two songs were uploaded around the same time. not too close, but only a few years. and i couldn't help but go through his uploads to check the timeline

now, it's not like circus didn't do "depressing" songs before. but in my opinion, iNSaNiTY, mErcy or circus monster were very, very general songs. they didn't feel like they were trying to portray anything deep. plus, unlike the ones i mentioned before, the previous ones didn't have a.... umm, concerning message in their descriptions. only promotional links.

plus, uh. the comments for goodbye are turned off, so......

[i feel like i just have to quickly mention addicted here, because addicted was imo one of his most unorthodox songs, and it was released right before shit started going downhill. so this is initially what made me concerned, that perhaps something actually was happening behind the screen, and couldn't help but feel that there was a battle going on in there.]

anyways. soon after his self cover for different seas, he released his most famous single to this day- copycat. and, i think, this was his start towards his journey to recovery, directly reflecting the message on different seas' description. (if you have heard copycat you'll know.)

also this song has a lot in common with different seas, but, in a more "i'm going to be okay" way. (sounds edgy, i know. i don't know how else to put it)

and soon after that he released 1/4 and this message really says it all. i don't even have to elaborate on that.

and soon after that, he started doing more cheerful songs. they weren't all that happy go lucky like with addicted, but they had a more cheerful undertone to them and i love it.

and soon he started doing collabs again, and began to post more self covers. i think during this time he was starting to grow more comfortable with himself and expressing himself less subtly to his viewers.

and his latest single came out not even 2 weeks ago, and i already love it. absolutely love love love the vibes (and not to mention vertical mv?? <3)

having said all of that, this really initially started as a confession post or whatever. i just wanted to express how much in love with circus' music i am. his music shaped my childhood and even to this day i love them. suddenly getting different seas on shuffle today was the best thing ever, i relistened to his entire discography and, well..... went through alot of emotions at once. nostalgia, joy, and very subtle pain. going through all of that from the start, from iNSaNiTY to just for tonight it felt like a journey, a journey through his life as well as my own.

maybe i'm overnanalyzing. who the fuck knows. and who cares? this is just a journal entry for myself anyway. and if anyone does care enough to read this all the way through it's not like they're gonna start becoming a hardcore fan of circus just because of this post.

speaking of which, if you HAVE read through all of that- what are you doing? 💀 no like honestly what are you doing. i pray for your mental well-being and for you to get a job or something.

anyways, this started as a journal entry or whatever you wanna call it, and turned into somewhat of a blog post. trust me, this is all coming from wishful thinking and none of it could be true. there is no actual research going on here. i just wanted to express my love for him. and i'm really, really glad that in case any of my assumptions were true- he's in a better place now and he's getting better by each day. i love him and only want the best for him.

and i would honestly love to see some more crusher collabs, matt. come on. you don't know crystalline and wildfire are my favourite songs to this day. i love you, and will keep supporting you as long as you choose to create music. because this is the one thing that speaks to me, and has done so since my childhood <3