#Winter ‘22 Rehearsal

[darktripz]

EQUIPPED DAGGER - Forest of Frost Enchantment

EQUIPPED DAGGER - Winters of Arcania

PRESSURED REMAINS - Death Before Dismount EP

MOURNFUL LAMENT - Winter ‘22 Rehearsal

[ducktoo]

Syncing Dream [Aespa x M!Reader]

22. Imma get it done

Note: Last chapter of Arc 3! Quite a short arc but enjoy!

Masterlist here

With Supernova a massive hit, aespa was riding high on the wave of their success. The comeback had exceeded everyone’s expectations, garnering rave reviews and sending them to the top of the charts. Y/n couldn’t have been prouder, even though he had become an unexpected viral sensation himself.

But as soon as the hype around Supernova had begun to settle, the group’s attention turned to their next project: Armageddon.

And Y/n, despite the teasing he’d endured from his Supernova dance attempt, found himself secretly thrilled about Armageddon. This style? This was his kind of dance.

The girls were in the middle of rehearsals one afternoon, going over the new moves while Y/n watched from the back of the practice room. His eyes followed the sharpness of Karina’s moves, the precision of Giselle’s footwork, the elegance of Winter’s spins, and the playful intensity of Ningning’s expressions. They were nailing it, as always.

But the choreography for Armageddon stirred something in Y/n that Supernova hadn’t. It wasn’t just that the dance was complex—it was the attitude. The raw, powerful energy reminded him of his trainee days, when he had thrived on styles like this.

As the rehearsal progressed, Y/n felt his chest popping to the rhythm, as if itching to join in. He could already picture himself moving through the motions, flowing effortlessly through the choreography. His body craved the challenge, even though his rational mind warned him not to make a fool of himself again.

He’d barely made it through Supernova without becoming the fifth member. But this? This was different.

The music cut off abruptly, and the girls collapsed onto the floor, panting from exertion.

“Wow, this is a killer,” Giselle breathed out, wiping the sweat from her brow.

“It’s so intense,” Winter added, stretching out her legs as she caught her breath. “But I love it. I look so damn cool here.”

Karina looked over at Y/n, who was leaning against the wall, a distant look in his eyes. “You okay over there, Y/n? You’ve been awfully quiet.”

“Yeah,” Ningning chimed in, still catching her breath but wearing a mischievous grin. “You’re not planning on going viral again, are you? Because if you want to try this dance too, we’ve got our cameras ready.”

Y/n snapped out of his thoughts, blinking. “W-What? No, no. I’m just... watching.”

“Uh-huh.” Giselle raised an eyebrow, not convinced for a second. “You’ve been popping your chest the whole time. Don’t think we didn’t notice.”

Karina’s eyes lit up with realization. “Oooooh… you want to dance to Armageddon, don’t you?”

The room fell silent for a moment as the girls stared at Y/n, waiting for his response. He hesitated, knowing that admitting it would only invite another round of teasing. But the temptation was too strong.

“...Maybe,” he pressed his lips thin, avoiding eye contact.

The room exploded with laughter.

“Seriously, idiot?” Winter said, her laughter ringing through the room. “After all that from Supernova?”

Y/n’s face flushed, but he couldn’t help but grin. “Look, Supernova was... Fine and fun. But this? This is more my style. I used to train with songs and intensity like this all the time. It’s different. You guys saw my first one when I danced to Drama”

"Actually, yea you're right." Karina nodded. "Drama was your favourite track from last year, and it shows."

"See?" Y/n exclaimed, ignoring the subtle tease from Karina.

Ningning clapped her hands together. “Well then, Y/n-oppa, you’ve got to show us. Come on! We need to see this.”

Y/n shook his head, already regretting his confession. “No way. You guys will just record me again and make me the centre of another viral video.”

“Duh.” Ningning deadpanned.

"You're stating the obvious at this point." Giselle deadpanned.

Karina smirked and crossed her arms, tilting her head in a way that made her seem both intimidating and playful. “You’re not getting out of this one, Y/n. You already admitted you want to do it. We’re not letting you off the hook.”

The girls stood up, forming a loose circle around him, grins plastered on their faces. Y/n sighed, realizing there was no escape. “Alright, alright. But no recording this time. I mean it.”

The girls groaned but agreed to the terms, reluctantly pocketing their phones. Y/n took a deep breath and stretched his arms, preparing himself. He hadn’t danced like this since last year. But muscle memory kicked in almost immediately.

Karina hit play on the track, and as the heavy beat of Armageddon filled the room, Y/n let himself go.

"Imma get. It. Done~"

His body moved instinctively to the rhythm, hitting each beat with a precision that surprised even him. The choreography was sharp, aggressive, and intense—exactly what he thrived on. He spun, kicked, and hit the floor with practiced ease, feeling the adrenaline rush through him. For the first time in a long while, he wasn’t the manager watching from the sidelines. He was dancing.

When the song came to an end, Y/n froze in his final pose, breathing hard. The room was dead silent for a moment, the girls standing there, wide-eyed and impressed.

“Jesus Christ…” Giselle finally said, breaking the silence. “That was... amazing.”

“Why are you our manager again?” Winter asked, her mouth agape. “Just replace Naevis and be our real fifth member at this point!”

Y/n chuckled, wiping the sweat from his forehead. “Ehhhh, no thanks.”

But the girls weren’t done teasing him yet. Ningning nudged him playfully. “You know you’re going to go viral again, right? Even if we don’t record this, someone’s going to find out. Fans always do.”

Y/n groaned, collapsing onto the floor next to them. “Please. No more. I have enough teasing from the other managers.”

Karina grinned, sitting beside him. “Sorry, but you brought this on yourself. The dance was too good not to share.”

-

After the intense rehearsal and teasing session, the practice room finally began to settle down. The girls were going through the motions of cooling down, wiping their faces with towels, while Y/n leaned back against the wall, catching his breath.

As the group prepared to wrap up, Y/n couldn’t help but glance at Winter. She was still in her stage outfit, a sleek black ensemble that fit perfectly with the fierce concept of Armageddon. Her hair was slightly tousled, her eyes still carrying that sharp intensity from the dance, and for a moment, Y/n found himself a bit… distracted.

(I mean….look at her!!)

He cleared his throat, trying to shake off the thought. "Stop it, Y/n. She’s just in her stage outfit. It’s nothing."

But the idea of filming a short-form video with Winter suddenly popped into his mind. He’d already danced to "Supernova" and, well, kind of nailed the moves for "Armageddon" earlier. Why not just one quick video with Winter? Something fun with your besties.

Besides, Winter in that outfit—she looked amazing. Maybe too amazing.

"Just a video for fun" he told himself.

But before he could gather the nerve to ask, Winter beat him to it.

“Ya, Y/n,” she called out casually, strolling over to him with her towel slung over her shoulder. “Wanna film a quick TikTok with me?”

Y/n blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “What?”

Winter grinned, crossing her arms. “You heard me. Let’s film a short video together. You know, for the fans and might as well get you viral for the lols.”

For a second, Y/n thought maybe he had spoken his thoughts aloud and she’d heard. But no—Winter had just sensed the moment. She always had this uncanny ability to read him since elementary schools. And now, there she was, standing right in front of him, offering exactly what he had been thinking.

He scratched the back of his neck, feeling a little embarrassed. “Uh, yeah… sure. What did you have in mind?”

Winter shrugged, a playful glint in her eyes. “I don’t know. Something simple. We can do the chorus part of Armageddon—you know, the part you’re obviously dying to do again.”

Y/n laughed nervously. “Ok, that is exaggerating…”

Just as they started setting up, Karina, Giselle, and Ningning caught wind of what was happening. They exchanged glances and quickly circled around the pair, smirks already forming on their faces.

“Wooooow, so when Minjeong asked you to record together, you will? Favoritism!” Karina teased.

“Ooohh, what’s this?” Ningning asked, clearly enjoying the opportunity to tease. “Are we actually gonna see some content from you, Y/n-oppa?”

“Or should we say… couple content?” Giselle added with a wink.

Y/n flushed a deep shade of red. “Oh piss off! It’s just a video for the fans!” He laughed.

Karina leaned against the wall, crossing her arms with a mischievous grin. “Suuuuurrreee.”

Winter, catching on to the teasing, played along. She gave Y/n an exaggerated, flirty glance, making him even more flustered. “I mean, Y/n is a natural in front of the camera. It’d be a shame not to showcase his skills, right?”

"Since when?"

Winter raised her eyebrow. "Supernova, duhhh."

Y/n groaned, shaking his head. “You’re all going to make this impossible, aren’t you?”

The girls burst into laughter, enjoying every second of his embarrassment. Winter, still smiling, leaned in a little closer, her voice teasing yet somehow genuine. “Come on, idiot. It’s just a quick video. You and me, no pressure.”

Despite his nerves, Y/n found himself nodding. “Alright, alright. Let’s just get it over with before they start recording us. And I need a cap from you, Aeri.”

"Oh, shit. He's serious now." Giselle wooed.

Winter grinned in victory and quickly set up her phone. She positioned them both in front of the camera, standing side by side, ready to film. The beat of Armageddon played softly in the background, and as soon as the music hit the right moment, they started dancing together.

Winter, as always, was perfectly in sync, her moves precise and confident. Y/n, to his own surprise, managed to keep up. The intensity of the choreography suited them both, and for a brief moment, they forgot about the teasing eyes watching them from the sidelines.

But, of course, the peace didn’t last long.

“Look at them,” Karina whispered loud enough for everyone to hear. “They look like they’re shooting a couple’s video.”

“Maybe we should start shipping them,” Giselle added with a grin. “Imagine the fan theories.”

Ningning, never one to hold back, clapped her hands. “We could call it MinY/n Or Y/nTer!”

Y/n almost tripped mid-dance as his face turned a deep shade of red. Winter, however, laughed it off and continued dancing, her smile never fading. She seemed completely unfazed by the teasing, while Y/n struggled to maintain his composure.

They finished the short routine, and Winter hit pause on the recording. “There. Done. Easy, right?”

Y/n exhaled, grateful that the dance was over. “Yeah, easy.”

But before he could relax, Ningning jumped forward and grabbed Winter’s phone, quickly hitting play on the video. “Let’s see how it turned out!”

"I'll just go and bury myself in the corner." Defeated, Y/n dragged himself away to avoid any further embarrassments.

As the video played, the girls huddled around the phone, watching intently. Giselle and Karina exchanged knowing smirks while Ningning giggled at Y/n’s obvious nervousness during the dance.

“You two actually look pretty good together,” Karina teased. “Maybe we should make this a regular thing.”

Winter shot a playful glance at Y/n. “What do you think, idiot? Should we make this a regular thing?”

Y/n, still flustered, just shook his head and laughed awkwardly. “I think one video is enough for me, thanks.”

But deep down, as much as he dreaded the teasing, Y/n couldn’t help but enjoy the moment. Sharing the stage, even just for a short video, felt like a piece of his old trainee life returning. And as much as he tried to deny it, dancing with Winter, teasing or not, had been… fun.

Before the teasing could go any further, Winter tucked her phone away and turned to the others with a grin. “Alright, that’s enough. Let’s not torment our idiot too much.”

“Aww, you’re being too nice,” Giselle pouted, though clearly joking.

“Don’t worry,” Ningning added with a wink. “I’ve already saved the video for future teasing material.”

Y/n groaned but smiled despite himself. As much as they teased him, he knew it was all in good fun. These moments, as chaotic and embarrassing as they could be, were what made living and working with aespa so special.

-

As the laughter and teasing finally died down, Y/n excused himself, heading to the kitchen for a moment of peace. He grabbed a bottle of water, still smiling at the chaos the girls had stirred up. These moments—though filled with endless teasing—were oddly comforting. The energy, the camaraderie, the way they pulled him into their world—it made everything worth it.

But his peaceful moment didn’t last long.

“Y/n,” a familiar voice called from behind him.

He turned to see the CEO standing in the doorway, arms crossed, a knowing smile on his face. Y/n stood up straighter, immediately switching into work mode. “Ah, sir! Didn’t know you were here.”

The CEO walked into the kitchen, casually leaning against the counter. “Caught the tail end of that video. You and Winter, huh? Not bad, not bad.”

Y/n flushed slightly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Ehhh. It was just for fun. The girls wanted to film something quick for the fans.”

The CEO nodded, but the glint in his eyes hinted at something more. “You looked good out there, you know. Really natural. Makes me wonder…”

Y/n blinked, suddenly sensing where the conversation was heading. “I don't like where this is going…”

The CEO straightened up, arms still crossed as he studied Y/n. “You were a trainee before, and clearly haven’t lost your touch. What if we… you know, gave you another shot? A chance to redebut. You’d have the experience and fan support now, especially after going viral. Plus, the girls clearly like having you around.”

Y/n felt his stomach drop.

Redebut?

As in, go back to being an idol?

For a moment, the thought danced in his mind. The training, the performing, the stage lights—it was once his dream. But now, standing in the midst of the chaos that was aespa’s world, he realized something important.

Sure, being on stage again could be exciting, but he had found a different kind of joy here. Being their manager, getting teased relentlessly, watching over them as they navigated their own journey—that felt more fulfilling than anything. They relied on him, just as much as he did on them. The chaos they brought into his life was something he’d grown to appreciate, maybe even love.

Y/n shook his head, smiling softly. “I appreciate the offer, sir, but… I think I’m good where I am.”

The CEO raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Really? You’re sure? It’s not every day someone gets a second chance like this.”

Y/n laughed lightly, glancing back toward the practice room where the girls were still giggling about their latest prank. “Yeah, I’m sure. To be honest, It is more peaceful than I thought…despite how it looks. Plus, it feels more fulfilling.”

The CEO studied him for a moment before breaking into a grin. “Fair enough. Not everyone can handle that kind of chaos, but you seem to be managing it pretty well.”

Y/n chuckled. “Barely. These kids will make me age faster.”

With a nod, the CEO clapped him on the shoulder. “Well, if you ever change your mind, the offer’s on the table. But for now, I’m glad you’re sticking with them. They need someone like you.”

As the CEO walked away, Y/n took a long sip of water, letting out a deep breath. The idea of redebuting… it had been tempting, but this was where he belonged. Watching over aespa, dealing with their endless teasing, and navigating through their ups and downs—this was his life now.

Otherwise, who would watch over that crybaby better than himself?

[junedenim]

2009

beneath the boardwalk, part 7 (series masterlist)

secret door

warnings: a tad angsty, a tad fluffy, a tad smutty, a sweet tooth, etc.

word count: 10.5k

Alex and I shared his childhood bed. I spent Christmas and New Year's with my family in Bath, but I made the trip up to Sheffield on the 4th of January for Alex's birthday on the 6th. It was a rather unremarkable birthday but it remains one of the coziest. Alex and I thought about going out to drink but his mum made him a cake. After we ate the cake, we were too tired so we played a game of Cluedo with his parents and went to bed.

After this birthday, I realized I enjoyed Alex's birthday more than my own. My birthdays have had the long tradition of ending in dramatics or sadness or just plain boring. The simplicity of Alex's birthdays has always brought me comfort, maybe because he doesn't want a party. He doesn't want to do anything. He just wants to relax and play Cluedo.

When we went to bed that night, we were practically stacked on top of each other. He offered to sleep on the floor because, although we had done the twin bed shuffle before, it never equalled the best sleep. I denied him and said I would. He denied me so I laid half my body on top of him to not fall off the bed.

I combed his hair back. It had grown out in the desert but was softer than ever. His mum made him get a trim, which tamed up the hair, making it fall perfectly as opposed to his faux sideburn days. "How's 23 feel?"

He shrugged and reached a hand up to push my curtain-like hair behind my ear. My hair was getting long too, which I was thankful for because I didn't want to resemble Alex too much. I had grown my fringe out in the desert. My hair looked shaggier than ever but I kind of liked the roughness of it. Maybe that was the part that resembled Alex's hair. "No different than 22," he said.

"I guess we've passed all the fun ages," I sighed. "We're truly adults now."

Alex smiled softly. "That feels weird. I know we've done all these adult things, but actually being referred to as one is still weird."

"I can always account for you being older than me. That's all that matters."

He shook his head, amused by me. "Those 3 months mean a lot to you."

"Yeah, they must have been the worst 3 months of your life."

"Why?"

"'Cause you were living in a world without me."

He kissed me and then said, "That would truly be." A kiss to the cheek. "Hell." A kiss to the neck. "On." A kiss to the right collarbone. "Earth." A kiss to the right breast.

*

In the latter half of January, the band went on a small Australian & New Zealandian tour. I went because what else would I do? The majority of the tour was for the Big Day Out Festival which was hosted in Sydney, Melbourne, Gold Coast, Adelaide, Perth, and Auckland.

Their first show back in Wellington came with the debut of some Humbug songs, which I had already known of through recording and rehearsals. But seeing "Pretty Visitors" live for the first time ever was life-changing, even if Alex did stand awkwardly with his hands in his jacket's pockets. Like Pinocchio came to life, still not adapted to his new body.

I used the label-comped airfare travel to explore rather than attend most of their concerts. The dates were compacted close together so I was the only one out of our crew that got to defrost from the British winter in the Australian sun.

In February, the band was due to return to California to finish the album. Late one night in Perth, Alex asked me, "Are you coming back?"

It had been a deflected point like most things. Pushed off until someone or something made the decision for me. I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to go back to London alone. I didn't want to be in California alone. Ultimately, the business card from Opal stuck in my wallet tipped the scale.

"I think I want to finish it out," I told him.

Excitement flashed in his eyes but he stayed still. "Are you sure? I'll be back before you know it. Everything will be fast. You won't even miss me."

I tugged at him. "Of course, I'll miss you. And you'll be off on tour soon and I like the idea of going with you but you know I can't do a whole tour with you. I have to be independent."

The greatest accomplishment in my life might be Alex's pride in me. I don't know how I earned his belief in me. It was there right from the moment we met and it never dissipated, even when we broke up. His smile flashed with pride then, small, but always proud in the stances I made for myself.

"I know," he said. "And I love being with you but I like hearing what you get up to when I'm away. And it'll be more flexible this time since you're out of school."

"And, maybe, I could get some work out in LA. Just freelance or something. I feel like I just gave up last time and didn't bother with a job. You know, me and complaining."

"Shush, you're opinionated. It's how I like my women."

"Women?"

He corrected, "Woman."

I chuckled and slotted my head on his shoulder. "I think maybe I'll get in touch with Opal. Maybe one day write for the LA Times. Would that make me a traitor?"

"No," he laughed, "just maybe a red coat." The skin near his eyes crinkled up, pleased with his joke. I prayed to make those wrinkles become permanent, for him to live in a lifetime of laughter, specifically from my jokes but I do get a special funny feeling when he's laughing at his own humor. It's like he's patting himself on the back, something he does physically do.

There was a question of giving in too much to Alex. I was chasing a boyfriend through the world, which was okay because I was traveling and exploring too and I wanted to be with him but I always worried about my association with him—clinging too tightly, representing an image of somebody who lived off of him. At times (and eventually), it consumed me.

*

In our rented LA home there was a bay window, which didn't look out on much other than the road and the opposing house. While Alex was at the studio, I sat there and wrote. By that point, I had compiled my essays in a file I called "LA Times." My intention wasn't to submit the works to the LA Times—I had yet to hear back from Opal on any openings—but it was simply something in the works—a digital diary of those past few Californian months.

I had begun submitting work and didn't hear back. I thought of getting a part-time job or babysitting gig, but it felt like a waste of my degree, and Alex had plenty of funds to go around.

Opal and I went out for drinks and it was the first time I went out in LA, independent from Alex. It was fast fun. Opal talked in excessive sweetness but was snarky in response to any disparity toward her.

She seemed so worldly but had never lived anywhere outside of LA. She wasn't any form of a writer but she worked with writers all day and asked if she could look at my work. I was shyly reluctant but she tugged it out of me. Some small 500-word piece I liked.

She gushed about it (and still does) insisting on me giving her more of my writing. I slowly trickled more pieces to her before she accumulated enough to give to her friend, Jackson Ferrera.

Opal began coming over to our house. If Alex was out late, we'd have dinner together. We drink together most Friday nights. We smoked a joint together once and she laughed so much she peed herself.

Opal and Alex had an interesting relationship. Opal paid compliments to his appearance like she did with everyone but it never verged on sexual or romantic. She was an observer like all of us, but she didn't write about it.

She'd also mock him as most girls do together behind their boyfriend's back. All remaining affectionate and loving. The kind of way I talked about Stacey. She was my pestering little sister who was also my youthful partner-in-crime.

"I love your hair, hon!" She said once to Al after he returned home to us watching Glee on the couch.

"Oh." He patted down the sides of his hair as if he forgot it was on his head. "I guess."

He left the room and Opal turned to me and said, "That man can not take a compliment."

I laughed and shrugged. "I've tried my best. I think he thinks you're lying to him."

"Why?!" Opal's mouth lay agape. "I'm not a liar."

I stared at her speculatively. "Everyone's a liar."

"I'm not." She placed her hand on her chest, insisting to me, "My mom told me to never lie."

I don't know if Opal has ever lied, not expansively. Not even little white lies. If you asked her how her day was, she'd tell you honestly. Maybe she fibbed and told half-truths, but she'd never fake compliment you.

She was judgy. On the other side of her kindness was someone who would honestly tell you that you look ugly in that dress. Her job seemed like her destiny, paid to have an opinion because she wasn't designed for fake niceties. I appreciated and needed the quality. It was a confidence boost and a humbling force.

*

For my birthday, Alex took me to Big Sur. We flew up to San Jose and Alex drove us down to our lodge where I fell asleep and woke up 23.

In the early morning, we walked along Pfeiffer Beach where the water was too cold and dangerous to swim in and the wind blew so hard it blinded us. We abandoned the beach, had lunch, and walked Point Lobos, which felt like we'd walked into a dream. The water waved its blues and the wind waved through the trees just right to create the perfect breeze.

"You know," I said, "this is the first trip we've ever been on. Just you and me."

Alex bowed his head and said, "Suppose that's my fault. At least we've done Wicklow."

"I know, but it doesn't really count. We probably wouldn't have gone if we weren't in Dublin." We both walked with our hands in our pockets and it was easy to think of all those talks we'd had before with our hands stuffed into our jeans pockets.

Alex smiled, his eyes covered with sunglasses, and his hair framing his face. "I'm making up for it now. Best I can." He placed one of his hands on the small of my back; a reassuring touch. Alex often felt insufficient and I wasn't the best at combating that doubt. I know he's carried guilt for self-claimed selfishness. If we were both older I wouldn't have tolerated this in the manner I did at that age. I never cared that he wanted things because he wanted me to be a part of them. However, there was always a sense that Alex had to "make up" for what he had done. I don't know if that hurt me or pleased me.

When we finished the trail we had to go back to our lodge because Alex had slipped down a hill and cut a hole into his jeans. Believe me, very funny, I wish I had it to submit to Funniest Home Videos but alas...

Alex drove for the majority of the trip. I wasn't very good at driving in America. It confused my brain. I reached over, brushing a chunk of his hair behind his ear like he had done for me countless times. "You think you're going to keep it long?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. Do you think I should?"

"If you like it," I permitted.

He glanced over and gave me a look. "Does that mean you don't like it?"

I hummed. I had never really thought about it. "No. I like it," I decided. "It makes you look older. I think if you had the same cut as college you'd still look like you were 17."

"You don't think I've aged at all?"

"It's hard to tell. I've never been away long enough to notice a difference. What about me? Do I look older?" I batted my eyelashes.

He chuckled at my brazen show. "You look 23 to me."

*

I got a call from Jackson Ferrera a week after my birthday. I didn't know who he was and almost didn't answer the call when it rang at 10:30 AM, still in bed. Alex had left an hour or two earlier, kissing my forehead and unintentionally waking me up. We mumbled, "Bye, baby" to one another before he left and I drifted back to sleep.

I was in the shower when Alex returned home. It was somewhere around 5 PM and a Wednesday and I hadn't left the house once. I was in the middle of washing my hair when I heard the bathroom door open and my worries about this becoming a scene from Psycho dissipated when Alex said, "Hey, honey." Isn't it cute? We call each other honey now. It originated from Opal. We imitated her calling everyone "honey" with one another until we actually just ended up calling each other "honey" all the time.

"Hey," I called out over the shower. Alex discarded his clothes and joined me in the shower. We had started doing that more often too. We didn't often have sex in the shower either. I mean, it did happen, but we decided to shower together more in a chaste quality. Alex has the ability to wash your hair in the same way it feels at a salon. It's complete bliss. "How was your day?"

He was my little dog with his long hair getting wet in the shower and sticking to his face. He let the water run over it completely before pushing it back and out of his face. "Good. Fine," he answered. "I feel like I've been hunched over all day." He pecked my lips, a domestic greeting.

I reached down for my conditioner and told him, "I'll rub your back before bed." We might as well be the old married couple with aching backs and a stay-at-home woman willing to soothe them. I don't like to view us as old-fashioned. We were unconventional. British desert Californians, who were a musician and a pretend writer.

Alex took the bottle out of my hand, taking the conditioner into his hands, acting his role of hair masseuse. "You're my savior. I'd have a humpback if it weren't for you."

I shrugged as I turned for him to rub the product in my hair. "I like taking care of you. Shall I have dinner on the table too?"

He scoffed, "God, no. I'd be dead of food poisoning if you did that."

I laughed because I wasn't offended by not having any cooking skills. Alex understood that and has never forced a change on that. "You can't blame me. My parents don't know how to cook either."

"Your parents don't know how to do a lot of things you can do. Excuses, excuses." He clicked his tongue and I giggled as he squeezed one of my butt cheeks. "What did you get up to while I was gone?"

I sighed, turning back around to face him, a big smile plastered on my face. "Okay, well, don't freak out because I don't know anything yet."

Alex immediately grabbed my hands, nearing a panic. "What?"

I pushed his hands down. "Calm down," I instructed. "It's not that big of a deal." He relaxed and awaited an answer. "So, I got this call from someone Opal knows. A guy named Jackson Ferrera—"

"Oh, god, Janie, you're leaving me, aren't you?" Alex joked, turning his head away in dramatics, pushing me away, unable to bear the sight of me. "I always knew it."

I slapped his arms away. "Will you shut up? Listen." He looked at me normally and nodded his head. "Opal gave him some of my writing and he's this literary agent and he wants to talk about maybe him representing me—"

I was interrupted by Alex's excitement. "Are you serious? Like a book or something?"

I was reluctant to say anything, not wanting to get his hopes up, my hopes up like speaking it aloud would cancel out any possibilities. "I don't know yet. I haven't even met the guy yet."

"But you're going to?" Alex clutched my waist, his grip filled with giddiness.

I nodded, trying to fight this big smile. "This Friday at noon. And I don't know what it would be yet. He could just recommend me for some stupid literary agent job."

Alex quickly shook his head. "No way, Janie. You're going to make a book."

"I'm not going to make a book," I insisted.

But he fought back, confident as always, "You're going to make a book."

"Don't jinx anything. He might just help me submit some of my pieces to some higher-up magazines. Who knows, by the end of the year, I could be in the New Yorker?"

He scoffed, "You're better than the New Yorker. They'll be begging for your work."

I bumped into him. "Don't say that. I'd love to write for the New Yorker. I'd be happy writing for Playboy at this point."

Alex wiggled his eyebrows. "They do have some really good articles."

I pinched his side and told him to shut it. He wrapped me up in a hug and a dramatic rain—well, shower—kiss. Everything felt like it was landing in place and California did really seem to be a place where dreams came true and all that nonsense that I'll make fun of for the rest of this book but for this one moment, I'll believe to be true. Then, Alex got shampoo in his eye.

"Ow! Fuck, fuck, fuck." He clutched his left eye and doubled over. The water and shampoo suds still pouring down his face.

I grabbed his shoulder and asked if he was okay. He insisted on being fine but his hand remained on his eye and he grinded his teeth down before I managed to pull him out of the shower without tripping.

I sat him on the toilet seat, dripping wet, and shampoo still a mess in his hair. "Let me see," I said, drying his face off.

He waved me off. "No, no, I'm fine." His hand remained on his eye with a refusal to remove it.

"Al," I said and tugged at his wrist. He dropped his hand and slowly opened his eye, bloodshot and pink. "Oh, Jesus."

"What? Did it fall out?" He joked.

I snorted a laugh and began searching for eye drops. "It's dried up, that's all."

Then came the struggle of actually getting the eye drops into Alex's eye because he refused to keep his eye open. He kept muttering, "Ow, ow, ow" as each eye drop flooded his eyeball.

Later that night, after I fell asleep in front of American Idol, Alex must have moved me to our bedroom or I slept-walked there. Alex said I did that a few times. When I woke, the red digital clock on my bedside read 2:32 AM. I dug my face into the pillow, pissed I had woken up in the middle of the night. I turned my head and came to the realization Alex was missing if he was ever in bed, to begin with.

I padded across our cold wooden floors barefoot in the dark before I saw the back patio light on and the faint shadow of Alex. I stepped one foot out and saw him, notebook in lap, cigarette in hand, gazing out onto the dark backyard, deep in thought.

"You shouldn't be smoking with your eye," I said hoarsely.

His head tilted back to look at me and he had a soft smirk on his face. "I'll live. Just needed something to relax."

"Take an edible then."

He vibrated off laughter and tapped the ash off his cigarette. "I'll find a different excuse."

I kept one foot outside and one inside, asking, "Do you want some company?"

He shook his head, insisting, "No, no. You sleep."

I was hesitant to move. "You sure?"

Alex nodded. "Yeah, yeah. Just finishing up some writing. I'll be in soon."

"Okay."

I returned to bed and fell asleep before Alex came back but when I woke up in the late morning he was asleep beside me. I wondered what Alex wrote. The beginning verses to "Stuck on the Puzzle" or if he never picked up his pen to begin with? Maybe I read too much into it but Alex never had qualms about me keeping him company while he wrote and our late-night smokes were ritualistic at that point. I believed he thought about something else. Me. Something too personal to share.

With both of us, those secrets that we kept from one another were exclusively worries. I can't help but think Alex knew what was eventually to come from my contact with Jackson. I can't help but think he worried. He always worried, suffering in silence. I screamed about everything and he sat with it, let it stir and brew for days, months, years. It was a habit of our 20s. But Alex always seemed to know, a habitual psychic and I was the palm in his hand.

*

It didn't end up being a book, not at first, but we did a trial period in which I submitted to Jackson who began shopping my pieces around to publishers. I was terrified and didn't tell anyone other than Alex and Opal for fear it would fall through and fail. Jackson felt confident and I supposed that helped, although I couldn't comprehend a world where I wrote a book, even though, for years, I had already written books in my notebook.

I tried not to think about it much. We were coming up on Alex going back on tour again and the question of whether to stay in LA rose, which was really just whether I would. I didn't like the thought of being in LA without Alex. I found the city rather unappealing but I didn't know where I'd return to. London was an option but I don't know how at home I would've felt there. It's cheesy to say Alex is my home because he's a person and I found that statement to be rather exaggerated. In those days, I just felt more comfortable wherever he was, maybe because I was so aimless myself, but I knew that I finally found a direction to go in.

One of my pieces did end up in The Village Voice. Alex paid to have a print copy sent, and he framed it. It embarrassed me so much that I stuffed it into drawers when we had guests over.

One night, we went to a party on some random Monday and sat on the uncomfortable fancy chairs, drinking cocktails. Alex had an Old Fashioned, I had a Cosmopolitan. It was an affair with some elegance, though I can't remember what it was actually for. We both vowed not to get drunk because we couldn't be hungover on a Tuesday.

I had my hand on Alex's knee and he had his arm around the back of my chair. I think the dinner they served was chicken but I don't remember. It wasn't very good either way.

"Do you think I should get my Master's?" I asked Alex.

He sipped his drink with his left hand and lightly tapped my shoulder with his right. "Why would you do that?"

I shrugged and picked up my Cosmo, trying to be Carrie Bradshaw in hopes it would get me a job as luxurious as hers. Or maybe just the clothes and the apartment. "Something to do. I like the idea of going to school here."

Alex's brows furrowed as he looked over at me. "But you hated school."

"That's not true."

He chuckled. "J, you complained about it all the time."

Maybe I did. I don't remember. It's like when people have babies and they forget how hard labour was so their bodies trick them into having more kids. "I liked the structure of it. Plus, a Master's would allow a more flexible schedule and you'll be away on tour soon so it'd be something to do."

Alex shook his head. "I don't think you'd like it."

I frowned. "Maybe I would."

"I mean..." Alex searched for what to say. "I just think you're getting somewhere with your writing and you're running away from it."

I rested my head on my hand. "Maybe."

Alex reached out and pushed my hair out of my face. "Whatever you do you'll be great at. Just do what you love, okay?"

His smirk put me on edge and I raised my eyebrow. "What? Like you?"

"Huh?" His face looked puzzled, worried that he had offended me somehow.

"I love you so you want me to do you?"

He threw his head back in laughter. "Get your mind out of the gutter, Janie."

*

The whole Master's idea felt foolish. So, I decided to do it, except it was March and way past the time for applications. In the meantime, I tried to figure out what I would do while Alex was away. I felt I should have wanted to leave Los Angeles after all my bitching and moaning, but something drew me to stay. There was a new friend in Opal but I didn't have any job prospects through her or Jackson. Freelance could fit but I didn't want it to fit. The idea of me writing a book burrowed more inwardly to my mind as Jackson stopped mentioning book deals and directed me more toward staff writing jobs to get my name out there.

But I felt that LA had wrapped its warmth around me and suffocated me long enough to want to stay. I liked America and I liked the city, but I also had a visa to worry about. I was over on a tourist Visa and since all work I had done was freelance, I was paid as if I was located in England still. I could fly back and stay for another 180 days or I could get a work visa, which meant getting a job.

That's when Condé Nast appeared. Jackson had unofficially become my unpaid job seeker, doing it solely for me as a favour. I suspected he felt bad for not achieving a book deal and decided to help me out. The Condé Nast position was for a product writer and reviewer. The issue was I had no history with a full-time writing job, but either Jackson had connections or they felt pity for me, too, so I got the job.

So, it wasn't LA, it would be New York.

Alex loved the idea and boasted about it to everyone, kissing my cheek after each statement, and squeezing me to his side. As for New York, he simply said, "It's your turn."

He would be away on tour anyway, so it didn't matter much other than that he would crash at whatever housing I picked in New York. We flew to New York in June. I had never been to New York in the summer. I had never been with Alex in New York.

Usually on our excursions, I dragged Alex around the town and up the hills. In New York, Alex dragged me to the Strand, Chelsea Hotel, the Mudd Club, the Transit Museum, and, most importantly, the turtle pond in Central Park.

Beside the box turtles and red-eared sliders, Alex and I rested against a rock as they padded their way shoreside. He wore a baby blue shirt and picked at his jeans, his mannerisms the same as when I spotted him across the room. "Do you remember when you used to have writing on your jeans?"

He looked up at me, smiling, pushing his hair behind his ears, pounds of fluff. "Yeah."

"What was written on them?" Those blurs of red markings and my wish to know those depths of his soul as if what he was really thinking was written on the knees of his jeans.

He shrugged and almost shamefully said, "Just song lyrics. Strokes and stuff."

"You wrote on them?"

"Yeah."

"I always figured that your mates had written on them. My Converses used to be covered in Joanie's handwriting and hearts." I hadn't thought of her for a long time. Nothing in America reminded me of Wakefield and so Joanie never came to mind.

Alex broke me out of my thoughts, asking, "Can I write on your trainers?"

I raised my eyebrows. "On my new shoes? Can I write on your jeans?"

"Sure." He pulled a pen from his pocket and handed it to me. His quickness made me hesitate but I pulled the pen from his fingers and thought of what to write. I could've drawn a penis but I wasn't that cruel. The black pen was faint against the dark blue denim but I repeated my sketching until the letter was clear enough. I wrote my name because I couldn't think of anything else. What's more beautiful than a person's name? Gross.

Alex seemed to like it, a grin upturning on his face, and an eyebrow raised against me. "Why don't you draw a heart around it?"

I rolled my eyes. "Do you want me to put an arrow through it too?"

He laughed but said, "Sure." I didn't add the heart or arrow. It would be too cheesy and ruin my beautiful cursive name. I returned the pen to him and he tapped his hand over the writing. "With me every step of the way."

I giggled, both embarrassed and charmed. "You gonna get it tattooed?"

I joked but he took it shockingly seriously. "Do you want me to?"

I bolded my eyes and tilted my head. "Stop," I chastised him. "I'm not trying to brand you. I won't even let you write on my shoes and you're willing to get me permanently on your body?"

"Those are nice shoes," he countered.

"You've got a nice body," I argued.

"It'll add to it."

Whether it was sweetness or idiocy, it did feel like love. I raised my legs and plopped my feet in his lap. "Alright. Write away on them then." They were just trainers anyway and his name in a heart with an arrow through it was worth much more.

Afterwards, we toured an apartment. Previous apartments we had toured had been far above my expected salary. Alex had this need to contribute to the apartment's rent despite not getting a break from touring until late October. I had a need to pay rent for myself. I never lived on my own and I felt this apartment should be my apartment, even though Alex's stuff would be there. 

Alex understood all of this, although still pushed to contribute some to the rent and, well, I'm never one to deny financial assistance so we made a deal that he would pay me for storing his stuff while he was gone and I would pay for the rest. This all meant those apartments next to Central Park were out of the question. So, we headed downtown, Petula Clark style. 

"You know, this area is called SoHo too?" I asked him as we walked down Thompson Street. He shook his head and I explained, "It's because it's south of Houston Street. So. Ho."

He chuckled and nodded. "It'll be like a little piece of home with you."

It turned out to be. I found a place on Prince Street for a reasonable amount. 1 bed. 1 bath. Windows that drenched the floors in sunlight, a big closet, and—the thing I was most excited for—a bathtub.

On our first night there, Alex and I attempted to do the romantic having-a-bath-together thing. I purchased a bubble bath solution from Target and Alex got a bottle of wine from Wine and Spirits. We felt very American in both stores. 

"I can't remember the last time I took a bath," Alex said as he sank into the warm oasis.

"They used to just spray you down with a hose, right?" I joked as I sipped on my wine.

Alex cupped his hand in the water and sent a splash my way. "Hey! You got water on the floor. And in my wine." I frowned at the bubbles resting on the surface of the wine.

"I'll get you another glass," he said as he stood.

I reached out and grabbed his leg. "Don't leave."

At my request, he sank back into the water. "Here. You can have mine." He stuck out his half-full glass. I leaned forward and kissed the back of the hand that was holding it. My version of thank you as I took the glass from his hand. 

He stretched his legs out and we kept poking each other until I took Alex's feet into my lap. I lightly rubbed on the left one, his big toe sticking out above the water. I felt sinking in myself and refused to look at him. I was becoming too soft. "I'm gonna miss you."

Alex sighed. I knew he hurt more than me. I missed him and we loved each other the same but I knew he had to deal with two kinds of pain. His and mine. We had to deal with missing each other and he had to deal with the guilt. I always told him it was ridiculous to feel guilty because I never held any resentment toward him for going away. But I guess we never properly addressed all that ugly stuff from the past, only in fights, and we never concluded properly, just in exhaustion.

But I think we both knew that communication would be the difference this time. The band was more established. I was more established. I think I would have hated being alone in our LA house without Alex but something about New York, feeling it was mine, made me feel a little freer.

"I'm sorry," he said.

I shook my head. "Don't apologize. I'm proud of you."

"Proud of you too." I looked up to see the big smile on his face. You know, it heals anything.

I slide deeper into the tub, the water covering my neck. I was bare-skinned and my insides were beginning to feel the same. "I'm nervous."

"We'll be fine," he assured.

I shook my head. "I know. I'm nervous for me. Being alone and the new job."

His hand found my leg in the water, stroking it. "You'll make friends in no time and you're a whiz."

"But what if I hate it?" I sounded wobbly like I was about to tip off the edge.

Alex, the calm force dragging me through life, said, "Then, on to the next thing."

I held a smile to him. One he returned. "My mother would say I'm being picky."

"Your mother who drinks for a living?"

I held offence when Alex spoke of my mother. The things he said were true but my whole life I’ll feel the need to protect her. At that age, I still felt destined to unknowingly become her. In that way, Alex was insulting future me. "Hey! She does other things. Probably."

Alex laughed and pulled his feet from me, curling his legs. "Alright. I'm cramping here." He rose from the tub, swishing the water around, peeking at the edges.

I gasped. "Even if the foot rub I gave you?"

We moved out of LA pretty quickly but yet again transporting all your belongings from one side of the country to another was a pain. We enlisted the help of friends but in New York, we were on our own for the most part, other than some hired movers. We weren't getting that couch up the stairs.

The band did a few festivals in Europe in July before returning for a New York show at the beginning of August. I was only a few weeks into my job and it was the fulfillment and structure I needed, although I wasn't doing much writing. I was fine with working my way up, setting an achievement, and moving forward. It was a mostly new idea for me.

After their concert, we did the ritual of bar hopping. I invited my new friend, Tasha, and her boyfriend to join us, however, her boyfriend ditched her after the show, which led her to get very drunk and weepy and therefore pulled me away from any time of catching up with the group. Although, they seemed very consumed by the drama.

"I don't mean to put this all on you," she cried to me. "But he said he was gonna buy me a drink tonight and I—" she was taking away into sobs.

"I'll buy you a drink," Matt offered.

"Really?" It was in fact her fifth drink. She had quickly consumed the first 2 from the rounds and pulled the other 2 from me. "I really liked him, you know. I love him, I think."

"We know, sweetie." I felt bad for her but all the crying was becoming quite tiresome, especially with a girl you had only known 2 weeks in the setting of an office space.

She sat up straight, wiping away that wetness on her face when Matt arrived back with a drink. For the time being, she calmed her waterworks with a gulp of liquor. "You wouldn't do this to Jane, would you Alex? Why can't I find a guy like that?"

I chuckled, "Alex ditches me all the time."

To the side of me, Alex's head snapped to me. "What?" His face was etched with a furrowed brow and a frown.

I turned to him wide-eyed and confused. "What?"

"I don't ditch you."

My mouth created a slight opening in bafflement. "Yeah, you do. Or did." I turned back to Tasha. "Either way, they're all assholes, you just have to find the asshole that fights you."

"Ha. Asshole." Jamie laughed.

While Jamie found humour in the situation and Tasha found slight comfort, Alex found offense. "You think I'm an asshole?"

I turned back to him. "Yeah. Don't you think I'm a bitch?"

His eyes were wide at the word like we were kids taught to put coins in the swear job. His response was quick. "No."

I tried my best to give it to him in an explanation that would placate him. "Okay. Well, I get on your nerves or whatever. Either way, you just have to find the guy that fits you. Now, I think we should get you a cab." Tasha nodded with a sniffle. 

After I stuck Tasha in a cab, I stayed outside to have a cigarette. I had a weird feeling in my stomach that I wasn't sure if it was from the alcohol or something emotional. I had a rash on my left leg that I labelled as being from stress but I wasn't sure what it was stress from. I felt a pressure on my chest and the perfect solution was a cigarette.

It wasn't a smoke signal for Alex to join me although I should have thought that considering our history and the perfect view from our table out the window to the street. He came out halfway through the ash and walked with hair in his face and hands in his pockets.

When he stepped in front of me, I reached out and brushed his hair out of his face and wondered if he felt this way—this feeling of caring, uncovering someone for your gaze—every time he did it for me. I tucked it behind his ear and peeked the small smile underneath that shaggy head. It tickled me, exposing a silent laugh from my lips. 

"You really think I'm an asshole?" He asked. His tone was playful but I knew he was worried I considered him to be one of them. That breed of man who brushed women off after they got their goods as if he hadn't loved and cared for me since the moment we met.

I held my palm over his cheek, holding my hand over his fire, rubbing the lobe of his ear. I just wanted to hold him forever and I felt like crying at the thought I couldn't. I don't know where the sudden emotion came from but I suppose by this point it isn't shocking to find myself crying, especially after 3 drinks outside a bar. I couldn't speak so I shook my head and kept the overwhelming pathos at bay by the rhythmic stroking of his ear. 

"I missed you," he said.

I cut any further words he had off with a shake of my head, a dismissiveness I needed. "I don't want to talk about missing each other anymore." The gates fell and I dropped my arm away from his shoulder, picking at my nails as my voice quivered. "All I talk about is missing you."

"Jane."

Exasperated with myself, I shook my head and looked away not to cry. "I just want to enjoy the night." I looked at him, listening attentively, eyes trained on me. "I don't want to think about you leaving tomorrow night and I'm fine, trust me, but I feel this ache all the time and I don't want to feel this ache while you're here and I don't want to talk about this ache because I know it's mutual so let's stop talking about it and pretend that this is just any other night in our lives and we're in Sheffield, grabbing a pint with our mates or something." 

I laughed wetly. He reached out to me and brushed my hair behind my ear and it made everything feel alright. "This feels pretty Sheffield, doesn't it?"

"What?"

He shrugged and took out his pack of cigarettes, plucking one, and placing it in between his lips. "Light me up, Janie, would ya?"

A smile tugged my lips and I dug into my purse one-handed for my lighter. He leaned forward, the end of it so close to me I could take a bite of it. I lit the flame between us and then to his cigarette. He took a puff before stepping back to exhale, his eyes stuck with mine. 

"I love you. I feel like we don't say that enough," I told him. He stood away from me but I felt so close to him like we had wrapped ourselves up in a fort of blankets, not standing in the humid August streets. 

"You don't have to say it for me to know it. Hasn't that always been our MO?" In wordless whispers and those longing stares, we had always spoken with some underlying language that didn't even make perfect sense to us, it was just there. 

"Yeah. Still, I want to remind you."

He chuckled and stepped closer, hooking his arm around my neck, and pulled me beneath his chin with a long gaze down at me. "I love you too, Janie. And all the rest."

"The rest?" I questioned.

His Adam's apple bopped and he looked up at the sky for a moment as if God was giving him the all-clear. His eyes reintroduced themselves to me. "There's this weight of love inside me that I'll never be able to express to you. It's just there, a consuming being that flares up whenever you're near me or I think about you. It's this constant. I've had it since I thought your name was Jeanie and I still don't know how to talk about it or what to call it—all this unexpressed love."

"It seems like you did." I tried not to sob. I thought of Tasha, likely crying in a cab, and I know I've always been a fortunate girl and I've been called lucky since birth, but I never felt like I truly won anything other than meaningless games until I was brought to Alex. I thought of all those missteps I could have taken to have never met Alex about how many things had to go a certain way for me to be at that first gig. How—I guess—I have to thank Matt, although that part is reluctant for me to say (a fear it will go to his head). But I kept it all inside and didn't tell Alex this because I think this is part of that weight of love I still can't fully express. "Are you sure it's not a tumor?"

He laughed at me and kissed the top of my head. My cigarette had been scuffed out against his jeans so we shared the rest of his before Alex suggested, "I think we should head home." I had never confessed how romantic I thought the idea of going home with Alex was to me but I have a feeling he just knew because he always just knows.

He took me by the hand and took me back inside the bar where we said goodbye to our party of people and I smacked a kiss on the cheek to each of them. They've always felt like brothers-in-law to me but I found as we grew older and closer, they were my friends too.

We headed back to our apartment, taking the A train. Alex held my purse for me and we sat in a sweaty, non-air-conditioned subway car, and it felt as though we were in London on the tube, praying for a gust of wind to come in through the little window and provide momentary relief. 

It was too hot to touch each other's skin so we held a small space between us and knocked knees with one another. Alex sat hunched over, his hands sitting on the top knee of his crossed legs. I leaned back against the plastic orange chair. The train was mostly empty but we filled its quietness with laughter. Halfway through the ride, that sentimental fuzzy part of me took a picture of him. I still owned a flip phone for the sole purpose of having a slideout keyboard, not known for having a good camera, and the photo was mostly unrecognizable to anybody but me, which might be why I liked it so much. 

I’d take these photos often and flip through them occasionally when I was waiting for the subway. I printed some out and pinned them on the walls because I didn’t want to buy picture frames. I folded one up and put it in my wallet because I always loved that Alex had a photo of me in his wallet—a tiny crushed-up photo of my graduation portrait, ugly, but he had pride for it and me).

Without Alex, the apartment had succumbed to my mess. There were clothes tossed in the corner of the bedroom, the desk was covered in papers, books, and more clothes, and the kitchen was dealing with a major dishes problem.

The hour was late but we were both determined to soak up as much time with one another as possible. We undressed from the day and dressed for bed, but sat on the edge of our bed over the covers, talking, talking, talking. Two frogs croaking at one another from across the pond. All we needed was Charlton Brook and we'd be our old selves again. 

"I never thought I'd like work. I'm not in love with this job but I come home and my feet ache and I love it. I like feeling I worked for something," I told him. "I think I need firm direction in my life otherwise I turn into a mess."

Alex looked pleased but all-knowing. He knew all these parts of me before I did. "You were raised without it so you crave it in other aspects." He leaned back on the bed, putting his arms behind his head, so casual in every sense of the word.

"Who needs a therapist when I have you?" I asked. He laughed but I was serious (both good and bad). He's an observer, he just knows these things from one look at you. He reads you completely and then acts like it's nothing. I feel I know Alex well, better than anyone, but not like he knows me. I've always felt there was a piece of Alex that was off-limits to everyone, even himself sometimes. There's a corner of him I will never reach. For him, my thoughts have always been a nude model on full stark display.

Alex turned onto his side and reached a hand over to me, clasping it with a tight squeeze. "You happy?" It was a quick check-in, the reassurance he needed that he wouldn't leave me totally screwed up and alone. Alex often had the feeling of needing to "rescue me," which was partially true but he took too much on sometimes, bearing the weight of both our emotional states, an overwhelming thing that put so much consequence on the question he asked like I wasn't just answering for me, I was also answering for him.

I squeezed back to ease his anxieties. "Yeah. You?" He stayed silent and looked around the room once, startling my heart. He tugged on my arm once as a smirk spread on his face. "What?" 

He tugged again, this time harder. I stared at him quizzically until he pulled once again, yanking me down to lay on top of him. He communicated with his lips, both silent minus gasps. He turned us, hovering over me, flat on my back. We got under the covers.

*

The following night we stayed in and ordered a pizza before having sex on the couch. After, I laid on Alex's chest, our nude bodies up against each other and I do apologize to anybody who sat on the couch after, I swear it wasn't that dirty. His hands were solid on my back, studying the lower curve of my spine, hitting a spot that made me stretch like a cat after a nap.

I sighed as the tension released from my back and laid back down on his sternum. "We're awfully vanilla," I said.

Alex snorted this big ugly snort of laughter that I find so cute like a baby learning how to breathe. "What, like chains and whips?"

I laughed and raised my head up, my chin pressed on his skin, staring up at his tucked head, awkwardly propped up on the armrest. "No. Georgia just told me this story about doing it on the roof of her building."

An amused Alex asked, "You want to head up on our roof now?"

He motioned sitting up but I pushed him back down. "We have an exposed roof. I'm not getting the cops called on us."

"Where's the fun in that if there isn't a little risk of indecent exposure?" He joked.

I giggled and thought of making a joke about getting visas revoked for public nudity, instead, I told him, "We're hiding tonight. Besides, I don't need all that for sex to be fun with you."

He bucked his hips up against mine. "'Cause I'm so good in bed?" He raised an eyebrow and wore a taunting smirk that made me want to slap and kiss him. How infuriating to be so intoxicated by him.

"'Cause you love me," I teased, tapping his nose. I slobbered a kiss on his cheek, which made him groan in disgust like it was his mother doing it in front of all his friends. "And you're going to take me to get ice cream because I'm thinking about vanilla ice cream now."

"From Morgenstern's?" He asked me, even though he knew the answer.

I sat up from him, noting his eyes on my exposed breasts (sometimes, it's nice to know a man is still a boy), and hummed, "Yes, sir." Morgenstern's sat two blocks up on Houston and in the past few months, I had developed an addiction to their bourbon vanilla ice cream and considered it my special treat after a day of work. Alex was partial to salted chocolate, which I always thought was a good balance with mine, especially since he'd let me steal scoops off his cone and mix it with my cup of ice cream.

Alex went out in jeans, a T-shirt, and his Doctor Martens. I went out in sweatpants, a camisole, and my flip-flops. It was 11:40 and only 2 blocks away! 

I was charged up and kissed him behind his ear as he paid for the ice cream. We must have been foul to look at with our hair unbrushed and a careless woman hanging off her good-looking man. I often had little care about how I looked at night in New York. Everyone in New York, one way or another, was loathsome to watch at night so I had no problem with the idea the cashier might have hated us for coming in right before closing, dangling around as we waited. Besides, Alex left a tip.

My hands clawed around Alex's shoulders and I bounced on the balls of my feet as they scooped our ice cream. We ate our ice cream on the small bench they had outside the parlour. Alex ended up with smears of chocolate on the corners of his lips. It was pleasurable to see him so untidy, it would make you laugh and kiss his lips, transferring some of the residue onto you like lipstick.

Alex chased me up the stairs of our apartment building with the menace of pinching my ass to coerce squeals out of me. We caused a ruckus, loud off of our sugar high, but, at the very least, not stumbling drunk up the stairs like some of my other neighbors. Alex caught me at the apartment door. I had no escape, he had the keys. He cornered me and gave a hard pinch working his way up from my butt to my stomach where I was ticklish.

"Mercy! Mercy!" I surrendered. He called off his attack, ready to head inside for some explicitness. 

He put the key in, turned it, and then it snapped. He held the bow, the shaft lodged in the lock. "Fuck," he cursed.

Panic set in as Alex fiddled with the doorknob with no luck. "Fuck. Are we locked out?" I asked.

He picked at the lock, muttering, "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck..." 

It soon became clear that we were stuck. It was nearing 1 AM, I desperately had to pee, and Alex had to leave in 6 hours. "Can we kick the door in?"

"Are you suggesting either of us is strong enough to break the deadbolt?" Alex stood up straight, tossing his head back in exhaustion.

I shrugged. "I don't know. You're pretty fit." He was proper chuffed by this, a slight puff in his chest. "I could try."

"With your flip-flops?" They were the cheap kind. I bought them at 5 Below. "If we break the door the whole building can walk in."

Not knowing the number of any emergency locksmiths, I called 911 and waited at the bottom two steps of the staircase facing the front door. "I guess this is what I get for eating too much ice cream," I quipped.

"No such thing," Alex excused. 

Shrouded in quietness and a reputation of lacking patience, I laid my head on Alex's shoulder and would have fallen asleep if my bladder wasn't prepared to burst. Alex tapped a beat on the denim-covered knee and we didn't talk, just stayed close, two beings huddled together for survival and companionship.

Firefighters came and had no luck removing the broken key so they busted into the apartment. We couldn't lock it but we could at least close it. I rushed in for the bathroom. I laid down on our bed and waited for Alex while he used the bathroom. I fell asleep before he returned.

In the morning, Alex nudged me awake. He was fully dressed and by the light stumbling in through the window, I knew what it meant. "I fell asleep. Why'd you let me?"

"Figured if you fell asleep while I was in the bathroom you were pretty tired." Over the covers, flip flops kicked off the edge of the bed, in the two minutes he was away.

"'Kay." I was still fiddling out of sleep when Alex tapped my arm, an insisting action to make me stay in bed. "Let me walk you out."

"No, stay in bed, it's fine." He kneeled beside the bed, forcing my hand.

"You sure?"

He nodded. "I'll see you in a little. Yeah?" He kept it short. It was the easier way.

I rubbed my eye, knowing I wouldn't be going back to sleep as much as Alex hoped I would. "Yeah. I'll try to get off sometime in September."

"Don't feel pressured. I'll see you in Philly, right?" That would be over a month away, 30th of September.

I nodded because it was easier than speaking. "Call me when you get to Boston."

He donned an assuring smile, leaned down, and kissed me. He left and I made myself a cup of coffee and drank it and sat with silence.

*

On a Wednesday, after a day of work, I took the train down to Philadelphia. I had never been before and part of me wanted to enjoy all the tourist things about it but I had limited time between 30th Street Station and heading to the Electric Factory. 

However, I made a pit stop along the way, getting off the subway, and meeting Alex at the Reading Terminal Market for a late lunch/early dinner. It wasn't the Art Museum or Independence Hall but it allowed a cultural indulgence of the city. 

Alex wore a jean jacket and didn't look like a man about to front a sold-out show. We bumped shoulders with passersby as we made our way through the narrow passageways. Alex got a cheesesteak, which I found disgusting. I ate a soft pretzel and assorted candy from a Pennsylvania Dutch candy shoppe.

We managed to find a table wedged between dad with his two kids and a group of high schoolers. Safe to say, we had trouble hearing each other over the chaos but we communicated through shared observations, reacting with a stare at one another as the father began to yell at his son or a laugh at the high schoolers mocking one of their teachers.

We hadn't really spoken until we left the building, stepping out into the beginnings of a crisp autumn evening. Alex bought me ice cream from Bassetts (as if I needed more sugar) and gave the change to a group of busking drummers by the door. 

I grabbed Alex's attention at a stoplight as I dragged out, "So..." 

He chuckled at my solicitation, dragging out his own, "So..."

The light turned green and we stayed in step with one another. I initiated the conversation but I had no follow-up for my So-ing. Sometimes, I just wanted to look at him but walking and staring is a difficult practice. "One of my pieces is going to be in this magazine n+1. Something I wrote back in LA, Jackson submitted forever ago."

"Is it going to be printed?" He asked.

"Yeah, but I think you can read it online."

Quickly, he shook his head. "I want the physical thing."

I laughed. "Always one for physical media, Al." It was clear with the record collection I was storing in a small New York apartment. You had transferred this habit onto me as I went out to purchase the New York Times from a street kiosk instead of reading it online.

"It'll be easier. I can read it on a plane, on the bus, on the toilet."

I hit his shoulder light-heartedly. "Alright, I'll get you the print."

*

At the end of October, Alex returned from Tokyo for a small tour break. We fell into a cycle similar to that of our London days. I went to work, Alex stayed home. We went out to dinner sometimes, and we occasionally went out for drinks with my work friends, but more often, we just stayed home. It was a cocoon and I think we both preferred to stay still with one another after distant months apart.

I drank coffee in bed one morning, a Saturday or Sunday with no rush for any obligations, fine with retiring to a day in our shoebox. We were both still in our pajamas. Alex sat on the edge of the bed, facing me, strumming his guitar. I was on my laptop, scrolling through someone's blog, but mostly watching him.

These unguarded moments with his head slumped over his guitar. His hair covered his face almost completely, only able to distinguish his nose from the rest of him. The ends of his hair held these perfect curls that I envied. He's been perceived to be a cool, uncaring person but I've found Alex, especially during these early years, held such a concern about coming off a certain way, whether considered cold or cool. A long-held hatred for unwanted watching, even from me.

His muscles had suspended into relaxation finally. I found he acquired this rest most often with a guitar. He held a light strum, sometimes humming along, sometimes writing a note in his little notebook.

I thought I was catching an unaware Alex working away, much like our first year of knowing each other. Then, he looked up and said, "If you're going to stare at me, you might as well help me." He tossed me his notebook with dashes and scratches that to the untrained eye looked like a chicken scratch of nothing.

I read it and this time I could feel him watching me. I poured over the words as he had done with his writing and when I finished I said, "I feel so inadequate next to you."

"Shut up," he insisted, both through his support of me and his own insecurity.

"It's a beautiful song." I handed the notebook back to him. "A very beautiful love song." I crossed my arms, smiling at him.

"Well, you know."

"Yeah." Because I always did. This loving, hideous, unspoken language of ours.

 "Good inspiration. You gave me the title." Alex took months of crafting before giving something exposure, like formulating a fine wine. 

"Well, you wrote the rest of it," I reasoned. "Is it for the new album?"

He shrugged and examined his own work. "I don't think so. Maybe just for you and me."

*

a/n: this is pretty much for goblinontour. the next parts will come much sooner, we're approaching the thick of it... oh, and if you see any mistakes, no you didn’t.

[ngt48fanshub]

(ENGLISH TRANSLATION) BOMB! MAGAZINE 05/2024 ISSUE - NGT48 KITAMURA YUHA INTERVIEW

"Bittersweet Kindness."

NGT48 Special Feature Part 2

NGT48 Yuha Kitamura

The 3rd generation member Yuha-chan, who will carry the future of NGT48, makes her debut in BOMB magazine's swimsuit gravure. Like a sweet and sour strawberry, please enjoy her gravure filled with cuteness!

"You are dazzling as you flap your wings freely."

KITAMURA YUHA Born September 22, 2004. Height: 154cm. Blood Type-B. Nickname: Yuuha, Yupa. 3rd Generation member.

"Your smile is the best."

"I’m shy, but I want to become someone everyone can rely on and look up to."

Ⓠ After the announcement at the summer concert last August (of 2023), you were officially promoted from a kenkyuusei to a regular member at the theater performance in December (of 2023). How did you feel during that time? Yuha: "There was actually a fair amount of time between the announcement and the promotion itself. If things had progressed quickly, I might not have been able to keep up emotionally. But since I had time to prepare myself mentally, I think it turned out for the best. It was also during the rehearsals for the 'Omoide Ippai' performance, so I reminded myself to be more dependable than ever."

Ⓠ Meanwhile, for Niigata, known for its snowy winters, the long-awaited spring has arrived. What does spring mean to you, Yuha-chan? Yuha: "There's still some snow left, so you can sometimes see the snow and cherry blossoms together. Oh, but this year we had a mild winter, so the snow might already be gone… Near my family’s home, there's a row of cherry trees along the river, and in spring, I used to take walks there often. When it comes to food, I think of kusa mochi (mugwort rice cakes)."

Ⓠ This is your third gravure photoshoot, so you’re still just starting out, right? Yuha: "Yes. Each time, they capture my natural expressions and movements, and I feel like I can show my true self more when I'm alone. I’m enjoying it."

Ⓠ What was the main focus this time? Yuha: "Up until now, I've done more mature-looking gravure shoots, but this time they incorporated things I personally like, so I think it has a really cute vibe to it."

Ⓠ On April 13 (of 2024), Honma Hinata will be graduating. That means it’s time for you, Yuha-chan, and the other 3rd generation members to take on more responsibility, right? Yuha: "I’m still not very good at bringing people together or expressing what I’m thinking… But I know I need to gradually improve in those areas, and I want to become someone others can rely on. I also want to become the kind of member people say, 'Yuuha really suits the center position.'"

Ⓠ Now you have 4th generation members joining as juniors. Yuha: "They’re all really friendly. I’m pretty shy, so I struggle to initiate conversations, but they come up to me and say things like, 'Kitamura-san, let’s take a photo together!'"

Ⓠ Do you have any dreams or goals for what kind of NGT48 you want to create? Yuha: "I think many fans may drift away when their favorite members graduate. But I want us to be the kind of group that, when those fans see us again for any reason, they think, 'I still love NGT48,' and feel drawn back to us. Also, I’ve had this thought since before I joined: Niigata is a large place with many festivals and events in each region. I want us to actively participate in those events so the people of Niigata can come to love us more."

Ⓠ Speaking of which, you were appointed as a Special Ambassador for Ojiya City (Yuha's hometown). Yuha: "Ojiya has warm-hearted people and many things to be proud of, like soba, Nishikigoi (koi fish), and bullfighting, so I hope everyone will come visit! For this gravure shoot, they prepared a lot of feathers, creating a world filled with things I love. As the 3rd generation members, we’ll work hard to lead the group and make it even better than before, so please keep supporting us!"

"A comforting atmosphere just by being nearby."

"Sweet and tangy, just like a strawberry. You make my heart skip a beat."

"Your kindness overflowed. A happy moment."

INFORMATION "Homma Hinata Graduation Concert ~ Look Up for the Cherry Blossoms ~" will be held on Saturday, April 13, at Niigata Prefectural Civic Hall. In January of this year, Yuha-chan was appointed as a Special Ambassador for Ojiya City, her hometown. The "Omoide Ippai" performance is currently showing at the NGT48 Theater. For the latest updates, check the official website, or follow on official X (@yuha_kitamura) & Instagram (@yuha_kitamura).

[aquamarinedaffodil]

A Very Darling Christmas - an advent fic by aquamarinedaffodil | M | 133k | Complete

⸻ ❄ ❄ ❄ ⸻

It’s Harry’s first holiday season since he opened the little bakery at Astor Square and according to his best friend Zayn, he is hopelessly unprepared. With the start of the local Christmas market right around the corner and an already hectic schedule, Harry really can’t afford to get distracted. Then again, neither can Louis, who is in the middle of directing rehearsals for a winter musical with his drama class and promised his colleague Niall that he’d focus all of his energy on the musical.

But you know what they say: promises are like pie crusts — made to be broken.

⸻ ❄ ❄ ❄ ⸻

🎄 CHAPTERS 🎄

🧁 1 🧁 2 🧁 3 🧁 4 🧁 5 🧁 6 🧁 7 🧁 8 🧁 9 🧁 10 🧁 11 🧁 12 🧁 13 🧁 14 🧁 15 🧁 16 🧁 17 🧁 18 🧁 19 🧁 20 🧁 21 🧁 22 🧁 23 🧁 24 🧁 25 🧁

⸻ ❄ ❄ ❄ ⸻

🧤 AVDC Playlist on Spotify🧤

[bizarrequazar]

GJ and ZZH Updates — November 19-25

previous week || all posts || following post

This is part of a weekly series collecting updates from and relating to Gong Jun and Zhang Zhehan.

This post is not wholly comprehensive and is intended as an overview, links provided lead to further details. Dates are in accordance with China Standard Time, the organization is chronological. My own biases on some things are reflected here. Anything I include that is not concretely known is indicated as such, and you’re welcome to do your own research and draw your own conclusions as you see fit. Please let me know if you have any questions, comments, concerns, or additions. :)

[Glossary of names and terms] [Masterlist of my posts about the situation with Zhang Zhehan]

11-19 → Rising with the Wind completed airing for VIP viewers.

→ The Instagram posted eight photos of "Zhang Zhehan" and a drawing of a whale.

→ Gong Jun posted a douyin of himself with a paper airplane. Caption: "The finale [of Rising Against the Wind] has its own rules and can break the situation with one strike! Goodbye, Xu Si" Fan Observation: The hoodie that he's wearing is the same brand as the one worn by the figure in the golden mountain photos he posted on 2022-12-17 that many speculate to have been Zhang Zhehan.

→ Gong Jun's studio posted a behind the scenes video (flashing lights cw) of Gong Jun with a puppy. Caption: "It’s time to cook, and the puppy patted Mr. Xu Gong Jun Simon and said: Hurry up and add more dog food!"

→ Gong Jun posted a video of Xu Si for the show's completion. Caption: "Exploring what can be done and what cannot be done is Xu Si’s investment rule. Dear investor Xu Si, I wish you good luck in the future!"

→ Gong Jun Outdoor Office posted eleven gifs of Gong Jun from the Rising with the Wind set. Caption: "The project is over, Mr. Xu please take a rest"

11-20 → Zhenguoli posted a photo ad featuring Gong Jun.

→ Fresh posted a photo ad featuring Gong Jun.

→ 361° posted a photo ad featuring Gong Jun.

11-21 → One of the Zhang Sanjians arrived at an airport in Singapore. In a video of this, he seemed to respond to someone saying "Bai-laoshi".

→ 361° posted eight photo ads featuring Gong Jun.

11-22 → Gong Jun's studio posted three photos of Gong Jun in costume as Xu Si. Caption: "EP41 (extra chapter) has been updated: Xu Si @ Gong Jun Simon’s winter greetings are continuing to be transmitted 📱"

11-23 → Vogue+ posted two polaroids of Gong Jun to their Xiao Hong Shu.

→ Gong Jun's studio posted a video teasing the outfit Gong Jun would wear to a Vogue event that evening. Caption: "Embroidered panda, full of charm. A preview."

→ Gong Jun's studio posted a video from Gong Jun's photoshoot that day. Caption: "Curves weave everything, and the charm of ink is hidden in the texture. @ Gong Jun Simon wears 'home' on his body and inherits the prosperous ancient heritage."

→ Gong Jun's studio posted four photos from his shoot that day. Caption: "Use needles as pens and threads as ink, fully displaying the charm of Bashu. Elegant and modern, with a harmonious artistic conception, @ Gong Jun Simon pays tribute to the intangible cultural heritage culture."

→ Gong Jun posted six photos of himself from that day. Caption: "Thanks to @VOGUE for the invitation, GJXM is here 🐼"

→ Gong Jun's studio posted four photos of him at the Vogue event. Caption: "The ink is smudged, delicate and elegant. @ Gong Jun Simon uses the beauty of Sichuan embroidery to convey the romantic quintessence of China."

11-24 → Gong Jun's studio posted two promotional images teasing a new single by Gong Jun. (1129 kadian) Caption: "On the count of three / please hold your breath and / recite my name silently again. 'Tomorrow Will Be Clear and The Sky Will Be Thousands of Miles'. Countdown to the release in 3 days"

→ The Instagram posted eight photos of "Zhang Zhehan" at a stage rehearsal.

→ Gong Jun's studio posted twelve photos from his photoshoot for the Vogue event's second day, where he would speak in a panel with Jason Wu. Caption: "Profound, mellow and elegant. @ Gong Jun Simon explores the integration and development of traditional culture and modern fashion."

→ Gong Jun's studio posted six photos of him at the event. Caption: "Drawing on the power of fashion, @ Gong Jun Simon explores the cultural texture."

→ Gong Jun's studio posted a video from that day's photoshoot. Caption: "Walking as usual, hiding in ink. @ Gong Jun Simon went to the fashion appointment calmly and touched the spark of ideas." BGM is The Rime by SCSI-9.

→ Vogue posted three group photos and a solo photo of Gong Jun from their event. They later also posted a video spoken by him. [subbed video]

11-25 → Gong Jun posted six photos from the Vogue event to his Instagram. Caption: "Special work, from my hometown. Thank you Jason and Kang Ning!"

→ The lawsuit against Nada, the Word of Honor scriptwriter, was resolved with her found not liable. [details here]

→ Gong Jun's studio posted a teaser of the upcoming single. (1129 kadian) Caption: "Count to two / and say yes. No matter how long it takes, / you will never forget. Countdown to the release of 'Tomorrow Will Be Clear' in 2 days."

→ Jason Wu posted three photos of Gong Jun in the suit he had designed for him to his Instagram. He also shared a number of photos and videos in his story, with the caption on one including a 🍊.

→ The Instagram posted ten photos of "Zhang Zhehan". This was later followed by another ten.

→ The scam held a concert in Singapore. At one point Jian dropped the mic without it making a sound, which is... not how mics work when they're on. As refreshers, [here] is my breakdown of the previous Bangkok concerts and [here] are notes from a space that discussed how these concerts are most likely fronts for money laundering.

Additional Reading: → N/A

previous week || all posts || following post

[beansonbread2]

BEANSONBREAD AWARDS 2023 - BEST SONG

AWARD NO.5 - BEST SONG OF 2023

PAST WINNERS

2022 > Jockstrap 'Concrete Over Water' (see full list HERE)

2021 > Self Esteem ‘Prioritise Pleasure’ (see full list HERE)

2020 > Jockstrap ‘Acid’ (see full list HERE)

2019 > Weyes Blood ‘Andromeda’ (see full list HERE)

2018 >Let’s Eat Grandma ‘It’s Not Just Me’ (see full list HERE)

2017 > Richard Dawson ‘Ogre’ (see full list HERE)

2016 > Solange ‘Cranes In the Sky’ (see full list HERE)

2015 > Kendrick Lamar ‘The Blacker The Berry’ (see full list HERE)

2014 > FKA Twigs ‘Two Weeks’ (see full list HERE)

2013 > Oliver Wilde ‘Perrett’s Brook’ (see full list HERE)

2010 > Untold ‘Stop What You’re Doing (James Blake Remix) (see full list HERE)

2009 > Joker - ‘Digidesign’ (see full list HERE)

2008 > Lil’ Wayne - ‘A Milli’ (see full list HERE)

2007 > Panda Bear - ‘Bros’ (see full list HERE)

2006 > Hot Chip - ‘Over And Over’ (see full list HERE)

-

RULES - A maximum of THREE tracks from any one artist. Songs can be tied in the same position.

-

THE RUNNERS UP (in alphabetical order)

100 Gecs ‘Hollywood Baby’

Alabaster DePlume ‘Did You Know’

Animal Collective ‘Soul Capturer’ / ‘Defeat’

Aphex Twin ‘Blackbox Life Recorder 21f’

Avey Tare ‘The Musical’

Bar Italia ‘Nurse!’ / ‘My Little Tony’  

Bas Jan ‘No More Swamp’

BC Camplight ‘The Last Rotation Of Earth’

Beabadoobee & Clairo ‘Glue Song’

Beck & Phoenix ‘Odyssey’

Benjamin Spike Saunders ‘I Can’t Impress You’

Big Thief ‘Vampire Empire’

Biig Piig ‘In The Dark’

Blur ‘The Narcissist’

Danny Brown ‘Tantor’ / ‘Jenn’s Terrific Vacation’

Das Koolies ‘Pain Down The Drain’

Dean Blunt & TYSON ‘Rinsed’

Divorce ‘Scratch Your Metal’

Django Django ‘Don’t Touch That Dial’ / ‘Black Cadillac’

Dorian Electra ‘Puppet’

English Teacher ‘The World’s Biggest Paving Slab’

Feist ‘Borrow Trouble’

Felicita ‘Spalarkle (Alys)'

Firestations ‘Undercover’

Hannah Diamond ‘Affirmations’ / ‘Twisted’

H. Hawkline ‘Plastic Man’

Janelle Monae, Seun Kuti, Egypt 80 ‘Float’

Jessy Lanza ‘Limbo’

Jockstrap ‘Sexy 2’

John Cale ‘Noise Of You’

JPEGMAFIA & Danny Brown ‘Scaring The Hoes’ / ‘Lean Beef Patty’

Kara Jackson ‘Dickhead Blues’

Katy J Pearson ‘Willow’s Song’

Kelela ‘Contact’

King Krule ‘Seaforth’

The Lemon Twigs ‘Any Time of Day’

Lil Yachty ‘Drive Me Crazy!’

Liz Lawrence & Steve Mason ‘I Was There’

Magdalena Bay ‘Top Dog’

Martha Ffion ‘The Wringer’

MAY ‘Phone Me’

Memotone ‘Door To The Sky’

MGMT ‘Bubblegum Dog’ / ‘Mother Nature’

Minor Conflict ‘Second-Hand Time / ‘Living Statue’

Mitski ‘Bug Like An Angel’

Mun Sing ‘Waiting In The Car’

Nadine Shah ‘Topless Mother’

Nourished By Time ‘Daddy’ / ‘The Fields’

Oneohtrix Point Never ‘On An Axis’

One True Pairing ‘Frozen Food Centre’

Overmono ‘Good Lies’

Panda Bear, Sonic Boom, Adrian Sherwood ‘Whirlpool Dub’

Patten ‘Walk With U’

Pinkpantheress & Ice Spice ‘Boy’s A Liar Pt.2’

Pozi ‘Failing’ / ‘Pest Control’

Quade ‘Streching Out’

Roisin Murphy 'CooCool'

Rozi Plain ‘Complicated’ / ‘Painted The Room’

Seamus Fogarty ‘They Recognised Him’

Shabazz Palaces ‘Binoculars’

Sierra Manhattan ‘Smartphones’

Slauson Malone 1 ‘New Joy’

Sleaford Mods ‘UK Grim’ / ‘Force 10 From Navarone’

The Smile ‘Wall Of Eyes’

Squid ‘Siphon Song’ / ‘Undergrowth’

Steve Mason ‘The People Say’

Tapeworms ‘IRL’

Terry ‘Gold Duck’

Tirzah ‘No Limit’

Trust Fund ‘London’

Vagabon ‘Carpenter’

Warmduscher ‘Love Strong’

Weird Wave ‘Unrecognise!’

Wesley Gonzalez ‘Dress Rehearsal’ / ‘When I Rot’

Yaeji ‘For Granted’ / ‘Done (Let’s Get It)’

-

THE TOP 25 SONGS OF 2023

25. Bjork & Rosalia ‘Oral’

24. MF Tomlinson ‘We Are Still Wild Horses’

23. Fever Ray ‘Even It Out’

22. Dorian Electra ‘Freak Mode’

21. Nourished By Time ‘Shed The Fear’

20. ANOHNI & The Johnsons ‘It Must Change’

19. Young Fathers ‘Rice’

18. Kwes, Sampha, Tirzah ‘Open Up’

17. Max Tundra ‘Lights 2023’

16. Squid ‘Undergrowth’

15. Tara Clerkin Trio ‘Marble Walls’

14. Rozi Plain ‘Help’

13. The Lemon Twigs ‘When Winter Comes Around’ / ‘Corner Of My Eye’

12. Animal Collective ‘Gem & I’

11. Max Tundra ‘This Woman’s Work’

10. Water From Your Eyes ‘Barley’

9. Django Django & Self Esteem ‘Complete Me’

8. JPEGMAFIA & Danny Brown ‘Burfict!’

7. Bill Ryder-Jones ‘This Can’t Go On’

6. Squid ‘Swing (In A Dream)’

5. Tara Clerkin Trio ‘The Turning Ground’

4. Lana Del Rey ‘A&W’

3. Steve Mason ‘Brixton Fish Fry’

2. Caroline Polachek ‘Dang’

1. Oneohtrix Point Never ‘A Barely Lit Path’

[hotarutranslations]

2 Conan Attractions

Evening

At USJ, I know that today the Conan one started today

But from March 22nd, A permanent attraction is being created, Eh!? I didn't know that but!?

Today I found out…🫣✍🏻

It seems that the information came out around last December? I was really surprised, why didn't anyone tell me…

USJ's Conan Attraction, And also the limited time movie release, I haven't ever experienced them once so, I thought, someday…… But I guess its different than that if its going to be permanently installed,

Its crazy, its finally come true🪽 There is a Conan attraction~~~ I'm so happy~~~

Lets go some day🫶🏻

I'm going to go since I have drive for it this year🫶🏻

Eh, the permanent attraction is from March 22nd, and if you go during the limited time event that goes till June, Does that mean you can enjoy both……?

Eh, isn't that amazing? USJ has two Conan things?

I really haveeee to go again🥳🪽

As its March, the movie will be released in a month,

It feels like its been a year, I'm looking forward to it

!!

This is a sad announcement but,

As of today, Ichioka Reina-chan has graduated

helloproject

We have even talked about Conan together

Therefore, even though its not because of that, The sudden announcement was surprising and sad

In any case I hope she feels better…🪽

Ichioka Reina-chan was taking a break during the winter Hello Project Concert as well due to not feeling well, I watched everyone continuing to work hard as a follower of BEYOOOOONDS

I hope that the shine of everyone in BEYOOOOONDS, will certainly continue to be a source of strength for many

For me, during our rehearsals last December, from the performances in the winter, It gave me strength, thank you!!

📺Hello Pro Dance Gakuen Season 11

April 18th 11:30PM~ A Learning From TSUKUSHI-san Adventure🕺

In season 10 we challenged breakin', its reairing continuously! On the 15th, 17th, 19th, 20th, 21st, 22nd, #1~#6 all at once! Check out HP for info!

Thank you for following.. Instagram💙🩵

💿Releasing February 7th

Morning Musume '23 25th ANNIVERSARY CONCERT TOUR ~glad quarter-century~ at Nippon Budokan

Thank you for waiting for the Blu-ray&DVD! Its finally releasing--!

Its already nostalgic but, It has an amazing medley, really Please enjoy it many times

📚Releasing on February 7th "Hello! Project BEST SHOT!! Vol.26"

Ishida AyumixOda SakuraxNonaka Miki📸 Fukumura MizukixIshida AyumixOda Sakura📸

✍🏻Tokyo Sports note Series #144 1 Person Review After a Conversation

I also talked about my solo trip to Kamakura I'm looking for ways to take photos of myself while on trips

🪩Spring Tour Has Been Decided Morning Musume '24 Concert Tour Spring MOTTO MORNING MUSUME

We'll be going around the country from March 16th!

🪩HinaFest March 30th and 31st at Makuhari Messe

🪩JAPAN JAM Morning Musume '24 will be performing on May 3rd!

《LIVE DAYS！～Exciting Big Exhibition Match～》 June 2nd(Sun), after the Hokkaido Ham Fighters vs. Yokohama DeNa Baystars match, Morning Musume '24 will be having a special mini live!

.👗👠 Aoyama Clothing x Morning Musume '24

📻Morning Musume '24 Morning Jogakuin ~Houkago Meeting~

Airs Every Saturday, On Radio Nihon at 12:00AM~

Past Broadcast Episodes Are Available →Program Details

It seems like the birthday goods!? Are starting to arrive!?

see you ayumin <3

[yearnstarved]

"California dreamin' on such a winter's day" // hollywood verse information for CLARA OSWALD

(celebrity stardom related triggers such as celebrity stalking, childhood fame, death mentions)

Exploring themes of: the effect of attention and fame on a child, the dehumanization of celebrity figures, the human disposition to mythicize normal people, the patronizing support roles written for actresses, but also! the wonderment of movies, the bestowal of joy and fantasy, the cathartic emotional purge through an actor as our avatar

PERSONAL LIFE

Some things always remain true from her canon like the fact she's born on Nov 23rd, 1986 in Blackpool, England. Her mum always gifted her books about wondrous travels and science kits to nurture her love for English lit, wanderlust, and science.

She creates her love for stories and fiction to her Sunday school teacher. As for her love for all things old Hollywood and romantic black and white films, that was from her Gran.

As a child she had a knack of recalling finer details (where she left her lucky pencil, her rehearsed lines for school presentations) once she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. One of her worst fears + reoccurring nightmares was being forgotten herself, like the old film actors and crew who never made a name for themselves.

When she was 19 her mom passed away and she wasn't present for it since she was studying live and television performance at an American university.

RISE TO FAME

AGE 8 - She performed in her first local theatre production with minor lines. The role opened her eyes to the thrilling and expansive world of playing pretend on a big stage

AGE 9 - From her theatre roles, she scouted for having a doppelganger-like appearance to a deceased Hollywood starlet, Ashlyn Oswin. She made her television debut in a historical 1950's mini-series. Critics began writing about how refreshing her performance was as a young newcomer with such bright wit in her delivery.

Age 10 - In an unfortunate incident, her parents both forgot whose turn it was to pick her up from set. She waited in her dressing room when a few fans who snuck their way in barged into her room. In fear, she ran up to the rooftop to escape them until security found her. Around that period, the buzz around her striking likeness to Ashlyn was the only thing most people knew about her. People got used to crossing lines with her from snapping paparazzi photos of her, following her, or theorizing she's Ashlyn's bastard child. Her treatment was very similar to Scarlett Johansson or Natalie Portman's when they were children/teens. Her parents chose to withdraw her from further auditions/accepting roles so she could return to a normal life.

AGE 18-22 - She had a hard time adjusting and always thought about being in the limelight again since she tied so much of her self-worth and confidence to it. After numerous fights with her parents, she stuck to her ambition of making it big in Hollywood. She was forever motivated by the quote, "There's no larger responsibility than great potential." She attended university for theatre and television where she met many other students who would later be her colleagues.

AGE 22 - Clara accepts the role to play Ashlyn Oswin in a biopic movie which ended up being her breakthrough role. To show her gratitude towards the starlet, she officially changed her name to Clara Oswin Oswald.

CAREER SUMMARY

Her early filmography is full of kitschy 2000s action/monster movies like Eight Legged Freaks (2002) or Evolution (2001). She was just The Pretty Girl and most of her storylines centered around her being British and quirky. Later on, she transitioned to being in science fiction action movies similar to Sunshine (2007) and Jumper (2008).

She found the most fulfillment when she worked on a Dreamworks animated movie equivalent and realized she loves working in family oriented productions. She came back to the quote "there's no larger responsibility than great potential" to mean that it was her responsibility to provide healthy and fun escapism and wonderment for children.

Rejoice, she never tried to have a music career

More to be added later or never, depending

Might be changed later but her star status might mirror Kate Beckinsale's best? With her acting style and technique mirroring Emma Stone's

[shodges3835]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Ellen Tracy 1x black silk/spandex stretch tank vintage nwt 80’s 90’s y2k.

[fragilecapricornconfessions]

I am not allowed to talk to you, so I will just talk to myself. I was just thinking about the winter break. With both of us being home, it would have been such a great opportunity to chat for hours and hours. We lost it. We lost the opportunity. Instead, only God knows what you were doing. I know I had the impulse to reach out to you on so many occasions, but of course, I didn't. I just think about how badly I want you to initiate communication. If I could just get a few words from you, I have already rehearsed what my response would be. I know it sounds desperate, but desperate times call for desperate measures. I have played out so many scenarios in my mind, and not yet has a single one materialized. I would hate to just call all of this wishful thinking. I refuse to think that these are just pie-in-the-sky thoughts that will never amount to anything real. A part of me believes that if I continue to pour more energy into this, what I want will eventually be brought to fruition. You and I often spoke about the law of attraction. You should know that I have been trying very hard to implement the law of attraction into my life with the hope that you will return to me. The other day, I prayed to God for him to give me a sign. In Isaiah 60:22, it says, "When the time is right, I, THE LORD, will make it happen." I am willing to accept the fact that the time might not be right, but I would like comfort in knowing that what I want to happen will eventually happen. There is also a saying that goes something like this: "If your plans don't work out, it's because God has better plans." I honestly don't see how anything can be better than having you in my life. I want you. I don't want anyone else. I don't want to start over. I don't want to search the world for a new best friend when I know that my soulmate already exists. I am willing to fight. I will fight. I will fight with all of the strength I have in me until I hear you say you want out. For the time being, I will continue to fight for a future that includes both of us. I will never forget the one day you asked me to marry you. I told you I couldn't because of my circumstances. You told me you'd be right back, and when you returned, you mentioned that the reason why you stepped away is because you were crying. I am sorry I made you cry. I feel like such a fool. Please know that I regret not making you this promise. I regret it with all my being. If I could speak to you again, I will promise you that I will marry you. I will give you the best wedding you can imagine. I will give you the best life possible. I want to show you the world. I want to travel the globe with you. We can still go to Italy together and practice our Italian. We can still do everything we spoke about. I haven't forgotten anything. You have always prided yourself on how good your memory is. Let these reflections show you how I am latching onto these memories in a desperate effort to keep what we had alive. I love you so much. I still look at your picture and tell you I love you every day. I just wish you could hear me. I wish you knew how hard I am trying. I wish you knew how much I am hurting. My heart is in such pain without you in my life.

[rastronomicals]

9:46 PM EST December 22, 2023:

Paul McCartney & Wings - "Winter Rose (Instrumental0" From the bootleg   Sunny-Side Up - Back To The Egg Rehearsals

Last song scrobbled from iTunes at Last.fm

[dmchatsworthproject]

Diversity in Disability

What is meant by Diversity of Disabilities in Fashion?

Incorporation of cultural elements and designs into clothing and fashion that are adaptive and accessible to people with disabilities or special needs. Adaptive fashion aims to provide functional and stylish clothing for people with disabilities or mobility limitations, such as wheelchair users or people with prosthetic limbs and many more.

Diversity within the fashion industry appears to be on the rise, there is still a clear lack of representation for those with disabilities.There is a distinct discretion that surrounds disability.

Graham Pullin - "The priority for design for disability has traditionally been to enable while attracting as little attention as possible"

According to the World Health Organization, 15 percent of people have some kind of a disability, forming the world’s largest minority community. It’s also the only minority community that anyone can potentially become part of at any point in their life.

www.youtube.com. (n.d.). Tunisian women with disabilities strut the catwalk. [online] Available at: https://youtu.be/yQ63a2dDDSI [Accessed 22 Aug. 2023].

www.youtube.com. (n.d.). Designer to the stars dresses disabled catwalk in Milan. [online] Available at: https://youtu.be/ziWfgmCePwA [Accessed 22 Aug. 2023].

www.fashionrevolution.org. (n.d.). Building an inclusive fashion movement for people with disabilities : Fashion Revolution. [online] Available at: https://www.fashionrevolution.org/building-an-inclusive-fashion-movement-for-people-with-disabilities/.

New York Fashion Week

Models in wheelchairs and the world's first male amputee to hit the catwalk were among those taking to the runway at New York Fashion Week.

The FTL Moda's AW15 show, which featured international designers with a 'Made in Italy' theme, showcased models from all over the world alongside some of the industry's most esteemed clothes horses. Named FTL Moda Loving You, the show was held in collaboration with Fondazione Vertical - an Italian foundation supporting research to find a cure for spinal cord injuries. 

London, B. (2015). Disabled models take to catwalk in wheelchairs for NYFW. [online] Mail Online. Available at: https://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-2955283/Disabled-models-catwalk-wheelchairs-New-York-Fashion-Week-promotes-diversity.html.

Tokyo Fashion Week.

Wheelchair on the runway at Tokyo Fashion Week

Disabled model Ami Sano (L) goes down the catwalk with a male model during rehearsals before modeling on the runway at a fashion show for the "tenbo" brand, designed by Japanese designer Takafumi Tsuruta, during the Tokyo Fashion Week's 2015-16 autumn/winter collection in Tokyo.

He is the latest designer to celebrate disability at a major fashion week, after an actress with Down's Syndrome and a male amputee model graced runways this year in New York and Milan.

France-Presse, B.R.O., Agence (2015). Wheelchair on the runway at Tokyo Fashion Week. [online] GMA News Online. Available at: https://www.gmanetwork.com/news/lifestyle/content/456269/wheelchair-on-the-runway-at-tokyo-fashion-week/story/ [Accessed 9 Oct. 2023].

Robyn Lambird and Madeline Stuart – Aussie models with disabilities rocking the fashion world.

“We need to get to a point where including disabled models in advertising is standard”,

she says. She believes companies that pride them on diversity need to reflect that, through representing all types of people – including people with disabilities. Robyn believes representation in advertising will help increase disability’s cool factor.

The inclusion of disabled in advertising campaigns makes both models and the wider disability community feel valued and represented. “It’s important that our customers know we’re all about making people feel confident about themselves. Our uniqueness should be embraced”, Therese says.

Fox-Suliaman, J. (2020). 6 Models on Ableism, Visibility, and Personal Style. [online] Who What Wear UK. Available at: https://www.whowhatwear.co.uk/disabled-fashion-models/slide9 [Accessed 9 Oct. 2023].

[jazzruinedmylife-blog]

Tuesday 11/22/22

6:30 AM -- Up. Decent sleep. 

7:30 -- Walk w/Mick. Cold outside. Winter hat & gloves next time. 

9 -- Check out. Car seat still wet. Valet parked outside all night. Didn’t take down. Lid on McDonalds coffee cup not fastened by drive thru girl. Mick spilled everywhere previous night. 

9:30 -- On road. Mick at wheel. Switch outside Cleveland. Traffic heavier. Holiday travel? Stop at Chocolate & cheese place. Exit 223. Fabulous. Heavy set, young guy behind counter as we make selections. Mood immediately improved. Love place. Could spent entire day. 65 dollars on chocolate. Beef jerks sticks 9 bucks. 2 lollipops.

Sunny on road. Like summer day. Long delay after Batavia. Lost 45 minutes. Stop, go situation. Fire, smoke at Rochester Exit 47. 

4 PM -- Arrival home. 

6 -- Dinner. Chicken diablo. 

Dom texting w/Colorado Blue. 

8 -- Matt’s. jazz Mafia rehearsal. Vocal tune focus. 

11:30 -- Drive home. Schlem chat at midnight. Happy B’day. “Birthdays are the worst days...” 

[wmufranniefabray]

I'd be interested to know if our families or social circles have ever crossed before. Sebastian Smythe is a name I'd be inclined to remember but we've met so many different hoards of guests in my time that I could have forgotten. What was your upbringing like? You've mentioned the fires of the rich, upper class privilege so I'm going to make a guess that we may be able to compare notes on our childhoods. Your reaction to standards makes me a little suspicious that you, perhaps, don't share the same morals here? I've heard that the winter ball was a wild time. It makes me feel quite relieved I wasn't there, actually. We were conducting the most incredible experiment in the labs and time just...slipped away, it seemed. Which I am fully aware you are likely to now make fun of me for. Please, at least, inform me of what I missed during the Winter's Ball so I can feel included in the chaos in spirit.

Yikes, that's the worst kind of religious - no offence intended. You're lucky you're meeting 22 year old Frannie, rather than 16 year old Frannie, who would have tried to drag you to rehearse bible quotes with her for fun. Baby Frannie grew up quite quickly.

It makes sense considering I was forged in the fires of rich, upper class privilege that I might fit in there. Mostly international politics, you know. Maybe working at the UN or at one of the embassy's. National politics is...mess as hell. Granted I'm not gonna pretend I wouldn't take an internship at the white house or something. I suppose there is a way to look yourself in the mirror and see what's really there- as for being different. If it helps that most people feel that to a certain degree. Everyone has a certain upbringing that's entirely different some someone elses. They weren't my angry boyfriends- that was sort of the issue. It's more that "oh damn you bought back that guy who doesn't have a gag reflex back to your place and THIS is what happen? I'm shocked and pissed" My knees thank you for your sympathy. Oooh. Look at that, standards. I'm guessing you wouldn't have been kissing up a storm at the winter ball?

They're the "we go to church on christmas eve and use it to look down on people" sort of christians.

[aloramarieboutique]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Vintage 1960s Gala Forest 100% Wool Long Pea Coat Military Style Full Length.