#i love that it feels like some old tape that you found and shouldn't be watching

[sakuraspoke]

31 days of ghost // day 4 - favourite song from: infestissumam ⸸

He is divinity omniscient Seeing the world revolve with spite The surge of humanity oblivious To the divine whom bringeth light Let there be night Weave us a mist, fog weaver Hide us in shadows, fog weaver Come, mist eternal Come, mist eternal Come, secular haze

[saksukei]

five times you fell in love with ushijima wakatoshi.

masterlist | sorry this is really long. I just love him sm <3

01. that one day when he walked you home and stayed for dinner. your mother had told ushijima she had never found the neighborhood safe, so he made it a point to walk you back everyday after his practices.

you came upon a startling realization during this time. ushijima was definitely raised like a gentleman. he would never let you walk on the outer side of the sidewalk. anytime you were on the outer side, he'd take a step back and go around you. always.

“thank you for dropping me home, wakatoshi,” you told him. it was a routine for you to say this and for him to reply that you shouldn't thank him for this.

“i am thankful though. especially for you not letting me walk on the outer side,” you explain and ushijima feels like he's been caught off guard. he did do it unintentionally most of the time, yes, but he makes sure of it when he's with you. its also partly because you sometimes get so carried away telling him about your day, he worries you might accidentally stumble on the street and he can't have that.

“you read me well,” he admits, a chuckle escaping his lips.

“well it's because i'm just happy to be graced by the presence of the ace of shiratorizawa,” you joke.

“you think too highly of me, you know that?”

“i don't see why I shouldn't,” you retort. “do you want to come in for dinner?”

you assume he's going to refuse since he has to be home in an hour to study and do his homework. and you know better than anyone that he doesn't take a single day off, no matter what. be it hail, sleet, snow or a tornado, ushijima would never rest.

he takes a minute to think till he replies, “yeah sure.”

you mask your shock well, you open the door and let him in. and you can already feel the butterflies in your stomach. maybe you don't view him as a friend, but something more.

02. when you told him he was boring. it wasn't intentional, no. ushijima is fun but just not without planning out the fun? so when you tell him that you're gonna go out in the rain, he's definitely hesitant to join. you don't force him to join you which he's grateful for.

but when he sees the smile on your face, as raindrops trickle down, he thinks to hell with it. you're awestruck when he does join in, his eyes taped shut, as he lets himself feel each raindrop falling on his skin.

“toshi” you call out, only for his eyes to meet yours, slowly adjusting to the light. you laugh and he thinks he's never heard a better sound.

“i’ve never done this before.t I wouldn't have, if it wasn't for you,” he admits, letting his rigid body go lose.

“don’t go all soft on me big guy,” you retort, a grin on your face.

“i can't help it.”

and you can't help falling in love with him either.

03. when you spent an afternoon in his childhood bedroom. ushijima’s mother had invited the two of you for dinner, telling you to take a look at wakatoshi’s old room.

volleyball and manga posters were lined on the side of his wall, with some of his trophies and pictures with his best friend tendou.

“can’t believe i’m lucky enough to be here,” you joke, a playful smile tugging on your lips.

“can’t believe i’m lucky enough to bring you here,” he responds, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“although I think I should be jealous because from the looks of this bedroom, it feels like you've been dating tendou,” you pointed at the wide array of pictures of the two.

ushijima throws his head back in laughter, “i kept our pictures hidden from mom,” he replies. you knew his mother was a little critical of his choices as a teenager. “wait–” he opened his cupboard and started rummaging through the drawers only to pull out a shoebox.

“this has all of our pictures,” he hands the box to you. you open it, only to find ushijima saving up not only pictures, but movie tickets, little letters you wrote for him, the bracelets you made, the cute doodles you drew on his notebook perfectly cut off alongside birthday cards and a childhood photo that you gave him.

“i never knew you saved all of this stuff,” you whispered. you never took ushijima for the sentimental type, especially not the one to save what you referred to as your ‘romantic garbage.’

“of course I would,” he shrugs. “it might be garbage to you but it meant the world to me and it still does. I save stuff till this day,” he admits.

this man really does catch you off guard, doesn't he?

04. when you were having a difficult time. while he's a world renowned player that definitely has more than enough on his mind given the upcoming championship, all of that becomes irrelevant when he catches you with tears sliding down your face after coming home back early from his practice.

“t–toshi, you're home?” you whisper, quickly trying to wipe the tears of your face. but you've never been a good liar and ushijima can read you with his eyes closed.

“what’s wrong, love?” he asks, immediately cupping your face with his hands, wiping your tears. “is everything okay?”

the dam breaks and he just pulls you into his chest, letting you cry your heart out. he shushes any apologies you cry out. why were you so adamant on thinking that you were a burden to him? burdens are pushed on people against their will and he sure as hell isn't here against his.

and you think, how lucky you are to have wakatoshi around.

05. when you find him drenched from the rain. ushijima was returning from his latest championship and you had already warned him of the thunderstorm ready to rain down on Tokyo. you find him and his suitcase looking as if they've crossed a tsunami on the way to the apartment.

“toshi,” you quickly rush to find a towel to wrap around him. “what happened?” you ask. “did the cab not drop you directly here?”

he smiles sheepishly admitting that he had asked the cab to drop him off fifteen minutes away. when you ask why, he pulls out the flowers and cupcakes he brought from your favorite bakery.

“and I also brought your favorite manga,” he smiles. “i just missed you so much these two months.”

you feel tears well up in your eyes as you hug him, “i missed you too,” you whisper, buried in the crook of his neck. you pull away, “go change quickly now, we can't have our star player being sick. dinner is almost done.”

“i love you, darling,” he says before heading inside.

and just as you thought you couldn't fall in love with ushijima wakatoshi anymore, he manages to prove you wrong.

[aita-blorbos]

AITA for asking my husband to run over his girlfriend?

So I (F36) and my husband (M34) got into a car crash with our son (M10) about a year and a half ago. He was driving, he didn't see the car coming towards us, etc etc. Now, one of my clients (I'm a psychiatrist) gave me this tape of him documenting some findings in a really old book. I can't go into too much detail ofc because of doctor patient confidentiality, but in short, the gibberish on the tape turned out to be a soul transfer spell, and when that other car hit us, my soul went into our car and my body is declared dead.

Now, one and a half years later, the mechanic my husband took me to finishes the repairs, and on our way home, I see my husband talking to his ex-girlfriend (F34). They were an item in highschool, but apparently they rekindled that flame while I was gone.

Then I hear my son talking about his old girlfriend like she's some maternal figure to him, which, understandably, really pisses me off. He said it's nothing so I told him to go stop by her house and end that "nothing". But then he stays in there suspiciously long and I think to myself you know what? Nuh uh. I'm not about to take chances like that. I mean, he's my husband! He should've gotten over his new love the MOMENT he found out I wasn't dead, right??

And then she comes out after him, which is pretty convenient for me, so I started chasing her. He wasn't too happy about that ofc but he would've gotten over it. He got over me within a year.

So eventually I manage to hit her, right? Next thing I know I'm in the hospital being referred to with her name, so I know it worked. I ask what happened to the car with the other girl's soul in it and they tell me it's being scrapped. Sucks for her but good LORD she shouldn't have been a homewrecker!

However, my husband is now in jail for attempting a hit and run on some girl from Greenpeace earlier so now I'm wondering if I was the asshole here. I think I was justified, I just wanted my life back, but I feel a little guilty about getting my husband sent to jail.

AITA?

[sweetdreamsjeff]

Jeff Buckley: Sketches (For My Sweetheart The Drunk) (Columbia)

Jim Irvin, MOJO, June 1998

FANS OF Grace might find this album tough going. For one thing, it's hard to divorce the circumstances of its existence from the music – some of which is very beautiful, yet you know it wouldn't sound this way if Jeff Buckley had lived. In other words, you're listening to this record because he died.

Secondly, there are several moments that seem too private, things we probably shouldn't be hearing. At these times you might experience the same uneasy fascination you'd get from illicitly reading someone's diary. You might also find yourself distracted by questions like, "Who chose this running order?", "Why are there two versions of two songs with nothing much to choose between them?" or "Was this song finished?"

We'll never know if Jeff Buckley wanted anybody to hear the ugly clutter of ‘Haven't You Heard’, we can be certain he had more in mind for the complex ‘Murder Suicide Meteor Slave’ than the detuned, trebly mush it is here and we can only wonder at how its lovely Beatle-ish interlude would have turned out. Did he lay down the home-made cover of ‘Back In New York City’ (a Genesis song from The Lamb Lies Down On Broadway) with a view to putting it on record or simply for his own amusement, something to get the creative juices flowing? Is there any real value in hearing tracks as nascent as ‘Demon John’ or ‘Your Flesh Is So Nice’ – barely written songs, with arrangements just hinted at by slapdash guitars and extemporised melodies you know he'd have nailed later or abandoned completely? Is it right to include performances where his singing is unfocused, lazy or tired? Or those where the band are just feeling their way?

As I understand it, from talking to his management shortly after his death, Jeff Buckley's unreleased legacy runs thus: the remainder of the Live At Sin-E recordings; radio sessions and solo spots such as those on the French ‘Live At The Bataclan’ EP (which he hated); one outtake from Grace, ‘Forget Her’ (removed to make room for ‘So Real’); the "live in the studio" solo sets recorded during the making of Grace; a series of 24-track live recordings with the full band (some of these, like the extended version of Alex Chilton's ‘Kanga-Roo’, have appeared on B-sides and promo discs); the sessions recorded with Tom Verlaine in Memphis a few months before his death; a few tracks recorded in New York soon afterwards; and a large number of 4-track demos Buckley cut in the last weeks of his life.

After he drowned, the inevitable question of what to do with this material had to be faced. Manager Dave Lory spent days going through the tapes found in Jeff's house. He had to listen to everything, no matter what it said on the box, as Jeff had a habit of cutting demos on whatever came to hand. Sure enough, he found one new song halfway through side two of an old Michael Bolton promo cassette.

He then met up with Steve Berkowitz (Jeff's A&R man) and Andy Wallace (the producer of Grace), to make a definitive inventory of all the extant recordings and dub the demos onto digital masters. These were three of the men who knew Jeff's working methods best and they argued every day about what might be done with this stuff, which songs Jeff would have been happy with, how best to release the material or, indeed, if any of it should come out at all.

Just as they were finishing this process, they were 'fired' by Jeff's mother, Mary Guibert, who'd inherited her son's estate and assumed the responsibility of compiling an album with another Columbia A&R executive, Don DeVito, (who'd not worked extensively with Buckley while he was alive). They asked Buckley's friend, Chris Cornell of Soundgarden, to "sit in Jeff's seat". Andy Wallace was rehired to complete his mixes of the Verlaine sessions which make up Disc 1 of this collection.

When Buckley completed those tracks he told Lory that he "couldn't find his soul" in them. He was aware there was a lot of work still to do before he could cut a worthy follow-up to Grace, so he temporarily dismissed his band and retreated to his rented house in Memphis to revise the songs and write new ones. (Some of these, ‘Mood Swing Whiskey’, ‘Sky Blue Skin’, ‘Don't Listen To Anyone But Me’, ‘Woke Up In A Strange Place’ and ‘Let's Bomb The Moonlight’ remain in the can.) Disc 2 features seven of those demos, retakes of two of the songs on Disc 1, some CD-ROM material (which was not available for review) and a stray radio recording from 1992 of the country standard ‘Satisfied Mind’ ("I went with a satisfied mind"), clearly chosen as a pointed closer.

Diametrically opposed to it, Disc 1's opener, ‘The Sky Is A Landfill’, is a bleak, relentless torrent of anger. As "evil blacks the sky" Buckley advises that we "Don't suck the milk of flaccid Bill K Public's empty promise to the people". "This way of life is so devised to snuff out the mind that moves," he continues, moved to send a mail bomb to "Mr Strong Arm", who is "useless like the cops at the scene of a crime" Although impressive, it's a curious track to open with, throwing a grim shadow over what follows. It takes a few listens, then, but gradually Sketches' pearls begin to shine through.

‘Vancouver’ kicks off with a Byrdsian riff and a beautiful double-tracked falsetto, spinning into a dizzy song driven by piano, fuzz bass and crashing guitars. ‘Nightmares By The Sea’ is great, too. After an intro reminiscent of Nirvana's ‘Come As You Are’, it turns into a churning pop song – and check the lyrics: "Stay with me under these waves tonight/Be free for once in your life tonight! Bluebeard's young and handsome/So new to your bedroom floor/You know damn well where you're gone." Likewise, the a cappella ‘You And I’ (again, a song whose melody was not fully developed) starts with the line "Oh, the calm below that poisoned river wild". It can't be too long before someone ekes out a morbid dissertation concerning the water imagery in these songs.

However, it's the second track that will be this collection's calling card. ‘Everybody Here Wants You’ draws from the same divine well as ‘Lover, You Should've Come Over’ on Grace. It's a lump-in-the-throat soul ballad which sways like Smokey Robinson's ‘Cruisin'’ or Chic's ‘At Last I Am Free’. Jeff sings it in a tender falsetto with a hint of jealous ire shading the delicious, pleading chorus – "Everybody here wants you! Everybody here thinks he needs you/I'll be waiting right here just to show you our love will blow it all away" – as the bass tumbles along lyrically. Awkward middle-four aside, it's an instant classic. And it serves to make the lesser tracks here an even greater source of sadness, simultaneously reminding us that this wonderful voice has sung its last.

There's a lot of fine material still unheard and we must hope its trustees are careful with it. One thing's sure: a definitive selection will never exist, except in our heads and, one day perhaps, on our personal 'Ultimate Jeff' compilations.

At best, Sketches has much the same function and effect as The Beatles Anthology collections. It's a document of a great musical mind cranking into gear, a series of clues to what might have been. If you were hoping for a record to equal Grace, well, you'll be disappointed. But be assured that Jeff Buckley's sketches overshadow most artists' completed works.

[final-girl96]

Firefly Chapter Forty-Nine

Joel's pov

Joel sat in the town's workshop, his boots sitting on the bench. They were falling apart, the duct tape he put around them was barely holding them together and the soles were so thin he could feel the terrain against the soles Of his feet. Every rock, stick, sharp jagged object they walked across he felt it.

His emotions were just like his boots. Held together by duct tape and barely holding on. He was relieved he found his brother, he was happy that Tommy was alright and safe. The new information about him Being married to a woman; a woman that most definitely hates him for that fact, was shocking. He was happy for him, but that to Joel…to Joel that meant Tommy wouldn't need him anymore. There was no way Maria would let him stay here. The news about Tommy becoming A father hit harder though. He had no doubt in his mind that Tommy would be an amazing father.

But being with Ellie and yn, Joel started to feel a little more like his old self. Ellie was a huge pain in his ass, but she was starting to become more than a package that he had to deliver. He grew to care for the girl. It has been so long since he's had a child in his presence. After Sarah, he didn't care for children much. He can't say he pictured having a family with yn because he has. It was just a picture of a time when Cordyceps never happened and Sarah was still alive. Yn would have finished college, dated guys her own age, and maybe then down the road when she was older, they could have been something more than just neighbors.

Their age gap has always bothered him. He kept it in the back of his mind though because he was in love with her, is in love with her. That doesn't matter though, she's not safe with him. Ellie isn't safe with him. Tommy would be able to get Ellie to where she needed to go and yn would be safer here. She could be happy here, and find someone closer to her age. Someone who could give her everything she deserves.

The bell over the door rang and Tommy walked in. “The guys said I might find you here,” he said, shutting the door behind him. “Figured I'd save you the trouble.” He sat down a pair of boots for Joel. Joel went and sat down on a stool and slowly started to put them on. “I shouldn't have said what I said,” Joel told him. “I don't even believe it. I know you're happy for me. It just... It's complicated for you... and I'm sorry. So you gonna let me off the hook, or what?”

“This ride to the University, is it a suicide mission?” Joel asked. “No. It's dangerous, but it's nothin' you can't handle. Just prepare and do what you do,” Tommy said. Joel finished putting his boots 9n and looked up at him. “You've had people go that way and come back?” He asked. He wanted to make sure it was going to be safe before he dropped a bomb on Tommy. “All of 'em. What is this?”

“She's immune.” Tommy pulled his eyebrows together in confusion. “What?” He asked. “Ellie. She got infected, but she didn't get sick. Tommy. Tommy, I saw her get bit myself. That was months ago. Months. She's immune. From the beginning. It was Marlene. She hired us to help yn smuggle her to some Fireflies. It went bad. Tess got bit. She made me swear to take the kid and go with yn. It was her dyin' wish. What the hell was I supposed to do?” Tommy didn't know what to say, so he stayed silent and listened to Joel, who's eyes were getting glossy.

“We went through Pittsburg and made it as far as Kansas City then... You know, she saved my life and yn's there... from another kid. Five years ago, I would've destroyed him. But she had to shoot him to save us. Fourteen years old. Because I was too slow and too fսckin' deaf to hear him comin' and get to yn before the other guy Got to her. And I saw... I saw a man kill his own brother... to save her, while I just watched. And today, I thought that dog was gonna tear her apart because it smelled somethin' on her. And all I did was stand there.”

He took a pause, hanging his head, and trying to swallow the lump in his throat. “I couldn't... move. I couldn't think of anything to say. I just... I was so afraid. You think I can still handle things, but... I'm not who I was. I'm weak. Lately, there are these moments where the fear comes up outta nowhere, and... my heart... feels like it's stopped. And I have dreams. Every night.”

“What kinda dreams?” Tommy asked. “I don't know. I can't remember. I just know that when I wake up... I've lost somethin'.” Joel let the tears go; let them slide down his cheeks. “I'm failin' in my sleep. That's all I do. It's all I've ever done is fail her again and again. I failed yn, too. Me coming back to her being gone repeats in my head over and over. I was too protective. I didn't spend time with her like she wanted because I was too busy off with Tess smuggling shit in and out of the QZ. I got her back but I've been failing her again.”

Tommy was silent for a while, thinking everything through. “You want me to take her.” Joel looked at him with a look of defeat. “I'm just gonna get her killed. I want yn to stay here where she's safe. She can have a life here, find someone her own age, someone who can take care of her and male her happy. I know it. I have to leave them.” He didn't want to but he knows he has to. Yn meant everything to him and Ellie had wormed her way into his heart. He wanted nothing more than for them to be with him but he couldn't do that. He wouldn't let himself do that.

“Joel…” Tommy was cut off before he could even respond. “I mean, it's why you took off on me, right? To make up for the things we did? Well, here's your chance to bring your kid into a better world. You're younger than me. You're still strong. You said it yourself, you'll come back. You have to take her. You have to make sure yn stays here where she's safest and will get what she deserves.happiness.And you can't tell anyone, not even Maria. Tommy, you're the only one I trust. If anyone else sees those bites on her, what's under her skin... they'll shoot her. It's the last thing I'll ever ask of you. I swear.” Tommy didn't say anything for a few long minutes. He thought it over. He knew yn would never agree to this. He knew he wouldn't be able to male her stay here, especially if Joel left. “I'll take her out at dawn. We got you in 38. It's left, left, right.”

[ein-liebloser-wanderer]

Lovesickness

(My rewrite of Lovesick Dead. The original work was written and illustrated by Junji Ito. I'm not claiming anything from my writing to be an original idea.)

Category: M/M Love Interest: The Crossroad's Pretty Boy Warning: blood and gore, mention of suicide, non canon-compliant, slow burn, no proofreading we all must suffer like Junji Ito's protagonists Word: 750+

Legend said that the first person to pass by you at a crossroads could tell you your fortune.

The first I heard of it, I was so young, but even then, I didn't believe it as anything more than a fictitious tale believed to be true. A housewives’ tale, if you will.

Some might wonder then why an ardent disbeliever such as myself, suddenly believes in it.

I'll tell you why.

Right from the very beginning down to its macabre end.

⸸

I don't have many memories of my past. But the ones I do remember, they lingered in my mind like fog on a dreary day.

And a dreary day that was.

"Little boy."

I stopped dead in my tracks when I heard her. It was a voice so rasp, I thought I had mistaken the rustling of leaves in the wind for the whisper of a ghost. But when I finally saw her peeking from behind the corner, I began to wonder then if she really was a ghost.

"Little boy, would you be so kind as to tell me my fortune?"

Terrified, I could only stand still as she walked closer. This near, she easily loomed over me, but she was no tall person by any means. Rather, it was her presence. There must have been a sickness to her to make her sallow skin such an unearthly shade of brown. I looked down if only to avoid her feverish gaze, but that only subjected me to seeing her bulging belly. It looked so grotesquely swollen on her emaciated body as it stretched the fabric of her white dress thin.

I remember taking a step back in horror. Though it is a blur in my memory now, I swear I remember there being green and silver lines marbling her skin.

"As you can see, I am with a child." By dint of showing, she ran a hand down her tummy. "I love the father so much. So, so much. I would die for him. I would hurt for him. There is nothing in this world I wouldn't do to prove my love. But..."

"There is another woman. And her child. But I don't believe he loves them for even a second! Otherwise, why would he have done such a thing to me? Come look! Feel!"

That was when she grabbed my wrist and placed my palm on her belly with a force that shouldn't be natural from a woman so frail like her.

"You can feel it, can't you? The proof of his love? You can feel our child within me, yes?"

I kicked and struggled to get her hand off me. But her bone-thin fingers only clenched harder, deeper into the flesh of my wrist. I cried out; "What are you even talking about?"

Genuinely, I was confused. Being the little child that I was, I understood nothing she spoke of. A child? With what might have been a married man?

But more than confused, I was frightened—no, deeply terrified of the woman with the swollen belly and vice-like grip.

"Then, let me make it much simpler for you, boy. Will he and I live happily ever after...or not?"

Before I write my answer, I must explain first that it was said in the spur of the moment. Had I been older, more experienced, more compassionate about this woman's deteriorated mind and the precarious situation she found herself in, I would have done my best to prevent the tragedies that would follow after.

But as it was, I was only a six-year-old boy, confused and afraid. By now, I had accepted that I couldn’t possibly have the answer to such a heavily loaded question.

"No!”

With all my might, I was able to free myself of her hold. Still, I continued to snarl even though I could see the first cracks in the dam holding her up.

“Are you stupid? No one would love a crazy woman like you! No one!"

And just like that, I ran away, never bothering to look back.

The very next day, I came back to find police officers. Yellow tape that read ‘DO NOT CROSS’ closed off the area of the crossroad where I last saw her, in the same white dress. Except now, it was stained red from the blood that gushed out of her slit throat.

The perpetrator?

Only herself and her little box cutter.

⸸

From that moment on, something was born.

An entity that knows no love, rejects it even, yet craves it as though starved.

I sometimes wonder if there was a chance I could have met him earlier. By the time he had let himself be known, it was years after I returned.

It was almost as if he had been waiting for me.

~ ~ ~ End ~ ~ ~

This is the first part of my Lovesickness fanfic. New year, new me, and that includes the many prompts I want to write.

So, uhm...Happy belated new years!

[a-symphony-of-sorrow]

(Starry lies in the makeshift nest he'd constructed the previous day, blinking in the sunlight that peeked through the window. They'd just woken up from a long, nearly dreamless sleep, though hy didn't feel any more relaxed than stell'd been yesterday. Star just doesn't feel as... restless. He did something. They found something small hy'd been able to do, stell'd managed to convince starself he was helping in some way. Maybe they had, hy doesn't know. Stell just knows he feels... better. Still worried, but... they'll just find something else. Something small to help with.

Groceries. Hy'd get their Uncle Hidgens groceries, instead of wondering if the old man would ever come home. He wasn't going to be able to go out looking like a giant cat monster, but they knew it wouldn't be too hard to hide that. Hy drags stellarself out of stars next, already missing the warmth and the comfort, grabs a scrap piece of paper, pen, and tape, and hastily scrawls out a note so his uncle wouldn't worry.)

Going to get groceries. Be back before 6 PM.

(They pause, thinking for a moment, before hy quickly writes down an addition.)

If I'm not back by then and I don't contact you, something happened to me and I-

(Stell's hand stops. For a few moments, star finds himself hesitating. They wonder if finishing hymns sentence would really be necessary, if stell really... matters enough to ask for help. Star's a cosmic horror, he shouldn't need to rely on someone else, they...

But Pokey did. Pokey needed hymns help a lot lately, actually. And she'd been a god for much longer than stell did. So then... maybe star might be allowed to ask, too.)

-might need your help.

Call me if you need anything. I love you.

- Sincerely,

Sta Neptune.

[vamp-hollow]

Maybe do an Eddie x Black FTM reader? Maybe they are at a party ad confess their feelings for each other, Just a bunch of fluff!

THIS COULDNT HAVE COME AT A MORE PERFECT TIME.

Red Solos n Snuggles

Eddie Munson x Black! Ftm Reader

A/N: HALF OFNTHIS WAS WRITTEN BEFORE I WATCH VOL2 AND AFTER

Cw: vomiting,unsafe binding

“Eddie? ”

Your words snapped him out of his daydream. He was gripping the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles turning white from the pressure

“Oh [Name] sweet, sweet [Name]” Eddie leaned over, his signature cynical smile plastering his face

“Have I ever backed down from a challenge? Huh, Big boy?” He tilted his head to the side, awaiting your response

Eddie always called you pet names and he knew you loved it, hell he knew you loved it. Whenever you would get flustered your eyes would get wide and your breath shakey, it was his favorite reaction

“I-i guess not”

“Exaaaaaactly, so! We're gonna get in there, get shitfaced, annnd maybe cause a little mischief, who knows?” He giggled at his own words, locking the car and opening the heavy door for you

“Wait, Shouldn't you be babysitting Dustin?”

“Shouldn't you be not wearing that compression thing from hell?” Eddie responded.

Damn he got you there.

In an attempt to try and flatten your chest you did a hodgepodge of bandages tape and stitching to create some sort of compression top. It felt like hell and hurt like a bitch but you weren't gonna be there long so, it didn't matter, right?

Well, it did matter when you were 30 minutes into the party with no sign of Eddie. You prayed that he just ran off to get away and was not sitting in the corner somewhere surrounded by solo cups. He was the only one who could drive that rickety old van. When you tried it almost ended you both and the car in a ditch. You decided to gulp down the rest of whatever they had put out and stumble up the stairs on the hunt for him. You knew Eddie all too well so you had a rough idea of some hiding places he might be.

Crawling up the stairs felt like scaling a mountain. With each breath you took a sharp pain entered your chest. But you kept crawling eventually making it to the second floor. The pain was unbearable and you crawled into the nearest bedroom. Sprawling out on their bed, gasping for air. In your panic, you could hear loud thumping getting closer and closer until the door flung open and there he was. Eddie Munson, half sober.

“Oh my god oh my god [name]! [ Name]! are you ok? Can you hear me? [NAME]!” Eddie grabbed your shoulders tightly, shaking you. Although your vision was blurred and shakey, you could see eddies glossed over brown eyes, his tears fell back into your face, dripping into your nose bridge

“Mnhn? Imm fiinehn..” you swatted eddies face away with not much effort. You could hear Eddie clanging around for something once he found it. A cold metal shook through your body, causing you to shiver

Eddie was cutting off the makeshift binder, being careful not to accidentally nick you

Once he got it off, we went to go hug you but you turned on your side, not wanting to look at Eddie

“Cmon, [name we need to get you ho-] but before Eddie could finish his sentence, your body began to lurch forward. You were gonna hurl all over this poor girl's bed. But Eddie was quicker, he scooped you into his arms, and with a little struggle, he managed to get you to a bathroom that wasn't occupied by horny teenagers. You slung yourself over the toilet and began throwing up everything you drank at that party, you had gotten stomach acid all over your hair

“E..eddie my hair” you mumbled, continuing to throw up

“Er, are you sure? I don't wanna mess up any-

“JUST DO IT”

“Ok! Ok! Jeez” With a sift motion Eddie clumped all of your coils up into a fistful, being careful not to squeeze TOO hard

Once you were gone you sat there for a moment, Eddie got a paper towel and began wiping your face.

He had looked at you in a way that he never did before, he had a bright twinkle in his eye, he didn't even have to say anything and you could read his mind. He was ethereal he was-

“[Name]? Are…are you crying” he spike softly,

“Ugh uhm n-no I im not i….” You couldn't hold it anymore and you burst into tears, burying yourself into his shoulder, holding him for dear life. All Eddie could do was comfort you. rubbing your back while whispering affirmations

“J-just look at me, Eddie.. I'm a fucking mess that's what I am…I don't even know why you—you deserve a better friend Eddie, someone who not such a disa-

“Stop.”

You looked up at Eddie, your puffy eyes meeting his, he was also crying. You were so confused, why was he upset?

“Stop saying that about yourself [name] you're wonderful. You were someone who believed in me, who...WANTED to be friends with me even when I was an ance ridden freshie with bad hair” you both giggled in unison, Eddie pulled you closer.

“My point is [Name], You…are a highlight in my life. You've always seen me for who I was and not what others wanted me to be, and that…” Eddie cupped your face in his hands, your noses grazing each other only by inches

“I wouldn't change that for the world.”

“Eddie i-“

He pulled you into a kiss holding your face, and you returned the favor, you kissed him back with so much passion, so much heart your breaths were synchronized as he held your face closer, trying to invite his tongue into your mouth, which you accepted, his tongue felt like heaven, the way they molded together like a perfect puzzle piece, saliva dripping down both of your lips. He pulled away for breath pushing his hair out of the way

“Eddie you-“

“I-im sorry that was stupid wasn't it?” He mumbled looking away from you, his hands sliding off of you and back by his sides.

“Ed no i-“

“If you don't wanna talk about it we can-“

“EDDIE!”

He looked up at you, quite startled by you raising your voice

“Will you let me finish my sentences?” You said through giggled, Eddie immediately untensed up, giggling along with you

“ what did I scare you? Him scardey pants?”

“N-no” He looked away trying to hide his embarrassment with his hair, it was quiet for a moment before he grabbed you by your waist holding you in his lap and tickling your sides

“TICKLE FIGHT” he screamed

“EDDIE NO- HAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHA” you bellowed, you could barely catch a breath as he tickled you. Laying you into the tub before getting on top of you, putting his head into the crook of your neck

“Mnnh..you smell good” he mumbled, holding your hand tightly, planting soft kisses on it

“Why thank you, Eddie, it's called cocoa butter,” you said proudly, you loved when people complimented your scent.

“Like…cooking butter?” Eddie asked, you forgot he was white as paper, it was kinda cute.

“God Munson you're an idiot”

You two giggled and giggled in that tub till dawn, you stayed in that tub in each other's arms for hours and hours. You never wanted to leave.

This was the start of something beautiful.

[dxntloseurhead]

some excerpts from yaz’s article in british vogue

[ID: Multiple screenshots from an article about actress Yasmin Finney. The screenshots read, “A dream for any young actor, not least one with a single screen credit, the role will turn the teen into a household name - and is set to reshape the TV landscape in the process. I mean, how many young trans actors can you name in long-running prime-time BBC dramas, not to mention a series as quintessentially middle England as Doctor Who? "It will change the world," she says knowingly, eyes sparkling over high cheekbones. As Finney sips from a technicolour slushie in Inflata Nation's café, candy-cane halterneck and bubblegum trackies matching the pink-and-purple seats, it's unclear if she knows how much her life will change too.

Finney has always felt a call to represent. It was on TikTok - where she currentlv has 1.8 million followers and counting - that she found her first audience creating videos about the trans experience, the most viral on a crush's reaction on learning. ("It's so sad dating as a trans person, because you've gotta explain yourself to people, like, 'Oh, hey, look, I hope you don't mind. and then prepare for answers that shouldn't be the case.")

Those calls got louder. A lip-sync to a quote from the show Pose - in which house mother Elektra snaps back at a transphobe without taking a breath - caught the eye of actor Billy Porter's team, who asked her to send a self-tape for the lead role in his directorial debut. Around the same time, she auditioned for Heartstopper. News that she got both roles arrived a day apart (although, the pandemic would prevent the Porter project from happening). "I went from nothing to having a feature film and a Netflix series" she says, still in disbelief.

Finney auditioned for Doctor Who before Heartstopper came out. Director Euros Lyn alerted Davies to the talent coming his way. "When you get into the casting room," Davies writes over email, "there's only one question: can you act? And that's where she stole the show. She was immediately right. My greatest worry was whether 57 other shows would snap her up instead." Watching Finney since has been "an education", he adds, "to see someone commanding such attention - and let's face it, such enmity - with grace and wit and a wonderful smile".

Raised Catholic alongside her half-sister by a Jamaican mother (she's never met her Irish Italian father), her earlv life was coloured by poverty and bullies - at 11, she was living from hotel to hotel while facing tormentors at school. "Being a Black trans woman, I've been forced to grow up early," she says, softly.

As we speed through the city now in a taxi, though, she excitedly points out her primary school, her nana's home, the council house she shared with her mum... until today. After our meal, she will be moving into her first apartment on Canal Street, Manchester's "gay village", where she'll throw her first-ever birthday celebrations with the chosen family she created there. "Now I get to give myself the childhood fantasy, and raise myself up the way that I should have been raised."

At first, Finney wasn't aware of any labels categorising gender or sexuality. She just knew she wanted to wear the Topshop coat all the cool girls had. As an eight-year-old, she ran around the house in a pink tutu her nana gave her. "She saw me from a young age," she says, smiling. "I would search up 'femininity' and Why do I feel like a girl?" she recollects, pausing to pick at peri-peri chips on a restaurant terrace. "I remember searching, 'Why do I have a penis?'" At a recent picture of Finney in the ocean, her mother almost cried, remembering how she hated to swim as a child. "You just never wanted to get changed with the boys," she repeats. "Now it all makes sense."

At school, she'd change alone in disabled toilets (towel-whipped the times she braved the boys) until one day, the girls snuck Finney into the changing room for PE. "They loved it. For them, I was their gay accessory," she recalls. "They loved me because I was overcompensating. I was overly feminine. I was making them laugh." But, when word got to the headteacher, "It all went tits up." On the brink of expulsion, her family asked, where could she get changed? Eventually, unisex toilets were installed. Yaz happily used what unofficially became "the girl's side".

Experimenting with make-up by year 11, her GCSEs marked a turning point. Late to arrive, she walked in wearing a skirt. Steps echoed through the silent room as all eyes followed her to her seat. The football players who would trip her up and shove her in hallways, call her names and do limp-wristed impressions were "gooped, gagged and everything in-between" she recounts. "From that moment, I felt so empowered. I never looked back."

Finney is bouncy and dramatic, comfortable taking the lead and prone to slip into the accented dialect of queer Americana. She's perhaps most visibly alive recalling praise. Rather than pure ego (although, justifiably, there is a little gloating) there's a sense it provides an amour she had to go without as a vulnerable child. "All the people that doubted me, they've got nothing on me anymore, you know? Not that I did it for them," she says of stepping into the spotlight. "But it's like the cherry on top," she smiles. "| just like to know that people are realising that everything I did from a young age, I wasn't in the wrong. Everything I did was perfectly fine." /end ID]

[acetrainermags]

Pokémon Adventures: A Childhood Obsession

In 2006, I received a consolation birthday present of a GameBoy Advance, the flat kind that didn't have backlight and was powered by AA batteries. My brother had just been given a GameBoy Advance SP and a brand-new game based on the animated film Cars for his birthday. My parents, in their infinite wisdom, knew I shouldn't be left out of the fun. Thus, I was given a hand-me-down GameBoy Advance with a used copy of Pokémon Sapphire.

A GameBoy Advance very similar to the one I grew up with. (Image via Wikimedia Commons)

Sometimes, I wonder if my parents regretted it.

You see, that gift - which was likely an afterthought, let's be real - kicked off what would become a years-long obsession with Pokémon. I had no idea what I was getting into when I turned that game on for the first time, but I eagerly selected my first Pokémon (a Mudkip I naturally nicknamed "ABBY" as any young girl ought to do) and began my adventure.

Unfortunately, my copy of Pokémon Sapphire has since been lost to time, but Pokémon remained a formative part of my childhood. I loved battling my neighborhood friends, comparing trading cards, and huddling around the TV to watch the latest VHS tape I'd picked up from the library.

Another thing you should know about me is that when I enjoy something, I'm all in. Pokémon was not an exception: I devoured every bit of media and lore I could find. I entertained myself by reading pages on Bulbapedia and Serebii, two of the best reference websites for the franchise.

This was how I was introduced to the franchise's manga adaptation, Pokémon Adventures. The series, also known as Pokémon Special or "PokéSpe" for short, only had a few volumes available in the United States at the time. Still, I devoured every bit of information I could about the story and its expansive cast of characters. I'd always been a voracious reader, and when you combined that with my favorite video games, Pokémon Adventures seemed perfect or me.

But like I said, at the time there were only a handful of volumes available in the United States, where I lived. The ones that were available were nearly impossible to find in your typical Barnes & Noble. So I did what any other self-respecting Child of the Internet would do in the late 2000s: I found an alternative. And that's all I'll say about that.

A few years later, U.S. publisher Viz Media finally decided to start bringing the rest of the series stateside. With the limited cash that an unemployed 12-year-old had, I stared my own collection. This included one volume (vol. 14) purchased from a "going out of business" sale at a Borders bookstore and another (vol. 7) from the gift shop in the Japan area of Disney World's Epcot. Why I remember this, I have no idea.

The two Pokémon Adventures volumes I've owned the longest. They're a little worse for wear, but I treasure them.

Now I'm an adult... in a loose sense of the word. Pokémon still remains one of my favorite interests, and it remained a great way to connect with others. I met some of my favorite people in college through a Pokémon Go group chat, where we would alert each other when rare creatures spawned on campus (shout out to GoCast, you know who you are).

My manga collection has also grown. I was finally able to collect all of my favorite volumes from my childhood, up through the "sixth chapter" or story arc of the series (vol. 29). I take one off the shelf to read occasionally, especially when I need a "comfort read" to make myself feel better. However, I haven't read the series chronologically since my childhood.

I decided to change that this year. I mean, I've already got all of the books, so why not?

That leads us to this blog. After spending four years as an English major in college, I picked up the habit of marking up my books. I know, I know. Such scandal. Unfortunately, manga and graphic novels don't really lend themselves to this process. I just can't bring myself to mark up the beautiful artwork with my terrible handwriting.

But I still wanted to engage with this story like I would any other. Originally, I just planned to share my occasional observation or joke on Twitter, like I did when I read Fullmetal Alchemist in 2020. However, the more I read, the more I realized I had a lot to say about Pokémon Adventures.

It's easy to be cynical and say that the Pokémon Adventures manga is just another cog in the marketing machine with a singular goal in mind: to get people to buy Pokémon games and merchandise. While that is probably true at some level, I find that Pokémon Adventures goes beyond that by having complex characters, engaging plotlines, and clever ways of integrating existing Pokémon lore into a different medium. The series creators - writer Hidenori Kusaka and artists Mato (vol. 1-9) and Satoshi Yamamoto (vol. 10 onward) - aren't just concerned with promoting the Pokémon franchise, they also want to tell a good story.

Satoshi Yamamoto (left) and Hidenori Kusaka (right), the current artist and writer behind the Pokémon Adventures manga. Image via Bulbapedia.

I'm not sure where this reading journey will take me. At first, I thought about writing a post about every single chapter as I read it. Then I realized I would be writing at least 300 posts just to get through my personal collection. Then I wanted to write about each volume, but Tumblr only allows 10 images per post, and that's not enough for me.

All this to say, I'll be posting about the chapters in chunks, with a wrap-up after each volume and story arc and the occasional "extra" post if I want to write more in-depth about something in particular.

Some things will be lighthearted, like a bizarre reference to Tom Sawyer in vol. 1, implying that Mark Twain exists in the Pokémon universe. Others will be more serious and analytical. For example, I can't wait to talk about the character of Giovanni, arguably one of the most recognizable villains in the Pokémon franchise.

In any case, it will be an adventure (see what I did there?), and I'm delighted to take you along with me. Our journey starts at the beginning, with a boy named Red in a place called Pallet Town.

[n5md]

Cloudwalker

In our newly relaunched "Learn more about..." interviews, we switch up the continuity slightly and focus on just one release: Gimmik's Cloudwalker. Martin kindly agreed to answer a few questions to kick off what we'll refer to as v2 of the "Learn More About..." blog.

While Entre Les Chambres was the actual return of Gimmik to the public eye, Cloudwalker is more of a return to form. It is undeniably Gimmik; however, Cloudwalker treads some new ground for you. Can you shed some light on how the creative process changed from Entre Les Chambres / Deux Nouvelles and how those two albums might have influenced Cloudwalker?

Very well observed - they did influence Cloudwalker! Entre Les Chambres and Deux Nouvelles were both produced under technically limited circumstances. On top of that, I thought that no one will ever hear this material. Luckily it was not the case, and I got the chance to become a member of the n5MD family. When you produce with the idea that the material will never get released, it gives you a lot of room and space. You are not concerned about expectations. The music can flow and evolve freely. The calm nature of those albums helped that process. It was research where I experienced myself more as a witness than a composer. For me, that is a new approach. This approach was still the same when I produced Cloudwalker. That is the reason why the tracks are so diverse. Short Wave Memories and In My Family do not have anything in common, but that is the way they evolved, without me constructing anything. The most significant difference is that Cloudwalker was produced in a proper studio environment. Plus, I took a step into eurorack, which brings a very unpredictable element. And yes, that is Mutable Elements "Rings'' what you hear on In My Family. I was working on a self-generative patch with "Marbles'' when all of a sudden, the melody appeared...

I think you sent me In My Family shortly after you finished it, and it was one of the darkest days of the early pandemic; where our local government-issued curfews and such. It was the track that I needed at that moment; it brightened my day. It's very cool that the melody was a generative experiment gone right. I seem to remember you have quite a bit of the Mutable Instruments modules. Modular, to me, seems like a bit of a wormhole of experimentation. So, how do you stay focused when experimenting with new sounds and textures to bring, say, one of your Modular Nature tracks, which you have on your Youtube channel, to life.

Working with a modular system is entirely different. My approach is always a question. What will happen if I connect this with that and modulate with this? Then you start patching, and the results are entirely different from what I expected - a lot more exciting and better! In the beginning, I thought modular was about rebuilding synth voices. So I started emulating the signal-flow path of a 101 for a start. I missed the whole point of modular... A system has a life of its own and takes you to completely different places, and sometimes I do not even understand the results. (-: But that is not important. The decision to work with modular is to avoid walking down paths I have taken too many times when composing. What keeps you focused is your ear. The trick is to learn when to stop. In the beginning, I lost a lot of great patches when the result was already at 90%. When trying to reach 100%, my tweaks destroyed that patch's beauty, and I never found a way back to 90%. That happened a lot of times in the beginning. A modular system really helps to learn when to let go… (laughing). I chose Mutable Instruments because those modules are very focused on musical and harmonic results.

So, going back to Cloudwalker, how did it feel getting back to basics as far as Gimmik goes. People may not know that Entre Les Chambres and Deux Nouvelles were made for very personal listening. Care to shed a little light on those two, and more importantly, what made you want to go past those themes and bring Gimmik full circle for Cloudwalker?

Entre Les Chambres and Deux Nouvelles were NOT a conscious decision. Those were a necessity! The title Entre Les Chambres means "between two rooms", the space that is between two rooms. That is nowhere! It mirrors how I felt at that moment. There were many significant changes in my life, luckily nothing concerning my family, but still major changes. In order to cope with it all, I started making ambient tracks. It was the only thing that helped me to cope and focus again. The tracks happened by themselves. Listening to them and working on those albums was a calming experience. When they were finished, I played them to Chris, and he convinced me that he liked them. That led to the decision to make those first tapes. Later I sent them to you. Your reaction was very motivating because the music got released. With that motivation and getting back into a studio environment, the Cloudwalker tracks just poured out of me very quickly - it felt terrific to go back to the studio. My family gave me the time to work in my studio, and you and Chris gave very motivating feedback! From my perspective, this makes Cloudwalker my most important album so far, and I am very thankful for this chance! Another key element is that you gave me total freedom regarding artwork, choosing tracks, and their order. Just great!

Well, I knew going in that you know what you are doing. So I shouldn't have needed to step in and manage such details. For release prep, I'm available to take care of the details that an artist doesn't have access to or the working knowledge. You and Chris ran Toytronics, and you are a graphic artist as well, so I knew that you know the drill. If something was glaring or didn't work under the n5 stylistic umbrella, it is my job to say something, but I was pretty confident that wouldn't happen. I also know that after you completed the tracks, you took a great deal of time to get them to flow perfectly and also fit on four LP sides—your care in craft shows, and it's been great to work with you.

You brought up Chris, and there is an Abfahrt Hinwl remix on Cloudwalker, so; I'm going to ask. Are we going to hear some new Abfahrt Hinwl soon?

Thank you, as I said, that means a lot to me. And I still think that it is a fortunate situation. The AH RMX of Sailing Everest on Cloudwalker was just me, to be honest. That is why I used an abbreviation - AH. It is more a hint. It has a lot of the Abfahrt Hinwil ingredients. We tried to revive the project and realized that working over a distance via the internet does not work for either of us. The key of Abfahrt Hinwil was that we worked in the same room, at the same time, with the same equipment - listening to what the other one does - giving an immediate reaction. The most important point is communication, which has to happen immediately - you need to respond straight away, not with a delay. Today we find ourselves in two different life situations. We both would like to continue. After an online experiment, we realized it would be only possible when we visit each other and then work in the same studio. That is not possible at the moment, and Covid plays a significant role in that.

Ah, I see; Abfahrt Hinwil was you and Chris basically feeding off one another; also, there are cheques and balances, which is great to have. I completely understand why it would not be feasible to do it from a distance effectively. So, I'd like to pivot to these little builds I see on your Instagram. You recently sent me a pic of a peculiar little box that looks to be a synth. Assuming this is something you built (loving the stickering, by the way). What is this, and does it appear on Cloudwalker?

(laughing) That is a drone box handmade by a guy in Russia. Six oscillators, each one with a kill switch. Three standard range oscillators and 3 Sub. A very rough-sounding machine, great for drones. The filter sounds very nasty, just great. There is a little bit in the track Cloudwalker itself but washed out by Big Sky. The downside is that there is no midi, trigger gate, or voltage control. It is more of an experiment tool. The important parts of the track Cloudwalker have Mutable Instruments: Plaits and Tides 1, using the Sheep mode. Both outputs went into Warps, modulated by Stages. The little melody was played live on the Yamaha DX Reface, going into the Big Sky. It was all recorded live onto tape to 4 tracks to a Tascam 234. Then it was mixed the classic way, patchbay, fx, analog mixer main out to digital. 75% of the album was recorded to a Sound Devices MixPre-3 II.

It sounds like your Big Sky gets some action! Strymon makes some exceptional pedals. It seems like you can almost entirely make music out of the box if you needed to, which is excellent. So one last question: When we collaborated on the Cloudwalker one sheet text, you added something about the production tools "representing technology from 1958 to 2019," and I asked if 1958 was a type-o that needed to be corrected to 1985 when it was not. When people read that, I think they will be very curious as to what technology you utilized from that far back…

Yes, it is a great pedal, I love the sound and the fact that you get nice results very quickly.

1958- (laughing) There is an on oscilloscope from Russia, which can be seen in some of the videos on HIDDEN REALITY, and 2 vintage function generators. I got those old function generators from a close friend, he is an electronic engineer and professor for physics at a university. They got rid of all their old equipment, and he asked if I wanted to have something. He could not throw those old machines away, so he rescued them to his cellar. He changed the connections for me, so I can use them with the modular environment, using my standard patch cables. I used them a lot as modulation sources, as they can modulate extremely slow (like MI tides). But I have to admit that I got them for their looks in the first place…(laughing) - Those machines look like the machinery you see in Qs research center in old James Bond movies...

Order Cloudwalker now: US / UK / EU

Learn even more about Gimmik

[timeaftertime-chriscornellfanfic]

Chapter 35 - What Have You Done My Little Spark?

Seattle Washington, July 12 1990

(Chris is 25, Andi is 20)

CHRIS: I wake up in the middle of the night, my eyes quickly flicking open, feeling my heart pounding. It's been a while since I've had a dream that woke me up like this and the crazy thing is, I can't even remember what the dream was about.

I sit myself up and glance over to see Andi sleeping so sweetly, the sheet pulled up to her ribs with her side exposed, her curls all around her with some strewn across her face. She looks completely at peace, her bare chest gently rising and falling with  the perfect view of her nipples that make me want to wake her up and make love to her again.

Instead I decide to get out of bed, grab my boxers from the floor, pull them on, and quietly make my way out of the bedroom.

"Fuck, it's so damn hot in this house," I say quietly to myself.

We're right in the middle of a heatwave and of course we don't have air conditioning - not that we would be able to afford it right now anyways. I mean we're not broke but the European leg of the tour really took a lot of money out of us so we have to resort back to that beat up old van for the next round of tour dates. I was beginning to like having a bus for a little while but hey, at least when I get bored on the road, I'm usually the one to drive us. I just feel bad for Andi cause now she has to share a van with 4 guys. Not that she would mind, she seems to love it out on the road and I absolutely love having her with me. She's the one who keeps me sane.

I head into the kitchen, grab my pack of cigarettes off the counter and light one up, then open up the fridge and grab a bottle of water, and decide to head downstairs into the little studio that I set up in the basement. It's not exactly high tech or anything, just our guitars and amps and I was able to pick up an old reel to reel tape machine from London Bridge Studios - where we recorded Louder Than Love. It was one of their old machines that they just didn't use anymore and so I just bought it real cheap.

I take a seat in one of the large reading chairs we have down here, place the cigarette between my lips and pick up one of my acoustic guitars. I grab one of the journals that I have off the desk and start to flip through the pages of ideas and lyrics that I've written down. Usually when I have a hard time sleeping, I'll try and see if I can get some words and ideas down.

As I quint my eyes from the rising smoke, I flip though the journal I suddenly realize it's Andi's which makes me smile at some of her ideas. She really can come up with some great stuff so I grab a pen and start writing in some of the margins.

"I'm your disappearing one, vanish when you play your song. But I will come again and you will let me in, and you'll see I never disappear for long... Huh... shit, baby that's good..." I say to myself as I rest the cigarette on the ashtray and write something just above it.

'Falling apart, You tell yourself you are, but I am here and you're not far...’

I smirk to myself and continue on turning pages when I reach a page towards the back that had been stuffed inside the cover. Intrigued, I pull out the folded paper and open it to see a letter from Andy, dated January 25 1990

"I don't have any Idea why I'm even writing this down but you were always the one to tell me that I should. You know me though, I like to just fly by the top of my head I guess. Fuck there's so much that I want to say to you, it's just how do I even say it? I know I shouldn't. I should keep it to myself. 'I wanna tell her that I love her but does it really matter?' Yea, I know... it sounds much better in Crown of Thorns don't you think?

All I know is that night in the park by The Moore... that was the most amazing kiss I've ever had in my life. I mean, I knew I was feeling something. You, the birthday girl in all your sadness. I just wanted to take that away for just a few moments like you always did for me.

I know, I know... it's not exactly the best timing for this is it? If only I was the one who could time slip, maybe things would be different. But you were meant for Cornell and I know in my deepest of hearts that he was meant for you. I mean just watching how he is with you... you woke up something inside him that I didn't think anyone would see. But of course he's loved you since he was what - 15? You are for Chris as what I wish Xana was for me. You know I love Xana, I always will, but I just think we aren't right for each other anymore.

Really what I'm trying to say here is that I love you Andrea, more than just a friend. I always have. But I know you are meant to be with Chris and that's ok. Like I said, you two are really meant for each other. I know you two are gonna get married and have lots and lots of beautiful blue eyed babies and I just want you to know that I'm here if you need me. 'Cause I know I sure need you."

As I finish reading the last line, a rush of different feelings all seemed to flood in me at once. Anger, pain, confusion among others. What the hell did he mean about 'that night in the park'?

"Hey baby," I hear Andi's sleepy voice behind me and I turn to see her in one of my button up shirts, her dark curls all around her as she rubs her eye from sleep.

"Hey," I say flatly as I pick up the cigarette burning in the ashtray and take a drag.

"Can't sleep?" She asks and I shrug as I take another drag.

"If you come back to bed, I can help with that," She says sweetly as she comes up behind me and wraps her arms around me, her hands moving over my chest as she places a few kisses on my shoulder. I take one last drag of my cigarette, then butt in out in the ashtray but still say nothing

"What's wrong? Why are you so quiet?" She asks.

"I thought maybe you would want to explain this," I say without much emotion again as I show her the letter I found. She glances at the paper and slowly takes it from my hand while I move out of the chair. She looks it over, pushing her curls behind her ear.

"Where'd you find this?" She asks, furrowing her brow as she still reads the letter.

"Stuffed in the back of your journal," I say coldly as I set the guitar back down on it's stand. I turn back to face her as I see her still reading the letter and wait for an explanation.

"I don't know what you want me to explain, it's just a letter that Andy wrote - "

"What does he mean about 'that night in the park'? What park? When?" I cut her off. She hesitates for a moment and looks back down at the letter.

"Chris... it wasn't anything, It was when I time slipped when we were in Germany. After that fight we had remember?"

"Yea I remember. But what the fuck happened? Did you fuck him?" I say angered and hurt, feeling my heart pounding in my chest again.

"No! No, fuck no - "

"Then what does he mean?" I cut her off again. She glances back at the letter and then looks up at me, her brow furrowing as she tries to find the words.

"I just - "

"You just what?" I cut her off again my voice now louder than before.

"-Ok! I'm trying to tell you alright?" She raises her voice back at me. We then look at each other in silence for a few moments and then she begins to explain.

"... there wasn't anyway that I could tell him what was going to happen. As much as I wanted to, I just couldn't. You and I just had that fight and I was so upset, and seeing him just made me miss him so much. Being able to talk to him and laugh like nothing had happened... it hurts. I was just so sad because he was right there in front of me and I couldn't bring you with me to see him alive again. Like nothing had ever happened and... I don't know it just happened. He kissed me. It was innocent... nothing else happened I swear,"

I could see the tears that she held at bay, explaining to me how she actually was able to go back and see Andy again. I wasn't exactly sure how to feel about it.

"He says he's in love with you in that letter... were you in love with him too?" I ask not sure if I want to hear the answer. She drops the letter on the chair and walks over to me, looking up into my eyes.

"No Chris. My heart is yours. I swear I could never love anyone else as much as I love you," She says and I reach out to cup her face in my palm. Sometimes I forget just how hard it is on her to travel back in time and see the people who have long gone in her life - our life - and to come back and know that they are no longer here.

I lean down and touch my forehead to hers as she moves her hands up over my abs and to my chest.

"Why didn't you just tell me?" I ask calmly.

"I didn't want to make you upset. I didn't want you angry with him... or me," She says.

"I'm not angry, I'm just... I don't know," I say.

I wanted to stay angry. I wanted to stay hurt but she always has a way of making me want her, even when I'm pissed off at her. I suddenly find my lips on hers, my hands on her hips pulling her closer to me, moving around and feeling her ass cheeks through the bottom of my black button up shirt she threw on.

"You should've told me," I repeat softly when I break away from her lips.

"I know," She says sweetly and presses her lips back to mine, her fingers finding their way through my curls, pulling me into her. My hands move up under her shirt, feeling the softness of her pale skin, skipping across her back as she sighs against my lips.

Holy fuck I want her so fucking bad.

"If you come back to bed... I promise... I'll make it up to you," She says in between her kisses. I moan against her lips as she moves her hand down to the front of my boxers, palming me through the thin fabric which almost instantly sprang me to life. She pulls away and bites her bottom lip, raising her eyebrow at me and turns to make her way towards the stairs and as I watch her walk away, admiring that cute ass of hers, she looks back at me stopping at the first step.

"You coming?"

"I will be," I raise my eyebrow back at her and run towards her. She squeals with laughter as I chase her up the stairs, catching her, and carrying her the rest of the way.

[mysticalmusicwhispers]

HELLO I'M BACK!! GUESS WHO HAS A TERM BREAK COMING IN A FEW DAYS I'M VERY HAPPY :D this ask is Very Long so i'm going to split it up into a few parts

part 1/2

But honestly, it would probably be something like “I’m going to bring a (dead) chicken to class for show and tell and you two need to act horrified and cause a ruckus because it would be fun and it would scare the other kids :)”. (this is probably bullying, so in an effort to make them slightly better kids, an alternative plot is that a stray cat has been coming to their school and in order to make friends with it, they feed it a whole-ass dead chicken Nyo China got from the butchers and was planning to cook for dinner. The teachers are horrified and confiscate Yao’s backpack for fear of germs and salmonella.)

hhhhhh the first idea is SO FUN my gremlin repressed anger eight year old self would've loved it. the idea of bringing a stinking plastic bag to school, opening it, revealing a dead, fly-infested chicken and then maybe playing a small game of lobbing the chicken around for funsies is both simultaneously horrifying and amazing. however the second idea is also amazing, one of my previous schools had stray cats and staff and students would feed and pet them (and i miss it :( ) and it was the Best feeling... or maybe they could do BOTH? but this time they're planning to bring a dead chicken to feed the cat (aw, even if yao probably gets detention. also a lecture from nyo china on what exactly you should feed a cat, including why you shouldn't steal the chicken she bought to feed it.) and the next time they can bring like. a bunch of dead flies to show their classmates but in a not bully way. i went once to this family friend's house in a part of the countryside that had an abundance of flies. (i literally haven't thought of this in years i'm remembering so many childhood things because of this omg) they had this paper covered with glue that the flies would land on and then be stuck on the paper. it was both disgusting and amazing to watch a black mass of bulbous bodies straining with their legs (which were probably thinner than my hair) to escape the paper. i also think that indchuran, being both little sadists in the making and having an abudnace of fascination like many children, would take great delight in watching an unsuspecting fly landing on the glue, watch it still, glancing around eerily similarly to when humans realise they have gotten themselves in a bad situation, and then start struggling with all their might to get out. but fuck the flies tho they landed on our food all the time there and it sucked. they can die :)

THE PROBELM is... how will they get that many flies in what i assume would be a gentrified ass area with frequent fumigation efforts given that nyo china would not accept anything than the best elementary education for her ward?? (i have a solution) maybe indus has friends in the countryside and she goes with aditya to visit them. and while they are talking aditya wanders about and discovers a few pieces of paper filled with flies. because he is a gremlin, he is Fascinated with these pieces of paper, and he takes one out to Further Examine. all the adults yell at him, but he is Fascinated and will not be stopped. and then a Thought occurs to him: who would probably enjoy this as much as he would? duh, his friends of course! good things must be Shared even if they're kind of disgusting! so what he does is he gets a disposable plastic tupperware like container, very gently places the fly paper into it, pokes a few holes for air, sprinkles some sugar because he thinks that'll keep them alive, and wraps most of it up in duct tape he found so indus can't see it. unfortunately most of the flies died on the way home because the container was stuffed into aditya's bag and the paper slid to the side + there wasn't enough air, BUT the dead flies are still a Sight to behold when he visits iran's house (which yao is /coincidentally/ visiting) to show them. then he brings it to school after the weekend, and everyone is Fascinated and thinks it is Very Cool, at least until the teachers see it and start screaming. they throw it away but indchuran get an Idea to put dead flies into the bags of people they hate (this is now just bullying) so that opens up a very few interesting weeks of attempts to collect flies in a fumigated city and Horror for the school. fun times for all!

😔 finding and reading that encyclopedia is probably one of my formative memories now and i wish it wasn't 😔 i bet yao during his teenage years would look back on it and be like "... oh my GOD." but i think he would appreciate her directness even if he didn't absorb all the information correctly or remember most of it lmao because it seems like only a very small percentage of the world has actually good sex ed and i don't think indchuran's school would be an exception. at least nyo china like you said instilled a good sense of consent with them 😔 also the idea of saying fuck in mandarin makes me break out in hives the AUDACITY of saying fuck in your first language but of course he would. he WOULD. nyo china probably wouldn't even have purposely taught him that which is why he doesn't know what it means, just that it's an insult, but once they come up to her to complain all she does is give them a Terrifying Contemptuous Glare and steer yao away from them. yao is her kid and therefore entitled to say fuck whenever he wants.

Prev

First things first I hope you had a good term break! this is... very overdue sorry about that :(

Second, ALSK:FJ:SLFDKSFDLKJSLDF the fly infested chicken is disgusting and I want so badly to intervene,,, they need hELP. Please learn about proper sanitation, children, I’m begging you T-T. Also, headcanon accepted: they’re ostensibly bringing it to feed the cats (which is hopefully allowed) but also they want to terrorize (or awe) their fellow classmates with this discovery. Watch the school call up nyo china about this, but she gets annoyed only because yao wasted human food in order to feed cats, not because he brought an inappropriately dead chicken to school that scared the younger kids and fellow classmates lol; what a great value system. Also this scenario def happened:  School: your child got in a fight. Nyo China: Oh no! Did he win?

I am both fully revolted and half fascinated by the flypaper thing because on one hand I CANNOT stand flies, and killing them is 178% gross. But also the way you described it is... very compelling and I would like to experience that, gross as it is lol. So yea I can definitely see those three nastily observing the flies getting stuck to the flypaper one by one... they all intently watch the flypaper with round and curious eyes and it really looks very cute from far away, three heads of fluffy hair close together and bent over something, carrying on an animated whispered discussion, until you get closer and see that they’re watching flies on flypaper •—•;; An even more gross scenario would be if one of them accidentally squashes one and they crowd around to see what fly guts look like 😭 bonus points if it happens during school. Also YES to Indus’s countryside friend; I feel like India would have a lot of fun exploring over there and would be able to bring back v cool stories for city slicker Yao, and also Iran (although I don’t know where they’d live precisely. I feel like they’d probably have a medium sized house with very nice art and Classy furniture (they got good taste from somewhere), but they’d also knows a lot about how rural areas work and stuff, so uh.. suburbs? Or something like that?)

“then he brings it to school after the weekend, and everyone is Fascinated and thinks it is Very Cool. . .” O—O sigh... three balls of absolute chaos. At least the other kids are fascinated this time instead of apprehensive ^-^ but the dead flies in lockers AL:KDSLFDSJF PLEASE NO me as an elementary student would have been absolutely horrified and I. really hope they get detention for that lol; Please Tone Down kids 😔 (also do y’all get flies in the lights at school? Because every single classroom I’ve been in has either had flies, wasps, moths, or some other black spots in the lights and they’d multiply as the year went on 😭 I never thought about it too much but... what if they linger around to watch the lights get cleaned? o-o)

“i bet yao during his teenage years would look back on it and be like "... oh my GOD."” YEAH there’s always a select few memories that make you realize “what even WAS that” and I think this is one lol. Yao just buries it in the back of his spacious mental closet and makes India and Iran swear not to bring it up again but inevitably they do :))))) they find it rather hilarious, actually. Also yes at least Nyo China did a good job in that department!

“also the idea of saying fuck in mandarin makes me break out in hives the AUDACITY of saying fuck in your first language but of course he would” lol I wrote that thinking he'd call someone a 王八* (because it could technically pass as a regular noun o-o. Who knows, maybe he was insulting someone for being slow like a turtle but it got out of hand due to word choice lol) but... the second scenario is quite something... I don't know whether I should laugh or cry. RIP the other parents who just have to fervently hope that disgraceful kid from next door grows out of his foul mouth soon (he never does, just gets better at pretending his language is elegant and not at all dirty XD)

*for non mandarin speakers 王八 is literally a soft shelled turtle, but is actually a pretty big insult in mandarin :)

[beatsfortheillperth]

Words with Jetson

Our next interview is with a producer and rapper out of a beautiful place known as Tauranga, in New Zealand, This creative is known as Jetson.

He happens to be one of my cat, Rain's personal favourites for sleep time and regardless of the amount of thumping bass Jetson's music creates and picture frames it knocks over, I understand why he sleeps so sweetly.

Probably a lot to do with the fact that bass has rhythm, just like the sweet sweet words Jetson correlates with his word-plays in tracks such as "Milk" and "SENSEI". Not only impressing cats, Jetson has made moves and connections beyond the long white cloud, proving isolation doesn't always silence brilliance. Jetson brings words any generation can hold some sort of relevance to, words that allow one to notice life moves fast and slow and sometimes you just have to chill and become an observer rather than an instigator.

This is something I feel Jetson has accomplished with his rather low-key approach to releases and interviews.

Jetson is a natural, a true prodigy of sound and a sharer of moods, and to me, is a reminder that with a little bit of passion and persistence, great things can happen, whatever your field.

Jetson’s collective and label - Chill Children is evidence of that, as through it , Jetson is able to work and release with producers and beat-makers all over the globe.

emo the optimist, BACKWHEN, fuyu, eets, and junyii are just some of the diverse talents working with Chill Children and everyone on the catalogue are game-changers that make music that’s anointed in chills. 

Creators that push boundaries and portray emotion through sound in the most soothing way, one must check Chill Children.

So with that I hope you enjoy rare words with the nuance wonder, and in his own words.

Sit back, relax, get baked, create, f**k it.

Enjoy and much love.

Hey man thanks for the opportunity to share words. Let's start with a few random quick questions to get things going. Favourite Beverage: Lemon water. Favourite thing to do in your down-time: Make music/skate. Views on Reincarnation: It will be cool if it is true but I guess it doesn't really change anything if it is 🤷‍♂️ Favourite Food: Sushi. Favourite Album of All Time: Tribe Called Quest - Midnight Marauders A song to break it down to: Ethereal & Playboi Carti - Beef A song to chill to: Durand Jones & The Indications - Cruising to the park Do you prefer Sunrise? or Sunset? Why?: Sunset, because I'm never awake for sunrise. A childhood memory in regards to music: I remember saving up to buy Graduation by Kanye West and listening to that shit front to back for weeks straight. Favourite Place to be: Probably on an island.

Thanks for that, so let's start by asking what inspires you to produce and not only produce but continually produce, what to me is an array of tunes fitting so many genres?

Do you have a set of goals in place when you release a track or do you just hit upload and just hope people are feeling your sound?

What I like to listen to is constantly changing so I like to challenge myself to try and make the things that I'm inspired by.

I like to think that you never know what you're gonna get when you listen to my music but I've still got so much to learn and experiment with. I just try have fun with it and not think about it too much.

How long have you been producing music, and what did you find was hardest to get the hang of when it first came to producing beats?

I had no music theory knowledge or anything when I started making beats (I still don't have much) so there was a lot to learn right away.

Probably the hardest thing that I still battle with is knowing what you should release, what you shouldn't etc. It's hard to balance knowing when something is finished and when it still needs work.

Could you give a quick run-through of the process you follow when it comes to making a beat?

I try to change my process as much as I can to keep things fresh and fun for myself. But I really enjoy hearing a sample somewhere like keys, a quote or a rapper I want to remix, then I start working with that piece and see where it goes.

I'll mess around with the beat for a while and sometimes a track comes out. It can take one day, it can take months. Just depends.

Oldies are always goodies in my books and I have to mention your "bumps from 2014" mixtape, it truly is something special.

What inspired those little bumps? What were you doing back then? Also, can you remember the mood you were in when you made them?

I'm glad you like it haha. That was when I really had no clue what I was doing in terms of making beats, I was making all of those 'off the grid' in Ableton so I was placing drums in random places, I had no idea what bpm the samples were or anything. I really didn't know wtf I was doing, just going off of a vibe. 

My mood was really just being excited about making music, I was living in the basement at my mum's house blasting beats on the speakers all day.

[bumps from 2014] - https://soundcloud.com/sleepgodd/bumps-from-2014

You are also a rapper. My favourite NZ rapper to be more precise so thank you for the vibes you create. How did you find out you had it in you to rap and how old were you?

Damn, I appreciate that ✌️ I started rapping with a friend of mine, Jesse aka j cafe when we were around 20. We'd sit in my room smoking weed, and free-styling over beats on Soundcloud all night. 

Then we decided to make a track, so we found a beat and jumped in the closet to record some vocals on the laptop microphone.

We put it up on Soundcloud and I've been addicted to making music ever since.

Link to j cafe’s Soundcloud here - https://soundcloud.com/j-cafe

Cover art for Jetson’s 2019 rap release - bluntscraps

Album cover art by Takuroh Toyama

When did you first start rapping in front of others? What did it feel like in the beginning compared to now when you perform live?

I was insanely nervous the first time I ever did anything live and that feeling really hasn't left me lol.

Except now I know how to deal with nerves a bit better and actually enjoy the whole experience of doing something live.

I definitely think I'm a lot better now than my first time doing it, but I still kinda suck 😂 Staying on topic with your rapping, material-wise you have mad skills, your music is forever helping me chill out so thank you.

When did you start writing down your words and turning them into structured songs? Do you have any other artists that inspire your writing style?

When I was younger I really liked the flow of rappers rather than what they were actually saying.

Dudes like MF Doom and Earl Sweatshirt really influenced me at the start wanting to come up with lines that were catchy and different.

To form an actual track I usually just mumble over beats to get the flow, then I start placing words in the spots where I think they fit.

Does your family know you make music? If so what do they think of it, any dance parties in the Jetson Family Household? 

My immediate family all know and support my music. My mum used to have one of my tracks as her ringtone for years lol.

No jetson dance parties yet, but seems like every year more people in my extended family know about my music.

You were also a member of NZ Duo, Chill Children of which you rap and produce with yet another kiwi talent, both having low-key approaches when it comes to presenting yourselves through social media. What happened with that?

Me and J Cafe started Chill Children as a rap project in the early days but we moved to different places in the world and started doing our own solo projects so things sort of stopped happening with it.

I still credit those times with really getting me started on music though. He's still making dope shit and we'll probably link up on a track soon.

So then it became a sort of collective community, and through your Chill Children Soundcloud, you allow a platform for other artists to have their music heard.

Much Love on the concept, What inspired you to start sharing other artists music and what keeps you sharing? I'm very grateful btw, too many gems.

I work on music a lot with my friend emo the optimist (aka kodama) and we always wanted to run a label/collective kind of thing so we could release music from artists that we really liked.

After me and Jesse started doing our own thing, Chill Children seemed like the perfect place to start doing that.

It's one of my favorite things to work on as we have a hand in working with the artists on every release. I just love that we're able to share so much music that we really like with the world.

Check Chill Children here -

Bandcamp - https://chillchildren.bandcamp.com/

Soundcloud - https://soundcloud.com/chillchildren

Instagram - @chillchildren

Any new Chill Children material we should keep an eye out for?

We always have new music from new artists dropping so definitely follow our instagram/twitter if you want to stay updated on it.

We're currently working on a phonk compilation with guys like DJ Yung Vamp, Genshin etc. It's gonna be crazy 🤯

Back to your solo releases through your alias Jetson. What made you want to start putting out your material alone? Also, do you have a favourite Jetson release?

I really felt like I had to release music solo to see what I could do.

I've learned so much about myself through that process, became more confident and a better musician.

Probably my favorite rap track I've made is called 'Escape'.

Not many people have heard it but it's on Spotify and other places.

My favorite beat I've made is probably 'dylan rieder'.

Have to ask, are you working on any new releases we should keep an ear out for? If so, what can we expect with your coming releases?

I just released an album on Bandcamp called THROWED TAPES which was really influenced by DJ screw and other phonk producers.

I'm working on a lofi R&B tape for Bandcamp, a lofi beat tape, and I really want to release a rap EP.

Who knows when those will come out though haha

Taking it back a little to your rapping again I have to mention "Milk". What inspires the words in this track?

Also please share the story behind your track "Melancholy"? The words are somewhat mesmerizing, thank you!

With milk, I just heard the beat from bsd.u and really wanted to make something weird that just followed the flow of the beat.

On melancholy I tried to think about what I was saying a little more. The instrumental is so introspective and smooth I knew I had to come correct on it.

THROWED TAPES By Jetson, released August, 27, 2020

Musical Recommendations?

junyii - emo the optimist - knxwledge - j cafe - jesse james solomon - the smiths - dj yung vamp - shuggie otis - hm surf - alicks - MIKE - baccyard - meraki soul - steve hiett I could go on for days though lol

Creatives to keep an eye out for in music and art? Takuroh Toyama (photography) Moebius (visual art) Steve Hiett (photography/music) Any Last Words?

It really trips me out that people enjoy something I love to do so much.

So just thank you for vibing with me, I have a lot more to share ✌️

Support Jetson here -

Soundcloud - https://soundcloud.com/highimjetson

Bandcamp - https://jetsonbumps.bandcamp.com/

Spotify - https://open.spotify.com/artist/2bkf2PmiVyfCqg2uzIFIqJ

Twitter - https://twitter.com/jetsonbumps

Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/jetsonn/?hl=en

Milk by Jetson (Production by bsd.u)

[thinger-strang]

Singing in the Shower and Other Sins (aka three times Steve was caught singing and the one time he wasn't)

@gideongrace this is for you 😚

(link to the version on ao3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/21394876 )

i.

Steve sings all the time. Loud and off key in a goofy sort of lovable way. He jams with Dustin on their way to school, dances around Scoops and Family Video when it's slow, uses anything and everything as a mic.

Which made it so weird when Robin walked into work to find Steve singing like, good.

He had his back to her with an armful of tapes. His voice was soft and he was gently bopping (so he didn't drop all the videos). But his voice was so good!

Robin leaned against the wall and just observed Steve for a moment. It was weird, almost wrong, to hear the correct sound notes come from him.

"Having fun there, Springsteen?"

She shouldn't have scared him, she knows that. But his face was so funny when spun around, barely holding onto his stack of tapes.

"Jesus, warn a guy, Buckley!" He snapped, running his free hand through his hair.

"You can sing."

"What?"

"You always sing bad when I'm around, but you can like actually sing! Like sing really good!"

"Oh, no I wasn't singing? That was...that was definitely just the radio, I can't sing for shit, you know that--"

"Nuh uh Harrington, I know your dirty little secret now! You've got pipes!"

Steve rolled his eyes.

"Rob." He started putting stuff away again. "You of all people know I can't sing to save my life."

"I just heard you, don't know why you're denying it."

"Whatever, go get your vest before Keith gets here." Steve nodded towards the break room door but smiled at her knowingly.

"Fucking knew it!" She shouted as she went to put her vest on. "Why are you trying to hide this magnificent gift God herself has bestowed upon you?"

Steve shrugged and handed her half his stack once she got back.

"Don't tell anyone, don't need you messing up what little cred I have left."

She flipped him off.

He stuck his tongue out at her.

Life went on.

ii.

Steve made the mistake of telling Dustin where the spare key to his front door was. Under the ceramic frog in the planter left of the door. But the kid was basically his little brother and he'd shown Steve where his spare key was the week before. So they were even now.

So Dustin let himself and the rest of the party into Steve's house for an impromptu hang out sesh. Mike, Lucas, and Max made a beeline for the kitchen to drop off the arm fulls of snack they had while Dustin showed Will and Jane around.

Jane had started going by "Jane" full time since the Hopper-Byers move and the party was supportive as always. And since their move, the party had had three? maybe four hang outs at Steve's. So a tour was necessary since they missed the preliminary Casa de Harrington party.

"Holy shit do you guys hear that?" Will whispered once they got to the second floor's landing.

The other two stopped and listened. They heard a shower running and a radio going. Nothing special. Dustin strained his ears.

"No way."

"'No way' what?" Lucas asked as he, Max, and Mike joined them.

"That's Steve singing in the shower!"

"What's so bad about him singing in the shower?" Jane asked.

"Steve can't sing to save his life!" Mike said, incredulously.

"He's not that bad guys," Max tried to defend him.

"Okay, I love the guy like a brother but he drives me to school everyday and no, he cannot sing." Dustin explained as they crept closer to the bathroom door.

The shower shut off and his voice became clearer. The party continued bickering until the door swung open. Steam billowed out and Steve sang a line until he noticed the gaggle of teenagers in his hallway.

"What the fuck guys."

"What the fuck yourself Steven!" Mike shot back.

"Yeah, are you serious? For like, almost a year I've had to listen to you screech along to the radio when you've had the voice of an angel this whole time?! That's just plain rude." Dustin crossed his arms dramatically.

"Angelic's a little generous, Henderson."

"Your voice is really pretty," Jane said in awe.

Steve blushed and wrapped his arms around his torso.

"Thanks kid. Hey, how's Missouri treating you guys?" Steve pulled his shirt from the floor and put it on.

"Pretty good, the school has a huge library and Will joined an art club!" Jane said excitedly.

Will nodded along with her, putting his hands into his hoodie.

"Oh that's awesome! Glad you guys like it up there--"

"Can we get back to the whole 'Steve can actually sing' thing? Because that's still blowing my mind," Lucas interjected, flailing his arms a little.

"Yeah, can you sing Whitney? Because those were some pretty high notes if my ears don't decieve me." Max grinned evilly.

"No, I can't sing Whitney, I can barely sing, remember?" Steve sounded like he was talking to toddlers.

"Dude, none of use are deaf, we all heard." Mike gave him an unimpressed look.

"Yeah, and that was Queen and you definitely hit all those high notes. You can totally sing Whitney!" Max laughed and nudged Will when he stifled a giggle.

"I can't believe I'm being mocked by a bunch of 10 year olds!"

"We're fifteen, Harrington," Dustin said sarcastically.

Steve rolled his eyes.

"Okay, can you shits get out of my room so I can get dressed? Don't feel like spending the day in a towel while you make fun of my singing abilities."

He started to herd them towards the stairs as they protested, claiming they weren't making fun, just confused as to why he would torture them with a fake awful voice.

When Steve came downstairs, Max pushed play on the tape player in the living room. "I Wanna Dance With Somebody" started playing and Steve turned red.

"This isn't fucking karaoke night you dweebs!"

But he started laughing when they all started throwing popcorn at him and he proceeded to dump snacks onto everyone else, starting an epic pre-movie night food fight.

iii.

Robin's parents were going to be out of town for the first time in a thousand years so, naturally, she was throwing a party.

It wasn't a typical high school rager, more like a get together between friends and absolutely no children, Steve!

So really it was just Steve, Nancy, Jonathan, Barb, and Billy.

Steve and Billy came over early to help make food. Which translated to Steve making food while Billy sat on the couch and read, using the "I died for you bitches" excuse for the millionth time.

And ever since Robin had caught him singing at work, he became more and more comfortable singing around her. She didn't ask about him singing around Billy. So here he was, singing while mixing something together in a bowl. Like a goddamn housewife.

"If my parents were here they'd be so pleased I found a nice boy who knows what he's doing in the kitchen." She said as she measured some milk out for the brownies.

She could hear Billy snort from the living room over the "knowing what he's doing in the kitchen" comment.

Steve laughed and kicked at her shins.

Wham! came on and Steve's face lit up. And it was the yo-yo song, the best freaking one. And Robin was in band so her inntonation wasn't like awful, she definitely had the lungs for singing.

So they were singing along to George Michael in the Buckley's colorful kitchen while making brownies when the other three showed up.

"You can sing?" Barb asked with big eyes.

"You act like I've never sung in front you you before." Steve replied while hunching over, self conscious.

"Yeah but normally it's more...pitchy," Nancy offered.

"We're not judging your anything man, you've got a great voice," Jonathan filled in quickly. "Didn't really believe Will when he said Steve could sing."

He said that last part mostly to Nancy, but everyone heard it.

And Robin was kind of done. Because Steve told her, one time when they were hotboxing his car, that he sang bad on purpose because his dad thought it was "faggy" to be able sing that well. That he sounded like Freddie and George and Bowie in the worst way. And she knew he was bi, knew he got embarrassed when people started talking about him singing because of what his dad said.

She was about to call them out when Billy flipping Hargrove beat her to it.

"Leave him alone, you're just jealous your pipes aren't as good," Billy said in a monotone voice from the couch.

"It's fine, Billy, they're--"

"No he's right, lay off."

Nancy and Jonathan at least had the decency to look embarrassed. Barb walked into the kitchen to help out.

"Your voice really is good. Didn't mean to sound so shocked before. You were just...really good. And I totally remember you singing into a hairbrush that one time? And your voice cracked all over the place?" Barb bumped her hip into Steve's, wiggling her eyebrow.

"Oh my god, I almost lost my voice from that! God, that was forever ago, cannot believe you remember that."

"Yeah that's what made me realize 'King Steve" was like an actual human boy, not this entity the entire school and Nancy made you out to be."

Billy migrated from the couch to the counter when he heard the words "King Steve" and put his book on the counter top.

"When was this?" And thank god for Billy because Robin wanted to ask so bad what they were talking about.

"Oh Steve threw a little party back in junior year to woo Nancy and he was a little buzzed and was trying to make her laugh by singing along to, what was it?" Barb turned to smirk at Steve.

"ABBA, it's was ABBA."

Billy rolled his eyes and mumbled "of course" as Robin cackled.

"Very on brand, dingus."

"Yeah but he overexaggerated the awfulness and his voice cracked, like, painfully. Like, I felt it, it was so bad!"

Steve scrunched up his nose at the memory and laughed. Robin and Billy started laughing too and Barb continued telling embarrassing stories about Steve that the other two had never heard before.

+i.

Steve jolted awake to a loud clattering sound coming from the other end of his room.

"How many times do I have to tell you to clear off your fucking desk, Harrington," Billy stage whispered angrily.

"How many times do I have to tell you to use the fucking front door, Hargrove."

Steve hopped out of bed to meet Billy by the window. He scanned his face for bruises which made Billy rolls his eyes.

"Can't a guy just visit his boyfriend in the middle of the night without anything being wrong?"

"Yeah but you only sneak in through my window when you've had a bad night, you dramatic fuck." Steve cupped Billy's face with one hand and let him lean into it.

Comfortable silence enveloped them before Billy broke it.

"Couldn't sleep," he mumbled.

"Okay." Steve let Billy drop his head into his shoulder. " Do you wanna talk about it or go to bed?"

Because "couldn't sleep" is generally code for nightmares.

Billy shrugged, shoulder bumping Steve's chin a little, and Steve nodded, tugging him towards the bed.

He helped Billy get down to just his boxers and a tee before getting under the covers. Steve positioned them so that Billy was half laying in Steve with his ear over his heart and their legs tangled. Because Steve liked the pressure and Billy liked listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat.

They laid like that for a minute, getting comfortable and used to each other's warmth.

And Billy had told him, a long time ago, that his mom used to sing to him when he couldn't sleep. And that was before Billy knew Steve could actually sing. That was what made Steve sing for real in front of him.

So, on nights like this, Steve sang.

He started humming the intro to "Going to California", moving his fingers in time up and down Billy's back. Billy let out a sigh and pressed himself closer into Steve's chest.

So Steve sang into the dark of his bedroom, chasing away monsters; the kind that live in your house and the kind that live underground, until Billy drifted off and pulled Steve with him into a warm and deep sleep that only comes when wrapped around someone you love.

[all-or-nothing-baby]

My Personal Journey to The Land of Pan (But not Neverland. Or wherever that Greek God of The Wild lives.)

I'm Lucy and I used to think I was a Lesbian.

My first kiss was at seven years old, with a girl. When we were alone, we'd kiss and be affectionate and hold hands. After a while, I asked her, "Why do we only do these things when nobody else is around?" and also, "Do you want to be my girlfriend?" She answered "No, don't be stupid. It's wrong and we shouldn't be doing it anyway. And I don't want to do it anymore."

I was gutted and didn't understand.

The next four people I kissed were girls. Each of them eventually said similar things.

I still didn't understand.

What was even more confusing to me was I knew I liked boys too. The first person I'd wanted to kiss was a boy with dark hair that hung in his bluer-than-blue eyes. I was at nursery school (kindergarten). Age, it seemed really wasn't a thing. I could like boys and girls my own age but also felt attraction to much older people.

So, I thought, what does all this make me? Different? Yes. A freak? Maybe. Except I didn't really feel like a freak (not for these reasons, at least.) The only thing that actually worried me was my family. I was brought up pretty strict Catholic. I never believed in God but was scared of the things said in the bible - even if I knew it was horseshit - because they believed it. I feared my parents would think I was broken or something. So, I kept schtum.

It was in my teens when I stopped worrying or caring.

Thank (fuck) the UK'S Channel 4 was, from its birth in 1982, a controversial and progressive station. This boon, plus having the advantage of older peers which meant borrowed VHS tapes, alongside my canny ninja abilities (creeping downstairs at the various kids homes I ended up living in), gave me the priceless gift of watching late night movies, such as:

Dog Day Afternoon (1975), My Beautiful Launderette (1985), My Own Private Idaho (1991), Bound (1996), and Sunday, Bloody Sunday (1971).

Even though these films were awesome as somebody who'd experienced same-sex attraction, they still didn't solve the mystery of Me.

I liked both females and males.

Then, in a magazine, I read about 'bisexuality'.

FINALLY I had an explanation for why I was the way I was. And not only that, I wasn't the only one.

So, for the longest time, I thought I was bisexual.

Some of the people I fell for identified with a different gender to the one they were (supposedly, according to everyone else) born with, which I wondered about. To be honest though, by this point, I didn't really care about semantics. I just knew I was sexually and romantically attracted to anyone who made me feel things.

I told my family as and when it came up. I didn't 'come out' as to me, I didn't see why I had to. I'd just tell them when I found someone attractive, whatever their sex. Thankfully, they weren't at all bothered. I'll be eternally grateful to them for that, seeing as I know some people who've been completely ostracised by their own just for who they love.

I'm now thirty-eight. I only heard the term pansexual about five years ago. When I researched it, it was so cool to find out that what I am is a thing.

It was like my whole life I'd been drawing in the sand with a stick. At first, I had no idea what I was drawing. Then, I knew what the image was, but I couldn't quite finish it; I couldn't see it all at once--it was too big. The term pansexual was my helicopter. It flew me up above the beach and, for the first time, I could see the whole picture.

I'm attracted to people. I fall for people. That's it.

This post is a also a thank you. It's for all the people who came before me; and those who came (and will continue to come) after me, who fought and fight for queer rights. They allowed and allow all of us the privileges we have today. Things are still not where they should be, but they are on their way there. One day, I hope, nobody will have to feel confused. Nobody will be cut out, laughed at or beaten. Nobody will have to come out.

I'm Lucy and I'm pansexual.

(Aaaaaand to those of you who have reached this point, wow. And thank you for coming to my Ted Talk! To show my appreciation of you taking the time to read my queer lifestory [the short version!], here's an incomplete selection of stars I had the hots for growing up. All the love, from me to you… June 12th 2019.)

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