#There might be something wrong with me for mitski to be my top artist | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

starsstruck · 4 years ago

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cloudbusting; part two.

a classic coffee shop story. harry is a painter that quickly becomes a regular at his neighbourhood cafe, and it just might have something to do with a certain barista. rushed closing shifts, late night grocery shopping, and stolen looks.

pairing: harry x reader warnings: language words: 10.9k

art by holly warburton. (i have no vision for the mc of the fic, people in the images of paintings i use are purely because this is how i envision harry’s art to be !)

series masterlist |

a/n: part 2 babyy ! i’m so excited to share this story you have no idea, i really hope everyone enjoys this chapter ! as always i love to hear your thoughts, please share and let me know what you think ! ❣️

Life apparently was one long grocery run.

When you weren’t heading to and from work, you were going to the grocery store. Somehow never able to do one big trip with enough groceries to last you over a week. Even when you tried, you always found yourself heading back a couple nights later for something that was forgotten.

So here you found yourself, after a shift on a Wednesday night, walking through the brightly lit aisles of a nearby supermarket. With a quick stop home to change out of your jeans, to dress in something a bit more fitting for the hot July evening.

Sound of Mitski filling your ears, stopping in the produce section as you filled a cloth bag with a few heads of broccoli.

Harry spotted you nearly immediately. You were observing a zucchini like it was the last vegetable on the planet, eyebrows furrowed and full attention focused on it before you placed it in the basket that was perched in the crook of your arm.

Slowly walking towards you; not wanting to seem like he had been following you through the store, but also wanting to get the chance to talk to you.

His lips twitched as he took in your outfit, some cutoff shorts with a big beige teeshirt loosely tucked into the waistband. He squinted a bit, making out the face of Cher on the back of the shirt.

You had moved from the vegetables to the fruits, picking up a couple of peaches at random to place in your basket. He skirted around the few people in the supermarket, heading to the fruit section as well.

Grabbing a bag of green grapes that were directly across from you, he tried not to look at you.

It took a few seconds, but as you walked over to his side of the section you finally glanced at him. Not fully realizing it was Harry right away, having to whip your head back up again as you found his eyes were already on you.

There was a moment of silent staring, neither saying a word, before you gave him a tentative smile and a small wave.

It wasn’t uncommon that you saw regulars out and about outside of the café. Since you lived closed by, and a lot of regulars were patrons that lived in the neighbourhood. More times than you could count you’d had odd encounters and run-ins.

Sometimes they would recognize you and you wouldn’t know who they were, sometimes they would try and strike up a conversation. The most you usually gave them was a polite smile and maybe a little wave.

But as Harry grinned at you, you found yourself taking out your earphones.

“Hey,” he spoke first, shifting the basket in his hands. “Fancy seeing you here.”

You laughed lightly at his words. “Seem to be seeing a lot of you lately…”

Harry felt his cheeks warm. “I mean –” he stumbled over his words. “Not that much. Considering it’s usually at your work.”

“That’s true,” you mumbled, glancing down at your shopping basket, nearly embarrassed by how much snack food you had rather than food to cook with.

“You didn’t come to the show.”

Looking back up to meet his gaze again, you bit your lips together. “Yeah I – sorry.”

There were a lot of reasons you didn’t go. When he had invited you last week, you told him that you were going to be closing that day so you might not be able to go. Which was fully the truth.

The night of, you had briefly considered it. But you also didn’t really know him at all, and found it maybe a bit weird if you went? Even though he invited you.

“Closing took a while and well – anyway, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he chuckled. “It was a small show, there’s sure to be more.”

“Why do you need to have your art in a small coffee shop?” Asking after a second. “I mean – if you have shows and everything.”

“Just always looking for something new,” he shrugged. “And the gallery is tiny. I technically work there actually, with a few friends.”

“How do you technically work somewhere?”

“I help out as an art prep,” he explained, propping his grocery basket down on the ground by his feet. “It’s probably the least glamorous job you could have at a gallery. It’s just putting up and taking down exhibitions. Measuring where screws go, that kind of thing.”

You only nodded, still a bit unsure of how he fully didn’t work there.

“They don’t usually need the extra help, so more times than most I’m not needed.” He shrugged, likely reading your confusion.

“Okay,” you nodded again. “You know, there might be other cafés around that could help you out as well.”

You watched his eyebrows rise, smile growing. “Are you trying to get rid of me?”

“No,” laughing, feeling nearly nervous. “Just trying to help out a local artist.”

“Well,” he bent down, picking up his basket. “Thank you. And I guess you’ll have to see my work another time.”

Watching the hint of a sly smile grow on his lips, mirroring it in your own expression. “I guess so.”

There was a pause in conversation. “Are you –” he motioned to the basket perched on your arm. “Are you all done? I was just heading to pay.”

“I – uh,” having the bad habit of never making a list when you shopped, you didn’t really know when to stop with your groceries.

“Yeah I’m all done. I just want to grab a few more fruits.” Mumbling as you glanced around, eyes widening at the prices of the berries.

Harry nodded, as he took as small step back. Not moving from where he stood, waiting as you grabbed a small bunch of bananas. You silently wandered past the sections of citrus fruits, picking up some lemons before deciding that should be enough for your shop today.

Harry followed patiently; at first you hadn’t realized that he was staying back for you so the both of you could head out to checkout together.

“All done,” you smiled at him, feeling oddly endeared that he had waited for you.

Walking side by side to the register, placing your items on the conveyor belt with a divider between you and Harry. After paying and bagging your groceries, you were both strolling out into the heavy evening air, moving your sunglasses from the top of your head down to cover your eyes.

“I’m going this way, where are you headed?” He pointed down the street. The sun was casting an orange glow over the building, making them shine golden.

Turning to Harry, letting your eyes skim over him just the slightest bit. He was wearing loose blue jeans that looked worn, a wide hole on the right knee. A white shirt with light blue writing you didn’t get a chance to read, was loosely tucked in. He always seemed to be nicely dressed, even though all the outfits were seemingly casual.

He also had what looked like a hair clip holding some of his hair out from his face, sitting on the top of his head. You had never seen anyone wear their hair like that, and you were finding yourself a bit curious to how he even thought of doing that in the first place.

“I’m headed that way as well, for a bit.” You replied, adjusting the strap of your bag over your shoulder. “I live like fifteen minutes away.”

“We’re close to your work,” Harry glanced at you from the corner of his eye, as you both started walking down the street together.

“Yeah,” you grinned. “It’s nice, living so close to work. It’s only a little walk, no need for a drive or transit.”

“That’s good,” he nodded from next to you. “You’re lucky. I’ve had to lug my paintings on the train a few times, it isn’t the most graceful thing.”

“I know you said you wouldn’t show me a picture of your art,” you started, curiosity getting the best of you. “But can you tell me what kind of paintings?”

He was quiet for a second. “Big ones.”

That was all he said for a moment, and you thought that he was done speaking until he cleared his throat again. “With big colours. I like to uh – I get inspired by just almost, anything that catches my eye, if that makes sense. It comes out in like, big colours and shapes.”

You couldn’t really picture what he meant, but you nodded anyway.

“Like,” he continued. “Think of anything you enjoy, or find nice or just have any feeling towards.”

“I –” you weren’t sure what he was asking of you. “I don’t know.”

He laughed, glancing over at you with a wide smile. “It could be anything. Just, first thing that comes to mind.”

Pausing again, before answering. “I like walking along the water. I just – uh, I don’t know, by the docks. I like the smell of the air. Its like, the diesel mixed with something, I don’t know, it’s probably bad for you but. I like it.”

“What colours does it make you think of?”

That oddly made sense. “Blue. Like –” looking around for a blue that properly described the one you had in mind. Finding nearly the same colour on an awning across the street, stopping to point at it. “Like that blue.”

It was a deep but bright colour, darker than a royal blue. It made you think of the way the sky met the water, on a bright sunny day. It made you think of boats that lined the docks, and the smell of the old wood under your feet as you walked along.

You turned back to face Harry. “Is that too obvious of an answer?”

Laughing again, he shook his head. “Its whatever you feel, there are no wrong answers.”

“So what about it?” You asked, once you started walking again. “What about the blue –like, what about the colour that you think of have to do with your art practice?”

“Well,” he paused, eyes facing forward. “I take inspiration from that; I take whatever shape or colour or person or just, whatever. And then I paint it.”

“Okay,” you drew you the word. “Still would help to see your actual paintings though.”

“You could’ve,” he teased. “Missed out on that.”

“Sorry – oh,” you paused, stopping at the corner of the street where you were turning right. “I’m going this way.”

“Okay,” he stopped next to you. “Oh! Are you working tomorrow?”

You bit back your smile. “No, I have two days off in a row actually. I’ll be back on Saturday.”

He smiled, sun beaming behind him. “I’ll see you then. And hey have a good time off.”

“Thank you,” you hummed, waving by to him with your free hand as you turned in the street.

You didn’t know what it was about Harry. He had an energy, if you will, around him that for some reason set you in a good mood. You had also never really struck up any kind of conversation with a customer outside of work like that, other than the few times you had run into Dani, but that didn’t really count.

Turning around to glance at him, seeing him walk in the opposite direction from you. Unable to help feeling slightly curious about the customer who you were quickly getting to know.

Here !

Reading Mae’s text, buzzing her in and unlocking your front door as well, sending her a quick text to come up.

You had spent the entire day doing laundry and tidying up, grabbing the errands that you had forgotten last night. Your apartment had gotten messy over the past couple of weeks, clothes littering the floor of your room as your ever-growing problem of lacking proper storage continued.

So happy that you had two days off in a row, a luxury. You could spend the first day tidying and getting everything done, and the second day doing something fun.

And now after a day of getting your life together, you had your best friend since college, Mae, coming over to make some dinner.

“Hi!”

Hearing her voice call through your small third floor studio, as she let herself in and locked the door behind her. You followed the sound of her voice, watching as she emerged from around the wall and into the kitchen where you were searching for a bottle of wine.

“It’s so clean in here.” She was glancing around, looking at your empty-of-dishes sink and the put away pile of books that usually sat on your table.

“It’s always clean in here,” you smiled at her, finding the wine you were looking for.

“Sure,” she smiled, keeping her laugh at bay as she knew that really wasn’t the truth.

“How was work?”

“Good,” she sighed, dropping her bag on the table, eyeing the bottle of wine you carried. “I think I’m finally getting Jules to like me. Or at least not hate me.”

“I told you, I doubt she ever hated you,” you replied, knowing all about the partner at the firm that was giving her a tough time.

Having met Mae your first year of college; although the two of you didn’t really get to know each other and get close until the second year. She majored in political science, along with you, except that she now just finished up law school and started working at a law firm.

You had always envied those who knew exactly what they wanted their path to be. Whether that path changed or not, you still wanted to have something to work towards.

Mae had always wanted to go into law, with a specialty in environmental policy and that was exactly what she was doing. You, on the other hand, had no idea what to do after getting your degree. Not applying for grad school unlike the majority of your friends, knowing that you would just be wasting your time and money with more school.

You just never really figured out what it was you wanted to do after. It wasn’t so much that you found yourself stuck; it was just that you knew that there was something missing –that life had to have more to it.

“I know,” she sighed, following you to your couch as you carried two glasses in one hand and the wine in the other. “I just feel like she’s been giving me a tough time – a tougher time than the other associates.”

“I mean,” you paused, opening the bottle. “She’s got to know how smart you are. I doubt that she makes anyone work as hard as you, if she doesn’t think you could handle it.”

“I know, you’re right,” she watched as you poured a generous amount of wine into both glasses, before passing her one of them. “And she did tell me that I was her favourite associate to go to.”

“Oh my god,” Mae was always selling herself short. “She very much never hated you.”

“Mm, I know,” Mae repeated, taking a sip of her wine, a smile now on her face. “Anyway, how about you? How’s work?”

“Same,” you shrugged.

There were never big things to report from work, especially to someone who didn’t particularly understand what it meant when a customer would order something ridiculous, or would return their drink because they thought it would be different. “I’m trying to remember crazy customer’s… oh!”

“I had a woman get mad at me yesterday because a man cut in front of her in line – she said that I should’ve been watching the door to see the order of who was coming in.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Mae laughed. “God I really don’t miss working customer service, and having to deal with entitled people like that.”

“It’s the heat,” you pointed to your open window. “Makes people dumber. I know I say this every year, but I swear every summer customers get worse.”

“And oh God,” you continued. “I was also closing with Erinne and she just is the slowest when she cleans the outside. I hate to be too pushy but like – I mean technically I’m her boss, right? I just feel like everything I say to her goes out her head.”

“That’s annoying,” Mae nodded, nearly halfway through her wine. “I know you don’t want to be that manager but you have every right to tell her off.”

“I know,” you took your own sip of wine, smacking your lips together at the slightly sweet flavour. “But I just remember at my old job, when my coworker became the manager and I never really took him seriously.”

“Okay but you’ve been manager ever since you started – and have been there way longer than she has.”

“I just feel almost if I got harsh with her? I’ve never really really gotten mad at anyone.” You thought it over. “But honestly, work is good. It really is the best café I’ve ever worked at.”

It had been too long since the two of you had got a whole evening just the two of you. It was lovely, to say the least.

“Oh! Didn’t you have a date last weekend? How was it?”

You shook your head. “It wasn’t anything, I ended up cancelling.”

“What?” Mae shifted, her legs up on the couch as she turned to face you. “Why?”

Biting your lips together, not really having any true reason for cancelling the date. “I don’t know – I wasn’t that excited in the first place, and he just kind of had an off-putting vibe. We were supposed to go out after my shift was over but it was also just an exhausting day.”

The date would have been with a coworker of Mae’s, one who she had briefly introduced you to but that she didn’t know well herself, as they didn’t directly work together.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Maybe I shouldn’t have …?”

“Don’t be,” you shook your head, voice light. “Not your fault at all, I just really wasn’t feeling it.”

Your mind drifted, having nearly forgotten about the date that you cancelled over the weekend. You had no energy for it, and no energy to force yourself to like someone you already were sure you wouldn’t hit it off with.

“I get that,” she nodded. “If you don’t feel it you don’t. No use in wasting everyone’s time with someone you’re not excited about.”

“Mm,” you hummed, finishing off your wine. “Though. There is this guy…”

You tried to stop your lips from turning into a smile, hiding half your face in your glass. Mae shifted next to you, waiting for you to continue your story as she knew that look on your face. “Yeah?”

“I don’t know,” you sighed, placing down your glass on the coffee table in front of the couch. “It’s not really anything. He’s been coming into my work a lot lately, flirting with me – or at least I’m pretty sure he is.”

“Oh I’m sure he is,” she nodded. “All your customers are in love with you.”

“They are not,” you laughed. “I’m just good at my job.”

“Has he ever been there when I’ve been in?”

“No,” you shook your head. “I don’t think so. He started coming in a few weeks ago – maybe like a month ago? He wanted to know how he could get his art up on the walls.”

“His art?”

Mae placed her now emptied glass next to yours on the coffee table, as you nodded. “He’s an artist.”

“How old is he?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know, around our age, I think. Like 25, 26?”

“What’s his name? I want to see if I can find his Instagram.” She briefly stood, going to grab her phone that was sitting next to her bag on your kitchen counter. Soon returning to sit next to you, unlocking her phone.

“Harry – I don’t know his last name.” You told her. “I don’t know, he kind of seems like he wouldn’t have one.”

Mae glanced up at you as you repositioned yourself next to her so that you could peer over her shoulder. “He’s an artist and it’s 2020. I’m sure he has one. Plus, I’m sure it’s on public.”

You watched her type in ‘Harry’ into the Instagram explore search bar, the simplest of tasks that of course brought her results inconclusive as he didn’t know people she knew.

“Do you know anything else?” She asked, after looking at the profiles of the first ‘Harry’s’ that the search result brought up.

“No,” you thought for a second. “Oh! One second.”

You remembered the small slip of paper he had given you, with the name of the gallery that he had art up at. It might be another dead end, but it was all you had.

“Here,” you called, after finding the small crumpled slip at the bottom of your bag. “He had some art at this gallery.”

Watching over Mae’s shoulder as she grabbed the slip from you, typing in the name of the gallery. Easily finding their Instagram page, scrolling through the first few pictures for anything that would help her search.

“Is this him?” She spoke after a moment, calling your attention away from the wine that you were searching for again and back to her phone.

You squinted at her screen, watching her thumb swipe over a series of photos, one of which had an image of Harry. He was standing next to two paintings, ones you assumed were his. His hands were behind his back, small smile on his face with some baggy white pants and a loose shirt tucked into the waistband, and the same scuffed Vans he always wore.

“Yeah, that’s him,” you hummed, watching as Mae tapped the picture to see if he was tagged in it.

Success in seeing that he was, going over to his page. Mae was right, it was public.

She scrolled for a bit, going past rows of what you assumed was his art. Some fully finished paintings, some close ups, some sketches in pencil crayon. She stopped once she found a picture, three rows down, of him standing in the sunshine with yellow tinted sunglasses on, an open sketchbook held up in his hands.

Tapping on the picture, enlarging it on her screen as she scrolled down a bit to read the caption. “This is him?”

You nodded again. “Yes.”

She glanced away from her phone, up to meet your eyes. Saying your name quickly, with a little laugh. “He’s so cute. I thought you said all the guys who hit on you at work were old and gross.”

“I mean,” you slid in to sit next to her. “They are. He’s not really hitting on me though. I just kind of have the feeling he’s into me, you know how it is? I don’t know.”

She nodded. “Usually when you suspect it, it’s true though, isn’t it? Flirt with him, see what happens.”

You nodded, lip between your teeth, knowing that she was right. Mae glanced back at her phone, before handing it over to you so that you could further inspect his Instagram. “And seriously, he’s really fucking cute.”

She got up from next to you, tapping your thigh with her now free hand. “I’m going to chop veggies for dinner, you keep looking.”

You only laughed absentmindedly at her comment, although not protesting as she moved to start making dinner for the night. Swiping away from the picture of Harry, scrolling through his feed. Most pictures were of his art, some single pictures, some had multiple one’s together in the post.

Reading over his username, harrystylesart. You briefly wondered if that was his real name or just one he used.

Looking at recent posts first, seeing images of pages out of a sketchbook, orange and red shapes drawn across a white page. Swiping through the post, you saw another image of the same book, this time the picture taken from a bit further away. You immediately recognized the slightly worn wooden table, and corner of the familiar little blue mug.

The drawing itself was of something nondescript, the same oranges and reds, this time with blue outlined as well. You tried to make out what it was, but assumed it was just mindless sketching. Your recalled what Harry had told you, about how he liked to use a lot of colour – this must be his process.

Still, you felt oddly happy that he had taken these pictures at your work.

You kept up with your snooping, looking through pictures of his paintings. He was right, about them being big and colourful. Some seemed to have just odd shapes, some had people, some seemed to include places or buildings.

You kind of wished that you understood them, that you knew why he was making these. All his captions were of very few words, most with no captions at all.

That being said, you found yourself genuinely really liking them. Some in particular, just held a specific feeling that you really enjoyed. You didn’t know anymore than that, you just liked to look at them.

“Find anything else?” Mae asked you, once you had shut off her phone and joined her in the kitchen.

“Nothing big,” you hummed, grabbing a pan from under the counter. “I don’t know, I’ll see. Like I said, it’s just a suspicion. Maybe I’m also a bit bored, it has been a while since I’ve been excited about someone.”

Mae nodded along with you, waving her knife in the air as if to point to you. “That’s true too, it is really fun when you start to have a little thing – I almost miss that.”

She had been in a relationship for nearly three years now. “You do not,” you scoffed.

“Okay,” she paused. “Maybe not. Dating is fun but also kind of awful. But seriously, it is nice to be excited about someone.”

“Never said I was excited,” you hummed, though you knew she saw right through you.

“Okay,” she drew out the word, clearly unconvinced. “But remember that last guy you dated? He was no fun. What was his name?”

“Ross,” you wrinkled your nose at the memory. “Yeah he wasn’t great.”

Mae nodded. “You never even told me about him until the end.”

You had a habit of not always telling your friends about your dating life. Sometimes you would fill them in on every gory detail, and other time you would briefly mention that you started seeing someone but it had fizzled.

It was also very telling about how the dates had been – one’s you were excited about were usually heard of right away.

To Mae, it seemed like you dated a lot, but that was also because she had mostly been in longer term relationships. You thought you dated a normal amount -- you often found yourself saying yes, when people were interested because you told yourself that you never knew what could come of it.

“I’ll come in to your work soon,” Mae continued, changing the subject. “I haven’t been in a while, like to properly sit down. Plus, I want to see this guy.”

“I’m back on Saturday, working right through until Thursday.”

Mae thought over he own schedule. “I have Monday off, and it’s usually calmer then too right?”

“Yeah, it should be quiet. Monday,” you paused, remembering there was something particular about that day. “Oh, I’m closing alone then. Everyone has been taking their vacation at once. But you can stay with me for closing if you want, we could get dinner afterwards.”

“Perfect! I’ll bring all my work to get done, and yes dinner sounds lovely.”

The bliss of your days off ended, and the chaos of the weekend shifts followed. The weekend was always a bit crazy – sometimes you lucked out and it was oddly empty but this was no lucky weekend.

By the time Monday rolled around, you were already tired. And it was only the third day in a stretch of a full week of work with no days off.

At least you were working the closing, offering you a small chance to sleep in as you didn’t have to get into work until the early afternoon, although the downside of today’s shift however, was that you were going to be closing alone.

Mae came into work with you, bringing stacks of paperwork with her to the café to work on.

It was about an hour after Mae had arrived, that you saw Harry coming through the side window. He was just reaching to open up the door, and you were trying to catch Mae’s attention to subtly tell her that the guy she had helped you find online was about to come in.

When Harry walked in, he saw you walking over to the front corner and sit yourself on a chair across from someone else.

He kept walking, seeing your attention pulled away as it was obvious you really knew the person you were chatting with. He heard your laugh ring out through the café from behind him, as he spotted his open table in the back and situated himself there.

Not going up to the counter until he saw you behind it again, waiting a couple minutes as you seemed to be taking a tiny break with who he assumed was your friend. Eventually though, he slowly walked to the front until he was standing across from you at the counter.

“Hi,” you called, from where you stood a bit further back, rearranging clean cups under the counter. “What can I get for you today?”

“Over ice, thank you.”

He watched you pause with a little nod, as you didn’t bother to put the order into the system right away and instead moved further back to the espresso machine to make his drink. He left some change on the counter by the till, sliding it far enough in so that you couldn’t miss it.

He walked around the counter until he was on the other side of the espresso machine, seeing half of you hidden to him as you prepared his drink.

“Sorry if that was weird, in the grocery store the other day.”

He watched you peek out from around the machine. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “Must be kind of odd to see a regular from your work outside of that setting.”

“A bit,” you smiled. “But not that much. You’d be surprised by how often I run into customers.”

“Really?” His eyebrows rose. “What’s the worst place you’ve even seen a regular?”

“Nothing really that bad. Sometimes it is a bit weird when I’m at their place of work. Like there’s a woman who bartends at Corner Stone, who also comes here a lot – its like we’re each other’s regulars.”

He saw your eyebrows furrow slightly, as if trying to think of some other occurrences you had had outside of work. “Oh! This doesn’t really count as seeing someone, but I’ve found customers on Tinder before.”

“Really? Ever match with any of them?” He bit his lips together, feeling the hint of a smirk on his lips.

“God no. I never used it that much anyway.” You said, laughing lightly. He briefly wondered if you had done it on purpose, mentioning something like that to him. But he had to tell himself that you were really just answering his question.

You had just finished up making his drink, placing it on the counter in front of him and tapping it lightly against the marble as you usually did.

“Why do you always do that?”

“What?” You blinked back at him.

“You always tap the cup on the counter like that.”

“Oh,” you smiled, small shrug in your shoulders. “It’s a habit. It’s to knock out any little air bubbles from when the espresso pours. If the pour is really smooth, there shouldn’t really be any. It doesn’t matter as much when it’s over ice though, since the ice gets in the way.”

“You do this with all drinks?”

“No,” you replied. “I mean with hot milk drinks you need to smooth out the air from the milk bubbles. And before preparing them you also tap out the milk, and the espresso – again if there are bubbles.”

“All about presentation, isn’t it?”

“Exactly,” he warmed at the laugh that shook your chest. “When it looks nice it tastes nice too.��

He took a small sip of the cold drink. “I don’t think you’ve ever made me a bad cup of coffee.”

“Glad to hear that.”

The two of you both turned your heads at the same time, at the sound of the door closing shut. A group of three women had just come in, chatting loudly as they all made their way to the front counter.

“I got to –” you pointed your thumb in their direction.

“Of course,” he nodded, watching as you turned away from him. Your hand moved down to your back pocket, tapping over your bum lightly as if searching for something in your pocket. He saw you pull out that red pen you always carried, twirling it between your index and middle finger as you went to stand by the till.

Coffee in hand, Harry walked around the counter and back to his to the table where he had left his things.

You eyed Mae while the group wanting to order continued to read the menu, watching her mouth something you could barely make out. She tilted her chin up, nodding her head towards where Harry had gone to sit.

Shaking your head with a light laugh, not sure what she was trying to tell you. You didn’t have time to find you either, as the woman standing closest to the till interrupted you silent conversation. “We’re ready to order.”

Not getting the change to talk to Harry again until a few hours later, right before closing. You saw him standing by the counter, empty cup in hand that he gently placed into the nearly overflowing buss bin.

“Thank you,” you hummed, walking past him on the opposite side of the counter as you started sweeping the inside. There seemed to be more grounds on the floor today than usual.

“Not a problem,” he grinned. “You seem to be everywhere tonight, I swear I just saw you going back to the washrooms.”

“A lot more to do tonight, since it’s just me closing.” You emptied out the dustbin into the garbage can, deciding that you were done sweeping for the day – hoping that the muck left over on the floor would come out with the mop.

“What do you mean it’s just you?”

You glanced around, as if you hadn’t been alone this entire time. Grabbing the dish bin that was sitting between the two of you, walking to grab whatever was left to be cleaned. Harry followed your motions, from the other side of the counter.

“I’m working alone…” you started slowly. “Usually we have two people close together, but we’re short staffed right now. Today and next week it’s just me.”

“That’s no fun,” he said, looking around and seeing nearly all empty tables now.

“Closing isn’t usually that fun,” you laughed, gathering everything that could be sent through the dishwasher. “It just takes a lot longer when I’m alone.”

“I can imagine cleaning must take a while.” He glanced around, looking at all the floor space that needed to be swept then mopped.

“It’s okay,” you shrugged, grabbing your buss bin. “I get paid by the hour, not on salary so I’ll get a bit of overtime in there.”

He only nodded, and your eyes flicked over to the clock hanging on the wall across from you. “I mean this in the nicest way possible but we are now closed.”

Harry followed your eyes to look up at the clock as well, before glancing back at you. “Are you kicking me out?”

“Yes, I am,” nodding with a chuckle, watching him walk over to where his things still sat on a table, gathering them up. Moving the dish bin to the back to fill up the dishwasher, wiping your wet hands on your jeans to go lock the door after Harry leaves.

“You know I’m not the last one here,” he said to you from where he stood, after your reappeared from the back room. He pointed over to where Mae sat at a front table, bent over an array of papers. She didn’t really seem like she was reading them though, her eyes briefly landing on yours when you looked over.

“She gets to stay with me,” you grinned, walking out from behind the counter. “We’re grabbing dinner after.”

“Nice of you to not make her wait outside.”

You laughed, walking to the front door to hold it open as the last thing to do before ushering Harry outside.

You hadn’t noticed he had come up behind you, arm brushing past you. His hand wrapped around yours on the door handle, taking you by surprise the slightest bit, as he was suddenly so close behind you.

“Oh –” muttered under your breath, taking a step back to move away, but your back only hit Harry’s chest as he had you more or less boxed in. “Sorry.”

Your hand slipped away from between the metal of the handle and the warmth of Harry’s hand, trying to slip out from your closeness to the door to give him space to walk out. Slightly propping it open, deciding to move outside and hold it open from the outside.

Glancing up at him, feeling warmth creep up your skin at the awkwardness of the moment, meeting his eyes with your lips bit between your teeth.

“Sorry,” Harry repeated to you, pushing the door all the way open to walk out. You didn’t miss the red tint on his cheeks, and the way his eyes flicked away from yours so quickly you barely got to hold his gaze.

“Have a good rest of your day,” you smiled, giving him a small wave as you decided to quickly move past whatever moment you had found yourself stuck in.

“I’ll see you,” he flashed that wide smile of his, showing off the dimples that appeared as he brought a hand up to move his sunglasses from the top of his head to lay perched on his nose.

You waved when he turned away, walking down the street away from where you were now closing the door and locking it shut.

Mae who had risen from where she was sitting was now slowly walking over to the counter, leaning her elbows on top of it while she waited for you to join her side.

She had a small smile playing at the corner of her mouth, bottom lip lodged between her teeth as if it was nearly impossible for her to keep her mouth shut.

You only laughed at her expression, shaking your head slightly when you walked past her, giving her a little swat with the back of your hand.

“What?” She calls out after you’ve left her alone again, heading to the back to load the last bit of dishes into the dishwasher. “I didn’t say a word.”

“I know what you’re thinking!” You called as you rinsed off old mugs, the traces of coffee now dried to the ceramic.

Double checking that there was nothing left to be sent through, closing the door and pressing the button for the hot water and soap to start cleaning the dishes for the last time of the day.

Emerging out in the open again, on the opposite side of the counter from Mae. You knew there was still mopping left to do outside, but you wanted to get the cash out done first and out of the way.

Mae was silent again, unmoving from her spot as she watched you dump out the coins from the tip jar as you began to lay them out to easily count them. You concentrated for a bit, making small piles of four with your quarters.

“He’s really into you,” she finally said, waiting for you to look back up at her.

You kept your head dipped down, eyes on the counter where all the coins and bills sat to be counted. Biting your lips together as you again found yourself unable to help the slight smile building.

“I know,” you finally uttered, sending her a quick glance with a laugh at her expression.

“He’s even better looking in person.”

“I know,” you repeated, eyes focused downwards at the coins that you were quickly counting. “Now shush! I don’t want to lose count.”

It was the same thing the following week, as it always was. You had your days off, got groceries, ran errands. The weekend was crazy, that was again to be expected especially with the particularly nice weather. Dani had been away, so you hadn’t seen him in about a week.

The week had been just as busy as the previous one, the hot days of late July making more and more people come in for some nice cooled iced drinks. It was a bit crazy to you, how quickly your weeks went by when all you would do was look forward to your days off.

The following Monday, it was nice to have your slow and steady shift again. You had to close alone once more, but this would be the last time as some staff were going to be back from their summer vacation so you would be fully staffed once again.

The afternoon had gone by very slowly, nearly too slow, that you had just been mindlessly cleaning all day. It was good, in a way, because it meant that there would be less cleaning to be done later that evening once the doors were locked and you would be left to finish up alone.

Another commonality with your Monday shift is that Harry was routinely there. Situated in that back corner table he always seemed to get, bag on the chair across from him and things spread out in front of him. You had been too preoccupied with all your reorganizing and cleaning to properly chat with him today. But a small part of you also wanted to see if he would come to you.

Nothing really interesting happened, though, until you were getting ready to start even more closing cleaning and you were passing by his table with a broom in hand.

Sweeping under the empty table across from him first, before moving closer to where he was sitting and letting your eyes wander from the floor to the table, catching a glance at his sketchbook.

It was similar to what you had seen on his Instagram, only this time he had several drawings that were distinctly people.

“Hey,” he suddenly spoke, pulling your attention away from his book and over to where he was now looking at you. “I can see you snooping.”

“Oops,” you shrugged, feigning sheepishness. “I told you, I like to try and figure out the lives of customers. That comes with looking over their shoulder at what they do.”

“Have you figured out the lives of everyone sitting here now?” You didn’t miss how he changed the subject.

“Of course.”

“I think I have too,” he hummed, sitting back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest as he gazed up at you.

“I see most of these people a few times a week – I think I have a bit more dirt on them than you.” Placing your broom to lean against the wall behind you, making sure it didn’t fall before crossing your arms over your chest.

The shop was nearly empty by this point, but you knew that almost every customer currently sitting at a table had been in here at least once a week.

“What about those two?” He pointed with his chin, nodding his head in the direction of the couple sitting in the back, across from where Harry was. “Do you think its a date, like a new relationship? Or a longer term thing.”

“Oh,” you hummed, having seen those two at least twice a week for the past couple months. “They’ve been dating for at least a year. Minimum.”

“Okay,” he drew out the word, nodding as he agreed with you. “What about those two?” The only other couple was across the shop on the other side, sitting on the big plushy chairs that Dani always sat at. You had never seen them before.

“I would say,” you paused, trying to observe their body language as you stood back with your hands in the back pockets of your jeans. “Second or third date. They’re still sitting across from each other and have nothing else with them to work on – but they seem just touchy enough. Coffee was probably a last-minute idea, but for sure not the first date.”

Looking back at Harry, finding him still watching you. “You really thought about that one, huh.”

“I told you –” eyes flicking back to the couple in question. “I like to figure out people’s lives. Seeing people on coffee dates is always fun. They’re usually always first or new dates, or in long-term relationships.”

“Coffee dates are easy first dates,” Harry murmured, nodding his head. “Wouldn’t be surprised if you saw a lot of them.”

You thought it over for a second. “I guess I do, yeah. Easy for nervous couples.”

“Can’t imagine you like getting coffee on a first date.”

“Not really,” you said, not missing a beat. Eyes slightly narrowing on him, lips curving, as you silently wondered where he was going with this conversation. “Unless they don’t know what my job is.”

“What about just getting coffee – like not as a first date – is that okay?”

You bit your lips together, eyes briefly leaving his. “Of course.”

He smiled. “Done that recently?”

Was he trying to see if you were single? “No, not recently,” you hummed, eyes flicking back to his.

You only broke his gaze for a second as you watched him pull his bottom lip between his teeth, grin breaking the corners of his mouth. Neither of you spoke for a moment, eyes locked in a little staring contest.

He was the first to look away, clearing his throat as he angled his head towards the front door. “I think I’m keeping you from customers.”

Your attention was pulled away from him, watching a group of four walk in through the door, glancing up at the menu hanging behind the register.

Shooting him one more quick look, before sauntering off to go slid in behind the counter. Hands still placed in the back pocket of your jeans, grabbing the pen that was in one of them as you went to take their order.

After that group there seemed to be another, and another. It wasn’t busy, per se, just steady. And since you were alone, it gave the feeling of being a bit busier since there was no one else there to help you pull shots, or take orders.

Still, slowly customers petered out and there were only a few people left sitting around the café. You had already cleaned the majority of the espresso machine, cleaning out the portafilters and clearing the grounds that collected at the bottom.

Dishes had been constantly running, and you just grabbed the broom to start sweeping the emptier half of the café so that once you were closed, the cleaning wouldn’t take long.

“Closing soon,” you hummed, as you passed by Harry’s table with the broom in hand once more.

“I know, I know, don’t worry.” He put down his pencil, his pause in movement causing you to stop by his table for a second. “You’re closing alone again today, aren’t you?”

“I am,” you breathed, eyes flicking to the clock.

“And you don’t have you friend here to keep you company like last time.”

“I don’t,” you bit your lips together.

He shifted a bit in his chair, feet flat on the ground with one arm placed over the back of the chair as he twisted his body to face you. “Do you, uh –” he paused, flipping his pencil between his fingers. “Do you need any company?”

“What are you suggesting?” You felt the corner of your lips perk to a sly smile.

“If you want,” he quickly started, sitting up straighter. “I could keep you company.”

There was another pause, neither of you speaking for a moment.

But you found yourself nodding to his request. “It’s not that interesting, just me running around cleaning, and counting coins. But I mean – if you want to.”

He nodded along with you. “’Course I do. Plus. I really like this space to work in, it’s inspiring and all that.”

“Okay,” you slowly spoke the word. “But you’re going to have to lift your feet later so I can sweep under your table.”

“Will do.”

You moved past him after that, head still lowered as you swept under the tables across from where Harry sat, moving your little pile of dust and dirt into the dustbin. Busying yourself, since you actually were busy, trying not to smile after your conversation with Harry.

Soon you were ushering the rest of the customers out, the clock hitting seven and the doors being locked. You brought in the patio furniture after fully sweeping and mopping one side of the café, the side that Harry was not sitting at.

The inside cleaning was all nearly done, beans put away, espresso machine fully cleaned and counter wiped down. You were just starting to sweep the second half of the shop, nearly done with the cleaning before you could cash out.

“I can help, if you need.”

Harry had remained fairly quiet after the doors were locked with the two of you still inside. Just as he said, he was still perched over his table with pencils in hand and book open in front of him. You were too busy to really stop by and see what he was doing, assuming he was working on those sketches you had seen when you were spying on his Instagram.

“I’m not paying you,” you teased, glancing at him from the corner of your eye. “But seriously, you don’t have to.”

“I can – if you want. I’m bugging you enough, may as well help.”

“I thought you wanted to feel the space, or something? Getting inspired? But really – it’s okay. I’m nearly done here and just need to cash out.”

He paused for a second, before nodding. “Okay, okay. Well I’m here if you need me.”

Conversation stopped there again, for a while at least. You cleaned the washroom, finished mopping all floors and dumped out the dirty water. After all the big cleaning was done, you made yourself a nice cold iced tea in a to go cup that you would take home afterwards.

Grabbing a chair from the back room and bringing it up to the till to sit down while you cashed out, dumping out all the coins and bills from the tip jar first. Counting in silence, not having noticed how Harry had moved tables and was now seated across from you instead of in the back.

“It’s different after closing.”

You glanced up from where you had rows of quarters lined on the counter, trying to not loose your count. “I mean,” you spoke, only after writing down the amount you calculated. “It’s the same – but calmer. Or sometimes more stressful, depending on the day, and who I close with. It’s for sure not as nice as being here alone in the morning.”

You saw Harry nod. “I really like the mornings.”

“You mentioned that,” you hummed, beginning the dreaded task of counting up the smaller coins.

He fell quiet again, watching you quickly move the coins from the counter to the register, counting under your breath while you worked. He didn’t want to distract you and have to start all over again, instead deciding to pull his attention back to his sketch book.

Flipping his pencil between his fingers a couple times, listening to the coins clacking overlapped with the soft sounds of whatever song was playing – he didn’t know it. Finding himself drawing small things he saw around the shop; the way the mugs were stacked, the way the leaves on a plant fell to one side, the way there always seemed to be umbrellas shoved in the vase out front even though it hadn’t rained in weeks.

And then he found his eyes falling back to you; the line that formed between your brows as you focused on counting, the way you sat with one leg tucked under the other, the small movement of your lips as you spoke under your breath.

He hadn’t fully realized he was colouring in the curve of your cheeks until he caught himself unable to stop looking up at you. Using the only pencil crayons he brought with him, colouring you in with two shades of blue.

Starting your outline over again and again, each time focusing on a different part of you that he could see. Squinting as he drew the soft curve of your eyelashes, and then the rise of your hairline, and the dip of skin from your neck until the soft green colour of your shirt started below your collarbones.

After a couple minutes in silence, your sudden movement from where you were sitting brought his attention back up to you, watching as you walked away from the till to the back, quickly coming back with a little baggy in hand.

He shut his sketchbook with the pencils still resting between the pages, rising to his feet with a little push back of his chair. The noise brought your attention to him for a second, eyes flicking between him and your task at hand.

“You did that fast,” he hummed, leaning his elbows down on the counter across from you. You were bagging the counted money, writing down the amounts of the day. Harry tried to not let his eyes linger on your hands. Not wanting to seem like he was spying on how much money you had made in a day, when he was really watching the way you were gently gripping the pen that was being swiveled between your fingertips.

“You learn a few tricks over the years to make it go faster,” you murmured, zipping shut your baggies that would be placed in the safe for the night.

Once you were all done, the only thing left was one last load of dishes to run through before you could close for the night.You began to wait for the dishes to clean, you were suddenly aware of how quiet the space was around you and Harry, the soft music of Mazzy Star creating a dreamy atmosphere.

You also realized you had no real reason for letting Harry stay past closing – it wasn’t like the two of you were doing anything afterwards. But you also knew that you were maybe expecting something, and just maybe the two of you would be doing something together once you were off work.

Bringing the dish rack filled with clean steaming dishes to the front counter, letting them drip dry for a bit before you started to put them away.

Harry was tentatively walking over to where you were, not completely crossing the invisible line that separated the inside to the outside of the café, but pushing it enough.

“Sure you don’t need a hand?” He asked, once he was leaning against the counter that the dishes were sitting on.

“I told you, I can’t pay you for any of it,” you joked. “But really, it’s okay. I’m nearly done.”

He only nodded, watching as you looped your fingers through the handles of mugs to carry more of them at once.

You wondered really what Harry had to gain from watching you finish up your closing shift. You knew he said he liked the space of the café, that it inspired him. Whether that was bullshit or not, you didn’t mind his company.

Still slightly curious about how he was spending all his time at your work, and how he didn’t seem to have anything else going on at the moment other than watching you put away still steaming hot dishes.

“I know you said you kind of work at that gallery,” you started. “But I mean – and I don’t mean this in a bad way but, don’t you have another job? Like not a 9 to 5 but, I don’t know. You’re here weekday’s and weekends, sometimes early and sometimes late.”

Pausing, not sure if you were properly vocalizing the small curiosities you had about Harry. “You know I like trying to figure out the lives of customers but – I mean what do you do?”

He was silent for a bit, and a first you thought you had made a bit of an idiot of yourself but you saw the small tug at the corner of his lips, indicating a smile.

“I’ve been telling you,” he finally said, eyes gleaming when he looked at you. “I’m an artist. That is my 9 to 5. I manage to get some small jobs here and there to make some extra money, but so far I’ve been able to make a living. Get’s a bit tough sometimes but lately I’ve been managing to get a slow and steady stream of commissions.”

You felt a bit bad, nearly dumb for asking. “What kind of small jobs?”

“Well,” he leant against the counter across from you. “Some art handling at galleries. I taught a few classes, probably not very well, at a community centre. Just small things to make some money on the side. But like I said, being an artist is my 9 to 5.”

“Oh,” the word sounded so small in response. “That’s really cool. I mean that, that’s just … really cool.”

You didn’t know why you found yourself so lost for words. He had explained it to you so casually, so nonchalant about following what he wanted.

Picking up the now empty dish tray, bringing it to the back. You didn’t pay that close attention to what you were doing, quickly rinsing it out and turning off the dishwasher. Your mind was wandering, Harry’s words running through your head over and over.

Not realizing it at first, but when you dipped your head down to make sure the dishwasher was properly drained, your vision went a bit blurry. There were small tears pricking at your eyes, building at your waterline and threatening to spill over.

Quickly tilting your head back as if the tears would fall back into their ducts, dabbing the skin under your eyes with the back of your hand.

There was no real reason for the sudden tears that appeared, you knew that. It was probably a culmination of too many busy days of not enough rest. But another small voice was telling you something else, and you knew exactly why you were crying.

But for now, you couldn’t indulge your thoughts too much since you knew that would only open the gates for more tears to come. Shaking your head, pulling out your phone from your pocket to use as a makeshift mirror to make sure the whites of your eyes weren’t shining red.

Keeping your head down a bit as you walked out, avoiding Harry’s gaze. Grabbing your cup filled with iced tea you had made for yourself before cashing out, taking a long sip as if more hydration would make you look as if you hadn’t been crying.

Silently checking over that everything was all ready for the opening shift tomorrow morning. Heading to the iPad to clock out, closing the POS for the day.

“I’m all done,” you finally spoke while heading to the back room for the last time, making sure the fridge door was properly shut before grabbing your bag and keys to leave for the day.

Waiting by the alarm system when you gathered all your things, watching over your shoulder as Harry stood by the door with his own bag. Punching in the security code to set the alarm for the night, hearing the paced beeping that started and alerted the time you had to walk out and lock the door.

He propped the front door open for you, holding it open before waiting while you locked it shut, double checking it was properly closed.

“I just have to…” you muttered under your breath, heading in the opposite direction to the other side of the café. There was an emergency exit in the back, that usually remained lock but sometimes someone would unlock it and forget to close it again, so you always made sure to check.

The door didn’t budge when you pulled on it, finding it properly closed. You met up with Harry again, avoiding his gaze as you kept your eyes trained down on the pavement under your feet.

You knew there had been a big and sudden shift in your mood, but you couldn’t think of any reason to explain it so you simply remained silent.

But, you also didn’t want to start explaining why you were suddenly crying.

“Which way are you headed?”

“Uhm,” you had to think for a second, although you took the same path every single day. “This way.”

Pointing ahead in the direction you would walk down before turning over to the block your apartment was on. Harry hummed next to you, beginning the walk by your side.

Remaining quiet for the first couple minutes, keeping your eyes more or less downcast. Knowing you probably didn’t have the best energy to be around right now, and not even wanting to bother with any kind of small talk.

“Are you alright?”

Lost in your own head, you had almost forgotten about Harry walking next to you in the cooling air of the city. You turned to him for a brief moment, eyes flitting over his before looking forward again.

“Yeah I – I’m just tired. Long couple of days.”

Before Harry got a chance to speak, you realized that you need to turn onto your block. “I’m going here – I’ll see you around.”

You turned the block, stopping for barely a second as Harry uttered a small “See you,” before you walked the opposite direction of him.

Pace picking up as you wanted nothing more than to be home at the moment, quickly walking the rest of the way home.

Finally closing your door behind you, not caring where your bag ended up on the floor and going to immediately crack open a window, airing out the stuffy apartment. You busied yourself with lighting a stick of sandalwood incense, letting the smoke slowly blow out the window, the smell starting to fill the room.

It wasn’t until you went to change into a sweatshirt and shorts, catching a glance of your appearance in the mirror when you suddenly felt tears well up again. Reaching for your phone, deciding that if you were going to wallow in your sudden sadness that you should have a soundtrack for it.

Pouring yourself a glass of wine, knowing you should make something to eat as well but not having the energy for it at the moment.

You only took one sip of the drink before placing it back down on the counter, feeling small tears fall from the corner of your eyes. Wiping under your face with the back of your sleeve, knowing more tears were to come.

The sudden cry had come out a bit out of no where. It sometimes was like that, the unexpected surge of tears that suddenly needed to fall from your eyes.

What surprised you, was that it was triggered by what Harry told you. Him telling you that his work as an artist was his 9 to 5 job, that he was following what he always wanted to do and was so far able to get by.

It was similar to the way you felt with Mae, sometimes. The two of you had graduated with the same degrees, but she was following her dream while you had the same job you held all throughout college. Sure, maybe the location of the job was different, and this time you were manager, but it still felt like the same job.

It wasn’t that you felt unfulfilled in life, and you did really like your job. It was just that there was sure to be more – this couldn’t be it for the rest of your life.

And the small, snarky comment from family or even customers didn’t help. You had had customers ask you if you were just working there “for now” and if it was “some place you were trying to get out of.” It was condescending really, and you always politely smiled at them and told them no, but it never helped with feeling not good enough.

So sitting with your wine, and a little cry, was very much what you needed right now.

#please share and let me know what you think <3 #and i hope everyone enjoys !!!! <33 #cb #harry styles writing #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfic

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thepodreviews · 8 years ago

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THE TOP 20 ALBUMS OF 2016

20. clipping. - Splendor & Misery

“Shoulda made the noose a little tighter cuz there ain’t nobody dead just some motherfucking riders”

Concept albums are tricky to pull off. You can either end up with a Ziggy Stardust, or with Drones. In this case, noise rap trio clipping. ended up with something totally unique. The album tells an afrofuturistic story dealing with the aftermath of a slave rebellion on a cargo ship lost deep in space. That’s all i’m willing to reveal about the story, because this is an album that has to be experienced firsthand. Frontman Daveed Diggs showcases his chops not only as an MC, but also as a fantastic storyteller, complimented perfectly by the cold, eerie electronics, which help give the album a really unsettling feel. Do not let this album slip by.

19. Weezer - The White Album

“If I was king of the world, you’d be my girl, you wouldn’t have to shed a single tear”

With an incredible return to form, Weezer make me almost want to forgive everything since the Green Album. From the moment the chorus exploded in California Kids, I knew the old Weezer I loved had finally returned. Everything that made them great is back in full force here. The clever lyrics, the catchy melodies, and of course, Rivers Cuomo shredding like nobody’s business. Here's hoping they keep it up.

18. The Body & Full of Hell - One Day You Will Ache Like I Ache

This is, by far, the single most intense musical experience I had this year. Fresh off the heels of their equally intense collaboration with Merzbow in 2014, Full of Hell joins forces with sludge metal act The Body to deliver something even more hellish and abrasive. This album effortlessly combines droning guitars, harsh noise and some incredible screamed vocals to create an overwhelming and oppressive atmosphere that makes listening to it all the way through a punishing, but ultimately rewarding experience. Definitely not one for the faint of heart.

17. The Avalanches - Wildflower

“I just want to know, what’s wrong with me? Being in love with you.”

The one nobody ever thought was ever gonna happen. After 16 years (16 years!), the legendary Avalanches finally came out of their hiding hole and delivered one of the most fun albums i've heard in a long while. The Australian trio blend together samples and, for the first time, guest appearances by the likes of Danny Brown, DOOM, Ariel Pink and even Biz Markie to create the musical equivalent of pure, unbriddled joy. This is an album to lose yourself and get lost in, while never losing a smile on your face. Welcome back guys. Now please stick around a little longer this time.

16. YG - Still Brazy

“I really got something to say: I’m the only one to make out the west without Dre”

It’s rare when an artist completely manages to change my expectations on them. YG, however managed to do this with just the first song on this album. By swithing over DJ Mustard´s boring, repetitive sound in favor of a classic West Coast G-Funk influence, the Compton rapper completely won me over. But it’s not just the production that shines in this record, but rather YG himself. He constantly switches from topic to topic, including race, politics, police brutality, even getting autobiographical in some tracks, but never does he sound like he doesn’t know what he’s talking about. All throughout the album he proves to have enough charisma and self-confidence for the listener to buy every single word he’s saying. Who even needs DJ Mustard anyways?

15. Mitski - Puberty 2

“Your mother wouldn’t approve of how my mother raised me, but I do, I think I do”

This is an airing of grievances in musical form. Very few times before has a howling guitar expressed such frustration and anger, but at the same time, such deep sadness. Mitski’s voice carries the album from moments of tenderness to those of visceral bitterweet emotion, all of them carrying the same weight and never pulling any punches, wether they be quiet or loud. And in that same bittersweet emotion, there’s always a tiny, hopeful sensation that somehow, maybe, just maybe, it’s all gonna work out in the end. Just maybe.

14. Vektor - Terminal Redux

“I think I’m losing my mind”

This is the second concept album on this list, and coincidentally, it’s also (partly) about space. But if Splendor & Misery was subtle and understated, Terminal Redux is the complete opposite. This is thrash metal taken to the extreme. From the opening seconds, the album hits the ground running and never slows down once, building towards an absolutely massive climax. The entire band brings their A-game, from the furious shredding and riffing of the guitars, to the machine gun drumming, including lead singer’s David DiSanto’s fantastic vocals. What truly amazes me about this album is the fact that, despite being so long, with various tracks reaching well beyond the 7 minute mark, it never feels tiring or repetitive. The band somehow manages to be constantly inventive and engaging throughout, including some unorthodox elements, for example the choir in the opening track. And that’s not even taking into account the album’s story, which is so insane I won’t even try to describe it. It’s an album you have to experience firsthand. Just sit down and enjoy the ride.

13. KA - Honor Killed the Samurai

“I plea to treat all just. To get what we need, we did what we must”

This might be the most bleak album of the year. Most of the songs lack a definite beat or rhythm. The instrumentals are grimy, cold, and gloomy. But KA ties it all together with some the most poetic and dense lyrics I think I’ve ever heard. The Brownsville rapper is introspective and philosophical, soundind like a weathered voice of wisdom who has lived through countless tragedies and has seen how the world around him corrupts those around him. Although his voice never rises above a grizzly monotone, he conveys the pain all of this has caused him masterfully. It’s not the usual hip hop, but it’s one of the best.

12. Preoccupations - Preoccupations

“You don’t need to say sorry for all the times when everything fell through”

The band formerly known as Viet Cong ditched nearly everything that characterized their 2015 project (the speed, the controlled sonic chaos, even the name), but they’re still inequivocally themselves. In choosing to make a slower and more reflexive album, they made moments like the long, washed-out ending to the 10-minute epic Memory make sense, instead of making it boring. Every single moment is filled with a profound feeling of loneliness that resonates in every note played by the band, and in Matt Flegel’s smoke cloud of a voice. But in the end, it all contributes to what is ultimately an incredibly mesmerizing and hypnotizing experience, and it serves to prove that order and control can hit just as hard as noise and chaos.

11. Angel Olsen - MY WOMAN

“Was it me you were thinking of? All the time when you thought of me”

Angel Olsen’s ode to, in her own words, “the complicated mess of being a woman” has a certain aura of sadness all throughout. It’s the sadness of someone who has been through just too much. Wether it’s about family, love, unfaithfulness, or unreachable standards, the end is still that same sadness. Olsen, talking from the perspective of someone who clearly knows this all too well, pours her heart and soul over this album, and it shows in the amount of sheer emotion that is put on display in the heartbreaking lyrics, or even just in her delivery of said lyrics. A single cracking of the voice carries more feeling than certain artists only hope to achieve. Sometimes the most emotional moments don’t even have any words, like in the explosive and pained climax of Shut Up Kiss Me. However, all of this emotion doesn’t alienate, but instead does the contrary, inspiring a deep sympathy that makes you come back again and again, even if you don’t share those feelings. And in the end, that is what all good music must aspire to do.

10. Nicolas Jaar - Sirens

“No hay que ver el futuro para saber lo que va a pasar”

A protest can come in many shapes and sizes. Some of them are loud and ensure that they are heard by everyone, while others are quiet and preach to whoever will hear. To chilean producer Nicolas Jaar, this concept is nothing new. Jaar, who specializes in quiet, understaded music, produced a more subtle kind of protest. Instead of dropping anvils left and right and hitting you over the head with his message, he instead talks in abstract ideas and concepts, that at first appear to be vaguely related, if at all. But then it all comes together and he lets that moment of realisation do all the talking. He even lets his signature soundscapes contribute to the mood and message of the album. It combines and contrasts many sounds, textures, instruments, even singing styles to create something unique, that’s sometimes rhythmic, sometimes hectic and formless, but always carrying the same haunting message.

9. King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard - Nonagon Infinity

“Nonagon Infinity opens the door”

King Gizzard are not a band that are afraid to experiment. Every album is dedicated to some crazy off-the-wall idea and they fully commit themselves to make it work. In the hands of any other band, it would just be a bunch of gimmicks. But in their hands, it’s an entire playground of ideas and originality. In the case of Nonagon Infinity, they have effectlively made an endless loop of an album. It has no true beginning or finishing track, and every track blends together seamlessly. It’s an insteresting concept, sure, but if this was all there was to it, this album would not be just a one-note affair, something that most people wouldn’t give a second look. Luckily, King Gizzard know this, and made the album one of the fastest and hardest-rocking albums to come out in the entirety of 2016. From the very second it begins, you’re blasted by some pf the most energetic, catchy, and just plain fun songs the band have made to this date. It’s a flurry of fuzzy guitars, groovy basslines and powerhouse drumming. And that’s the magic of King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard: they don’t make an album an endless loop just to say they made an endless album, they make an amazing album, one that you could listen to over and over again, that just so happens to be an endless loop. That’s why it could only work in their hands.

8. Kaytranada - 99.9%

“I’m here and I know y’all be waiting for me.”

You may or may not know Canadian producer Kaytranada for producing for the likes of Freddie Gibbs, Mick Jenkins, The Internet, among others. He’s always been great at creating groovy, easy-going beats, but he’s never really come out into his own. Until now. With a more than impressive debut, Kaytranada shows the world what he’s capable of and makes the case for being one of the best producers out there today. This is first and foremost a beats tape, with contributions from the likes of rapper Vic Mensa, singer Anderson .Paak, and even jazz quartet BADBADNOTGOOD. But these guests never feel like they’re the focus of the album. Instead, each of them feel more like elements that are mixed together into the groove of the album. Kaytranada takes their voices, their words, their instruments and waves them together with his own impossibly catchy melodies to create something that is truly greater than the sum of its parts. Every song here will get stuck in your head for at least a day, and they will very hardly leave. And I guarantee that no matter what, you’ll be left wanting more.

7. Car Seat Headrest - Teens of Denial

“I didn’t want you to hear that shake in my voice, my pain is my own”

Will Toledo sings about what everyone else would rather not. Depression, social anxiety, failing to make something out of your life, you name it. True, he might not be the first to do so, but it doesn’t mean what he writes isn’t engaging or full of true, raw emotions. Finally free of the constrictions of lo-fi, Toledo takes advantage of it and expands upon his creativity, being loud, huge and bombastic when he needs to, and then going back to being tender and quiet, sometimes in the same song. He’s not the best singer, but for some reason his certainly unique voice works perfectly here. He also manages to add extra instruments, like horns or keyboards, and they complement the music perfectly. But it’s the fantastic songwriting that truly drives the album home for me. Yes, it can be sad and heartbreaking, but there’s moments of catharsis that make it feel like it’s okay to laugh at your own pain. And in the end, we’re all better for it.

6. Bon Iver - 22, A Million

“Philosophize your figure, what I have and haven’t held.”

Every once in a while comes an artist that with a single album alters everything about them. Their image, their sound, everything. Radiohead did it with Kid A, Talk Talk did it with The Colour of Spring, Primal Scream did it with Screamadelica, and now, Bon Iver have done it with 22, A Million. Even though Justin Vernon has subtly been evolving ever since he started the Bon Iver project (replacing the minimalistic sound of For Emma, Forever Ago with a full band on their self-titled album), and even though we’ve seen him collaborate with Kanye West on Yeezus, his most experimental album yet, I don’t think anyone was ready for this radical of a change. Replacing live instrumentation entirely, Vernon instead opts for glitchy soundscapes, manipulated samples of his own voice, and horns aplenty. Even his lyrics have changed, becoming even more cryptic than they already were in the past. But even though the instrumentation is weird and out there, and you never really know just what he’s talking about, Vernon still manages to create something that resonates within you, and the emotions shine through. No matter where he goes next, I don’t have a doubt that it will still be incredible.

5. Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds - Skeleton Tree

“I move, you move, and one more time with feeling”

To say that Skeleton Tree might be Nick Cave’s most emotional album yet is saying a lot. Cave is known for making dark and generally disturbing music, but this record is dark for a very different reason. During the sessions for this album, Cave’s son Arthur tragically passed away. Even though no explicit mention or reference is made, this tragedy haunts the record. That sickening, oppresive feeling of loss lingers in every word and in the sparse, minimalistic production. And then, on the second half of the album, Cave turns his head from the darkness and starts looking towards the light. A ray of hope illuminates the back half of the album, simbolizing the beginning of a healing process. Musically, this album is the most minimalistic Cave has ever gotten. But what’s there is more than enough to convey exactly what needs to be conveyed. This is not an album of despair. It is an album of surviving through that despair and the peace of mind that comes with it.

4. Radiohead - A Moon Shaped Pool

“Broken hearts make it rain”

Thom Yorke and co. are no strangers to the feeling of deep sadness that accompanies loneliness. But on A Moon Shaped Pool, they dive deep within this feeling and produce their most depressing and heartwrenching set of tracks in a very long time. More than being simply emotional, A Moon Shaped Pool is the most human album that has come along in a while. The band, accompanied by Jonny Greenwood’s orchestral arrangements, wear their hearts on their sleeves, resulting in an album that’s mainly about love, or more specifically, what comes after it is gone, and what fills the void that’s left in its place. While album closer True Love Waits might be the most gentle song on the entire album, it’s also the heaviest in terms of what it’s saying. And unlike Skeleton Tree, there’s no comfort at the end of it.

3. David Bowie - Blackstar

“Look up here, I’m in heaven”

When Blackstar came out, the world received a weird, ominous and cryptic album that talked about death, the afterlife, and all that you leave behind when you die. Two days later, we all understood why. More than an album, this is the final testament of an artist coming to terms with his own untimely passing and releasing one final parting gift. This album is chaotic, it’s nightmarish, at times profoundly sad, but in the end, if it truly is Bowie’s final goodbye, then it accomplishes what it sets out to do. One can choose to handle death in a number of ways. The way Bowie chose to do it is unusual, yes, but it feels like something that only he could have done, and it truly ends his decades-long career on a high note, leaving behind a legacy that few people can even hope to accomplish. R.I.P.

2. Danny Brown - Atrocity Exhibition

“Made 30 band in 30 minutes. Before I count it I done damn near spent it.”

This is, no contest, the single darkest album of the year. The Detroit rapper taps into something truly twisted and demented on a lot of tracks in this record. His usual themes of drug addiction, crime, poverty, and death take on an even more sinister turn paired with some of the beats in these songs. This album truly feels like a never-ending downwards spiral. One that just turns darker and more hopeless with every passing song. Danny raps his ass of through the pain, from the perspective of someone who has gone through this and knows what it brings all too well. He raps, more than anything else, from the perspective of someone who’s determined to live and survive through it if it kills him.

1. Frank Ocean - Blonde

“I thought that I was dreaming when you said you loved me”

When Frank returned after a long four year hiatus with Blonde, he released something that did not resemble Channel Orange at all. Instead of the smooth R&B beats, the hooks, the guest verses, we got simple guitar lines, which, in most cases, make up the entirety of the songs’ instrumentations. Again, this is a sparse and minimalistic record, but in the abscence of extra instruments and sounds, the feelings truly shine. The lyrics in this album are, to put it simply, masterful. Dealing with youth, love, and identity, among other subjects, they all come together to create a near-perfect experience of an album that resonates hard within anyone who has ever been young and foolish, or even not that young anymore. It is, in a few words, the best album of 2016.

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