#also three pulls for three debate clubs is actually insulting and no. we were not happy about it last year either

[aloysarrow]

I wish GI wasn't trying to push people (kinda specifically longer players) away from the game, like damn. I really hope new players are watching closely and not just deciding "there are haters" or "complainers." Some of the things, like the age old where's the end-of-game road map, have been actual game needs that haven't been addressed for years. Game needs, guys. Idk, if you still call some people haters/complainers, then I'm probably gonna call you a bootlicker lol

[symphonicmetal101]

Brother Bonding(?) HCs

^^

Lucifer

Mammon

He and Mammon have a bit of a complicated relationship, in that Mammon is always getting into trouble, and Lucifer always has to get him out of it, and then takes it upon himself to scold him for getting them into trouble. However, there are times when Lucifer helps Mammon pull pranks on the other brothers, under the condition that Mammon doesn't tell anyone, otherwise he loses Goldie permanently. The pranks are well executed, and often the blame is but on Belphie or Satan instead.

Levi

We know that Lucifer is responsible for Levi's obsession with Ruri-chan and anime as a whole. Lucifer is often concerned for Levi, as he is familiar with self-doubt, and sympathizes with Levi's constant stream of it. He tries to set aside at least one day a month where he will rewatch old anime with Levi, listen to his spiels, and leave him an allowance to use however he would like. If Lucifer is too busy with paperwork, he'll invite Levi to his office and ask him about the latest games and mangas, even if he isn't listening the entire time.

Satan

Ah, this is a little more complicated. Truthfully, they don't spend much time together. However, if Satan happens to mention a book he wanted, even offhandedly, Lucifer will make sure it ends up in Satan's possession somehow, even if it's through MC. Satan notices this, and as much as he wants to hate Lucifer, those days he makes an extra effort to try and not tease or humiliate Lucifer. It's almost like a silent truce.

Asmo

Yeah, yeah, Asmo paints everyone's nails. But Asmo also knows massage and aromatherapy. When Lucifer is particularly stressed, he'll take it upon himself to try and help him relax. If he has the patience, Lucifer will listen to Asmo explain the science between different scents and how they help the mind and body. Sometimes Asmo isn't sure if Lucifer is actually listens, but within three days of their chats, he finds a small package on his bed with different oils, and a note that says, "I look forward to learning what these oils can do." - Lucifer

Beel

Beel likes to cook, bake, etc. Because Lucifer is always on the go, Beel tries to come up with meals that are easy to walk around with. Lucifer is always the one Beel asks to taste test, (if Beel manages to resist eating the entire thing himself), because Lucifer will give him an honest opinion. It's rare that Lucifer has anything but praise for Beel, but on the off chance he doesn't, he'll walk him through a couple of ideas he could do to improve it, and Beel will deliver.

Note: this is also how Beel found out that Lucifer has the lowest spice tolerance out of the brothers, and he is not to mention it to anyone.

Belphie

Another relationship that serves to be more complex. Lucifer often finds himself wanting to reconcile with Belphie, almost to restore the kind of relationship they had when they were angels. But when you lock someone in an attic against their will, (even if it was to protect them), they tend to hold a grudge. Again, they don't really spend time together unless Beel is present, but Lucifer tries to help Belphie in little ways, like switching his linens weekly, fluffing his pillows, making sure he actually makes it to a bed when he goes to sleep. Belphie just assumes it's Beel doing these things though, and Lucifer lets him. He hopes one day Belphie will realize how much he really does care for him.

Mammon

Levi

They usually don't get along, mostly because of financial issues between them. However, when they are able to put that aside, they can actually enjoy each others company. Mammon has a lot of energy, and Levi likes video games. As a compromise, they regularly play games such as DDR or Just Dance. The whole time, they will insult each other, but lovingly.

Satan

Satan will actively look for books on finance, budgeting, business, etc. To help Mammon. He pitches it as ways to help him get rich, and they will spend hours together trying to form a business plan. While Mammon doesn't usually have the patience, for the sake of spending time with his little brother, he pushes through. Satan usually does this only after one of Mammon's bigger schemes fell through, or when Lucifer tells Mammon to stop.

Asmo

These guys both model. Mammon will set aside some money and time to go spend with Asmo on clothes, accessories, etc. Mammon is just as skilled behind the camera as he is in front of it, so whenever Asmo wants to model, doesn't matter where, Mammon is ready. Sometimes when they've planned their outing with enough notice, Mammon will have saved enough money to buy something for Asmo.

Beel

Whenever Beel is cooking for himself, he usually adds a lot seasonings. Sometimes, it's in hopes that spice will slow him down. Other times it's because he really likes the food, but has almost become desensitized to the taste😥 however, when he makes these batches of food, he'll sometimes invite Mammon to join him. Mammon has an ungodly high tolerance for spice, at least when he's eating. (His stomach may or may not suffer later). Mammon sometimes foolishly challenges Beel to a speed eating contest. Beel tries to decline; he just wants to eat, and he does not want to watch Mammon give himself indigestion or heartburn, but Mammon, persistent as ever, will try and eat as many servings of Beel's food as quickly as possible. This is one of the few times Beel doesn't get mad, he just watches with mild amusemeny and concern.

Belphie

Belphie and Mammon are surprisingly close, despite being complete foils of eacb other. Mammon has lots of energy, Belphie has none. Mammon likes to go out, Belphie likes to stay in. However, building forts? Hell yes, Belphie has enough energy for that. They usually build pillow and blanket forts in the observatory. Belphie will direct Mammon in how to build it for the most amount of comfort. Usually they'll just end up plugging in their headphones and listening to their own music in each other's company until they fall asleep and/or Beel joins them.

Levi

Satan

Levi introduced Satan to VR, and their relationship has taken a turn for the better since then. Satan is more interested in medical simulators and animal simulation games. Levi once made the mistake of playing Mario Kart with Satan, and his room was left in shambles, so now they only do sims to avoid the competition with other players. Satan also likes to play Among Us, as it gives him a chance to flex his detective skills. His self-control is much better with this, for whatever reason.

Asmo

Levi and Asmo are constantly at odds. Not like Mammon, but Asmo cringes every time he sees the way Levi is sitting, every time he hears Levi has ruined his sleep schedule, and every time he sees him sleeping in tje goddamn bathtub. Yes, it has lots of pillows, but none of them are really good for support. He is constantly trying to get Levi to at least stretch or do yoga every once in a while, as well as sit properly in his chair. These stretching session are also when Levi starts to talk about the next cosplay he's working on, which Asmo will undoubtedly want to help with.

(Ik that its implied that Levi taught Asmo how to sew and stuff, but that hc is everywhere, otherwise I would elaborate. It's really cute though.)

Beel

Although Levi spends a lot of his time in his room, he is still the Grand Admiral of Hell's Navy. He does dedicate some time to working out, and when he does, he does it with Beel, because he knows Beel will help keep him on track. Beel is also Levi's biggest source of encouragment. Levi thanks Beel in mass quantities of food from Akuzon later, sometimes in hopes of winning something from a draw, other times as a genuine thank you.

Belphie

Introvert buddies! Belphie doesn't really care for video games, Levi doesn't have the same speed as Mammon for building a pillow fort, but sometimes Belphie will ask to come into Levi's room to look at his aquarium. He finds it relaxing. They don't really talk to each other, they just enjoy each other's company. If Belphie is feeling curious or notices Levi is kind of upset, he'll start asking Levi about the different fish in his aquarium, which quickly cheers Levi up. Belphie's favourite thing about Levi though, is that he is usually awake the same time he is, helping him feel a little less lonely.

Satan

Asmo

I've mentioned this before in my random hcs post, but Asmo and Satan like to study astrology together. They find it fascinating in how accurate it can be, especially since they only get to see the *real* stars, moon, sun, and planets when they're in the human realm. Asmo actually introduced it to Satan, as he used to study it in the Celestial Realm as well.

Beel

Beel is constantly coming up with new recipes, so Satan documents them all for him. He'll be a scribe, while Beel tells him exactly what he's doing the whole time. The other brothers don't know, (Beel asked to keep t a secret), but Satan has helped Beel publish 3 cookbooks already.

Satan also attends Beel's games whenever possible, and Beel has attended Satan's debate team or sometimes book club meetings whenever possible. Because Satan and Belphie are close, so are Satan and Beel.

Belphie

>:)

They are constantly coming up with ways to inconvenience Lucifer, which is their main form of bonding. However, Belphie also taught Satan the constellations when they were younger, so now they will often go stargazing together. Satan doesn't remember, but he used to make up stories about the constellations, and Belphie has a written record of all of them. Sometimes, Belphie will retell the stories from memory to see if Satan recognizes it, but to no avail. Instead Satan will tell another story he has read about the stars. They tell each other stories and stargaze until they fall asleep.

Asmo

Beel

Beel will do warm ups with Asmo; basic stretches, a jog, etc. They will sometimes do yoga together. However, Beel works out a lot, and sometimes his muscles get sore, so Asmo gets to work. Being around Asmo brings out the gossip girl in Beel, so while Asmo is giving him a massage, he's also getting all the tea from all the clubs that Beel is a part of. Beel is very careful with his delivery, but he trusts Asmo to never spin his words the wrong way and to use the new info for good.

Belphie

Asmo has his own fashion line. He often asks Belphie to rate the comfort of his clothes, as he wants them to be fashionable, functional, and comfortable. Belphie never pulls his punches, and Asmo is grateful for the honest criticism. However, sometimes it does get on his nerves, but Belphie makes up for it later by getting Asmo new linens, often silk, because Belphie knows Asmo's preferences. Asmo always asks him where he finds it, but Belphie never answers.

Beel + Belphie

These two can bond almost over anything. However, one of their favorite things to do together is make Quetzalcoatl brain soup. Belphie stays awake long enough to remind Beel to leave some for him.

(My brain just left me here to rot apparently, I'm sorry.)

Oof

Masterlist

[wisteria-lodge]

badger primary + very burnt lion secondary (bird model)

Hi, I’m a Badger primary and stuck between Lion and Snake secondary. I model Bird and Badger over whatever my (probably pretty burnt) secondary is. Would you mind helping me figure it out?

As a kid, I remember being a total joker in class. I thought it was really funny to trick my friends. I got everyone to start chanting at the teacher once. I’d do something daring (for a first grader) like look up “sex” in the dictionary. It basically just said gender and I was confused about what all the fuss was 🤦🏻‍♀️.

Definitely see why you’re thinking Improvisational secondary. One of the old-school SHC bits of wisdom is that when proud rule-breaking is a personality trait, that’s usually the sign of a Lion secondary.

My mom didn’t want me reading all night so I hid flashlights under my bed and would pretend to sleep if she checked on me. I’d lie and would only feel bad about it if threatened with consequences. If I got in trouble, I’d lie or pretend I didn’t know what I’d been doing.

But I could also see Snake. Being very proud of your ability to lie or pretend is very Snake to me.

In middle school, my learning disability really began to show and I started having anxiety and possibly PTSD after 9/11. (I’m from NY). That’s when the Bird model kicked in.

As it does.

People at my new school didn’t get my humor and took my trolling literally and it was really uncomfortable. Honestly middle school sucked and most of what I remember is just snobby, awful social stuff.

I’m definitely getting Lion secondary here. You are YOU, it’s very important that you be you, and the problem is that other people don’t get you. Snake secondaries aren’t so binary.

Oh I did manage to get a teammate’s cell phone number and pranked them. And I hacked into someone’s AIM account. And one time I got in a fist fight with someone on a different team of mine and then we were best friends. Which is weird, looking back.

awww Lion secondaries making friends :D

High school was really hard because I had a really hard time with the schoolwork (learning disability was still undiagnosed) and with finding good friends. I got in trouble a few times for offending people by repeating things I didn’t know were offensive, I dressed up as someone kinda controversial for Halloween which is honestly still one of the highlights of my high school experience. I tricked this creepy guy who wouldn’t leave me alone and embarrassed him in front of the whole school. But wouldn’t ever insult someone to their face on purpose unless I completely lost my temper.

Obviously you can have a hot temper and not be a Lion secondary… but I’m already skewing in that direction, and everything you’re saying here is supporting it. Kind of getting a kick out of offending people (or making them uncomfortable) is VERY Lion secondary.

I joined the Political Union club and didn’t really debate because I’m terrible at it.

Lion secondaries tend to be pretty bad at formal debate. That’s more a built secondary thing. Great at giving speeches, though :)

I just watched everyone argue and trolled people. I remember one meeting, people started throwing books at each other and it was amazing. That “agent of chaos” answer on the quiz is me haha.

The “agent of chaos” answer is the Lion secondary answer.

I knew the perfect way to get this one teacher to go off on a tangent about the Soviet Union for the entire lesson. I couldn’t keep up with the schoolwork so I’d BS a lot of it and manage to get by. Participation was key to your grade so I’d read just enough to discuss parts of it and then just make throwaway funny comments and ask good questions to beef up my contributions.

I’d say that gaming the system in this particular way (which I completely support) actually sounds like you Bird secondary model. Which makes sense, if the *purpose* of that model is to help you out in an academic setting.

I think I burned after a traumatic event at the end of my senior year. I started modeling Badger secondary hard. Basically just be sweet and helpful and everything will be fine, right? When that did not, in fact, make everything be fine, I pulled out the manipulation to make damn sure people were on my side.

I’m interested in what you mean by “manipulation.” Because while that’s normally a Snake secondary word, I’m not getting Snake Secondary from you. I suspect you may actually parse your Bird secondary as “manipulation,” which is sort of unusual.

I did still troll sometimes, but I haven’t felt playful and fun in so long. I’ve been really depressed over the last few years about some serious medical problems that can’t really be resolved. I just feel flat like a car stuck in park.

Oh ouch. Yeah, that’s a burnt secondary all right.

I’m scared of failing. I’m scared people won’t like me or that I’ll get in trouble. I don’t have the energy to lie convincingly or put on a show but I also don’t feel safe enough to be blunt. I’m reluctantly forcing myself to be diplomatic while screaming inside.

This is portrait of a Burnt Lion secondary. You’re afraid of failing, but failing is necessary and important to Lions. It’s how they change direction. “Being yourself” had gotten you into trouble and made some people not like you, so you’re scared about going there again. You want to be blunt, but it’s too scary. Instead you’re being diplomatic and putting on a show, both things you define as “lying” (very Lion secondary) but it’s incredibly energy consuming.

I don’t know how to go back to how I was. (I am trying to find a good therapist but it’s hard to find one who specializes in all the things I need, not to mention a good fit personality-wise). When I’m not Like This, I can be really charming. I miss it. 

Well, a therapist is the first step. I guess my tiny little piece of advice in the meantime, is find a place in your life where you *can* use your lion again. Make that place as tiny and as low-stakes as you need to. Maybe you have an anonymous blog where you shit-post. Maybe you bring out your Lion for just one person. Maybe go to a weekend convention - if it’s three days with people you never see again, who cares if you get in trouble or offend something. Check out the SHC discord server, and see if any of the other burnt Lionsecs have tips. I know Lions are very all-or-nothing, but I’m a Badger. Baby steps are steps.

[omigiry]

Being best friends with Kunimi and Kindaichi

request:  hcs for being besties with kunimi and kindaichi ? - anon

ry’s notes: I really love Kunimi, he’s one of my favorite characters in Seijoh (even though all of them are my faves) and I really relate to him so much along with Kenma who’s just too lazy at some point. (edited)

━━━ 𝙆𝙪𝙣𝙞𝙢𝙞

Kunimi is one lazy guy. We all know that he hates the phrase “go all out.”

Being his best friend means you can’t drag him out of his house that easily. When you do he’ll mostly stay on his phone. He enjoys hanging out with you, but he much prefers hanging out at your house or his house and just lies on the couch and chill.

When he gives advice he would first insult you before giving one. When he knows you’re serious he would make an effort to actually give genuine and well thought advice.

Would be there to support you, not just physically. Because the boy loves his bed more than anything else. (jk he loves you more but doesn’t admit it)

You love to annoy him just to see his reaction. If he insults you, you insult him back. It’s how you both show your affection towards each other.

Both of you share with each other the weird and funny things you see on the internet, especially the struggle tweets.

“For the last time, no.” Kunimi said as you try to convince him to hang out at the mall after class. 

“Come on. I wanna watch the movie.” You tried again as you kept pulling his arm.

“Let’s wait for it to be online.” He reasoned out. 

“But that would take another year!” He grimaced, he knows that you’re not going to easily give up. You’ve been talking about this movie ever since it was announced and how you wanted to watch it in the cinema. It was a movie adaptation of one of the best selling books, you’ve checked out already and you were hooked.

“Fine.” He finally gave up and your face immediately lit up. “But I know this wouldn’t be worth it.”

Once the movie was done, so to say Kunimi was right. It wasn't worth it. 

“I told you so.” He said as he enjoys the look of disappointment on your face. You glared at him, hating the fact that he was right.

The movie did no justice on how the book portrayed the characters and some of the notable parts of the book got cut off on the movie.

“Next time, if I say so, you’ll gladly agree. Kunimi knows best.”

━━━ 𝙆𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙖𝙞𝙘𝙝𝙞

He’s a competitive guy and would not easily back down. 

Whenever you play games together he would get competitive and defeat you with all his might. If he loses a game he would want a rematch. He would also keep records of how many wins and loses he had with you. (let’s pretend that you crushed him a lot of times that’s why he’s salty)

You would sometimes have a debate of which one is better and which one is not — type of debates.

Down for anything. He won’t be the one asking to hang out, but if you did he would accompany you or immediately say yes. 

The only thing he would drag you is to watch a volleyball match with him or practice with him.

Ready to protect you like an older sibling.

When you’re sad he would buy you your comfort food and would stay with you until you feel alright. And once you are he would say that the food was not free (he’s only kidding tho to make you feel better)

“My server lagged. Let’s have a rematch!” Kindaichi said over the call you were having as you played a 1v1 match. 

You agreed and crushed him again and he would ask for another rematch. You defeated him countless times and you would comment on the number of wins you had just to rub it in his face. 

“Well it’s because I have club activities and you don’t, so I don’t have any time to play video games that much.” He made an excuse. 

“What was that? I can’t hear you. I only hear cries of a loser.” You poked his competitiveness and would sometimes make an unfair match. Like who could reach the ceiling on the corridor or even challenge you in volleyball.

You’d get in a debate on what’s better, coffee or milktea. You’ll both chat in all caps like you’re screaming at each other just to prove your point. Both of you wouldn’t give up and would drag Kunimi in the conversation.

The debate won’t end unless someone changes the subject and it’s Kunimi’s job to do that just to stop the both of you flooding his notifications so that he could enjoy watching a video.

𝗯𝗼𝗻𝘂𝘀 + 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙚𝙚 𝙥𝙚𝙖𝙨 𝙞𝙣 𝙖 𝙥𝙤𝙙

You got yourself two personal bodyguards that would make fun of you.

When someone bullies you they are ready to protect you. Saying that they are the only one who has the right to bully you. On a serious note, they will really protect you at all cost. They know that you’re a tough person (surviving the friendship you have with the two made you tough because of all the insults they throw at you), but there’s still a limit to it. So if they know it’s getting out of hand, they’ll step in.

Love it when you bring them snacks during practices.

It isn’t a normal day if the three of you are not having a heated conversation over something, like the one with Kindaichi. Kunimi is tired of it.

Likes to rest their elbows or arms on your shoulder if you’re shorter than them and you would shove it away and kick them on the knees. 

You never walk in the corridors alone, if it’s not with the two of them, one would always be by your side. 

Lowkey terrified of you when you get mad.

You three were walking on the way to the gym when someone randomly insults you. Like the big person you are, you ignored them. It isn’t worth it to waste energy on people like them. It was all fine but then they decided to hit a sore topic and it made you stop.

Kunimi and Kindaichi sense your sudden change of attitude, before you could even do something Kunimi put a hand on your shoulders. “I never knew Seijoh lowered their standards to accept students like them.” He said it enough for them to hear it. 

Kindaichi would glare at them as he shields your back in order for you not to look. 

The third years were also on their way to the gym so they saw what happened. Since you were close with Kunimi and Kindaichi and watched them practice they got to know you too, they joined in protecting you and the third years being proud of them standing up for you. 

“We did it because if she’s the one who fought back, they might end up transferring to another school.” Kindaichi jokes.

“Or her getting suspended.” Kunimi added. You weren’t violent but your words hurt when you get fired up or angry.

“You know I was gonna thank you by treating you guys, but I changed my mind.”

requests are open, hc’s, scenarios, imagines. but it might take me a lil while to make it, i’ll still try my best. Thank you for reading, really appreciate y’all  ♡ ♡ ♡ stay hydrated and keep your hands clean  ♡

[xxrainstormxx]

Save it Lover Boy. Spencer Reid x Reader (Save it for the Doctor Part 2)

(A/N: In this story it’s been a few months. I’m not great at focusing on the Romance part but there is a little more than there was last time. I really hope you guys enjoy!) Word count: 2,405 Part 1 (edit: my pleas for requests for stories are not reaching people so I will beg here. If you want a oneshot I’ll write it. Prompt or no prompt.)

After the incident with my sister, my life was flipped around for the better. I began to date Spencer, the team being unaware. I finished college and thanks to a few strings JJ and Aaron had pulled I was now the BAU's personal assistant. Granted, it was a unpaid internship so it was not very glamorous but it got me the experience I need, especially if I want to be apart of this specific team. I was the one who got coffee, filled out unrelated paper work, helped JJ set up stations and boards. I still hadn't quite gotten used to that sinking feeling when the phone rings. Or when JJ approaches your desk, or the photos. You never get used to not sleeping in your own bed, the hotels, no moments of privacy, the monsters, families loosing each other. Or the pictures, it's disgusting. I especially never got used to how numb all my friends were numb to it all at the end of the day. Especially Spence, he'd been through utter hell and yet he was still sweet and managed to smile. It worried me sometimes, how relaxed they could be at the end of the day. 

So, JJ and I were setting up everything on the board. I frowned at the woman on the board. Only one, we caught it just in time for it to become a murder. It made me sick to think there was a possibility we could save the 25 year old, but instead we were called in after it became a bigger problem which made me feel sick. How easily someone gets away with something until they commit the actual murder. This woman was a very lively person. She clearly didn't deserve what she had gotten. "Samantha Burkly" JJ said softly "Poor woman." She said and left to talk to the others leaving me sitting in the conference room just tapping away at the laptop provided. I was also little Miss Penelope Garcia's assistant so I was stuck digitizing files she didn't want to, and it fucking sucked dirty dick. Yeah, let that sink in. Anyway I felt a few pairs of eyes on me only to look up and see the team staring at me through the cursed window of the room. "What?" I rose a brow causing a few to look away Spencer's eyes lingering, he was waiting for something. I don't think either of us knew what so I blew him a kiss and a subtle wink making him look away turning pink. That same shade of pink when he found me innocent and began what I would come to know as a very normal rant. His epiphanies, or what I called "braingasms" (which he absolutely despised), would strike a chord 99% of the time, and the other 1% could be brushed off as "Reid being Reid" which kinda upset me. He was a damn genius and yet no one seemed to want to listen. Sure I hadn't been around as long a the others but I would sit and listen to Spence talk for hours when on dates, I would nod, as questions and get very thoughtful and honest answers. Sure they weren't always what someone would want to hear, but did anyone ever tell you it would be good news. Reid and I could also have a very thoughtful debate. Now was that normal for couples, no, probably not. But at least he had facts to back up his opinion, making it a real debate and not just some senseless argument that fell into pointless attacks on the other person leading to a fight and rough makeup sex. Which I wouldn't mind but it'd only been a few months, and didn't wanna make an uncomfortable situation we could easily talk through anyway. What was I doing? Right, paperwork. 

As I ended my very long side rant and staring into space while also staring directly at Spencer's ass, I turned to my computer. "You shouldn't stare at people baby cakes." I heard causing me to jump out of my damn seat. "I was staring into space. Jesus Derek you scared the shit out of me!" I cursed glancing to the man with his nose in a file I was digitizing, "Sorry hun. But we need a fresh pair of eyes" he said gesturing to a new less dusty file on the table in front of my computer. I recognized the face on the front as the same woman on the board. Her name written on the front clear as day. I knew what was inside and I was proud to have not seen it but now it disturbed me that my eyes were being referred to as "Fresh" in that way. It made me feel dirty and violated in a whole new way. "Why? You guys know this case inside and out. I'm just the intern." I said and snatched the older file out of his hand. I knew this poor case inside and out by now. Decapitation and sexual assault of the esophagus. Real nasty shit ya know? The woman was 22 and then a man was found two weeks later with the same thing. But the case went cold 7 years ago. It was sad. The woman's mother had killed herself and the man's father disowned his son assuming he was gay because a man did that to the literally gaping hole in his neck. It was one of the bigger case files full of dead ends. I had become intimately aware of all the details of the case, even the signature, something overlooked by the police because they thought decapitation and violation of the hole in the neck was it, and while rare that wasn't the case. It was a soft lipstick mark left on the victims hands next to the stamp of the club they went too. It was pink so very easily missed. "Because baby, you're gonna need to get used to this if you ever wanna be promoted. You can't react like you did back in January and vomit on the floor." Derek chided me softly "Fine, But you have to stop calling me baby, we aren't together. Also stop touching the files they're in alphabetical order and you're fuckin it up" I hissed smacking his hand away from another file at the bottom of the stack. "pissin me off Agent Moron" I wailed as he laughed at the new insult. I could literally feel Spencer's jelousy from the next room. It was honestly kind of cute but I could not be thinking of my boy's sweet face at the moment, I was about to see what really happened to poor Samantha Burkly. I took the new file off the table and opened it to the pictures and I was hit with a familiarity. "Derek this isn't funny. I was just looking at this file" I declared nonchalantly as I lobbed it back onto the table going back to the laptop "What the hell are you talking about?" He asked "that's a brand new file" He said "A red headed woman decapitated with semen in her esophagus and a pink lipstick mark on her hand next to it? That Hellen Barsly not the Burkly girl" I stated "You leave out Jason Green to make it more realistic?" I muttered never once looking up "Pin lipstick mark?" he questioned grabbing the file "I'll be damned there it is. You barely looked at it. That woman is Samatha Burkly" he blinked "Har har Derek" I hissed snatching the file and opened the file as Spencer walked in to listen. I barely acknowledged him because I was pissed at this point.

"I know the Banshee Hunter of West Point case better than my own fucking computer history" I said and held it up to the picture before being shocked as I saw that the decapitated woman was in fact Samantha. Right next to her living photo. "The what?" Reid asked, clearly never having heard of it. "Oh my god. OH MY GOD" I yelled and ran back to my seat pulling out all the files related to The BHWP case, I knew full well that this case was bigger than it seems. "Penelope has me on digital file duty and these cases caught my attention for some reason. The case went cold 7 years ago." I mumbled pulling up all the files that were back at the office in my desk as I'd finished them. I had a whole folder for all the connected cases, even ones where the M.O and victimolgy had changed. "The first murder dated back to 1970. A woman by the name of Jenny Boil had disappeared, she was 24 years old. Found decapitated in the middle of the highway her esophagus had been sexually assaulted. She had red hair with a soft pink kiss mark on her hand and her mouth had been stretched open like a banshee. And because her hair was red along with numerous victims leading up to the sudden coldness of the case. There are cases where the victimology changed completely or the M.O so the police never connected them or assumed they were copy cats" I rambled as I quickly set up a time line that ended with Samantha "and now hes back with the latest victim" I hit enter and the time line stretched across the screen victims all over the screen. "the pink lip stick marks. Originally they were thought to be remorse but I think this guy has some kind of fucked up chivalrous attempt" I squawked and pushed my chair to the whiteboard standing on it feeling eyes on me. I didn't know or care how many. I heard frantic flipping and click me. "This guy has over 100 known victims only 12 of them not red heads. Only 11% of his victims don't fit the victims and only 3 don't fit the M.O of the others making that 2%!" I yelled as if I was Spencer. I could feel my face turning red with adrenaline. "Now all of these cases 100 percent all have a kiss mark on the hand, same brand and color of lipstick, A frosted pink lipstick, 67 Peach Pink from the brand Nestacia" I wrote that down "And all these cases I noted have three different overlapping suspects" I said pushing Spencer out of the way of my computer and printed up their pictured and grabbed them hanging them up "Now!" I continued slapping the board "This man right here is no Biological male! His name is Tyler Grant a 59 Year old trans man! He couldn't have done it but that doesn't mean he couldn't have helped" I said noticing the whole team in the room. No one tried to interrupt because I assumed I looked batshit insane. 

I was right cause I caught my refection and my hair was everywhere now, I was sweating, and my pupils were shaking. I didn't care I was on a roll. "There is no plausible way the semen belongs to him!" I said "These also can't be a copy cat killer-" I began before being unceremoniously interrupted again "But how do you-" he began before i loudly shushed Spencer. "Save it lover boy! I'm getting to that! Lemme talk your turn in over" I said making him smile just a little "As i was saying, it can't be a copy cat killer because there was also another unnoticed factor! The strange shape of the lips! No one draws on their lips this way but the pallet is larger on one side than the other. The killer has a cleft pallet, which cannot be a coincidence!" I said "and as you can see! This man right here! Leston Nikolia has a cleft pallet. But because they never had proof he'd done it due to the overlooked lipstick marks he walked free!" I yelled circling him "And we don't talk about Henry for the simple fact that he is Impotent and was in jail during the last 7 murders before Samantha and he's dead now!" I finished and took a large inhale and sat down "the lip stick is enough reasonable suspicion to bring him in for questioning. He's a coward. He cannot face people head on and most likely has high anxiety and is easily paranoid it wouldn't be hard to get a correct confession." I panted "Reid! Is this what it feels like when you solve a fucking problem? I feel like my brain just had 7 orgasms" I wished sitting back "It was always circumstantial but now that there a new victim sitting in front of me I'm sure it was him" I wished taking more deep breaths "I'm going to call Garcia and see if I can get a fact check on everything." Aaron began making my heart sink, please please don't discredit everything I just gave you. "JJ can you get us a location? Reid get started on a warrant the minute JJ gets it, Derek get a game plan together, Prentiss and I will do more investing on this Nikolia guy, and (Y/N)." he finished turning to me. "Keep going over every file you have and see if you can connect anymore of these murders. Good work" He said and the team began to work. "Holy shit" I gasped and Spencer smiled at me "You might have just solved this case." He said kissing my forehead "and I'm so damn proud" he whispered. I was still riding my knowledge high, the adrenaline still pumping so not caring that we were at work, I kissed Spencer straight on the lips. He froze because we were still in a work setting but slowly kissed back. His lips were soft, we hadn't had a proper first kiss, just forehead kisses, cheek pecks, and occasional pecks on the lips if Spencer was feeling sausey. I just giggled pulling back "That was... so much at once. How does your brain do that all the time?" I asked "Mine's been doing it a lot longer. See you after work okay?" he whispered and went to do his job "Right. Work" I whispered and sighed turning to my laptop cracking my knuckles doing real work for the first time in my internship. Who knows, maybe me and Penelope could do this kind of thing together!

[ace--writes]

To Reach a Journey’s End - 2 (of a Soulmate AU)

Authors’ Note: Hello all! This is a collaboration with the incredible, the imaginative, quite obviously the backbone of this fic, @emo-does-things!! Here is the second instalment (aka chapter) of the story we are weaving!!

Again, we don’t know how America works for the most part, so if we make a  mistake please let us know!

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Eventual LAMP

Warnings: Again, none come to mind. If there is something we need to add to the warning be sure to let us know!

Words: 2590

Links: Tumblr Chapter 1         Ao3 Chapter 1         Ao3 Chapter 2

~~~~~

Lunch was a glorious respite from the classes of the day. The break itself still didn’t quite leave Virgil’s sliding scale between ok and awful, but Patton would be there, so that levelled it up to being classified as good. 

The day’s rating, outside of Patton, was slowly seeming to morph from ‘ok’ to ‘just barely tolerable’, ‘awful’ to ‘the actual end of his small world’. 

After English, he had a feeling it was only going to get worse. 

At least he managed to escape English without having to talk to that Roman guy again, and with the minimal amount of death glares he could hope to receive. He’d fled the room first, knowing that Patton would assume he’d just booked it to their spot after all that. 

He grabbed his lunch and all but ran to their place under the most secluded tree, where he and Patton had been sitting together since Patton had befriended him three years ago.

He slumped back between the roots and against the trunk, pulling his knees up and burying his head in his arms.

He takes a moment to breathe and try to remember all the different methods he’s learnt to calm down.

None of these tactics seems as effective as when he hears footsteps he recognises instantly.

“Awe, what’s got you all gloomy kiddo?” Patton asks as he settles down next to him. 

Somehow it’s that overly chipper, rather redundant question, that manages to reduce his anxiety. It does not, however, stop his sardonic reply.

“I dunno Pat, maybe the fact that I got into a huge debate with the new kid in English on the first day back, and now everyone that likes him has it out for me because we just ended up insulting each other,” he muttered sarcastically into his folded arms. 

“I’m sure it won’t be that bad Virge! I mean, sure you guys argued, but it’s just like Mr Terrance’s normal debates, don’t you think? And hey, the day’s only half over! Plenty of time for things to go better if you’re still worried,” Patton said, and Virgil could exactly picture the expression he would be wearing without having to look up. 

He’d be smiling, fond and sappy and encouraging, but there would be that faint crease of worry between his brows that he would always get whenever Virgil was upset or anxious.

Virgil glanced up, resting his chin on his arms instead of his whole face, and blew the bangs from his face. He was exactly right about the expression on Patton’s face, but honestly, visualising it still didn’t do him justice. His imagination would never be able to quite replicate the sparkle in his green eyes or the cute dimple in his smile or the sheer amount of emotion he could show on his face with such little movement and- wait no stop. Now was not the time to wax poetic about how cute his best friend looked. 

He could not let himself stray too far into that territory. Patton probably had a wonderful soulmate out there waiting for him, with a beautiful face and a shining personality to match his, and most importantly someone who was not a mess, like Virgil. 

“So,” Patton began, leaning back into the roots to relax, “What do you think we’ll be doing this year? For Drama Club.”

Virgil took a moment to think, while he pulled out one of his sandwiches.

“Probably one of the really old ones. We did Be More Chill last year, so Mrs Dollary will probably want us to do something ‘classic’. I hope it’s Shakespeare,” he said, smiling slightly at the prospect. 

“Oh, I hope so!” Patton gasped happily, “The costumes are so fun for our Shakespeare productions!”

Virgil grinned, “Yeah, the sets are so much more interesting too.”

It was easy to let the rest of the day's worries drift away then, sitting with Patton, chatting about something they were both passionate about. They ate lunch, they smiled and laughed, and he appreciated the moment away from the rest of his classes. 

It was a brief respite from the rest of the day that would be broken next by a class that Virgil usually included at the bearable end of the spectrum. Science itself, as a subject was interesting enough, and the various methods and measures were at least consistent.

The problem this time would be that he had no idea what his new teacher was like. She was apparently new this year.

So, Virgil made his way to Science with Patton, hoping to god that this would not add another subject to his ‘awful’ list. 

They were some of the first to arrive, with only two other students being in the room, both standing up the front next to her desk. They were still holding all of their belongings.

The woman that stood behind the desk, seemed to be their teacher, as she looked through the roll and glanced up at them occasionally. She had striking green glasses and a short black bob and a posture that seemed to scream seriousness.

“Name?” She asked as soon as he stepped through the door.

“Virgil Picani,” he answered as soon as he unfroze from the shock.

Patton grinned, “Patton Morgen, hello! How are you?”

She nodded, ignoring the greeting, “As I was saying to the others, I’m going to be assigning seats when the rest of the class arrives. For the moment, you can wait.”

Virgil knew very deep down and very sincerely, that nothing good would come from this. 

As the class trickled in Virgil only grew more anxious. He began to crack his knuckles in an attempt to ease the tension, but that was quickly stopped by a gentle nudge for Patton. He began to tap his foot next, along with biting his nails as he began to get pushed further and further into the blackboard. 

Eventually, the teacher stepped from behind her desk to address the whole class, “Hello seniors. I am Miss Hamasaki, and I will be your Science teacher for the foreseeable future. As you are likely aware, I will be assigning seats, based on who arrived first, first impressions, and what I decide appropriate. There will be no switching of seats unless I instruct you to do so, understood? All right then, Logan Croft please take this seat.”

A boy far more sharp and put together than any highschooler had the right to be, especially as a senior, stepped forward. He was tall, lanky, and wearing a tie despite their school’s lack of uniform. He had rectangular glasses, and a folder, which led Virgil to a thrilling conclusion.

Nerd. 

“Melissa Trainer,” Miss Hamasaki called, to reveal a shy, short girl who rushed to her allocated seat. 

“Patton Morgen.”

Patton nudged Virgil in a friendly manner as he passed, clearly trying to bestow some level of comfort. He was allocated a seat in the middle, two rows behind the Logan kid. 

“Virgil Picani.”

Please be next to Patton, please be next to Patton, he chanted. As the teacher looked up, clearly about to seat him behind Patton, she stopped. Her eyes narrowed in a calculating manner and Virgil did not like it.

“Hm�� Yes, a nerd and a troublemaker,” she muttered to herself, but Virgil heard, “You’ll sit there, Mr Picani. I want you up the front.”

He shuffles forward, scowling a little, but slumps into his seat nonetheless. 

“Salutations,” said the boy he was seated next to now. 

“Hi,” he muttered back.

Oh. In that moment, several memories jumped back at him, and Virgil recognised his new desk partner. Yeah, he’d just heard his name, Logan Croft, but he remembered sitting with him in other classes, forced together by some group project or another. 

Virgil also remembered that his previous assessment was bang on, Logan was, in fact, a nerd, but one of the better ones. He did the work he was supposed to in a project and didn’t pretend that anyone else was lesser if they didn’t understand, he would be happy to explain anything he could, but still tended to use big words all the time. He also seemed quiet, most of the time. 

There could definitely be worse partners, he thought, and was promptly proven correct when the last person in class standing, waiting to be seated, was the new kid, Roman, from earlier. 

“And Mr Miller, with Mr Morgen please,” Miss Hamasaki, pointing towards Patton. 

Fuck. He thought. Shit, Patton was going to make friends with him, and Virgil was never going to be allowed to complain about him again. Fuck, what if Patton started talking to him and he decided he liked him better. He was after all, very much like Patton, seeming loud and excitable. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!

No. Stop that. You’re doing that thing that your therapist told you about. What was it called again? Cognitive distortions or something… Anyway, stop, it will be fine. It will be fine. His thoughts argued, but slowly he pulled himself away and tried desperately to focus on anything but the excited conversation between Patton and Roman just two seats back. 

“Now I know that many of you will be disconcerted by the separation with your friends. However, from this experience, I am sure that you will either make new friends, or do much better in my class than you usually would. You have five minutes to get to know your new partner, if you don’t already, starting now,” Miss Hamasaki said, returning to looking at papers behind her desk. 

Her attention didn’t wander so much that people got away with being overly loud, or behaving inappropriately, though, as Patton, Roman and several other people found out when she glared at them and shred them. 

“So…” said Virgil, awkward as ever.

“Indeed,” muttered Logan.

They both stared at each other for an uncomfortable amount of time. Virgil coughed awkwardly into his sleeve and stared at the floor.

He could hear Patton and Roman talking from where he sat, but he couldn’t make out what they were saying. He could just tell Patton’s (ever-familiar) and Roman’s (ever-annoying) voices apart from the rest of the crowd.

He found himself slowly twisting around so he could stare back at the two of them, clearly having a very animated conversation, happily getting to know each other. Virgil could practically feel the jealousy on his face. 

He could Practically hear Remy whispering in his ear, “Green is not your colour, honey! Besides, no ones taking our second son away from us.”

It was mostly the first half, but he added the second because he figured that he might as well be true to life, even in his thoughts.

“You don’t need to worry,” a rather monotone voice broke him from his thoughts. 

“What?” he blinked at Logan, probably a little bit stupidly and more than a bit dazed.

“You don’t need to worry. Anyone that’s seen you and Patton knows that you mean the world to each other. Both of you,” he said smoothly, although Virgil could almost tell that he was uncomfortable with the concept, “It is highly improbable that Patton would choose now to leave you, over a different assigned seat in class.”

“Improbable does not mean impossible,” he muttered petulantly, already conceding Logan’s point, and they both knew it. 

“That is true, they are not synonyms. However, ‘highly improbable’ and ‘very unlikely’ are, and thus my point stands.”

Virgil wasn’t sure whether to be very annoyed or very amused. Nine times out of ten he would choose the latter, but before he even realised it his face was falling into a grin. He took a moment to school his features, trying to at least appear somewhat serious- after all that’s what logan seemed to be doing.

“Yeah, well your ‘point’ isn’t made with full evidence,” he sighed, continuing the mock discussion for the sake of something to talk about.

“Well, then what am I unaware of that would change my conclusion?” he asked, actually seeming curious.

“Well, the fact that Roman- that's the new kid by the way-”

“-Yes I had heard his name being called”

“And I have a little thing going where I hate him and he almost definitely hates me.”

“Almost definitely does not mean certainly,” Logan said a slight smirk on his face.

“Didn’t we just have this conversation about schematics in the opposite direction?” Virgil asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I have no idea what you are talking about, Virgil,” Logan said, smirk fully formed on his face, the most emotion Virgil had ever remembered seeing him wear, across every project they’d ever done together.

Before he knew it, Virgil was actually laughing. He wasn’t sure what finally set him off- the absolute ridiculousness of his jealousy or Logan’s deadpan comment, but he guessed it must be a combination of the two. 

Logan, for his part, seemed both pleased with himself, and surprised at Virgil's reaction, again, more emotion than he had ever seen before. He didn’t seem half bad, although Virgil had no idea why it had taken until this conversation for him to realise it.

“Maybe this arranged seating won’t be the end of the world after all,” Virgil said slowly, grin still in place. 

“There is a slim to none chance that the end of the world would be brought about by Miss Hamasaki seating us together,” Logan said with a frown, and Virgil sighed.

“I meant, like, figuratively. You know, that we’d never get along, and that I'd have the worst time ever being forced to sit with you,” Virgil said.

“Oh,” said Logan, “well, I am glad that you do not think I am the worst possible person to be seated with.”

“Understatement much. I’d get into a fight with a quarter of the people in this class, and be too nervous to talk to the other three quarters, so you’re definitely up there.”

“But that adds to a whole, where would I- and for that matter Patton, as I’m sure you neither want to fight him or are afraid of him- fit into that?” Logan asked, once again seeming legitimately confused.

“I meant them as rough fractions, not perfect estimates. If there was a Venn diagram there would be one average size circle for ‘people i would fight’ and then a much bigger one with ‘people I am afraid of’  and then there is a third, very small circle, which is actually just labelled ‘Patton, Logan and that one girl I had to do a history project with last year’,” Virgil said, making the motions of drawing circles with his hands as he spoke.  

“Ah, well… That seems to be high regard, coming from you, Virgil. I am… Satisfied with your opinion of me,” Logan said slowly.

“Sure thing, L,” Virgil said, immediately panicking upon using the nickname but trying to play it off as he turned to the front as Miss Hamasaki called their attention. 

If Virgil had looked, and seen Logan’s reaction, he might not have been able to judge the emotion there, as Logan himself seemed to struggle to. 

If he had looked, he might have seen the strange quirk to his lips that wasn’t one that often appeared, considering Logan wasn’t often one for displaying- or feeling as he would say- happiness. 

But Virgil didn’t look, and he didn’t see the happy expression there, as Logan silently sat surprised at the prospect of maybe, just maybe, finding a friend.

Tag List: @deathshadowrules @i-have-n0-idea-what-im-d0ing 

[bananashemmo]

The Fight

Pairing: Y/N/Ashton

Rating: All

Request: Yes

Words: 1.800+

Summary: It’s not often that Ashton and Y/N fight but when Ash decides to go clubbing for another night in a row Y/N calls him out. But things get twisted as Ashton has to go to the stage minutes before and they are pulled apart right in the middle of the argument. 

“We’re on in 10 minutes. Remember to prepare your microphones beforehand.”

Ashton nodded his head in agreement, his head bopping to the beat of the music he could hear from the opening act playing on the TV screen.

It wasn’t always you were able to see the stage from your point of view but at today’s venue, they had a TV showing the stage.

“As long as they just turn on Michael’s mic so we don’t go through the same as we did in Toronto,” Luke commented with a sigh, looking over at Mike who just shrugged his shoulders.

It wasn’t always the technology was in tip-top form.

You looked up from your magazine and glanced over at Ashton. He was continuing to play with his drumsticks against the armrest of the couch. It wouldn’t be a surprise if he made a hole with how harsh he was drumming.

You didn’t blame him, it was a habit of his. Especially when warming up for the crowd. He was getting excited, and it wasn’t something you wanted to interrupt right away.

“We’ve got everything,” Calum asked as the mature one, making sure nothing was left behind before they went on stage.

“I think we’ve got everything.” Michael nodded his head in agreement. He banged his hand on his chest indicating that he had placed his plectrums in the small pocket.

Calum nodded his head in agreement and looked over at Luke and Ashton who gave the same response back.

You sighed carefully and focused back no the magazine. It was the usual routine there was nothing big about it anymore and it wasn’t always you wanted to stand by the side of the crowd.

It was only when songs that weren’t always played every day would be performed you would show your shadow.

“You’ve got everything prepared for afterward?”

You quivered an eyebrow confused by Luke’s sudden words as he looked over at Ashton.

Ashton nodded his head in agreement and high-fived Luke happily. You didn’t know what was going on but neither did you want to stand up and suddenly interrupt.

“It’s going to be a blast of the night. I’ve even convinced Michael to join so it’s going to be a night we won’t forget.”

Your cheeks turned red by the words, it wasn’t hard to figure out what was going on but neither did you fully understand. You just wished it wasn’t as you thought it was.

“Let’s go.” Calum announced, wanting to drag the others out of the door.

Ashton walked towards you to give you the usual goodbye kiss before leaving to the stage. You always did this and there was nothing breaking it.

But after he had kissed you and was ready to turn around you grabbed his hand and stopped him in track. You pulled him back to look at you.

“Come on, Y/N I know I’ll miss you too but I have to do this.” He thought it was innocent, just you missing him so much you were teasing him about not letting go.

His hand came up to move a piece of hair from your forehead to place it behind your ear but you flicked away.

“What was Luke talking about?” You were trying your utter best not to sound angry.

“What?” Ashton asked, not getting what you were talking about but then realized.

“Oh! Oh, it’s just that we’re going out clubbing tonight. Luke found this really cool place that Brad Pitt used to visit back in his old days so we just thought we’d check it out all the four of us.”

Your face couldn’t help but fall. You didn’t know if you were supposed to be angry or supposed to be sad. No matter what it was a hard position you were suddenly pulled into.

“What?” You repeated his word from before, but with a voice that was a whole lot weaker than his.

“But you went clubbing yesterday? And the day before that?” You didn’t want to mention that they had also done it the day before that again but they had.

This tour was so different from the others. Now that they all had turned over 21 it was like some kind of new era had started and you weren’t really a part of it. Not that you weren’t the one to drink and you weren’t the one to go clubbing but you also had a life besides that. It couldn’t always end in doing something at night, sometimes you just wanted a relaxing day.

“I know, isn’t it awesome?” He seemed excited and took a look in the mirror just to fix the last bit of his hair.

“Yeah okay no I don’t think so.” You were debating with yourself whether or not, to be honest.

At first, Ashton didn’t hear you, or he thought you had said something else but then he looked at you confused.

“You don’t think it’s great?”

“No, I don’t.” You were stern this time and crossed your arms.

“I just thought that it was going to be the two of us tonight. Watching some Netflix at the hotel room before leaving tomorrow morning to a new state.”

“But we can do that when I get home?” Ashton was trying to sound optimistic.

“At 4AM where I’m far away sleeping?” You questioned skeptically.

“You can just stay up until I get there? I promise it won’t be that late it’s just going to be a couple of beers and shots.”

“Ashton, be realistic!” You didn’t want to get angry but he was testing your nerves.

“We’re leaving tomorrow morning and all I’m asking is for you to be home at once! You’re never there anymore the only time we see each other is either on the plane or here backstage where I’m watching you far away on the stage!”

“That’s not true.” Ashton disagreed, “We see each other plenty of times during the day.”

“Where you’re out either meeting fans or shopping or watching the places with the boys or doing interviews! It’s always workdays Ash and that doesn’t include me.”

“Well sorry, I have a job to worry about!” He sounded offended and you rolled your eyes.

“I did not just insult your job oh my god I’m just saying that the one time where we can actually spend some time together you use it on alcohol and clubbing instead!”

You both were interrupted by Cal sticking his head inside the backstage area.

He could tell something was going on by how you were red in the face and your heads were inches from each other. It did not look like the romantic kiss you were about to prepare for.

“Ash, it’s now.” Cal didn’t want to sound like he was stepping in.”

“5 more minutes Cal. I’ll be right there.” Ashton didn’t want to snap at him but it happened anyways.

Cal’s eyes widened and he hurried out at the door again not wanting to disturb.

You stood for a second not knowing what to say but you got right back into the conversation again.

“Don’t you understand that I miss you and that is the problem? I feel like I dedicated so much to go on this tour with you because I love you and I don’t think I’m able to go so many months without seeing you!”

“And don’t you think I appreciate that?” He crossed his arms, “But we both know that we agreed that I’d go to anything that’s important on this tour even if it meant I couldn’t bring you along.”

“You categorize this as important?” You ran a hand through your hair frustrated, “Ashton, anything than that would be better, I know it’s for the experience but god damn you can just drink at the hotel floor instead!”

“I know the struggles Y/N, okay, I understand that you’re furious.” He tried to calm down even though he thought you were overreacting.

“But I’m just asking for this one night. I know that all the others were less special but I’m just asking for this okay.”

“No.” You were quick to respond. You didn’t want to sound like his mom but you needed to show a point.

“I want you to be home with me because I am that selfish. I don’t feel like I see you and I know you don’t feel the same but I miss you so much it fucking hurts.”

“Don’t talk like that because you clearly don’t know how I feel.” Ashton shook his head in disbelief and raised his voice.

“I miss you so much it hurts as well and no matter where I go I think about you!”

“Why don't you just cut a night for once? Be with me instead.”

“Because I feel like I’ll have a night left out. You don’t understand how it is to live on the road like I do and I want every experience with me in the back pocket!”

“But why did you bring me along then? There was no purpose of having me here if you don’t want to spend time with me.” You were to the point of crying.

You were never the ones to fight, you could have different opinions and discuss it but never have an actual fight about it.

“You’re right, you’ve only been a block to my ankle the past weeks. I’ll buy you a plane ticket and then you’ll get the fuck out of my sight until this tour is finished and we’re over.”

That was when the harsh silence hit the room.

Your eyes widened in surprise so much you didn’t know what to say. Ashton’s face was exactly the same, an expression of regret and guilt filling in his eyes.

“Oh my god.” He was shocked over his same expression, but before he could continue his words Cal stood in the door again with the rest of the boys.

“Ashton it’s now!” Luke almost to yell.

“Get your ass out here!” Michael agreed and the three of them walked forward to grab Ashton’s arm and pull him out of the room.

“You can eye-fuck each other through the screens,” Calum mumbled and you watched Ashton glance over his shoulder before he was pulled out of the room and the door was shut.

You were feeling how your lips were trembling by the sudden silence. You were feeling how it was killing you inside slowly and you sat down on the couch again in case you were about to break down.

The crowd started to scream on the TV screen and you looked up to see the boys run one by one on the stage.

What was different from any other show was that Ashton wore the exact same expression as yours and you had no idea how you were going to survive through this.

Read part 2 here

[badlydrawndrawnings]

ASOUE SEASON 3, Part 2

There are some things that I enjoy, some things that bug me, and some of those things that bug me are thing I do enjoy but i have to question regardless. The post grew so long I’m cutting it into two parts, and frankly this covers The PP and The End (part one won’t be linking because idk what Tumblr did with that update with links).. We are in the second half of the season, and boy, do I have a lot of hot opinions! Most of it it’s under the read more to not cog the tags.

Frank, Ernest, and Dewey: I feel so validated my theory of Dewy was talking to the Baudelaires last and pretending to be Frank or Ernest is confirm...here at least! Speaking of them, I think Frank was the first one the Baudelaires talk too, then Ernest talk second. In the first convo, Frank or Ernest was Serious and To the Point, and Frank (confirm in book it’s Frank)) was like that with Violet. In the second convo, Frank or Ernest was Friendly and Emotional with his words, and Ernest (confirm in book it’s Ernest) was being a bit cheeky with Klaus and humorous when lassoing Larry Your Waiter up (RIP). Sorry about your brother you two... but boy the shot Dewy floating in the water looks beautiful. 

I think the show was trying to pull a red herring that Kit was ‘evil’ due her asking Dewy to give Frank her regards because no one knows about the unicorn that is Dewy.

Lack of Sir and Charles/Switching roles/The JS Debate: I learned beforehand Charles’ actor couldn’t make it to filming so they had to rewrite him out. Didn’t expect to get rid of Sir (granted, I hear Sir’s actor is like..expense to get back or something and season one was lucky to get him). Still, nice to see that they were able to get Jerome to fill in his (kinda) canon role and Charles. Also, are Charles and Jerome together? That’s a great step up Jerome! Also, nice to know Babs and Miss Bass are together (man I wonder how the in-laws will react to that). I think what really threw me into the loop is that the Netflix Show made JS, the person behind it all, to be Justice Strauss with others JS helps. Correct me if I’m wrong, but the book had ‘JS’ be anonymous as not even Justice Strauss or Jerome knew who is the real JS since they thought it was meet for them (with theories saying it’s Lemony pretending to his brother and the taxi driver in the PP is him. Thanks Netflix for actually confirming the taxi driver part). Didn’t mind Nero being with Esme. I like that (they didn’t show the report who name I freaking forgot. Guess that says something).

At the Opera Tonight & (Lack Of) Bertrand : Hey, Netflix...Olaf’s parents death was A HIT MURDER by Beatrice, The Snickets (Kit and maybe Lemony if 13 Secrets is valid, who know about Jacques), and most importantly, BERTRAND. The books made it clear both were involved in some way or form. In fact, the lack of Bertrand is so insulting. Lemony may not say talk about him too much, but damn it, Lemony liked and respect Bertrand and never hold a grudge. Lemony in the show is the same, just less because the writers really did put more of an emphasis on Beatrice as the Lost Lenore and true OTP (????). In fact, why did the Opera events paint the noble side of VFD good with the accidental death? It was hit, and everyone was guilty and not free of sin. Here though, they are guilty as hell but free of sin as ‘it was an accident’. Well, since Bertrand wasn’t involve in the events here...the guy is actually innocent and free of sin good job Bertrand you don’t have blood on your hand (this sounds like sarcasm but it’ not). Also. you a handsome man.

Personal Headcanon That I Will Never Let Go Now Due to the Above Nonsense: Olaf’s parents were part of VFD, and were sympathetic to the fire starting side of schism, but overall close to neutral (Olaf didn’t and will never know, and book implies the schism wasn’t bad until after Olaf did his thing to frame Lemony for the crimes), due to their positions of society as aristocracy, a father in a high government related job (thanks Netflix for making Dad the Chief of the Official Fire Department it almost lines up perfectly) and mother as A-List Theater Performer. They managed to get a faster reunion when Olaf is 17 (Lemony, Olaf, and a few others are supposed to be the same age while the other siblings are older by a few years, and 18 seems to be the legal age of becoming an adult in this world). The three were at the opera for their first time reunion, and Beatrice and Bertrand were given the task on getting rid of them, and they thought ‘oh this will be easy’ because Kit was helping to deal with Esme and they succeeds. They were about to celebrate and leave when they hear Olaf and see him running to his dead parents (they have no idea he was there. If Lemony was involve, then they did knew but used Lemony as a distraction to make sure Oalf won’t witness the deed. As to why Olaf as to see the body? Because seeing a body adds extra fuel to people waiting revenge). Olaf is still on the noble side at this point (if barely), and he doesn’t know the truth until later, after somehow losing the family fortune and a switch to the fire starting side. Incompetent banking may or may not be involve. 

Hotel Denouement (Fire): Bit upset the sign isn’t written backwards, but hell, I want to stay there regardless!!! Also, I like how the show kept most of the fates a mystery expect Justice Strauss (how did she get down from the roof). The books implies Mr. Poe will die another night, so ergo in Netflix Show Mr. Poe and oddly enough, Vice Principal Nero of all people, survive as well. Thanks Nero for saving Mr. Poe for his offscreen date in the future. Side topic, but my headcanon in the books is (excluding Mr. Poe as his is given) Esme, Ernest, Hal, Hugo and Colette and Kevin survived. Those that made it out but died due to fire related injures later on (within a day or a week) would be  Frank, Jerome, Charles, Sir, Nero and the Teachers, and Carmelita. Everyone else is 100% dead (guess I got to change my 100% dead Justice Strauss status lol). The choices were pick due to drama (Esme cares for Carmelita and would be 100% heartbroken to see her die after the two made it out. For Frank and Ernest, I figure losing one brother would change their hostile relationship to a reluctant team up to get out of the fire together. Frank, being noble, gets Ernest out first resulting getting injuries and dying later, leaving Ernest all alone. Sir and Charles were still holding hands when they got out, but Sir died first and Charles went next due to a broken heart) or luck (Hal survived one fire already; I want Hugo, Colette, and Kevin to catch a good break). 

I cried when the ending happened that song f*** me up so bad like things could have been different and happy but I’m stuck in misery and woe. 

THE END/VFD AND SCHISM: I HATE THIS EPISODE SO FREAKING MUCH. Well, the Island parts (lol the red herring of Beatrice II being Sunny just by wanting to be call by her last name). They cut characters stuff with Friday (and her mother), the mutiny (that was the best part!!!)...almost all the stuff that made The End good! Also, wtf was with the BS of Ishmael making VFD? Like, I like how he was the Principal, that I can accept. But I got the impression, and it was actually implied, it been around for a long time before Ishmael was even born. He made it sound like a book club for the prestigious good people that are rich and bored. Newsflash Netflix: IT’S NOT.  Kit flat out mentions that the schism started when she was four, and it only got worse when her generation came. In fact, the schism only got worse when Olaf went after Lemony, making it the schism everyone knows today. The way the show paints it...it’s the pettiness form of petty and revenge and actually revenge I would like normally but I hate it in the context. I have more, but I’m be making a post about it...a (crack-ish/shitpost comparison of sorts you will of sorts. All I can say is the the White Face women are younger than they look or lost their family and sister in a fire while in their 20′s or 30′s (Ishmael and the Man with Beard but no Hair and Woman with hair but no Beard and Co -> Lemony and Co aka Schism start at teenage/young adult years -> Baudelaires and Co).

Honestly the good stuff was Sunny thinking of pushing Olaf overboard, and the whole thing leading up to Olaf and Kit’s death I cried so much.

Chapter 14: Okay, I’m a sucker for a happy ending after so much crap happened. Lemony and Beatrice II found family again (if for a short time), Fiona and Fernald got a Pushing Daisies ending when Captain Widdershins shows up (referring to Emerson Cod’s reunion with his daughter), Quigley reuniting with his stock footage siblings + Hector, the Troupe having a happy ending fulling their dream, and IDV maybe making it to the the islanders in time. Do I admit that the whole point of their ‘last appearance’ with the Great Unknown (or IDV just disappearing) is to give a message that you can’t always know what happens and mysteries are still out there (imo). Yes, but again, I’m a sucker for happy endings, so I’m fine either way. Also, in Season One there was a narration of Lemony with a very tiny Self Sustaining ship in the BG. Since we know Lemony is actually narrating from the future...it’s a given the Quagmire and Hector would survive. It’s a blink and you miss, but it’s there. So yeah, while everything else could be chalk up as a fake happy ending imagine by Lemony and/or Beatrice II, the Quagmire Triplets and Hector were given a happy fate from the start! Okay, I guess they still need to come down at some point but...

I would watch the PP episodes, but never the End unless I want to make myself angry.

[deborahcastellano]

Almost a Year: First Book Adventures

None of this process of a dream realized was easy or natural for me.  So many of my fellow occult authors have fond stories of being offered a contract because their editor read something they had written and were so enchanted that they were nearly immediately given a book contract.

I wasn’t.

I wrote in Llewellyn’s annuals for years.  I blogged for even longer.  I didn’t even pitch this book to begin with, to be honest.  I pitched a Kitchen Witchcraft book but I had written in enough annuals at that point that I realized that writing two hundred pages of recipes sounded like an unadulterated circle of hell of my own making that when my editor had notes for me about it before she pitched it to the shadowy Vision Board, I said, I want to pitch something else.

Now, at this point, I had been doing research for months, I’d been practicing recipes for months, I had written 10,000 fucking words and a full pitch.  In one email, I napalmed months of careful labor.

I said, Everyone has some glamour naturally, some people have a lot of glamour naturally where everyone wants to hand that person their wallet, their spouse and their car to them.  Most of us (myself included) can’t do that naturally.  Not having a lot of glamour naturally myself, I’ve done a lot of magical work to enhance it and it’s worked.  Really, really well.  I think it’s something Witches are quick to dismiss but it’s hand to heart life changing.

She said, okay.  Pitch it.

And I was, like, so excited for a hot second until I realized that meant doing all that work again and I think I gently rested my forehead to my desk for a moment.  But I did it and she pitched it and I waited to see what the Vision Board would say.  I was so scared they wouldn’t take it and that my career as an author would be over before it started.  It was a long week.  A very long week where I only told a very small handful of people what was going on.  Gordon was always so secretive in his planning and plotting and I thought, I will never be able to do that.  But I did and I’ve come to play my cards very close to my chest too.  Because it’s too scary to put it out there.  Because I didn’t want everyone else’s wishes and dreams and magic to get muddled up into mine.  I needed a clear, clean line.

I got the contract while I was at my desk on a very dull day at work.  I immediately rushed into my mother’s office and hissed, I got it, I got it, I got it!!!!!  And she hugged me and there was that profound sense of relief that I wouldn’t have to carry it all anymore.  I could lay it down.  I could put it on paper.  I could finish this dream that I started when I was nine.  I visited the graves of the people I had loved to tell them that I would finish this, which left me heavy with their hopes and dreams that never came to pass.  That I would do it for them by writing this book that they wouldn’t really have understood, like my mom and sister didn’t.  They both tried diligently to read it, but my brain was too strange, too foreign for them to for them to read more than a few polite chapters.  They were more interested in the cover art, the numbers, the podcasts, tax implications (for my mother) and the things that made sense to them.  I learned during that time, when I thought I would be devastated if the people I loved most never read any of my book that it didn’t matter if they did.  They understood how important this was for me, they showed up for me.  I didn’t write this book for them, I wrote it for you.  Their jobs were never going to be to understand my work, their jobs were to support me while I was working.  And oh lordess, I needed a lot of support.  And I was granted it, over and over and over again.

Most of my writing happened during tax season.  You have to understand, tax season is a time where all you do is chop wood and carry water.  The idea of doing anything else during that time, the time where your brain had been essentially squeezed through a toothpaste tube for over ten hours a day was unthinkable.  It’s like trying to put the toothpaste back in the tube.  But I did.  I chopped wood and carried water at work and then I went home and chopped wood and carried water where ever I was writing (home, locked in an isolation chamber in my library, coffee houses, cruise ships, where ever).  All the other authors I knew made it look so effortless.  They were the equivalent of that annoying mom everyone knows – the one who went to prenatal yoga and looked blissful the entire pregnancy and ate perfect healthy things for their perfect healthy bodies and gave birth in a water bath with a doula and cleaned up baby and herself the next day to take irritatingly perfect Vogue esque pictures of themselves.  Me, I had my head in a toilet the whole pregnancy and ate a shit ton of ice cream and got hella fat, pushed futilely for hours with an epidural and then needed a C-section and then to add insult to injury, had postpartum to boot.

Always, in the past, people had read my work as I was going.  My beta readers read my first few chapters and had really helpful notes.  But usually Jow reads everything.  But with nursing school and the speed I had to write . . .it just wasn’t possible.  No one had read all of it until Elysia did.  Which was terrifying.  It felt like being at the bottom of a well where no one could understand fully what I was trying to do besides a couple author friends.  But even then, most of their processes weren’t so . . .arduous.

I had just finished writing my book two months ago when it was time to go to a large festival I love.  But the thing is, at that point, I was basically feral.  I had maybe two hours a week of interacting with people who were not Jow.  And now suddenly, I was surrounded by ten thousand members of one of my tribes and . . .all I could do was cry and fight with anyone who had the misfortune to care about me and interact with me.  I was so anxious, it was so hot that waves of humidity would come off the lake at 11:30 at night.  I hadn’t been that miserable for that long in a long time.  Adding to my misery: an email from my editor crisply informing me (in summary) that if I wanted my book to go out in the May catalog, I had better get my shit together and make my edits.  Within two weeks.

It was August.

So I locked myself back into the library’s isolation chamber and wrote and edited and worked my ass off.  Eventually, there were other things to do – reading the check copy, reading the galley (last looks!), approving the cover art, continuing to work on the marketing approach, planning the launch party.  I love my cover so much, it’s like it was pulled directly out of my word filled brain.

Launch day, Jow was working and then had nursing school til late.  I spent the day feeling isolated, my mom made lunch plans with a coworker (thanks, mom) and all I kept thinking is that my uncle (whom I had dedicated my book to) would never see it.  And I promptly sunk into a deep depression that lasted for several days.  Like normal people who accomplish their life’s dream do.

My darling PAH Gordon interviewed me the evening of my book drop on his show, Rune Soup.  I am actually not so secretly shy about my accomplishments and always feel a bit awkward lauding them, but since Gordon was at my wedding, it’s one of my favorite podcasts I’ve done to date (along with Down at the Crossroads – Chris and Tara also have the misfortune to know me in real life).  I remember Gordon saying something along the lines of, why glamour?  We had already been talking about all my cemetery habits and I know for a science fact my mother cannot operate podcasts, so . . .for the first time since I started talking about glamour, I was painfully awkwardly honest.  I replied with something like, Um.  Because I was never the pretty one.  My sister was. And if I could never be the pretty one, there had to be a way around that right?  So if I couldn’t be pretty, I could learn to be glamorous.  I could get around it that way because I didn’t have to be pretty to be glamorous.  

My launch party was held in the club I had loved best as a twentysomething. To say they were good to me would be the understatement of forever, they were so excited to have one of their girls made good, they treated me like an actual princess (yes, the p-word).  There, at my beloved club, I tried not to throw up on my shoes.  It sounds so dramatic, but that was the actual truth of what was happening.  Like, I had baby burp vomit in the back of my throat, I had gained ten pounds from all the stress, my shoulders were up to my ears with tension and I was trying really really hard not to disassociate in this moment where I had paid a decent amount of money for everyone to look at me.  I read well, thanks to all my years in mock trial and speech and debate, but I had to sit to do it because I was shaking really hard.

April2 threw me a bookerlette party with some close girl friends.  I breathe for the first time at our favorite spa in the Womb Room.

The first quarter of my book launch is a blur of in-person events where I was always terrified and self conscious, reverting back to my goddamn factory settings that I had spent nearly two decades resetting and full of west coast podcasts which were always a huge thing for me because I keep verrrrrrrrrrrry sexy hours due to my fibro where I’m usually in bed before 10p asleep during the week but now had to be totally on.  Always in the background, the publicity department hissing, you only have three months of our support.  After that you’re on your own.  It’s your first book, you want it to do well!  I was so tired.  So, so tired.   And I knew, I knew to my pinkie toes that I could still be doing more, more, more.  More podcasts, more social media, more blogging.  For everything I did do, there were four more things that I couldn’t get done.  My career looked at my book as a charming and time consuming hobby . . .as long as I never touched it at all during work hours.  Ever.  Ever.

I had trouble interacting with others, podcasts always exhausted me because I had to be on fire, totally not knowing where any line of questions were going to go at any given time, trying to read the hosts (whom I had never met) and their audiences (whom I didn’t know terribly well in most cases).  Writing, writing, writing so no one would forget about me.

Because . . .I could be forgotten.  I knew how lucky I was to have what I have – my editor, the podcasts, the appearances, the cover.  I know authors who didn’t get nearly as much.  And if I couldn’t perform when I was given so much?  What then?  The fact that I could be dead in the water one book in which somehow seemed worse.  I’d have to give back my advance.  I’d be dead in occult circles.  Harlequin was never interested in my pitches.  Where would I go, what would I do?  No one else would take me on, no other publisher would touch me.  No one would understand what I was trying to say.  Fuck, I could have been dead after writing my entire book and allowed to keep my tiny advance, my book would never see the light of day and never be allowed to see the light of day and I would be sent to the Island of Misfit Toys.  E & N are editors, it happens.  Not all the time, but often enough.  Often enough that I didn’t dick around about my edits or anything else.

The thin silver thread of sanity during this time: All of you.  All of you who sent me pictures of my book in bookstores, all of you who sent me pictures of my book on your altar, all of you who talked up my book, who reviewed my book, who said it was meaningful and that you were changed by it and that you felt understood, you are the only ones who kept me from getting in my car and driving until I got . . .somewhere.  You kept my shoulder to the wheel because you were constantly saying, I see you!  What you do matters!  We matter to each other!  Keep starting fires!

And now, I’m nearly a year with my book having been born into the world.  I spent today anxiously emailing my Sales department about book returns (the bane of every author’s existence, but mine are pretty decent) and percentages, are my eBook sales good (yes), are my print sales good (almost).

So yes, I’m shameless as you know.  Whether it’s screaming about half eaten chickens or how much bitches love candles or why you’re not important enough to hex because no one is that into you, I’m fairly consistently doing primal scream therapy as performance art and you have been gracious enough to be my audience for this long.  It’s my hope that I can prevail upon you to be just a teeny bit even more gracious.

Here’s How You Can Help Deb Keep Writing Books:

1. Buy my book (please and thank you). Glamour Magic: The Witchcraft Revolution to Get What You Want

2. If you’ve read my book, please review my book on Amazon. Amazon reviews are ridiculously key.  We hit 40 reviews today, 50 would be awwwwwesome!!!!!

3. Signal boost by regramming about my book on Insta and sharing on FB!

All I keep thinking about are the notes I’ve started writing about my next book after Sicily, after stumbling through offering my hands to the bereaved several times over this summer, my heart has been ripped open in so many places and so many ways this summer that a book has to come out of it.  I am afraid, as I always am.  JohnM, my writing partner for life (who wore a tiny silver tiara and a pink sash proclaiming him my Writing Partner MVP at my launch – No you’re crying!  You shut up!  Shut up!) has agreed to take our Monday which was supposed to be a beach day for us to instead be there for me in New Hope to hold my hand while I twibble and whine and act really undignified about this whole process because he’s also held my hair when I threw up for the first time in my apartment from Irish tequila (. . . don’t ask) and told me I was still beautiful, so he’s got this.  He’s seen me worse.  He’ll see me still worse.  He’ll tell me what’s shit and to pull myself together and do it.  Because as incredibly difficult as this has been, I need to keep doing this.  I need to keep screaming into the world.  It’s been my honor and privilege for the last eight years and I hope to have many more with you, for as long as you’ll have me.

[juuvio]

Take a Bullet For You

Haikyuu!! [Kuroo Tetsurou / Tsukishima Kei]

Genre: Angst, bit of fluff, eventual romance, semi-fantasy.

Rating: Teen & up audiences. 

SUMMARY

Kuroo Tetsurou; an empath angel with the ability to endure a human’s pain for them.

Tsukishima Kei; a human drowning in pain.

Also available on AO3!

CHAPTERS: 3/?

It is said if an angel dared to shed a tear, they would blind themselves. Of course, the majority of angels are particularly strong willed and wouldn’t even get as close as the brink of a slight eye water, but there are the odd few who let their delicate eyes pour like a monsoon. A blind angel was a downed angel, it was viewed just as bad as them losing their wings. It was like holding up a banner to show how weak that angel was. Thankfully, it was an extremely rare occurrence.

Angels walk among humans, quite obviously so. Though they’re easy to spot out, they are rare to come across just randomly. The majority of Japan had never even caught a glimpse of an angel. Angels retract their wings under their skin when they’re out and about with humans but the dead give away was their violent eyes. They bared the eyes that ranged from every shade of red in the color spectrum, but they were always a red color. It made them look scary, evil even, and not exactly the pure beings they were said to be. In fact, they weren’t entirely pure. Although they were there to ultimately help humans, they still did their fair share of disposing. If they believed a human to have wronged far too many times, out they go. In the most brutal way possible. Hunted down relentlessly and ripped apart by their clawed wings and their souls damned to the deepest parts of hell. It may sound perfect for keeping the world clean and civilised, but angels didn’t always follow the rules. Some abused their superiority, looked down on humans and even played with them like they were mere mice. Not to say they were all like that, but it was a warning that angels aren’t always what they seem. It made a few question if the existence of demons was within the angels themselves. However, the same went for humans. Some were greedy and disgusting, craving the power of angels and abused them until they broke, taking advantage of that generous trust they had placed in that human. For an angel to give their name to a human, is to sign themselves to a contract to be there for them and guide them to a brighter future until they have fulfilled their duty, but the humans need to keep their end of the deal to and can very easily misuse the trust and power of an angel.

Different angels had different abilities, may it be the ability to grant luck itself, or bless one with good fortune. Kuroo Tetsurou, an angel, was an empath angel. He feels the emotions of those close by, but that wasn’t the ability itself. His ability is to absorb negativity. To take away pain, both physical and mental upon physical contact. It sounded great, for whoever was on the receiving end. While the pain may be taken away, it in turn resided in Kuroo, feeling every ounce of the darkness. Kuroo questioned daily why he had to be cursed with such an ability, not feeling entirely generous to any human to be willing to sacrifice his own good moods for them. He’s had his fair share of abuse in the past, by greedy humans that want nothing more than to be falsely happy, even at the cost of someone else’s happiness. Pathetic, vile creatures. Kuroo didn’t exactly hate humans, but he didn’t like them enough to share his ability with any recently. He often got scolded for not doing his job, but he didn’t care. His wings may be moulting like no tomorrow but it was no big deal, he didn’t want to bare any more pain that would dare put him close to crying.

Tsukishima Kei, quiet, reserved, salty and sarcastic as can be when he does speak, and fed up. Anyone who believed they knew Tsukishima in the slightest, assumed he was an apathetic asshole. True, he came off that way. Yet he was only keeping up an emotion wall to keep his from spilling out into a bloody mess. He was used to it though, he had perfected keeping his emotions silently in check, and only gave them a breather when he was completely alone. Alone was what he was the majority of the time. His closest friend, Yamaguchi, was studying in a different university far away from his own. Tsukishima wasn’t too fond of coming to Tokyo in the first place, yet educational wise it was his best bet.

So there he was, waking up, going to class, getting back to his dorm, sleep, repeat. Sounded fun. Maybe there were people who attempted to reach out to him, but Tsukishima was too blind to see past his wall. He didn’t need anyone else, he was only there for university, not to make friends.

“Have you been eating well, Tsukki?” Yamaguchi asked over their video call, squinting to see the bright screen in his dark room.

“Been eating normal as always.”

“Three meals a day! Or more, you’re super skinny.”

“Or perhaps I eat what I can.”

“Have you seen that new movie coming out?”

Tsukishima held back a groan, it pained him to see how their conversations had fallen to something as trivial as this. Basically a hi how are you, bye, conversation. The distance between them was clearing taking it’s toll, and Tsukishima wondered is Yamaguchi had made new friends. Better friends. Friends that actually showed they cared about him.

“Tsukki?”

“Sorry, what?”

“Oh I was just telling you what that movie’s about, we should go watch it!”

“We’re hours apart.”

“So? I’ll get the train over, no biggie!”

Was he not bored of always making the effort? Was not not fed up of having these one sided conversations? Was he not done with me? “Look, Ya -”

“Uhh, someone’s calling me. I gotta go! Cya!”

Silence.

Tsukishima stared at the screen long enough for his eyes to start seeing spots and stars and he pulled his gaze away, landing on the fridge. He sat up from the sofa and took long strides towards it, opening the fridge to reveal… nothing. Gone off left overs at most. He debated whether to just starve tonight or go outside. The former sounded more appealing, but the bugging growling and twisting of his stomach was pushing him towards the latter. “Why, why, why…” He adjusted his glasses and stood back up, throwing a coat on and slipping his feet into his shoes before making his way out the door. “I really can’t be bothered.”

.

The night was quiet, the occasional drunken laughter from the straying pair who clearly lost their way. The area Tsukishima was in there were no clubs or bars, only 24 hour convenience stores. His people watching habit kicked in as he glanced over to the two women laughing horrendously and falling all over the place, looking like a complete state. “Stupid.” He muttered to himself, half wanting to laugh at how pathetic they looked. He really didn’t see the appeal in getting that stupidly drunk, for the reason people tend to act completely and utterly moronic. People are too shy and embarrassed to act like that normally, so why did people intentionally make themselves act like that? He couldn’t get his head around it.

Tsukishima grabbed what he needed and left the convenience store, no laughter to raid the quiet night. Much better. He watched his own breath cloud before him, and felt the onset of chattering teeth. Although he prefered cooler seasons to summer, he didn’t like being cold. Quite picky. The peace on the inside wasn’t so present however, and Tsukishima found himself rummaging through at least a million different thoughts. Was Yamaguchi replacing him? Was he being too blunt with Yamaguchi? Were his assignments badly written? What if he fails university? How will he pay for it? No, he’s smart he won’t fail. But what if the lack of motivation catches up to his work and starts handing things in late? He’ll fail, he’ll be in debt he’ll -

“Ugh, quit it!” A sharp voice startled Tsukishima back to earth. He frantically darted his eyes around the area and turned in every direction, but failed to find the source of the voice. “Up here, four-eyes.” Right, the one direction he didn’t think to look was up, because why the hell would someone by perched up on top of a lamp post? This damn guy.

“Quit what?” He challenged, forgetting to question why he was even up there, and also completely overlooking the fact that this guy had wings- wings? What? “Wait -”

“All that negativity and shit, I could feel it from a mile away!”

“What? How -”

“An empath angel, you could say. I feel what you feel.” The angel shook his wings out a bit, and at first glance they were beautiful, fascinating and enchanting. Yet, upon closer inspection, Tsukishima noticed how worn and beaten they looked. They were patchy, untidy, skinny from the fallen feathers although there were still a fair amount left. They were larger than the angel himself, who had a rather peculiar hair style. Dark, messy, unruly, pointing out in every direction, and a section fell onto the face Tsukishima still couldn’t make out. “Never seen an angel?”

“Well… No. It’s not exactly common.” He was tempted to ask him to come down, but in all honesty he was a bit on edge. The protruding singular claws from each of the wing’s wrists looked quite deadly at the very least. “Why are you still up there?”

“I kinda don’t wanna be right next to a total downer like you.” He snickered. Tsukishima had already released a lengthy sigh and turned away. “Wait where you going?”

“Since I’m too miserable for you -”

“Damn okay, I’m coming down alright?”

“Nope, I’ve already lost interest.” He lied, how could he lose interest in an angel? In reality, he wanted him to follow.

“Oh I highly doubt that, I can feel a bit of excitement going on deep down…”

“Get out of my head!”

“Technically it’s not intentional.”

The blond spun back around and had every known insult on the tip of his tongue, this guy was so annoying! Yet, he didn’t say a thing. He simply stood there with a finger pointed at him with all the words caught in his mouth upon finally seeing the angel’s face. Silky fair looking skin with a royal golden glow underneath, sharp jaw and cheekbones, pinkish purple tinged bags under those gorgeous crimson eyes that felt like they were staring right into his soul. Tsukishima felt… attracted. Was it an angel thing to just look so majestic? “Annoying. Stop.”

“You’re so mean!” The bed head pouted, his ivory wings lowering in a sulk too.

He let his eyes study this angel, the main thing popping to mind how the wings were going through his coat. “Do you have wing holes in your coat or something?”

“Really? Out of every question you as- Yes I do. Made them myself, save me from destroying more expensive clothing.”

“So you can like… Tuck your wings in?”

“Shed all the feathers so it’s just the bone and retract them into my back. It hurts like hell.”

“Why would you ever do that then?”

“To blend in more? I guess. It heals though. Just hope no one stares at my eyes then I’m all good. I don’t like the attention.”

Surprising, Tsukishima would have guessed he was a whore for attention by the way his hair was styled. “How old are you?”

“Someone’s curious, 264. If I were human… I’d be around 20 something?”

This was fascinating, mind blowing actually. Tsukishima was talking to a real life angel, and he was excited about it. He hadn’t felt even remotely interested in anything lately, so this felt pretty much like an orgasm or something. “Last question… What’s your name?”

“If I tell you my name I’m stuck with you until you don’t require my help anymore.”

Tsukishima raised his eyebrows, rather intrigued yet shocked at that little rule. “By not needing your help, like could I just say I don’t need your help?”

“I wish it was that simple.” He laughed. “We get like… I dunno, a feeling, when you don’t need us anymore. So in your case, when I’m certain you’re happy again without my aid.”

“I’m already happy.”

“Uh-huh… Totally.”

“I’m guessing you won’t tell me your name then.”

The angel cocked and eyebrow up, standing silently for a moment. “Well, it’s kinda my job. Here’s a deal, tell me yours first.”

“What could you do with mine?”

“Use it to address you by.”

Tsukishima rolled his eyes so hard he thought he’d lose them. He didn’t really fancy having this rooster haired, annoying angel stalk him around until he was presumably happy, yet something inside pleaded him to take this chance. Maybe the angel could make him happy. “Tsukishima Kei.”

A sly smirk crossed the angel’s face and he took a deep breath. “Kuroo Tetsurou.”

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[hollywoodx4]

Sticking With the Schuylers (39)

Hi! It’s been a crazy week, but 39 is finally done! There are so many things I want to do with this story and these characters, I’m always very happy to hear you guys are reading and enjoying because that means I get to have the most fun in this world even longer :) 

Shoutout to @oosnavi for being my sounding board for the 2 weeks we’ve been developing Emily and literally listening to the paragraphs upon paragraphs I’ve sent. The true MVP right there. 

1  2  3  4   5   6   7   8   9   10   1112   I  13  14   15   16   17   18A  18B   18C  I  19   20   21   22   23   24   25  26   27  28   29   I  30  31  32 33 34 35  36  37  38 

Tagging: @linsnavi  

Warnings: This story is pretty heavy on mentions of both physical and emotional abuse.

               When an old flame dies out it leaves ashes, and embers, and rivers of tears.

               Supposedly.

               These are none of the things that Peggy Schuyler is feeling. In fact, there is a sensation of lightness when Enzo calls her to end their relationship-a really shitty move on his part-that helps to soften the blow. Instead of tears, there are upturned lips and a curious heart. She hangs up the phone, tossing it on her upturned covers, before moving to change her relationship status on social media.

               Single. The word that had once carried the weight of a natural disaster now floats in the air above her, through the glow-in-the-dark stars that line the high ceiling. It doesn’t come down to her level, although she feels it should be. And in this haze of feelings, of solitude and relief and peace, all she can do is shift over, grabbing her phone and holding it gently between two hands. His name is still etched in her contact list, four letters. They’re just that-letters. Attached to the name is a photograph, one they had taken while stuck on the subway one afternoon. Enzo is fun, lighthearted. His broad nose and face-consuming smile bring her own lips to turn in the memory. They joked, they laughed. He was comedic, and impulsive, and just weird enough to bring into her circle of misfits.

               But even then, had he been enough? She should be crying-isn’t that what girls did after breakups? She hadn’t cried when she’d broken up with Leo or Nick, either, but she’d been young then and the relationships consisted of group trips to the movies and sweaty hands held over greasy, aromatic popcorn. This should be different. Peggy had been dating Enzo for a few months; they’d gotten serious. In this frame of time, in his mind, serious had meant a few fumbling moments of awkward sex while her parents were out of town and ‘really great’ beer purchased by an older cousin of his. She’d thought it was cool, feeling older and more mature even though the beer made her stomach bloat and her head spin a little.  And sure, the sex was awkward but when Peggy had told Maria about it she’d just laughed, tipping her head back and shaking her head. It’s just because he’s your first. It’s always awkward the first time.

               It hadn’t gotten less awkward-in fact, the longer their relationship progressed, the more out of place Peggy began to feel. She wasn’t sure just what was wrong, or how to fix it, but she knew it couldn’t be Enzo. He hadn’t changed one bit. He hung around a separate crowd-ones who were swimmers like he was. They weren’t particularly harsh but Enzo’s friends weren’t the nicest, either. They were concerned with higher-class outings and getting drunk on their parents’ boats. She often sat low in the bleachers, watching him swim back and forth with concentrated gusto. He was good, but not the best. He liked to pretend that he was, though. He’d climb out of the water, shining with fresh droplets that cascaded down bare skin as if they belonged there, and reveled in the cheering of the crowd. This was-is-his home. Peggy, on the other hand, holds court with a grouping of mismatched friends on fire escapes with vodka mixed into sugary drinks. She prefers these nights, when inhibitions are released and expectations forgotten. These people, this family of friends she had acquired, don’t treat her any differently. Their statuses are different; a scholarship student, an immigrant, a wild child, and a senator’s daughter…together, they fit. Together, they enjoy their nights on the rooftop as equals in their own right. Societal standings cannot find them hovering above the city lights.

               Not even Enzo could ruin their nights above the crowds. He’d been invited; multiple times, in fact. But each time he answered Peggy’s request with a hesitation that ended in words woven together on the spot. An excuse. She’d known that each time, but let it slide. He’d never liked her friends, but she’d never particularly wanted to include him in their plans anyway. She and Enzo were their own separate unit, away from friend groups and families and anybody else but themselves. That’s how he liked it-and Peggy, as well. While others worked best as one unit joining everybody together, they kept things simple. Easy.

               But easy hadn’t been comfortable-it hadn’t been right. While the relationship had been pleasant and the sex adequate enough, Peggy craves more than that. She knows that what she’s missing isn’t the level of devotion Eliza and Alex have for one another, or the simplistic domesticity of Angelica and Church. She and Enzo hadn’t had any of that, but her mind and her body don’t seem to pull toward it. Whatever it is that he doesn’t have-whatever is making her so nonchalant about the breakup of a three month relationship-she wishes that she could decipher just what’s going on.

               She calls Eliza first, and it’s when she conferences in Angelica that’s when her middle sister knows that something must be up. She doesn’t sound upset, however. She speaks in her normal, lifted tone as if it were just another day. But it isn’t. When she breaks the news to her sisters they gasp, both speaking at once. The general consensus, she gathers, is the question of how he’d done it.

               “I mean, he called me. Just now.”

               “He called you?!” Angelica spits her consonants with harsh diction, and although they’re only speaking through the phone she translates the very sudden and visceral protection through the hardened tone of her voice. Peggy cringes, shaking her head. But before she can respond, Eliza jumps in. She’s more calm; even and gentle as she speaks.

               “Are you alright?”

               “I think so…no, I am. I am alright. I feel like I should be really mad but I’m not.”

               “He was a jerk anyway.” Angelica interjects, letting out a breath of air. “You‘re way too good for him. I can’t believe he did it over the phone though, what kind of asshole,”

               “Ange, it’s alright. I’m over it.”

               “Are you sure? Because I can come over there, it’s not a big deal. Maybe I can even stop by his place on the way there, just have a chat…”

               “I mean I wouldn’t object to that because it was a dick move but I’m fine, so we’re just going to leave it. He did the right thing,”

               “-In a shitty way,”

               “-But it still was the right thing, Ange.” Peggy lays across her bed, phone pressed to her ear, listening to the evolution of a conversation between her sisters. It’s a debate, actually, over her situation. She doesn’t join in. She doesn’t feel like it. In her train of thought, he’d broken up with her and that was it. What was the sense in getting worked up over a moment that left no hard feelings on her part, anyway?

               The week crawls slowly for Peggy, who is back at school from winter break while her sisters are god knows where, basking in the freedom of another week away from their responsibilities. They’ve come to visit a few times but she’s been in school, stuck in uniform pretending to care about senior studies while sitting in the back of the class with Maria, her best friend. The news of her breakup with Enzo had spread rampant, and even before she’d set foot on campus that following Monday she’d been bombarded with questions. Most of these inquiries came from strangers who pretended to know her; one-sided acquaintances who were more interested in her amount of Twitter followers than her actual life. She takes these things in stride, brushing off the comments in a nonchalant light.

               “He and I are fine, we just…didn’t like each other anymore.”

               Maria thinks she’s ridiculous. But then again, that’s her best friend. She’s more like Angelica than anybody else, ready to throw back insults if Peggy seems even slightly offended. She restrains Maria. She’s not sure why everybody is making such a big deal of things. It was only three months. It was only a few awkward afternoons in one of their bedrooms while their parents worked. Enzo hadn’t really even been a big deal. He still isn’t. And now, as passersby watch as she waves to him in the hall, she wishes the entire relationship hadn’t happened at all. If life after a breakup was supposed to be all drama and tears, why even bother with one in the first place?

               Also, what did feeling absolutely nothing at all make her, or their relationship?

               She’s still mulling the situation over on Thursday night, curled up on the window seat with a steaming mug of hot chocolate. She’d burrowed herself deep into a YouTube rabbit hole, progressing from makeup tutorials to toy reviews to personal vlogs from people all over the world. She’s content in this place, where she can be alone. Her mother had gone to a book club meeting, and her father had holed himself up in the office after a Christmas break that had lasted ‘far too long.’

               Her private time is interrupted by a shift of weight on the grey plush cushion, a shadow cast on the window she’d been staring at. Eliza pulls the end of Peggy’s blanket so that it’s draped in the middle, over both of their legs, before taking a sip of her own large mug of cocoa. It isn’t like Eliza to stay away too long; although Peggy had said time and time again that she was fine, her middle sister isn’t one to drop the subject and move on. Angelica tends to see the other side of the issue; what had been wrong with the boy to hurt one of her sisters. More importantly to her would be what she could say to them in return for the heartbreak. Eliza, on the other hand, had always been the one to tend to her sister’s moods and well-being rather than the actual issue. She’s the counselor, the spokesperson of the heart. This is why, when she looks up at Peggy from a sip of cocoa, the younger Schuyler actually groans.

               “I brought you some things-just some candy, and some bubble bath, and a new lipstick. I know you said you don’t want to talk about it,”

               “-Bets, I never said that.” Peggy sits up, using one hand to push back the wild curls from the frame of her face. She’s exasperated. The word breakup has become overused, so much so that it feels like it goes right through her, in one ear and right out the other. “I said I was fine about it.”

               “I just wanted to make sure. You remember my first real breakup? With,”

               “-Henry Ackert, yes I know. He was the ‘love of your life’ and he broke up with you in the middle of the cafeteria freshman year and you cried in front of everybody and Angie punched him. How could we ever forget?”

               Eliza sits back then, and for a moment a pang of offense crosses her features. She smooths it out quickly, though, sighing before reaching for her sister’s hand.

               “My point is, I’m here. If you want to talk. Or not, that’s fine too.”

               “Honestly? I’m kind of done with this whole breakup thing. Can we do something? Something that doesn’t involve you giving me a sugar-coated pep-talk about valuing myself as a human being and how I need to dig inside of my heart and listen to my feelings?”

               The words don’t come from the younger sister as harsh, or ungrateful; rather, they’re jesting. Peggy has one eyebrow raised, lips turned up in a smirk as Eliza raises her hands and shakes her head in disbelief.  Her little sister knows her; the words from her mouth are an exact outline of what she’d prepped to say on the way over. She’d expected tears, and hugs, and honestly a lot more hot chocolate than they’d drank. But then again, this is Peggy; a constant surprise, a continual outpour of loud laughter and impulsive choices. She’d always been the one to turn everybody else’s bad days into fun ones.

               Eliza knows that this is what she must need-they’d all been through the breakup circuit at Manhattan Prep before, she knew what it was like to be the one everybody suddenly couldn’t shut up about. And that kind of limelight; the pity, the ‘what actually happened’ kind of talk…is exactly what Peggy can’t stand. The older Schuyler understands her sister’s pain, but not the recommended dosage of social medication needed to bring her little sister’s mood back up. For Angelica, the two of them would sit on the bed and listen to her rant until her face turned red. Eliza would heal with a few sad movies and some ice cream. Peggy-Peggy hadn’t yet experienced the breakup of a long-term relationship. But she was her party-loving, social butterfly of a sister. The treatment had to fit the patient, and she’d been all wrong about how to help her sister.

               “Hey, Alex and I are going to John’s tomorrow for tapas. There’ll be music, family…a perfect distraction. Wanna come with us?”

               It doesn’t take long for Peggy to formulate her answer. Her plans for tomorrow night had included nothing but staying in with their parents-meaning long conversations at the table, and leaving the meal early to get away from any more questions about Enzo or school or topics that she just no longer cared to speak about. At least with Alex and Eliza and John there would be good conversation…normal conversation. And then from what she knew about John from game nights and the sporadic hangout over Alex and Eliza’s dates that they’d crashed, he was pretty entertaining. There’s a weird sense of humor about him that she enjoys, a shameless mixture of dad jokes and on-the-spot comedy she hopes will be helpful in curbing whatever kind of slump everyone seems to think she’s in.

               The next day, she tags along in the car for the short ride to the Laurens apartment. Alex begins a full-blown thesis about ‘boys like Enzo’ that nobody asked him to complete. Eliza shakes her head at him, still lovingly, while Peggy stares at him through narrowed eyes. He responds with the idea that this pseudo-lecture is something she needs to hear, although she’d just had to listen to a different variation on the same topic from Angelica just hours before. That hadn’t been as bad as this ranting. Nothing beat Alex when he got off on a tangent.

               That’s what they’re discussing when they walk through the door- Eliza leads, apologizing for the scene behind her before hugging Valeria and John in turn. Aromatic scents waft from the kitchen, the sound of brassy trumpets and acoustic guitars floating above them. Peggy and Alex add a dissonance to the mood. She rolls her eyes as he speaks one hundred words in one second, with flailing arms and a hand on her shoulder, breaking down his thoughts on the proper treatment of a breakup. Eliza slides between them, ending their conversation with a bemused expression shot Alexander’s way. The lift of his eyebrows and mouth slightly agape tell Eliza that he’s slightly offended. She ignores the concept completely.

               “This is my sister Peggy.” Eliza gestures toward her with a long, graceful turn of her arms and she nods, responding with a slight wave and a smile.

               “Thanks for letting me join in-tapas sounded so much better than take-out Chinese and listening to this one rant at me all night.”

               “It’s really no problem, sweetheart, any Schuyler is a friend of ours. Come in and take off your jacket, we’ll have dinner in an hour.” Valeria bustles back to the kitchen, where her voice lifts and chirps along to the radio in a free-formed version of a scat. In the living room, John has already gone back to the sofa, patting the place next to him. Eliza settles easily between him and Alex, John shifting her closer to his side and propping her against him. Alex feigns jealousy, kicking his feet over the pair and taking up the largest portion of the couch so that his feet are next to John’s face. He laughs before shoving them off, shaking his head and shouting about the smell of sock-clad feet mixing terribly with beer.

               Peggy lingers for a moment, scanning the situation before finding an empty seat next to a face she’s never seen before. She makes a beeline for the other half of the loveseat, grinning before settling herself in.

               “Mind if I sit here? I’m really not looking to get maimed by Alex’s gross socks either.” The girl nods, the only noise a hum of approval just barely loud enough to hear. Her gaze is cast down to her phone, and although she tries Peggy isn’t quite close enough to get a look at what might be keeping her from making a real introduction. She turns her attentions to the three on the long sofa for a minute; their escapades have died down, Eliza settling for her head on John’s chest and her legs slung over Alex’s. They’re deep into conversation about some show Peggy has never seen, and soon the comparisons of characters from season one to three bores her.

               When she turns her attention back to the girl next to her she’s still on her phone. Peggy bites her lip and waits. Then, she clears her throat. The girl barely budges. Finally, the youngest Schuyler has had enough. She shifts her weight higher on the couch, smoothing the fabric of her grey knit sweater with purpose. She won’t let it slide like Eliza would. She won’t make a huge deal out of it like Angelica would. No, Peggy Schuyler would take being ignored in a completely different direction.

               “Hi, I’m Peggy. I don’t think we’ve met yet?” It isn’t the way her voice inflects-that is completely normal. Peggy Schuyler uses her loudest voice to get these words across, so much so that her companion jumps from her seat with the sudden influx of noise. The Schuyler stifles a grin and tilts her head slightly, waiting for the girl in the seat beside her to say something.

               The first thing Peggy notices is how beautiful the girl is-when she finally looks up at her it’s through dark eyes that make immediate contact with hers. She has hair the color of espresso that falls in effortless waves past her shoulders. She pushes it back from her eyes before holding out her hand, nodding.

               “Emily.” And that’s all Peggy gets. The girl kicks one leg over the other, leaning back against the couch before casting her gaze back down at her phone. It hits her very suddenly, how short their interaction had been, and she looks up at their company to see if anybody else noticed the exchange. John is staring at them, and shrugs his shoulders at the youngest Schuyler before reaching behind him. He takes one of the circular throw pillows on their seat and chucks it over the coffee table, hitting Emily square in the head. John whoops and high-fives Alex, Eliza and Peggy looking on in horror.

               “Hey Em, we have company.”

               “I’m aware of that, John, but I,” There’s a shift in John so sudden that the room is filled with it, an unannounced feeling directed only at Emily but shot throughout the entire room. He looks at her with lifted eyebrows and arms crossed in defiance over his chest, daring her to continue. And Emily sighs, tucking her phone into the pocket of her elaborate elephant harem pants. She shifts to sit cross-legged on the couch, an expression both embarrassed and stoic decorating her features.

               “Sorry. I was working.”

               Peggy is jarred; the slight chill of tone coming from such warmed and softened features has sent her for a loop, and it takes her a moment to come up with a suitable answer. In the end, all she can muster is an acceptance of the half-assed apology before they’re called to the dinner table.

               Valeria Laurens keeps her guests entertained with lighthearted stories and heavy food; she creates an effortless dome of conversation that Peggy has no trouble settling herself into. They laugh over stories of John’s time in little league baseball, then delve straight into a tale about the possibility of their neighbor harboring a dead body. Eliza keeps mostly to herself tonight, Peggy notices, although she seems to be very good at pretending she’s at the forefront of every conversation. It isn’t clear whether or not Alex notices. She figures he mustn’t based on the rapid-fire conversation he is having with Emily. She sits next to him with her chair pushed close, speaking low and in a rushed mixture of English and Spanish words too stirred for her to understand through eavesdropping. Every so often he nods, but says nothing past a mumble or a whisper. Peggy watches the exchange with heightened interest, but not until Eliza disrupts her.

               “Stop staring!” She hisses through her teeth, chiding her younger sister before hiding her frown in a large bite of her tapas. Peggy stares back at her in disbelief; Eliza is acting as if she can’t see the absurdity of the situation in front of her. Instead she sits back, chatting and laughing as if the girl whispering in Alex’s ear isn’t one of the most beautiful people she’s seen.

               The rest of dinner goes on as such; Peggy enjoys Valeria’s cooking and her ability to weave tales that leave her breathless. She cracks up at John’s lame attempts at food puns; badly timed and off-beat. She continues to watch Emily from across the table. Alex is clueless. Eliza smacks her leg, or nudges her, or rolls her eyes. Why are you staring?! The question lingers longer than it should. It’s for the sake of Alex and Eliza, for her sister’s well-being. Staring is just part of the process.

               When they’re leaving, sending their goodbyes and grabbing their jackets, they move in an awkward circle to hug each other before parting. Valeria plants a kiss on Peggy’s head, extending an invitation for both of the sisters to stop by whenever they please. John ruffles her hair cracking one last joke.

               When she gets to Emily she isn’t sure what to do-the girls hover for a moment before Peggy shrugs her shoulders and extends her arms to her new acquaintance. But then, she’s thinking about dinner and where all of that staring had gotten her and so she pulls away, still with one hand on the Latina’s shoulder.

               “Alex is really happy with my sister. And she’s really happy with him.”

               “Okay?”

               “I just thought you needed to know.” Emily steps back from Peggy’s touch, torn between laughing and shouting. Her unfiltered response is a laughter that spills from her with a natural gusto accentuated by her natural alto timbre. She shakes her head, hair flowing with it, before moving one of her own hands to Peggy’s shoulder.

               “Alex is my brother-my pain in the ass brother I never asked for.” Eliza and Alex stand by the door, waiting, as Peggy finishes buttoning up her jacket. She moves to join them but Emily follows, walking the short distance to the door with her in silence before holding a hand up to wave. “Eliza might be your sister but Alex is my brother, and as much as you try to protect her, I’ll protect him. Also, I like girls, if that makes you feel any better.”

               She waves one last time, to all three of them. Her eyes raise slightly at Peggy, just enough to stir her blood and bring offense to the moment they’d shared. Emily shuts the door behind them, then, a resounding click acting as the last word of conversation. Peggy stands dumbfounded and staring at the cream colored door for a moment, replaying the moment in her mind. Then, she’s strumbling to keep up with her sister and her boyfriend, who’d already started to walk away. Eliza walks in the middle, arm linked around Alex’s while Peggy squeezes in beside her. The youngest Schuyler has tensed shoulders-lips drawn into a thin line and eyes narrowed at the path in front of them. She takes breaths that are deeper than normal, more concentrated, and says nothing as they journey to the car. She huffs. She scowls. As Alex converses with Paul, Eliza finds her window to duck closer to her sister, whispering in her ear.

               “What was that all about?”

               Peggy shrugs. She turns her attention to the view outside her window, letting the mass of buildings and damp grey sky consumer her vision and begin to erase her frustration. Then she mutters under her breath, just loud enough for Eliza to hear.

               “Emily Laurens is a bitch.”

[aviationfiction]

XVI

Dante St. James

“Future’s at the club tonight. Fredrick and I are going to pass through. I know you have to finish up that proposal, so sit this one out.”

My eyes slowly panned over to the one paper ball that inevitably failed me out of the seven that I’d thoughtlessly tossed into the trashcan. I suddenly had the urge to ball up the other twelve pages of one concept I’d mustered up for the Cartier Christmas campaign. They often say physical activity is the most strenuous task one could force on the human body but that’s absolutely inaccurate. It’s thinking. Sending our minds into overdrive can craft up some of the most brilliant ideas that will contribute to continuing to make this world a so called better place or it can send a person free falling off of the nearest bridge and into the deep abyss. I’ve been planted on his counter stool for nearly six hours transitioning from small spurts of satisfaction to major moments of doubts about the entire project. I’m often referred to as the visionary of the company but I’d quickly take that title and hand it over to the next man or woman if it were simple enough. There are few things in this world that are better than a fresh mind and idea. To be progressive is to be groundbreaking, forward thinking, and a pioneer. There’s a constant need to move the world forward; it is our purpose as human beings to constantly push the envelope so those of the present can enjoy the fruits of our labor and those of the future can further expand it. The whole entire point of marketing is to put your creative mind to work and to nurture the imaginations of those tuned in.  It is that part of my job description that remains as the most challenging part.

“Why are you working on a Christmas campaign this early? Shit, we’re just getting towards the end of Spring. You feeling festive already?” Mike placed another handful of waffle fries into his mouth and he obnoxiously chewed on them while chuckling at his own commentary. “You ready to pull out that stale ass artificial Charlie Brown Christmas that you sit out on the table every year? Yo, actually, I don’t know why they’d put you of all people on a Christmas campaign for any company. You’re a jolly green giant ass Grinch. You’re a light skinned Ebenezer Scrooge. You hate Christmas.”

“I don’t hate Christmas.” I’ve chosen to center this year’s Cartier Winter Tale around it’s timeless symbol, the Panthère de Cartier. I’d envisioned the emblematic cat frolicking around in an enthralling cloudscape above Paris to the sound of Bring Crosby’s infectious and rousing classic “Here Comes Santa Clause”. While sitting in my kitchen today, I’ve also added in the touch of the infamous red Cartier boxes toppling over and slowly floating down within the city like dancing and whirling enchanting snowflakes towards festive Parisians. If that doesn’t send women into an overdrive of need and men into the stores to fulfill their requests for thousands to millions of dollars in dazzling jewels, I don’t know what else will.  

“Yes you do. You buy gifts out of obligation and you hide out here on the most family oriented holiday of the year after Thanksgiving. No, actually, Christmas is first.”

“If I hated Christmas I wouldn’t put up a tree to begin with.” He snorted while raising his left eyebrow and he quickly shook his head.

“That shit’s not a tree. It looks like twigs glued onto a pole. Only someone who hates Christmas would call that nonsense you sit out on the living room table a tree.”

“You know why I barely celebrate the holidays. This isn’t new.”

“Because you’re a Jehovah’s Witness and have yet to come out with it?” Instead of aiming another paper ball at the garbage can, I beam it at Mike and nodded in satisfaction when it collided with the side of his head and fell onto the opposite side of the island.

“Come on man. Fred and I offer you to come and kick it with our family all the time and you decline. I do Christmas at my house every year.” “I came to your house on Christmas two years ago. Remember? We played Uno with your cousins until you won because you kept being a sore loser.”

“Oh yeah, that’s right. I had to beg you endlessly for days to show up and you showed up that night, after we’d already opened up all the gifts and eaten Christmas dinner together because you’re a grinch. You looked like the only dumbass sitting at the table eating food by yourself.”

“I always eat at the table.”

“I always eat at the table.” He mocked the sound of my voice and screwed up his face at the proper etiquette. “Whatever man. Get yourself a real tree for Christmas this year and don’t skip out on coming to my house. As a matter of fact, spend the night. I’ll keep reminding you until December. I’m about to get you back into the holiday spirit. I know you’re not having kids until you’re like sixty seven and it’s going to be some oops moment that happens between you and a twenty four year old post mid-life crisis, but we need to work on getting you back into the groove of things now.”

“Sixty seven? Fuck you man.” I couldn’t help but to share a laugh with him over that insult and he shrugged his shoulders and playfully shot me a side eye.

“Unless there’s someone on your radar right now.” He didn’t have to say the name for me to know exactly who he’s alluding to. He hasn’t stopped alluding to her since the day I introduced the two of them.

“Don’t start your shit dumbass.” He smirked and as he wandered off into deep thought, his face transitioned into an earnest expression.

“Speaking of your girl, TMZ had an article up about her pending divorce today. It was somewhat of a hot topic for Stacey when we spoke on the phone earlier.” I panned my eyes down towards the papers scattered in front of me and immediately reached to take a sip of the Gatorade sitting to the left of my arm. Mike is easily Stacey’s go to person for all things gossip and pointless. Initially, I took his need to be on track of all the gossip within the entertainment industry to be apart of his job as an entertainment lawyer, but now I know about seventy percent of it is nothing more than him being nosy and proudly childish. He and Stacey often sit around like two school girls giggling about something U.S. Weekly printed, debating about the rank and relevancy of artists, and shamelessly participating in whatever “Black Twitter” is talking about. I couldn’t care less about who Taylor Swift is dating, what outlandish statement Kanye West has recently made, or whose nude pictures were exposed. As ridiculous as some of their lives are, I respect people’s privacy. I undoubtedly respect Autumn’s.

“She’s not a celebrity. Why are you two keeping track of her divorce?”

“We’re not. It just so happen to be an article. Also, it’s not only on TMZ; a couple of sports blogs have been keeping track of what’s going on. Though they use the word source, I know a lawyer’s anonymous tips when I see them. The article was written in a manner to mock her rather than to be informative. I shouldn’t expect anything decent from a website like TMZ, but there was a sarcastic tone to it. That was the tone of her lawyer rather than of Harvey Levin and his team of writers.” He balled up the wrapper his Chic Fil A spicy chicken sandwich came in and did just as I’d been doing; he turned it into an imaginary basketball and effortlessly shot it into the trashcan. “She hired Sorrell Trope and I know his ego. She caused him to take a loss. She made the decision to not take anything from Coach Harr, although the prenup was thrown out. He gets the house, both cars, jewelry, any money he placed within their joint bank account, and he does not have to pay any alimony whatsoever.”

“Jewelry?” My head slightly jerked back at the revelation and he nodded his head to reassure me in what he said. I’d never heard of a man wanting jewelry back from a woman at any point during my nearly thirty years of living. What exactly do you do with it?

“I’m not sure if he asked for it or if she suggested that she wanted him to keep it but it’s being said that jewelry is apart of the settlement. I’ll never forget when I was in law school and we spent a few weeks studying divorces, the laws that work for them, the laws that work against them, and the proceedings to get through them. I’d been like a damn war between the men and women whenever we’d have lecture discussions about what is owed and what people are entitled to when there’s wealth and profitable assets at stake. You know Nas is my guy and I’ll never forget that initial Kelis settlement. He was ordered to pay fifty one thousand dollars a month in child and spousal support. Shortly after that, he was ordered to cough up another three hundred thousand dollars in attorney fees and accounting expenses. Then the judge slapped another hundred thousand dollar order to pay up back child and spousal support. That shit left me baffled. The crazy part about it is, that wasn’t enough for her. She was initially asking the judge to award her with ninety thousand dollars a month settlement.”

“Why would she want or need so much? She’s an artist in her own right. Well, at the time she was.”

“Yeah she was but she hadn’t made the money that he did. In the case, it was reported that he was spending an estimated fifteen thousand dollars a month on lavish entertainment, gifts, and vacations. She believed that she was entitled to maintain that lifestyle post divorce. Now, you know that I’m fair. I’m all for child support, of course, I stand behind spousal support when it’s done the correct way and it makes sense. I have to shake my head and disagree with some of the absurd requests and settlements but overall, I’m for it. I say all of that to say, what the hell is Autumn doing?” The expression of bewilderment on his face left me speechless and I shrugged my shoulders. I have no answer for him. She already explained to me why she willingly signed a prenuptial agreement and I understood her stance. If I’m aligned with her way of thinking, I’d have to believe that she’s walking away knowing that she loved him and gave it her all. I suppose that’s enough for her.

“I don’t know Mike.”

“She’s a nice person man. He started a new family within the marriage. I don’t believe in karma, I believe in justice. No crimes were committed but whether you stand in front of a preacher, priest, rabbi, or a judge, there are vows and they should be upheld.”

The pain within her eyes often rattles me whenever I have the courage to stare into them. Whether she’s merrily explaining some comedic story from her past, eagerly stating her basketball preferences, or genuinely offering me her perspective and advice about whatever I’ve revealed about myself, the pain is there, lingering between the two of us and silently coercing me to wrap my arms around her petite frame and consume every ounce of it within myself so she no longer has to walk around with such a heavy burden on her shoulders and heart. She tends to go into a daze and her face contorts from a grimace to a disheartened expression that she eventually forces herself to become poker-faced about it. It happened a number of times during our dinner in Miami, as she stared out at the calm waters and admired the view. At one point it took me gently brushing my finger tips along the smooth skin of her hand to regain her attention and rather than using words, she laced her hand around my own and slightly squeezed it to assure me that she was fine. I don’t believe her husband understands the severity of his actions; most men wouldn’t. We’re hailed as leaders, profound thinkers, and pioneers of advancement but we are by far the most simpleminded of the two genders. We don’t see beyond the surface; emotionally. We’ve yet to conquer that and it’s why women, in my opinion, will always have the upper hand. He won’t understand what he’s done until one less person loves him. He’ll feel it when she’s unbelievably happy and he is nothing more than a piece of the past being outcasted by a better future.

“She’ll be alright.”

“You think so?”

“Yes.”

I gathered all of the documents into my hands and properly aligned them before sliding them back inside of the folder. I couldn’t spend another hour focusing on that campaign and it didn’t need anything else from me. Anything more could either taint it or be overkill. Cartier has never been anything less than impressed with my efforts for their company so I don’t expect a change now.

“Did you handle what I asked you to handle?” Mike glanced in my direction and abruptly paused. He then nodded his head as he finished off the last bit of lemonade in his cup.

“You know I did. Real talk, why are you doing this?” Silence fell between the two of us as we locked eyes with one another and I eventually glanced in the direction of the windows as he awaited an answer.

“Because I don’t trust them.”

We didn’t take the conversation any further. The friendship between the three of us has always stood on short explanations or none at all with plenty of understanding to go around. Whether we comprehend it or not, we stand together and offer relentless support. Our partnership is in tact business wise and most of all, personally. Much more than Matt, they’re the brothers that I need and am grateful to actual have.

“Alright Al B Sure, I’m heading out. I got a little something something happening tonight, so I need to go and get ready.”

“A date? Who’s torturing themselves by allowing you to take them to Chuckie Cheese?” We snickered at my response and he stuck up his middle finger immediately after.

“She’s a paralegal from the office.”

“You’re screwing your paralegal? That’s scandalous.”

“Says the man who’s attracted to his flight attendant. Besides, she’s not my paralegal and we don’t work on the same floor. Also, I’m not screwing her.”

“I’m not attracted to my flight attendant.” He whipped his head around in a dramatic fashion and offered me the most blank expression he could muster up on his face. He continued to stare as I raised an eyebrow at him and he slightly dropped his head to the side and awaited a moment of truth from me.

“Man, Stevie Wonder can see that you’re attracted to that woman. Are you forgetting that I was there that night at the club? I watched how you looked at the monitors, following her every move. I saw the body language between the two of you, mostly from you, at you stood there damn near whispering in her ear about God knows what, because you’re never going to tell me. Lastly, I saw you flinch while you watched another man approach her and offer to buy her a drink.”  

“You did not see me flinch. Do you ever stop exaggerating?”

“You flinched. I know what I saw. Lie if it makes you feel better.”

“I don’t lie.”

“Well, you just told one. You flinched. I’m out of here. We’re balling as soon as you come back from Paris. It’s interesting that you’re going to the City Of Love with…” Before he could finish the statement, I pushed him in the direction of my apartment’s door and pointed at it.

“Be gone man.”

“Enjoy yourself. Have a safe flight and overall trip as well. I want to hear all about it when you return.” I couldn’t contain my laughter at the smirk on his face. I won’t be telling him anything. There will be nothing to tell. By the time I finish giving him a run down of the couple of days I’ll be there, he will have interrupted me half way with a rolling of his eyes and a onslaught of phrases describing how boring I am.

“Yeah, okay. See you at the court when I get back. Bring your broken ankles.”

“Kiss my ass.” We parted with our usual handshake, and he was out of my door; slamming it in his usual fashion.

In an effort to have some genuine leisure time, I chose Netflix and eventually an order of my favorite dishes from a Chinese restaurant to consume the rest of my Sunday. The restaurant I order from is no where near the condominium I reside in but we’ve build a strong enough relationship for them to go out of their way to deliver what I prefer; of course with a nice tip. With the campaign proposal out of the way and Mike off to tend to his date, I could finally continue the Netflix series Autumn raved about. During our flight back from Miami, she praised House Of Cards for nearly a half hour. She explained just enough detail about the political drama to garner my interest and it resulted in us watching the first two episodes of season one before we landed.

House of Cards and Chinese food today. I’m going to try to binge watch the rest of season one.

I tapped the play button on the remote control and rested against the back of the chair as the text message alert sounded off within the living room.

Let me know what you think while you’re watching it. Chinese food on a Sunday? You don’t know how to cook.

I laughed at her very matter of fact statement and nodded my head. It is kind of pathetic to be having Chinese food on a Sunday but I’d take that over my other option any day.

Correct. I can’t. I know how to make survival meals and that's where it starts and ends for me.

In college, I survived off of Ramen noodles, fast food, and occasional trips to the cafeteria. Every so often, if she could catch me, my mother would drop off groceries and Tubber Wear bowls filled with whatever she cooked over the course of the week. Friends enjoy it far more than I did. If I wasn’t buried in the books, I was in lectures halls or over at A&M learning the ropes of the company from Richard and Matt.

Survival meals? Ramen, Chef Boyardee, turkey sandwiches?

All of that. I snickered at the thought of the Oscar Mayer smoked turkey deli meat sitting on the top shelf in the fridge right now.  As I tapped the message box to reply, the knock at the door halted me. Fredrick would show up out of no where and interrupt this whole entire process. It’s his style. He’s the only person I know who can easily find something wild to get into on a Sunday afternoon. With the weather being warmer, I’m sure there’s some rooftop party or outdoor brunch that he knows about. Actually, knowing him, he’d want to sail up the Hudson on a self thrown booze cruise.

“What do you want man?”

I quickly opened up the door only to be met with a face that wasn’t owned by the debonair that is my best friend. As I shifted my weight to my right foot, my mother slowly removed her cat eye style sunglasses to reveal the gleam in her eyes. They matched the smile on the lower half of her rosy face. A small sigh slipped past her lips at the sight of me and she immediately used the tips of her toes to plant a wet kiss on my cheek.

“I’ve missed you my son. Look at you. I swear you take on more and more of your grandfather’s looks everyday.”

“What are you doing here mom?” Without any regard, she slipped past my frame and entered my apartment. She halted midway through and took in the place; looking for something to either criticize or compliment.

“Well, you don’t come to me for Sunday dinner, so I’m coming to you. I have some groceries here and I’m going to make you a meal.” I stopped myself from rolling my eyes by glanced down at the floor and I nearly cursed under my breath as I listened to the sound of heels prancing across the marble flooring. My second option on Sundays is to subject myself to having dinner with my exhausting family. With every swallow of the sub par meal she prepared, I’d be tormented with their questioning, unnecessary commentary, and an argument as the finale. We’ve shared occasional peaceful moments but the bad outweighed the good by a landslide win.

“You don’t have to do that. What’s Richard, Matthew, and Camille going to have? They eat at your house every Sunday.”

“I already cooked at the house and they’re more than welcome to stop by and have what they like. Today, I’m going to make a meal for my youngest boy and figure out what the hell is going on in his life since he doesn’t bother to contact or visit me.” Her tone softened at the conclusion of her statement and I didn’t feel the slightest bit of guilt about what she said. Though she may play the oblivious role, she knows and understands what our relationship has been through and why it’s in the weakened state that it is now. There’s no need to pretend.

“There’s nothing going on in my life that you don’t already know about.”

“Nonsense. I’m going to make a vegetable lasagna. Is that alright?” I shrugged. No matter what I say or do, she isn’t going anywhere and I’d rather allow her to make the lasagna than to argue.

“That’s fine.”

In her usual fashion, she covered the island and the counter top near the stove with all of the ingredient needed to create her meatless baked pasta and finally glanced over at the black Beats Pill bluetooth speaker.

“Can you hook my phone up to that thing? I don’t know how your father does it but I’m sure you get it. Bluetooth it is?” Her thick England accent filled my ears and I grabbed the space grey iPhone off the table and tapped in the all too familiar numerical password; she and Richard’s wedding anniversary. Rather than asking her what she’d like to listen to, I opened up the Spotify app and turned on Elton John’s greatest hits. I’ve heard enough of his music over the years to be able to embarrassingly mumble the words whenever it plays.

“So how’s work?”

“You’re really doing this right now?” With a roll of my eyes, I leaned against the island and stared at her as she grabbed three pots off of the hooks of the stainless steel pot rack above her head.

“Doing what? Am I not allowed to ask you general questions about your life?”

“Ask Richard about work. Whatever he tells you is how it’s going.”

“I hear about about Richard’s days at work . I live with the man and I sleep next to him just about every night. He shares the details of his day with me every single day. I’m asking you and I expect an answer. This is what it’s come to? You’re giving me difficulty about a simple question? You’re far too old for that.” She glared at me and deliberately dropped the final pot she retrieved down on the counter.

“I’m not going to argue with you. This is why I always walk away in the first place.”

“Well then answer the question.”

“Work is work. I do what I have to do and I get out of there. Tomorrow afternoon I’m heading to Paris for a meeting with Cartier. I’ll be over there for a couple of days.” While leaning over the cutting board, she began to organize bell peppers, carrots, mushroom, asparagus, broccoli, and spinach.

“I remember the first time I took you to Paris. You were only three years old and my God, you developed an obsession for creme brûlée after the first spoonful of it. For the week we were there, we had to have it every single day; that and Parisian flan. I spoiled you. You had dessert more than you had actual food but it was such a good time and you were so adorable. You still are adorable but at that time you had the chubbiest cheeks and they were always so rosy. My goodness, don’t get me started on the curls and that huge smile. You were melting hearts everywhere we went. I had the pram with me but you insisted on walking. You nearly ruined the women’s section at Harrods when we were out with your dad.”

Of course she’d mention a trip to Harrods. I don’t know how much love and sexual relations could induce a woman like my mother into remaining a mistress for so many years out of her life. There had to be more and Richard’s pockets were exactly that. My maternal side of the family aren’t apart of the English working class. The elders were not factory workers or rural farmers. My great grandfather owned four factories while his wife worked as a well renowned seamstress in her own shop. My grandfather served in the British Army and achieved the rank of a four star general; the highest rank a man can achieve as a serving officer. My grandmother was a teacher. I don’t understand where my mothers sense of entitlement comes from. I’ve always heard the stories of her being spoiled rotten but I’m not sure what encouraged her to fall for Richard and his schemes. In her social life before him, I’m prone to believe she encountered plenty of men of wealth, so why him? Their relationship is why I’ve never met my grandparents. I used to believe it was because of the affair but I’ve never met them because Richard is black. They’re ashamed of her and I fall in that particular line of criticism by black blood and association.

“Yeah, I usually have both at some point while I’m there.”

“It’s a beautiful city; the most romantic city in the world. I swear I fall more and more in love with your father every time we go.” I pulled my lip in between my teeth to refrain from responding to her. The sound of the knife hitting the cutting board was far more pleasant than that particular statement.

“How are the guys?”

“Fred and Mike?”

“Well who else would I be talking about? They’re the only friends you choose to have.”

“They’re fine. Mike was here earlier and left because he had a date. Fredrick is home spending time with his girlfriend.” She glanced in my direction briefly before returning to the task in front of her.

“I look forward to the day when you’re introducing me to someone that you’re dating or in love with. Have you met anyone?” Though I continued to lean on the island, I straightened my back and shook my head at the question. I should have known that it’d transition as soon as I mentioned the words date and girlfriend. Though Stacey’s prying ways can be overbearing, there is a comedic relief to it. My mother can easily become insulting without any regard for her words or tone. After throwing my age in my face, she’ll began to point out certain aspects of my personality that may not appease women. Finally, she’ll began a endless guilt tripping session about her own age and my lack of concern for both she and Richard meeting their grandchildren before they’re six feet under the depths of the earth.

“Have I met who?”

“A woman. Have you met a woman that you’ve taken a liking to? Who else would I be speaking about? Unless there’s something that I don’t know.” I scowled at the expression on her face and glared into her inquisitive green eyes as she implied a fallacy about my sexuality. She’s no different than Richard. They’re a match made in hell.

“Are you implying that I’m gay?”

“I’m not implying anything.”

“Yes you did. I’m not in a relationship. I’m not screwing around or intruding on people’s relationships and marriages, nor am I gay. I’m not your only son. You should talk to the one you coddle so much about these grandchildren that you want so badly. He’s married. I’m starting to think that it’s not even fertility issues that Camille is having. It’s infidelity issues. Maybe if your darling son would stop screwing women at the office and within the cities that he travels to, he’d find enough time to lay down with his wife and create a child. I guess you’re not going to talk to him about that because you can relate, right? Hey! You may have a grandchild soon enough, but I’m not sure if it’ll be coming from Camille. We’ll see.”

At full force, she slammed the knife down and it immediately bounced off the wooden board and crashed onto the floor. The disdain on her face matched my own and she scolded me by shaking her head.

“You are impossible. You do this every single time we’re in the same room as one another. I am constantly putting forth the effort to salvage a relationship with my son! Do you understand how that feels? I worry about you. I think about you every minute of every day. I have to sit back and guess what’s going on in your life because you won’t talk to me. If I’m not guessing, I’m calling up Stacey or I’m asking your father what’s going on with you. It’s ridiculous to have to call up your assistant to ask her, hey, is my son okay! What do you want from me Dante? My life is already chosen. I’ve made my decisions. You cannot be mad at me for them. You lived a good life. You were too young to understand anything that was going on and by the time you were conscious of it we were a family. I just don’t understand why you’re like this. I can understand Matthew, but you?” As she ran her fingers through her loose curls, I chuckled at her despair.

“I’m sure you can understand Matthew. You’ve thrown yourself into kissing his ass and overcompensating for what you did to his family. You’re mommy dearest to him and you bust your ass everyday to keep up with the act. I was shipped off to Westminster School just so you can focus all of your precious time and attention on coddling him so he’ll love you and stop acting out. Get off my back. You don’t know me well enough. I’m over this. Throw that out and see yourself out.”

I left her in the kitchen and retreated to my bedroom before the inevitable argument could go any further. With her mind wallowing in oblivion, whatever is left of our relationship will continue to slowly burn out. I don’t hate her; I never have. I have a distaste for her lack of responsibility and avoidance of being held accountable for everything that’s happened within this family. Oddly, I can accept Richard having no remorse. He basks in being full of shit and being an arrogant asshole. He doesn’t sugarcoat his words or actions. My mother is a character and she’s one that can entertain and impress anyone but myself. When she finally looks into the mirror and understands who she truly is, what she’s done, and what it means, is when I’ll be able to deal with her on a consistent basis. Until then, I’d rather our moments together be brief and without many words.

I spent a half an hour lying across my bed before returning the kitchen. My requested was granted. She’d thrown away all that she’d been chopping up and neatly packed away the rest of the groceries she purchased inside of the cabinets and refrigerator. After a call to the Chinese restaurant, I returned to the couch and the episodes of House Of Cards that awaited me.

Frank Underwood is a cold man. How the hell could he just push the girl in front of the train like that?

I awaited her answer as I finished off the last bit of the perfectly seasoned and grilled chicken satay. After indulging on the entire season one, it was a no brainer to let season two begin streaming on my television screen.

I told you that you’d become addicted. Don’t become a couch potato, eating General’s Tso Chicken, and binging on Netflix because of me.

I snickered at the thought of it. If only I had the time to do so. Doing it today is something rare for me. I haven’t relaxed like this in ages.

If only I had the time to do it. What are you up to? How’s your Sunday?”

I pressed the pause button on the remote, while staring at my phone and awaiting her answer. Suddenly House Of Cards became an afterthought.

It was alright. I cooked dinner for my family, packed for Paris, and I’m now I’m getting ready for bed.

I glanced at the time. It hadn’t even hit ten yet and she’s already preparing to call it a night. She rubs me as more of a night owl.

Have you ever been to Paris before?

While standing up, I grabbed the empty container and sauntered towards the kitchen to dispose of it.

Nope, I’ve never been. I’ve been to London for the Olympics and that’s about it. I thought about going to Paris once the Olympics were over but it never happened.

As my temporary assistant was scheduling the trip for me, Autumn came to mind and I figured she’d give me the exact answer that she just did.

I set a day aside for sightseeing and anything else. We can make it two days, if that’s okay. Maybe we can go to Disneyland Paris or the National Museum of Natural History?

My stomach fluttered as I awaited an answer to my overeager requests. Beads of perspiration began to dance along the back of my neck, causing a ripple of chills to slithered down my back.

Or both? Can we do both?

A smile played along my lips and I nodded my head as if she could see me.

Yeah. Both sounds good. Do you always go to bed this early? Your sleeping schedule’s going to be thrown off with this trip.

Rather than returning to the couch, I hopped up on the counter and stared at the unparalleled view of New York City  from my kitchen window. The view is what sold me on this place.

I do when I want to run. I usually run around six in the morning so I try to get a goodnight’s rest to be energized enough to go a mile or two.

No wonder her legs are flawless.

You run track?

When we shared a bit of information about our high school days, she never mentioned being an athlete to me. I wasn’t one either but basketball remained as a hobby of mine ever since I was a kid in the city hanging out at the Boys and Girls Club after school, even when I wasn’t supposed to.

No. I run just to clear my head. I picked up the hobby about a year ago and it works. It’s exercise and therapy all at once. Being decent at it is an added bonus.

Makes sense.

I should try that. I usually play basketball to get a work out in but running might be the move.

I barely get in the gym. Fredrick damn near drags me whenever he can. I’m naturally skinny. I’m muscular enough…I think. Either way, I don’t care for it as much as I should.

Running? Ha! Can you keep up?

I raised an eyebrow at her question. Is that a challenge?

Of course I can. Remember who has the longer legs. I’ll smoke you with no apologies.

The thought of it lingered in the back of my mind and I chuckled. I’d let her win. Her gloating would be far more entertaining than my own.

Long legs with no speed. You’re going to have to prove that at some point. I’ll race you to the Eiffel Towel or something. See you tomorrow?

As I slouched forward, my fingers lingered on the screen a bit before I typed a reply.

Yes. See you tomorrow.

I returned to my couched and allowed Kevin Spacey and Robin Wright to continue entertaining me but it’d been a waste of time. As I lay there staring at the screen, the contents of the show never reached the depth of my memory. All I could think about is tomorrow.

Hues of the sunlight peaked past the clouds and lightly casted upon the marble flooring and blackened furniture in the living room. The sound of the television ceased hours ago and it was just me, staring up at the dark ceiling and reveling in the silence of the my home. With every deep breath, came a much need release and though I couldn’t sleep, my body remained still and comforted in it’s relaxed state. I tapped my fingers along the back of my phone while pondering on the idea or rather joke I’d been contemplating in my mind for the last two hours. My reluctance and a tad bit of insecurity tap danced on my conscious but the desire to act overpowered it.

As soon as my finger tapped FaceTime video call, I swiftly sat up on the couch and turned on a lamp to brighten my surroundings. She answered me within three rings. My heart viciously thumped within my chest and my eyes slightly widened at the sight of a sweaty and heaving Autumn as she stared at her screen in an amused manner. Her long tresses were pulled back into a slick ponytail, her appealing face free of make up yet effortlessly glowing, and a pair of ear buds rested in her ears while the black wire nested along her chest and trickled down between the napes of her breast. No jacket or sweater covered the neon orange sports bra hugging her upper body.

“You interrupted Aretha Franklin.”

“I called because we’re running. You’re running and I’m on the phone, so technically we’re running.” A smirk first. Then a smile. Next a blank stare. As soon as I smirked, she slightly slouched forward and I was left with an obscure view as she cackled. Her infectious laughed left me in the same state and the harder she laughed, my own continued to heighten. I didn’t expect her to find it this funny but to say I’m glad she did would be an understatement.

“You’re so full of it for that. Really? Like….really?” My breath suddenly became caught in my throat as her face reappeared on my screen and her gleaming smile resulted in my stomach twisting into the tightest knot.

“Go ahead and run. I got my timer right here on the phone. I’m about to turn it on so I can clock your time and eventually beat you.”

“That’s never happening. What, you scared?”

“Never.”

“Alright then. Race me fair and square sir.”

“Say no more. I’ll do that and win.”

“Alright then. Prove it.”

“Where are you running at anyway?” She briefly looked around as she jogged along and she glanced at the screen.

“My neighborhood. Well, my folk’s neighborhood. I run locally. I see the same ol’ people and the same ol’ sights but it works for me. Have you slept? You wake up this early for work?”

“House of Cards kept me up.” A half lie. Well, a white lie. Technically I was up watching the show.

“Addicted. I knew it. You should sleep. I know we have a long flight later but sleep anyway. You need it. You work too hard.”

“You think so?”

“I know so. I’m going to continue feeling like a natural woman as the Queen of Soul sings it while I run along and you’re going to count some sheep. Alright? See you in the air.”

“Are you dismissing me?” I smirked as she laughed.

“Bye Dante.”

After a double beep, my screen returned to the call log and I pressed the lock button. Her boldness continued to make me laugh as I finally stood up to go and get that sleep that she suggested.

I knew tomorrow would be better.

[fantasysuiteleague]

Week 2: XOXO, Gossip Girl

With so many dumb girls milling around the Bachelor mansion, still drunk from the night before and starving for carbs and attention, I'm sure it's difficult to not make the first few episodes of the show feel over-produced. Jk. We're in Season 21 and Nick is our Bachelor: everything is over-produced. That being said, this week felt particularly cringe-worthy. We kick things off with our sleep-deprived divas trying to convince us that the only thing they've been able to think about since arriving 12 hours ago is Nick. Not their phones, their families, their jobs, the presidential election. Only NICK VIALL. Right.

Enter Chris Harrison, who reminds the women that they only way they're going to stand out with this many girls in the house is to be memorable slutty. This piece of unsolicited and sexist advice triggers Manchurian Candidate Corinne, and it's all downhill from here.

Something Old. Something New. Something Topless. Something Rude.

The first group date of the episode is ultimate Bachelor irony. Actually, it feels like a storyline cooked up by Quinn and Rachel on UnREAL. The girls gleefully drive three Buick convertibles down the street to a mansion usually used to shoot adult films. Once parked, they're made to jog into the backyard where they meet up with a heavily spray-tanned man named Franco who is almost definitely an actor and/or one of the producer's friends. There, the producers dangle the possibility of marriage in front of them while simultaneously cheapening the entire experience. What's more? They've all been drinking since they arrived, and have to watch each other pose and make out with Nick. This is Bachelor 101. An incredibly basic premise that is guaranteed to spawn all sorts of jealousy, desperation, and insecurity.

The pawn at the center of this whole *experiment* is none other than that girl you wished you hadn't started a conversation with at a party: Corinne. To absolutely no one's surprise, this bitch has never been a bridesmaid. But keep in mind she's 24 and probably only hangs out with older club promoters, so this warrants no more than an eyeroll. Photog Franco, who is probably shooting a porn after this group date, *coincidentally* makes Corinne a bikini bride, and like the Manchurian Candidate that she is, all she can talk about is how sexy she looks and how it makes sense that she would be the nearly naked bride. Enter Brittany (who?), who is actually topless and actually looks very pretty. Corinne is, of course, very uncomfortable because she was programmed to be the star.

And A STAR SHE WILL BE. Left with no other options, Corinne takes her top off and *forces* Nick to hold her boobs in front of the other girls. It's pretty obvious that they made Corinne go last so everyone would be drunk enough to get pissed, and it works. Adding insult to injury, Franco picks Corinne as the "winner" of the group date, because, as she puts it, she was actually daring enough to have clothes and then take them off. Later that night Corinne continues to "project her sexuality" on Nick, stealing him first and immediately going in for the make out. Hilariously, Nick says that he's been "really impressed with Corinne so far." Yeah, having absolutely no shame is truly impressive. And she continues to impress me by interrupting other girls not once, but twice after her original make out session.

Now naturally this pisses everyone off, but NO ONE says or DOES anything about it! Ladies, I hate to repeat Corinne's advice here, but like, fucking go interrupt her and take your time. You came here "for Nick" or at least to be on TV, so fucking take what is yours! But they won't, because they're all fucking idiots. This is underscored by the repeated in-camera interviews were girls like Taylor try to convince themselves that Corinne "isn't what Nick wants" and that Nick is "better than Corinne." Taylor: get a clue. Or a job. Or watch a single episode of Andi or Kaitlyn's season. Or just like, go to a bar in River North. Then maybe, just maybe, you wouldn't sit here thinking that a guy like Nick isn't going to go for a girl like Corinne. Because he is. And sure enough, he proves it by giving Corinne the group date rose.

In between flashes of Corinne we see Raven getting some quality time in with Nick, but is any time with Nick actually quality time? For example, Raven let's Nick know she was cheated on before, and Nick's response was to direct the conversation to him and talk about how he's been cheated on. Everything he says feels so disingenuous, but that's because he always finds a way to make things about himself. So if we're being real, him and Corinne are actually perfect for each other. But we're not being real, because this is reality TV. There was, however, a perfect moment of reality TV after Taylor re-interrupts Corinne and Corinne confronts her. Corinne is pissed because "that's not the way to go about things." The way to go about things is to be "classy" [take your top off] and not direct your disrespect "towards any one person" ... just the entire group. Taylor handles the confusing assault incredibly well. Then again, anyone with an IQ over 70 shouldn't have much difficulty defending themselves against a drunk clown. Corinne quickly forgets about Taylor, gushing with pride for herself for stepping out of her comfort zone "in many different times and angles."

Playa Say What?

The second half of the episode was dedicated to the history between Liz and Nick. I can't decide if Liz is this dumb, or just starving for Instagram fame. On the one hand, I can see how a producer could convince her that Nick would love to see her again, they already have an established connection, and she'll probably go far. On the other hand, she seems pretty dumb. Sitting around the mansion all day with nothing to do but drink, tan, and get in her own head, Liz confides in Gretchen Wieners that she is Jade's best friend, didn't memorize her maid of honor speech at the wedding, and also slept with Nick. She emphasizes how wasted she was when it happened, and also how awkward it was. "Like, super awkward."

She mentions intermittent sex and talking, which is something we've heard before. This all but confirms my suspicion that Nick is actually terrible in bed. That's why it didn't work out with Andi. And sure, he fucked Kaitlyn and still made it to the final two, but that sneaky fuck sesh probably didn't give him tons of time to talk while inside of her.

The Nice Girl 

It's pretty easy to forget that Nick went on a 1-on-1 date this episode, but there's a reason for that. Danielle M. doesn't make good TV because she's not terrible like the rest of the girls. She seems like a very sweet girl and has a real job. Does she pack a lot of personality? No. But not everyone can be Alexis or Corinne or the Genie from Aladdin. There can't be complex hoes without basic bitches, and Danielle M. is that nice basic bitch. She'll stick around awhile because she's probably one of the only "real" women who, despite being pretty bland, is one of the only realistic choices in terms of actual marriage and not just Hollywood Instagram-fame. This is probably why she gets the first 1-on-1 date. She's got the hometown Wisconsin vibe and they need to get her tragedy out and on camera because she's going to fade to the back for the next 7 weeks before ultimately getting cut. During dinner, Nick goes on and on about himself and being on the Bachelorette twice and heartbreak, and Danielle M. just keeps nodding, looking bored. This whole Bachelorette story sounds like Hillary repeatedly listing her years of accomplishments during the debates while contrasting Donald's years of housing discrimination and golden showers. We get it. You get it. You're here. We're listening. Can we please talk about something else? Anything.

We Need to Talk . . .

The theme of this date -- breakups -- is comically opposite to the first in every way. The first stop is the "Museum of Broken Relationships,"  which cannot possibly be a thing that existed prior to the filming of this episode. This "museum" houses an uncomfortable amount of random shit that people have "left behind" from their broken relationships. Umm, what? Left behind from where? No one can convince me that people come to museums to break up, or that they send objects from their failed relationships to be put on display for other weirdoes to look at. First of all, where are all the dildos? Second, USPS is incredibly unreliable. Sure enough, at least one loser has donated to this museum: Nick. After a rehearsed speech about himself and how Andi and Kaitlyn led him to be the Bachelor, the women are given the task of preparing breakup monologues for Nick. Everything is funny and light-hearted, especially when loose cannon Josephine smacks Nick across the face. Until, that is, it's Liz's turn. Upset and insecure, she pulls out a NOTEPAD to start her breakup. Immediately, Nick diverts his eyes like the pussy that he is.

But he knows what's coming. And it's AWFUL. More cringe worthy than Corinne's nipples, Liz goes on and on--in detail--about meeting him in a hallway, at a wedding, and essentially blames him for not chasing after her, even though she wasn't ready to let him in. Or at least, in farther than just the tip. The audience is silent and all of the girls but Gretchen Wieners look confused. Gretchen tries to play it cool and pretend that she has no idea what's going on,

but it's not very convincing. Liz's breakup is followed by more awkward silence and her finally saying "okay we can be done." Thank fucking god. For some reason, after this, NOT A SINGLE GIRL asks what the fuck that was all about. They mention it was detailed and weird and awkward, but don't say anything to Liz or Nick. Literally no girl, after hearing the hallway comment, and the wedding comment, was like -- umm, I have a few follow up questions? Nick spends the rest of the date stressing out about Liz, but it's pretty easy to see through his feigned concern for the other women. In a voiceover he tries to sell that he's concerned because he doesn't want the girls to think he's been lying to them (which he has), but in reality, he's concerned about what she actually said and how much of "her side" has been leaked. So while Jaimi reveals she's dated girls, and Kristina talks about growing up in a country that may or may not be controlling the United States, all Nick can think about is who knows what. It's smarmy and pathetic and incredible on brand. Finally, Gretchen Wieners spills the beans to him and he's able to tell his side of the story. At this point, he knows he has to get rid of Liz before she tells more people about how terrible he is in bed, so pulls her away for 1-on-1 time. They're gone for a long time which eventually leads the girls to wonder what's going on between them after her awkward-ass breakup speech. Gretchen Wieners refuses to rat Liz out,

but making it pretty clear there's something going on. And sure enough, it is. Nick confronts Liz with the whole "right reasons" question, and Liz's answer is just awful. She didn't ask for his number because she didn't know him. But then didn't want to ask for it and give him the wrong impression because she knew he was in Paradise. And even though he was only in Paradise for a month, she knew he had "other things" going on and just wasn't the type of person who liked to talk on the phone. We don't need Nick to point out to us that the more she talks, the less sense she makes, but it's the nail in her coffin. Finally Nick tells Liz that, while he admires her lack of shame courage for coming on this show and putting herself and her sexual history out there, she's milked this situation for all it's worth and it's time to go.

Now that he's gotten rid of Liz, he has to do the hardest thing of all: tell the women. Come clean. Be honest. Of course this is going to be difficult, because being a decent person isn't easy. Especially for a selfish little bitch like Nick. Before dropping the bomb he expresses concern that it's not the right time. But when is it ever a good time to tell your 26 girlfriends that you slept with one of them already? That you've been lying to them since Day 1? That you actually have no dick? I guess we'll find out next week. You know you love me.

XOXO,

Gossip Girl.

Corinne's Corner

There were too many good quotes to incorporate or ignore coming from this girl's articitially plumped up mouth, so here are my favorites:

I just want to be with him. Be with him. And hopefully, I will."

"I was daring enough to have clothes, and take them off."

"Brittany is half naked, and that should be me."

"Like he held my boobs, okay. No one has ever held my boobs like that. Or ever will."

"I really like Nick. When I was talking to him, he was listening."

"Today was just a dream come true. I stepped out of my comfort zone in many different times and angles. Dad would be so proud. Even though I was naked. HE would be proud."

"As long as there's no situation about the situation, we're okay."

"I just put myself out there and I just was myself. That's it. That's all I did, guys. Literally. I was just Corinne."  Yeah, we saw...

Did you notice ...

"I'm ready for the women to see me as me, instead of the guy they've seen on TV."  - Nick....but wait...

Alexis looks like Jade. But she's much cooler. From dolphin/shark to pregnant wife. She's definitely my favorite. Especially when she was resting her drink on her fake pregnant belly.

The girls on the first group date want to give Brittany the benefit of the doubt. They’re jealous of her, but they don’t mind because she didn’t choose to be topless. She was born that way.

The girls complained about being a bridesmaids, but Liz could have told them that's not a bad thing when it comes to Nick.

Did you notice that Liz's big reveal to Gretchen Wieners actually happened over three different scenes? I'm guessing this is because Liz wasn't giving enough detail the first two times and the producers really wanted to get the whole sex thing out there.

On the boat during their 1-on-1 date, Nick makes Danielle M. face the sun after snagging some cheese and then the better spot. SMH.

After hearing they were going to act out breakup scenes, Nick turns to Josephine and says "I'm most worried about you" as she says "violence."

Minority Report: No rose ceremony this week so nothing to report. But noticeably we didn't really see any of our chocolate ladies this week. That's probably a good thing since we were so focused on crazy white girls, but still, can we get more camera time for the lesbian with the nose ring? 

[bobbystompy]

My Top 132 Songs Of 2016

Previously: 2015, 2014, 2013, 2012, 2011

Haven’t started writing this yet, but after peaking at 73 songs in 2013, then dipping to 67 and 71 the last two years, it is unbelievable we hit 132 (blame Spotify’s easy ability to save music and create playlists).

I debated skipping around, but nahhh, let’s get it.

As always, the criteria/info:

This is a list of songs I personally like, not ones I’m saying are the “best” from the year; more subjective than objective

No artist is featured more than once

If it comes down to choosing between two songs for an artist, I try to give more weight to a single or featured track; it’s not the ultimate factor, but it typically makes sharing the music easier

Speaking of... each song on the list is linked in the title if you wanna check out some for yourself

BOBBY VS. THE SONGS, FID

132) Kendrick Lamar - “untitled 07 | levitate”

Yeah, not gonna do the thing everyone else is doing where we pretend Kendrick is making amazing music with 2016′s throwaway release. I had to trudge through so much weird-and-not-fun stuff on “Butterfly” last year; it’s time to be done with it. Kendrick is obviously a top flight MC and could end up as an all-time great, but, like, come on -- this is from an EP of b-sides, it’s (probably) the best song... and it’s still not that memorable. How this record is ended up on so many year end best of lists mystified me.

131) Young Thug - “Drippin'”

Thugger spazzin’ around.

130) 2 Chainz f/ Lil Wayne - “Gotta Lotta”

Eh, this song’s aight; beat good, kinda sticks with you sometimes. Funny it should be listed as “2 Chainz & Lil Wayne” -- peep the very creative album art -- yet ended up as a 2 Chainz solo feature (on technicality alone) due to Weezy’s ongoing label issues. These two play off each other well.

129) Real Friends - “Mokena”

This song is good, but it’s... a little too angst-y at points.

128) Iggy Pop - “American Valhalla”

The best compliment I can give this song is it sounds unlike anything I’ve ever heard. Not a fun listen every time, but if you consciously immerse, it can definitely work.

127) The Avett Brothers - “Ain't No Man”

Good mom song; feels like fun. passed the torch with this one.

126) Paul Simon - “Horace And Pete”

Louis C.K. got Simon to write a theme song for his dramedy “Horace and Pete”, and the diminutive one came through in spades. I sometimes like to shoehorn in the f-word when singing along to help break up some of the seriousness. But yeah, this feels like a ‘60s classic even though it’s essentially brand new.

125) Frank Ocean - “Nikes”

The A.V. Club summed up my opinion of the Frank Ocean record with one swift line: “On first listen, Blonde feels like a Cracker Jack box with no toy in it.”

Amen.

Don’t get it twisted: I love Frank, still believe in Frank, and of course consider “channel ORANGE” to (objectively) be one of the greatest albums of this generation, but “Blonde”? It didn’t connect. Somewhat reluctantly, I picked this song for the list because it was the first one I heard, and it stands as a symbol of the initial hope which faded over a few listens. But when Ocean breaks in after all the high pitched singing, it does feel like a moment.

Also, this line will always stick: “RIP Pimp C / RIP Trayvon, that n**** look just like me”.

124) DJ Khaled f/ Jay-Z & Future - “I Got The Keys”

DJ Khaled is a talentless jackass, annoyingly ad libbing his way into our brains. Unfortunately, my personal favorite artist chooses to make listenable songs with him. Alas, No. 124. Jay slaying with “My wife Beyoncé, I brag different”. Future... being Future.

123) Slim Thug - “King”

The always underrated Slim Thug, hangin’ out and tellin’ you about his life. Also lifting weights. Minus points for using the Pimp C sample Jigga used in “FuckWithMeYouKnowIGotIt” only three years ago.

122) American Football - “Give Me The Gun”

This band will never hit for me as much as it does with cool/laid back guitar people, but I enjoyed this tune. And I wish my friend Luke were here to listen with me.

121) Craig Finn - “Screenwriters School”

Craig Finn, as slow and chill as you’ll ever hear him.

120) Mikey Erg - “1001 Smashed Motel Rooms”

Solid verses, big chorus, and you can almost, like, tell he’s bald by the voice (not an insult).

119) Cassadee Pope - “Summer”

The former Hey Monday singer goes in on the strongest season.

118) The Cool Kids - “Connect 4″

It’s very difficult to write about The Cool Kids without using the word “cool”, but man, these guys have such a great interplay. It’s not two separate dudes taking turns; it’s a glorious intertwine with true chemistry.

117) Third Eye Blind - “Cop vs. Phone Girl"

This is our first song I’d call an imperative listen. I say this because you need you to hear Stephan Jenkins sing “Why's it so hard to say ‘Black Lives Matter’? / Doesn't mean that you're anti-white / Take it from me, I'm super fucking white”.

He remains bulletproof.

116) Wakrat - “Sober Addiction”

I was positive this song was a jam after one listen, but I’ve listened 3-4 times since, and it’s gotten progressively worse each time. If that’s not enough of a hook, the singer is the Rage Against The Machine bassist.

115) Owl Meet Rabbit - “This Side Of The Nut House”

A Christmas song with a “National Lampoon” reference.

114) YG f/ Drake & Kamaiyah - “Why You Always Hatin?”

Still a little unclear why Drake keeps agreeing to be in YG songs. His verse references sliding into DMs.

113) Yo Gotti f/ Nicki Minaj - “Down In The DM (Remix)”

...and we also have a track titled after it. My biggest memory with this song will be feeling sick in an Uber from Chicago to Forest Park on, like, a weekday morning but still mustering the nerve to laugh at the chorus, which is egregious enough before the “bridge” of “Snapchat me that pussy, if it’s cool”. Seriously. RIP, music.

112) The Dirty Nil - “Zombie Eyed”

This rips.

111) Microwave - “Homebody”

A good song that pulls you in further when the distortion gets bigger in the chorus.

110) AJJ - “Terrifyer”

Some days, you're a member of Queen Other days, you're a Kottonmouth King Some days, you're Emilio Estevez Other days, you're Charlie Sheen

109) Band of Horses - “Casual Party”

These guys are all smooth harmonies.

108) Fitz and the Tantrums - “HandClap”

This song is pretty unoffensive, but it’s catchy enough to work.

107) Nothing - “The Dead Are Dumb”

“The Dead Are Dumb” -or- if the “Twin Peaks” theme actually went somewhere.

106) Car Seat Headrest - “Unforgiving Girl (She's Not An)”

This band kinda reminds me of The Strokes; just a liiiiiitle less New York street and a tad more indie.

105) Vince Staples f/ Kilo Kish - “Loco”

Vince got into the news this year after defending the mom who had an extreme distaste for his lyrics in 2015′s “Norf Norf”. Let’s just say she also would not enjoy this one. His interplay with Kilo is on point.

104) GTA f/ Vince Staples - “Little Bit of This”

‘ey, it’s Vince again, and this one is stronger; somehow topping the high energy of “Loco” with another level of fire-spitting.

103) The Living End - “Monkey”

The Aussies broke a 13 year album hiatus with 2016′s “Shift”, and “Monkey”, one of the lead singles, did not disappoint. There will always be a place for songwriting like this.

102) Vic Mensa - “16 Shots”

This song is so raw and street and real. Sometimes you hear something, and it just cuts like a knife. I’m talking a “Straight Outta Compton” level here. Mensa has thoughts on police brutality in Chicago, and he ain’t holding back. He played this live on Kimmel, and his solemn-yet-wired energy could not be ignored.

101) Boyd & The Stahfools - “Summerly”

Some might say BATS sold out with this very commercial ode to Pollyanna’s raspberry wheat ale, but when you consume as much of it as those boys do, I say it’s legit art.

100) Macklemore & RL f/ J. Woods - “White Privelege II”

This is kinda like the Third Eye Blind message on Black Lives Matter, only the exact opposite. It’s... quite heavy handed, and while I like that from Macklemore, I realize a lot do not. All I can say in his defense is, like, man, it really seems like this dude is trying, and he certainly attempted to involve the right people. If that’s not good enough for you, I get it.

(Plus, he kinda digs on Iggy; throwing y’all a bone, just take it.)

99) Conor Oberst - “A Little Uncanny”

Oberst sounds a ton like Bob Dylan in this one, but he also sounds a ton like Oberst. It’s kinda like two massive folk tidal waves crashing into each other.

98) Cymbals Eat Guitars - “Have A Heart”

CEG -- despite a terrific name -- have always made music that felt obtuse, but this is the first song that felt ready-made to, like, give normal people a window to check out the band.

97) Green Day- “Bang Bang”

Everyone wants to over-analyze Green Day. But if you don’t do that, you’ll enjoy this as a fast and easy pop-punk song. It plays at my gym sometimes, and I always kinda assume people are annoyed by it. To quote Josh from “Heavyweights”, this pleases me.

96) James Vincent McMorrow - “Get Low”

Chill/cool.

95) The Flatliners - “Hang My Head”

This won’t end up in their all-time Top 5, but it’s a good song, and it was nice to hear from this band in 2016.

94) AFI - “Snow Cats”

This would sound right at home as a mid-tempo number on “Sing The Sorrow”.

93) Jay Electronica - “#TBE The Curse Of Mayweather”

Oof, what a shitty title. So, this is Jay Elect’s “blast back” at Kendrick Lamar after K-Dot slaughtered the rap game (and shit, maybe rap itself) in 2013′s “Control”. But here’s the thing... “Control” was “Control”. No one is topping “Control”. No one is successfully going at “Control”. That’s in its own stratosphere. Was it fun to see the enigmatic MC try? Sure. Did it make any type of impact? Eh, no. But I did enjoy the fake Kendrick voice.

92) The Dyes - “Loudmouth”

Out of every song so far, I’ve found this the toughest to write about. My favorite part is probably the way the guitar and bass play off each other, but my second favorite part has to be how sinister and swaggery it sounds.

91) Big Sean - “Get My Shit Together”

Maaaan, I missed Big Sean in 2016 after an extremely fruitful 2015. The few times he did surface -- on other people’s songs -- he stayed in form, so you’ll see more of him as this goes.

It feel like young Ray Allen with the white twins

90) Emeli Sandé f/ Jay Electronica & Áine Zion - “Garden”

Serene, with a fitting Jay Elect verse.

89) Yumi Zouma - “Haji Awali”

Chiller than a Coleman.

88) Jimmy Eat World - “Get Right”

We’ve talked about this before, but JEW typically have sunny day feel good songs, or nighttime darkness-type songs; this one’s the latter.

87) Into It. Over It. - “No EQ”

Sooooo good; melodic and percussive and soulful. It tugs at your heart just the right amount.

86) The Front Bottoms - “Joanie”

This really, really sounds like a Front Bottoms song, which I mostly mean as a compliment but also... am slightly worried about as it pertains to future material.

85) The Lumineers - “Ophelia”

Would I like to steal this song and give it to a girl and say I wrote it to mega impress her? Uh, duh. Piano for dayz.

84) Viola Beach - “Swings & Waterslides”

Kinda a lighter version of the Arctic Monkeys; mostly the singing... but in a big way.

83) The Game - “92 Bars”

It’s sposta be a Meek Mill diss, but it’s basically Game freestyling about a buncha stuff over a workable beat. Some real solid lines, too. My favorites:

- “I can kill you in four bars, that's a Kit Kat”

- “Let me tell you who suck, like banana Now and Laters” (haha)

- “Give me Left Eye back, take Fetty Wap and the Raiders”

- “Gum by them Yeezys, I'm the 6'5" Eazy” (MVP bar?)

- “This the Golden State and my shooters ain't on no hoop shit” (coooold)

82) OMI - “Hula Hoop”

I’mma give the write up here to my girl Alyssa Pawola, via her husband, Jeff Pawola (who watched the video after she was told the song reminded me of him):

She agreed with you!

She says it's because the singer dances similar to me and is a little goofy (compliment?), whereas all the girls around him are really good dancers (thus, her).

81) Joey Purp f/ Chance The Rapper - “Girls @”

If you’re not all-in on this song by the seven or eight second mark, then you can probably pass. HOWEVA, Chance and his 3 hat appear later on, so we call that incentive, young Bucky.

80) Vinnie Caruana - “I Don’t Believe You”

The feels like a last-song-on-the-record kinda track.

/looks up if it was the last song on the record

...8 of 10!

(Close enough.)

79) No Lenox - “Leave”

This song is heart and blood, with a rare use of “fucking” from Chris Trott.

78) JANK - “Versace Summer”

JANK is interesting. All of their artwork and motif make them seem like stoners (and maybe they are), but the music itself is so technical and synced. Like, you know they’re trying and very capable. So as weird as seeing “Versace” next to “JANK” might look, maybe it’s this high end brand that truly does fit their sound over, say, Faygo. But yeah, by the time this song is done, even though they’ve played the chorus a handful of times, you probably wouldn’t mind a handful more.

77) White Lung - “Dead Weight”

This band is just the coolest shit. They always go so, so hard, but this time, there’s a guitar playing mega bad ass leads to help even things out. I would believe you if you told me the guitar was also shooting lasers.

76) Descendents - “Without Love”

Like The Living End, the Descendents have also been out of the ‘releasing new records’ game for over a decade. And as jokey of a band as they’ve been in the past, this song has some of the same earnestness and vulnerability we heard on 2004′s “Cool To Be You”.

75) Andrew Bird - “Roma Fade”

For sure a candidate for coolest song title of 2016.

74) LVL UP - “Hidden Driver”

This is too indie for its own good.

73) A$AP Ferg f/ Big Sean - “World Is Mine”

Mostly included for Sean. Sorry, Ferg -- but you did give him the hook and a verse.

72) AM Taxi - “Enough To Feel Like Enough”

Like The Front Bottoms song from earlier, this AM Taxi song is very AM Taxi. But I ain’t ever worried about AM Taxi.

71) Rozwell Kid - “Baby’s First Sideburns”

Not sure I’ve ever heard a weak song by this band.

70) PARTYNEXTDOOR f/ Drake - “Come And See Me”

If you wanted to upset your love interest in 2016, hitting him or her with the “I hear you talkin' 'bout ‘we’ a lot, oh, you speak French now?” line was probably a good place to start.

69) Tancred - “Bed Case”

Kinda ‘90s, right? Nice.

68) Thrice - “Blood On The Sand”

Moderate take alert: I purport the Thrice singer sounds like Dave Grohl in this song, particularly during the chorus. Come at me with your agrees or disagrees.

67) MakeWar - “Ode”

The dude on this band’s album cover always reminds me of Rafa Nadal, which is weird, as I’d argue he looks -20% like Rafa Nadal. This song has a downcast energy. I think I wanna see these dudes live.

66) PKEW PKEW PKEW - “Asshole Pandemic”

Party punk, wooooo. You will not find a more circular 2016 lyric than “Why’s this fuckin’ dick gotta be such a cock?”

65) Adam Friedman f/ Mike Posner - “Lemonade”

blue eyes >>> brown eyes, Adam.

64) Matt and Kim - “Let’s Run Away”

As always-always-always, Matt and Kim are having more fun than we are.

63) Ariana Grande f/ Nicki Minaj - “Side To Side”

As recently as 40 days ago, I was emaling my friends about this track with the very loaded “I’m not sure this song is good at all”.

My buddy Brian’s response will probably jar you like it jarred me:

Gotta say, I have a soft spot for this song. I think the beat is pretty banging and the subject matter is a plus. Like, we do have to acknowledge that she's walking side to side because she's been having sex with dude all night and day and now her vagina is too sore to walk like a regular person. I can dig that.

Well then.

62) With You. f/ Vince Staples - “Ghost”

Weird music video, but definitely my favorite version of Vince that we got in 2016.

61) Fifth Harmony f/ Ty Dolla $ign - “Work From Home”

I was listening to this song with my girlfriend the other day, and I said something like “This song could really use a rap cameo”. Enter: the very forgettable Ty Dolla $ign. Still, a fun, sexty song. Also, I believe this is our first -- and only? -- song to have over one billion YouTube views (!!!).

60) Masked Intruder - “If Only”

This made it over other MI candidates due to the Winnie Cooper reference.

59) Fat Joe, Remy Ma, Jay-Z f/ French Montana & Infared - “All The Way Up (Remix)”

An easy chorus for sports teams to co-opt, as well as a “fuck off me” Jay verse. He bucks “Lemonade”, ups his products for the infinite time, and drops the mic after:

The OG's say, "Hov, how high is high enough?" I said "'till we eye and eye with the higher ups" Until we let 'em know, we ain't those n****s Until our baby's showered in gold, n**** Blue looking like Pac in the tub David LaChapelle levels of not giving a fuck Prince left his masters where they safe and sound We never gonna let the elevator take him down

Man.

Worry not, cockroach French is around to muck things up. It’s salvaged by a real dope Remy Ma verse, though.

58) Al Scorch - “Everybody Out”

The perfect soundtrack for escaping a busted speakeasy.

57) Tegan and Sara - “Dying To Know”

This song makes the list because the “Boyfriend” chorus was lazy as hell; it was like the “Closer” chorus, version 2.0. Conversely, “Dying To Know” has real emotion and a big, legit chorus.

56) Bloc Party - “The Good News”

A song I fear no one will like but me... but hey, my list.

55) New Lenox - “It’s Its Own Thing”

This is a song I wrote (and drummed on) about how winter sucks. It’s also about Chicago, being alone, finding someone, and using Banner Pilot to get through tough, frozen times. Shout out to Dave Rokos for singing the majority of the leads and Chris Trott for producing.

54) Julien Baker - “Photobooth”

I became enamored with the voice and talent of 21-year-old phenom Julien Baker throughout 2016, and though she released her debut album in 2015 (ALL TRACKS DISQUALIFIED, CHICA), she did drop this Death Cab cover for The A.V. Club this year, so I found a way to get her in the door. Now that we’re all here, I’ll give the floor to Deadspin’s Tom Ley:

What I did not expect was to like this version of the song so much that I now become visibly disgusted when I try to go back and listen to the original. Like all the good, thoughtful teens of my era, I spent a lot of time listening to Death Cab in my car, and I used to nod along pleasantly when “Photobooth” came on. But now I’m just angry I ever wasted any time listening to a lesser version of the song. In my opinion, Death Cab should just turn their entire catalog over to Julien Baker and be done with it.

Ironically, I will be seeing Baker open up for Death Cab singer Ben Gibbard later this January.

53) Desiigner - “Panda”

This is a bad song... but it’s incredibly listenable (for about 30 seconds, only it keeps going for a normal amount of time). It got upped on Kanye’s album, which likely sparked public interest in this mumble rap disaster. Literally the best thing you can say is it’s a Future rip off -- and he’s not all that great to begin with.

/sadly looks up YouTube view total

190 million; Fifth Harmony is like “pshhhh”.

Yet, “Panda” somehow endures. It feels fresh, saying “panda” repatedly never seems to tire, and it burned down the dance floor at Brian Pawola’s wedding this summer; old and young alike wanted to be pandas.

Now is also probably a good time to disclose my Halloween costume...

52) Cloud Nothings - “Modern Act”

Me, blogging about my excitement for the new Cloud Nothings album that drops in three weeks.

51) A Tribe Called Quest f/ André 3000 - “Kids” (no link)

Welcome back.

50) Run The Jewels - “Talk To Me”

Haven’t listened to RTJ3, but it’s only been out for, like, 10 days. Still, this song is as reliably dope as they’ve always been. I also felt compelled to include ATCQ and RTJ in these spots to ensure they were not above “Panda”.

Brave men didn't die face down in the Vietnam muck so I could not style on you

49) Kevin Devine - “No History”

My aforementioned buddy Dave Rokos likes this song because of its big chorus, and I’d also like to use it as a selling point.

48) Kings Of Leon - “Reverend”

For as big as Kings Of Leon are, I haven’t really heard this song anywhere.

47) Rae Sremmurd f/ Gucci Mane - “Black Beatles”

I always thought Rae Sremmurd were kinda meh (at best) and Gucci Mane was an idiot’s idiot (at absolute best), but this song’s a banger -- and this conclusion was reached prior to it going viral with the Mannequin Challenges. Speaking of... my 2016 Black Wednesday:

A video posted by Bobby L (@bobbystompy) on Nov 23, 2016 at 7:15pm PST

46) Grimes - “Kill V. Maim”

This song is straight out of a video game or action movie. Like, get ready to fight a boss or something.

45) Dave Hause - “With You”

Heartfelt ballad that feels sprawled out across a few genres.

44) Robin Thicke f/ Nas - “Deep”

What do we get when we combine a dude with no credibility and feature a dude with tons of credibility? A sneaky sizzling collab. And if you still got beef, remember: it ain’t that deep.

43) Against Me! - “Rebecca”

A lot of people have had this AM! song on their year end lists, and I wasn’t seeing it, but after a few extra spins, it became pretty clear this was thee highlight from the album. It’s got this kinetic energy, spinning out of control while somehow maintaining perfect balance.

42) Restorations - “See”

Restorations make spectrum songs; ones you listen to while the world moves in slow motion at an airport reunion, while time stops after a death, or stretches out on an overly contemplative Sunday evening. What I’m saying is, these dudes control the clocks.

41) Aaron West and the Roaring Twenties - “Green Like The G Train, Green Like Sea Foam”

Soupy from The Wonder Years’ solo project keeps -- PUN INTENDED -- chuggin’ along with this one. He’s singing in the same gear he always sings in, but the chorus and always trusty synced rhythms that break it in two definitely get me goin’. 

40) Titus Andronicus - “No Future”

Titus Andronicus covering Craig Finn, and they add just the right amount of anguish to the proceedings. There’s such an obvious-yet-still-clever element to the “February’s about as long as it is wide” line.

39) Rihanna - “Needed Me” (NSFW-ish video)

This song is good -- Mustard on the beat, natch -- but RiRi murdering a dude in the back of a strip club in the video might be better.

38) Jeff Rosenstock - “Festival Song”

The former Bomb the Music Industry! singer dipped his toe in a few genres throughout his 2016 album “Worry”, though I’m not sure how to describe this one; it’s kind of spastic punk with some synthy keyboards and a catchy outro, strong enough to throw two capable haymakers as the song enters its final minute. 

37) The Steve Adamyk Band f/ Colleen Green - “Carry On”

I hadn’t even heard of this band a month ago, but “Carry On” has quickly become a favorite; toe-tappin' rock.

36) The Naked And Famous - “Higher”

This band seems like they’d have -- there is no better word I’m so sorry -- epic concerts. Also, don’t miss out on the “In The Air Tonight”-sounding fills.

35) Phantogram - “You Don’t Get Me High Anymore”

Brilliant drum samples, drug stuff, and a pop sensibility; you seriously could not ask for more.

34) Child Bite - “Vermin Mentality”

This song is quite harsh, and I imagine if you had individual approval ratings for all 132 of these songs, it would very easily finish in the bottom five. That said, I think it rocks, and it reminds me of the Dead Kennedys’ best scenario.

33) Joyce Manor - “Last You’ve Heard Of Me”

Sure, I reacted like a mom when I saw Barry’s new neck tattoo in the video, but the song was the redeemer. Recommended if you like the Everclear “Santa Monica” intro, marijuana makes you tired, or you’ve found love in the parking lot outside a karaoke bar.

32) Cassino - “Alabama Song”

If you did happen to listen to “Vermin Mentality”, this’ll probably be the song to get that taste out of your mouth. I love its overall laid back vibe, even if what it’s about remains unclear after a good chunk of listens.

31) Direct Hit! - “Was It The Acid?”

This one lost several punk points after the singer revealed he did not use hard drugs. But still.

30) Bayside - “Pretty Vacant”

My buddy Brian Pawola doesn’t like this song because of the teenage-y “I can’t believe this is my life, I’m pretty vacant all the time” chorus, but that’s precisely why I do. Also, apparently the album it’s off of is called “Vacancy”, haha.

29) PUP - “Familiar Patterns”

Feels weird not picking a single, but this one was always my favorite; the same percussive power, shreddy singing, and unrelenting noise we got in their debut a few years ago. Also funny: they named their 2016 album “The Dream Is Over”, which is what the PUP singer’s doctor told him after diagnosing his vocal chord ailment.

28) Tokyo Police Club - “Not My Girl”

Sometimes, I wanna tell non-punk fans TPC is what all punk rock sounds like, because even though the band has more of a pop-indie element, they do seem like the genre’s best case scenario more often than not.

27) The Falcon - “If Dave Did It”

Feels like sacrilege picking a Dave Hause fronted track for my Falcon choice. After all, this is Brendan Kelly’s group, and after an EP and two full lengths, it’s Dave’s first ever time fronting a song in the band. But this song kept standing out. It also has a small drum solo, and even though basically all drum solos are bad, Neil Hennessy’s on the kit -- so you know you’re in good hands.

26) Chance The Rapper f/ 2 Chainz & Lil Wayne - “No Problem”

Chance’s “Coloring Book” was so positive and creative and multi-faceted that it feels a little wrong to pick a song that’s more traditional rap with typical guests, but it really is the best song, you know? For whatever reason, Lil Wayne’s nonchalant verse was my favorite, with his initial bars being the highlight:

I got problems bigger than these boys My deposits, they be on steroids Lord, free the Carter, n****s need the Carter Sacrificin' everything, I feel like Jesus Carter

But sure, we can also highlight funny 2 Chainz things:

- “Inside of the Maybach look like it came out of Ikea / Run shit like diarrhea” (oh my god)

- “Aye, aye, captain / I'm high, captain / I'm so high / Me and God dappin'” (haha)

Also, if you don’t raise-and-drop your arms for the “huh! huh!” part before the beat kicks in at the beginning after “lobby”, you’re a monster.

25) David Rokos - “Pacific Time”

Falling in lust with a California girl who has the keys to bomb ass hotel room overlooking the ocean? What self-deprecating heterosexual dude isn’t signing up for this?

24) NOFX - “Six Years On Dope”

Thrash punk, with Fat Mike and Eric Melvin divvying up the vocals after arguing to start the song. Here’s the July 2016 description I emailed to the gf:

So, the lead singer has kind of a flat, annoying voice, but then there's this guitarist who mostly does yell parts and not a lot of leads, but in this song, they both basically trade off yelling, and the guitar is blaring, and it just does not relent. They've released a million records at this point, but something about it feels so fresh. Like new blood has been infused into all of them.

You will like... 0% of this.

Her response: “Hahaha. I wouldn't say that I hate this...but it's pretty close.”

23) Beach Slang - “Future Mixtape For The Art Kids”

Of all the artists on this way-too-long list, I had the hardest time picking a Beach Slang song. This is probably because all of their songs sound the same. But as a writer earlier this year said, it’s still a good song. So true. I went with Track 1 from their album “A Loud Bash of Teenage Feelings” (this is the actual title) because it has the biggest chorus:

We're not lost, we are dying in style We're not fucked, we are fucking alive I hope I never die

Every Beach Slang song also has to include “die” or “alive” in the lyrics; this one gets both. Minor gripe: that vocal distortion you hear is an effect used on every other song on the 29 minute record.

22) Kid Cudi f/ André 3000 - “By Design” (no link)

When you think too much, you’re removing what’s moving

This song could literally be in a made up language, but the diction, beat, and Caribbean stylings from Cudi and 3 Stacks would still make you wile out. The full version appears to be nowhere on the free Internet, but I highly recommend finding it.

If you’re too lazy, peep Cudi’s “Goodbye” instead. It’s a pump up track that samples 2Pac and Pink Floyd -- what could go wrong?!

21) Anderson .Paak - “Come Down”

My buddy Ceebs used this as the entrance song at his wedding; he and his wife looked so cool.

20) The Weeknd - “False Alarm”

Listen, I wanted to include “Starboy”. But after shunning “The Hills” for “Can’t Feel My Face” in 2015, I wanted to pick the weird song over the poppier one this time, OK? This music video is so violent. I also really do wonder if this song has borderline punk elements.

19) Carly Rae Jepsen - “Higher”

Just a Carly Rae “Emotion” b-side cracking the Top 20, no big deal. Seeing CRJ in Milwaukee in March was my favorite concert of 2016; so much so that I saw her in Chicago the next day and even exchanged a shirt (...cutoffs) with the merch guy I’d met already.

18) Brian Fallon - “Red Lights”

We have The Gaslight Anthem singer’s solo project here. This could definitely be a TGA song. “I only stop to tell her that I love her at the red lights” = unstoppable swoon.

17) Jay-Z - “Spiritual”

I need a drink, shrink or something I need an angelic voice to sing something

A song that should’ve had a much bigger spotlight in an incredibly tumultuous year. I remember listening to this during the Dallas shootings, my heart absolutely breaking for the country. Here is the statement Hov released with the track:

16) Justin Timberlake - “CAN’T STOP THE FEELING!”

Our Song of the Summer, 2K16.

The one critique you could give is maybe it’s a little too easy, a little too low hanging fruit, but my counter would be: who said pop music has to be terribly difficult? And if you’re still folding arms during the “Can’t stop the fee-laaaaahn” falsetto part, having fun probably isn’t your bag.

15) Get Well Cards - “Is It Worth It?”

I think you’re trying to kill me, when you said you’d lick my wounds

I play drums on this jam, but it’s Dave Rokos’ songwriting that gives me all the feels. It always reminded me of a slightly more restrained “Good Things”. This song is about sleeplessness, deep contemplation, and a deteriorating relationship; you don’t know if you should do everything you can to hold on... or mercifully let it all go (”And they say time is all we have to give / And I think I’ve given you enough”... oof).

14) Resolutions - “Daily Train”

Blindly assumed this band was from Canada, but, upon further research, it looks like Germany. Hmm. The singer sounds like the Rise Against dude to me.

13) Mike Posner f/ Big Sean - “Buried In Detroit (Lucas Lowe Remix)”

Hunger > Strategy

The Mike Posner comeback was one of the more delightful storylines of 2016. Though I liked “Ibiza” quite a bit, I had a softer spot for the one with his fellow Michigander. This is my favorite Big Sean performance of the year, and Posner’s verses and choruses are straight anthemic.

12) blink-182 - “Rabbit Hole”

Though we can all agree “Built This Pool” is the best song of all-time (Travis’ “Is that really it?” = completely perfect), “Rabbit Hole” was a bit more well-rounded -- and it’s Matt Skiba getting in the mix in a blink-182 song (verse two); I can’t believe we’re here.

11) Kanye West f/ Kendrick Lamar - “No More Parties In L.A.”

In honor of its number on our dear list, my Top 11 favorite bars from this banging banger of a song...

11. Kanye: “And as far as ‘Real Friends’, tell all my cousins I love 'em / Even the one that stole the laptop, you dirty motherfucker” (he’s not over it)

10. Kanye: "My psychiatrist got kids that I inspired / First song they played for me was 'bout their friend that just died” (creepy, ominous)

9. Kanye: “Hey baby, you forgot your Ray Bans / And my sheets still orange from your spray tan” (very South Naperville)

8. Kendrick: “She said she came out here to find an A-list rapper / I said baby, spin that 'round and say the alphabet backwards” (the young MC will not be slighted)

7. Kanye: "Thinking back to how I got here in the first place / Second class bitches wouldn't let me on first base" (those days are probably over, Yeezy)

6. Kanye: “Got pussy from beats I did for n****s more famous / When did I become A list? I wasn't even on a list” (those days are also probably over, Yeezy)

5. Kendrick: “Well cutie, I like your bougie booty / Come Erykah Badu me" (that’s just good game)

4. Kanye: “Every agent I know, know I hate agents / I'm too black, I'm too vocal, I'm too flagrant” (empowering)

3. Kanye: “I was uninspired since Lauryn Hill retired / And 3 Stacks, man, you preach it to the choir” (golden)

2. Kanye: "Mulholland Drive, need to put up some god damn barricades / I be paranoid every time, the pressure / The problem ain't I be drivin' / The problem is I be textin'" (we’ve all been there)

1. Kanye: “I be worried 'bout my daughter, I be worried 'bout Kim / But Saint is baby 'Ye, I ain't worried 'bout him” (and we’ll end with my favorite rap lyric of 2016)

10) Daya - “Hide Away”

It took a few listens to realize how sublime this one is. The lyrics are solid, the beat is great, and they display some real patience with how the hi-hat notes are deployed, and it really helps control the flow of urgency (Posner uses this tactic in the “Buried In Detroit [Remix]” as well).

Also, don’t sleep on its grocery store banger potential with the happier sounding and cutesy “Tell me where the good boys go” bridge.

9) Beyoncé f/ Kendrick Lamar - “Freedom” (note: link is to the live performance)

This is big.

I remember when “Lemonade” dropped, I was txting with my friend Buffalo Grove Tina (she’d heard the album and I hadn’t yet), giving her selective feedback as I was progressing through the tracks. She then sent a message that stuck with me every listen since:

Hooooooly buckets, she nailed it. The Just Blaze beat should be sent to the CDC, Yoncé is breathing fire, and once you start to finally wrap your head around all of that, you get a K-Dot verse as icing on a cake that already had great cake and great icing. It’s run-through-walls time.

8) Drake - “One Dance” (note: link is to the live version)

Drake has been so consistent with his output this decade, turning every year into a "Should I pick the hip-hop song or the pop song?" debate when it comes to list-making. This time, the pop song wins (or dancehall, really).

"One Dance" is a good joint to drink, dance, or sway to. There's a reason it became his most streamed song of all-time.

7) The Hotelier - “Piano Player”

What a beautiful piece of music. The warmness I feel during the “I don’t know if I know love no more” is unmatched. Their album (”Goodness”) is one of the year’s best.

6) Culture Abuse - “Dream On”

This song is automatic pulverization. Like, about 80% of the way through, it tries to end but somehow can't. The chorus isn't ready to be done. Some have compared the singer's style to a robot, but I think it just sounds *cool*.

5) Japandroids - “Near To The Wild Heart Of Life”

She kissed me like a chorus

Skeptics might hate on this song for sounding like a retread of their sound from 2012's legendary album "Celebration Rock", and even non-skeptics may roll their eyes at the "I used to be good, but now I'm bad" line. But I shun these trigger happy notions. Enough time has passed since “CR”, and I was ready for this band to come back; beyond ready. This song gave me everything I was missing during the Japan-void.

/walks out of the room with an unflinchingly straight face

4) Pusha T f/ Jay-Z - “Drug Dealers Anonymous”

My pick for the best hip-hop track of the year. No choruses, no trade offs; it’s one long Pusha verse, then one long Jay verse -- the best rap verse of 2016, by my count. Pusha’s is galvanizing too, though. He paints pictures, conjures the Flint water crisis*, and sets up a bowling pin for the GOAT to roll one at...

/deep breath

Just, like, fuck, man.

JAY-Z IS SO GOOD AT RAPPING WORDS

Shawn Corey Carter doesn’t walk, he weaves. He doesn’t blast, he shoots silenced. I’d love to use the word “ether” to describe the verse but won’t out of respect. What doesn’t it have? I don’t know. Here’s what it does have: Tomi Lahren she gone, drug dealer stuff, rich guy stuff, historical and pop culture references (I’ll defend the “Damn, Daniel” line to the death), and this piece of divinity: “Y’all think Uber’s the future, our cars been autonomous”.

Sometimes all I can do is put my head down, bite my lip, and bob when this song comes on; lucky to be alive, like always.

(* - Pusha apparently donated water to the city but wanted it nameless, rationalizing it in the song with: “And I can’t even mention what I sent or what I spent / Cause my name in 18 wheelers is evidence”)

3) Modern Baseball - “Apple Cider, I Don’t Mind”

MoBo’s “Holy Ghost” was a little uneven as an album, but I’m just happy to have singer Brendan Lukens here with us after his bout with depression, substance abuse, and suicidal thoughts. By the time he got back to the studio after rehab, he was ready to give us at least a little insight into his psyche -- and it’s desperate, scary, and beautiful. My favorite overall musical moment of 2016 is the pleading “I can’t” he hits at the 1:15 mark of this one.

Clocking in at a tick under two minutes, this song almost feels incomplete in a way that 2014′s “Rock Bottom” (2:14 itself) didn’t. It’s like Lukens wants to sprint so hard he passes out, worrying not as much about finishing the race but instead focusing on giving the audience all of himself while in the booth.

2) Pinegrove - “New Friends”

Hit me, Spin:

Pinegrove are almost radically likable, soft-spoken in a year of grandiose statements, filling a void that only existed in retrospect.

Damn straight. I hadn’t even heard of these guys at the start of the year.

This goes from indie folk to a Weezer-y outro with only a short build up, but the songwriting and lyrics are in a style all their own, really. That’s it.

1) The Menzingers - “Lookers”

When this dropped, my buddy Chris Trott emailed me what he always emails me when a new song piques our interest: “Holy good god damn this is good. This is like 'I believe in music again' good.”

Shortly after, I remember leaving work for lunch and bumping the song for the first time in a parking lot. I wrote him back: “Was staring at this brick wall while listening and the first thought that popped into my head was something like 'It feels like they are taking my soul out of my body and splattering it on that wall' (in the best way, of course).”

Nostalgic verses, massive Jersey chorus, an “On The Road” reference, and the desire to want more of these songs even after you were just given everything in a single installment.

This god damn band.

[insession-io]

An only child can change the relationship between parents

My Marriage Has a Third Wheel: Our Child

Here’s a typical weeknight scenario in our household: My husband, Tom, our 9-year-old daughter, Sylvie, and I feel like ordering in, and after a lengthy debate, we decide on pizza. Later, while the three of us are eating pepperoni slices and playing Bananagrams, Sylvie reminds Tom that our wedding anniversary is coming up and offhandedly mentions that my favorite flowers are peonies. After a few rounds of the game, we consider a movie. Sylvie proposes “Escape From New York,” a film that has piqued her curiosity after hearing her father repeatedly imitate Kurt Russell as Snake Plissken.

“I’ll look it up on Common Sense Media to see if it’s appropriate,” she volunteers, opening my computer. Unfortunately, she reports gravely, it’s for ages 16 and up. “‘Except for a severed head,’” Sylvie reads aloud, “‘there’s little explicit gore. An atmosphere of cynicism and darkness pervades, including a negative depiction of a U.S. President.’”

Tom points out that this sounds like his Twitter feed. But I balk at the severed head, which is a pretty big except for.

I would never have predicted that the hardest part of parenting would be that our only child would come to fully believe she is the third person in our marriage. This arrangement began roughly as soon as she learned to talk.

As family psychologists such as Dr. Carl E. Pickhardt, Ph.D., point out, only children often feel like one of the adults. As with our tripartite system of government, they view the daily running of the household as a three-way power-sharing agreement. This is an issue more parents may have to deal with, now that one-child families are gaining ground. According to a Pew Research analysis of 2015 U.S. Census Bureau data, today 18 percent of mothers at the end of their childbearing years have an only child — up from 10 percent in 1976.

Tom and I have fully enabled Sylvie to feel like one of the gang, because we go almost everywhere as a trio. We’re usually too cheap to hire babysitters, and tend to travel with Sylvie, too, as she slots fairly easily into our itineraries. As a result, Sylvie has gotten used to being included, consulted, part of our in-jokes. This is not uncommon, says social psychologist Dr. Susan Newman, Ph.D., who has spent decades studying only children — a term I loathe, as it calls to mind a kid alone in a shadowy room, whispering quietly to his sock puppet “friends.” (I think we should revive the much more sprightly “oneling,” used by 19th century author John Cole in his book “Herveiana.”)

But our efforts to “empower” our oneling and make her voice heard have begun to backfire. To paraphrase Princess Diana when asked about Camilla Parker-Bowles: There are three of us in this marriage, so it’s a bit crowded.

One reason for our fluid boundaries is physical. It’s almost impossible to maintain them in a Brooklyn apartment a realtor would euphemistically call “charming and cozy,” one with bizarrely porous doors that actually seem to amplify sound. But it’s also emotional: Tom and I, like many parents of our generation, make an effort to be open and communicative with Sylvie. (“You can tell us anything, sweetheart!”)

When I was growing up, I would never have dreamed of sharing anything remotely personal with my parents. I had two siblings, and our family dynamic was solidly Us vs. Them — my sisters and I were one unit, my folks another. I wanted a different kind of relationship with our daughter.

But one consequence of all this closeness is that our child feels insulted if Tom and I go out to dinner alone. If we’re on vacation, she balks at being “dumped,” as she puts it, in the Kids’ Club. She would be happy to Photoshop her picture into our wedding photos. If Tom and I give each other a hug, she has gotten in the habit of jumping in between us.

At least she doesn’t referee when we fight, as she did when she was smaller. A couples’ counselor put a stop to that when he advised me to put a photo of Sylvie in a drawer by my bedside table. Whenever I was about to lose my temper with Tom, he told me, I was to run to the bedroom, pull out the photo, and say to it: I know that what I’m about to do is going to cause you harm, but right now, my anger is more important to me than you are. I only had to repeat that brutal phrase a couple of times.

But Tom and I still squabble about minor stuff, like whose turn it is to empty the dishwasher — and when we do, Sylvie jumps in and takes sides. (“Mom, you did it last time.”)

As a self-flagellating parent, I was recently drawn to a book with the dire title “The Seven Common Sins of Parenting an Only Child.” Ooh, sins — what am I doing wrong? Among other iniquities — overprotection, overcompensating — Sin No. 6 resonated with me: Treating Your Child Like an Adult.

“It can become so pleasurable for parents of an only child to have a miniature adult by their side that they may lose sight of the fact that their kid needs to be a kid,” writes author Carolyn White, former editor of Only Child magazine. I read this aloud to Tom as Sylvie, nearby, perused the latest issue of Consumer Reports, ready to counsel us on our next car purchase.

Sylvie may be comfortable around adults, but she is still a child, one who lacks the reasoning abilities and experience of a grown-up — so I must catch myself when I absently reply to her questions about money, or other parents, before realizing, whoops, shouldn’t have told her that.

As Newman advises, “Before you allow your child to weigh in, take a pause and ask yourself, ‘Is this really a topic or an issue that a 9-year-old should be involved in, or is this a decision for adults?’ ”

Sylvie needs time away from us to be a kid — time to act silly and make jokes about butts and drone on about the intricacies of Minecraft. She has a group of good friends, but I do see her picking up on her middle-aged parents’ habits, such as calculating how many hours of sleep she got every morning. Her posse at home is squarely in midlife, as evidenced by her choice of songs for her ninth birthday party — among them, Barbra Streisand’s LBJ-era “Don’t Rain on My Parade.” We are not the kind of posse a 9-year-old needs. Maybe she hasn’t yet subbed out her school backpack for a WNYC tote bag, but the danger is there.

And all of this coziness hurts our marriage, too. So I have to remind myself, sometimes daily, to cordon off our relationship. Our marriage has needs that deviate from my needs as an individual, as well as our needs as a family. I have to constantly ask, what would be good for the marriage? It’s important, as a couple, to have your own roster of in-jokes. It’s refreshing to drop F-bombs with impunity, and to gossip freely about other parents without having to hastily turn it into a teachable moment for your eavesdropping child about How Gossiping Is Really About Feeling Insecure About Your Own Life Choices. And it’s nice — no, essential — to go out to dinner, just the two of you, and speculate on which members of the waitstaff are sleeping with each other. You know, grown-up stuff.

Jancee Dunn is the author of “How Not To Hate Your Husband After Kids.”

Kathryn McNeer, LPC specializes in Couples Counseling Dallas with her sound, practical and sincere advice. Kathryn's areas of focus include individual counseling, relationship and couples counseling Dallas. Kathryn has helped countless individuals find their way through life's inevitable transitions; especially that tricky patch of life known as "the mid life crisis." Kathryn's solution-focused, no- nonsense counseling works wonders for men and women in the midst of feeling, "stuck," or "unhappy." Kathryn believes her fresh perspective allows her clients find the better days that are ahead. When working with couples, it is Kathryn's direct yet non-judgmental approach that helps determine which patterns are holding them back and then helps them establish new, more productive patterns. Kathryn draws from Gottman and Cognitive behavioral therapy- when appropriate Kathryn works with couples on trust, intimacy, forgiveness, and communication.