#but it boils my blood when i find a good song on Spotify and go into the artist's discography

[thelittlebeekeeper]

HATE when artists only release their songs in single form. girl WHERE is the thematic consistency?? the rise and fall of emotion?? the story of your life??? I KNOW you have more to say than tiktok hit no. 174895

[milliesfishes]

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡Star Girl⋆౨ৎ˚⟡

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖masterlist⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ [fem reader] contains: attempted kidnapping pairing: billy the kid x fem reader summary: billy meets a star girl author’s note: thank you my darling @phantomamor for talking ab this with me and helping me flesh out this world and the characters! MWAH I'm so excited for you all to read this <3 Pinterest Board Spotify Playlist

The city was buzzing, breathing life into what had formerly been a word on a map to Billy. Beings of every species imaginable were conversing, haggling over prices and gossiping amongst themselves. It was impossible to stand still without touching anyone.

Billy's pockets were newly lined with the reward of his latest bounty, not as much as he would have liked for his efforts, but something, nonetheless. When he was newer to this line of work, maybe it would have put a spring in his step. Maybe he'd have even whistled, allowing himself a look at the shiny blasters arranged at the nearby table, maybe even considering buying one.

But today his spirits were lowered, melancholy even. His boots trudged along the dusty footprints of those who'd walked before him, hands shoved in his pockets. He ignored the call of surrounding merchants, letting their voices blend into the hum.

It was the same thing over and over again. He'd find some treasure long prized by a pawn dealer, risk his neck to locate it, and accept a measly price in return. Later today he'd fork over a portion to Jesse, the price for using the gang's name to secure better offers. And then the cycle would repeat.

It was a baseless existence. Flying all over the galaxy, getting his hands on things others deemed precious. It was funny- it all looked so important on the pages of a book, but not once when he held it in person did it feel that way. As far as he was concerned, it was terribly unimportant, faint relics destined for a life on the shelf. He almost felt bad removing them from their natural states. Every gem, every weapon...it felt like robbing a grave.

Clumping down the road until he emerged from the mouth of the crowd, Billy stopped for a moment, leaning against the brick of a building close at hand. On a normal night he'd go to the bar, but right now it seemed unappealing. The last thing he needed was a drink. He supposed he could return to his ship and retire early for the night. Goodness knew he didn't get enough sleep as it was.

Standing up straight, Billy was about to make his way back in the direction of his ship when a peculiar sound caught his ear.

"Excuse me sir...I need to get past..."

"Pretty little thing. C'mon sweetheart..."

Immediately Billy turned sharply, searching for the source. He took a step forward, ducking his head around the corner into an alleyway. The sight before him nearly made his blood boil.

A man, clearly heavily intoxicated, grasping the arm of a young woman. Billy couldn't tell what species she was from first glace, but she looked remarkably human from here. In the soft glow of the sunset, he could see the shine of her hair. There was a glow that seemed to brighten her from the inside out, as if her heart was made of light. Her eyes were wide, fear pooling in the centers.

You stared up at your captor, struggling slightly. "Please. Just let me go."

"Ain't lettin' one of your kind slip past," the man spat. Billy winced- he could practically feel his hot, liquor tainted breath from here. "Damn star people."

It hit Billy like a shot to the stomach, his body stiffening as he realized it. Your glow. You weren't human at all.

Star people were rare to see, especially in a place as godless as this. Said to have been born from the heavens themselves, star people were a legend lilted from the lips of bounty hunters far and wide across the galaxy. The blood coursing through their veins wasn't crimson, but golden, and it ran for a price that was enough to set a man up for life. The species made themselves scarce due to this fact.

When Billy was learning the art of the hunt, he'd accompanied a man seasoned on the market, seeking a rare plant with silver berries going for a decent price. It had confused him when they hunted down a man with a golden luster and tied him down instead of scouring the nearby forest. He assumed they were going to question him about the location of the plant, let him go when he'd given up such trusted information.

But instead, his companion drew a knife, turning to Billy with a hungry look in his eyes. "Watch 'n learn Kid. Always seize the opportunity for a better bounty."

Much to Billy's horror, the knife came down on the golden man's skin, drawing forth a spurt of shining liquid. He was paralyzed watching him bleed out, his inside life force collected by someone so overtaken by greed that he failed to realize the awful thing he was doing.

The memory of the star person's face as he died had haunted Billy ever since he witnessed it. It was the reason he'd never collected a living bounty since. And it was the reason his feet were moving forward now, straight into the alleyway. His hands tore the man away from you, shoving him aside. His body hit the ground with a heavy thump, buying you some time. Billy extended a hand to you. "Come with me. Before he gets up."

You shrank back a bit, the sight of another man so close likely terrifying. Billy winced at the swiftness of his actions, but he emphasized his hand. "It's okay. I'm not gonna hurt you."

In the dim light, Billy could see the golden sheen filling your body with light, the freckles dotting your arms like a sun had kissed them. There were strands of gold woven into your hair, making you appear nearly unreal. And suddenly the notion of you being descended from the stars didn't seem so impossible.

Slowly, you set your fingers in the palm of his hand, your soft touch igniting something in him, a conflagration that reached from his toes to his hairline. When he looked into your eyes, he could have sworn they were glowing.

Carefully, he led you out of the alleyway, back into the streets, which were emptying with each strain of darkness that settled in. Your breathing was slowing down as you followed him, shoes barely making a sound on the cobblestone ground.

There was a loud clatter behind you that sounded suspiciously like a blaster falling from a holster, and Billy squeezed your hand without thinking. "Quick-run!"

Almost akin to a doe, you started sprinting with him, surroundings becoming a blur. Your skirt trailed behind you, the pale color of it making it look like you were being followed by mist. It and your top were of light iridescence, shimmering as you hurried along beside him. It was mesmerizing how gracefully you ran, and it made him feel a hundred pounds heavier as his boots clomped alongside your slippers.

There were string lights swooping over the gap in the streets, twinkling like your eyes. You both came to an abrupt stop once you turned a corner, panting for breath. Your hand was still engulfed in his, and he didn't complain when you kept hold.

Turning his face to you, Billy was expecting distress, tears even. But your expression was elated. Shoulders rising up and down, your eyes caught on his, the sight of your smile making him feel as though he was watching the sunrise. "Do you think he was even chasing us?" A breathy giggle trailed after your words like fairy dust.

Billy couldn't help his own chuckle bubbling from his lips. "Better safe than sorry."

Putting your free hand to your heart, you took in a deep breath, watching him warmly. "Thank you for rescuing me. He's been following me all night and I made a mistake in where I went to try and lose him."

"My pleasure." Billy tipped his hat. It was a product of his upbringing more than anything, but he imagined even the worst of scoundrels would find themselves gentlemen in your presence.

He was endeared when you lifted the sides of your skirt, sweeping a foot delicately behind your ankle and bowing your head. "Twas good of you anyways, sir."

"Billy." He was grinning.

"Billy." You said it so lightly, so curiously, and he wanted to exile his name from everyone else's mouth. In sweet tones, you told him your name too. Your identifying word could have been anything and he would have found it beautiful simply because it was attached to you.

Taking in a breath as fine as spun silk, you said, "I truly do appreciate what you did. Not everyone would have." The luscious curtain of your hair fell over your shoulder as you leaned in, and the ambrosial scent of you filled his nose. Every detail of you was coming to light, enhancing you when he thought he'd already viewed perfection. Billy was no purveyor of the arts, but you were a masterpiece.

You were close enough that he could see every freckle that dotted the smooth plane of your face, and their gold color. The beads of your top kissed your arms like droplets of water. Even as the night settled upon the world, your skin glimmered, every shining strand of hair winking at him like a call to reach out and touch. He was sure that you would melt under his roughened fingers if he did.

Remembering himself, he cleared his throat, nodding once. "Maybe not everyone knows what's right."

Something changed in your eyes, and he saw a flicker, a flame in your irises. Suddenly he couldn't seem to tear his eyes away, like both your hearts were magnets yearning to connect. Pushing your hair over a shoulder, your eyelashes fluttered as you peered up at him. He was unsure if it was your heavenly origins that were drawing him in, or if it was you. "Can I walk you back home?" The sentence slipped from his mouth before he could regulate it, his body's natural instinct to be near you for longer.

Even the littlest hint of your smile was dazzling. Your head bobbed up and down, and you squeezed his hand lightly. "I'd like that."

Oh how he would thank the heavens later.

The cosmos were brimming with eternal wonders that burned at their edges, gathering in the dark side of every moon and hiding in the shadow of the rings of silvery planets. Billy had been far and wide across the space of the galaxy, seen things man could never dream up. But never had he been so captivated by anything as you.

Your coppery aura enveloped him like an aphrodisiac, crashing over him and rebounding like the waters of some lost ocean. He was tethered to even the mere idea of you.

You chattered as he walked with you to your residence, and he felt like he was listening to a song. Your being seemed to not only decorate space, but time, and he'd lose a thousand hours in your presence if he could.

"I haven't lived here for long," you explained when he asked, eager to hear you talk about yourself. "I travel between planets, seek passage wherever I can find it. Travelling is my favorite thing." You smiled, seeming to lift off your feet at the thought. "What brings you around here?"

"For work," he said, tearing his eyes away from you to look ahead. Feathered creatures were flying low between string lights, the buzz from earlier dulled to a quiet hum. "I find things for folks who want 'em. 'n they pay me to do it. The last buyer was here."

"You're a treasure hunter?" you asked, delighted by the idea. He exhaled softly, smile growing. Treasure hunter sounded much better than bounty hunter.

He nodded, looking back at you. "Yeah. 'xactly. I find pretty things that folks wanna have."

"So you get to go all over the place," you mused, swaying slightly as you walked like a willow in the breeze. "It must be so wonderful."

"It's exciting, sure," he commented, scratching the back of his head. It was beguiling how much interest you were taking in him, in what he did. Nobody had ever done that before.

You chewed on your bottom lip, pace slowing as you seemed to think of something. Lifting your eyes to his, you let go of his hand and asked, "Does anyone ever want to have something like me?" The question was delivered quietly, with a sense of dismay Billy wanted to scrub from the air. You didn't deserve to ever have to feel such harrowing emotions.

He held your gaze, the reality of the situation seeming to gamble with his feelings. Would you want to talk to him after learning what he was, what people in his occupation did? "Yeah," he found himself saying. "But I ain't in that kinda business."

"You're not?" Conduct lightening again, you held a spark of hope in the vision of you.

"I don't go after anythin' livin'. It's cruel," he assured you, searching your eyes. "Others do. But not me."

There it was again, that divine smile that Billy wanted burnt into his eyes. You took his hand again, resuming walking, and he felt something warm him on the inside. "I'm glad. I'm glad that you don't."

"Me too," he agreed, enjoying the weight of your hand in his. It was almost like you didn't realize the significance of the gesture, like you were doing it simply because it felt nice. There was nothing but innocence attached.

It was blissful just walking with you, watching you point out different things around. You were enthralled by every facet of your surroundings, enchanted by the littlest things. It was adorable- the way you'd gasp and lift a gold-tinted fingernail, the object of your fascination ranging from bugs to buildings. It only made you more wholly beautiful, and he wished the walk was longer.

When the sky was completely black, you stopped in your tracks, another little gasp of the variety he'd grown to love passing your lips. "There they are!"

He followed your gaze up, to where the stars were blinking in patterns stretching far and wide, limbs that glittered in the same wondrous way you did. You lifted a hand in a wave that melted his heart, beaming up at the glinting little spheres. "They're my family. I wave at them every night to let them know I'm okay."

Your words were anointed with a reverence artfully arranged. Billy watched you for a moment. "Hope they're okay with me takin' you home."

"They're very grateful that you've kept me safe," you insisted, squeezing his hand gently. He was stabilized by you, held to the ground. If you left the planet, his gravity would be gone and he would float out into the sky with nary a worry except that he wouldn't pass you on his way through space.

The effect of you had to be alchemistic, a mercurial drug crafted specifically to wrench him in like prey to predator. But you were in front of him, soft and sweet with no possible hint of danger. And Billy felt as though he'd been knocked over the head, seeing an illusion borne of his own loneliness. Though anything of that manner would have faded by now. You remained in his line of sight, roseate and sparkling as only a descendant of the heavens could.

The two of you had reached the edge of the forest, the cobblestone street fading into rich brown earth. You were glowing ever so slightly, enough to distinguish you as extraordinary, and he felt as though he was in a dream, trailing behind you as a shadow.

Stopping there, you turned to him, a darling smile seeming to brighten your light. "Thank you again. For walking me home. And for helping me out."

"'s no problem, sweet." The term of endearment slipped out, and he cursed himself for the half a second before you smiled.

"It was nice," you started, and he found himself hanging onto every word, every breath you exhaled. "To talk to someone who wasn't wanting something else from me." Your doe eyes were boring a hole into him, and he would have disintegrated into dust.

"I liked talkin' to you too," he said, hearing the awe he'd felt all night with you creep into his words. "D'ya...d'ya think I'll see you 'round here again?"

"If it's written in the stars," you smiled, letting go of his hand. With one last look at him, you disappeared through the trees in the blink of an eye, soft glow visible through the mess of branches, then fading into the distance like a candle burning out.

For a moment, all Billy could do was stand there, grinning like a fool. He hadn't even known he was capable of feeling as strongly as he had when you were around. He'd held the hand of a fallen star. A daughter of celestial magnitude.

Chuckling in disbelief, he only turned around when your glow was swallowed by the forest, never dimming, just hidden like a light under a bushel. His steps were meandering, and he retraced his footsteps, drunk on the memory of you. Oh, wouldn't it be nice if he saw you again?

It wasn't every day a star girl smiled at him.

Next Part

[poisonously-alluring-sev]

Lost In Jealousy

Severus Snape Masterlist

Summary: You are invited to join The Order and go to your first meeting at Grimmauld Place. Once it's over, a certain dog starts flirting with you in front of your lover.

Severus x Y/N

Time: Order of The Phoenix

Warnings: slight angst

Word Count: 680

Recommended Song: Norman fucking Rockwell by Lana Del Rey & You're in Love by Joe Hisaishi (all songs can be found in my snape playlist in my Spotify account that is linked in my bio)

It's Y/N's first Order meeting, and they're quite happy to finally be allowed to join. Severus, however, is a bit nervous for them and wishes Y/N to think more about it before being asked to potentially fight. They arrive at Headquarters on their own as Severus has some stuff to do before classes start up again. After they give the password and enter the door Y/N can hear talking going on down at the end of a very thin hallway. They take a moment to gaze at the art and the way the place is decorated. After a few minutes, everyone sat down at a very long dining table and began the meeting. Y/N was placed next to the Weasley twins and Severus was just across the table.

The meeting went well, and everyone welcomed Y/N kindly. They did notice however that Sirius, who was seated a few seats across from her kept looking at her while speaking. She didn't think anything of it as it was his place after all and maybe he was trying to be welcoming. His smile was calming, and he was ready to help lead the Order towards victory. Severus would share a glance with Y/N a few times during the meeting, but they kept their minds focused on the matter at hand.

After the meeting, Y/N found themselves just exploring the place a bit and ended up near the kitchen where Sirius appeared and began talking to them.

"Hello again. I hope the place isn't too dusty for you." A kind smile was on his face. Y/N smiled softly back at him.

"I do hope you don't mind the arguing that happened at the meeting. It always happens." Sirius leans against a wall and keeps his eyes on them. They shared some more light conversation before Sirius brought something up as he wanted to share his concern in the matter.

"Now, I've heard that you and sniva-... Snape are somewhat close to each other." Y/N nods in response not sure why he brought it up.

"I got to say he's got good eyes for finding nice and gentle souls." It seems as though Sirius tries to hide his distaste for Severus.

"And those who have a good-looking face." He begins to flirt with Y/N who quickly tries to hint that they aren't interested, but he doesn't quite catch on. During this Severus is standing around the corner in the kitchen and hears all of it. His blood boils and he makes sure that he's right in his suspicions. When he rounds the corner Sirius sees him but that doesn't stop him from continuing.

"You're special, "He smiled. "I get why Snivallius chose you." He leans in closer to Y/N causing them to step back a bit and bumping into Severus who now stands behind them. They stare at each other for a moment before Sirius speaks up.

"Quite a lovely friend you've got there Snivallius." Severus frowns greatly and insults Sirius.

"Yes, now don't go trying to taint them with your 'honeyed' words." The two share some back and forth as Y/N stands between them. They slip their hand into Severus' to let him know that they aren't going anywhere.

"How about you go lick your filthy fur instead."

"Hah! Says the greasy git. Trust me Y/n, you don't want this one anywhere near your lips." Severus begins to start to pick a fight with Sirius, but a voice from behind them stops him.

"Enough the both of you!" Molly comes out from the kitchen as she can hear the whole conversation.

"If you wish to find someone to care for you Sirius, don't go home wreaking." Molly scowls at Sirius and Y/N squeezes Severus' hand as to reassure him. They don't speak about what had happened, but Y/N does get a little more lovely and cuddly afterwards.

Requests?

[bluewinnerangel]

DEMYYLWKDKDN how do you feel at the fact that louis added pretender by foo fighters to the tour playlist when u had it first in the songs he should rec playlist!???? i remember listening to it on your playlist and saving it a while ago and now😭

Okay you've just enabled me to go the fuck off about my own playlists.

I had to dig to find what you meant because my spotify library is getting a little insane but yesyesyse I thought you meant the songs louis hasn't recommended yet playlist (post), but The Pretender is in the teardrop and sabotage playlist (post), my lil larrie rage playlist I turn to when shits happening that makes my blood boil.

Ok but for the going the fuck off bit: HE'S RECCED SO MANY OF THIS STUFF SINCE. I love channeling Louis oh my god I'm so excited about this you have no idea (well you probably have a good idea because I keep yellin asdsf). So I was like ok I want a playlist in the likes of Louis' 28 songs and make something I think he'd make, right? So I made this just before his tour started:

And by now of those 28 songs he's recced:

Talking Heads - Road To Nowhere (Change Over playlist)

The Smiths - There Is a Light That Never Goes Out (Change Over playlist)

Pixies - Where Is My Mind (AFH one of three preshow songs / new Tour Bus Playlist)

The Killers - When You Were Young (new Tour Bus Playlist)

Notable mentions:

I also had put in Pulp - Common People in there? HAHA

Sidetrack: Also the DJ at AFH played Common People after Louis' set, which I'm choosing to take as a teaser from Louis himself there. Just throw that out where everyone can hear but nobody knows they should be listening. Perfect. Anyway so post-show it was like: We Are The Champions, followed by the DJ playing I Kissed A Girl x What You Know mashup and then Common People. SIDETRACK: As for that [the DJ playing music], I made a playlist of all songs I picked up in between bands here, which looks like they did get a playlist from louis but also put their own stuff in there, like there's loads coming from his Tour Bus Playlist but also a lot of Spanish songs were played I did not add to the playlist because I didn't know them them. So yeah a mix.

A lot of songs I picked because I know it's artists he listens to, so it's kinda cheating (like it starts off with The Snuts - Glasgow; he basically did rec that one but I mean I just want that song specifically yk), but then The Hives - Tick Tick Boom I plucked out of my own ass and now he's got Hate To Say I Told You So on his tour bus playlist and is playing it pre-show the last 2 shows and I'm just asjkljkslakj yes yes.

Then I had put in Radiohead twice (Lotus Flower, Karma Police), not based on much other than I think it's good and I think he'd think it's good, but all the public rec he had out there so far was just Creep which like doesn't really mean he likes Radiohead... I mean anyone would put Creep in their playlist without specifically listening to Radiohead beyond that, but since he's added Exit Music (For A Film) which has been on my H+L playlist for even longer because of REASONS ok, and Just. So that's some thumbs up there. Similar things with RHCP, Nirvana, Rage Against The Machine, and The Killers but then again. who doesn't. who wouldn't. us early 90s babies we do this shit to our playlists lol next.

Also the Van Morrison - Crazy Love is a funny one, because I put it on there as there's something about Golden that reminds me of Moondance (the album), so I got this other 28369th playlist somewhere I put "influences" besides songs and there's Golden paired with Crazy Love and Moondance, and that was kinda the thought process behind adding it to this rec list? Because I think this is something he tends to do: add songs that are influences behind 1d songs, his own, but also harry's. Because I mean the influences are songs they love and play it makes sense right right. We're just going in circles there. But point is not Crazy Love but Moondance appeared on the Change Over playlist, coolcoolcool.

And then for the Teardrop and sabotage playlist (again find it here and read the description of it before listening lol), which is a lil less BALRARHAHRGH response because it's got a bunch more like 64 songs on there and it wasn't meant like oh im only gonna pick songs he has never shown to like or anything, it's more like a sweet spot between a few songs they've shown to like in some way that fit the theme, some songs they haven't yet but totally would, and a few that I just like (like I'm not expecting a Slipknot rec out there anytime soon although it would be welcomed; I'm very hyped about the Rage Against The Machine and harder Nirvana ones), anyway here are the songs he's put on the Tour Bus Playlist the other day that were also on my larrie anger playlist:

Nirvana - In Bloom

The Vines - Get Free

Foo Fighters - The Pretender

Queens of the Stone Age - No One Knows

Inhaler - It Won't Always Be Like This

Green Day - American Idiot (Change Over)

(there's a bunch more songs that are in both playlists but I'm not gonna list them as they were already in his playlist when I created mine and so I'd again just be going in circles)

With most of these im going well yeah of course but then The Vines - Get Free I am once again aslkdjsaklj yes yes. yk?

(forever using @swimmingleo's drawing of @ialwaysknewyouwerepunk as a meme; actually i should do it with part 3)

.....that's enough of the LOOK WHAT I GOT RIGHT kinda whatever behavior this is and now for some thoughts, I think it's very interesting the Change Over playlist is very different from the new Tour Bus Playlist and like I've said before it looks to me like the tour bus one is teasing the sound of FITF, while the Change Over is made out of possible feel good singalongs post-show. Although it's interesting he's said in interviews DMAs was a big influence and that one's not on the list. I'm gonna look back on this playlist once FITF is out and see if theres suddenly patterns falling into place like an anagram solving itself lol because it really looks like it's chunks of songs (like 2-7 songs at a time) that sound similar, possibly corresponding to each song on FITF. That also means songs I put on my larrie fuck the system stop it to the ground anger list and songs I think he'd love to recommend are indeed the sounds he's going for on his album which, I can't even tell you how excited that makes me.

[seizethesam]

Ode to an Angel-Chapter 2

Summary: You had been alone in this apocalyptic world since you got seperated from your old group and lost your brother. You were on your way to an old metal factory in the hopes of finding your former group when a herd of walkers dragged you in to the woods. You took refuge in a hut, where you met him. You have got a long road ahead and some reckoning to do. (Set in the end of season 2)

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female Reader

A/N: Ahh... the second chapter is here... Thank you for your likes and reblogs for the first chapter. This is my first time writing Daryl, and I’m a nervous wreck, I don’t know if I’m doing this right ahaha! This chapter reveals more about the reader and her past! I can’t wait to dive deeper into this journey. Feedback is always appreciated. Please let me know what you like or don’t like about the story.

This chapter’s recommended song is “Because We Have To” by Low Roar. 

Spotify  Youtube

Chapter 1

CHAPTER 2  

Then…

At this point you didn’t even know who to trust, this man could even lead you into a trap for that matter. But you knew that the factory would be somewhere near the area he was showing you. 

“Thank you,” you said turning your head to face him. 

He got up from his knees as he let out a humming sound as a response.

“Ya gonna need more than just two bullets if ya gonna take tha’ route,” he said putting your gun and knife back on the table and left the cottage, closing the door behind him.

 Now…

The time had seemed to come and pass. There was a full moon when you had found the old metal factory, and you haven't seen another since then, which told you that it hadn't been a whole month since the factory.

It was a total failure. There were just dead workers walking around. There was nothing, no sign of settlement, no one… your chances of finding your former group were getting low.

You had checked half of the areas that you thought were their kind of places; remote, large, and safe. You didn't know where else to go anymore. They could even be dead by now. But if there were no place to look for, then you were going to look for them. You owed it to your brother.

However, you did not have the energy anymore, being on the road— on foot, was taking all the power you had in you. It could have been weeks since you’ve ended up alone, wandering around to find a bunch of people...

Moreover, you would most definitely be dead by now if it wasn’t for the man with the crossbow. Yes… a couple of weeks ago when you thought that he was taking half your food, he was actually leaving two of the canned food and an additional bottle of water for you. He did not say anything about it, you didn't know why he did it. He just helped you.

You remembered him looking at you before fumbling with his bag.

When you’d checked the drawers again before leaving the cottage, you’d spotted the mushroom soups and the bottle of water. Maybe he looked at you and saw no threat, just a broken girl. He could’ve easily pitied you.

It’d been two days since your food ran out and the boiled dirty water in your canteen was almost finished. You’d avoided eating frogs or snakes since then, but you were starving. It seemed like your belly was sticking to your spine and your lips were cracked from dehydration.

You were walking through the woods, trying to find the highway, then maybe a car to spend the night. The sun was high up in the sky, the Georgian summer heat working against you, your whole body was covered in sweat. The humidity was making it almost impossible to breath.

You could not bring yourself to lift your feet fully to take a step. At this point, you were just dragging them to keep you standing. When you couldn’t keep on going, you sat next to a large tree, laid your back against its trunk, and closed your eyes.

You were all gathered around the fire. The military camp that you took refuge had been bombed a week ago and you were on the run with your little group and your brother. Neither you nor your brother liked to be around people like them; selfish, loathing, and vulgar.

“More people mean better chance at surviving,” he told you, “We just have to put up with them.” You two moved away from the fire to come near the truck.

“I don’t trust them,” you said pointing your chin towards the group of four.

“I know, me neither…” he reassured you, “we need to stick with them ‘till we’re out of the city,” said he.

When the outbreak happened, you and your brother hit the road for the military camp. They said that it was a safe haven for all people, and it really was— until the government bombed the whole place down. You’d managed to get out with a small group of people. You were with them ever since.

“Okay, but I don’t know how long I can keep up with that asshole’s bullshit,” you said turning your head to the brunette man sitting beside the fire. He was just a few years older than your brother. He had good survivalist skills, but he was a total self-absorbed asshat, who kept ordering people around like he was the one in charge.

“You will have to try, sis, just a little while longer, ” your brother said as he wrapped his strong arms around your shoulders.

           You reluctantly opened your eyes. Resting for a few minutes did good for your body. You reached for your canteen to take sip from your little remaining water, wanting to boost your energy just a little more to keep going. As the warm water washed down your throat, you found yourself wanting more but you refused to drink any more.

           As you tried to get up from the forest floor and reached to support yourself, your hand connected with something slightly colder and moist. You turned your gaze towards the object and saw a large beige colored mushroom.

           You once ate a mushroom that looked just like this one, so you assumed that it was not poisonous. Even if it were, you were too hungry to think on it.

           “Hello dinner,” you said smiling to yourself as you reached for the wild plant.

           You broke the mushroom from its root with a swift motion. You did not want to waste your matches for cooking. You mostly used the matches to start a fire to boil the dirty puddle water. You blew air onto the large plant to get rid of the excess dirt and soil.

           You started to eat with such hunger that the mushroom was gone within minutes. You were far from being full, but it was going to have to do.

           You got up from the ground after eating the whole thing. You needed to move forward. The highway was only couple of hours away and you had plenty of time to get there before the sunset.

           To your surprise, you did not come across that many of the dead throughout the day. There were couple of stray ones here and there. You didn't even bother to kill them. To be honest, you were still scared to get close. You did not interact with them unless you had to.

           After a while of walking, you needed to stop as your stomach started to feel funny. You felt a sudden urge to throw up, but it didn’t happen. You were having hard time figuring out where to step as the trees were all in motion, their branches intentionally blocking your way. You continued walking, but you fell a moment later when the forest floor beneath you began to move. Mushroom…

           A second later, a piercing pain shoot through the left side of your waist, a warm red liquid spreading around a spot, marking the fabric of your top. You had just realized that you’d fallen over a piece of wood.

You sat on your knees and removed the piece of wood with a groan. You successfully got up despite the mobile ground and the biting pain on your abdomen.

When you were fully standing you untied your shirt around your waist and pressed it to your wound with one hand. Beads of sweat were crawling down your temples to your chin. Just as you were about to move your feet, you recognized a figure standing in front of you.

           It was a male figure, slightly taller than you, broad shoulders, dark greasy hair…

           “What the hell are you doing here?�� The figure talked. His voice was very familiar.

           “What?” that was all you could say, you were in utter shock that the man appeared out of nowhere.

           “It isn’t worth it, (Y/N),” now that the he’d talked again, you finally figured out who the figure was.

           “Matt?” It was your brother. Your chin trembled as you spoke his name. This wasn’t real. No, it was not.

           “What you’re doing…isn’t worth it.” He repeated.

           “Yes—yes, it is…” you said. Your voice was hoarse because of the lump in your throat. Tears were threatening to spill.

           “Stop chasing something you’re not supposed to, sis,” he spoke so tenderly. You felt a pang of grief inside your chest. Well… at this point your heart was taken out of your chest and was squeezed in someone’s hands. That was what it felt like.

           “They killed you—,” your sentenced was cut when he spoke, “It doesn’t matter what they did to me. Be smart,” he urged you, his sharp gaze was piercing through you.

           “Matt…” you were going to argue but in the blink of an eye, the figure disappeared. “Matthew!” You shouted after him, but he was long gone, and it wasn’t meant to last. You knew that it was the mushroom. You ran after him anyway, not bothering the pain, but your legs failed to carry your weight as you fell flat o your face.

           Dehydration, starvation, and exhaustion all together had tired you. The poisonous mushroom and the blood loss did no good on top of all. The dizziness was unbearable now. Your stomach ached like someone had punched you with full force.

Sleep and it will be all over. A voice inside your head snapped. You struggled to get up, but your surroundings went dark and the last thing you saw was the dying sun on the Georgia horizon.

Your eyes fluttered open just a little as you feel yourself moving. But no, you were not laying on the rough forest ground. Instead, you were being carried. A moment later, your eyes closed again, not allowing you to identify the person carrying you.

Muffled voices raised around you; they were two men; you could tell that one of them was old.

“…your responsibility.” The older voice said.

Your mind immediately went to the sharp pain on your abdomen. You frowned at the aching pain as you opened your eyes.

“Hey, she’s waking up,” the younger man said. He looked like he was in his thirties and had dark wavy hair that he had swept back. His sounded cautious. Next to him was the older man.

“Where the hell am I?” You asked the older them; your voice was croaky from sleep.

“Good morning, my name is Hershel.” The man talked, he was much older than the other man, his hair was whiter than the snow. You did not know these people. The last thing you remembered was the sunset, the pain and a person carrying you in the dark. Maybe you did find what you were looking for all this time. But you had to be smart.

***

Chapter 3

[blxxdyvalentine19xx]

Internet Killed The Rockstar - Mod Sun Album Review by blxxdyvalentine19xx

Derek “Mod Sun” Smith’s 11 track Album Internet Killed The Rockstar debuted at midnight on February 12th, 2021, compared to his usual Hippy Hop as he calls it, IKTR is a much more Punk Rock sound. It opens with the lead single “Karma”, followed by both “Bones” and “Flames” I woke up this morning and hopped onto Spotify to give it a listen to.

Karma: The opening track to the album, Angry and loud. I didn’t much care for it at first, It took me a while to love this one. His ex girlfriend was quick to jump onto youtube with a storytime video, in which she suggests it’s about her, some believe it to be and others believe it to be about Bella Thorne. I was under the impression that Mod and Tana were on good terms last year so I don’t really know, I’m more convinced that it’s about Bella. It’s a banger of an opening track though.    

Bones: There’s a lot to this song, I remember the teaser he released for this piece. I’ve listed to the song almost as i have to that teaser. He explains in the breakdown of the track that it sounds like what the first few seconds before a car crash feels like, calm. This song absolutely put me through it, I lost a family member to a motor vehicle accident a few years back and never really moved on from it. Somehow through this song, Mod brought me the ability to heal from it and move on from the weight I carried with the accident. So thank you Mod Sun for a track so beautiful.

Flames (Ft Avril Lavigne): The only feature on the entire album and it’s a literal piece of art! It starts out with Avril’s melodic voice before jumping into Mod Sun’s explosive screaming vocals in the post-chorus. His vocals on this track doesn’t make me love it any less, in fact i’m in love with the track. Mod threw all he had at this track and gave us something that will hopefully stand the test of time. As many times as I have heard this song, I never tire of it.Avril has been the voice of a couple generations now and It’s amazing to see such a powerful collaboration as this one.

Betterman: I don’t know, I’m not really feeling this track so I don’t have a lot to say about it. He does say in it that someone makes him want o be a better man and that the same person saves him.To be nice about it I’m saying little about it. He does say at one point that he doesn’t want to die lonely, that’s a line i can vibe with, being lonely is one of the worst feelings in the world. It’s a beautifully worded track.

Prayer: I just listened to this song again, there’s a part of me that feels the message Mod puts out. I’ve saw what those white lines do to people, I nearly lost a friend to them in high school so Mod hit me with a load of built up emotions here. My life had been impacted by someone who hit their worst on drugs and I carry those thoughts everyday. The way he delivers this track is melodic and gives you a way to look positively on your future. Every action is a reaction. I know i’m rambling but  I don’t know just how to word what this song does to me, it makes me feel numb as I reflect on things I’ve been through. 2020 was my year to find my a better path and jut like Mod, I’m trying desperately to try on it.I wasn’t in a good place and this song feels like what my past was in words.

TwentyNUMB: It sounds to me like it starts out as a rap track before quickly reminding me of ‘Circles” by post malone mixed with an early 2000′s track that I can’t remember the name of now. As of right now I don’t have a clear explanation of the track. It’s good but it’ll have to grow on me. It may to chaotic for me as I’m neurodiverget and there’s so much to try and focus on in this that I start to get panicky and can’t focus on the lryics of it at all. it’s upbeat though so that’s a good thing.

Smith: We know this is about his father from the voice intro it carries. The lyrics carry you through a mostly negative father - son relationship, as it progresses, Mod goes on to say there will always be a room in his house for his late father. It’s a tough one for me as my relationship with my father is beginning to fade and this song brings up the pain that i’ve endured the past few years seeing the father I once knew and loved change into a man I no longer know. I can’t help but cry hearing the pain in Mod’s voice when he delivers this track, even though my father is still living, i’m tasked with having to grieve the man I looked up to and that’s what this song does for me, it’s started the process of me letting go of what I have to for my sake. I don’t know how much longer I have with my father due to his health but this sing will forever make me think of him. No matter what a parent puts us through, there’s still that little kid locked inside us that loves them no matter what.

Rollercoaster: I’ve linked the song. The lyrics explain themself. Noting I can really say about it aside from being proud of Mod and the effort he’s made to staying sober.

Annoying: Shit’s cute! I will definitely be dancing around my kitchen to this song. It’s such a feel good song. My one qualm about it though is the “ for your eyes only” line, the One Direction fan in me only ever hears “ass” instead of “eyes” I can’t do much else but laugh over the line because of it. The song sounds as id Mod is declaring unrequited love to whoever this mystery girl he speaks of in numerous lyrics across the album. Whoever she is, she must be pretty damn special. The bridge make sit sounds as thought she makes him tongue tied when all he wants to do is tell her how much he loves her. Overall, Annoying is a really cute song.

Pornstar: This song starts out with Mod portraying himself as a really kind of shit guy, from missing his girls birthday to not being there after her surgery, like man, that’s low. The lyrics later sate that he’ll make up for his dickish behavior and fuck her like a pornstar, now we can assume he’s referring to himself as the pornstar here. He also talks about her sending him a paragrah every morning, he barely reads it and sends the ever dreaded one word answer, I’m a guy and that boils my blood, i’m a romantic at heart and a poet, one word answers are my least favourite thing. The chorus to Pornstar is damn well catchy almost as catchy as herpes, thank you to @triplexdoublex​ for that golden line. it’s been out a little over a day now and it’s already my fifth most listened to song, that’s saying something.

Internet Killed The Rockstar: I was in a dream driving in my Ford Explorer at 16 years old by myself. I snuck out of the house, not to go fucking spray-paint the side of a building or go meet up with a girl. No, so I could go ride around my city and scream the lyrics of a song and pretend that it was my song. That’s literally what I did as a kid. The song that was playing was ‘Internet Killed the Rockstar.’It painted the story of when the kid inside me essentially died and turned into a person that was living in a new age. I grew up quickly, but I’ve remained able to be in touch with this childlike sense inside me. [The song] is my tribute to the kid who literally thought he was never going to make it. And guess what? You made it! You made it. Direct quote from Mod’s Genius Music page. Nothing more to be said here other than I feel this on a personal level, I was in a place once where I never once thought I’d see my senior year of high school let alone where I am today. I’ve had to grow up quick lately and this song gives me comfort.

[wistfulcynic]

The Ballad of Emma and Killian

This began life as a little drabble of rockstar!Emma and actor!Killian--not my favourite trope but I thought I’d give it a try. And then @thisonesatellite FORCED me to actually like it and once I did it kept getting bigger and bigger until it became DRABZILLA and had to go in Secret Things instead. SO. 

Part 8 of Secret Things. This one is really very sweet. Struggling young artists in love stick together through the hard times until the good ones come. A little slice of life with just the teensiest little bit of Neal being an asshole and getting what-for. 

Summary: They aren’t famous when they meet, or when they fall in love. As the years go by and their careers flourish along with their fame, their love endures. 

Words: 2.2k Rating: T Tags: actor au, rockstar au, fluff, secret relationships

On AO3

Importing the tag list from Drabbles, apologies if you didn’t want a tag here: 

@thisonesatellite @kmomof4 @teamhook @courtorderedcake @jonirobinson64 @tiganasummertree @stahlop@mariakov81@facesiousbutton82

The Ballad of Emma and Killian: 

They’re not famous when they meet. Her band is still playing bars and clubs and he’s barely managed to scrape a few minor roles in local theatre. They’re not famous, but they see the potential in each other. 

“You’re brilliant with that,” he tells her, nodding at the guitar she’s slung over her shoulder. He’s had just enough to drink to give him the confidence to speak to her but not so much that he’s going to tell her he came here tonight expressly to see her play. 

“Oh yeah?” She has her eyes on the barman mixing her drink, doesn’t look at him until she’s got it in her hand. “Do you—” Her eyes widen when she turns towards him, and a smile tugs the corner of her mouth as she slowly takes him in. “—play?” she finishes finally. 

He’s grinning wide, flattered and more than a little turned on by her bold appraisal. “Only a few chords,” he says. “I’m an actor mostly.” 

“Of course you are.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just that you’re really pretty. I bet those eyes show up well on camera.” 

“I wouldn’t know, love, I’ve not managed to land anything that requires a camera quite yet.” 

“You will.” 

They end up in her hotel room, a nondescript place on the Lambeth Road. She shrugs and says she’s got far better things to spend her money on than somewhere to sleep, then proceeds to make that dingy room the most memorable place he’s ever been. 

The next morning she has to head off early, to Manchester for her next gig. He walks her to the tube station and  kisses her in front of it, then pulls back, memorising her face. 

“Nice to meet you, Emma Swan,” he says. 

She smiles. “And you, Killian Jones.” 

—

Emma plays a dozen gigs in Manchester and word begins to get out. On the band’s last night in town an A&R rep is in the audience, and when she wakes up the next morning she has a record deal. She should be happy, she knows; she is happy, thrilled in fact, but she can’t get those blue eyes out of her head, or the wistful note in his voice when he said her name. 

She goes back to London, back to the pub where they met. She goes with no hope or expectation, and when she sees Killian there at the bar her heart leaps and when she sits beside him and he grins in delight she feels like she’s come home.  

—

“I have a record deal,” she tells him, after. 

His whole face lights up. “That’s brilliant!” he says. “You’re brilliant.” 

She flushes at the praise and he takes her hand, twining his fingers with hers. “Emma,” he says, looking around the bland room they’re in. “Nothing against your taste in hotels, love, but I wonder if you would care to see my flat. It’s not much but it’s better than here.” 

It is. He lives in the attic of an old house, fitted with a tiny kitchen and tinier bathroom, and a bed that folds out from the faded sofa. 

“A garret!” She laughs. “Perfect for a starving actor.” 

“That’s exactly the aesthetic I was going for,” he says, laughing with her. He wraps an arm around her shoulders. “It suits an emerging musician as well.” 

She snuggles into his side. It does. 

—

They get married in a simple ceremony at the Southwark registry office; far too soon, his brother says with frowning disapproval and her parents Skype them from Maine to say the same, but they don’t care and they don’t listen. They are sure of each other, and deeply in love. 

The first few years are hard. Emma has to tour to promote her album and Killian takes every acting job he can, always hoping the next one will be his big break. The album is a huge success and the tour is extended; she is exhausted and burnt out and misses her husband, but she loves her music and the thrill of performing for the huge crowds, and they call each other every day, no matter what. His unwavering support keeps her going.  

—

Her fame grows and she begins to do interviews, answering probing questions about her music and her life. The interviewers don’t ask her if she’s married and she doesn’t volunteer the information. She doesn’t wear her wedding ring onstage —she doesn’t like anything on her fingers when she plays— and she allows people to keep the conclusions they draw. The interviews appear online and on television, and soon Killian starts to hear people talking about her. He beams with pride whenever someone says they like her music, and when the remarks touch on the personal he simply shrugs them off. People can be assholes, but he knows his wife. 

When her tour finally finishes they take a vacation— a month in the Seychelles, just the two of them in a beach hut with crystal blue water stretching out to the horizon. It is pure bliss; she unwinds for the first time in more than a year, and by the time they’re back in London the two of them are expecting a third. She tells her manager she’s taking a break to write some new songs and spends the next year in their tiny attic flat, playing her guitar and growing her baby, and watching her husband perform in his first lead role on the West End. People keep to themselves in the neighbourhood where they live, and if anyone recognises ‘the cultural heir of Nancy Wilson crossed with Jack White’ or ‘British theatre’s fastest-rising star’ the tabloids are not informed. 

They have never been happier. 

—

They’ve been married nearly five years when Killian’s big break finally comes. He lands a role in an American TV show and brings his family with him when he moves to Boston for filming. Emma’s on tour again but she Skypes him and the kids —they have two of them now— in their new place and tells them she can’t wait to be there. She tells him in private that his eyes look great on camera, as she always knew they would.

His new costars know he’s married, of course, he talks about his wife a lot but refers to her only as ‘Emma,’ a common enough name that no one thinks anything of it. The show is a breakaway hit and he finds himself suddenly famous, suddenly the focus of more female attention than even his handsome self is accustomed to, and fielding interview questions more probing than any he’s encountered before. He doesn’t hide his wedding ring but he also doesn’t mention who his wife is. His marriage is private, and there’s enough scrutiny on his personal life as it is. 

—

“You know who I’d really like for this role?” the lead showrunner says to Killian one day, discussing a new character being introduced in the show’s third season. “Emma Swan. Do you think she’d be interested in getting into acting?” 

He chokes on his coffee. “How would I know?” he asks cautiously. 

The showrunner shrugs. “I know you’re a fan of hers,” he says. “I’ve seen your Spotify. Anyway, it’s pure speculation. I think she has the perfect look for the character, but I’ve got no idea if she can act.” 

“Well, I’d love to work with Emma Swan,” says Neal Cassidy, the show’s secondary male lead. “Whether she can act or not, she’s a hell of a piece of ass. Nothing hotter than a chick who plays guitar.” 

Killian concentrates hard on not punching the man in his leering face. He’s had to listen to a lot of people talk about how hot his wife is over the years and most of the time it doesn’t bother him, even when the remarks veer into the lewd. But he’s never really clicked with Cassidy, and the idea of the smug arsehole trying it on with Emma makes his blood boil. 

“If she does join the show, I’m sure one way she’ll act is professionally,” he says stiffly. “And I’d hope the rest of us would too.” 

“Oooh hooo,” says Neal in a taunting singsong. “Someone’s got a little crush.” 

Killian gets up from the table and tosses his coffee cup in the trash with deliberate control. “If anyone needs me I’ll be in my trailer,” he says. 

—

“I had an interesting call from my manager today,” says Emma over dinner that night. “Apparently I’ve had an offer to read for a part on your show.” 

“Yeah,” Killian replies. “Bob was telling me he thinks you’d be perfect for the role. What do you think?” 

She shrugs. “Acting’s really your thing. I wouldn’t want to step on your toes.” He’s sure she means this, but there’s a wistfulness in her voice and he knows she’s getting tired of all the touring and would love something more stable that didn’t take her away from their kids. 

He reaches across the table to take her hand. “You wouldn’t be, love, you know that,” he says, smiling at her. “If this is something you really want to try, you should try it.” 

She smiles back, warm and soft. Her smile will be great on camera. “I think I will then,” she says. 

“Good.” 

She squeezes his hand. “I love you, Killian Jones.” 

“And I you, Emma Swan.” 

—

“Hey, hey, did you see her?” Neal elbows him in the ribs and once again Killian has to suppress the desire to respond with his fist. 

“Who?” he asks, though he knows the answer. 

“Emma Swan, bruh. She’s meeting with Bob right now. She walked right by me on the way to his office and lemme tell you, she’s even hotter in person, if you can believe it.” 

He thinks of his wife as he saw her that morning, all messy hair and tired eyes, cradling their youngest in her arms and singing softly to her as she nursed. “I can believe it,” he says. 

“Hair like that, man, you just wanna wrap it around your fist and pull—” Killian turns his back and stalks away before he can hear what Neal wants to pull, reminding himself firmly that beating up a costar is frowned upon in the industry, and he would like to work again once this show ends. 

He goes to his trailer and waits for Emma to finish her audition. Ten minutes later she slips through the door, flushed and glowing, and walks straight into his arms.  

“How did it go?” he asks, as if he can’t read the answer on her face. 

“They want me to start filming next week,” she replies, and her smile is radiant.  

“That’s brilliant!” He hugs her close, grinning into her hair. “You’re brilliant.” 

She leans back, studies his face. “And you’re sure you don’t mind, babe? I can still say no—” 

“Absolutely not, you’ve earned this and Bob’s right, the character is perfect for you. Though it does mean we’ll probably have to tell people we’re married.” 

She laughs. “Well, it’s been eight years now, I guess it’s about time we came clean. Plus it’s not like it’s a secret as such, it’s just something we’ve never told anyone before.” 

He joins in her laughter and then he kisses her, a sweet, soft kiss that soon turns hot. She’s never visited him on set before, of course, and he finds himself overwhelmed by the desire to make love to her here, in this place where he has spent long days of filming sitting alone and missing her.  

He lifts her onto the back of his armchair, pushing her skirt up her thighs so he can stand between them. She wraps her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck and grinds against him. They are lost in each other —this is how it’s always been between them— and neither of them hears the door to the trailer open or senses Neal’s slack-jawed presence until he manages to close his mouth and find his voice. 

“Son of a bitch!” he yells. 

Emma and Killian break apart and turn to glare at the intruder. 

“What the fuck, man?” shouts Neal. “Aren’t you married?”

“Aye, mate.” Killian is fuming, his jaw clenched and his eyes like shards of ice. “Allow me to introduce you to my wife. This is Emma.” 

Neal chokes and his eyes go wide as he clearly tries to remember just how disgustingly offensive he’s been about Emma Swan. 

“Look, man,” he stutters. “I’m sorry—” 

“No you’re not,” says Killian coldly. “But you are unwelcome. Kindly fuck yourself off now so my beautiful wife can fuck me.” He turns back to Emma, who pulls him in and resumes their kiss. 

Neal stumbles and nearly falls as he backs out of the trailer, still stuttering apologies, but they are too busy tearing off each other’s clothes to notice. 

—

They weren’t famous when they met, or when they married. But they are when they announce their relationship to a press and a public that goes mad over it. They’re at the top of every gossip site and trending on every social media network. Offers of joint interviews come pouring in, all of which they decline, which —people and the internet being what they are and what it is— only adds to their mystique. They are the story of the decade— for nearly an entire week, until Neal gets caught soliciting a prostitute who turns out to be an undercover cop, and everyone forgets about Emma Swan and Killian Jones. 

Which is just the way they like it. 

[jawnjendes]

it might be smarter to just cash out | shawn mendes

chapter 10/?, university au, shawn x goth oc

AN: depression sucks doesnt it laid ease! it really fuckin does!!!!

***let me know if you wanna be added/removed from the taglist

masterlist | playlist (new song is added every chapter!)

Despite the weight pressing on her chest and shoulders, Annalise didn’t feel all that much in the following days. Her body went on autopilot, sending her to class in the day and putting her on the couch in the evening. She went to work at somepoint too. Everything in between was sort of a blur.

She came back to the dorm after her third or fourth, maybe fifth class, not really knowing or caring about the assignments or essays that were due very soon. Annalise placed her bag on the couch and looked at the TV; She wasn’t in the mood to play the Switch today. She wanted to sleep for a bit before work instead.

The door to her room was open just a crack, which would have seemed weird on any other day. Annalise didn’t have the ability to care as she pushed the door open, not expecting to find Stella in there, sat on the bed.

“What…” Annalise trailed off, her mind lagging and struggling to catch up.

Stella was looking down at her hands; She was holding three full pill bottles. Then she looked up at her roommate, hazel eyes serious.

“I didn’t wanna be right, but I was right,” she said as she got to her feet. “I thought you were skipping out on your meds, but I didn’t think you had missed three months’ worth of doses.”

For a moment, Annalise just stood there silently. She didn’t intend to miss taking her Prozac these days, she didn’t think anyone would care enough to notice. She blinked a few times like she was waking up from a death nap, and then her insides boiled hot. She stepped towards Stella and snatched the bottles from her hands.

“Why are you in my room to begin with?” she demanded.

Stella flinched lightly at the sudden change. She hardly heard a peep out of her roommate these days. “I… I’ve been worried about you.”

“So you think going through my stuff is gonna solve anything? God, I can’t trust anybody!”

“I’m sorry!” She stood up. “I didn’t want to do this either, but you’ve been so out of it that I don’t know how to talk to you anymore! And I’m not the only one who’s worried!”

Annalise scoffed and went back out to the living room. She grabbed her book bag and furiously shoved the bottles inside. She wasn’t even safe in her own dorm.

Stella followed her trail. “Shawn made me do it!”

That didn’t help in the slightest. “Why are you even talking to him?”

“Because you won’t! This was a bad idea, I don’t even know why I tried to help him since you guys broke up!”

That caused Annalise to look down and play with the strap on her bag. For once, she didn’t have anything to say back.

Stella narrowed her eyes. “You did break up with him, right?”

“I’m sure he got the hint when I cried and left,” Annalise said, snark still in her tone.

“Oh my god! You know that doesn’t go through his one brain cell! He needs to be told it’s over. I can’t believe you didn’t dump him after what he said to you!”

“It’s complicated, okay?”

“Why? Because of your separation?” Stella was confused, and a little frustrated. “Who even does that in this day and age? You just made yourself and him suffer unnecessarily! Why can’t you just put him out of his misery?”

Annalise couldn’t keep her volume down anymore. “Because he’s the only good thing that’s happened to me!”

The words rang in the room. The two girls were staring at each other, Annalise being furious and Stella being… something else. She broke the eye contact first and looked down.

“What about your family, who you didn’t get to see at all last summer?” she asked softly. “Or the fact that you made it to this university on a scholarship that you worked for? What about Patrick, Camila, and me? Don’t we matter?”

Annalise stayed quiet, knowing she should have dialed it back, but too stubborn to actually do so. She kept her eyes on her book bag, brows knitted.

“Having shitty past relationships isn’t a personality trait,” Stella said, and then she went for the door. She opened it and sighed. “And someone really wants your attention.”

There was a slight shuffling noise and then the door slammed. That was Annalise’s cue to finally look up. There was a large white vase containing a bouquet of dark flowers by the door, and it made her angry all over again.

“This motherfucker!” she snapped as she irritably got up to snatch the vase.

It was surprisingly light with the amount of flowers coming out of it. They were a deep red shade, almost burgundy but not quite. The petals were round and soft and smelled… chocolatey? Annalise would have been confused if she wasn’t so disgruntled. She noticed the tiny card sticking out from the top of the bouquet and was surprised to see the entire backside filled with scrawled handwriting.

“I’m sorry for what I said. I know these chocolate cosmos won’t change anything, but I hope it shows that I will make this up to you. I love you so much, and I’ll always remind you of that. -Shawn

PS they smell great but you can’t eat them”

Annalise scoffed lightly and looked at the bouquet again. As she pondered the ideas of what to do these things, there was a knock on the door. Did this boy have no boundaries? She ignored the sound and went to sit on the couch, placing the vase on the coffee table.

The knocking was as persistent as Annalise was determined not to answer. But then a voice came up with the sounds.

“Annie, open the fucking door!”

“Oh shit,” she mumbled, and hurried to answer.

Patrick was in the middle of blowing smoke out of his mouth from his pen. He quirked his eyebrows, noticing his friend’s rugged state. “You’re a fucking mess.”

It was true. Annalise practically lived in her skull and crossbones pajama bottoms and her Little Mix hoodie these days. But the comment still rubbed her the wrong way.

“Are you only here to criticize my appearance?” she asked, pointing daggers.

“Relax, dude. I heard about what happened with your singing man. Wanted to see if you wanted to talk, or if you needed a shoulder to cry on,” he told her.

There was a three second silence, to which Annalise replied, “Shut the fuck up.”

Patrick chuckled. “I know, I know. But I did wanna see if you’re okay. I got my pen if you wanna forget about it all.”

She stepped aside and let him inside. “How did you even know?”

“Alessia told me. I’m guessing Shawn told her.”

Both names sent her blood boiling again. “Neither of them can keep their mouths shut, I see.”

“Dude, it’s not a big deal-”

“It doesn’t matter! Wanna cut up some flowers with me?”

Patrick blinked, confused by the sudden change in topic. “Uh, sure. Should we go get some?”

“I have some here.” She gestured to the cosmos on the table. “And there two pairs of scissors here somewhere.”

“Uh, then hell yeah. Let’s do it!”

~

“I have to say,” Callie mused, “you’ve made a lot of progress, and I’m very proud of you.”

Shawn smiled, despite still feeling that horrible ache in his chest. Nothing could really mend that ache but time, according to Callie. After spending the last hour practically pouring his heart and soul out, everything Shawn was feeling about Ann was deemed completely normal. He’s just a twenty-one year old kid in love and very frustrated at the situation. That was why this would be his last therapy session.

“I’m glad I did this,” he replied. “You really helped me put some things in perspective.”

“Just doing my job,” she told him. “It was wonderful getting to know you, Shawn.”

He gave Callie a hug before leaving her office for the last time. As he walked out to the parking lot, Shawn felt just a little accomplished that he could cross one thing off the list he made in his head. All he had to do now was wait for calls back from 1) a live lounge downtown and 2) his boss from the flower shop. Shawn also needed to call his parents and have quite the conversation, but that could wait a little longer. What he had to do now was to meet up with Stella, the only person to return his calls. You could say this is what kept him going these last few days.

She told him over text that she would be at Camila’s dorm. Not surprising in the slightest, but it also meant that Shawn would have to make two stops in the building. He had been sending flowers to Ann all week, all sorts of black flowers that he ordered to the shop specially for her. Everyday when Ann was in class, Shawn would stop by and leave a different type of flower with another apology note. Today’s bouquet was an array of black velvet petunias.

Shawn pretended not to notice the pairs of eyes on him as he walked down the third floor corridor on campus. He knew he had followers online, he just never realized how much of that bled into his real life. He reached Ann’s door and left the vase at the bottom of the threshold. He didn’t bother knocking, for he knew that someone would open the door sooner or later. He knew better than to stay and wait too, because Ann knew how to hold a grudge.

He was back in the elevator as soon as he left it, except now it seemed like the entire floor needed a ride down as well. Shawn stood closest to the doors, his back to a group of first year girls, once again pretending not to notice the blushing smiles and soft giggles. After badly telling Ann he liked another woman’s attention, things like this just made him feel guilty.

Shawn was able to breathe once the doors opened one floor down. However, he only breathed for one second, taking two steps out of the elevator.

“Hey!”

Fuck.

He turned to find one of the girls followed him out into the corridor. His eyes glanced to the elevator, where the rest of the girls watched the interaction as the doors closed once again. Then he smiled politely at the one standing in front of him. “Hi.”

The blonde girl returned the smile. “Um… I know we’ve never met before. I’m Elizabeth, uh, Liz. I follow you on Instagram. And Spotify. Love your music.”

“Thank you,” he replied.

“I was uh, I was wondering if you wanted to go out sometime?” she asked, tangling her fingers together, clearly nervous.

“Ah, I’m sorry, I’ve got a girlfriend.”

Her face fell rather quickly. “It’s that crazy goth girl, right?”

It was one gross feeling when Shawn called her that. It was something else when he heard it come from a complete stranger. He narrowed his eyes.

“What do you mean by that?”

She knew she said something wrong and quickly tried and failed to make up for it. “Uh, nothing bad. Just… y’know, the way she dresses. Wearing pentagrams like it’s a cute accessory. And that look on her face when she walks across campus. It’s like she’s out for blood.”

Shawn chuckled. “You don’t know anything about her. You don’t know what’s underneath the dark exterior.”

“No, but I know lots of other people have seen what’s under those black clothes,” Liz muttered.

“Like I said, you know nothing about her. Do me a favor, don’t talk to me again.”

Without waiting for a comeback, Shawn turned on his heel and went down the corridor. He could have said so much more to that girl. He could have explained that Ann’s tough exterior hid her soft interior. He could have explained that pentagrams aren’t a direct link to Satanism. Disgruntled, he knocked on the appropriate door and Camila answered.

“Some people are so fucking rude!” Shawn said, unable to keep it in.

Camila nodded. “Hi. Won’t you come in?”

He stepped inside the tiny space and found Stella lying facedown on the bed. She rolled over upon hearing his voice and sat up. She did not beat around the bush for a second as she looked Shawn dead in the eyes.

“You need to break up with Ann.”

Shawn blinked. “Huh?”

Camila sighed audibly. “We went over this, babe.”

“Oh yeah, she’s been off her meds for three months,” Stella added with a mindless wave of her hand. “Anyway, she’s torturing herself and you with the separation thing, and that shit needs to stop.”

“Three months?” Shawn repeated. “Is she gonna get back on them? What is she doing about it?”

“Don’t know. Don’t care. Dump her.”

And she rolled onto her side again, facing the wall.

Shawn just stared at her, bewildered. His mouth was open, but none of the million questions he had came out. Then, Camila nudged his arm, and she gestured for the door. The two of them stepped out into the hallway.

“She got into a fight with Ann,” she explained. “It was so bad that I have to go to her dorm later to get her clothes and schoolwork and whatnot.”

He raised his eyebrows in shock. “Stella and Ann? The two wives fought?”

“From what Stella told me, they yelled. Ann said some really fucked up stuff.”

“What? No, Ann doesn’t yell. Unless she’s… off her meds. And… upset.” Shawn paused and leaned against the wall. He thought back to the arguments he got into with her when they lived together during the summer. He counted on his fingers back to the month it started happening, and what was happening at the time, and his stomach turned heavy.

He might have just figured out the cause of all this.

~

Performing in front of a crowd wasn’t as scary anymore. Shawn’s hands would shake and he would use the bathroom an excessive amount of times, but the nerves settled down once he was onstage/ This time he had the desire to run away the longer he stood outside Ann’s dorm with his guitar strapped around him. His face was warm and his hands were clammy as he clutched his instrument. He checked the time on his watch again, stalling because he knew Ann was home. He heard a couple of doors open, slowly gaining an audience. He had to do it, and he began to sing.

“I got my bags all packed and I’m ready to go I’m standing outside of your figurative door And I’m ready for the flight or to fall off a cliff But if it’s alright with you I’d rather not miss out on us”

Just about every door nearby had opened, except the one Shawn was singing to. He persisted, though, no matter how much it scared him. He was practically poking the dragon in its cage.

“I could use something good, I really need this to work out Of course with the way things are going, It might be smarter to just cash out But you’re on my mind… and the things that you say hurt most of the time But I’m sinking fast so it’s alright”

He kept strumming and singing, ignoring the excited murmurs coming from the onlookers around him. His eyes widened when he saw the doorknob suddenly move. More excited noises came from the unexpected audience when Ann finally opened the door wide enough to stick her head out.

She looked exactly the way she did when Shawn first laid eyes on her. Messy hair, tired eyes, tattered t-shirt. Shawn’s heart swelled and beat fast, trying to read the expression on her face. No single person has made him so nervous before.

“You said you never wanna be saved, well That’s okay because I wouldn’t know how Just know that the best I’ll ever be is whatever you make me And wherever you are You’re on my mind…”

Ann moved to lean against the door way; She was in her skull & crossbone pajama bottoms, something Shawn adored and secretly wanted to steal for himself. He also couldn’t help but wonder if she left the dorm today. What kind of state was she in?

Shawn skipped to the end of the song. “...I need you, I need you, I need you to know… I’m alright…”

The surrounding dorm residents applauded and cheered. Ann glanced around the corridor, staring down all the heads that had popped out of the doors. Then she found Shawn’s hopeful eyes and stepped to the side, nodding for him to come inside.

Several gasps sounded in the hallway as Shawn stepped into her dorm. He took his guitar from the strap and set it against the wall, noticing the vase of petunias on the table Just the one vase. What did she do with the rest of them?

Ann calmly shut the door. “Cute performance.”

“Thanks,” Shawn replied. “Look, I-”

She cut him off. “So what was the plan? Serenade me in front of a bunch of strangers so that way I’m forced to fall back into your arms to avoid looking like an asshole?”

And there’s that awful sinking sensation. Shawn’s had a feeling this would happen. “No, that’s not-”

“You know I hate public things like that!” she snapped, raising her voice. “It’s like you don’t even know me at all!”

Shawn was very taken aback at how quickly Ann got riled up. It’s not like he was expecting her to forgive him right away, but he wasn’t expecting this either. It was supposed to be a romantic gesture, like sending all those flowers that seemed to be nowhere in the dorm.

“Don’t yell at me,” he told her. “And I’m sorry. I didn’t realize-”

“You didn’t realize how important my privacy is to me!” She seemed to only get more pissed off. “Do you know how many people have asked me if we broke up? And I wondered how anyone knew about that, and then I figured you probably told-”

“And stop interrupting me!” Shawn firmly said, silencing her. He took a deep breath. “I was trying to do a nice thing, something to show you how sorry I am for what I said. But I don’t get why it’s such a big deal! Yes, I told a couple of friends about our fight because that’s what friends do! I needed to vent, I needed advice! And I know I shouldn’t have told Alessia about your health problems, and again, I’m so sorry!”

Ann looked down and cleared her throat. Her hands went on her hips. “I don’t want people feeling entitled to know my issues. People ask why I was in the hospital and then I end up having to share my entire history with what I can and can’t eat. Other people get confused and ask even more questions, and because it’s not something like cancer or an eating disorder, they don’t realize how invasive it gets. I get robbed of that privacy every time I’m at a restaurant with friends. I almost always end up being looked at like a sick person and I’m so fucking tired of it! So again, privacy is important!”

As if he couldn’t feel any worse. Shawn knew he was one of those people who asked a lot of questions back in the day. It was all out of curiosity, wanting to get to know the girl he was dating. Had he known she felt this way…

“I didn’t think of it that way,” he said after a moment. “I know you want to keep some things under wraps, I get that. But this relationship? That’s not just you, it’s us. I get a say in what we share too.”

Ann sighed and went to sit on the couch. She rubbed her eyes, exhausted and frustrated. “It’s like you don’t even hear me.”

“I don’t hear you?” Shawn repeated, chuckling in disbelief. “You don’t like people seeing you as broken or ill, so you choose not to share some things. And that’s also because your privacy gets invaded on a consistent basis. I hear you one hundred percent. The question is, do you hear me? Do you understand what I’m saying and what I want?”

She groaned into her hands. “There’s a part of you that still thinks I’m sick and sad and helpless. You still think I have my stomach cut open and you see it in your sleep, right? Shawn, you need to let that stuff go, you need to process the trauma.”

Her words were so mind boggling that Shawn didn’t know what to say. First of all, she was wrong. If anyone knew how much of a strong, independent lady Annalise Flores was, it was Shawn. She was the type of girl to not hold hands with her boyfriend to show that she was the least dependent person out there. She was the girl who punched guys in the face for harassing her. She was not the girl who was lying in a hospital bed, delirious from her fever. At least, she was trying very hard to separate herself from that.

“I did my processing,” Shawn finally said. “I went to therapy because I was having bad dreams and panic attacks. Now I have the tools to combat them. What about you? Did you process anything?”

Ann looked up, death stare locked on him. A nerve was struck, and Shawn decided it was best not to push the subject anymore.

He put his hands up in surrender. “I’ll go now. I just want you to know I’m always here for you. But if you wanna talk deeper about all this, Callie has an opening for a new client.”

_______

taglist: @normalcyisoverrated-beyou @ilsolee @mendesromano @1-800-khalid-mendussy @kitykatnumber @strangerliaa @iloveshawnieboi @poppyshawn @shawnsunflower @shawnvvmendes @shawmndes @someoneunimportantxx @yourdeflightfullyleft @havethetimeeofyourlifee @wronglanemendes @chillingbythesea @softmendesss @mutuallynotmutual

[chorusfm]

Misterwives

The indie pop band Misterwives just released their sophomore full-length album Connect the Dots. It’s a technicolor shot of adrenaline to the music industry and quite simply one of the most fun listens of the year. Just before their explosive set at Firefly Music Festival, we got a chance to sit down with Misterwives’ Mandy Lee, Jesse Blum, Etienne Bowler, Marc Campbell and Will Hehir, to discuss a variety of topics. In our discussion, we touch upon how some politicians have a tendency to hide immoral action under party politics, why the music industry is a tough place to work, and just how many drummers is too many drummers in a band. We’re here with Misterwives at Firefly Music Festival. You guys just released your second full-length record Connect the Dots last month. I know you guys are excited about that for sure. Now that it’s been about a month have you guys been pleased by the reaction or surprised with the songs fans are gravitating towards? Mandy: Yes to all of the above. We’ve been very pleased with how everyone has receiving the new music. They’ve been far too gracious. And it’s pretty cool that everyone has a favorite song off it. There hasn’t been just one. Every tweet goes through the whole entire list of the album. I know sometimes you’ll see a post like “What song do you want to see on tour?” and the replies are just every song on the album. Mandy: Yeah! It’s really amazing, because you never want to have just like one song and then filler. That’s not how we approach an album. So it’s cool to see people gravitating towards others. So when you went in to start writing Connect The Dots did you go into the writing with a conception of what you wanted it to be in relation to your first record? Or did that start to take shape as you were writing the record? Mandy: We definitely wanted it to be a gradual step up from the previous album. We really pushed ourselves sonically and lyrically to create the best music that we could. But yeah it kind of just happened, where we said “alright, let’s rip it off like a Band Aid. Let’s start writing and see where this takes us.” And naturally the whole concept and theme of Connect the Dots came together from how the music came together. So were there songs on this record that were particularly difficult to write or put together? Songs that perhaps you really wanted to get on the record but weren’t sure if they would make it? Mandy: “My Brother” was one that I had the most difficulty with. I can see how that would be difficult to find a place for in the tracklisting, considering its a step-down in tempo from a lot of the other tracks on the album. Marc: It was. We actually recorded it as one of the first three or four songs. We actually tracked the whole thing and we were like 95% done, and then we went back to other songs. And then it ended up being one of the last songs we finished for the album. Mandy: Yeah, we went back over it in our apartment. We were like, “We have to redo this. It’s just not feeling right.” But I like slow tempo songs. That’s how we started out was doing those kinds of songs. I have always loved those songs from you guys. I saw you guys before the first album came out and remember seeing “Not Your Way” and how the tempo would change around and gravitating towards those songs. Mandy: That’s this guy here. Our drummer. (points to Etienne) Etienne: I like fast. Drummer like fast (everyone laughs) I feel like you’re sitting back there saying “I’m kinda bored by this slow stuff let’s speed it back up again.” Mandy: It’s nice to have a break and collect your thoughts. Will: There is no fast if there is no slow. (everyone laughs again) That’s so poetic. So at the start of a new album cycle, do you guys set goals for yourself for where you want to be by the time you start the next one, or are you just enjoying the ride? Mandy: We’re definitely enjoying the ride, but we’re also setting the bar high. We just want to be as big as we possibly can and grow our fanbase and continue to fulfill this dream. Etienne: Yeah, we’ve put so much energy into the record. And then so much energy into the live show. We just want that to be successful. And lyrically I know you guys definitely pushed yourselves pretty hard on this record. Etienne: We pushed ourselves so hard (points to Mandy and everyone laughs) So I wanted to bring up “Revolution,” because it’s a song that I gravitated towards when I was listening to the record. It’s certainly the most expressly political song on the record, I would say. So was that a song that was written before or after the election? I don’t want to talk politics if you don’t want to. Mandy: Yeah, to me it’s not even politics. It’s human decency and human interaction. Marc: Were you talking about “Oh Love”? I was talking about “Revolution” but I suppose “Oh Love” could apply here as well. Mandy: It applies as well, yeah. But “Revolution” is the more positive outlook on things. It was during the whole election season (that we wrote “Revolution”). There has been so much injustice, and wrongness, and turmoil and negativity. We wanted the message of unity and equality and love to ring louder than all of that. But it is really hard to see all of these things happen. And you feel really powerless. And we’re just lucky we have music to be a vehicle to bring to people together and spread that message. That’s so great. And you know I didn’t want to bring it up and discuss it if you guys didn’t want to because I know it’s difficult. But for me that was a big part of the song. I know for me when the election happened and the Muslim Ban was signed, I personally was in the process of applying to law school. And when I saw there were a dozen lawyers sitting on the ground at JFK filing paperwork to allow refugees and immigrants to enter the country, and I decided I had made the right decision right there. Mandy: Oh wow, good for you. So that’s why that political song, even if it’s just meant as a more unifying rallying cry, still means a lot. Mandy: And it’s so crazy that that is deemed political when it’s really just about being a good person. It’s just the foundations of morals. And it’s sad that in this day and age that’s what counts as politics because things are so fucked up. And people can say, hide their immorality behind the guise of political party. Will: The political veil, yeah. You put it in a different platform and you have the capacity to all of a sudden say it’s for political reasons, so you don’t have to deal with the fact that you’re being a dickhead. Jesse: To me, it makes me really happy to be a part of an organization that is striving for something better and to have a platform where we can do it. When (Mandy) came in with that song it made me really happy. So the other song I wanted to talk to you about for a bit was “Machine.” The first song had a few songs like this as well which were addressing the music industry and the commoditization of success and sort of the assembly line production of music. Has managing that side of the music business gotten easier for you guys as you have had more success? Mandy: Noooo. Nope. Jesse: It’s just the same annoying thing forever. Mandy: It’s just the same nonsense. And you would think if a label could see how far we’ve come. Or there’s people like me where you have to go from one interview right into another interview unfortunately. (laughs) Mandy: Oh, not it’s not that at all. Jesse: That’s not what we’re talking about. You know that, right? We don’t mean you. I know I was just being self-deprecating for a minute. I know you’re discussing the label politics of it all. Mandy: It’s the man. We’re sticking it to the man. Who doesn’t let you be who you are and write your own music and have your own brain and your own thoughts. Who doesn’t let you be expressive and celebrate individuality. Those are the things that are shunned, and you are told you’re not gonna make it, and you need to play by the playbook, and all this crazy shit that really gets your blood boiling. Cause you would think, we’ve done pretty well just being ourselves and you would think they’d see that and say, “maybe there is something good here.” Some people will say, “you need a single for this album,” and you’ll be sitting there saying “I wrote the best 12 songs I could” or whatever. Mandy: Yeah, because you don’t have ten writers on it, that’s considered a gamble for them. Marc/Will: They’re scared of the real. They treat it so much like a business. Where it more comes down to metrics and things. Mandy: Numbers! Instead of it being about connecting to your audience, connecting with people. Mandy: Rather than listening to the music and being like, “Do I like this or not?” instead it’s all about, “well, your numbers don’t show the growth we want.” And who knows, there’s a million different things that could go into why the first week sales aren’t there… And that’s another thing, the first week sales is what decides it now? Mandy: Yep, that is it. You could have millions of people listening on Spotify, but if you don’t sell 100,000 copies in Wal-Mart apparently people care. It’s a bizarre set-up. Marc: It’s insane. Jesse: Thank you, statistics. For nothing. Mandy: Well, Jesse’s just working on getting a hacker. Jesse: I’m gonna be working on modifying the numbers. All you have to do is go into Hits Daily Double and add a few zeroes and you’ll be fine. Jesse: How hard could it be to hack into Billboard? Probably not hard. I wanted to ask Mandy, there’s a lot more love songs on this record than on the first record. Mandy: Yeah (leans in towards her fiancee Etienne) But it’s really them too! (motioning to everyone else in the band) So how has performing these new songs, and being able to perform them next to your fiancee. How has that affected your enjoyment of these new songs? Mandy: Yeah, it’s just been really amazing and fun to be able to perform these songs and he’s playing the drums behind me and we’re a unit. And it’s really not just the two of us, now. It’s also to the crowd too. It’s a love song to everybody. We’re the luckiest people in the world to be able to do this together, and to fulfill our dreams and to be in love. Jesse: It’s very nice to be around that. Mandy: He doesn’t talk much about it, but I talk too much about it, hence why there are so many of those songs. You think you guys are going to play your own wedding? Or how is that going to work. Mandy: Hell no (laughs) Hire another band for that! Mandy: We do want to make it like a music festival though. Live band weddings make all the difference in the world. It’s crazy how much the difference between a DJ and a live band at a wedding makes. Will: Yeah, definitely. Mandy: Oh yeah. Live music is incomparable. I have one more silly question for you. I’m a big fantasy football. I see the looks on your faces already so I’m not going to ask you about sports. Will: Thank God. There’s not always a big overlap between sports and music, I get it. But I will ask you, we used to do this thing on our site called the Fantasy Band Draft, where you pick a guitarist, bassist, drummer and singer to form a fantasy supergroup to like play this festival or whatever. Any bands out there. Who would you pick? Mandy: Okay on the drums… Jesse: We could do either Chris Dave or Dave Grohl. Someone with the name Dave. A lot of people do pick Dave Grohl. Marc: Or Taylor Hawkins. You could just have Dave Grohl and Taylor Hawkins. Mandy: 2 drummers! Dave Grohl and Taylor Hawkins. We already know they have good chemistry with one another. Mandy: We’ll definitely have Chance The Rapper. For sure. He was amazing last night. Marc: I feel like Flea has to be on bass? Mandy: Is it just Chili Peppers all around? Etienne: I know cause I would really want John Frusciante. It’s too bad you guys were in Carrboro last night because Chance blew it out of the park here. It was until like 2 AM. Mandy: I know. It’s insane. Hmm, for singers, we should pick someone alive. Obviously, Prince or Michael Jackson would be great, but… Jesse: I was thinking like an a capella group with like Prince and Michael Jackson, and just all vocals. Etienne: We would put Prince on guitar too. Mandy: James Murphy, on percussion. I saw him this summer too, it was incredible. Marc: That’s good. He’s a genius. Mandy: Who else? Marc: I think we should go back to Chris Dave on drums. Jesse: So we’re having three drummers? Three drummers, seven singers. Mandy: No we need a keys player, synths? Marc: Kenny Kirkland? Jesse: I don’t know. All I can think of is like fusion guys. Mandy: I know, I know. Jesse: No one who would just want to be in the background just playing. Marc: How about the guy in Spinal Tap (Viv Savage), for comedic relief. Mandy: And Beyonce, just because she’s Beyonce. Jesse: We need to get Beyonce. Mandy: She’s the lead singer. For those following along at home that means Misterwives’ Fantasy Band Roster is as follows: * Chris Dave – Drums * Dave Grohl – Drums * Taylor Hawkins – Drums * James Murphy – Percussion * Flea – Bass * John Frusciante – Guitar * Viv Savage – Keyboards * Prince – Guitar/Vocals * Chance the Rapper – Vocals * Michael Jackson – Vocals * Beyonce – Lead Vocals So I have one final question for you, that I forgot to ask before. I know we were just talking about Chance the Rapper. Last year, you guys released the “Same Drugs” cover, and it was one of my favorite things that came out last year. Are there any plans to do another cover maybe in a different or the same genre for this album cycle? Mandy: We have a cover coming out in like a week actually. We recorded it with Spotify. Etienne: You will have to check Spotify to find out what song we covered. I would say it definitely pushed us. Mandy is very impressive on this one. Marc: It’s really a wild ride. Jesse: One could say it’s the wildest of rides. Thank you so much for taking the time to chat with us. Misterwives are on tour now supporting their new album, which you can listen to on Apple Music or Spotify. For more tour dates and information, you can visit their website. --- Please consider supporting us so we can keep bringing you stories like this one. ◎ https://chorus.fm/interviews/misterwives/

[jessicakehoe]

Self-Isolation Diary: A Day in the Life of Indigenous Activist Sarain Fox

We’re officially in Month 3 of self-isolation with an uncertain road ahead but for some much-needed inspiration, FASHION is reaching out to some of our favourite Canadians to get a peek into how they’re living their lives in lockdown (remember: #StayHomeSaveLives). Each week, keep an eye out for new self-isolation diaries from actors, designers, influencers and artists who are riding this uncertain time out with us.

Sarain Fox, Indigenous artist and activist

I’ve been isolating in rural Ontario for over eight weeks now. This felt like the most natural place for me to isolate. I need to be close to the land, where I can be with the trees and the birds. Before Mother’s Day, the cedars were still dancing next to wintered grey and brown poplars. I see resilience in the landscape. It’s barely warm enough for us to be outside, but flowers are starting to come to up. Spring is when new life is around us.

Quarantine for me has been about facing my own rhythm. A lot of us have spent our entire lives on someone else’s rhythm, and we haven’t had a chance to get to know ourselves. One of the greatest gifts I was given as a young person was a lot of alone time. My mom taught me to be alone with myself, to do things like fasting, and that’s something a lot of people don’t get to do.

I’ve settled into my routine, but it wouldn’t have been possible without these few things: my partner Tara, a connection to my community, the land, my cats Wagoosh and Semonce, the sun-kissed wind and my go-to Canada Goose outerwear (especially during these last-ditch-winter-polar-vortex conditions). I’ve also been keeping a few practices that continue to help me find peace—and even joy—during the ups and downs of life in self-isolation.

Greeting the Day with Intention:

I’ve made it a priority to greet each day with an intention. First thing I take a sip of water and offer gratitude for life itself. My mornings are personal check-in time. I make a point of rising with the sun every day and taking in the real beauty of the morning. This is when I journal, scroll through Instagram and do my yoga. It’s a quiet and slow time to be with myself.

View this post on Instagram

I rise every morning with the sun. There’s a quiet beauty to the morning, and I use that time to check in with myself. Take a few moments for yourself as I lead you through my morning yoga routine.

A post shared by Sarain Fox (@sarainfox) on May 7, 2020 at 7:43am PDT

Fuelling My Mind and Body:

I’ve been making sure that I’m making food and eating what’s good for my body and my mind. It is mishkiki (medicine). I make a mean French press – and I have always loved coffee. I like a Bulletproof first thing – a mix of grass-fed butter, MCT oil, expresso and coconut milk. I grew up without most dairy, gluten, sugar or “junk food.” As an adult, I have focused on listening to my body. I like to eat like my ancestors did, harvesting in season and forging from the land. Right now, I am excited for fiddleheads. And soon it’ll be strawberry season. This time of year, food is all about fresh goodness coming right from my front yard.

Listening to Music of Resilience:

I’ve been listening to a lot of records (I am an avid vinyl collector) and even created a playlist titled ‘Isolation Land’ on Spotify. It is full of songs of resilience inspired by spring and the current state of the world. I have songs from Digging Roots, Nao, Galt MacDermot and Jesse Ed Davis on the list. I created it to move you beyond the four walls where you feel confined. I usually put it on when I’m tinkering around the house or want to be transported to a different place. I love how music can do that.

View this post on Instagram

I created a playlist 🎧✊🏽 . They are songs of resilience – inspired by spring and the current state of the world. ISOLATION LAND was created to move you beyond the four walls where you feel contained 👆🏽Link in bio 🎧 . . . 📸 by @thunderbarnes

A post shared by Sarain Fox (@sarainfox) on May 8, 2020 at 4:53pm PDT

Reading and Watching:

With the slower days, I’ve been so grateful to be able to get back to reading. Books are a powerful way to let go of stale patterns of thought, especially when I’m looking for a perspective that’s outside of mine. Sometimes I need a journey to understand new lessons or someone else’s human experience. The books I’m currently reading are Moon of the Crusted Snow by Waubgeshig Rice, From the Ashes by Jesse Thistle and Starlight by Richard Wagamese.

When I’m in the mood to binge on something, I tend to go back and forth between movies and shows; guilty pleasures and documentaries. The best is when they are both. My favourites currently are: Blood Quantum, The Last Dance, The Grizzlies, Rumble and Smoke Signals to name a few.

Connecting with the Land:

The land is a huge part of my being and my Anishinaabe heritage. Winter leaves behind old life as protection for new life, so Spring is about tending and seeing where the land wants to grow. I’m starting to get my hands in the soil and preparing the ground for planting. I’m gathering cedar to boil for tea and cedar water for cleaning or having a bath in—it’s traditionally lung medicine and has antimicrobial properties. I believe that we’re inherently part of the land, and that, if we allow ourselves to see it, we’re always being held and nurtured by it. It’s my connection to the land helps me remember that I’m not isolated or disconnected. Instead, I’m part of an ever-present universe that is intricate and constantly evolving to keep us alive. As an Indigenous person, gratitude isn’t just about acknowledging the things I have, it is also about caring for the people who’ve made it possible for me to be here. For me, a spiritual practice is making sure those around me have what they need. I’m doing some distant rounds for the elders in my life, dropping off things they love and I know will make them smile.

View this post on Instagram

I stay home for her. For all those who fought so hard for us to be here. To reclaim. To overcome. Mama. I ❤️ U.

A post shared by Sarain Fox (@sarainfox) on Apr 7, 2020 at 8:27am PDT

Staying Connected from Afar:

When I’m not working, I usually actively try to put my device away. Now, I’m so grateful for technology! I’m staying grounded by creating a rhythm with my friends where we treat our virtual check-ins like they’re real life. If I’m hopping on a Zoom with my sisters, it’s an unmovable date, just like if I were showing up at their house.

Letting Nature Entertain Me:

I’ve been taking my meditation practice into the evenings. When I see the light changing, I stop everything I’m doing and go watch the sun go down. The sky puts on this giant show for us in the evenings, and it feels like a personal drive-in movie theatre experience every time. My mom and I have always gone storm fishing (that’s when you chase storms to experience their beauty). The spring thunders light up the sky with dances of light crashing to the earth. Watching the storms roll across my fields is one of my favourite meditations right now. As the sun dims, I zip on something warm like my Canada Goose vest or my lightweight down jacket to layer up.

Then I gather kindling and make a fire. I think of all my friends and kin together having the same fire, just in different places.

The post Self-Isolation Diary: A Day in the Life of Indigenous Activist Sarain Fox appeared first on FASHION Magazine.

Self-Isolation Diary: A Day in the Life of Indigenous Activist Sarain Fox published first on https://borboletabags.tumblr.com/