#but it totally latched on to bretts specific feelings

[simplyender]

wow, i've been thinking the same thing! what's to say brett doesnt still have the nostalgia max powers? i mean, it could just be that he got it out of his system, since he was essentially just tripping on a mega-chemtrail/drug-overdose, and trips dont last forever, not to mention that we saw him dispel those powers once reagan snapped him out of it.

that being said i think it would be super cool if he still had said powers in him, so if this hypothetical scenario were true, chances are:

A: he cant tap into said powers because hes repressing them, and could also potentially be repressing his memories of the nostalgia max freakout event as a whole.

or B: since it all clearly came from a place of serious emotions and pain, and the fact that he was already slipping at that point (actively deciding to drug your friends into staying in the 80s with you is not cool, bro!), he could just not be able to access them without a high amount of environmental stressors, think of it like a hulk scenario, only it takes way more than just anger to set his powers off. both reasons are not mutually exclusive btw. in fact it might outright be both of them.

Ok for those who've watched Inside Job on Netflix, did Brett ever lose his 80's powers??? Like can he just use them but never brings it up ever again? Because it's never told THAT HE LOSES THEM???

[salvatoreschool]

Legacies: “Screw Endgame” Writers Preview The Episode

Executive Producer Brett Matthews and Thomas Brandon are the writers of tonight’s game-changer episode of Legacies airing at 9PM ET/PT on The CW and both writers hopped on the phone with KSiteTV yesterday to preview this story which sees Hope and Lizzie teaming up in a very Eighties-like setting at the same time a dance is happening with a similar look.

“Screw Endgame” is the title of this one, and it picks up with Lizzie (Jenny Boyd) now being one of the only people who remembers everything about Hope (Danielle Rose Russell). Some minor spoilers for tonight’s show can be found within; you have been warned! A post-mortem discussing more spoilery topics will be up after tonight’s show has aired.

On to the interview!

KSITETV’s CRAIG BYRNE: Can you talk about the choice in the writers’ room to make Lizzie the first person to remember Hope?

BRETT MATTHEWS: Honestly, it wasn’t a choice. It was one of those moments where it was just our natural instinct and on an undeniable gut level, but it’s like when you put your writer hat on and you go, “well, who’s the best person?”

It’s her, because who is in the worst situation?

Obviously Lizzie’s blood allegiance is to Josie — they’re literally twins. Hope Mikaelson is her frenemy at best leading into this episode, so Lizzie is just obviously the ideal person to be put into the situation because it is the stuff of great drama.

THOMAS BRANDON: The dramatic fun of it is Lizzie has such a hard time keeping a secret. She’s such a declarative character; she just tells everyone how she’s feeling at all times. So the idea of giving her a secret, to be the only one in the world that knew that Hope was back and having to hold that from everybody, just seemed like it would lead to some great episodes, and it’s certainly something she will struggle within the next episode. “How do I keep this secret, the biggest secret of all time?”

What can you preview about the Hope and Lizzie reunion, for the people who haven’t seen the episode yet?

THOMAS BRANDON:

What we discover is after the events of Episode 4 where Lizzie remembers who she is, Lizzie and Hope are thrown together and working together to solve a problem that I don’t want to spoil. The problem demands that they fight the monster before they can actually talk about everything that’s happened. Fighting the monster is their therapy, and it’s their way to get through all the choices that have been made where Hope came back and chose not to tell everybody.

BRETT MATTHEWS: For Lizzie, it’s like, they are in a life or death situation and have to rely on each other, but she wants to know the fundamental question of the season up to this point, which is why. “Why didn’t you tell us you were back?” That’s going to be the answer she is trying to find, even as they’re trying to survive the monster of the week.

THOMAS BRANDON: The really interesting journey for Lizzie will be once she goes through this experience with Hope.

What if Lizzie, at the end, kind of gets it?

What if Lizzie understands why Hope did what she did, and what if going forward, they decided to keep it secret, and how will that go?

Can you talk about how then 1980s settings came up when breaking this episode?

BRETT MATTHEWS: Yeah, I mean, that’s just where Thomas and I come from. We knew we wanted to do a decade dance. We’ve been trying to do one for two seasons now, because it’s a tie to our past and sort of thematic of it being tied to the show’s past. I’ve probably written a handful of those over the years of Vampire Diaries.

It’s sort of a tie to our pasts. We’re products that generation. We saw Star Wars, we wanted to do what we do for a living as a result, and that’s just where our brains go when it comes to nostalgia, when it comes to specificity, when it comes to a a decade, we really wanted to explore this very vibrant time in our minds.

Our cast, mind you, has no idea what the Eighties were. That’s sort of the fun of it, to view it through that lens. I think our director Barbara Brown, and our editor, Evan Warner, latched on to a lot of those same elements, being products of that same generation.

It just gave the whole episode a wonderful specificity, and a zeal and a passion that I think was the right fit for us. And it’s also the other stuff of Legacies. It’s the ridiculous wardrobe and the jaw dropping soundtrack. It’s all the great things, and let’s be honest, it was about seeing Matt Davis in an Indiana Jones costume. That’s really all that mattered to us as writers.

When writing an episode like this, were any of the song choices in the script, or was that all picked later?

THOMAS BRANDON: I don’t think any of the song choices were in the script, but we talked extensively with our director because some of the time, you’re going to take us in post, but some of the time if there’s choreographed dancing, or if there are camera moves that are being tied to certain beats or rhythms, you need to know in advance what those are going to be so the actors and the camera people can all practice.

So, it was a little mixture of both. We have a phenomenal music supervisor, Chris Moliere, who got us a list of over 200 songs, both originals and covers. It’s kind of a wacky thing to listen to like four covers of the same song in a row, hearing four different takes on it. And it was about us finding the surprising version. You don’t normally necessarily think of Take On Me as a romantic song, but you find the romantic cover of it.

BRETT MATTHEWS: Chris Moliere is really one of the best in the business at what he does. He’s exceptional. You think of all of the great song placements we’ve had over the near decade of doing this together, and it’s just amazing.

Do you think relationships in life are now less complicated for Hope, since very few people remember their histories with her?

BRETT MATTHEWS: I think I think the problem is, she remembers her history with that. And I don’t know, once that elephant exists in the room, that anything’s easy. I think in some ways, actually, it might be a lot harder.

Because, you know, friendships, relationships, ups and downs, you at least have that mutual history, and she’s in a really terrible position in the season where the history is one sided, and the burden is hers to bear alone.

So if anything, I would say it’s more difficult.

What can you tell us about what Sebastian is up to and how MG and Kaleb factor into that?

BRETT MATTHEWS: This episode gets to the bottom of exactly what kind of vampire Sebastian is. He’s a vampire from sort of the Vampire Diaries universe set in the world of Legacies, and what does that mean? Kaleb and MG are really the perfect spirit guides to usher a Gothic vampire into the modern woke world of vampires that a Legacies vampire exists in.

Sebastian is somebody who would be really comfortable having a beer with Damon Salvatore. MG and Kaleb live a very different lifestyle as vampires. It really is an opportunity for sort of self examination and reflection on some of the stories we’ve told in the past and in the same universe, but in a totally different palette. The world has changed so much in the short time between The Vampire Diaries and Legacies that Sebastian really is a vehicle for us to explore all those issues, and what that means.

THOMAS BRANDON: The best vampire to to create that tension in that and that contrast with MG. MG has definitely been the vampire who’s the most evolved, and who wants to change the stigma of what vampires are, and to change the definition of what vampires could be, and here comes this black-clad Gothic vampire straight out of another show there to kind of reinforce stereotypes.

It’s almost like MG’s worried that Sebastian’s out here making us all look bad. So he’s struggling not just with Sebastian, who’s into the girl he’s into, but he’s struggling with the fact that Sebastian represents a point of view that MG is trying to leave behind.

What has been your favorite part of Legacies Season 2 so far?

BRETT MATTHEWS: For me, the show is a joy. It’s about good things, and friendship, and the occasional tragedy. But what I love the most about this show is that if you have a good idea, we can do it. The show is elastic in all the best ways. It’s lighter, it’s fun. The show is exactly what I want it to be, and so that’s one of the joys.

Julie [Plec] has really created an elastic sandbox, and it’s really fun. I love the monsters. I love the characters. I love what the show is saying about the world. I think it would be harder for Thomas and I to illuminate things we don’t like about it.

THOMAS BRANDON: This year, it’s been the cast. I thought the cast was really good in Season 1, and somehow, they stepped up for Season 2. I’ve seen them do some really extraordinary work, especially when you get to be on set.

I’ve watched them approach a scene, and they approach it so thoughtfully. The greatest joy you can ever have with a writer is to write a line and then have an actor come up and deliver it in a way that even better than what was in your head. You feel seen and protected and saved as a writer. It’s like, “oh, thank you. You took something that was an idea and you actually made it real and lived in, and to the point where you forgot that you wrote it.”

BRETT MATTHEWS: It’s the cast; it’s the crew. It is the greatest joy for a writer. You write something, you put your guts on a page, and then people come along, understand it, and make it better. That’s really been the joy. I’d [also[ say that’s the joy of Season 2 is we’re not finding it anymore. We know what the show is. The actors know who the characters are. The directors know how the show looks and moves and so hopefully, we’re just another year better at it. I feel that we are, and I certainly hope our fans feel the same.

I feel very strongly about Season 2.

I think if you liked Season 1, you’ll love Season 2. That’s always the goal; to just get better every year.

You can find a trailer for tonight’s Legacies episode “Screw Endgame” below; some preview images can be found here. Our thanks to Brett Matthews and Thomas Brandon for taking the time to do this interview!

[officialthiamlibrary]

Welcome to another profile on Behind the Screens, giving you personal insight on who your favorite creators are and what they do when they aren’t wowing you with their creative ability.

Hiya! I’m popping out of my writing cave to share with you the greatness of another artist, Glitter-cake20, also known as Sammy.  You’ve probably seen her awe-inspiring manips, gifs, incorrect quotes, and stories floating around your dashboard. In our talk, she shares her #1 guilty pleasure ship, creates her optimal Teen Wolf Puppy Pack spin-off, and lets us in her creative process.

Sammy! Why don’t we start off simple? Tell us about yourself. The catch: the word count is either to or less than the number of letters in your two favorite Teen Wolf episode names. (ex. Raving + Galvanize = 19)

Memory Found + Smoke and Mirrors = 25

I’m really lazy. I like reading. I’m great at killing zombies on Xbox. I have blood in my coffee stream. I have resting bitch face. 

Ooh, what makes these two your favorite?

Memory Found because i feel like that is really where Theo learned to be selfless. He fought with Liam knowing he could get killed or taken, and then later he literally sacrificed himself for a pack that wanted him dead.

Smoke and Mirrors - the entire Mexico trip was great but the part that really stood out in Smoke and Mirrors was when Berserker Scott had Liam pinned to the wall and Liam said “Scott listen! You’re not a monster, you’re a werewolf like me” which parallels to earlier in Season 4 when Scott had said that same thing to Liam. It was just beautiful because it showed how Liam had accepted himself as a werewolf.  Also, Derek evolving was just wow!

And how did you come to the Thiam fandom? What about them drew you in?

You know, I had just created a twitter account and I was just following few accounts for Teen Wolf, kind of just bopping along with all the other popular ships, and then someone made a post about “OMG what was THAT” and I opened the video and it was Theo and Liam making glorious eye contact, and I was never the same again.

What drew me in the most was that Theo was so vulnerable when Liam brought him back. He was once such a badass and now he was suddenly latched on to Liam - just made my heart melt. And Liam is my boy, but he made me so angry when he was mean to Theo! Like no boo, that’s not how Scott raised you!

Lately, there’s been exclamations from our pack about Thiam bleeding into their real lives (like, seeing their relationship in every movie/song or experiencing story plots in real life, etc.), have you felt this sensation recently? If so, in what ways?

Yes!  I was sitting at a coffee shop writing the other day, and this adorable couple walked in. My brain immediately went “That’s Theo and that’s Liam” And I’m like, what is actually wrong with me? And literally every epic movie quote is now about Thiam, I’ve actually done a bunch of edits about that, which I will share for the Thiam Movie Fest.

Omg! That totally happens to me all the time, everywhere!! Since you see Thiam in anything, would you say they’re your #1 guilty pleasure ship? If not, what are your guilty pleasure ships, couples where you don’t care who knew or who disagreed, you ship them regardless?

Oh gosh I’ve had many. Stalia was one.  I really liked the dynamic, in the same breath I was also pining for Stydia. I loved Jethan when that teaser came out.  Briam, although I don’t think anyone would disagree.  Brett and Mason!  And even when Scott and Allison broke up I was like, no but Scallison.  I literally ship anything. 

If you could build the ultimate paintball/laser tag team from any five characters on Teen Wolf, who’d be on your team and why? Twist: now, choose one Teen Wolf villain who’d be your secret weapon, provided they don’t double-cross you first, mwhahaha. 

Mmm okay…(this actually makes me excited!) So for paintball, first of all I’d choose Corey for his ability to disappear and strike from a position unknown to our opponents. Then I would pick Theo, he’s proven to be quite strategic and cunning in mapping out a plan! Peter, because he just no objection to kicking ass, any time any place. Kira, because she can divert the paintballs with her sword (and yes in my mind they would allow her to take the sword onto the field, shh). Braeden, because she’s just a total badass and I just love her. And for my secret weapon I would choose Jackson so he can paralyze the opposing team with his Kanima venom!! Ha!

Jackson would be a total knockout secret weapon. The game would be over in seconds lol! Let’s jump into your works. Like @da-smiley99​, our artist last week, you also create a little bit of it all: drabbles, gifs, manips, and incorrect quotes. For you, which would you say is your favorite art form? How do you balance creating them all? 

I really love doing the incorrect quotes, they are fun and I enjoy looking for gifs to match!

Whatever inspiration hits first is what I will do, most of the time its manips/aesthetics that I do for other writer’s work. I love appreciating and promoting what people have created because I know the effort that goes into it. There are still so many works I would like to do an edit for!

If your creative process for these pieces was a person, describe him or her to us. What do they do? Wear? Listen to? How do they handle conflict?

She’s running around in a pink fur coat, stilettos, champagne in hand, chocolates stuffed in her cheek yelling “OH MY GOD!” at everything. I imagine her in a clothing store, the clothes being ideas, and she’s just grabbing everything pilling it onto her arm in a heap, eventually losing her balance and falling over. So when the shop assistant (my family) is like “Mam, you need to calm the hell down” she just runs to the next store, her champagne spilling as she wobbles down the sidewalk in the way-too-high stilettos. She probably listens to Taylor Swift in her pink drop top.

And what’s hers (and your) writing Kryptonite? How do you two battle it?

With regards to writing -I come up with the most amazing and original idea for a story and I manage to write one mind blowing paragraph and then I’m stuck.  That’s why I take so long to create a story, it just takes me forever to get inspired again.  I have a few WIP’s and I don’t know what to do with them!

Creating comes pretty easy and I haven’t had many hiccups while editing. I just suck at making video edits and I honestly wish I was better at it because I have so many ideas! I usually fight writer's block with generous amounts of wine.

If you did become that video-making mastermind, which one of those ideas would you explore first?

I always wanted to do an AU vid of Thiam just living life you know. Id also like to do a “trailer” for these amazing fics that’s been written, kind of like what was done for Airplanes!

I sense a perfect opportunity to practice your videographer skills, mentally, of course! Say you were the Jeff Davis of the Puppy Pack Teen Wolf Spin-Off. Describe your very first and last scene of the pilot episode? How would you put your personal touches on those two scenes? 

Personal Touches: A-class lighting because we suffered enough with the ever loving darkness of Teen Wolf.  I’d like to see the characters develop more of a personal style, Liam would probably wear more ‘jock’ outfits as he plays varsity lacrosse now. I’d love to put Theo in shorts for a change, maybe an early morning kitchen scene where he is wearing boxer shorts…okay I’m getting distracted.

Eeek!  Okay so, the Opening scene would be Theo, Liam and Alec running from hunters, Theo has Liam by the arm, he pushes Liam and Alec into his truck and ducks in behind them. They speed off. Then he starts yelling at Liam “Are you crazy, Li?! I’m getting real tired of saving you!” (que fandom freaking because he is calling him “Li” now) and then at Alec “And you! What the hell did we tell you about sneaking out with Liam!?” Liam and Alec are just out of breath trying not to  laugh at Theo. Theo calls Mason to confirm that they are fine.

Closing scene: Liam flops down on the couch in the McCall house, next to Theo (because that’s where he is staying now) “So, uh, thanks for coming to get us today”. “You’re an idiot” but Theo smiles. “How did you find me anyway?” Liam is twiddling his thumbs, “Tracked your scent” Theo gets up abruptly and leaves. Yup it’s going to be a slow burn!

Oooh, and which TW characters would you bring back as cameos or minor characters?

Frikken Danny! I feel like the guy deserved better. So definitely Danny.  I’d make him the supernatural privy teacher at the high school. Brett would also come back -as a ghost haunting Liam, especially when Li gets angry then Brett would just be in the corner jabbing insults at him and the pack would look at him like he’s crazy when he yells at the wall to shut up. Scott would make regular appearances. Deaton, Argent and Melissa would be regulars, and I think a guest appearance by Jackson because for some reason they are going to need a vile of his Kanima venom. Kira’s going to come looking for her sword at one point. And Isaac shows up with Scott a few times.

I agree with you about Danny; we needed more of him! We should petition to get you in the writer’s room because I need your ideas to happen!! 

How about gifs/manips specifically? Where does your inspiration for those stem from?

I would think of a scene that I really would have loved to happen and then I try to match it as best I can using existing material. Sometimes i would just be scrolling through gifs and I’d be like “oh wait! This with this is perfect!”

Ooh, up for a quick demonstration? Let’s pick one of your favorite fanfiction scenes lately. Which images/thought processes would stick out to you? Any specific gifs come to mind?

So let’s take Airplanes 28 for example. The scene where Liam is weighing up all his options about how to deal with his feelings and Theo asks what his problem is.  I would use the scene from S6 in the locker room where Liam is punching the locker, it had a few different shots of Liam being frustrated. For Theo’s part I’d use the scene form 6x16 where he actually says ‘what is wrong with you”. Then I just use the app to edit and merge them and voila.

That’s pretty neat. I didn’t even know you could use apps to mash gifs together! If someone wanted to get started with creating manips/gifs, what advice/steps would you give them?

If you’re doing it from your phone, like me, you have to firstly find the right gif app preferably one that does video to gif and vice versa. There are a few that work really well, so hit me up if you want more detail!  I’m also still learning so if anyone has any suggestions let me know.

We’ve chatted about your art for Thiam. Do you also create outside of the Thiam fandom? Original Fiction/Artwork? Other Fandoms?

I used to write and draw when I was younger, the Thiam fandom actually got me back into all of that! I don’t have any of my earlier writing works anymore but I still have drawings.

Aww, can you remember what you liked to write back then?

It was all fictional stories, mostly horrors! I loved writing scary stories, short or long and I would sometimes freak myself out a bit, especially late at night. I remember the one was about a guy whose car ‘broke down’ on a deserted road and he went looking for help at an old farmhouse and couldn't figure out why the people were so weird towards him, so after a few days he left, walking back down the road and he came across his car completely wrecked, his dead body hanging halfway out the door...he was a ghost haha.

Looking ahead, what’s one piece you’re working on that you’re dying for the pack to see?  

Yes! This is a snipped of the AU I’m doing for the Movie fest:

-“That’s him,” Corey said nodding in Theo’s direction “that’s the Judo champ”,

By the time Liam realised he had been staring it was too late, Theo’s head was tilted to the side, an amused grin spread across his face as he looked down slowly at this abdomen and then back up at Liam. There was no reason for Liam to deny that Theo Raeken was gorgeous, that he looked like a demigod in the golden light of the street lamps, but this was not the time for these kinds of thoughts. ‘Get it together Liam’, he shook his head as if to rid his mind of Judo Boy.-

I will also attempt some manips for this piece!

Ooh, intriguing. How dare you stop there! I guess we’ll just have to wait until next week, smh. One final anecdote before we wrap up?

Characters often find themselves in situations they aren’t sure they can get themselves out of. When was the last time you found yourself in situation like that and what did you do?

The PA of our department at work tried to sell me sex toys from this ridiculously expensive catalogue and tried to make me have a sex toy party for my birthday because she would get a free gift and commission for it. First I said, but my friends and family ain’t about that life, and she’s like “No I’ll just invite all my friends it's fine” (to my birthday?? Okay bih). So then I said I’ll think about it hoping she’d forget. She didn’t.  Eventually I told her that I’m not doing anything for my birthday but thanks.

Oh no, she didn’t! It was your birthday smh. You’re stronger than me! Not only would she convince me to throw the party, I’d have bought at least  two things from that freaking catalogue haha! Well, we’re coming to an end, but first, what’s next for you? Both in life and in the creation world? 

Career wise I’d like to do a few courses, and really start going into the direction of what I really love, which is anything creative, instead of just doing a 9-5 to pay bills, you know?  So I’m going to look for a way to bring these two worlds together so that I can always do what I love. Fandom wise, I really want to do more writing, explore different characters and ships!

And, we’ll be over here, looking forward to more of your writing! Finally, Is there anything else you’d like to say? The floor is all yours. Dance away!

I hardly get to writing my own ideas so I’m reluctant to say that I'll take prompts for fics and frankly I take so long to write that it will be disappointing, however, if someone has a scenario/idea for an incorrect quote, manip or aesthetic requests, I’m all for it! I would love to do it! Other than that i just want to thank this entire fandom, you guys are keeping this ship sailing and its beautiful! Keep doing what you’re doing!

Aww, thank YOU for writing, creating, and giving us a lens into your world! I’ll be looking forward to the day you gift us with all the Thiam videos haha. From there, we give you Glitter-cake20. 

As always, you can keep the conversation going; respond to any of her thoughts, ask more questions, send a prompt, or simply swing by for a chat with Sammy anytime. To dive into her works, check out her Tumblr. You can also find her on instagram!

Tumblr: Glitter-cake20

Ask Box: glitter-cake20

Instagram: @spraybitch_chrisberry

That’s all for now, so stay warm, amused, and tuned for next week’s Movie AU edition with @underthegallowws.

Over and Out <3 

Get involved in the Behind the Screen series! Have a Thiam Creator you fan over, from any platform (AO3, Tumblr, Wattpad, Instagram, FFN, etc). Please send us their names. Bonus points if you include any questions you’re dying to ask them. Likewise, if you as the creator, would like to be a part of the Behind the Screens series, give us a shout too! We’d love to get to know you, as well.

[dustedmagazine]

Five Records That Matter

A few weeks ago, when we decided to try to find a few new writers, we asked applicants to list five records that mattered to them.  That was all the instruction we gave, purposely open ended.  Not the best records.  Not the most important records.  Just the ones that mattered to the person making the list.  It was mostly to find out whether people liked drone or hardcore, DIY garage or free-jazz, you know, to get a handle on new writers, where they were coming from and what they listened to.  There was no right or wrong answer (well, okay, maybe there were some wrong answers but nobody sent us any).  

We realized, though, that it’s sort of impossible — and also kind of fun — to pick just five records that matter.  We know this now, because most of us went through the exercise ourselves. We defined “matter” in different ways, some of us opting for personal relevance, others emphasizing objective quality, some looking back over their whole listening lives and others confining the search to specific time periods.  And then, because it was so much fun, we decided to share the results with you. Contributors include Jason Bivins, Joseph Burnett, Justin Cober-Lake, Ben Donnelly, Mason Jones, Jennifer Kelly, Brett Marion, Ian Mathers, Eric McDowell, Bill Meyer, Lucas Schleicher and Derek Taylor.  And by the way, you may notice a couple of unfamiliar names in there, because it turned out that asking for five records that matter is a pretty good way of finding new Dusted writers.  

Jason Bivins

Bad Brains — Rock for Light

It’s genuinely difficult for me to pick just one album from the vast worlds of “hardcore” and/or “metal” (not that I need just one, but the albums below are kinda too crucial, so that’s my logic today). And I could easily see myself going for, say, Sister or Locust Abortion Technician or something (maybe even something really goth-y from my very early adolescence). But I’m from D.C. and this is probably, soup to nuts, the album that still captures my attention in this idiom. The Brains were obviously fierce and fast, and H.R. was just bonkers live, but to me it was their astonishing instrumental technique and facility that made these tunes so righteous (although it’s got to be the LP mix, not that CD mix with too much reverb and Dr. Know’s solos buried away).  

King Crimson — Red

In many ways the perfect balance of smart, proggy music with serious heaviness. Stripped down power trio Crimson, minimalist by their standards, with my first hearing of several key English improvisers to boot. Not a massive fan of Wetton’s vocals usually (RIP) but they really work here. Twisty, turny rhythms. Banging riffs. And mind-scrambling repetition, especially on the concluding, very emotional “Starless” (which is responsible for one of the peak aesthetic experiences of my life, as I heard it for the first time when I was reading the final pages of Moby-Dick for the first time — intense!).

 Miles Davis — Live Evil

When I first started getting into jazz music, very little about the Miles of Kind of Blue (still colossally overrated) or Birth of the Cool moved me that much. But this freaked-out, expansive epic — which I heard passed around on third-generation tapes, long before the Columbia U.S. reissues — seemed like a document from some secret electric cult captured at the moment of full ecstatic transport. What gets me going still is the kinetic propulsion of DeJohnette here, that loose kick drum style perfectly goosing things along. Deep funk, odd percussion, moments of witchy noise, and John McLaughlin in supreme interstellar overdrive. Holy fucking grail.

 John Coltrane — Live at the Village Vanguard

In my freshman year of college I acquired a cassette containing the original release plus the two live tracks from “Impressions,” though of course I also love the 4-disc edition that Impulse put out in the 1990s. As much as I loved almost all the records Coltrane recorded during this period, there was something the extended, dark intensity of these performances — and Dolphy was so key to this, naturally — that seemed otherworldly and deeply organic at the same time. Yes, there was the absolutely riveting playing, but the incessant throb of “India,” the gallop of “Chasin’ the Trane,” the incredible emotionality of “Spiritual” — this was one of those records that converted me not just to a Coltrane fanatic but a full-on jazz nerd.

 AMM — Laminal

The deep dive into slabs of marvelous pure sound. Before I got this essential 3-disc portrait of AMM live during different periods, I had The Nameless Uncarved Block and maybe one other disc, which I dug. I was, in particular, transfixed by the range of textural contrasts that were central to AMM in its many iterations. But the 1982 concert at the Great Hall at Goldsmith’s College was where — right as Keith Rowe dialed up “Bang a Gong Get It On” atop his buzz saw guitar — the aesthetic wizardry clicked in for me.

Joseph Burnett

Neil Young — On the Beach

Tonight's the Night (and Lou Reed's Berlin) introduced me to the idea of a mainstream artist "heading for the ditch" but I didn't properly "get it" until I heard On the Beach with its songs of death, murder and depression. I still can't decide which Young album is my favorite, but my love affair with the dark side of popular music started here.

Fairport Convention — Liege and Lief

I never had much interest in the culture of my home country until I tuned in to this. There are many UK folk albums that come close in their own way, but nothing quite reaches Liege and Lief.

Albert Ayler — Spiritual Unity

Miles introduced me to jazz, 'Trane made me love it, Ayler made me realize how far ahead of its time it can be.

Throbbing Gristle — The Second Annual Report

My introduction to noise, really, and the concept of non-musical elements being used in music.

Tony Conrad and Faust — Outside the Dream Syndicate

Through which I fell in love with both minimalism and (along with the first Neu! and Cluster albums) krautrock. Conrad's passing last year left me more bereft than even Bowie's.

Frustratingly, there's no room for electronic music (of a different sort to TG) or free improv here. Man, this was tough.

Justin Cober-Lake

The Who — Quadrophenia

Without a doubt the singularly most important record in my life. I still consider it the best record by my favorite band, and it's the one that holds that save/change/influence your life slot for me.

Miles Davis — Kind of Blue

I picked this up in college when I decided I should try out some jazz and this seems to be at the top of every list and, huh, jazz was interesting. I'm sure something else could have flipped the switch for me, but something else didn't. More specifically, it launched my love of Coltrane. "So What" is the quintessence of cool.

Bon Jovi — Slippery When Wet

My first favorite album. It went well with the fast skate at the Roll-Arena and it helped form my idea that rock goes best in stadiums, ideally with a lead singer flying out over the crowd. It would take at least until grunge hit for me to re-think that idea, and I'm not sure I have.

 Bob Dylan — Blood on the Tracks

This one was good at first, convincing me that my dad was right on this Dylan guy. At the very least, I liked the story of "Lily, Rosemary, and the Jack of Hearts." After a few years, it became significant in its catharsis and its artistry.

 Wilco — Yankee Hotel Foxtrot

My other four choices are mainly about me alone with my cassettes. This one's about the entanglement of music and relationships. YHF blew me away on first listen to my friend's copy, but the whole experience is closely connected to meeting, dating, and marrying my wife. The record fit (and developed) my tastes; the sound still resonates.

Ben Donnelly

Various Artists — Music of the Ozarks  A National Geographic mail order compilation of field recordings that appeared in our house when I was in elementary school. My mom lived in Arkansas when *she* was in elementary school, and it brought back a lot of memories for her. While there's great fiddle and guitar melodies that gallop up and down traditional scales, there's also mouth-bow and dulcimer drones that hypnotize. The storytelling can be haunting but the wordplay is fey— "the prettiest girl I ever did see was down in the Arkansas"

The Cars —  S/T Their still-newish debut album showed up in 8-track form when my cousin moved in with us. He had a single-speaker 8-track player that looked like a TNT detonator, and the flow of this record blew me up. I knew the singles from the radio, but hearing the non-stop deadpan hooks set me up with an aversion to singers who try too hard. The resonances of distorto guitar over synth arpeggios are a source of permanent affection for me, whether they show up in the Fall, an Arthur Baker remix, or some random Dirtnap punk band. I immediately latched on to the least-known cut, "I'm in Touch with Your World", which is retrospect is pretty jagged stuff for a power pop album. They hardened American ears for the late-breaking influence of the Velvets.  Moody Blues —  In Search of the Lost Chord Anyone can enjoy the well-crafted songs of Magical Mystery Tour, Sell Out or Their Satanic Majesties Request, but how about when the acid hits third rate beat bands? There's wonderfully wussy twee in places (I've seen polar bears and seals, I've seen giant Antarctic eels, I've still not found what I'm looking for) but "Legend of Mind" balances harmonies with some really heavy riffing. "Ride My See-Saw" seems like the lynchpin freakbeat for Thee Oh Sees and their kind. This record has some forgettable and laughable material, but the Moody's dedication to total soft-headedness set me on the path to deep psych. Donna Summer — Walk Away I think mom bought this for exercising as much as dancing, and boy is it a workout. Not her greatest hits, but so many of the Summer/Moroder peaks are here. They set up our modern day pop cocktail of American r'n'b with European dance production. "I Feel Love" remains the music of the future, just as Eno predicted, but the collection closes with "Our Love", one of the greatest feats of drum machine programming ever. After I went all underground rock, I still found it immensely satisfying when the Celibate Rifles closed their set with a take on "Hot Stuff" that wasn't too jokey. Turn of the century, when disco became hip again, all my love for the stuff came gushing out. Dumb of me to hold back.  Jethro Tull — Stand Up This only album here I shelled out my lawn-mowing cash to procure, the rest just drifted into the house. I recently gave Stand Up the first thorough spin in years, and its fine set of songs, as close as they got to the more socially acceptable Fairport/Pentangle school of folk rock. The balalaika-lead "Fat Man" may have been my introduction to Balkan textures. "Back to the Family" is dourly amusing. "Reasons for Waiting" quite cleverly fuses flute and organ for the kind of rave up you'd expect from guitar and bass, and turns it into maypole dance. You could imagine this iteration of the band going full Wicker Man, like Comus, had their lineup not quickly solidified around Aqualung riffs and multi-part suites.

Mason Jones

The five records prompt made me think about albums that were part of my formative listening years, which is certainly very different from the albums that are currently important. Going with the early formative albums I'm coming up with:

 Coil—Horse Rotorvator

Back in the 1980s I had started discovering early industrial music and was buying albums and magazines at Schoolkids in Ann Arbor. I had heard of Coil but hadn't found anything yet, when I discovered a used promo cassette of this album in Wazoo, and it completely upended my world. It remains a strong favorite to this day.

 Bauhaus — In the Flat Field

When I was early in my guitar-playing, the sonic variation from Daniel Ash was really important, and despite the passage of time I can still listen to Bauhaus.

 Jimi Hendrix Experience—Axis: Bold as Love

Again from a guitar player standpoint, this album has everything.

 Foetus — Nail

Alongside the Coil album, this one remains essential to me for its cohesion and focus, and dark humor mixed with brilliant sounds.

 Fushitsusha — PSFD 15/16

Doesn't really have a name, but the second volume of Fushitsusha's live 2CD offerings was a big push toward forming SubArachnoid Space back in the day, and Haino's guitar work is unimpeachable. It also later led to my organizing SF shows for the band and releasing a Fushitsusha album on Charnel Music.

 It's very hard not to include Skullflower, Big Black, Crash Worship, Pink Floyd, and ELO (!) albums in this list... 

Jennifer Kelly

The Stones -- Sticky Fingers (or Exile or, if I'm honest, Hot Rocks, of which I have worn out at least three cassette copies)

As a relatively straight-laced young lady in pre-internet Indiana, my choices were limited and few of the things that I liked as a teenager are relevant anymore.  But Stones (up to maybe Tattoo You) have held up, still dark, still sexual, still exuding a kind of threat and coolness that was out of reach for me then and now, but still holds some appeal.  I’m going with Sticky Fingers because it has both “Bitch” and “Moonlight Mile,” two of the respectively nastiest and the most beautiful songs in the Stones catalogue.  

 The Who -- The Who Sell Out

I don’t want to get into a fight with Justin, but to me this is peak Who, trippy and transcendent (I could listen to “I Can See for Miles” all day), goofily tongue-in-cheek (“Heinz Baked Beans”) and still so very far away from slipping into the rock band cliché of later years.  

 The Clash -- London Calling

As I mentioned above, I grew up with radio in Indiana, the good stuff, such as it was, was mostly R&B, and so I got to college in 1981 and was OUTRAGED to find out that punk rock had happened without me. I’ve probably listened to London Calling more than any other record in my life.  I actually had to take this off my iTunes a few years ago because I just could not listen to it again, but no question that it was formative.

 Jay Reatard -- Blood Visions

We saw him in Northampton a couple of months before he passed, and god-damn, talk about the real deal. Punk rock is never dead, but it sure is always dying.  

  Sleater-Kinney -- Dig Me Out

After my son Sean was born, I spent about a year listening to nothing but opera, specifically Tannhauser, specifically the overture to the first act...and it was this record more than anything -- well, okay, Elliott Smith and Pavement and Neutral Milk Hotel played a role too -- that brought me back.  But Sleater-Kinney was special because they rocked so hard and in such a very female kind of way, with their trembly vibrato voices and looping collaborative guitars and bang-out-loud anger and heedless engulfing joy.  “Words and Guitar,” it’s all you really need.  

Brett Marion

The Jesus & Mary Chain — Psychocandy (Blanco y Negro, 1985)

Advancing rock music’s mission of moral decay at light speed through the simultaneous paying homage to and annihilation of doo-wop melodies and early pop-rock and blues forms through ridiculous amounts of industrial buzz and clatter.

 Brian Eno - Thursday Afternoon (EG, 1985)

Off-putting, in equal measure, by its rather domestic title and daunting hour-long playing length, a peek inside is a sensory tank full of narcotic luxury—its every-so-often recurring Doppler-like bass swells effectively bending all notions of time and space. Ambient plus plus.

 Felt — Poem of the River (Creation, 1987)

Growing up in the 1980’s suburban American Midwest, you considered yourself lucky if you walked into a shop and found one row of imports relegated to the end of the Pop/Rock section, overpriced and gathering dust. After weeks, perhaps months, I finally found the nerve—and cash—to blindly purchase this gorgeous-looking mini LP (the perfect format, btw). Produced by Mayo Thompson, Poem of the River is a dazzling mix of Lawrence’s self-referential poetic satire, Neil Scott and Tony Willé’s exquisite Verlaine/Lloyd-esque guitar interplay and Martin Duffy’s oddly prominent ballpark organ contributions.

 Spacemen 3 — The Perfect Prescription (Glass, 1987)

Light-years beyond the monotonic two-riff (one-riff?) Stooges’-smothered debut, The Perfect Prescription mainlines the blues, gospel and drug-rock forms with a soul-searching, seldom formulated lyrical honesty, “Oh, listen sweet lord forgive me my sin/ ‘cause I can’t stand this life without all of these things/ Know I’ve done wrong ‘cause I’ve heaven on Earth/ Know I done wrong but I coulda done me worse.” Cue goose bumps.

 Royal Trux — Accelerator (Drag City, 1998)

From the opening blat of “I’m Ready” to the closing guitar solo sunset fade of “Stevie,” Accelerator is a hedonistic rock’n’roll juggernaut that works whatever your drug of choice.

Ian Mathers

Massive Attack — Mezzanine

I might slightly prefer Blue Lines, but in what might be a running theme here, growing up in a small town with no record store in pre-Napster/pre-YouTube days, I was often lucky to get my hands on even one album from a band the internet could now let me read about if not actually hear. I thought I knew electronic music at the time, but really I knew Aphex/Squarepusher style pranksterism and the cheesy end of trance and not much in between (or further afield). I don't think I'd heard anything at the time as beautifully produced or relentlessly, darkly, menacing; from the first time the scything, processed drum loop gnashes against the subterranean bass pulses on "Angel" I was absolutely entranced, and that's before they threw a goddamn guitar solo in there. I know other bands who've made as many records I adore as Massive Attack have, but not many where all of those albums could be the work of entirely distinct outfits. Still, this is the one that got its hooks into me first, and arguably the first (spiritually) Goth album I ever loved.

 Prolapse — The Italian Flag

In said small town, one of the few ways to actually hear the kind of thing I was getting into (thanks to my dad's record collection and an obsession with Radiohead's OK Computer that means I would have picked it here except I haven't had anything interesting to say about that album other than it got me reading UK music magazines online in years) was watching the Wedge late at night on MuchMusic. MTV existed and we knew about it, but nobody I knew had access to it in Canada. One night they definitely (and wonderfully) played the video for "Killing the Bland", a song that I was instantly obsessed with. As a teenager devoted to finding the fastest, loudest, most aggressive guitar music I could but who somehow never got into hardcore punk or speed metal the fleet, clattering assault of Prolapse was catnip, I loved "Scottish" Mick Derrick and Linda Steelyard's dueling accents, and the video was hilarious. I wouldn't be another seven or eight years or so before I'd know or hear anything more of Prolapse, a band it's still risky to google, thanks to Will Swygart's fine assessment at Stylus where I was writing at the time. I've since tracked down physical copies of everything the band's put out that I can, and I'm still bitter that I couldn't see them open for Mogwai a while back, probably my only chance to hear one of my favourite bands live. At least I still have The Italian Flag, a record where basically nothing else sounds like "Killing the Bland" (also there) but everything does sound like the way indie rock maybe should have gone in 1997: dense, abrasive, scabrous, almost magnetically pessimistic, and very funny.

 Low — Secret Name

If you ever doubt the power of people writing about music, let me tell you about Low (the source, incidentally, for the largest tattoo I have). A band I don't think I'd heard about when I ran into this when I was in first year university and reading through all of glenn mcdonald's (yes, he prefers lower case) ten-year writing project The War Against Silence. These days glenn is more well known for doing a lot of the number crunching for the big Village Voice music critic annual poll, but so much of his writing is so important to me in so many ways. And his description of this band that he was so enthralled by hit me so hard that the next time I had some disposable income I walked into my local record store and bought the Low album they had in stock, sound unheard. That record was, err, Things We Lost in the Fire. An amazing album, but Secret Name is here instead because when you've listened to all of a band's work as much as I have with Low's, that first impression sometimes gets outweighed. If pushed I might even pick another LP as my 'favorite', but there's something beautiful and pure and terrifying in the depths of Secret Name, something I can't escape, something that comes closest to giving me what I read in glenn's writing. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad they've continued to grow and change, and not just because I love Ones and Sixes so much; neither the world nor this band need Secret Name II or the time and effort that could be wasted trying to make it. But more than anything else, this record is probably the reason I have the Chairkickers' Union seal inked on my back.

 Spacemen 3 — Performance: Live at the Melkweg 6/2/88

I got really into Spiritualized then when one of the few albums I could find to listen to was their two disc live Royal Albert Hall October 10 1997 I decided that was by far the best thing they'd ever done, then on a school trip knowing they were some kind of proto-Spiritualized I bought a Spacemen 3 album. I still love Spiritualized, but in some ways Spacemen 3 were more relevant to me as a young adult and when I bought this dodgy-looking live album essentially on a whim, it nearly ruined me for anything else Jason Pierce has touched. Specifically the dodgiest version of the album, with the naff cover art and the typos in the track listing and three extra tracks including a monumental, maddening, ear-splitting version of "Suicide" that ended with a loop of crowd noise, as if to let the listener recover. This is, as far as I'm concerned, the only version of the album, and one of the best rock records of all time. When my wife and I were first dating and she still lived down in Florida and I saw that version in the store again I bought that copy and brought it to her. As much as The Perfect Prescription is an amazing album, after I heard Performance I almost couldn't stand to listen to it for a number of years. Pretty much everyone else I know who has listened to Performance thinks it's, you know, okay.

 Mogwai — Come On Die Young

The thing about having to buy records without hearing even a single song on them first is that sometimes you're disappointed. But the thing about not having many other records to listen to is that you sometimes wind up giving those disappointing records another chance, or a third, fourth, fifth... all I'd heard about Mogwai was how crack-the-sky huge they were, and here I was with an almost obtuse feeling album, one that started with a ballad and made you wait for the big explosion until track nine. Part of my understanding and appreciation for Come On Die Young now is simply a matter of historical context I couldn't have had then, namely that this (and the EP+6 compilation released the next year) represented some kind of small apotheosis for Mogwai as a nocturnal, abstract, guitar-based band. From 2001's Rock Action on, they'd more fully integrate Barry Burns and turn into a slightly different if still incredible band. But there's a weight and a solemnity to Come on Die Young that's very different from everything they'd do after. Also "Ex-Cowboy" is the great overlooked epic in their discography. 

Eric McDowell

Slap Happy — Casablanca Moon (1974)

Just when you think you've heard it all... A reminder of how much great music from the classic rock era is out there waiting to be loved. Dagmar Krause's singing is startlingly good, as are the lyrics ("Out on the street, sobbing with lust / I hoped for a banquet, she denied me a crust"!). Also look for the earlier version recorded with Faust, Acnalbasac Noom. 

 Arthur Blythe — Illusions (1980)

Incredible group including James Blood Ulmer on guitar, Abdul Wadud on cello, and Bob Stewart on tuba (among others). I want to buy this album all over again whenever I see it and have tried (in vain) to get strangers at record stores to take it home. Luckily this was recently reissued in a set with some other Blythe albums, including the killer Lenox Avenue Breakdown. 

 Pauline Oliveros — Accordion & Voice (1982)

My introduction to her work and still my favorite. 

 Oren Ambarchi — Hubris (2016)

After a peek into Ambarchi's discography, I couldn't get enough of him— especially his albums on Editions Mego. This one came out on my birthday. 

 Anna Meredith — Varmints (2016)

For some reason I've come back to this more than anything else these first months of 2017... Whatever works!

Bill Meyer

Brian Eno — Another Green World 

I checked this out of a library when I was still a high school prog dabbler and classic rock radio/NPR listener in Michigan in the late 1970s. While I had heard a little Eno before, I had had never heard anything like this and it opened me up to the intersection of sonic novelty, pith, creative playing, wit, and song-craft divorced from literal meaning. 

Velvet Underground — Live 1969

Economy, open-endedness, the most brilliantly rudimentary drumming in rock and roll, and some marvelous songs performed with a casual confidence that Lou Reed would rarely evidence in his subsequent solo career.

Art Ensemble of Chicago — Nice Guys

Not necessarily their best, but my first AEC record, and also one of my first brushes with free jazz, Afrocentric theater, and even modal jazz. 

Alastair Galbraith — Morse

The feeling you have before remorse. Naked emotion, songs boiled to barest essentials, marvelous sounds all forged in drafty rooms in one of the world's southernmost cities.

John Fahey— Return of the Repressed

Again, not my first encounter with Fahey. But the sheer preponderance of blues-derived picking, dissonance that resonates with corners of the soul untouched by the sun, rhythms driven by a thumb that just would not stop, and great, great tunes set off an obsession with the man and with the myriad manifestations of American Primitive Guitar that remain strong over two decades on.

Lucas Schleicher

I'll play with the format a bit. Here are five albums that matter to me that were either released in the last five years or that I heard for the first time in the last five years. I'm counting as far back as 2011 since 2017 is still new, so fuck it.

 Michael Pisaro / Taku Sugimoto — 2 Seconds / B Minor / Wave (Erstwhile, 2010) This came out almost 7 years ago now, but I didn't hear it until 2011. After reading Bill's reviews of Close Constellations and Asleep, Street, Pipes, Tones, I started listening to a lot of Pisaro's music and reading a lot of his essays and I fell in love quickly. This was the first thing I got my hands on and I still think it's one of the more amazing records he's put together. The first two pieces, "2 Seconds" and "B Minor," are especially beautiful and far easier to approach than you might think. The premise guiding the performances are similarly straightforward, but they produce some amazingly synchronous improvisations. If Pisaro or Wandelweiser interest you at all, I think this is as good a place to begin as any.

 The 25-Year Retrospective Concert of The Music of John Cage (Wergo, 1994, originally released in 1958 or 1959) I knew a tiny bit about John Cage before 2011, but most of it was so superficial as to be useless. After hearing the rendition of "Sonatas and Interludes" on here (by Maro Ajemian), I realized just how little of Cage I actually knew (never mind how little I understood). His music wasn't just controversial (the silent piece!) or "ahead of its time" (Variations II), it could be beautiful and approachable and elegant. After listening to this collection for months on end, I went and bought Silence, and reading that was basically life-changing. Cage opened my head and ears to all kinds of art and music that I'd never given much attention before, so this is a significant, best-ever record for me that came well after my teens/early 20s.

 Eliane Radigue — Trilogie De La Mort (Experimental Intermedia Foundation, 1998, composed b/w '85 and '93) Radigue is responsible for some of the most unusual and psychedelic listening I've ever been a part of, and that's without drugs. Some friends at work knew I liked drone-y ambient music and were shocked that I didn't know hers. The Trilogie was on my stereo at home for months in 2012. I listened closely, I let it play quietly in the background, I fell asleep to it, I dreamed lucid dreams to it, and I'm almost certain I hallucinated to it in the middle of the night one week when my wife was back home in NY and I had the chance to play it overnight on repeat. I had a full conversation with her in my kitchen and awoke the next day to find that I had left food out on the table that wasn't there when I went to bed. I chalked it up to sleepwalking, but it took me a little while to figure out Laura wasn't back from NY early. Besides being a lot of fun to listen to, Radigue's approach to sound and the way she handles time blows my mind. I think of her a lot and am always impressed by how she can make very little sound like so much. 

 United Bible Studies ‎— The Ale's What Cures Ye: Traditional Songs From The British Isles. Vol. 1 (MIE Music, 2015) this is just a brilliant record with wonderful songs interpreted in exciting ways by an excellent band. I have a weakness for British folk music and hearing this band in this mode was very exciting in 2015. I still listen to it almost every month and find new things to like about it. After hearing this for the first time, I went back down a deep rabbit hole that I had once managed to climb out of: Shirley Collins, Albion Country Band, Fairport Convention, Fotheringay, etc. etc. I guess getting away from this stuff is impossible. It's always lurking there in the back of my brain and I always turn it up when it comes on. 

 Hala Strana — Fielding (Jewelled Antler, 2003, reissued 2005, now available on Worstward Bandcamp) I knew Steven R. Smith from as far back as Tableland, but somehow I missed this Hala Strana 2CD from 2003, and in fact knew almost nothing about his Hala Strana records until a couple of years ago. I absolutely love Smith's work; he's a brilliant multi-instrumentalist, he writes excellent songs, and he works so well in various genres that it'd be easy to miss that the Ulaan releases are by the same guy responsible for the Hala Strana releases. Fielding is full of the music of Eastern Europe, either in the form of covers of traditional songs or as original pieces written with Hungary, Romania, Ukraine, and others in mind. Smith plays virtually everything you hear: guitar, hurdy-gurdy, bouzouki, etc. I think he might have a band on some songs, but I don't have the liner notes with me to confirm. Anyway, this album reminded me that, despite my constant listening to avant-garde whatever, I still love songs and popular song forms (just like the UBS album did). Now I buy everything by Smith that I can get my hands on. He hasn't disappointed me yet. 

Adam Strohm

Sonic Youth — Dirty (1992)

This isn't my favorite Sonic Youth record, and I haven't listened to it much for at least 15 years, but this is where it all started for me. As a kid in rural PA who was dipping my two into alternative music through the usual avenues (Nirvana, REM, etc.), I'm not even sure I totally understood why people considered Sonic Youth so important, but something clicked with me, and like so many other people my age, this band was the gateway to so much more. I can probably trace 70% of what I currently listen to back to Sonic Youth in some way, so there's no way I can leave them off of this list, even though their records rarely hit the turntable (except for Rather Ripped, for some reason that one resonates more with me now that it did when it came out). I feel as though this is the most boring entry that will be on any of these lists, but I have no idea what I'd be into these days if I hadn't gotten hooked on Dirty back in 1994 or 95.

Queen — The Game (1980)

I probably listened to more Run DMC or Michael Jackson than anything else as a kid, but Queen was my first favorite band. My dad tells stories about me singing "Don't Try Suicide" in a shopping cart at the grocery store and the weird looks people gave him, and at some point, I found a cassette with a fragment of me singing "Another One Bites The Dust" as I lug the recorder around the house. My Queen fandom simmered for many years, but when I finally decided in college than rock music that predated punk could be good, Queen again loomed large. Their records still surprise me with regularity, and I still love introducing someone who only knows "Bohemian Rhapsody" to "Ogre Battle" or "Brighton Rock," which, to me, may be the best thing the band ever recorded.

Glass — Koyaanisqatsi (1983)

The synthesizer in "Baba O'Riley" was probably the thing that hooked me on minimalism, but it took me a regretably long time to connect the dots from my favorite moment in the Who discography to Terry Riley. By then, I'd already gotten a tape from a friend with Koyaanisqatsi on it. He'd thrown it on the tape thinking I might dig it, and it took some time, but I found myself increasingly and unexpectedly drawn to something I'd thought was cheesy and boring on first listen. Getting comfortable with this music sent me down a path than included, of course, Terry Riley and Steve Reich, but also helped me finally wrangle with drones, and made me really, really glad I'd kept a Phill Niblock promo that I'd been sent years before. The cd that my friend sourced the cassette from skipped at one point, which he didn't know when he sent me the tape. Some days, I miss that version of Koyaanisqatsi.

Frith — Gravity (1980)

College-aged me was a little insufferable when it came to talking music, I think. If there weren't guitars, things usually needed to be harsh, weird, or chaotic for me to care. I professed disinterest in any Coltrane prior to Interstellar Space, and had a hard time knowing how to handle anything that felt too traditional, straightforward, or linear. I saw Fred Frith perform in Vienna in 1999 and loved his style of improvisation; diving into his discography not long later, I came home with Gravity, something decidedly different. It was a bit of a lark for me at the time, something I'd put on to inspire a particular mood, or to confuse my friends, but in quick time, I was in love. This record, along with some others, opened the door for me to let my guard down a bit and let in the stuff I'd found too "normal" before; though Gravity is anything but a normal record, it was a pivotal album for me when it came to branching out as a listener, and it's still a favorite.

Devo — Q: Are We Not Men? A: We Are Devo! (1978)

This fifth spot is a tough one. So many things could (and maybe should) go here, like Nirvana (duh), a Pavement record, some Coltrane or Ayler, Oren Ambarchi, or maybe Bob Dylan. But Devo gets the nod, partially because their debut has been a favorite and one of the albums I can listen to no matter the situation, and also because there's something about this band and their sensibilities that had a huge effect on me as a young spud. The idea of this sort of strangeness and absurdity as a vehicle of delivery for social commentary, political critique, and subversive sexuality rewired some parts of my brain, and, for a while, made me very serious about making very goofy music. I haven't played in a rock band for years (you're welcome, world), but this record was a huge influence when I did, and shifted the way I thought about the way humor, shock value, and weirdness could work in music.

Derek Taylor

Jimi Hendrix — Electric Ladyland

Religious, lights-out, prostrate-on-the-bed-with-ear-goggles-affixed immersive listening throughout my teen years and a central pillar of my fealty to music appreciation this day. “Little Miss Strange” is the floating turd in an otherwise pristine Porcelain God of a double-album.

 John Coltrane — First Meditations

Classic Quartet dry run for the more widely heralded session with esteemed guests added & bridge to the instrument-transcending utterances that would become Trane’s untimely end-game. “Compassion” still irrigates the eyes to overflowing under the right circumstances.

 John Fahey — America

Prerequisite companion to nearly every post-teen road-trip I’ve ever taken. “Dalhart, Texas 1967” in particular is as indelible an evocation of time and place through sound as I’ve ever heard.

 Minutemen — Double Nickels on the Dime

Didn’t discover these guys from Pedro until college, but their weird nexus of post-punk, funk, jazz, politics & SoCal see-if-shit-sticks DIY credo instantly won me over. Add to that an unapologetic affection for classic rock staples like CCR and Van Halen and any associative contradictions got ironed out by their unabashed allegiance to humanism.

 ZZ Top’s First Album

Three dudes from Tejas who put so much into their debut that coming up with an actual title seemed incidental. Although I never kept count it was probably my most-played cassette in high school and Billy Gibbons’ tenure as Hendrix roadie & professed favorite guitarist brings the list full circle. 

[thespecialrelationship-phff]

Chapter 13

AN: A bit of a long one today but a good one I think! Enjoy!

Harry’s POV

“Sir, you’re staring.” Ed’s voice is quiet but firm.

I jerk slightly then realize I am in fact staring. I’m staring at her. She arrived about an hour ago and it’s used every ounce of my self-control to not immediately stride over to her. The aquatic stadium was a busy place today, with finals in all of the events.

It meant today was a long day, meeting lots of people. And when Kennedy arrived I got to see just how she would act with the crowd.

She looked beautiful, just like she did this morning. Her hair was pulled back into a low, messy knot, a few wisps framing her face. She looks like spring personified: the yellow dress with the flowers, her sun kissed skin. And her legs, long lean. After this morning I know they’re smooth to the touch as well.

To everyone else though she looks untouchable. I watched as she first arrived. People looked at her with a sort of reverence, respect but all at a distance.

At first, I was afraid she would maintain the distance, put on her old mask of ‘Margaret’. I watched as she slowly brought out her true self. She was laughing and talking with groups of people. She walked with her usual confidence but with a more casual air. It was intoxicating.

Just like I predicted the people responded. Gone were the looks of reverent veneration, replaced with genuine appreciation.

Beyond that she looks happy. And she looks bloody beautiful when she’s happy.

“Harry.” Ed admonishes again.

Slowly I shift my eyes away from her, hopefully no one noticed. “Thanks.”

I focus on the Relay happening in front of me, determined not to keep staring at Kennedy. I can’t fully focus though. I watch but don’t notice much of the outcome. My clapping is half a beat too late.

“I think you could justify going over now.” Ed remarks. He doesn’t have to be specific. I know exactly what and who he’s talking about.

I didn’t tell Ed happened this morning or last night. But the man probably knows more than he lets on. Sometimes he’s too good at his job.

“I’ll make my way over.” I say evenly or at least try to.

I walk over stopping to talk to competitors and families along the way, all the while keeping one eyes on Kennedy.

She’s near one of the starting blocks surrounded by members of the American, British and Estonian teams.  Of course I can’t tell what they’re talking about but she has all of the men entranced. They’re all hanging on every word.

I lower my voice, “Those are members of the British team right?”

“Yes. Fergus Hurst and Luke Reeson. I’m not sure where the other members are.”

I nod, knowing that I now have a legitimate reason to approach the group. Our relay had won the gold medal and I have yet to congratulate the team since the medal ceremonies are held later this evening.

Fergus happens to glance up and see me, “Prince Harry!” He exclaims.

Kennedy turns her head and we lock eyes. They’re bright, shining today. She really is happy.

“Mates!” I hold open my arms. “Congratulations!”

We exchange a quick hug. “Well done.”

Fergus smirks, “Thank you. It felt good. Finally win something from those Americans.” His gaze slides over to Kennedy.

She shakes her head with a smile, “Don’t make us challenge you guys to a rematch.”

One of the American swimmers nods then leans close to her, whispering. “They won’t do it. They know it was just a fluke.”

A chorus of ‘ohs’ fills our small circle.

“Maybe Kennedy can be the judge.” Fergus adds, still staring at Kennedy. My neck prickles. I don’t like the way he’s focused on her.

“I would be happy to.” She shrugs. “Of course we would have to keep it open to Estonia as well.”

She gestures to those athletes, “Would you be up for it?”

The four men exchange a look then quickly shake their heads. “We know when to step away.” The man steps forward and clasps Kennedy hands, placing a brief kiss on her knuckles. “It was truly an honor to meet you Miss Randolph.”

Slowly Kennedy turns her hand over and pulls the man close for a kiss on the cheek. “Sincerely, the pleasure was all mine.”

The man is enchanted as he walks away, his skin colored with just the slightest flush. Receiving the full attention of Kennedy is no easy thing. I know first-hand it can be overwhelming.

Now that it’s just Kennedy, the Americans and us Kennedy sighs. “Sorry gentlemen, no rematch.”

“Damn.” Fergus pauses. “We’ve been meaning to ask you something Miss Randolph.”

“Oh?” She turns her head to the GB Relay team.

“Any recommendation for our last two days in beautiful Orlando?”

The question seems casual but I can feel the tension rolling off the American athletes. I know Fergus is a flirt, we’ve run into one another before, but hitting on the First Lady is too far even for him.

She blinks, “Hmm. You know, I would make sure you see Epcot, get a pair of mouse ears.”

It’s a completely appropriate response, but I latch onto the fact that she mentioned Epcot. Was that a veiled reference to last night? God, I really want it to be.

“Standing offer to accompany us.” Fergus continues holding up his hands.

Her mouth parts slightly, no doubt wondering the best way to turn down the offer.

Then Brett Parks, a member of the American team intervenes. He throws a casual arm around her shoulders, “Sorry mate, Miss Randolph already promised to celebrate this evening with our team.”

She pauses for a second probably wondering how appropriate it is for him to have his arm around her. Then I watch as she relaxes and even leans into the veteran. “Yes. I’m sorry.”  Then her gaze slides to mine. “I’m sure Prince Harry would be happy to celebrate with you all.”

The guys chuckle, “It would be legendary.”

I nod, “You have my number. Let me know what you guys are getting into this evening.” I say, already knowing that I’ll have some sort of excuse. There’s only one thing on my agenda for tonight and she’s standing there with another man’s arm wrapped around her.

I’m proud enough to admit that I hate the sight, even though I know Parks is a good guy. He was probably acting in her defense but still…she was in my arms hours ago.  I want to feel her against mine again.

And I want a minute alone with her now. “How are you enjoying the swimming events?”

Her lips purse slightly, no doubt remembering just what our code stands for. “Immensely. I always loved to swim.”

One of the guys agrees but I stay focused on Kennedy.

I shrug, “I always thought it depended on who was in fact swimming.” I tilt my head to the side. “Right?”

She’s staring at me, smiling now, her eyes sparkling with mischief. I’m sure the same is reflected in my eyes.

Fergus jumps in again, “I don’t think so. Swimming is swimming.”

Kennedy bites her lips, then shakes her head. “I’ll have to disagree with you on that one. It very much depends on just who’s doing the swimming.”

I need to get her alone again. I’m wracking my brain for a way for the two of us to have a private moment.

Ed interrupts then, speaking just slightly louder then he usually does. “Sir, your needed for the interview with the Centennial.”

I nod, knowing that the group has heard Ed’s statement. I also know that I have no interview with that publication scheduled for this afternoon. He’s good. “Of course.” I snap my fingers. “Miss Randolph, isn’t this the joint interview?”

Her eyes widen just slightly, the only thing that betrays her surprise. “Right.” She sighs. “So unfortunately gentlemen, I have to leave you. Team GB, well done today, but don’t get too comfortable at the top of the podium.”

She turns to the Americans and smiles. “Good job guys. I’m so proud of you. Seriously, thank you for the incredible performance.”

All of them smile, another group of people successfully enraptured by her charm. Quickly they pose for a picture before the two of us walk away.

We fall into step with one another, our entourages around us.

“Do you really have plans this evening?” She asks.

“An old friend of mine is coming over for dinner. But you’re more than welcome to come.” I told Lovell that he had to at least have one meal with me while he was here. Unfortunately, it has to be tonight.

“I don’t want to intrude.”

I shrug, “You either come over for dinner or you come over right after. I’m just trying to make the best use of our time.”

“How timesaving of you.”

I chuckle, “I’m just looking for the most efficient way to go swimming again.”

It’s easy to get lost in our report, but I have to remember that we are still in public with plenty of prying eyes and listening ears.

She bites her lip then glances at me, keeping her head straight forward. “How do you feel about skinny dipping?”

Skinny dipping, swimming but without clothes. If she’s speaking literally or within our code I don’t know and I don’t care. I would be in total support of either. A hot flash runs through my body. I can vividly remember the feel of her pressed up against me, only the thin material of her dress separating me from her.

I take a slow breath, making sure my voice is even when I respond. “My favorite type of swimming.” I pause. “Well, beyond the breast stroke that is.”

She gasps and her hand flies to her mouth to cover up the laugh. Paul interjects, “Miss?”

She rolls her eyes, “I’m fine Paul.”

We come to a stop near the exit. “Do you actually have plans with the American athletes?”

“I don’t. I just think Brett very politely saved me from having to turn down Fergus.”

“I knew I always liked him.”

“Jealous?” She asks.

I shrug, choosing to play it cool. “Why would I be jealous of a fling?”

She looks up at me, but I can’t read her. Is she offended? Fine?

For a moment the two of us just stay silent. Then her lips purse. “Good point. Could you send me Fergus’ number then?”

I can’t help but scowl.

A slow, confident smile appears on her face. It’s triumphant and sexy as ever. “That’s what I thought.”

I step closer, wanting her to know that she doesn’t get to win all of our tete-a-tetes. “Don’t pretend that I’m the only one wanting here Kennedy. I had your sweet body pinned against a wall this morning with nothing but a staircase protecting us. And that didn’t stop you from sighing, moaning, wanting.” I pause, letting the image sink in. “I only want more.”

With a quick glance around to ensure there are no prying eyes, I grasp her chin in my hands, forcing her to look up at me. Her eyes have taken on a dreamy quality again. “Tease me sure, I can take it. But don’t push too far. I would hate to deny either of us the pleasure.”

She watches me with hooded eyes, processing my words slowly. Then her tongue peeks out to run over her lips, now glistening. She nods almost imperceptibly, “Understood.”

I brush my thumb over her cheekbone, “Good.”

“I’ll see you tonight.” Then she’s gone.

Once the events for the day are finished it’s late but I still insist that Lovell still come over for dinner and drinks. It’s been too long since I’ve seen him and I refuse to waste this opportunity.

I order steak from room service as well as some beer and whiskey, remembering that those were his favorite. Hopefully that will help the bridge the gap of the last three years.

I’m pacing when there’s a knock on the door. With a deep breath I open it. My old friend is standing there dressed casually again with a slightly nervous look on his face. I see him tense as if to come to attention.

“Parker, mate, come on in.” I interrupt, not wanting any protocol. He flashes an uneasy smile but enters my suite.

I close the door then turn to look at him place his bag on the counter. I can’t help but notice the slight limp I swallow thickly. This could be difficult. “Make yourself at home. The food is on the table.”

He nods but doesn’t move away from the counter.

“Is everything okay?”

He looks over at the food then back at me then winces. Shit, what’s wrong? I panic and am ready to ask again when he speaks.

“I’m a vegetarian.”

“What?” I blurt out.

“I’m a vegetarian now.” He repeats.

“Uh-“

“I know it’s crazy.”

“No, no, not at all.” I assure then approach the room phone my mind racing. “I’ll just order something else.”

“Sorry mate, I don’t mean to put you out.”

“Not a problem.” I look over to the alcohol. “You still drink?”

He glances at me, “Now I’m insulted.” He then chuckles. “Of course I still drink.”

I laugh as well the tension dissipating slightly. “Good.”

“I can still drink you under the table too.” He adds.

I look over to him, standing there with that cocky smirk on his face. He looks exactly has I remember him, short dark hair, tan skin, maybe a little leaner but still Parker.

“You’re staring.”

I let out a sigh of relief, “It’s just really good to see you mate.”

He ducks his head but smiles, “Likewise.” Slowly he walks over to me and we hug tightly. He pats me on the back. “Let’s open that whiskey while we wait on my food.”

We’re catching up, drinking, eating reminiscing. It feels good. Parker and I always got along. I don’t think I realized how big of a void he really left.

“So, what do you think about the Games?”

He sets his bottle down, “I have to say it’s incredible. I had no idea it was going to be this…this…” He’s searching for the right word.

“Big?”

“Good.” He laughs and I just snort.

“Thanks for the confidence.”

“No, no, seriously. Everything has been amazing. I didn’t know there would be so many competitors.”

I nod, “I know. It still surprises me. You should come out for Toronto next year.”

He winces.

“Or not.”

Slowly he puts his bottle down. “This week was a big step for me. Hell, meeting up with you was a big step.”

I stay quiet even though hundreds of questions are rushing through my head.

Parker stares down at his hands, “You’re the first one I’ve seen since the hospital.”

I wait, wondering if he’ll add anything more.

He sighs and rubs one hand over his head, “Look, I don’t have to tell you it’s bloody fucking hard to come back to civilian life and then with everything else.”

“I get it.”

“But do you?” He retorts sharply. Then he sighs. “Sorry, I didn’t want it to be like this.”

“Don’t apologize. You’re entitled to how you feel.” I know how important those words can be.

“Right. But I’m not angry at you. It took me a long time to realize that. It took me a long time to separate it all, the anger, the grief, the hopelessness.  At first the anger was easiest and then avoiding it was all easiest.” He look up at me our gazes lock. And I can still see the pain in his eyes but I see so much more of the young soldier I knew. “I’m getting there Wales, I really am.”

I grab his arm and squeeze. “There’s no rush Rex. I’m here for you always.”

He grasps mine as well a ghost of a smile on his lips, “Thank you.”

My comrade and friend pours two healthy shots, “To the 6-6-2.”

“6-6-2.” We knock back the shots. I cough slightly. “Just like old times.”

“Right. Except you have less hair.” He jokes.

“Hey now.”

“And I have less legs.” He adds with a smirk. “I think you got the better deal Wales.”

I laugh along, knowing that it’s part of coping with it all. He’s comfortable in his body that’s important. I get it, other veterans would get it even if civilians wouldn’t.

We relax choosing to bring the alcohol over to the sitting area instead of the table. “Now, you have to tell me what’s going on between you and the fuckin’ First Lady of the United States.”

“Nothing.” Which isn’t technically a lie.

“Bullocks. It’s all over the internet.”

“Don’t believe everything you read on the internet.”

He just shakes his head, “You’re still a shit liar.”

“She’s a beautiful woman.” I say diplomatically.

He just rolls his eyes, “The whole bloody world knows that. That doesn’t answer my question.”

I sip on my beer. “We’re friends.”

“Are you friends or are you friends?”

I stay silent.

“You lucky bastard.” He’s come to his own conclusions and I don’t correct him. It’s not like he would believe me anyways. “Your secret is safe with me.”

“I didn’t doubt it.” I glance down at my watch. “If you stay a little longer you’ll meet her.”

“What?”

“She’s coming over.” I explain. “You’re more than welcome to stay.”

“Really?” He looks awed for a moment.

“Yeah.”

“I would love to meet her. And my mum would go mental.”

I grab another beer, “I’ll warn you though she’s a little different in person then she appears in the press or in public.”

“Oh?”

“Not in a bad way.” I clarify. “Frankly I like her more now that I’ve gotten to know the real her.”

“Interesting.”

Maybe thirty minutes later there’s a knock on the door. Parker blanches. I can’t help but laugh. “Don’t tell me your nervous.” Conveniently I’ve forgotten that I was quite nervous the first time I met her as well.

“She’s the fucking First Lady, mate.”

“And what am I?”

“You’re just Wales to me.”

He has a good point I suppose. I walk over to the door still chuckling to myself. Parker is standing fixing his shirt. He’s lost it I think.

I open the door and immediately glance down. She’s not wearing heels this evening, so her head meets my shoulder. I glance down and notice a fair bit of bare skin. Her white top has thin straps with an open neck and stops a good few inches before her bellybutton. But she’s wearing a long beige skirt to balance it out. She looks comfortable, relaxed, her long hair in loose waves. “Hey.”

I smile, “Hey.”

She looks over my shoulder, “Can I come in?”

“Yeah of course, sorry.” I step to the side and let her walk past me.

I go to introduce Parker to Kennedy and I’m struck with a dilemma. Bloody hell, I don’t know which name to use. Kennedy? Margaret? Miss Randolph? My mouth opens but no sound comes out.

“Uh-.”

Luckily Kennedy steps towards Parker, “Hello, lovely to meet you.” She holds out her hand.  I notice that she doesn’t specifically introduce herself by name.

Parker for his part is probably so starstruck he doesn’t notice. His eyes are glazed over gazing at Kennedy like she’s a goddess. Can’t say I blame him. He hasn’t said anything, just stared. Kennedy’s hand is still out there.

Puzzled, she glances back at me. I shrug then cough loudly.

That breaks Parker out of his trance. “Oh, shite.” Then he slaps his hand to his mouth. “Shite, sorry.” He takes a deep breath. “I’ll start over.”

Kennedy smiles warmly. “Not a problem.”

Finally Parker steps forward and shakes her hand, “Miss Randolph, my lady, it’s an honor to meet you. Lieutenant Parker Lovell at your service.” Then he bows.

I roll my eyes. I’ve never seen Parker act like this and he’s met actual royalty before. Kennedy laughs lightly. “Parker, nice to meet you, but really none of that is necessary.”

She glances back towards me, “In fact, call me Kennedy, I insist.”

I can’t help but smile at that. I step closer and quickly brush my hand against hers. “Come sit, how do you feel about whiskey?” Parker just stares. “What?”

“I didn’t think you drank something like whiskey.” He blurts out.

“There’s a lot people don’t know about me.” Kennedy says. “Sorry to disappoint.”

Parker shakes his head still partially in disbelief, “No disappointment at all.”

I shrug as I pour Kennedy a drink, “I told you Rex.”

“So you did.”

“Do I want to know what you two are referring to?” Kennedy asks.

“I just told Rex not to believe everything the press has made you out to be.” I pause. “You’re better in person.”

“Flatterer.” She responds. “Rex?”

Parker nods, “Old military nickname.  We all had them.”

Kennedy eyes sparkles, “Oh? Harry what was yours?”

“Wales.” I respond immediately.

“Bullocks! You have to tell her the real one.”

She looks at me obviously intrigued as she crosses one leg over the other. “Come on then.”

I sigh, “It’s really not that special.” Parker just raises his brow, no doubt ready to reveal it on my behalf. I take a little sip of the whiskey. “Houdini.”

Her brows furrow, “What in the world?”

I glare at Parker. This isn’t really what I wanted to discuss this evening. “After the escape artist.”

I explain shortly. Hopefully the two will let it drop.  But I can see that Kennedy is intrigued she looks over at Parker silently pleading with her eyes. I know my old friend doesn’t stand a chance.

I lean back, thoroughly unamused at this development. Gesturing to Parker I wave him on. “Well go on then.”

He turns to Kennedy, “I won’t go too in depth, but we got into some sticky situations out there.  I think the government decided it was best if most people didn’t know.”

“Well combat is combat. It was dangerous.”

He nods, “Right, but sometimes…it’s hard to explain to a civilian. But the important bit is that Harry here got out of every scrap. Like impossible things. Things no one should have survived, but he always got out. He always…escaped.”

I glance over to Kennedy to see her reaction. Her expression is blank, not necessarily confused but just bland.

Parker leans forward, excited now. “Harry was out on a mission once and the intelligence was faulty. The chopper flies right into enemy fire on two probably three sides. Some of the best pilots in the world couldn’t make it through that but you know who did? Houdini. That’s fucking who.”

Kennedy looks uncomfortable now, her hands clasped on her knees. Her knuckles white.

“Pretty good considering what would happen if they got you.” Parker takes a sip of his drink. “Taliban would have done some nasty shite, right mate?”

I nod absently but I’m still looking at Kennedy, she’s gone white now. Instinctively I reach out, placing my hands over hers. I squeeze, but her hands remain clasped.

Parker glances over then coughs self-consciously. “It’s all good now. We’re all safe. In the long run no worse for the wear…well mostly.”

Kennedy’s eyes have glazed over, lacking focus on anything. Parker looks at me with concern. I focus on Kennedy, wondering just what’s going on in that head of hers.

“Let’s play a game.” I clap my hands. “You up for it Kennedy?”

She blinks rapidly, “Yeah of course.”

I pull out a quarter, “Flip: Sip or Strip.”

A few hours later the three of us are utterly drunk. It turns out Kennedy is rather talented at flipping quarters. While Parker and I are shite at it. At some point Kennedy slipped off her shoes and curled up next to me on the couch. My arm drapes around her shoulders casually.

“So what is going on between the two of you?” Parker slurs.

Kennedy glances up at me and shrugs, “Isn’t that the million-dollar question?”

“You do look like a good couple. Fucken adorable.”

I laugh, “Thanks, I think.”

Parker leans his head back, “Could you imagine? Having the First bleedin Lady as a Princess?”

She snorts then waves her hand dismissively, “That will never happen.”

“I’ll try not to be offended by that, love.” I nudge her.

“Ohhhh.” Parker adds, stirring the pot.

She smiles up at me, drunk but happy. “It’s not you, it’s me.”

“Ouch!”

I just shake my head. Even in my inebriated state I know what she means. The First Lady can’t be married to a foreign Prince, at least not while her dad’s the president. She tips her head back and mouths quick sorry. I shrug and just pull her closer. God, it’s nice to just hold her. I rub my hands up and down her arm, trying not to focus on the way her position forces her breasts into a tempting valley.

“God, kiss her already.”

I blush and Kennedy just looks away sheepishly. “I should probably head back, it’s late.”

I frown at that. So much for making the most of our time together. But then I glance over at Parker; he’s beginning to snore. Yes, the night is well and truly over.

“I’ll walk you back.”

“You don’t-.”

“I’m walking you back.” I insist.

“Damn Prince Charmings.”

“We’re the worst.” I stand up and pull her to her feet. “Easy there.”

She rolls her eyes, “Don’t pretend you’re not drunk too.” She sticks out her tongue in the most adorable manner. “Goodnight Lieutenant, lovely to meet you.”

He just waves absently.

Kennedy and I are both laughing when we step out into the hall. Our security teams nod politely when we emerge. Kennedy sways as she walks down the hall, shoes in hand. “Thank you for escorting me home. You know the walk is so long, and dangerous.”

I nod solemnly, “There’s always these creepy guys in suits and aviators following you.”

She gasps theatrically, “Wait, really?”

I love seeing her like this, relaxed, languid and most importantly happy. We reach her door. Damn I don’t want to leave.

She turns towards me, her back to the closed door. “So, Lieutenant Lovell is nice.”

“He is.” I rock back and forth on my heels, very aware that the secret service is just twenty feet from us and watching.

“Wanna see a trick?” She asks, her eyes sparkling with trouble…and whiskey.

“Of course.”

She leans forward, then waves her hand at her agents who promptly move down the hall until they disappear. “Ta-da.”

“That might be my favorite trick.” I reply.

“Oh, I have better ones.”

Heat rushes through my body at her innuendo. I’m filled with thoughts, dirty, depraved but wonderful thoughts.

I bracket her against the door my hands on either side of her head. I lean down and press my lips to hers. I don’t start slow, no I want her and this first kiss is a symbol of my pent up feelings. I urge her lips to submit to mine wanting everything.

She acquiesces, her tongue tangling with mine. I smirk and go in deeper. She sighs and meets me for every stroke of my tongue with hers. She tastes like whiskey and honeyed caramel. I move forward, pinning her to the door.

Her arms wrap around my shoulders bringing me close. Her body pressed against mine. I can feel her skin seeping through my skin shirt and her pert soft breasts. I moan, pressing forward to her most intimate place just slightly.

I’m rewarded with a gasp.

I pull my lips away from hers, running my tongue over the corner one last time. Her cheeks are tinted pink, her eyes glazed.  I run my lips along her jaw before tugging on her ear lobe. Her hips press closer to mine. Slowly I smile then place a hand on her chin forcing her to remain still. “Want to see my trick?”

Her chest rises and falls, but she nods.

I run my hand along her cheek before briefly dipping down to caress her throat. I tighten my hand over so slightly, forcing her head back just for a moment. Her hooded eyes meet mine and I look down. Her chest is thrust out, her body arched, desire personified.

My hand smooths down her skin, noticing the bumps of her collar bone, the pillowing hill of her breast the tautness of her stomach. Those aren’t my destination. No, I have a bigger prize.

Blood is roaring in my ears as I roughly hike up her skirt, moving the layered fabric out of my way.

Forcefully I pull her knee up and out. Then my fingers trace the delicate crease where her thigh meets her hips. I look up at her, locking eyes as I slide two fingers into her center. Her eyes widen on a moan. Fuck yeah.

She’s wet, slick beneath my fingers. I slide closer letting my thumb play with that tight bundle of nerves. She jerks and she tightens around me. “God, you’re wet Kennedy.”

She tips her head back, “Harry…”

Her breathless plea calls to something primal within me and I know I can’t, wouldn’t dream of denying anything that she would ask of me.

“I know, I know.” I pump my fingers in and out of her, twirling her clit. “I’ve got you.  Just don’t close your eyes. Look at me. Look at me while I have my fingers in you.”

She gasps whether at my words or actions I don’t know. All I know is that I want her to make that sound again. Her hand pulls my face towards her smashing her lips against mine. Her movements are frantic, rushed. Almost as much as mine.

“Can you take more?” I ask, my voice rough my breath fanning over her face. “Kennedy?”

I stop for a second. She whines, “Please.”

I smile, running my lips around her forehead, “Please what love?”

“I need…” She thrust her hips forward and then back. She does it again, grinding herself on my hand. Bloody hell that’s sexy.

“That’s it, love.” I bite her ear lobe. “Come on my fingers. I want it.”

She arches her back and I thrust in a third finger then put pressure on her sweet spot. She moans. “I’m close.”

“Come on Kennedy.” I feel her tighten around my fingers wishing to god it was my cock instead. She’s close, I swoop down and cover her exclamation with a kiss. Her fingers go rigid against my shoulders.

I feel her relax in my arms. Gently, I place a kiss on her nose, murmuring sweet nothings.

“Ahem.”

I freeze as does Kennedy. Carefully, I turn my shoulders shielding her from the person. Then make sure her skirt is covering her and my hand. Slowly I remove my hand.

Kennedy looks panicked, all traces of pleasure gone.

Then I turn to see who was there. Fuck.

It’s Paul. I’m not entirely sure what he does or who he is but I know Kennedy despises the man. He’s pointedly staring at Kennedy, ignoring me. “Miss Randolph, perhaps you should go inside.”

She nudges me back then glares at Paul. “Paul, go fuck yourself.” Then she places a quick kiss on my cheek. “Goodnight Harry.”

“Goodnight.”

She slips into the room leaving only Paul and I. At least we’re alone until my security reappears. I move to walk around Paul but he steps in my path. I raise my brow. “Something to say?”

“We would advise you to stay away from any members of the Randolph Administration.”

“Oh you would?” I step closer and lower my voice. The fucking coward won’t look me in the eyes at first. “I advise you to not spy on intimate moments between consenting adults. I don’t think that’s a story that needs to get out.”

He’s silent.

“And in the words of Miss Randolph, ‘Fuck you Paul.’” I hit my shoulder against his as I walk away.

AN: So...ummm yeah ;) Have a great day!