#drift all alone on his island playing sad songs on his guitar :(

[skimmingmilk]

How do you think Sharp and Sonic's relationship would be like, if/when they meet in the Sharp AU?

I love that I got two asks about Sharp and Sonic back to back xD You both were on the same wavelength when you sent these!

So I answered a bit about how Sonic would approach Sharp as a potential threat here.

In terms of how they'd actually get along? Better than Tails and Nine! I think once Sonic realized that Sharp's been helping Tails, he'd be just as friendly towards him as anyone else. He'd probably poke fun at how serious he is and that he needs to loosen up more, but Sharp would just look pointedly at Drift from No Place, then arch a silent brow as he stared at Sonic, daring him to suggest that again.

"I said 'loosen up more,' not lose your grip entirely..." (they're so mean, my boy Drift doesn't deserve this slander!)

At first Sharp judges Sonic hard. Like, this is the guy Tails looks up to and swears is his best friend and big brother? He's a joke. But luckily Sharp's not without a sense of humor, so he probably can't help but say snarky things in time with Sonic. He's not as playful, but Tails has brought that side of him out a bit more. Plus, they can both agree on being protective and making sure Tails isn't in danger. Sharp can respect and admire that Sonic will fight to protect his friends. That he actually has friends to protect.

Sonic also judges him a little, because this guy's been hanging around his little brother and apparently made everyone in his world mad at him, so is he that great of a guy for Tails to be around? But he can quickly tell that Tails basically has Sharp wrapped around his finger, so if anyone's in danger of being influenced by anyone, it's Sharp xD

Sonic can rely on Sharp to look after Tails while he looks after everyone else. Sonic's got his hands full with making sure Amy, Big, Knuckles, Rouge, and Shadow are all okay, so once he feels like he can trust Sharp, he can rest a bit easier knowing Tails has some back-up while he's trying to do his part to fix the Paradox Prism.

Sonic is pretty accepting of himself and comfortable with who he is as a person, and I think that would reflect in how he interacts with the other versions of himself. Except maybe Drift xD I think Sonic might think Drift is all the worst parts of him with none of the good to balance him out. He'd definitely take Sharp over Drift, lol.

[moonbaby26]

Title: New Day

(Chapter 15 of Doflamingo’s Marine Series)

*Crossposted to AO3 Here*

Chapter Pairings: Doflamingo x Reader

Chapter Warnings: language, non con, dubious consent, fingering, vaginal sex, anal sex, angst, references to past chapters’ physical abuse, toxic relationship

Chapter Synopsis: The day after your near fatal incident instigated by Sir Crocodile, the rumor mill is churning both within and outside the palace walls as everyone now tries to understand what you really are to Doflamingo. Everyone including the demon at the center of it all himself.

Chapters: 1,  2,  3,  4,  5,  6,  7,  8,  9,  10,  11,  12, 13, 14, 15, 16

——————————

—————————— 

It was a brand new morning. A beautiful day with the sun shining as the dark haired woman strode through the outdoor market. Even this early, music was already drifting from nearby, guitar strings were strumming as vendors finished setting up for their day.

Despite the rising tempo of that musician’s fingers over those strings, no one Viola saw was yet in a hurry. No one seemed nervous. She could hear laughter as people greeted one another, passing in the street. She could see their smiles.

This was her island and her people, briefly feeling to her as they always should have. 

The Donquixote soldiers that were meant to be acting as her guards, she’d ordered to stay as far back from her as possible.

They would not be ruining this rare taste of freedom for her as she did come upon an older man seated on a stool with a guitar. The origin of the sound she’d been hearing for several minutes on her morning walk as she nodded down to him.

“Good morning, Señor. That song you were playing, it’s a favorite of mine. I was hoping to meet you.” She complimented him.

“Ah, you’re too young to know it.” He paused, a little surprised at her attention. But smiling gently at her all the same. “My wife taught it to me years ago. She sang and I played back then.”

And the way he said this, with that brief look in his eyes as he did, she knew what he really meant. 

A wife that was no longer here. Someone that had been taken from him. But Viola still smiled softly. Because that sadness wasn’t an emotion she would want to truly lose. It was the shadow that love left behind. It was all they had left.

“My sister and I would attempt to sing that song.” She shared with him in return. “But she was the far better singer than me. She passed two years ago.”

This was the polite way people in Dressrosa referenced that tumultuous time, when hell had first opened its gates within their country.

And that devil’s sycophants were now the ones lingering, growing further impatient a few food stalls away.

But Doflamingo’s guards could wait. They could wait forever for all she cared.

“I suppose I haven’t tried much since then…to sing I mean. So would you play that song one more time please, Señor? It’s been so long. But today seems a bit special I think. I’d like to try to sing it again.” She told him.

And he laughed. “You young people and your romantic hearts! I’m sure you’ll be at the colosseum with all of the others today then? It seems quite fast doesn’t it? But I suppose no man wants to be alone forever. Even a king!” Yet he didn’t leave her time to agree or disagree, amused at her as he began strumming those opening chords once more.

A surprise announcement had come from the palace last night. Spreading quickly across the island all before midnight curfew.

This afternoon all were invited, or rather expected at the Corrida Colosseum. And the king himself would be in attendance. Unusual as of late, as he’d been devoting so much time to his growing underworld alone.

Those secret dealings seemingly his only focus all until that trip he’d taken to Mariejois, to the kingdom some called heaven. Something about a war on a distant island that he didn’t want the marines interceding in. Long enough ago now that Viola had gotten to bear witness to the accumulating changes in him every day since.

“In the heavens I would have power…” Viola’s voice began carefully, not fully out of tune. But certainly out of practice as she began the first verse in time with the man’s guitar.

And you, the marine woman that the officers’ whispers and minds had said Doflamingo had actually coveted for years, the one he’d first consummated with there at the home of the gods, would also be his official guest at the colosseum this evening.

Speculation was running wild through the citizens now of what this could all mean.

In the beginning Viola had not cared, except to pity you. She knew that all Doflamingo was was the thin skin of a man pulled tightly over the bones of a demon.

Yet an incident had occurred at the palace yesterday, enough to shake even her cynical heart.

“This night like the darkness within a well. With a knife made of moonlight I would cut the bars of your jail...” Her words kept on.

Doflamingo had kept her hidden away ever since your arrival. Yet more evidence that something may really be different here.

He didn’t want her to know his real plans for you. He didn’t want the two of you to meet.

Not yet.

“If I were the queen of the daylight, of the wind, and the sea, I would tie my own slave ropes in exchange for your freedom…”

The man who had never once hesitated to punish her by showing her the most grotesque and violent thoughts of what he’d like to do to new prey had suddenly been keeping everything to himself.

Why should it matter for her to know exactly how he wanted to break you? Rape you and defile you. Grind your will to dust, and then discard you once bored as he had to so many other men and women that had briefly caught his eye.

“Ay sorrow, little sorrow, sorrow of my heart…”

Doflamingo was a passionate man, even a romantic one in truth. But just at that most carnal level she had thought.

“I don’t wan’t flowers, money, or adulation.”

Violence, seduction, and jealousy were the only notes he excelled at within that complicated dance.

But yesterday there had been a culmination of tensions. Viola had been astonished to hear that panic going through the castle, to see it in so many anxious minds.

You had fought Trebol. You had fought Doflamingo himself.

And suicide is what that choice was, no matter the circumstances. Because it had never mattered to Doflamingo before whether or not someone was innocent. To go against the executives in any way, even in self defense, was absolute suicide. It was an attack on Doflamingo himself.

But maybe you weren’t the coward that she felt she was to hide amongst them. Maybe you had already refused her fate and chosen your own exit instead.

She would not have blamed you. 

Yet all evening she had stressed. Wondering how Doflamingo would cover up your death. But every moment that she still even remembered who you were had been equally confusing. 

Why hadn’t he at least brought you to Sugar?

But finally, late that night, something in her had insisted she show a bit of her own remnants of a spine. She had dared to use her sight to scan the palace for the king or yourself and learn the truth. She’d expected the worst. Your body torn apart, and new horrific tortures she’d never be able to unsee.

Yet that was not what she had found.

“I want you to let me cry for your sorrows, and to be at your side my dear, drinking the tears of your loneliness…”

Doflamingo was with you, yes. But not in one of the dungeons. Not with you screaming or begging for him to stop and to release you with death at last.

The Heavenly Demon had been curled around you in his own bed, clinging to you with a seeming level of anxiety she’d never witnessed in that creature before.

He had been watching you as you slept, a stricken look on his face.

“My eyes hurt because I look without seeing you…”

And this was the real reason Viola now spun, unable to stop from finally dancing a bit as well in the continued rhythm of that man’s guitar.

“Sorrow of my heart that flows within my veins, with the strength of a hurricane…”

Doflamingo was afraid.

“Sorrow, the same as a cloud of darkness and flint. A runaway colt that knows not where it goes…” 

Doflamingo had a weakness at last.

“It’s a desert of sand, sorrow, it’s my glory in a jail. Ay, jail! Ay sorrow! Little sorrow…”

And it was a woman.

Viola had decided that she would do everything in her power to further your influence now.

She would force herself to live long enough to see if this little crack in him could spread.

A new opening in his blackened heart that may one day be big enough to force her dagger through.

——————————— 

Last night Doflamingo had remained strange. Mostly silent as his focus stayed split between his real body and what you assumed was the string clone still working for him somewhere else in the castle.

After making you eat, there had been that brief feel of tenderness though as you’d both undressed and he’d brought you into his shower.

The same powder of glass that’d still been in your hair from the fight, he’d then helped you to wash clean. 

That and Trebol’s remaining mucus too. The warlord had kept you from losing your balance on your still weak legs, standing in the water’s spray with you as you’d scrubbed off the last of that residue.

You’d felt his cock against you too, half hard again without either of you even speaking to one another. But he hadn’t fucked you. 

After drying back off, drinking, and eating more of the food his servants brought, you’d then fallen asleep nude in his bed even before the sun had set.

At times last night you’d felt his movements beside you. But he still didn’t talk. He didn’t make you open your eyes and interact with him.

And you were fine with that.

He’d already hurt you enough for one day. You’d had nothing else you wanted to give him as you’d kept up the imitation of sleep while he’d held you tightly.

The same as he still was now as you finally did look to the ceiling again. Just the faintest bit of new sunlight was escaping the edges of his closed curtains.

It remained dim here within his bedroom, cave like really as you felt his steady breathing against your skin. His face buried against your neck, his arms wrapped around your torso, and his legs curled up to trap your own.

But your body still ached. Now with those newest additions of a severely bruised sternum and ribs to match from you taking his hits nearly full on yesterday without armament.

He’d never given any further apology either. And the more you’d thought of even that briefest one, you’d realized it was only a-

Sorry I misread that situation.

Sorry their mistakes made me do that. 

Not actual self-accountability. Not even a hint that he wouldn’t do it all again if fed bad information once more.

And you were stuck still reliving it. Hearing the door rip apart, and the glass break as he came for you, The pain when he threw you down and the pressure when you couldn’t breathe.

But that would fade as the bruises did. You knew in time you’d move on from that. Just like anytime you’d been hurt in the field, anytime you’d been knocked down before.

The thing you couldn’t shake as cleanly was how much it hurt inside as well this time. Because it wasn’t just physical pain any longer.

It’d hurt to look up at the man you still wanted as they’d started to crush your chest in.

That was a torture that should never happen to anyone.

But something touched your face and you startled from your spiraling thoughts.

Your head turned and you saw a crimson eye narrowed at you. The milky white one beside it still mostly closed against your shoulder as the pad of his finger wiped your newly wet cheek.

“Are you ever going to stop crying?” Doflamingo’s voice asked so abruptly then. Deep, but quiet in its continued proximity to you.

“I didn’t know that I was.” You answered honestly, caught off guard and letting the heel of your hand wipe the rest of that dampness away as you looked back to the ceiling.

He made a noise in response. Dismissive, but you could still feel his gaze on you.

“What’s done is done. It’s over.” He said next, making the easy assumption of what still had you rattled. And that bit of irritation was resuming in him already because of it.

But he didn’t know the real extent. You were sure that he didn’t.

“Sorry.” You were the one to say that useless word then. But you were just trying to end the subject. Trying to make him stop.

“You’re not.” He contended. 

And your eyes did look back to him then. Fresh concern in your expression no doubt.

But you felt him just stretching his legs back out. His cock was soft, but it grazed you as he adjusted his hips. He was laying on his side with his body pressed to you so firmly still.

“What more do you want from me?” He spoke against your ear now. As if you were the one still being unreasonable. “I didn’t even maim you. What do you think I would have done to any other person on this island that took matters into their own hands as you did? Regardless of why.” He said next. His hand was sliding across your stomach now.

But his fingers just kept moving lower before you could answer. The longest finger, his middle one, parted your slit in one smooth movement to begin rubbing your clit.

And just like that it was all about what your body could give him again. 

Whether you were ready for this or not.

And apparently you were not. Not as you heard your own voice so suddenly, firing back at him. “Well…did you fuck me yesterday morning too? Because that didn’t help! I woke up with strangers in the room, and then had that running down my leg. It could have been anyone!” 

You’d taken that disgust out on Trebol too you were sure. Everything was connected in this continued trauma. 

The movement of Doflamingo’s finger paused at your outburst. 

That red eye stared at you, sharp and narrowed as he lifted his head again.

“Watch your tone with me, woman.”

Two of his fingers pushed right into your entrance then with that warning. He hooked those fingers actually, the pressure making your expression change.

“Doffy,” You grunted because it hurt.

It was meant to hurt.

“Of course I fucked you. And I don’t care if you could feel it or not. If you could remember it or not. I need you, you stupid bitch.” He answered though, with that tone of hatefulness reemerging all over again. 

But you were watching his face. 

You saw when he swallowed. When the contempt began to change to a more general upset the more aroused he became. “I can’t stop. Not when you’re the only thing that feels right.”

And there was the additional cruelty of his own inconsistent feelings. 

He’d berate you. He’d hurt you, and in the very next breath he’d practically infer that he couldn’t exist without you.

His lips were on your jaw then too. You felt his tongue ghost against your skin.

His teeth nipped that same skin. “So quit acting like you don’t understand. Like you don’t want me too…you need this. You need me.”

The two fingers inside of you were now beginning to slide in and out. They pumped into you as his tongue stretched out further this time, leaving a long wet streak across the side of your face.

“But if you really are so offended…then do something about it. Punish me. Make me feel it. Fuck me back.” He taunted next.

“What?” You breathed, at a frustrating loss for his exact meaning while his fingers continued mercilessly. The way he’d said this gave away that it was now something different he was asking for.

“I’ll let you. I’d do that for you.” He grunted, his hips shifting suddenly as you now felt the tip of that awakened cock rubbing against you.

“I don’t…I don’t know what you’re talking about.” And the words were already getting harder to say. 

Harder to think of as you felt yourself getting wetter for him regardless. His fingers moving in and out so much easier now.

“Your cunt wants a break doesn’t it?” His crudeness continued. “Your ass too after what I did to you, right? I fucked you so hard when I was in there the other night, didn’t I?”

And you were feeling more heat inside of you with every insulting word. 

But he was starting to smile again. He looked so hungry actually. “Then do it to me. I’ll show you how.”

His thumb was back over your clit, working it in tandem to his fingers now quickening their already rough pace inside.

“Cum for me, and then I’ll let you fuck me. We’re both going to feel good today after the shit we got put through. We deserve this.”

Oh, so now you were a team all of the sudden? As if the power imbalance here wasn’t still so extreme.

But it didn’t matter.

Not when Doflamingo’s tongue was now forcing its way past your teeth.

You heard and felt him moan into your mouth. It was so dirty. So unrestrained really as your thighs opened up even more for him.

You were both disgustingly pathetic. 

And the wet sound of his fingers in and out of you only made everything that much worse as you started clenching around his fingers.

That tension was building in your belly.

“Cum for me…let go. You’re so close already aren’t you, love?” He broke the kiss enough to say this against your mouth. Right before he nipped your bottom lip.

The sharp little pain was almost simultaneous to that whip like feel. Like a tightening rope finally snapping inside as you felt your body tremble and hot fluid wash over his fingers.

Doflamingo inhaled sharply, looking down at the unexpected mess that had made.

The humiliation you felt was instant, but the remnants of the full body orgasm he’d just given you weren’t easily dismissed either.

You were panting.

And you heard him laugh. He laughed before his face was then nuzzling back into yours.

“I guess I should have let you take a piss before we started, huh?”

It wasn’t excessive. But it was well enough for you both to know that couldn’t all be female ejaculate. Enough to make a wet spot you could now feel beneath you on the bed.

“Asshole.” You muttered, even with his face still warmly against yours.

“It means I fucking rocked that sweet spot, didn’t I, marine?” He sounded all too smug in response. And even more flirty too as he kissed the side of your face. “Don’t be embarrassed, lover…even though you’re goddamn cute when you are. We’re not done yet anyway. Now it’s my turn.”

His grin widened too then as his fingers finally slid back out of you. He just wiped that hand on the dryer portion of the bedsheets before he flung the blankets fully away to better expose himself to you.

Doflamingo let go of you to move onto his back, propping himself into the pillows and looking so comfortable then before he motioned to the nightstand.

“Be a good, wet girl for me then, and crawl over there to get the biggest one so we can play some more. It’s all or nothing for me.” And he sounded like he was goddamn bragging. Bragging and commanding you all at once as your mind had yet to fully accept what was now happening here.

You were still trying to process the orgasm that had made your legs feel like jelly all over again.

What in the fuck was your actual life in this moment as you did crawl across the mattress eventually, then on your knees at its edge before you could reach the drawer of his nightstand and pull it open.

Which was a sight that really should not have been meant for your naive eyes. There were toys in there that you didn’t even know the use of. Intimidating things you were afraid to even goddamn touch as you peered down into that private stash. 

Packs of condoms were there too, different kinds of lubes, and more…pills? They weren’t the same shape or color as the ones you’d taken before. They were in a clear bag, beside another bag with some kind of white powder inside of it.

The fuck was that?

You did not want to reach your hand in.

“Just grab a dildo, woman. This doesn’t have to be complicated.” Doflamingo chided. A little louder then, getting more impatient.

And you did have to force yourself. Pushing the unknown things out of the way to sort through some of the more familiar looking style of toys.

You pulled one out that seemed to be the largest like he’d requested, and it looked entirely painful by your personal standards. Bigger than any of those he’d used on you the other night. But honestly, very close to his own physical size once you glanced back at him with the toy in your hand.

“That’ll do.” He smirked. “I couldn’t remember how many I still had in there.” 

And he settled back even further into the pillows, putting his arms briefly behind his head as he began spreading his legs.

“Don’t worry about lube, beautiful…let me see you use that mouth of yours instead.”

“What?” You stared. 

His always impressive cock was flushed with blood by this point, hard for this long already without any relief. Rising up from that fine blond pubic hair and pointing firmly towards the ceiling as he held his thighs open shamelessly to show you it all. 

One of his hands did move back down, lifting his own sack off of the mattress as he began to palm it.

“Suck the toy, marine. Deep throat that if you can. I want it good and wet before I show you how to really take it.”

But you didn’t want to. Your hesitation clearly said as much.

And his reactions were becoming that much sharper in response.

“Oh goddamn it, don’t be so high maintenance. Anything in that drawer was already washed. It’s clean.”

Your eyebrows still lowered. Yes, even you knew how arbitrary it seemed on the things you would finally resist him on. 

But the way he was leering at you, the way his legs were spread eagle and waiting like you owed him this. This wasn’t even an experience you had had before.

And something about it made you feel more like a whore than ever.

“What is wrong with you?” Came his exasperated tone next when you still hadn’t put that dildo in your mouth.

And your shoulders sank. He was on that edge of getting angry all over again. 

“If you fucking cry one more time…” He still fussed as your posture had changed however. That blood vessel starting to show in his forehead. “I already said I was sorry, (Y/N)!”

That damn word again. But it sounded so petulant this time.

So desperate.

“Just give me that, you idiot.” And a string had jerked the dildo from your hand. Pulling it away from you and into his grip instead as his tongue angrily ran out to run the length of it.

He put the whole thing in his own mouth soon after even as he glared at you.

Spit edged from his lips as he began to suck it. 

You were of course stunned once more. Discomfort still there for you too as you watched this inexplicable scene while Doflamingo’s cheeks hollowed out with that purposeful sucking. And he didn’t choke at all, nearly the full length of the toy then within his mouth as he pumped it in and out briefly while watching you spitefully.

When he did pull it all the way out again, spit was fully down his chin and soaked across that toy.

He did not care.

“That’s how it’s fucking done.” He growled, but still not looking away from your face. “Get over here. Now.”

And you did comply again then. But with that unwillingness still in your expression as you crawled back to him on the bed.

As soon as you were close enough though, his hand that was not holding the toy shot up to catch you by your throat.

You made a defensive sound and he smirked as he felt the resistance of your armament already beneath his squeezing hand.

“Why does everything have to be this difficult lately? I thought we were having fun.” He lamented, actually unable to make you choke that easily in how strongly your armament was then shielding you. You weren’t as weak as you’d been yesterday.

And he sighed when you still wouldn’t submit to this even rougher play. But he smiled again as he let you go just as abruptly. He finally used the back of his hand to wipe his chin then.

“I just want you to fuck me, lover…I don’t take rejection well you know. You’re hesitating too much. You’re hurting my feelings.”

The last words were said mockingly. But he was still goddamn insane, as usual. Just jumping from one emotion to the next. Had either of you even been awake long enough yet to already be going through all of this?

You took a deep breath. “I’m not rejecting you, Doffy. I’m just-“ Overwhelmed? Depressed? Traumatized?

“I just want things not to hurt. I don’t want anything else to hurt right now.” You managed, but still feeling at a complete loss of how to make someone like him understand any of this if even for a moment. 

And the responding coldness in his eyes was far from comforting as he grabbed your wrist this time, bringing you onto his lap to straddle him.

“But life is pain. So why ask me for the impossible?” His tone was still short, but his volume did quiet as he held you there. 

With you there between his legs, he brought that still wet dildo down between you both. He inhaled, letting your wrist go as he reached to grab himself again. He was then holding his own balls up and out of the way as he moved that toy beneath them.

He still spoke to you as he did, his eyes on yours as he angled it against his own opening that you could not see. “The important thing is that we can now hurt together. You have me. And I’m showing you my pain too, aren’t I? I’m letting you in.”

And he groaned a little, you getting to see that true discomfort move across his face as the tip first entered him.

You were silent as Doflamingo breathed deeper, him pausing as if to adjust to even that much of it inside of him.

“Damn. It really has been a while...” He said, like he was a bit taken aback himself at the new feeling.

But with it now started, his large hand moved back over your wrist.

His grip was warm, and far more gentle this time as he guided your hand to the base of that toy.

“I want it to be you.” He breathed again. There was no mask of a smile any longer. Just this man looking up at you needfully, anxiously even as he made your hand close around the toy. “Push it in, love. Fast or slow…whatever feels right to you. I trust your judgement…please.”

And even if you were sure that every new word of his was fully intended to make you have the exact reaction that you now were, this still wasn’t something you could control.

You felt the new heat in your chest as his tone had changed. You were embarrassed again. It felt like you’d never even had sex before all of the sudden.

And of course you hadn’t like this. Not with the roles reversed this way.

You knew what it felt like for you though, to have that pressure just edging your entrance. The longer you made him wait, the less kind that would be, wouldn’t it?

Oh, you were so in over your head though. Yourself flustered and him still never looking away from you as you finally did start to push it in him.

Doflamingo gasped quietly, his lips parting in a way that immediately had you feeling some kind of way between your own legs again.

Your body was fully confused in this moment actually. 

But his wasn’t. You saw his abdominal muscles tense and even his cock twitch as you still slid that thick toy gradually deeper inside of this man.

The resistance was weird, but you could tell he was relaxing as much as he could. You were being so mindful of his expressions too. Even pausing to let him adjust again whenever you’d see that brief flit of pain reenter his eyes.

And something about that level of care from you did bring a rare softer look across his attractive face. “I knew it…” He chuckled despite himself. “If you had a dick, you’d be so gentle with it at first. Wouldn’t you, my love? So responsible with your weapons.”

He was smiling again then, a fully pleasured one before he let out a small moan when you did continue pressing in again.

“Almost flush…come on.” He said next. His eyes were going half lidded too. A near look of adoration in them now for you. “It feels so good, woman…don’t stop.”

It was hard to look away from those rare emotions either, you not wanting to miss out on any of what he was now offering you in return.

But you also found yourself uneasy to finally realize that all of that toy but the bit you were still holding onto had now disappeared.

It was all the way in. He’d really taken it so well.

And he was still laying on his back beneath you, thighs spread wantonly with his head and shoulders just barely propped up in the pillows as a new urge overcame you.

You left the toy fully in him as you moved back up that long torso of his just enough to kiss him again.

And this surprised him. Likely so much of his focus already just on that sensation of being filled, waiting for you to start thrusting before your mouth was abruptly over his.

But he certainly didn’t stop you. Far from it as his mouth opened in return, wanting to taste you again immediately as you felt his hips roll. His hand grabbed into your hair to hold you to him long enough to deepen that kiss as well.

“Oh, fuck,” Doflamingo breathed against your lips in between kisses, nipping them briefly again when he didn’t want to let go of you. “You don’t know what you do to me…no one…they didn’t do it like this.”

And he wasn’t even making sense now. 

But he was trying to.

So you did pull back a little, your hand then stroking down his chest as you listened to him.

And even that additional soft touch set him off too. His hips rolled hard again as he looked at you desperately. “Why…why are you like this? Why are you so good to me?” He managed, finally articulating what he really meant with the last words. “Why are you so kind to me?”

Of course that question stunned you all over again. But not just for hearing it from his mouth. Because you weren’t sure how he’d even come to that conclusion, and right now of all times.

“I…what did I do?” You asked genuinely, letting him begin kissing your jawline again when you hadn’t yet moved back fully away yet.

“This. Goddamnit all of this.” His frustration was palpable. But he didn’t want to stop. “You…you don’t just fuck me. You kiss me…you hold me. You pet me…it drives me fucking crazy.”

Really? Just because of those simple things?

Your own surprise was surely evident. In all the bodies he must have partaken of through the years, you were somehow a standout?

And for what?

Just for being intimate with him? For giving instead of just taking or cowering?

“Doffy…don’t you get it?” You asked him suddenly then. Your hand was still warm over his chest. You had paused your palm there as you could feel his heartbeat beneath his muscles. That beat was growing faster. “I give you what I would want. I mean…why wouldn’t I do that?”

And his hand moved over yours against his chest. He squeezed your hand, very tightly but not quite painful.

He smirked darkly. “You…are either the best or the worst thing that has ever happened to me in this hellhole.” But his hips moved again as that laugh of his emanated out. “So fuck me like you love me. Finish me properly.“

Almost gently he pushed you back then, back down to sit near his open legs again as he put your hand back on the end of that toy.

It was clear what he wanted most now, rolling his hips again as he watched you needfully. 

And so you did it. No more stalling as you gave your monster what he wanted. Thrusting that toy at whatever speed he would take.

First slow, and then faster as you got to watch the king of Dressrosa begin to fully unravel for you. 

But you felt no guilt. Nor did he want you to. Doflamingo’s approval was clear in the way he threw his head back and even arched against the mattress the more you pressed.

“Fuck…yes, it’s been too long…yes, just like that…” He moaned as those claws of his began fisting into the bedsheet. 

And before long it was your own name repeatedly leaving his panting chest.

You would have been lying to say it wasn’t making new slick between your own legs to hear his normally prideful voice start to break for you that way too.

But you were still more focused on what you were doing to him. Not what it was causing in you as his eyes met yours again.

“Harder…I know you can. Please, (Y/N).” He was already speaking in gasps now. But you still obliged, feeling like you were holding a damn dagger by this point.

Being told to stab it into him over and over, working your wrist and your arm to do so.

His poor cock looked to be painful by now as well as it bobbed in the air with the continued movement of his hips, nothing to thrust into as it leaked precum all over the head.

And in all of his panting and the increasing volume of your name across his lips like some kind of prayer, the thought did finally cross your mind to do something with that neglected cock.

He didn’t deserve it of course. Not after all he’d already done to you. You’d just told him how messed up it’d been that he’d still fucked you when you were blacked out too. You’d told him you wanted a break from hurting. 

But his moans kept on. This shameless motherfucker who could abuse you so thoroughly, and then turn around the very next day and gladly put on a vulnerable display like this.

Your own renewed slick was now thick enough to actually begin edging out. Gravity bringing a hint of it onto your thigh in the way you were currently positioned as your hand still moved to keep fucking Doflamingo.

You didn’t want to get pounded by him yet. You really didn’t as your body was still very unhappy in all the damage it had accumulated recently.

But just being filled yourself for a moment? You could tolerate that couldn’t you? He wasn’t going to be lasting much longer anyway. The changing rhythm of his panting always gave him away when he was already this near climax.

What would his face be if you did this though? Would that expression be worth any additional price you were about to pay?

His eyes were closed now, he was living for those sensations you were rocking through his body as his hips moved in time with your non stop thrusting of that toy. 

Which made it trickier. Keeping your hand and arm movement going, thankfully with some marine stamina to help you out there as you raised up onto your spread knees.

Just open enough to fit him between your thighs of course.

And the mattress movement as you shifted wasn’t enough to warn him. Even if it was, he likely thought you were only trying to find a more comfortable way to sit.

He couldn’t know anything was actually different until he’d felt the first touch of something against the tip of his weeping cock.

But by the time his eyes had opened, your slick had made that initial push all too easy. Just that brief spike of pressure to clear the head, and that small gasp of pain from you before you had slid down onto as much of his length as you could take.

Your channel squeezed around him immediately as his girth stretched you painfully as always, tight to the point of almost being too much to withstand.

And the absolutely awestruck look on Doflamingo’s face as he fully realized what you’d just done, without even being asked to, was an expression you doubted you’d ever see from him again. He nearly came right then and there with that surprise you were sure.

Only you stopping your thrusting of the toy briefly then as you’d tried to adjust to him inside of you had allowed him that extra time to process this.

You were still having to hold yourself up a little as well, not wanting to put too much pressure against your cervix as you watched the man beneath you try to remember his own voice. 

You had rendered the Heavenly Demon speechless. Though his hands wasted no time finding your hips, helping you steady yourself on his length.

Reflexively you tightened on him again and you felt his cock twitch inside of you in response.

He took another shaky breath, still staring at you like you weren’t even human any longer. Like you had materialized straight from the heavens to anoint him with this dual pleasure.

“Let go of the toy,” his voice was practically a rasp when it finally did reemerge. “I’ll move it. You just sit there and stay tight on me…god, gods I can’t…I…fuck I love you. I love you so fucking much.”

And he sounded like he was pleading, or dying. Like you were actually killing part of this man.

But you saw his fingers move. You were getting better at seeing his strings too. The tiny glimmers they made even here in the shadows of those still closed curtains.

His strings were now hooked to the toy. He was going to fuck himself while you took care of his cock in the way only you could.

And once that did restart, with the toy moving in and out with his strings and you rocking your hips and squeezing around his attention starved shaft simultaneously, Doflamingo let out a euphoric moan louder than any before it. One they had to have heard all the way downstairs.

And it was your name he was calling out to the world. 

Like a curse and a salvation for him all at once. It was a fucking scream as he finally came.

He was shuddering, thrusting up into you as you felt his cock pulse again and again. Each pump a shot full of his seed, hot and purposeful.

“Yes…goddamn yes,” he was still panting, still trembling as he pulled you down onto his body. His cock continuing to empty itself inside of you as he held you to him.

And you let him do it. You breathed with him, the heat of that fire between you both so apparent again.

It had become make up sex with a king. Reconciliation with your warlord as one of his hands moved back into your hair and the other went protectively across your back.

He was caging you to him as his chest rose and fell. And you closed your eyes in that warmth, silent again just to hear him breathing. 

You did love this part of it. You really did.

If only it was enough to ever outweigh every other fault in you both.

—————————

He’d let the servants open the curtains at last while they’d delivered breakfast at his command. This new sunlight filling the dining area not being something he’d normally ask for. He usually liked it cooler, darker in here within his chambers. A less stimulating environment when he needed that to withdraw to.

But he wanted to see you better this morning. He wanted to appreciate what was still fully novel to him as you sat near him. Just the two of you sharing a quiet breakfast at the long table in his suite.

He’d only pulled on a pair of pants. Shirtless and barefoot, blond hair not even combed yet as he ate while watching you.

Sex always made him hungry. And he knew you were still working from a caloric deficit anyway. He’d figured out already that you ate less and less the more stressed you were.

Like bringing home an exotic pet, he had to learn your environmental quirks. He had to force you to stay healthy enough to survive after all of his personal investment already in you.

And he’d known there’d be an adjustment period. Some violence surely if you were pushed too far, too fast.

But Crocodile had thrown fuel on that fire. And it’d nearly worked. Just like everything that reptile did. The plan was almost good enough, but fell short in the final leg. A stumble right at the finish line.

He hadn’t even called Crocodile yet either. Though Doflamingo’s mind had churned with so many thoughts of revenge and how close he’d really come to losing you. Painfully angry even long into last night as he’d lain awake holding you while thinking of how to fix this.

That sandy fucker had no right to toy with him now. And just like in Scylla, when Doflamingo had had to abruptly pivot, deciding to bring you home then and there after Crocodile’s attack, he’d felt his hand being forced yet again now.

He had to let his enemies know there was no indecisiveness in him. You weren’t just a new distraction they may be able to harm and thereby simply annoy him or force him to negotiate for. 

This wasn’t him just taking a new mistress for fun. This was him setting up the future that he wanted. You were his family now.

And he was going to let the world know. Then if anyone still dared to come for you, they’d have to do so in full knowledge of the scorched earth that would bring them.

No one harmed his family.

“After we eat, I do have some more things to take care of this morning. But I need you dressed in your best marine garb for this afternoon. I’m taking you to the colosseum then. And I’m expecting practically every seat to be filled there. Diamante is quite the promoter for special events like this.”

The piece of potato omelette still on your fork held there for a moment as you glanced over to him. You so casual yourself in some faded marine training shirt, the material thinned enough that he had been enjoying you clearly being braless beneath it.

“To fight?” You asked surprisingly serious.

Enough so that he scoffed, rolling his uncovered eyes at you. You were still an idiot at times. Still a human after all. “To spectate, darling.” Not that the idea of you fully healed, running around the arena breaking jaws with your kicks and slitting throats with that rope dart of yours wasn’t a very strong turn on in its own right.

There weren’t many female gladiators. The public would eat that shit up if you could be flashy enough about it. You were a bit serious when you fought right now.

Maybe after the child came. You’d probably be itching by then for some postpartum violence and a return to form.

You were a warrior after all.

“We’ve fallen off of the front page again in the papers if you hadn’t noticed. I think it’s time for another public appearance.”

“Why would I want to be in the newspaper? Fuck that.” And you did start eating your omelette again then.

It was obvious the drugs were back out of your system at least. Those pills had dulled you so much yesterday. Your attitude was back in full force today.

But he was in a good mood now. Getting to penetrate you while you penetrated him was an itch he had not expected to be so thoroughly scratched this morning. That had been fucking paradise actually. “Because you want to help our dear mother, don’t you?” Doflamingo taunted, smirking in full knowledge of how much this was going to push your buttons.

And you stilled again, giving him a colder look immediately there. “Tsuru?” You still had to ask.

“Obviously.” He confirmed. “I mean, you’re not fully stupid I know.” He was just being a dick for the sake of it now. He was enjoying every additional interaction with you actually. “Haven’t you wondered why she’s been stationed on the same pitiful island chain for weeks upon weeks now? A strategist like her should have had that rebellion extinguished in days.”

“Have you had your hand in it?” You accused abruptly then.

And he was honestly a little surprised at that. But you were still learning him too. He could forgive it for now. He had obviously benefited by her being away there for so long too. Those circumstances alone had practically dropped you into his lap.

“I don’t interfere with Tsuru-san. Not as Joker, not as me. No, I cut all ties with Lyra as soon as she got assigned there. I’m not the one delaying her.” He said honestly, even through the remaining skepticism in your eyes.

“It’s the world government that decided to bury that place, long and slow with blockades she’s been ordered to maintain. And Big News Morgans has started snooping around about it. So many have died. He’ll drag Tsuru’s name through the mud too if he doesn’t have a better story to sell papers with soon. So you and I can be that story and save her the defamation.”

“How many have died?” You were starting to look more bothered. You were realizing you may actually believe him.

As you should, because he was telling the goddamn truth for once. “Probably a good thirty percent of the total population. But nearer fifty, even sixty percent in certain towns. Because the government is also using that rebellion as the perfect testing ground for some new lab grown diseases of theirs. With Tsuru maintaining their blockade, there’s no medical assistance in or out either. No one to tell on them of how unnatural that contagion really is.”

“Then how would you know?” You were still trying to hope he could be wrong.

And there he did grin again, smugly as his legs spread a little once more beneath the table.

“Lover, have you already forgotten what exactly it is I do for a living? I’m not just your personal cock toy…though I am enjoying the benefits of that new role.”

“Then is Tsuru okay…is my crew okay?”

Oh how sad. Like a puppy missing its littermates. “Of course she’s fine. The government didn’t allow the marines to enter any of the diseased towns either. They’ve got Cipher Pol quarantining those. Your little troop has been spending all their time stopping blockade runners and sniping the surviving rebels in the mountains.”

But he saw the way you still didn’t look satisfied. “Why didn’t she tell me…she never said it was that bad.”

“You know how she is. She probably thought you had enough on your plate. Namely…me.” He smiled again.

“I should be with them.” And it was like you were talking to yourself then. The new guilt in your expression was obvious.

But finally here, he did feel that bit of irritation trying to start in him again. Yes, he knew how attached you must still be to your crew. Tsuru had saved you. No different than him pulling Baby 5, Monet, and Sugar from poverty and what would have only been a life of sexual abuse mixed with the constant threat of starvation for those girls otherwise.

And had never touched them. He would never dream of it in that context. They were family.

He could do these things to you though, because he’d seen you as a potential mate even from first sight.

They were like little sisters to him. But you were not. Even if he may tease you as such, with Tsuru as the common maternal thread between you.

“They’re fine without you.” He said carefully. Actually trying not to let his jealousy fully burst out. He didn’t want this good mood ended already. “I need you here.”

And it was intentional, the way he moved with his long arm easily reaching out for his hand to close over yours on top of the table.

“Like I said, we can help Tsuru-san here by being a good distraction. So she doesn’t have to deal with public accusations of mass murder that she has zero control over. I know she’s still been letting some medicine and food get through in secret anyway. She’s doing the best she can while still playing by the government’s rules on the surface. That woman is incorruptible. As always.”

And you still looked sad. Annoying to him really when he was right here in front of you, giving you his full attention this way. He wanted your mind on this feeling between the two of you instead, thinking of him alone. 

“(Y/N).” He said, relaxing his eyes as best he could. Emoting as best he could to regain your focus. “I need you.” He reiterated, even more intentional this time. Even more heartfelt he supposed it would be called. A skill that could be practiced and honed like any other tool in his manipulations of course. “This is your home now. With me.”

——————————

Your hands were in the pockets of your marine coat, intentionally so he could not hold either of them as your boot heels clicked on the stone streets.

What were you supposed to do? Doflamingo would have pulled you out here on his strings anyway if you hadn’t come willingly.

He wouldn’t have allowed their group to be humiliated by a no show when Diamante had already promised the public an appearance from you both this afternoon.

But you still didn’t buy any of his shit about this being a performance for Tsuru’s sake. Though you were now worrying for her and your crew still as you did your best to keep a neutral expression.

The Donquixote foot soldiers were keeping the curious onlookers at bay as you walked with Doflamingo towards the Corrida Colosseum.

Reporters had remained on the island, hoping for this very thing as cameras now flashed again and questions were yelled out to you both here and there.

For now the warlord was ignoring them though. Those red sunglasses rarely looked away from you.

“You know it’s a bit insulting for you to still be wearing that weapon when we’re out together.” Doflamingo said then, but that amusement so clear in his tone. “I’m all the weapon you need you know…”

Unless the civilians were excellent lip readers, they wouldn’t know what kind of small talk was really occurring here in the other noise of the crowd. And you were still so cognizant of everything you did with your own body language as you kept your eyes on the street ahead and where you were walking.

“If I’d had my weapon on in Scylla I wouldn’t have to still be dealing with this failed amputation.” You replied dryly. That swordsman never would have been so lucky if you just could have disarmed him with a haki infused rope and strangled him until he confessed who he was really working for.

“You left my side that night, darling. That was your own fault.” Doflamingo still chided though. Followed with a taunting, “But you’re barely limping today. Perhaps they won’t even notice with your legs covered this way. Does it still ache?”

You had chosen to wear leggings beneath your skirt this time. Covering the wound and all those bruises. “It hurts like fuck, you ass.” You said lowly.

And he almost cackled at the abruptness of that. 

So much so that you finally did look up at him in mild surprise.

“Didn’t Tsuru ever try to wash out that filthy mouth?” He practically cooed afterward.

Only then as you saw some young women giggling and blushing in your peripheral vision did you realize that to everyone else’s eyes this must look like real flirting, like familiarity already.

His attention was so clearly on you, the tall man walking fully at your side to better interact. Not even in front of you this time to lead. And him then laughing and smiling as if you’d said something endearing. 

Prince charming is who they somehow still thought he was, a fairytale come to life right before their eyes. They had no understanding of what lay behind it at all.

But you couldn’t judge their ignorance. Not when you knew so much more and were still right here beside him.

This very same man that had shown you the edge of death yesterday. And the same man you’d willingly climbed on top of this morning to briefly ride the cock of as he screamed out your name.

What a cursed pair the two of you were.

And he actually looked happy about it, proud even.

This bastard was out here living his best life while you were trying not to have another breakdown. 

Yes, what a complete shitshow this really was.

———————————

There had been lines all the way down the street just for admittance today. And it was even more of a madhouse once they’d gotten inside. This former gladiator knew the corridors well here however, holding the young girl’s hand firmly as he hopped at her side.

“Please stay close. Keep your face covered.” He reminded her yet again as he saw her getting distracted in all the spectacle.

“It’s hot, and I don’t like this on my face.” She still complained though, looking back down at him with her small voice almost lost in all the boisterous conversations around them.

“We’re only staying long enough to see what all this fuss is about. Then we’ll be going home.” Home being only the latest abandoned hovel that no one would search for her in. He hadn’t been able to convince Rebecca to stay there today while he made this rarer trip to the city.

But, it also hadn’t taken much of her arguing with him either really. The little tin soldier was still afraid to leave his young daughter alone out there in the countryside for long.

The girl who didn’t even know she had a father any longer while he kept tightly with her on their way to the public seating.

The sheer number of people here made her being recognized rather unlikely. But it was always a risk. So he’d made her tie a scarf around her face. Just below her wide and anxious eyes as inconsiderate adults bumped her this way and that in the crowd.

Kyros had to restrain himself not to say anything on her behalf. Knowing a normal toy would never make such a spectacle against humans.

He needed to remain focused as well. All the top members of the Donquixote family were now in attendance. 

His contact from the Tontattas had confirmed this. Even as the dwarves had been equally excitable with the fact that they had indeed still seen you alive this morning.

Details of yesterday had been rather spotty with the dwarves intense fear of Doflamingo making them rather unwilling to visit the palace for long. And certainly never letting themselves become trapped in the same room with him.

But Kyros understood there had been some sort of fight yesterday. That you had stood up to Trebol to break his nose even. A wound that executive still had bandaged today in fact.

It was truly unheard of.

So of course the dwarves and their optimistic hearts were already whispering of miracles.

They said Doflamingo had spared you out of affection.

Everything was always face value to them until brutally proven otherwise.

But Kyros had been in the throne room that first night of the invasion. He’d seen the truly pleasured smile on that animal’s face as King Riku had kneeled broken before him. While the former king had begged before that monster for mercy that Dressrosa would never see.

The little tin soldier could not fathom any love ever existing within such a wicked man.

Doflamingo was but a conqueror thirsting for more every moment, every second. More power, more control, more blood, and more suffering.

He was a beast that must be slayed for any of them to ever know freedom again.

So Kyros had come to witness this new lie with his own metal eyes. Because the Tontattas were surely misconstruing it somehow.

They thought you must have some special power over even Doflamingo’s missing heart. They wanted to believe in you so badly.

They hoped that a kind queen may soon rise to free them.

But Kyros had begged them to wait, to not make contact with you yet. 

Even if you had wished to help them, it didn’t mean that you could. It could be only another elaborate trap, you but another puppet on that demon’s strings. 

And the Tontattas weren’t alone in their immediate emotional investment in you either. That was clear in the excitement of the crowd as the tin soldier and Rebecca finally found an empty space they could cram into between other spectators. 

Like every other toy now in this stadium though, the war for this country had never ended for Kyros. His anguish and hatred were still the only real feelings he could muster as the humans beside him cheered when their king did finally appear. A blond devil grinning wide within the royal viewing box.

The very root of all that was wrong with their home. Their captor and tormentor, now with you at his side.

————————— 

Diamante had truly outdone himself today. It was perfect really. Only even furthering Doflamingo’s excellent mood as he heard the crowd now cheering his name.

He reached out, his fingers catching briefly over your hip as he guided you to sit beside him in the open air box.

You tensed at even that small of a touch though. You were still wishing to remain so proper in public. 

That time was about to be ending though. And he already was broadcasting that to anyone paying attention. Which was everyone of course as he extended his long arm over the stone seat back just behind you once you had sat at his side.

Gatz’s voice was already loud over the stadium’s speakers, welcoming the crowd to this afternoon of special exhibition matches put on by request of his majesty who was now gracing them with his rare presence.

Because it really had been a while since he’d been to the colosseum in person. He’d been too busy with his responsibilities as Joker, too busy with chasing you.

But now you were here and so was he. And you’d just noticed the large projection screen. Normally meant to showcase the highlights of the battles below to the crowd. But those visual transponder snails were focused on the royal booth in this moment to the people’s further delight as you quickly looked away.

“Don’t be so cold.” Doflamingo spoke to you with that continued amusement. “You’re still representing your precious marines here too you know. Don’t you care about this island’s citizens? They’re dying to get a chance to catch your eye…”

Quite literally perhaps.

On Doflamingo’s orders, Diamante had already let his prisoner gladiators know of today’s special rules. 

With you as his official guest, whichever fighter was judged as performing the best in the matches to come would earn the unheard of right of a full pardon. Not that unattainable thousand match bullshit that Diamante normally tortured them with.

But that pardon would come from none other than you. Just for today, Doflamingo would be granting you that authority, though you didn’t know it yet.

He wanted them to love you. He couldn’t show much mercy, even when used as a tactic with ulterior motives. Because he had to maintain full control here. But you could. You could be the facade of the softer hand when he needed one.

Doflamingo could have you secure the trust of even the ones that already knew enough to fear him. And you could help him weed out more of the traitors then when they’d inevitably come to you for help.

He was smiling, you making his life better in every way in this moment as he got comfortable. Legs spread again, his knee against yours as one of the servants brought the first tray of drinks by.

And he knew there was a diamond ring in his pocket as well. The one he’d picked out from the jeweler’s tray Monet and Sugar had presented him with earlier today when he’d told you he had a few things to take care of before getting ready to come here.

By this time tomorrow every piece of trash that had ever tried to cross him would be seeing a picture of that ring on your hand in the newspaper.

It was a fucking beautiful day to be king. A beautiful day to have everything back under his control, including you.

———————————

    T⨂  BE 

CONTINUED

———————————

Thanks for reading!

Author’s note: The song that Viola sings in the beginning is just my own English bastardization/loose translation for story purposes of the Spanish song “¡Ay Pena, Penita, Pena!”. Please go listen to the real thing.

[orpheasolace]

Yo guys, I wrote something. Constructive criticism is welcome😁:

Nectar was alone at a wedding.

To clarify, his brother’s wedding. At the reception.

And yes, in case you’re wondering, he does know how sad that is and he really does not want to think about it more than he already is.

Not that he was trying to think about it in particular. Nectar didn’t care enough to really be bothered by the fact that he was shadowed in a corner while other people swung around, moving their bodies in jerking movements and whooping at the top of their lungs for no reason that Nectar could identify. Still, he wouldn’t mind someone to talk to. Ugh, he couldn’t believe he was thinking that.

He watched all the happy couples, including his brother and newly deemed brother in-law dancing drunkenly to the beat of a familiar pop song that no one could really name, but everyone had heard it at some point or another. “Nectar!” someone called.

Startled, Nectar turned to see his cousin stumbling in a weak attempt at dancing and waving him over, “Nectar,” she yelled again, “Come join the fun!”

Feeling his eyelids droop into an unimpressed expression Nectar began in a false cheery voice, “Maybe I will,” his eyes narrowed, “Or maybe I’ll go get a drink, my dear nineteen year old cousin. Y’know, since I’m over twenty-one and all.”

His cousin, Sherri, whom he’d grown up with (along with her twin sister, Marci) rolled her eyes impressively. She was only nineteen years old but she had already broken the rules more times than Nectar could remember. 

“Oh, come on. Loosen up a bit!” Sherri called, grabbing another champagne glass from a passing waiter. She drained it in three gulps and then went back to dancing awfully and annoying Nectar.

“No offence, but I’d rather stand here for another three hours.” He deadpanned. 

Just then Marci came up behind Sherri and began dragging her away, much to her sisters protests. She shot Nectar an apologetic smile and he raised his cup of coke in salute.

Marica was the reasonable, responsible twin out of the two. You could tell by the number of grades she’d skipped, her steady relationship that had been nearly perfect for two years and the fact that she was currently studying art at the Rhode Island School of Design. 

Meanwhile, Sherri was barely passing summer school classes, dating a guy named Bob who ran an underground sandwich shop at his dorm (his specialty was tuna and jalapeno), and would be taking the SAT for the sixth time in the fall.

Don’t take it the wrong way, Nectar begrudgingly loved both like little sisters and these were all things Sherri had said herself when she received her end of year grades and had a breakdown. Nectar just wished Sherri would pull it together a bit and stop feeling sorry for herself. And not just because she tried to drag him to every social event she attended, or because the stench of alcohol made him gag, or because she was staying at his already tiny apartment. But because he cared.

Nectar shifted closer to his guitar case, loosening his tie which felt more like a noose to him. The party went on, with a sparkling disco ball in the middle that Nectar had told his brother not to get. But of course he had gotten it anyway.

Suddenly, someone knocked into him and they both crashed onto the floor. There was a yelp and the sound of shattering glass. “Ouch,” Nectar groaned, rubbing the back of his head which had slammed against the wall. He was sprawled at an awkward angle, one leg bent underneath him.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry!” said an apologetic voice. Nectar looked up to see a dark-haired boy scrambling to stand, his face shadowed in the flashing lights. He wore a waiter’s outfit that was stained with splattered wine from the glasses that had fallen. A tray was on the ground a few feet from where the two had collided.

“It’s fine.” Nectar said, observing a deep cut from the glass on his hand with mild concern. The waiter saw the blood and he tensed up.

“You’re bleeding!”

“I can see that.”

The boy grabbed Nectar’s hand in both of his to get a good look at the cut, sending a wave of discomfort through Nectar. “Oh jeez, I’m so so sorry.”

Nectar finally looked up from his hand, “It’s fine rea-oh, wow, your eyes are really pretty.” he blurted, face flushing.

The boy was staring straight at him, eyes so light they were almost gold with multiple shades of amber highlighting them. His hair was shoulder-length, tied up in a messy ponytail. When he saw Nectar blush, the corners of his mouth twitched up, those beautiful eyes sparkling and the multicolor party lights flashing prettily on his brown skin.

“I’m apologizing, you’re not supposed to compliment me.” The boy said, grinning at Nectar kindly. He had dimples. Nectar noticed this and for some reason he kept repeating the fact in his head, his face growing warmer by the minute.

"Um, I-I didn't mean to be so direct, er, I didn't mean to say anything at all. Sorry, you're probably not even um...sorry. I-I uh, don't even know your name." Nectar said, knowing fully well how much he sounded like a Disney princess. Though, Cinderella probably didn't stutter as much.

The boy laughed, holding out his hand, "Abraham."

Nectar only hesitated a second before placing his hand in Abraham's, "Nectar."

Abraham's long, thin fingers curled over Nectar's hand, their eyes locked. "You're the brother of one of the grooms, right?"

"Yeah." Nectar said, rising off the floor with Abraham following his lead a second later, their hands still linked in front of them. Nectar pointed at the waiters uniform, "You working?" He asked, then scolded himself for asking such a stupid question. Of course he was working, he was in uniform and handing out drinks. Nectar's face flushed with embarrassment.

But to his surprise,  Abraham just smiled sheepishly, "Well, I was originally supposed to be the pianist but, y'know," he waved in the direction of the dance floor, indicating the loud pop music booming from the speakers, "There's really no need for piano music after everyone's wasted."

Nectar laughed in spite of himself, and he thought he saw a blush on Abraham's cheeks. But certainly he'd imagined it, after all, it was hard to see in the shadow of the party lights. "I'll make sure to yell at my brother for allowing a musician to be put to work as a waiter. I'd like to hear you play sometime."

Woah, that was actually pretty smooth. Nectar gave himself an internal round of applause for his excellent conversational stamina and skill which were much stronger than usual, it seemed. Although, those eyes were perfect motivation.

Abraham's grin widened and he glanced at the dance floor before pulling Nectar a bit closer and bowing slightly. "May I have this dance?"

Nectar felt himself melt, aware how hot his face felt. "W-with this music?"

"Why not?"

"But I don't know how to dance!" Nectar said, cursing himself for arguing. 

Abraham pulled him, gently, even closer until they were sharing the same air, his other hand slipping down to rest on Nectar's waist. "Just follow my lead."

With that, the two began to dance, Abraham taking the lead and kindly whispering instructions on where Nectar should step. They never looked away from each other, Nectar's free hand on Abraham's shoulder and the other still being held. 

They unconsciously drifted into the crowd, standing out as the only slow-dancing couple in the room. Nectar felt his throat tighten. Everyone was watching, they were seeing him. He had worked so hard to stay invisible, but yet here he was; in the spotlight. And that spotlight was Abraham.

Abraham with his gorgeous amber eyes. His wine-splattered uniform and nimble pianist fingers. Abraham's soft smiles and music-like laughter that Nectar wanted to hear like a lullaby. Somehow all of Abraham made the crowd, the stares, the whispers and all the people brushing against Nectar on the packed dance floor, entirely insignificant. And all that was important was Abraham's soft touch and the music only they could hear that they danced to shyly. The world could be in total chaos but they would not look away, the pop music fading out, replaced by a melodic piano.

Suddenly, Abraham put his head in Nectar's shoulder so they were hugging and swaying. Nectar saw Sherri and Marci behind them, Sherri giving him a thumbs up and grinning like a maniac while Marci held her up, beaming at him proudly. He rolled his eyes but smiled into Abraham's shirt, trying to preserve even a shred of his dignity.

The other boy smelled like wine and Garden is cologne, a scent that made Nectar tuck his head into the curve of Abraham's collar bone. He was so present, so real. And Nectar could feel himself falling…

"Hey piano boy! Hey!" A voice cut through the trance and the two jumped apart, turning to see an angry cook calling from the kitchen door. "Dancing won't get you out of work, get the h ell over here and serve some strings! Your boyfriend can wait!"

And just like that the pop music was back, crude and loud enough that the floor shook. Not to mention the crowd, it was suffocating and Nectar desperately wanted to get out of it. He tensed up and Abraham must've noticed because he pulled them over to their original spot in the shadows where the glass and wine had been cleaned, leaving only Nectar's guitar to mark it. 

"I have to go." Abraham said apologetically, disappointment clear in his voice as he spoke to the boy before him.

Nectar nodded, "Yeah, I think everybody at the party knows. That cook can yell." He joked. When he got nervous he would start joking around to avoid negative attention. And he was more than nervous now. He was terrified of somehow screwing this all up. The eyes, the music. It was like fragile porcelain in his shaking hands. 

Abraham smiled at him before pulling out a blue Crayola marker from his trouser pocket where a pack of sticky notes was also visible. When Nectar looked at it, confused, he grinned. "Magical waiter powers, we must always be ready to take an order."

"Wow." Nectar said, his eyes drinking in the dimples like he would never see them again. And maybe he wouldn't. "I never knew being a waiter was so hardcore." 

"You'd be surprised." The other boy replied. Then, Abraham took his arm, making Nectar jump, and wrote a phone number on his skin. "Call me. I'd like to see you again." Abraham's face redeemed and he looked away, smiling sheepishly, "I don't think I could forget your smile."

A shiver went through Nectar as he nodded, looking down at the numbers in astonishment. "I don't think I could forget your eyes." He replied quietly.

Abraham beamed at him before glancing around and pecking Nectar lightly on the cheek. His lips lingered near Nectar's ear and he whispered, "Sorry again for the collision, I'll try to avoid unprecedented Jon's on our next date." Then he pulled away, smirked, and ran towards the kitchen, leaving Nectar in a puddle behind him.

Nectar leaned against the wall, he didn't feel alone anymore. His heart was light as he re-played the time with Abraham in his head. The next date. He said next date.

Nectar smiled to himself, touching the spot on his shoulder where Abraham's head had just been. Everything was the same, Sherri was still illegally drunk and running around the dance floor with Marci hovering over her like and mother rather than a sister, the music was still terrible and the groom's were still in each other's arms at the center of the crowd. 

But everything had changed as well. Because now Nectar had the memory of a boy's beautiful eyes and the large blue numbers on his arm just waiting to be called the next day when everyone was hungover and left Nectar alone. But most of all he had the sound of piano music in his heart, the steady melody of a single dance.

[thesunlounge]

Reviews 102: Faint Waves

I have been wanting to write about the meditative exotica of Faint Waves (aka Justin Weems) for a while, but every time I get ready to do a write-up, I learn another release is imminent and so hold off. But now is the perfect time to look back at Faint Waves’ wonderful year, given that Justin has just issued his most accomplished and far-reaching sets of songs yet: the magically transportive and guitar-led Hideaways II EP (following up 2017′s standout Hideaways EP) and the jaw-dropping Paradise Lost on eclectics, featuring one of my favorite tracks all year in the Dream Chimney dub of the title track. One thing that stands out immediately from the entire Faint Waves catalog is the mastery of melody; almost every track Justin produces contains some sort of irresistible ear-worm hook that I’ll end up humming or whistling for days on end (see “Cherry Blossom” for perhaps the most potent example). And underneath the melodic magic, he synthesizes his varied interests in synth pop, new age, tropicalia, film soundtracks, chill out, and adult contemporary into an adventurous and narcotic balearic haze.

Faint Waves - The Night & The City (Self Released, 2018) “The Night & The City” is spread across three mixes, with the original’s intro marrying textured basslines to Steve Reich-ian idiophones. After a hushed pause, the beat drops alongside faux-brass melodies and epic string sadness, marching away until a beatless midtro sees trumpets wavering over chill-out bass. And after floating a while in this zoned out space, the propulsive rhythms return and transport us back to the late-night urban atmospheres. The “Big Chair Mix” sees the horn melodies of the original transposed to Mark Barrot-style new age vocal pads and accompanied by neon arpeggiations. The beat comes crashing in with a 90s ambient house flair…an echo smothered break-y rhythm ranking among Justin’s very best. And the original’s dramatic beatless section is made all the more powerful here, as heady vocal samples drift over Chromatics incantations. The “Fargo Mix” is more restrained, with harp patterns and vibrant mallet tones giving way to vintage vocal pads and bleary (french?) horns. The drums are now reduced to a heroin jazz sway, with deep natural kick and brushed snare work supporting the sundown ambiance. The remaining cut is “After Hours Dealing,” nailing the sound of rain soaked city streets late at night with its feverish house pads and bass synth comforts. Marimbas and brass weave twilight nostalgia over a snare, kick, and hi-hat pulse while cerebral noises flash in the ether and moments of cinematic ascendency rush in, with everything flowing upwards towards a turbulent sky and noir horns breaking through the clouds like streaks of moonlight.

Faint Waves - Rain Rhythms, Vol. 1 (Self Released, 2018) Gentle yet effected rainfall underlies every moment here, joining first the smooth e-pianos, drums, and soft basslines of “Rain Rhythms No. 1.” This one evokes wistful views of a calm and grey sea from a faraway window, with every sound filtered through delicate yet tripped out echo fx. For “Rain Rhythms No. 2,” sparse dubwise hand drums sit below pads swelling in angelic harmony. It’s like a warm glowing fog, with pitter-patter cymbals keeping time, glassy vibraphones decaying to the horizon, and a midsection of floating beatless reverie. Piano and synthetic woodblock drift on waves of sunshine in “Rain Rhythms No. 3,” with a far-reaching and emotional melody played on pads sounding like heavenly sirens. I’m reminded of Aeoliah’s Angel Love, with transportive ivory heartache flowing above hazy rainforest rhythmics and affecting new age spells. And as time progresses, I find “Rain Rhythms No. 4” more and more compelling. It’s a deep plod into the heart of a dark forest, with sparse tambourine sounds forming the only rhythm aside from occasional kick drums. Wavering and slightly dissonant pads intertwine with deliriously beautiful yet heavily compressed pianos, while marimbas fall like water dripping off leaves. This is one of the few times unsettling and ominous vibes peak their way into the Faint Waves soundworld and their presence is all the more effective and interesting given the sharp contrast with the flowing beauty of the preceding three pieces.

Faint Waves - Amarsi Un Po (Self Released, 2018) “Amarsi Un Po” is a slight detour into the world of old Italian film soundtracks and pop, with string synths swelling in an orchestral prelude for the mediterranean flow to come. An airy drum shuffle, organic and embellished by thunderous timpani drums, is accompanied by sprightly music box melodies and irresistible reed instruments. And at some point the beats drop out, giving way to a string and acoustic guitar interlude evoking springtide romances, with adventurous solo flourishes and the sounds of coastal sunshine. Even better is the “Island Mix”, with seabirds and oceanic samples underlying the building string atmospheres. The rhythms here have a hypnotic flow rather than a shuffling stutter and the mediterranean reeds are replaced by spacious flutes and tropical marimbas. The guitar interlude is still preset, only now the six-string is smothered in celestial reverb and mostly floats alone, aside from foggy string plucks and the ever present sounds of nature. The Sketches from an Island vibes are strong on this one.

Faint Waves - Paradise Lost (eclectics, 2018) “Paradise Lost” comes to life on a swaying hand percussion groove and blowing synth wind. Rainsticks and deep blue ocean chords sweep in alongside tropical chiming melodies and gleaming mallet instruments, their lilting descent recalling nothing so much as the seaside bliss outs of Bonnie & Klein. This is especially true as swelling cymbals lead to a moment of pure balearic wonder, with exotic acoustic guitar explorations over moving synth chord tidal waves. The Dream Chimney dub takes the magical template provided by Faints Waves and transforms it into some long lost Coyote jammer. The kick and double time cymbals flow hypnotically with massive dubbed out synthbass bouncing through space. New age chimes flow through the mix like some universal ether and the rattles of the rainsticks are every present, stretched and looped into a cosmic breath alongside the sunset pads. Glassy marimbas are locked into an otherworldly dance; a melancholic descent that I would be fine living in forever. And all the while, flashes of acoustic guitar are refracted through prismatic fx, hitting those prime Max Essa vibes. Wisely, the guitar-led beatless stretch is preserved, only now chimes fall like shooting stars and the guitar is heavily obscured by heady reverb and galactic synthesis.

For "Sea of Dreams,” seagulls fly and converse above washing waves. Cymbals swell and introduce a massive kick drum pulse, circled about by gentle bongos and melodious Angelo Badalamenti pads that wrap the body and soul in euphoric warmth. Mystical vibraphones dance in a playful jazz flow and at some point, the kick picks up steam to bring in a spellbinding trumpet solo, both incredibly surprising and masterfully played. Faint Waves has worked with brass before but never like this, with such naturalistic warmth in the impressive jazz runs, sounding as if Miles Davis was scoring a sunset on the adriatic. The Rollmottle mix sees skipping house rhythmics soaring over sparkling blue waves…percolating, hypnotizing, propulsive. And as deep house pads repeat in hallucinatory syncopation, a towering Italo bassline fades into focus, bring us right into that eclectics wonder zone of dark disco and slow motion future balearic. Rollmottle also takes the original marimbas and morphs them into balls of energy bouncing off the sides of the mix, while claps decay eternally over the vibing cymbal work. And after a crucial bass drum drop out leaving just soaring basslines and ocean ambiance, that amazing trumpet solo drops from the sky, now hovering in jazz majesty over the chugging rhythm storm.

Faint Waves - Hideaways II EP (Self Released, 2018) Hideaways II starts with one of the strongest Faint Waves tracks in “Bonita,” as woodblock introduces some truly stunning guitar work. My mouth was agape the first time I heard it, as nothing else in Justin’s catalog hinted at such romantic riffscapes and gorgeous moments of blue sky harmonization. It’s the kind of sonic addition that sweeps his music towards the upper echelons of balearica, referencing strongly Phil Mison, José Padilla, and especially the recent work of Blank & Jones in its mixing of vaguely Spanish six-string fantasies and placid tropical downtempo. And behind the sweeping acoustic layers, new age chimes splash like sea spray, hushed pads add stirring oceanic ambiance, and synth leads sparkle like golden starlight. If there is any justice, this one will appear on a future Milchbar // Seaside Season compilation. “Tanzania” follows with a powerful downbeat rhythm and chiming synths and flutey pads joining forest fauna, while rainsticks and jungle atmospheres background vocal pads shimmering with meditative new age splendor. But the actual melodies skew closer to downer 80s synth pop, resulting in a captivating mix as a new age/world music palette is used to craft something that would fit in an episode of Twin Peaks.

We then find ourselves afloat on the “Mystic River” as cymbal swells bring with them a melody that is hard to describe, causing me to choke up, tears to well, but also a sense of warmth…vivid nostalgia, fond memories of old, wistful romances. The track features Amparo and sits somewhere in that Tommy Awards and Farbror Resande Mac zone, with glacial downtempo married to cold glowing space atmospherics. The cymbals occasional skip in cerebral patterns and there are these soft narcotic guitar riffs, evoking Cocteau Twins, Talk Talk, and other classic examples of moving post-rock. Following this trip, we find ourselves in some clearing in the jungle, as the starlight of “Wind Whisper” shines down in overwhelming brilliance. The track sees Maricopa leaning synth work swirling together with understated yet affecting mallet instruments, all over a classy downtempo rhythm with hints of blissed out jazz in the swelling basslines and marching cymbals and shakers. The journey ends with a reprise of “Bonita” and synthetic waves and solitary woodblock underlying the deeply cinematic guitar playing. Its beauty is brought into sharp focus here, untethered as it is to any rhythms or synth atmospheres, with the delicate yet confident runs and harmonies floating out to that magical realm where the sea meets the sky.

(all images from the artist’s and label’s Bandcamps)

[altonajitzu]

Superflowers Ch.1: Nayeon

“It’s the sea!” Jihyo exclaimed with gusto. She grinned widely, taking in a lungful of salty fresh air. Around her, the members of TWICE were also showing their own version of delight.

Their work schedule had been jampacked as of late, and one by one, the member exhibited different signs of exhaustion. Mina was hardly seen out of her room whenever they were at the dorm, Tzuyu became more irritable, and Jihyo found herself using her eye drops a lot more than usual lately. Her eyes got incredibly itchy at times, and she attributed this to the make-up that might have gotten into her eyes during their countless photoshoots and recordings.

Ever the observant producer, JYP granted them a two-day, one-night trip to Jeju Island. Admittedly, it was no full-fledged vacation on an exotic site- far from it actually, but they couldn’t have asked for anything better. The girls let out delighted shrieks upon hearing the news, overjoyed at their rare chance to let off steam and just let loose.

On the arrival at Jeju Island, they were greeted with a lavish dinner in a seaside restaurant.

“Your turn to order Jihyo.” Jeongyeon said, passing the menu to her leader.

“Alright! Let’s get some specialty in our stomach!” She exclaimed enthusiastically. Everything looked and sounded really palatable, so she picked one at random. “I’ll have some Galchi Jorim. Wait never mind, I don’t want that. One serving of Okdom Gui for me please.” The waiter nodded and proceeded to the next member.

“What’s wrong with Galchi Jorim though?” Dahyun, who was choosing next, asked curiously.

“Nothing Dahyunie, I just wanted something else.”

“Have you tried Galchi Jorim before?”

“No I haven’t.” She didn’t know herself why she changed her choice, but something told her she wouldn’t like the dish, so she chose another one without giving it another thought. Jihyo now felt foolish, seeing as she had never tried it before.

“Huh, that’s weird.” The rapper shrugged, dropping the topic.

Jihyo looked around the table. Everyone was excited, either chatting animatedly or taking selfies with the others. But then she noticed Nayeon, who was seated on her left, staring at nothing in particular with a distracted look.

“Nayeon-unnie?” She called out, catching Nayeon’s attention. The girl snapped back to reality.

“Yeah?”

“Is something wrong? You look… bored.” She asked with genuine concern. Of course the vacation was meant for them to have fun, but it was her obligation to see everyone

“I’m fine Jihyo, just a bit tired.” Came Nayeon’s reply.

“Let me cheer you up then. Say, if you're Russian when you go to the toilet, and Finnish when you go out, what are you when you're in the toilet?"

“… What?”

“European!”

The look on Nayeon’s face then was something Jihyo would take to the grave.

“Gosh, shut it you.” Nayeon pushed her away, but her lovely smile finally returned. Jihyo gleefully noted, directing her focus back to the newly-arrived food.

That night, she dreamt of having fun in the sea. Unlike other dreams, this particular one was so real, Jihyo actually felt exhausted when she woke up.

_____

The following morning, as expected, was a blast. They were given free reign at an exclusive resort site, reserved by JYP himself for his artists. Thanks to constant upkeep, this part of the beach was thankfully kept in almost pristine condition. The sea spread out limitlessly to the horizon, painting Jihyo’s vision with its deep azure sheen. There was no one here but themselves, save for their managers who had thoughtfully left TWICE alone- but never out of their sight.

TWICE spent the entire morning in the sea, enjoying each other’s company as they frolicked around without a care in the world.

After a few hours, Jihyo decided she was tired enough to stop.

Stepping back onto the white sand, Jihyo winced as her foot landed on something pointy.

“Ouch. What is…” She never finished her question. Suddenly hit by a wave of nausea, Jihyo clutched her head. Here it was again, the extreme sense of deja vu. She had been feeling this for the umpteenth time today, and it was no longer fun.

Looking around warily, Jihyo saw the scene with different eyes. Everyone was acting perfectly normal, yet it felt strangely familiar, as if she had seen this a lot before. While this was true, it shouldn’t have affected her so much as it was at the moment.

Her gaze drifted to a bench nearby, where a lone figure sat. Nayeon had stopped swimming some time earlier, and now she was hanging out on the beach, completely focused on playing the guitar.

Wait… guitar?

Jihyo was, after all, not an omnipresent god; there could be a lot of mysteries going on for her members that she never discovered, but there was one thing Jihyo knew for sure- Nayeon had never played the guitar before.

It did not take long for Jihyo to put two and two together.

“Nayeon-unnie.” She muttered under her breath. The person in their group with the ability to manipulate time at will, she must have had something to do with this. The evidence kept piling up, each and every of them pointing towards the involvement of TWICE’s oldest member. Determined to find out the truth, Jihyo walked out of the water and towards her unnie.

Nayeon looked up from her guitar and smiled fondly at the approaching leader. She couldn’t have enough of seeing Jihyo in her swimwear. Even at this private site of the island the threat of paparazzi was prominent, so any sort of revealing attire was sadly out of the question. As it stood, they had to do with full body swimsuits only. Still, it did not make Jihyo seem any less attractive; the skintight sportswear clung nicely to her well-proportioned figure and glistened with water, giving her an incredibly sensual aura.

“Hey.” The leader greeted. Shaking her head from the reverie, Nayeon replied smoothly.

“Hey Jihyo, having fun?”

“I am, Nayeon-unnie, thanks for asking. I’m having too much fun right now, it’s almost too good to be true.” With this she shot a pointed look at the older girl.

If Nayeon was at all fazed from the meaningful stare she did not show it. Rather, she merely nodded and returned to fiddling with the guitar strings. Her next song, which was her own impromptu adaptation of Likey, revealed anything but a relaxed state. Nayeon stopped on second too long after the intro, fumbled one time too many on the chorus, and- Jihyo noticed upon closer inspection- her chord hand was showing the slightest of trembles. She was nervous, and Jihyo knew it.

She put her hand on Nayeon’s, forcing the older to stop playing and divert her eyes upwards to meet her leader’s.

“You have something to do with this, don’t you, Nayeon-unnie?” Jihyo inquired, seeking the verbal confirmation of what she already knew. “You’re turning back time, and we’re having this vacation over and over.”

Nayeon did not answer, and she looked away. Despite the lack of response, Jihyo could see clearly the resigned guilt and overwhelming boredom in Nayeon’s slumped posture.

“How do you tell?” She asked with a quiet, dejected voice of someone who was caught red-handed. “It shouldn’t be any more than a slight deja vu. There’s no way you could find out you’re stuck in a time loop!”

“Nayeon-unnie… I’ve known you for almost a decade now, and never once did I see you with a guitar. People can’t just up and cover a song like that you know, that takes a lot of practice.” Nayeon stared at the guitar in her hands with disdain. Never once did she think it would be her undoing.

“… I gave myself away there, didn’t I?” Jihyo nodded sympathetically. Nayeon heaved a sigh, realizing her blunder one second too late.

“But why are you doing this? I told you, overusing your powers is not good for your health!”

“Well, when we were about to head home that evening, you told me how you wished for the vacation to last forever, so I thought…”

Jihyo’s eyes widened to the size of a golfball. That was the last thing she ever expected. Of course, since her unnie had rewound the time, she could not have remembered this particular instance, but she could very well imagine herself getting sad and saying something along the line of ‘I wish this vacation would last forever’.

“Oh my lord Nayeon-unnie… I don’t even know what to say…”

“But you need this vacation, don’t you! You’ve been working tirelessly these last few weeks, and it hurts to see you stress yourself out like that.” Nayeon desperately tried to justify her action, something she realized had been nothing but a colossal mistake.

Jihyo did not reply. She stared at the time manipulator, her mind blank with shock.

Before long, Nayeon decided she had had enough of this.

“Just, forget I said anything. It was really a stupid idea, you don’t remember what happened anyway. I won’t do it again.” Nayeon huffed and stood up, intent on getting away from her leader. She knew, deep inside, that what she did didn’t really make much sense if one thought about it, but seeing Jihyo’s incredulous reaction proved was too much. She did not really hope for any kind of appreciation, but still…

“Wait, Nayeonie.” Jihyo suddenly spoke up, using the rarely used nickname. Nayeon turned back and raised an eyebrow; being the oldest among the girls, no one really called her that but herself, so the mention of the nickname redirected her attention right away.

Jihyo stood up as well and wrapped the dumbfounded Nayeon in a tight hug.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean it to come out like that. I’m just so shocked that you’d do something like that for my sake.”

“Well it’s not really your sake alone, but others too, you know…” Nayeon trailed off when she saw Jihyo’s amused look. “Alright, I mostly think of you only when I do it. Happy?”

“Very. Look, Nayeon-unnie, I can’t thank you enough for your consideration, but please, think about yourself too. You’re bored out of your mind, and I can’t live with myself if I’m the cause for that.”

Nayeon looked at her quizzically. “That’s all? You’re not mad?”

“How could I be? That’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me. Admittedly I did not expect you’d take my words at face value, but it has been awesome. I just wish I could remember all the time I spent here, but sadly I only do for this repeat.” Jihyo playfully pouted, and was delighted that the smile she loved finally returned to Nayeon’s pretty face.

“… Really?”

“Really.”

“In that case, reward me.” Nayeon said slyly, puckering her lips out. It was clear what she was expecting.

“I’m not kissing you Nayeon-unnie…” Came Jihyo’s refusal. Still, she planted an appreciative kiss on Nayeon’s cheek. “… yet.”

“Dammit Jihyo, you’re such a tease. This will come back to bite you in the ass one day, I swear.”

“How can I not be? I live with a bunch of girls that are trying to steal kisses on my lips everyday. I have to retaliate somehow, no?” The light-hearted banter continued as they walked back towards the others.

“Last question. How long has this been going on, Nayeon-unnie?” Asked Jihyo curiously as they sat back down on the bench, almost afraid of the answer. After all, her unnie had managed to be quite proficient on the guitar, and taking into account the fact that she’d never touched one prior, the loop was likely to have been going on for quite a long while.

Nayeon looked down, her long hair obscuring whatever expression she had, and mumbled the answer.

“What was that? I didn’t quite catch you.”

“… 19 weeks.”

Jihyo promptly fell out of her seat.

____

Sitting in the van heading home from the airport, betwixt her rowdy bandmates, Nayeon rested her head on Jihyo’s shoulder and mused.

“You know Jihyo, in that time loop, I saw a lot of interesting things.”

Jihyo turned to look at Nayeon curiously.

“What are you talking about Nayeon-unnie?”

“I watched you guys doing your thing at the beach every day, then it suddenly occurred to me that I should note down what you guys did each repeat.” Nayeon fumbled with her back pocket, taking out a small notebook.

“Check this. Tzuyu was too afraid to even touch the water at first, but she gradually edged closer and closer thanks to your help… and the last day, she was frolicking in the water like it’s the most natural thing in the world.” This ilicited a laugh from Jihyo. She had been trying to get the maknae out of her fear for so long, and ironically, she did not even remember when she finally succeeded.

“Awww Nayeon-unnie, that was such an achievement, yet now I have no memory of that.” She playfully slapped Nayeon’s leg, making her pout.

“Well, what matters is that you finally did it, no?”

“… I guess you’re right.” Conceded Jihyo. “What else do you have?”

“Let’s see… Most of the others did more or less the same thing over and over, like Sana. She never gets tired of swimming it seems. Every time she challenged someone to a swimming contest, and she managed to lost each and every of them.” The duo shared a small laughter. “Or Mina and her passion for building sand castles, and our rappers for underwater wrestling.” She turned to the first place of the notebook, then continued.

“But you, Jihyo… you did something different every single time. You sat with me the day I started out on the guitar. You tried to swim as far as possible, making everyone worried. You got us all to play a game of beach volleyball. Once you even did scuba diving with a borrowed suit and equipments.”

Jihyo did not expect this newfound info. “I did all of that?”

“You did. I should have noticed this before, but this was the sign that you remembered, at least, your body did. Unconsciously you want to try something new and unprecedented, even if you didn’t know it yourself.”

The leader took one moment to absorb the observation. “I… reckon it’s true. Today, at least I think it’s today, I had a dream that I played in the sea so much I got tired even I awoke, so I felt like relaxing and taking a walk on the beach instead.”

“I see. Well, trust me when I tell you, you can now do pretty much every activity one can possible do at the beach like a veteran, and you can claim you’ve never done this before.”

“This has been an amazing experience Nayeon-unnie, I’m sure it is, even if I remember nothing.”

“Jihyo… This goes to show that even among us extraordinaires, you’re still special. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.” Nayeon concluded, landing a light peck on Jihyo’s flushed cheek.

“… Thank you, Nayeon-unnie. For everything.” They sat in a companionable silence, until Nayeon whispered again.

“… Hey.”

“Yeah?”

“Can I… try something new and unprecedented too?” This got Jihyo’s attention.

“What do you have in mind, Nayeon-unnie?”

“… I want to fast forward the time. See if we can get home sooner, even if it’s just a few minutes.” Jihyo detected a hint of anxiety in Nayeon’s unusually meek voice. Nayeon was always confident- whether it was about her looks, her singing, or her charisma, she had absolute trust in herself. Even though the other members, Jihyo herself included, often acted annoyed to her self-centered, borderline narcissistic behavior, they were secretly appreciative of it- whenever they were up against something arduous, Nayeon served as their source of self-assurance. One look at the cheerful bunny girl and they felt whatever they were facing did not seem nearly as intimidating as before.

Only when it came to unfamiliar grounds did the eldest of TWICE show any sign of insecurity.

However, Jihyo would not have that. She had been there when Nayeon took up guitar- at least, that was according to Nayeon herself, and she would be there for her when she tried to raise her powers to the next level.

“Don’t worry Nayeon-unnie, just try your best and don’t push your limits. I’m sure you can do it, no problem at all.” She said in her best soothing voice.

“… What if I can’t and we get stuck somewhere in the void? What if I brought us too far forward and we all became old and wrinkly? What if…” Nayeon was stopped as Jihyo put a finger on her lips. It was warm and reassuring.

“No matter what happens unnie, I know you can fix it. I trust you completely.” In an attempt to appease Nayeon’s disquiet spirit, Jihyo planted an affectionate kiss on the hand she was holding in hers, her eyes never leaving Nayeon’s.

The older girl found herself tear up almost immediately. This alone was the reason why she had been able to withstand all the pain of being an outcast. It had been durable, always up a bold and cocky facade and striving on forwards, only because she could return to this helping hand when things were too much to handle.

“… Thank you, Jihyo-ah. Thank you.”

With that, Jihyo closed her eyes. Their intertwined hands, held firmly between their bodies, never parted even as Nayeon once again twisted the fabric of space and time.

[fieldsofplay]

Top Albums of 2019

Top Albums of 2019.

25.  William Tyler – Goes West

For those of you reading along, I want to thank you for sticking with this blog for basically an entire decade at this point. Jeez, where does the time* go? To that end, I’m gonna put out a decade list sometime next week, so to keep my sanity somewhat in check, this years tops list is going to be a little more abbreviated than usual. A few less records, a few less words, but still the same self indulgence you’ve come to know and expect.  To that end, William Tyler.  Tied for my favorite cover art with IGOR.  This is beautiful finger-picked cosmic acoustic guitar music with some nice flourishes added by Brad Cook and the usual suspects.  Perfect for fall days.  I accidentally heckled him at a concert about the Andy Griffith show, but I was only trying to say he shouldn’t be ashamed about liking that program.  The shame still haunts me, much like this music. *A fictional social construct

24.  Floating Points – Crush

Now I’m not going to sit here and pretend to know much about electronic music.  I don’t know the deep history, I don’t know the technical lingo, but like pornography, I know it when I hear it.  Much has been made about the impact opening for the XX and being limited to minimal gear while doing so had on Sam Shephard, and I’ll admit the differences from Elaenia is palpable.  Where that album felt minimal, Crush is maximal, bursting with colors and ideas, not unlike the beautiful painting that adorns its cover.  I never quite knew what the phrase Intelligent Dance Music was supposed to mean, but to me, that’s precisely what this is. You could dance to “LesAlpx” if you wanted, or you could just throw it on headphones and drift away to its unceasing pulse. Find you a man who can do both.

23.  Nerija – Blume

Let me be the first to tell you that jazz is back! Centering largely in London, there is thrilling music being made by the likes of Sons of Kemet, The Comet is Coming, and this year, by Nerija. Breathing new life into a long moribund form (at least until Kendrick Lamar started featuring jazz musicians on his albums), Blume literally does just that, unfurling jazz from a long dormancy.  While I’m not normally a fan of the guitar in jazz, here it keeps the whole thing moving forward, as the horns swirl around in a supportive role and the percussion cooks.  “Riverfest” is the best exemplar, as the guitar chimes with joy while the cymbal-crashes enliven the vibe.

22.  Florist – Emily Alone

A tale as old time (song as old as rhyme): member of ambient-electronic band puts out solo acoustic album, about the sadness of moving to LA and finding oneself.  No one is reinventing the wheel here, but I can’t help but feel little touches of Florist’s electronic full-band output in Emily Sprague’s solo record—the way the words repeat, subtly, but building meaning with each little phrasal repetition. Plus, the ocean is a recurring image, and dear lord do I miss the sea. If you want to listen a sad girl sing sad songs accompanied by acoustic guitar, you aren’t going to do better than Emily Alone this year.

21.  Kevin Morby – Oh My God

Possibly the best Kevin Morby record?  No one else would say that, but I will.  If so, why is it so far down the list? Well, when you consistently put out amazing records year-after-year it becomes difficult for any individual album to make an imprint on the “culture.” I think “Seven Devils” is possibly his finest tune.

20.  Sacred Paws – Run Around the Sun

My friend David turned me on to this band right before I was about to embark on a road trip up north in the middle of the summer, and let me tell you, that was the perfect time to first experience Run Around the Sun.  Noodly guitars burst out of every seam on this record, as bubblegum lyrics tie the whole shebang together.  If you ever wondered what the Shangri-las would sound like if Johnny Marr played lead guitar, I give you Sacred Paws.

19.  Jamila Woods – Legacy! Legacy!  

On Legacy! Legacy! Woods takes the R&B of the excellent Heavn and applies a jazzier sheen, to excellent results.  One need look no further than the track titles (“Frida,” “Miles,” “Basquiat,” “Baldwin,” “Sun Ra” etc.) to see that Woods is consciously engaging with the titans of history, and here, while she doesn’t exactly reach the heights of those innovators, she certainly begins to carve out a legacy of her own as one of the best voices in a currently thriving R&B scene.

18.  Mt. Eerie & Julie Doiron – Lost Wisdom, Pt. 2

On Lost Wisdom, Pt. 2 Phil Elverum (of The Microphones) and Julie Doiron (of Eric’s Trip) recapture the magic they bottled on the first Lost Wisdom back in 2008.  It is hard to imagine sparer music than this, but the duo make so much of a pair of voices and few plucked guitar or banjo lines.  As with all of his music of late (for obvious reasons), loss hangs all over Elverum’s output, but here, the loss is more mood and less of a literal presence (with the exception of the blistering “Widows”).  Few songs I can think of capture a single, specifically odd phenomenon quite like “When I Walk Out of the Museum.”

17.  DIIV – Deceiver

As capital-G guitar music recedes further into irrelevance, it’s good to still have a band like DIIV kicking around, who make shoegaze like it’s still 1991.  And it’s a good thing they are still making their beautiful walls of feedback, as heroine has repeatedly knocked this band off the rails of what appeared to be a very promising career.  This is ominous, portentous music, that swirls with white noise and black despair.  Shoegaze is premised on making beauty out of the squall of overdriven electric guitars, and DIIV make beauty of the squall of 21st century opiate addiction.

16.  Earl Sweatshirt – Feet of Clay

Earl continues the excellent experimentation of Some Rap Songs in the (slightly) more structured Feet of Clay.  Whereas Some Rap Songs felt like fragments, the tracks on Feet of Clay (almost) feel like “songs” proper.  Earl continues to quickly sweep the ground out from underneath you, whether it’s in the form of oddly woozy backing tracks that can’t really be called “beats” or the sub 2-minute run times, but he seems to pack slightly more structure into those abbreviated entrants, even if there are a lot less of them than there were on Some Rap Songs.  Right now no one is pushing the boundaries of hip-hop like Earl, and each new release, even if the total run time is under 15 minutes, is a thrilling event.

15.  Better Oblivion Community Center – S/T

Yes, last year I had Boygenius as my number one record, but if I’m being frank, and I am, this is the better collaborative album put out by Phoebe Bridgers.  At first blush a record between the up-and-coming Bridgers and the largely has-been Conor Oberst seems like a desperate grab at continued relevance by the latter, but having seen them live, I must admit the pairing makes perfect sense.  The energy between the two is infectious, and while they share a common fascination with emo, they really draw the best out of each other.  Bridgers plays the Emmylou Harris role from I’m Wide Awake It’s Morning to perfection, and Oberst plays the Kenny Rodgers in “Islands in the Stream.”  For a period I could not turn on Radio K without hearing a song from this album, which is strange because, as a college radio station, every hour is usually completely different.

14.  Chromatics – Closer to Grey

In a certain way, Chromatics are victims of their own tendency towards self-mythologizing.  Their last two official albums were absolutely perfect slices of Italo-Disco, equal parts late night ennui and seething dancefloor longing.  There was way more guitar on those albums than most anyone would appreciate on first glance, and yet Ruth Radelet’s smoky vocals were unquestionably the star.  In the interim Johnny Jewel (the mastermind behind the band and basically everything on Italians Do it Better) famously destroyed all the copies of the long teased Dear Tommy after a near death experience, provided essential music to Twin Peaks: The Return (which included multiple Chromatics performances at the dear Road House), and then suddenly dropped Closer to Grey out of the sky, with neither warning nor fanfare.  This record is everything you would want a Chromatics record to be, but perhaps that is part of the reason it didn’t really make a major impression. It felt a little Chromatics-by-the-numbers, right down to the cover of “The Sound of Silence” to open it up.  I absolutely love this album, and if it weren’t for the incredible quality of albums put out this year, it would certainly be a top-10 or top-5 in any other year (hell, in the terrible-for-music 2018 it would have been number one by a mile).  Perhaps the biggest frustration is just how fucking good “Light as a Feather” is.  It hints at a version of Chromatics influenced by Portishead, and now that’s all I want more of.

13.  Thom Yorke – ANIMA

Doubt it if you will, you sneering youngsters, but Thom Yorke and his more well-known band are currently making some of the best music of their careers.  Just as A Moon Shaped Pool was a much needed return to form after the completely forgettable King of Limbs, with ANIMA Yorke gets back to what made The Eraser so compelling all the way back in 2006.  While a fondness for Aphex Twin is no longer at all exceptional in rock music in 2019, it was in 2006, and with ANIMA, Yorke gets back to the creepy, clicky, paranoid distrust of modern consumer culture that is solidly his wheelhouse.  Bonus points for using Netflix and a pairing with PTA to make America care about a long form music video again in 2019.

12.  Black Marble – Bigger than Life

I would call black Marble my favorite new band of the year, but the thing is, they aren’t new, just new to me.  Bigger than Life is their third record, and first for Sacred Bones (whose distinctive album art is what first caught my eye).  Because their music is comprised solely of arpeggiated synths, melodic bass, and clinking drum machines, overlaid with melancholicly narrow vocals, it is easy to accuse Black Marble of being a little same-y.  However, if you, like me, worship at the temple of New Order, than this is the band for you.  I have lived with their three extant albums the last couple months (the second, It’s Immaterial, being my favorite), and in reality, this is really the only music I want to listen to.

11.  Big Thief – U.F.O.F. / Two Hands

If you’re reading this than you likely already know how much I love Big Thief, and you might be a little surprised that one, if not both, of the records they put out this year is not sitting atop this list based on how much I’ve professed my love for this band over the course of 2019.  So here’s the thing, the highs on both of these albums--“U.F.O.F.” “Not”--are better than anything else anyone has done this year, but to my ear both records suffer from a flew blah-ish passages that prevent either album, on its own, from achieving top status.  However, if you borrow a few tracks here (Cattails, Contact) and a few tracks there (Shoulders, Two Hands) and made one album out of the highlights of both sessions, you would unquestionably have the album of the year.  That Big Thief gave us two records brimming with amazing folk rock ideas is a blessing.

10.  Sharon Van Etten – Remind Me Tomorrow

Hey, do you remember Sharon Van Etten put out an amazing record in 2019? I bet you don’t.  The culture moves so fast these days that albums from January might as well have been released five years ago, and it seems to me like this record slipped off a few peoples’ radars as the year progressed, which is a shame, considering how damn good it is (her best imho).  There are few runs on an album I’ve enjoyed more this year than “Jupiter 4’s” electro-throb into “Seventeen’s” Springsteen chug into “Malibu’s” comedown.  Bonus points for being my dear friend Hadley’s downstairs neighbor for all those years.  Ah Brooklyn, how I miss thee.

9.  Black Midi – Schlagenheim

Yes, that most reliable of music-critic tropes: the hot young band from London.  Black Midi made waves with a legendary youtube video of their live show, and having seen it in person, let me tell you, even that now infamous video doesn’t do them justice.  Much like its gobldy-gook made up title, Schlagenheim is an amalgamation of strands of music that don’t really fit together but somehow they pull off with aplomb.  At times they play with the hardcore fury of Minor Threat, while at others the proggy interconnectivity of Rush at their most arena-rockish, all with a weird dash of David Byrne wiry energy holding it all together.  If they come to your town, go see them, just don’t stand in the front unless you want to be swept into the maelstrom.

8.  Helado Negro – This is How You Smile

Did you love Little Joy (the Strokes sideproject) but wish it was occasionally electronic and periodically in Spanish? If so, I give you Helado Negro. This is the prettiest record of the year; it never goes above a certain emotional register / decibel range, but it inhabits the spectrum in which it lives like a ghost in its occasional electronic flourishes.  This is a record for someone with a long drive with something to think about. “Seen my Aura” is simultaneously funky and restrained, acoustic and electronic, and emblematic of the joys of This is How You Smile.

7.  Sturgill Simpson – Sound & Fury

Each of Sturgill Simpson’s last three records have been fundamentally different from one another, and each has been excellent, which is almost impossible to accomplish.  Metamodern Sounds in Country Music introduced many, like myself, to a new voice in an often overlooked medium, A Sailor’s Guide to Earth dusted off the horns from Elvis’s stax-era and romped around, and now with Sound & Fury Sturgill looks to the outlaw tradition (and ZZ freakin Top) he’s so-often been associated with, but rarely resembled, to crank out an incredible record that is far more “rock” than it is “country.” Throw on a heaping of 80’s-era Springsteen synths and you have the recipe for a record that makes me very, very happy.  The two halves of “Make Art not Friends” have little business coexisting within a single track (the first half sounds like Tangerine Dream, the second half Arcade Fire) and yet it is precisely in this tenuous cohabitation that Sturgill has produced his best record to date.

6.  Vampire Weekend – Father of the Bride

Vampire Weekend started out their career being accused of stealing from Graceland and ended up becoming Paul Simon.  Funny how that works out sometimes.  Modern Vampires of the City has become, next to Sound of Silver, the definitive record about life in New York during my era (2005-2016).  On the follow up, the band, newly shorn of Rostam Batmanglij (whose solo record is also phenomenal, even though he’s maybe one of the worst performers I’ve ever seen), decamped to California, and Father of the Bride revels in both the California sun and a well earned sense of accomplishment.  “Hold You Now” is my favorite song of the year, it is simply stunning.

5.  Bill Callahan – Shepherd in a Sheepskin Vest

There is a bit of theme developing here at the top of the list: established artists putting out arguably their best work deep into storied careers, and no one on this list is deeper into a more storied oeuvre than Bill Callahan.  Between Smog and under his own name, Callahan has been releasing consistently great albums since 1992, and to me, Shepherd in a Sheepskin Vest is his finest work to date.  Having found domestic bliss, so the press materials state, Callahan is content to sit back and let that world-weary baritone spin out all the comforts of a well-worn chair near a fire in a hearth.  This is the type of record that gives you hope that happiness isn’t the exclusive provenance of the young.

4.  Purple Mountains – Purple Mountains

If I were to really sit and write out all of my thoughts about David Berman this blurb would probably be 10 pages long, at least, so rather than spill a bunch of digital ink lamenting the loss of a true inspiration, I’ll just try and stick to the album itself, which is almost impossible now in the wake of his suicide shortly after its release.  Even on first blush this was a difficult hang, clearly the product of someone who lost their wife to a series of poor decisions / mental difficulties, and who hadn’t come to terms with it.  Understandably so.  Berman remains endlessly quotable, right up to the very end, and “we’re just drinking margaritas at the mall” remains emblematic of his ability to compress the tedium of middle american misery into a single haunting, yet, hilarious, image.  While “Nights that Won’t Happen” lives on as his suicide note directly to the fans (“The dead know what they’re doing when they leave this world behind” ; “all the suffering gets done by the ones we leave behind”), and it is hauntingly beautiful, it still makes me cry every time I hear it. As does most of this record. So the song I’ll carry on with me, and can still actually listen to, is “Snow is Falling in Manhattan.” Just a beautiful song from a beautiful man.  

3.  Tyler, the Creator – IGOR

I really don’t have the words (well, clearly I have some) to express just how impressed I am by the arc of Tyler’s career.  The one-time shock-rap flash in the critical pan quickly turned into forgettable homophobe who perfectly fit a description of Eminem’s fan base I once heard: kids who call their mom a bitch to their face.  The first startling change came with Flower Boy, which came right on the heels of his step out of the closet.  Flower Boy is a really great record, but it still largely sounded like Tyler, just a more mature version who stopped saying cringe worthy shit.  IGOR is something entirely different.  I honestly don’t even know what to call it. It’s not a rap record, and there are honestly entire tracks on it where I’m not sure what it is he does on them, but my god, this thing is incredible.  It’s basically a Parliament album for the end of the world, and if the earth is going to burn down around us, we might as well dance our way out, which is precisely the party Tyler has orchestrated here.  I cannot wait to see what he does next.

2.  Angel Olsen – All Mirrors

All Mirrors isn’t just clearly Angel Olsen’s best album by a clear margin, it is the best pop album made by anyone in sometime.  Just like black clothes make anyone a little slimmer, orchestration can make any pop song sound symphonic, but most pop acts don’t have the power of Angel Olson’s voice to match the bombast of the string section and percussion.  It feels like the term Beatlesesque has started to fade from the critical lexicon, but this music is truly akin to the orchestral richness of “I am the Walrus” or “A Day in the Life.”  People celebrate Lana del Ray for her torch songs (and I really liked Norman Fucking Rockwell, even if it didn’t quite make this list in a stacked year) but no one carries a torch like Angel Olsen.  I was initially reticent to catch her live show this tour, it was on a weeknight, it was cold, I had to go downtown, I’d seen her a couple times already, yadda yadda yadda, but I knew deep down I really wanted to see if she could recreate the power of these songs on stage (the inverse of how that equation usually goes).  Reader: she did.

1.  (Sandy) Alex G – House of Sugar

House of Sugar may not be quite as experimental as IGOR, or as pop-perfect as All Mirrors, but it takes those two impulses and melds them together into what is my favorite album of the year, even if strictly speaking it may not be the “best” as measured against the other entrants in this top 3.  “Hope” was actually a “hit” song on the local college radio station, and understandably so; it sounds like Elliott Smith and tells a comprehensible story about a friend who died from an overdose.  But “Hope” is jut one facet of House of Sugar, which is a veritable hall of musical mirrors.  “Walk Away” is hypnotic in its repetitions, “In My Arms” is a legit straightforward acoustic love song, “Sugar” sounds like The Knife (no joke), “Sugarhouse” could have been on The River, and while I already said “Hold You Now” is my favorite song of the year, “Gretel” has something to say about that.  I saw a show right when this album came out, and as the band left the stage for the final time the soundguy cued up “Gretel” not, I’m guessing, because the band requested it, but because it rules and he just wanted to share it with everyone as they receded into night.

[roseonhissleeve]

Bloom — Part IV — Spring

REQUEST: Can u write a fan fic about the girl owning a flower shop and Harry coming in to get flowers for someone else but then they fall in love because love is beautiful like a flower

AUTHOR’S NOTE: This is the final part of this story! I may add an epilogue afterwards, but this will be the last weekly update. Thank you all so much for the feedback and the support that this story has received—this one holds a special place in my heart. I hope that you enjoy! x

Bloom: Part I // Bloom: Part II //Bloom: Part III //

The day had arrived.

Harry had been talking about it for weeks and weeks—he’d had such a good time writing his first album in isolation, that he decided to do the same thing for his second album. He was heading off to a remote island off of the coast of South America, and he had booked out studio time for two whole months.

The two of them spent hours together talking about his travel plans and getting him a head start on the writing process. He would spent days sitting at the counter of her little store—he would even occasionally ring in the customers, teasing her about how he deserves to be on the payroll. For the most part he sat and played the guitar, or brought her fun things that he’d purchased to take with him.

She did her best to distract herself from the fact that her best friend in the world was leaving.

It had been almost a year since Harry walked into her flower store that first night, and now she couldn’t imagine her life without him. She understood why she wouldn’t be able to have any contact with him during his writing process—he needed to focus on his music, and she respected that entirely. But it would be the hardest two months of her life, because Harry was her favorite person in the world.

And because she was in love with him.

The day he came to say goodbye, it was almost midnight. She had been doing inventory in the store and stopped to read up on something in her encyclopedias, and she ended up falling asleep in the back room. She didn’t hear the dinging of the bell above the door as Harry walked into the store.

He called out her name softly when he didn’t see her at the counter, and stepped into the store before locking the door behind him. He always gave her grief about how she never locked the front door after closing, especially because she spent so much time there after-hours.

He walked in through the store and behind the counter to go into the back room, and he couldn’t help but smile at the sight of her. She was curled up in a blanket, her big book in her lap as she lay back on a large beanbag chair she’d bought the previous month. Her soft snoring filled the air, and even though she was asleep she looked distraught, as if she was having a bad dream.

“C’mon love,” he said, kneeling down beside her as he set a hand on her knee. She stirred a little bit—she was an incredibly light sleeper, he’d learned, and her eyelids fluttered open only enough to see his face. The moment she saw him her lips revealed a sleepy smile, her arms reaching out to him.

“Harry,” she mumbled, still half-asleep. “Come cuddle me.”

He chuckled lightly, moving so that he could position himself next to her on the large beanbag chair. She immediately curled up against his chest, and his heart leaped at the sensation—she’d never been this physically connected to him. 

Up until that point their friendship had been strictly platonic, and he didn’t think that she had any intention of taking it anywhere else. But he couldn’t ignore the thudding of his heart in his chest as she draped her arm across her chest, her nose tickling his skin as it nuzzled into his neck.

“I’ve got yeh,” he murmured delicately, giving her a gentle squeeze as she positioned herself against him cozily.

“Mm, Harry?” She murmured, eyes still shut.

“Yeah, love?”

“I’m…really gonna miss you,” she sighed, and he thought that he heard a hint of sadness in her voice. He ran his hand up her back soothingly, pressing a lingering kiss against her forehead before replying.

“I’m gonna miss yeh too, sweetheart.”

He let her drift off to sleep in his arms—he probably shouldn’t have, but he didn’t have the heart to wake her up just yet. Even though she’d been putting on a brave face, he knew that she was taking his upcoming departure harder than she admitted. She always got a little bit quieter when they spoke about it for too long, and she’d been in a cranky mood the past couple of days. And even though he was excited for his new adventure, he had to admit that he was sad he would be leaving her here.

Eventually he woke her up properly and helped her finish closing up the store, neither of them saying much. They both knew that a goodbye was in order, and they were both absolutely dreading it.

Once there was nothing left to do they both stood outside of the store, looking at each other underneath the light of the street lamps.

“You don’t have to worry about me,” she said softly, forcing a small smile onto her lips. She was holding back tears, but she forced herself to stay strong as he stared at her, his eyes scanning her own features for something that she wasn’t sure of.

“M’not worried,” he replied, his hands tucked in his pockets. Silence fell between them, both of them looking into each other’s eyes, neither of them willing to be the first one to say goodbye.

Suddenly he stepped forward, slipping his arms around her waist tightly. She stood frozen against his form for a moment, her eyes wide at the sudden intimacy. For a second, Harry feared that maybe he’d taken it too far. Maybe she didn’t want this.

But then she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him even closer. The second she did he held her tighter, as if he could maybe keep her with him forever if he simply tried hard enough. His palms rested at the small of her back, his fingers splayed out to cover as much area as possible—her fingers tangled in the curls at the back of his neck.

She hid her face in his chest, and he nuzzled his lips into her hair, inhaling her scent softly. He never noticed that she smelled like lavender, but he would never forget it. He held onto her for what seemed like forever, yet it didn’t feel like long enough at all.

At the end of the night, both of them went their separate ways without saying much. And maybe that was their biggest flaw, or their greatest mistake.

Because both of them had so much to say, yet neither of them said anything at all.

* 

There was only one song left.

One song that they needed to finish to make the album complete. He had been in the studio for a month straight now, and his album was almost complete—he was incredibly proud of what they’d accomplished, and every song was more or less finished other than small touches there and there.

But there was something missing.

“How do yeh like the pitch in this riff section, Harry?”

“Hm?” Harry jumped slightly as he was brought back to Earth from his thoughts of daisies and lavender. He looked up at Mitch, who was staring at him with confusion and an arched brow, gently slapping his hand against Harry’s shoulder.

“You okay, man?”

“Yeah, yeah, m’fine,” Harry said, rubbing at his eyes softly before spinning around in his chair, turning away from the sound booth. “Play around with the riffs for a minute if yeh want, m’gonna work on somethin’ new.”

“Sounds good,” Mitch agreed, taking a seat in the chair beside Harry and grabbing a set of headphones. When he was writing Harry had a habit of wandering off on his own to work sometimes, and everyone there who worked with him previously was used to it. It was often during those moments alone when he wrote his best material.

He stood up and walked out of the room, grabbing an acoustic guitar from its stand on the way out. He made his way to a small side room and closed the door behind him, sitting down on the couch and setting the guitar in his lap as he began to play with the strings.

His mind swam with lavender and flower petals.

Hours later he sat in the sound booth, playing the full song for the first time. His fingers trembled as he played it, his voice occasionally rasping with emotion as he sang. He still had to look at the lyrics on the page, but for the most part he had it completely memorized solely because of how much it meant to him.

“It sounds amazing, Harry,” Mitch said when he was finished, pulling Harry out of his trance. He looked up from his sheet music and smiled, reaching to brush away the stray lock of hair that fell at his forehead. “What’s it called?”

“Flower Girl,” he announced, his heart leaping at the confession.

“Must’ve really loved her,” Mitch mused, flashing Harry a knowing smile. He chuckled, lowering his gaze to his guitar as he started playing the tune again, the lighthearted melody filling the air as he hummed softly.

The time away from home, away from her, had only solidified and brought to light what he didn’t have the guts to admit before leaving.

He was absolutely in love with her, and he wouldn’t let her go again.

*

It had been two months since Harry had left, and business was booming.

She was busier than ever, which provided a much needed distraction from missing him. She was filling out orders and had even had to hire someone to make deliveries, and she was going to have to start outsourcing more now that she didn’t have the capacity to grow all of her flowers in her little greenhouse. She was working hard and she absolutely loved it, but there was always something missing, and she felt that ache constantly.

She was in the back room reading a book when she heard the dinging of the front door.

“I’ll be with you in a minute!” She called out, shutting the book and setting it aside as she stood up and walked out into the store. Before she could there was another ding, and the store was empty. She stood at the counter, puzzled, until she saw the note that had been left on the counter. It was small and didn’t say much, except for an address, a time, and a pair of initials.

H.S.

Her heart almost fell out of her chest at the realization that this was from Harry, and it almost felt like some weird dream. She’d been waiting for him to come back for so long, and once two months had passed without a word from him she was starting to believe that maybe he had grown tired of her.

She checked her watch—she had two hours before she was supposed to meet up with him.

That evening she closed up the shop early, heading home to get ready.

*

Two hours later she was driving up to the address that she’d plugged into her GPS—she was wearing a white sundress with pastel purple sandals, and her daisy necklace. She had absolutely no clue where this address was taking her, but she found herself practically bouncing up and down with excitement at the reality that she was going to see her best friend again. It was almost too good to be true, but she didn’t let herself give into her doubts, not that night.

It was still light outside when she drove up to the address, which ended up taking her to a small park that she had been to a couple of times since she moved there almost a year earlier. She stepped out of the car and looked around curiously, her heart in jitters as she waited for Harry to make some sort of appearance.

From the distance she saw a small pathway, with what looked like rose petals on the gravel. She began walking towards it and discovered that yes, the pathway had been decorated with what must have been over a thousand rose petals, and she could only assume that it was a sign.

She couldn’t help the smitten smile that appeared on her lips as she began walking down the path, bending down every so often to scoop up a handful of petals and let them fall again through her fingers.

When she finally reached the end of the path she walked into a clearing, and what she saw absolutely took her breath away.

There was a large fountain in the centre of the clearing, the sounds of the trickling water making its way into her ears. All around the opening there were flowers—roses, tulips, daisies, hydrangeas, sunflowers, every kind of flower that could possibly be growing at that time of the year was there, in bunches and bushes that surrounded the clearing entirely. The colors reminded her of fireworks, and she was overwhelmed with the joy that she felt.

Then she saw Harry.

He was sitting at the edge of the fountain, one leg folded over the other. He was wearing a pair of skinny jeans and a patterned t-shirt, a loud, obnoxious blue and purple pattern decorating his torso. He was grinning like an absolute doofus, and she was smiling so hard that her cheeks hurt.

“Harry, what is this?!” She giggled as she walked towards him, doing a little twirl on her way so that she could get a look at everything. He stood up and began walking towards her, meeting her halfway.

“S’yours,” he said, reaching to take both of her hands in his and lift them to his lips. He inhaled softly, his lips smiling at the familiar lavender scent.

“Mine?” She choked, her eyes widening. She was thrown off by both the announcement and the feeling of Harry pressing his lips against her knuckles, something that he had never done before, but it brought tingles to her chest.

“Mhm,” he grinned, nodding his head. “The conservatory’s been here for years, but the owner apparently passed this last month and the lawyer’s been lookin’ for someone to take over the estate. When I heard, I told’em I had the perfect person in mind.”

“Harry…” she gasped softly, giving his hands a squeeze instinctively.

“I love you,” he blurted out, exhaling a nervous chuckle along with the words. “I was, um…I was gonna say this big speech, about all this cheesy stuff an’ how when I met you I didn’t know you were gonna be so important to me, and how the universe put us together fo’ a reason, an’ how I never wanna spend two seconds away from you again let alone two months…but I love you. I just love you, and there’s no simpler, more honest way to put it. I am in love with you!”

He shouted the last sentence out loud, and she giggled, overcome with giddiness at his revelation. When she giggled he began to laugh as well, wrapping his arms around her waist tightly and scooping her up off of the ground to give her a little spin, setting her back down on the ground afterwards.

“Do yeh love me?” He asked, eyes twinkling with hope.

“Oh, you silly boy,” she grinned, standing up on her toes to nuzzle her nose against his in a gentle eskimo kiss. “Yes. Yes, I love you. I do. Of course I do.”

He immediately pressed his lips against hers, and it felt like finally coming home.

They spend hours in her garden, skipping and rolling around in the grass. They felt the happiest that they ever had, and they couldn’t believe how long it had taken them to finally come together.

Their love was like a flower, and it bloomed oh so beautifully.

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[dillydallydance]

Let’s say I synced my year on the lunar calendar, which will give a kind of excuse for this year’s delay in publishing lists (an exercise that still tickles my rational/irrational relationship to music).

This year saw the beginning (and then a complete neglect) of dddance+microclimat office playlists. The year in music then revolved much more than usual on single songs, one-hit discoveries, music blogs, spotify+deezer recommendations, etc. A few numbers explanation: In a way the list could have been quite long, but here are the 100 most played/curious songs. Ranking mattered only for the first 75, so it starts in alphabetical order. This is a much different exercise than ranking albums: I focus on replays, songs I shared, songs that were contagious to others.

Here is the playlist in full:

via SPOTIFY

ALSO ON DEEZER HERE

Adult Jazz – Eggshell

Bess Atwell - Cobbled Streets

Cass McCombs - Opposite House

Drake - One Dance

Explosions in the Sky - Desintegration Anxiety

Flume - Smoke & Retribution (feat. Vince Staples & Kučka)

Francis and the Lights - Friends (feat. Bon Iver)

Griefjoy - Scream Structure

Her - Five Minutes

Honus Honus – Santa Monica

Justice - Safe and Sound

La Femme - Le Sphynx

Lady Gaga – Joanne

Mark Pritchard - Beautiful People (feat. Thom Yorke)

Masasolo - Really Thought She Loved Me

Midnight Faces - Heavenly Bodies

Miya Folick - I Got Drunk

Nicolas Jaar - Killing Time

Niki & the Dove - So Much it Hurts

Plants and Animals - No Worries Gonna Find Us

Two Door Cinema Club - Bad Decisions

We Are Wolves - Wicked Games

Wilco - If I Ever Was a Child

Wild Beasts - Get My Bang

Wild Nothing - Reich Pop

75. Adele - Send My Love (To Your New Lover)

Always start the list with a pretty good joke. I know this album is 2015, but this single is 2016, and I danced on that in the office, sang it in a Karaoke in Tokyo and here I am a single-only Adele fan !

74. Rihanna - Work (feat. Drake)

73. Leonard Cohen - You Want it Darker

72. Larry Gus - At Your Desk

71. Moby & The Void Pacific Choir - Are You Lost In The World Like Me

70. Childish Gambino - Redbone

69. Car Seat Headrest - Fill in the Blank

68. Suuns – Translate

67. Radiation City – Separate

66. Preoccupations – Anxiety

65. Massive Attack - Voodoo in My Blood (feat. Young Fathers)

64. Bat For Lashes - Sunday Love

63. Animal Collective - Golden Gal

62. Islands - The Joke

61. James Blake - I Hope My Life

60. Kendrick Lamar - untitled 06 | 06.30.2014

59. The Avalanches – If I Was a Folkstar

58. Yeasayer - Gerson's Whistle

57. Peter Bjorn and John - Breakin' Point

56. Palace Winter - Positron

55. Prism Tats - Death or Fame

54. Deakin - JUST AM

53. Funeral Suits - Tree Of Life 

52. Los Porcos - Do You Wanna Live?

51. Dinner - Turn Me On

50. Bibio – Petals

49. Local Natives - Past Lives

48. Izzy Bizu - Someone That Loves You

47. LUH – I&I

46. The Kills - Doing It To Death

45. Blood Orange - “Best to You” (ft. Empress Of)

44. Cullen Omori - Synthetic Romance

43. Metronomy - Back Together

42. Methyl Ethel - Idée Fixe

41. PJ Harvey - The Wheel

40. Father John Misty - Real Love Baby

39. Mind Enterprises – Girlfriend

38 Devendra Banhart - Middle Names

37. Money - You Look Like a Sad Painting on Both Sides of the Sky

36. James Supercave - Virtually a Girl

35. Christine and the Queens - It

34. Beyonce - Formation

33. Austra - Future Politics

32. The Palms - Push Off

31. Michael Kiwuanuka - Love & Hate

30. Porches - Be Apart

29. The Weeknd - Starboy (feat. Daft Punk)

28. Globelamp - Controversial/Confrontational

27.The 1975 - Somebody Else

26. The XX - On Hold

25. Yoko Ono - Soul Got Out of the Box (feat. Portugal. The Man)

24. Anohni - Drone Bomb Me

23. Kanye West – FML

22. Júníus Meyvant - Color Decay

21. Operators - Cold Light

20. David Bowie - Blackstar

19. Julien Doré - Le Lac

18. Rae Sremmurd - Black Beatles (feat. Gucci Mane)

17. Jarryd James - Do You Remember (feat. Raury)

16. Andrew Bird - Left Hand Shake (feat. Fiona Apple)

15. Hamilton Leithauser + Rostam - In a Black Out

14. Georgia - Move Systems

13. Empress Of - Woman Is a Word

12. Beck – Wow

11. The Last Shadow Puppets – Aviation

10. Glass Animals - Life Itself

Glass Animals discuss How to be a Human Being with sass and swag, tackling the ridicule of some scenes of “life itself”, with a sense of derision felt equally in lyrics, synths and guitars. You can bounce your ass off as he admits “I can't get a job so I live with my mum / I take her money but not quite enough / I make my own fun in grandmama's basement / Said I look mad, she said I look wasted”.

09. Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros - Hot Coals

This band involves quite a bunch of people, but rarely do they connect as much as they do on "Hot Coals", a jazzy, expansive number that breezes through a tickled intro, sexy and lively arrangements, percussive transitions, a piano-horns climax and a quiet landing that revolves around one of Alex Ebert’s rare displays of seriousness and humility (he’s usually quite annoying). The line "Stay the fuck in my heart" is aggressive, while the massive build-up is softly supporting it. The song is in full possession of the band’s collective skills.

08. Damien Jurado - Exit 353

Visions Of Us On the Land marks the end of a prolific album trilogy. Jurado’s voice is unique: tearful and brittle on acoustic songs. It’s also interrogative and existential, when he tackles the grandeur of of a spiritual journey, as on “Exit 353”. “You were with me all along / I let go and you held strong” is a transcendent contrast to the final part of the song where he acknowledges, in a loop, “I was alone there / I was alone then”. His state of grace, on the land, in the country, or within himself, becomes ours in a true grasp of communal beauty.

07. Loney Dear – Hulls   +    SOHN – Rennen

I don’t know how to characterize Loney Dear’s music, especially as I discovered him with “Airport Surroundings”, a song quite at odd with the rest of his catalogue. But this guy can haunt with all sorts of minimalism (hear the early “Harm” and “Distant”). ‘Hulls’ does that in a ferocious way, disturbing with piercing pulses and sharp words about estrangement. It climaxes subtly, sharing in part the tortured violence of not being loved back.

“Rennen” from Sohn picks up the same mood as with his previous album, Tremors. It’s isolated (this time literally, as Christopher Taylor secluded himself in Northern California to record his new album). It’s icy, nocturnal and pretty damn soothing. As the rest of the album again shows him to be clumsy in motives and styles, his voice is self-assured of its beauty, and emerges as one of the most pristine foreground to the kind electronic anxieties he puts forward.

06. Radiohead Burn the Witch – Daydreaming - Decks Dark - Present Tense

I always use the stupid first-grade imagery of music that makes you float, but if a band truly has the power to challenge gravity’s configuration, Radiohead reshuffle again the palpable arrangements of upright rock/electronic music, with guitar, bass, synth and drum sounds all muddled to uplift Yorke’s newfound transparency. It’s not to say that the band settled on a desirable balance between clarity and ambiguity, but a few, scarce moments of contrast bring the most rewarding seconds on the album: as “Identikit” is set afloat by Ed’s back vocals (and that choir!), Jonny conflicts the tones up and down with one of his crudest electric solo (see also the final of “Decks Dark”, with raw bass and guitar lines framing an highlight on the album). It’s Jonny too that, bringing magnificent string orchestrations, makes the record sound pastoral and idyllic even in its gloomiest moments. The contrasts are truly atmospheric, and serve as a support to a clear theme of “lightness”, persistent in the lyrics (am I really writing about Radiohead and lightness?). “Present Tense” offers such mutation in the singer’s cynicism, in a way that one can actually believe him when he sings “Don’t get heavy / Keep it light and / Keep it moving”, backed with some of the loveliest and charming music ever penned by the band (choir vs. echoed vocals vs. old-fashioned continental fingerpicking). Such words ultimately make me the most liberated too, as if I’ve watched old cousin struggle for more than 20 years, reaching a point where he embraces enlightenment: “With my spirit light / Totally alive / Totally released”.

05. M83 – Solitude

The retro-looking music of M83 always toyed with a form of adolescent, dream-like purity. It’s lovely when it’s innocent and doesn’t make sense. The whole world discovered that it could also be exhilarating with 2011’s “Midnight City”, or saturated with immature happiness on Hurry Up, We’re Dreaming. M83 gives the music for those who want to feel small and silly in a big world. But this year’s Junk also proved that the cool-irony gets clumsy when that vintage obsession is overblown. Yet, “Solitude” is all that: it’s excessive and immoderate. It’s superb, grandiose, melodramatic, and lavish. And to the credit of Gonzales, it’s also immensely skilled and savvy.      

04. The Tallest Man on Earth – Rivers

A sweeter voice, less Dylan, evermore Matsson. Fingerpicking magic. The song is delicate and poignant. The bareness of its first half is slowly lifted by soft horns and subtle piano notes. This guy is steadily good.  

03. Whitney - No Woman

At the moment when I feel that indie music has not many ways left to re-characterize itself (indie is a ‘character’, right?), two former Smith Westerns guys come out with the perfect indie-folk song, making that indie thing as relevant as ever. And they do so without reinventing a single ingredient: a vacillating falsetto, inexpensive Em-A-G chords known for bringing down cynicism in an instant, a mythic-american narrative of isolation and drifting the land looking for a sense of purpose. It’s solitude without pathos (thanks to those horns). It’s sad and beautiful. It’s humble and hopeful. It knocks you down in less than 4 minutes, simple, competent and candid. I shared this song the most this year, usually with the same immediate response: “yeah, I’m hooked too”.

02. Frank Ocean - Pink + White

The fact that I’m not so passionate about R&B or soul music kept me unreasonably distant from Frank Ocean. It trickles down also (shamefully) as an involuntary estrangement with some of the most relevant black voices elevating the contemporary cultural discourse. I mean, I can go to sleep to Billie Holiday’s “Strange Fruit” and wake up to Kendrick’s “Alright”, but I missed out on the latest of D’Angelo, Miguel, and yes, Solange and Beyonce. “Channel Orange” is revered on every sides of the universe, but it surprisingly never gave me the thrills. I read of how much of a talented singer-songwriter he is, and can’t deny any of the praises thrown at his relevance and his voice. But a few blogposts from him also hinted at a profound humanity, which kept me curious to whatever he (seldom) chooses to sing about. And here I am in 2016, finally joining the collective applauses, abusing of his ineffable empathy, worshiping the true beauty of his sensibility. Compared to the previous album, the R&B tag isn’t that obvious, probably due to the album’s deliberate minimalism. He dissolves any need for labels, cuts instead his flesh open, and makes his bowels sing along some of the most creative melodies of the year. It’s raw yet meticulous, comforting yet secretive, avant-garde yet immediately rewarding. Blond ended up as one of the albums I replayed the most this year. The combination “White Ferrari” and “Seigfried” are so well crafted in introspection and intimacy, it’s like you can hear him bleed (also, thanks Jonny Greenwood). I’m guilty of choosing also the duo of “Ivy” and “Pink+White” in particular, especially as the latest is the most immediately likable song here. But damn, how willingly am I grooving along the pristine voice, breezing with the chill and sensuous summer melody. It’s 2016’s song for walk-grooving on bass and piano tempos, set adrift on dreamlike lyrics and imageries. This is smooth smooth smooth. I’m glad I’m now fully onboard with this Ocean guy.

01. Bon Iver - 33 "GOD"

What the fuck is this guy singing about? “Holocene” was arguably one of the prettiest songs of the last decade, but there is this line about “laying waste on Halloween” that makes it surprisingly mundane. The whole ‘mood’ of such songs aligns with the Divine, yet any attempt to dissect it (maybe no one should) shows rather a collection of references to everyday places and times. It is an undeniable signature of Justin Vernon that whichever mediums he works with (may it be the resonance of elementary guitar chords, the cold echoes of autotune, or stretched electronic pulses), human-scale alienations will dominate, and will be collected into a transcendent ‘mood’. And for me Vernon is exactly that: not much of a skilled musician, but a skilled collector, a curator. Fragments of sounds and words are built in such a universal and relatable image-space; vaporous lines draw contours of quotidian episodes; passages are momentarily crafted between memories and estrangements. He gives order to what are merely fleeting impressions of the world. In “33, ‘GOD’”, when Vernon juggles aptly from sacred allusions (“I could go forward in the light”) to everyday realisms (“Well I better fold my clothes”), his questions, struggles and uncertainties briefly take shape as an engaging and responsive ghost figure. The most enduring appeal of Vernon is to do so without veering into overconsciousness, without sounding like a self-professed guru of ‘crystal healing’ bullshit (or in the case of this song, “bird shit”). Like most, I breastfeed shamelessly on the allusive accessibility of the opening piano line, or the immediacy of words like “I’d be happy as hell if you stayed for tea”. But later these tangible trajectories quickly dissolve in foreground/background disorienting dialogues. Vernon’s vision traces a mythical path in such conflicting suggestions, a path that varies with each listening, and probably will vary with the next albums to come. His voice, as always, will remain the only trustable, guiding structure.

In only 10 years, Vernon positioned himself as that father figure, for me and the music industry. Has it been only 3 albums? He gave voice to many with his own festival in Eau Claire, and assured his presence through numerous collaborations of all scales (from Kanye to this year’s Francis and the Light). Bon Iver were once revered as an easy folk band, but it appears ‘logical’ and ‘in line’ with this ascension that “22, A Million” is their most experimental and obscure record. It’s quite claustrophobic in fact compared even to the cabin made “C Em Am Em” sing-along progressions. This voluntary opacity isn’t a surprise also for bands struggling with 2nd or 3rd albums, panicked with stardom (or grammys). The result is too often a naive form of conceptual obscurantism, a way to shout something like: “People give me credits, but I’m not obvious. I’m genuine. I’m fucked up. I’m a dark creator.” To be honest, it is slightly the case here: the album’s cryptic visuals and song titles are mysterious (or fucked-up) for about 2 minutes, but perdure as uninteresting, unnecessary packaging gimmicks. Still, the album, and “33, ‘GOD’” in particular, ranks on the good side of the catchy-experimental trend, as Vernon got us accustomed to use his pervasive vulnerability as the code-cracking tool to float over the opacity of his text. It is an intimate, subtle, relationship, and here again his trademark voice will succeed to draw you as close as always.

LISTEN TO THE COMPLETE PLAYLIST HERE

via SPOTIFY

ALSO ON DEEZER HERE

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