#i was able to get back to work last nite ^_^ might do more today

[skunkes]

Todays's recovery update

No more trapped gas pain when going to bed last nite, so gas pain was mostly for a night and a day

still sleeping on back just to not risk anything, but I always wake up on my side with my clothes bunched up against the incisions which is a bit physically irritating

Yesterday I was holding on for dear life during and after a sneeze due to the pain, but today ive been coughing and it still Hurts, but its not the very bold and present "oh my god what if i just ruptured something somehow" pain. Its dulled a bit, I just need to brace a pillow against my abdomen to prevent some of that recoil LOL....i can also chuckle -> laugh again, I just have to keep the laugh from dipping too low into the belly hee hee

Pain now has settled into the mildest Sore After Working Out ache, even when I get up from bed "wrong"and use my abdominal muscles to do so the pain is small and fleeting, but I do also feel soreness up the ribs now

Discomfort has also now shifted to being in the incisions primarily.... occasionally I get pangs of like. You know when you scratch a mosquito bite until it bleeds and now it hurts AND it itches in a strange dulled way since it's competing with the raw pain? Like that...i thought the "itching" described in the experience wld be a more standard itch but its a different kind of pained pinchy itching, due to the dry surgical glue stretching my skin.... And I'm also still getting pangs of feeling like someones tugging on my bellybutton from the inside with a string

I have still only taken 2 of my prescribed 600 mg ibuprofens, on the day and night of the surgery. I did not have to touch the tylenol with codeine at all.

OH and I guess I did of course get the post surgery "bloating", my stomach looks a bit bigger from the side...I was most worried about this because I saw some ppl say it made them look pregnant which horrified me to think about and I was avoiding mirrors, but it just looks like when I've had a big meal, and it has also not been a present Feeling in these past 3 days ykwim (like i dont Feel "bloated" but it is of course a response my body had to being surgerized ykwim)

Another thing is in my home we serve ourselves water from a 5 Gallon Jug of water from a water mill, and you have to press down on a pump to get it out. Yesterday (and before) I was still struggling to press down with my arm, bc the force to pump the water up, and bracing my body still involved my abdominal muscles, but today I can do it without strain ^_^

[etherealwaifgoddess]

Maybe I Am? - Chpt.2

Characters: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Summary: Steve takes a risk and the guys go out on a “date”. Master list HERE

Content Warning: first “date” cuteness, making out 

Word Count: 2.5k

Author’s Note: Hello lovelies! Today is one of those days where I am eternally grateful for having a “draft” option. Because honestly, ya girl is exhausted. So yay for drafts! Enjoy chapter two. I’m honestly too tired to give ya’ll a better note right now. :-\   XOXO - Ash

Chapter Two

Steeeeve [9:32:08PM]: Hey, it’s Steve.

Bucky Barnes [9:32:47PM]: hi steve

Steeeeve [9:33:15PM]: I had a lot of fun meeting up today.

Bucky Barnes [9:33:39PM]: me 2

Steve huffed staring at Bucky’s second generic response. He was usually so much more lively. Steve took a long sigh and started texting what he needed to get off his chest.

Steeeeve [9:35:21PM]: I’m sorry if I came off as confused or misleading. 

Steeeeve [9:35:26PM]: I didn’t mean to do that. But I am kind of confused right now. 

Steeeeve [9:35:35PM]: I spent so much time liking the idea of you, and you in real life was even more amazing than I could have expected. But I’ve never dated a guy before and I never expected to want to. And now I think I do. 

Steeeeve [9:35:49PM]: I’m sorry. This probably isn’t any less confusing. I’m apparently really bad at this lol. I guess what I’m trying to say is, will you go out on a maybe-date with me? I want to try and see how I feel. I don’t want to string you on, but I want to try.

Bucky stared at the flurry of texts coming into his phone. Damn, serial texter much? He read and re-read Steve texts a few times, chewing nervously his bottom lip, trying to find a response. He wasn’t willing to let his heart get trample on again, not after Brock. But he really liked Steve and if there was a chance Steve might like him too, it was too good to pass up. He had a distinct feeling he was going to regret it, but he tapped out the only honest response he could think of.

Bucky Barnes [9:44:13PM]: i like u 2 steve. i get that ur confused. lets try ur maybe-date and see how it goes? if it goes well cool, if not no hard feelings. k?

Steeeeve [9:45:20PM]: Thank you. Really, thank you for being so great about this. Can we get dinner one night this week? 

Bucky Barnes [9:45:55PM]: im free any nite but tues

Steeeeve [9:46:10PM]: I can do Friday night around 7. There’s a really great Mexican place a few blocks over from the gym if you’re willing to schelp all the way over to Park Slope. 

Bucky Barnes [9:46:31PM]: sounds good. see u then

Bucky sighed, putting his phone away into the pocket of his favorite old hoodie. He had a date. A maybe-date, but for some reason that felt good enough for him at the moment.

xxXxx

Steve discovered the best part of being able to text Bucky wasn’t just that their chatting was no longer limited to when they were both near a computer, but that they now had a full range of emojis, memes, and GIFs at their disposal. He could now send Bucky random funny things he found during the day and he felt a little proud when Bucky would send back a string of laughing emojis, knowing he had brightened the other man’s day a little. He had worried with their maybe-date looming things might be a little awkward but if anything they were going even better. By the time Friday came Steve was genuinely looking forward to their maybe-date. He had even gone out on Wednesday before his shift at the gym to pick up a set of clothes that were distinctly not gym wear. He couldn’t remember the last time he bought a button up shirt but he had to admit the blue and white checked shirt looked nice on him. He was trying not to stress over the maybe-date but he felt this gnawing need to know, definitively, if he was truly interested in Bucky, or just the fantasy of WinterBae. 

Steve raced home Friday to shower and change, hoping he’d left himself enough time to do all that and still make it over to Los Aztecas in time. Taking the time to slick back his hair and do a quick shave, Steve was hustling out the door only to realize he’d forgotten the bottle of wine once he got outside. After a fast double back for the wine he was on his way, making it to the tiny authentic Mexican restaurant with three minutes to spare. He had barely stopped walking when he saw Bucky hopping out of an uber. Steve felt a little flutter at the sight of Bucky and he took it as a good sign. 

Bucky looked amazing in his dark skinny jeans and a silky looking black shirt. A minimalist necklace was around his throat, the simple bar resting just below the wings of his collarbones. Steve noticed Bucky had swapped out the cheery beaded bracelets he’d worn on Sunday for a set of sleek silver and leather ones. He looked like he belonged on the cover of a fashion magazine and Steve felt ridiculous in what Sam had teased was his bible salesman outfit. 

“Heya.” Bucky greeted warmly, extending an arm for a half hug.

“Hey,” Steve echoed, hugging back with his free hand. “Ready for the best Mexican food of your life?” 

“Definitely, let’s go.” 

Steve led Bucky inside the little restaurant, its cozy decor making the place feel intimate instead of cramped. Steve had called ahead for reservations so they were whisked off to a table as soon as he gave the concierge his name. Bucky was looking around fascinated, taking in all the colorful decorations. 

“It’s really something, huh?” Steve prompted with a smile.

Bucky nodded in agreement, “Yeah, it’s beautiful. So much art packed into so little space. Thanks for bringing me here, Steve.” 

“It’s one of my favorite places in the area, mostly for the tacos but also for the art. I got my degree in fine art before I switched gears and went back to get certified in exercise science.” 

“That’s quite a switch.” Bucky laughed.

“Art will always be my first love, but it’s not exactly profitable. And once I got healthier I knew I wanted to help other people do the same. I was really sick as a kid and didn’t hit any major growth spurts until I was almost 21. After that, I worked out a lot getting used to my new body and fell in love with the gym.” 

“Wow. I’m glad you were able to get healthier, and it’s sweet you’re trying to give back to others with that.” 

“Do you go to a gym? I won’t be offended that it’s a competitor, I swear.”  

Bucky barked out a laugh, “No. God, no. I am perfectly happy with not having abs or a totally flat stomach as long as waffles exist.” 

Steve couldn’t help his eyes dropping to Bucky’s stomach which honestly couldn’t have had more than the smallest layer of padding across it. “That’s okay too. Waffles are pretty great.” 

The waitress stopped by to uncork their wine and drop off a basket of fresh tortilla chips and salsa verde. 

“What did you bring?” Bucky asked as he took the glass of white wine Steve had poured him.

“Albariño. A waitress here recommended it a few years ago and now it’s my go to. It’s light and crisp, and kinda citrusy? I’m not a wine snob but it’s damn good and goes really well with tacos. I hope you like white wine, I forgot to ask.” 

“I’ve yet to meet a white wine I didn’t like, so you’re safe.” Bucky sipped the wine and his eyes lit up, “Oh yeah, this is good. I’ll be hunting this down next time I go shopping.” 

“You can get it over at the little wine boutique near the farmers market in Sunset Park. They always have this kind.”

“Nice, I’ll have to check it out. My sister will love this the next time she visits.” 

The conversation flowed as the basket of tortilla chips disappeared, only ebbing when their platters arrived and they tucked into their food. Steve had ordered his usual taco platter while Bucky opted for the taquitos platter, an assortment of slow roasted meats wrapped in thin crispy shells. He let out a groan at his first bite that had Steve’s heart stuttering in his chest. The maybe-date had mostly felt like a friend-date up until that point, though Steve had to admit there was a tiny flutter of like there too. But the noise Bucky made and the expression on his face had Steve thinking anything but friends only thoughts. 

Bucky caught Steve staring at him as he licked a dribble of sauce off his bottom lip. He hadn’t gotten a distinct date-date vibe from Steve but the look on the blonde’s face was priceless. Bucky thought he probably had made a similar one the first time he saw Devon Sawa in Wild America when he was 12. He had never stood a chance of being straight after that. Testing the waters a little bit, Bucky smirked at Steve, making it abundantly clear he’d been caught staring. Steve flushed and Bucky’s smile widened. There might be hope after all.

Steve wasn’t sure if it was the wine or too many tacos but by the time dinner was over he felt glued to his seat. He hated knowing the evening was coming to an end and wanted to do something, anything, to prolong it. The waitress dropped off the sales receipt with a pen and Steve tried to steady his hand as he signed his name. He knew he needed to muster up his courage or he would be saying goodbye to Bucky in mere minutes.

“Thanks again for paying.” Bucky said after draining the last of his wine, “This was really nice.” 

“It was.” Steve agreed, seeing his chance, “You know, I have another bottle of this wine back at my place if you wanna come over for a bit. Maybe you could help me find that movie app you were telling me about for the Fire Stick?”

“Sure, I’m happy to help. I won’t say no to more of that wine either.” Bucky stamped down the hopeful cheering in his chest that Steve was inviting him over. The poor guy probably didn’t mean that anything would happen other than wine and tech help but Bucky could always dream. He would be respectful though, he resolved to himself. He’d never dated a guy who was questioning his sexuality before and Bucky didn’t want to push too far too soon. Bucky figured it was best to let Steve set the pace and just hope his heart didn’t get run over in the process. 

Steve’s apartment was only four blocks from the restaurant, a second floor walk up in an old converted brownstone. It was nicer than Bucky’s little hole in the wall apartment and even had a small second bedroom that Steve had set up as a home office. After giving Bucky a quick tour, he led them to the kitchen to pull another bottle of Albariño out of his cabinet. Passing a stemless glass to Bucky, he poured them both a generous amount of wine which they carried out to the living room so Bucky could show Steve the app he’d mentioned during dinner. A few clicks and a quick download later, Steve had access to a ridiculous amount of free movies. 

“This is so great.” Steve praised, clicking through the different options. “Oh I love this one!”

“Hm?” Bucky looked up from his glass to see Steve hovering over 10 Things I Hate About You. “Oh that one is great. I remember wanting to be Patrick Verona when I grew up after seeing that.” 

Steve gave an amused side eyed look at Bucky. “I think you did a decent job.” he teased, throwing on the movie out of sheer impulse.

Bucky laughed, “You’re sweet. But god knows I’ll never be that smooth.” 

“You’re better off than me. I’ve been told I’m hopeless on more than one occasion.” 

“You hold your own, Rogers.” Bucky assured him, reaching over to take Steve’s hand in his, stroking the pad of his thumb over the ridges of Steve’s knuckles. 

Steve blinked slowly, looking from their joined hands up to Bucky’s face. It felt good, that fluttery feeling stirring in his gut at the contact. He gave Bucky a smile and squeezed his hand gently, making sure his consent was clear.

The movie rolled and they sipped their wine as Patrick did his best to woo Kat. Bucky slowly nudged closer to Steve until he was pressed against his side, his head leaning against Steve’s shoulder. He was warm and comfortable and completely unwilling to move by the time Letters to Cleo played into the credits. 

“I can’t believe it’s after eleven already.” Steve yawned. 

Bucky yawned next, set off by Steve’s. “Same. I had a really good night, Steve.” He looked up curiously, wondering if Steve had found any new revelations on their maybe-date. 

“Me too. This was… really nice. Hey, um, I know this was a maybe-date, but maybe um…”

Bucky shifted so he could sit up taller and face Steve while he fumbled for words.

“I, um, I’d really like to kiss you right now.” Steve blurted out, looking equal parts excited and terrified. 

Bucky’s smile was like the sun. “Okay, yeah.” Bucky reached out to cup Steve’s cheek, going agonizingly slow to give Steve a chance to bolt if he needed it. He leaned up a little and Steve craned his neck down, tentatively meeting Bucky’s lips with his own. 

A soft press, a pause, another soft press, and then the kiss deepened, Bucky’s lips parting to slot Steve’s with his. Steve let out a choked off moan, unable to believe what he was doing and how good it felt. He let a hand rake through Bucky’s hair and it only made him want to feel more of the silky locks. The scent of cedar and teak from his cologne filled Steve’s nose and though it was very distinctly male, Steve couldn’t get enough of it. It was so much more than he could have expected but also not nearly enough. He was breathing raggedly when he finally pulled back, repressing a shudder at the well kissed expression on Bucky’s face. His full bottom lip was shining and red, his eyes heavy lidded and his chest heaving just as much as Steve’s. 

“Whoa.” Steve finally breathed out in amazement.

“Yeah, whoa.” Bucky agreed. “So does this help in sorting out if this was a date-date?”

“I think it was definitely a date-date.” 

“I’m glad. And do you think you’d want to try another date sometime?”

“When are you free next?” Steve chuckled, only half kidding. 

“Easy there, pal.” Bucky warned lightly, patting Steve’s ridiculously broad chest. “We’ll find a day again soon.” 

Steve nodded, knowing Bucky was right for wanting to take things slow. He led Bucky over to the door, giving him one last quick kiss goodbye before the brunette headed out into the early summer night. Steve was still floored by his own reactions to Bucky but it felt so right that he couldn’t agonize over it for long. 

[weemsbotts]

A Love Story During the 1918 Pandemic

By: Lisa Timmerman, Executive Director

 Driving through Dumfries provides a curious mix of 18-20th century buildings depending upon where you look. While you can visit The Weems-Botts Museum (face-to-face and virtually!), you may miss or overlook the rich and unique character of our charming small town in the early 1900s.

According to our oral history records, Myrtle Virginia Rainey met Elvan Fitzhugh Keys at Dumfries United Methodist Church in 1917. Mr. Keys bid two dollars on a boxed lunch prepared by Ms. Rainey, an auction that featured a homemade lunch with the chef! The lunch of fried chicken and cake made with fresh coconut led to a lifelong romance and companionship. Thanks to family records and the Dumfries community willingness to share their stories and letters with HDVI, we can read some of the letters they wrote to each other during the flu pandemic.

Dumfries, Virginia. 02/10/1918, Myrtle Rainey to Elvan Keys:

“Dearest Elvan,

Hope you got back to Quantico all OK last night. But I guessed you was tired and sleepy when you got there. All the school have gone to Quantico to see Billy Sunday they come after me but Mamma and Papa is both sick now and I have so much work to do. Don’t let that old Spanish Influenza keep you away. I am not a bit afraid of it. Hope you can come up Wednesday nite for preaching. I am going to preaching tonight but it is so lonesome without you. Please bring me your picture you come over next time. Mammie Sisson has just looked over my letter for mistakes. If there are any left consider them kisses.

I remain as ever your true friend. PS. Please answer real soon.”

Quantico, Virginia. 02/11/1918, Elvan Keys to Myrtle Rainey:

 “Dearest Myrtle,

I went to the office at noon and got your lovely little letter. I think it was so sweet of you to write me and I was awful glad to get your letter. I was sorry to hear your father is now sick. How is your mother? I got back safely Sunday night but it was a lonely walk with nothing but my ugly shadow to keep me company. I am always lonesome when I leave you. The snow looked like diamonds glittering from the trees. I most know you are skipping all over this letter to see if I am coming up Wednesday night so I might as well tell you now as later on that I will be unable to come. But I would only be able to stay one hour. It takes me so long to walk there and back. I would come if I could stay longer. No I won’t forget the picture.

As ever yours”

By the fall of 1918, the Influenza pandemic noticeably hit Virginia and at least 16,000 Virginians died. Jumping from military bases to cities to small towns caused mass disorder, and health officials advised Americans to wear masks and remain socially distant. Highly contagious with severe symptoms ranging from high fever to aches, many people also caught pneumonia and subsequently died. The Virginia State Board of Health reported that in thirteen months, the virus infected 326,195 people, killing 15,679 of them. Keep in mind that some rural and isolated areas did not file death certificates and many people may have remained ill at home, further spreading the infection in the family. Thanks to the nurses, doctors, and volunteers, Virginia eventually reopened (when they lifted the ban on public gatherings in late October 1918, another surge occurred early in December 1918). Interestingly, people petitioned Governor Westmoreland Davis to allow the selling of more alcohol to pharmacies as officials hoped alcohol could aid in combating the illness. Sadly, this pandemic faded from American memory due to a combo of factors: avoidance from the government whether to directly respond or even acknowledge it, other historically significant events, such as the Depression, WWII, etc.

While we can empathize with the frustration and desire to see our friends and family, we can also open our tablets, phones, and other devices to stay connected with our communities. Instead, Mr. & Mrs. Keys relied on memories, mailed letters, and pictures to not feel so lonely and remind themselves of better times. Mr. & Mrs. Keys survived the pandemic and by all accounts led a very happy life. For their 25th wedding anniversary, Mrs. Keys spared no expense to throw a party. “She was famous in the town for entertaining and she wanted this one to very special. She wanted to celebrate a quarter century of a happy marriage in a big way…One hundred invitations were sent, the cake ordered, the house cleaned from top to bottom, special clothes purchased, menu planned, the silver polished, tables and chairs borrowed, tablecloths bought. The house hummed with activity for two months before the party.” Mrs. Myrtle Keys died in 1969 at the age of 66 and Mr. Elvan Keys in 1977 at the age of 80.

Special thanks to the Keys family, Jeff McGlothlin, and Jeanne Martin for sharing their wonderful stories and reminiscences.

Note: You can help Historic Dumfries Virginia by joining our non-profit organization today! Thanks to all HDVI members that continue to support us and local history. Interested in a virtual presentation on Dumfries? Set your price with a donation ticket to our “An Artful Fellow: Slavery in Dumfries in the 18th Century” presentation – tickets here).

(Sources: HDVI Archival Files; Encyclopedia Virginia: The Influenza Pandemic in Virginia (1918-1919)).

[ohblackdiamond]

little t&a (paul/gene, nc-17) (part 3 of 29)

          Paul fretted and complained ad-nauseum. He didn’t want to see the psychic this soon; it was too much pressure. He didn’t have any clothes. Or rather, he had clothes, just nothing he wanted to wear. Gene knew he had at least two dresses—the black floral with the bell sleeves from his drag birthday party back in January, and a black polka-dot number from another party—and a substantial assortment of women’s blouses. What he didn’t have, and what Gene knew for a fact he didn’t have, was anything that fit correctly. No pants that would’ve worked. All Paul’s blouses and dresses were cut far too widely at the shoulders for him now. He’d be drowning in them.

           “Look, Paul, you can’t run around in a bathrobe all day,” Gene countered, although he suspected that was what Paul had been doing for most of the last five days. “What did you wear to Peaches?”

           “The dress from my birthday. It’s in the washing machine.”

           “Are you even wearing underwear?”

           At any other time, with a girl that looked like Paul, the question would’ve been a teasing come-on. Right now, it was a serious indictment of his hygiene.

           “I have on boxers.” Paul shot him an aggrieved look as he said it. “What’s it matter to you, anyway?”

           “They’re probably about to fall off, is why it matters.” Gene grunted, trying to think. “What shoes did you wear out?”

           “I stuffed some heels with tissue paper.”

           That was a start, at least. Gene sighed.

           “You’ll feel better with real clothes on. And I’ll feel better when your tits aren’t falling out of your bathrobe.”

           Paul glanced down reflexively and bit his lip, untying and then retying the robe a little more snugly.

           “I’ll get the other dress,” he mumbled, padding out of the kitchen without a backwards glance. Gene watched him retreat, waiting until he heard the bedroom door shut before he got up and opened Paul’s pantry door again, pushing past the groceries he’d already shelved.

           He didn’t really expect to find anything good in there. Paul was almost pathologically afraid of gaining weight. He was always at his worst about it right before tours, too. Gene would catch him at the pool, staring at his chest and stomach like they’d personally offended him just by existing at all. He honestly seemed to think he could starve his way into a set of abs. The burden of being the band’s sex symbol, Gene supposed, pushing aside some packages of instant ramen and TVP (weird, if Paul was trying vegetarianism, that’d just add another expense to their tour budget—not that they’d have a tour if he didn’t get fixed) to find a small, shameful stack of Hershey’s chocolate bars.

           He deserved something after the stress and frustrated arousal of the last hour or so. Gene took the entire stack of candy back to the kitchen island. He hadn’t even sat down before tearing into the first chocolate bar, and he’d only gotten two rows of it down his throat before Paul reemerged, in the black polka-dot dress from the drag party.

           For a minute, Gene forgot he was eating.

           Oh, the dress didn’t fit right. Too baggy in the shoulders, as expected, and the style was frumpy, not really showing off his figure much, besides his chest, still not contained with a bra. But Paul looked… pretty good. Definitely better than he had in the bathrobe. His curly hair was a lot less matted, and it seemed like he was standing a bit straighter.

           “Cute.”

           Paul shifted uncomfortably.

           “I still don’t want to see the psychic today.”

           “I haven’t made an appointment yet. It’s fine.” It was late afternoon, anyway. Gene didn’t know what hours psychics kept—if Ace was their clientele, chances were good they weren’t nine to five—but something kept him from trying Suzie’s number yet. He wasn’t sure if it was just not wanting to put Paul through more discomfort than he had to today, or if it was something else. Something like wanting to spend some time with him.

           “You’re eating my candy.”

           Gene snapped a clean row off the chocolate bar, holding it up to Paul like an offering. Paul shook his head.

          “I’ll pay you back with dinner, then, how’s that?”

           “Will you?”

           “Dinner and a movie.”

           “Oh, come off it, Gene—”

            “Takeout and a movie. How about it?”

           “Only if it’s on Masterpiece Theatre.”

           “No. You’re fucking miserable. I’m getting you out of the house at least for the movie bit.” Gene started to smile, reaching over and sticking the last bit of chocolate in Paul’s mouth on impulse. Paul looked embarrassed, but he took it, licking his lips after he swallowed. It was more distracting than Gene had expected. “Have you seen Smokey and the Bandit yet?”

           “No.”

           “I haven’t, either. C’mon. You can drive us to the movie theater.” In what he hoped might be the clincher, Gene added two words he’d rarely spoken. “I’ll pay.”

           “But it’s like you said. I don’t have a license right now.”

           “You’re also an ex-cabbie. I’m not too concerned.”

           Paul’s brows were still furrowed. But it looked like he was considering it.

           “Then what about getting recognized? Maybe I don’t need to worry about that right now, but you do, and—”

           “So let me worry about that, okay? Just relax.” He was trying too hard, maybe. Shrugging off legitimate concerns. If Paul did get pulled over, chances were pretty good the officer would look the other way at his lack of a matching license. Gene could play the celebrity card if he had to in order to evade any real trouble. He was loath to do that under normal circumstances, and he didn’t enjoy the thought of breaking the law, if only by a supernatural technicality, but if it got Paul out of the house, then he’d go for it.

           Getting recognized at the movie theater was the problem—Gene didn’t know how Paul would react to cameras flashing in his face when he was like this—but he was prepared to risk it anyway. Besides, half of being recognized lay in dressing the part of a rockstar, and that went for whoever he had on his arm, too. The blue jeans and polyester button-down he was wearing right now were toned-down enough from his usual fare, and Paul’s dress was oversized and out of style. Hopefully, all that would let them go to the movies unnoticed.

           “Okay.”

           “You’ll go?”

           “Yeah. I’ll go.”

           “Good.” The corner of Gene’s mouth lifted up. “Cheapest date I’ve had in years, Paul.”

           Paul flipped him off and snatched the rest of the stack of chocolate bars back. It was, Gene thought, a small price to pay to watch Paul flush all the way to his neck.

--

           They didn’t get pulled over, and they didn’t get recognized. Paul opened the door for Gene into the theater, the way he always did, which afforded him some weird looks from the other moviegoers, but that was about it. Smooth sailing.

           Gene got takeout from a Chinese restaurant nearby afterwards. They ended up eating it in the car on the drive back, Paul picking out eggrolls from the boxes and stuffing them in his mouth guilelessly. Gene got the impression he hadn’t eaten all day. He even tried to eat the fried rice while he drove, with the box in his lap, but Gene put a stop to that, and after awhile he started sticking forkfuls of rice in front of Paul’s face as a compromise. Apart from nearly missing a turn a few miles from his house, it didn’t seem like it distracted Paul too badly. If he’d noticed Gene’s pants tenting with every forkful, he never mentioned it.

           In fact, it seemed like Paul was in better shape now. The only time he really faltered was when he turned on the radio, to check on the traffic, only for “Rock and Roll All Nite” to come blaring in. He didn’t say anything, but his shoulders slumped, and he turned it off so quickly, and so hard, Gene was almost afraid he’d broken the radio button.

           “We’ll get you fixed, Paul, I promise.”

           “What if we can’t?”

           “We’ll do it.” Gene didn’t want to think of the alternative. Paul had probably thought enough about it for both of them. They’d never be able to keep the band going with a girl fronting. Their image wasn’t right for that. Maybe Paul could keep writing songs, or Gene could pull some strings and get him signed to Casablanca as a solo act… no, that’d kill him. All of that would just kill him. Despite all the cracks forming in the band, Paul wanted to go solo about as much as Frank Sinatra wanted to join the Beach Boys. “Trust me.”

           Paul nodded dully, before glancing up at the rearview mirror. He seemed to only just then realize he was pulling into his own driveway.

           “Oh, shit. Did you want me to take you home? I forgot.”

           “Nah, it’s fine.”

           “You sure? I don’t mind driving.”

           “I’m sure.”

           “Then use my phone and call your chauffeur.” Paul parked the car, automatically trying to put the keys in a pocket the dress didn’t have. Gene shook his head, getting out of the car.

           “It’s past eleven. I’ll just stay at your place.” That was better for both of them. More convenient than Gene having his driver take him home, and then back the next day. Plus, he figured Paul could use the company. He had the feeling the kid who’d brought his groceries and Peter were the only other people Paul had spoken to since he’d been cursed. “Hell, I’ll even shower.”

           “You’d better.” Paul unlocked the door, letting him in. Gene stepped inside, expecting Paul to point him toward the guest bedroom. Instead, he hesitated, taking off the tissue-stuffed heels and sticking them on a shoe rack without a word.

           “I will.”

           “Would you stay with me?” Paul burst into the words all of a sudden, then added, “Not like that. I don’t wanna fuck you.”

           That made one of them, Gene thought dryly. God. Someone as self-conscious as Paul couldn’t be completely oblivious to the effect his new form was having on Gene. Couldn’t think Gene was just teasing him. Gene wasn’t sure if it was denial on Paul’s part or what. Sleeping in the same bed as Paul, when Paul was a shade under six-foot, hairy-chested, and guaranteed to be prickly-faced by noon had never been an enticing prospect, just something he’d had to deal with every so often over the years. Sleeping in the same bed as Paul now that he was a chick…

           “I’m the same person, you know.” So he wasn’t oblivious. Gene didn’t know if that was reassuring, as he followed Paul into his bedroom. The bed was unmade, and the whole room smelled like Aramis cologne. “Just don’t wake me up with a hard-on. I’ll make it up to you later.”

           “Sounds promising.”

           “Shut up.” Paul opened one of the dresser drawers, thumbing through the contents. “You still sleep in pajamas?”

           “Only if I’m spending the night alone.”

           Paul tossed a pair of pajama bottoms in his face.

           Paul generally slept naked or in boxers, as far as Gene remembered from the times they’d shared a hotel room. Selfishly, he was hoping that wouldn’t have changed. The glances he’d gotten of Paul’s breasts earlier were mostly too brief for proper appreciation.

           Instead, after Gene had showered and put on the borrowed pajama bottoms, Paul got a t-shirt and another pair of boxers out of the dresser and headed off to the bathroom, returning with them on, the hem of the shirt nearly lined up with where the boxers ended. Disappointing, but not surprising.

           “You don’t have to cover up because of me.”

           “If I thought you couldn’t keep your hands off me, I wouldn’t have asked you to stick around.”

           Gene didn’t know how to answer that.

           Paul tossed and turned that night, which wasn’t abnormal for him, but kept Gene up. At one point, the twitchy way he kept moving around made him tempted to ask Paul where his hand was, but he bit back the comment, reaching over instead to find Paul facedown against the mattress. Gene grasped his shoulder.

           “You’re making the bed creak,” he mumbled out, and felt Paul still against him for a few gratifying seconds before he fell asleep.

--

           The truth was, Paul had been trying to get off.

           He had been every night for the last three nights, once the initial horror had worn off enough for him to be dejectedly curious. It hadn’t ever worked, and not just because he’d get spooked before he got very far. Every time he slipped a finger inside—not even a full finger, just barely past the first knuckle—it honestly hurt. Even tracing a finger across his clit wasn’t some quick-trigger to pleasure the way he’d always assumed. Everything just felt sore and tender.

           He knew it couldn’t be a virginity thing. A regular chick could get off on her own without a problem. He’d seen that plenty. He was just stuck. It figured, really, to get trapped in a body that couldn’t even orgasm properly. No distractions from how damn miserable he was, with his life caving in on him, Gene totally unable to hide how much he wanted to fuck him—and the worst part was, Paul couldn’t find the dignity or the self-respect to call him out on it. Some pathetic part of him was actually enjoying the flickers of want that kept crossing Gene’s face. He’d never garnered Gene’s attention as a guy, not that he’d expected to, but—

           He was thinking too much. He hadn’t been able to call up Hilsen since this shit had started, which didn’t help at all. But what could a therapist say to him now, anyway? Could he self-help his way into getting his dick back? With the way things were going, nothing was going to happen. He’d thought Peter’s coke habit was what would put them all out on their asses. But instead it looked like Paul was the one who was about to destroy the band just as they’d gotten a top-ten hit. He’d never get to play for another audience again. In a couple of weeks, he’d have to leave his own house and be assumed missing or dead, with all his assets taken by his parents. Then he’d probably be living on Gene’s dime for as long as it took for Gene to quit feeling pity for him, and that was if he was lucky. That was if Gene and the other guys didn’t take all matters into their own hands and get another frontman. Probably use one of his abandoned makeup designs for him, too. Paul exhaled softly against the pillows, too sickened by the thought to want to pursue it further.

           But something had happened. Just for a little bit, when Gene had touched him. Paul’s hand was between his thighs, furtively searching for a little warmth, and then he’d felt Gene’s fingers curve around his shoulder. Not rough, and not tender, just there, firm and steadying. Paul’s hips twitched almost on their own at the touch, and all of a sudden, something hot burst deep within him, and he felt his own fingers actually sliding briefly against his folds. Just briefly. For the first time, he’d gotten wet.

           He lay there a long time, past when Gene’s hand slipped away as Gene fell asleep, caught between trying to will that feeling back and fearing he’d only wake Gene up in the process. In the end Paul compromised, shamefully, scooting up close enough that he could smell the faint tinges of Chinese food on Gene’s breath as he slept. He’d forgotten to offer him a toothbrush before bed.

           Paul couldn’t remember daring to touch him, but he must have, at least in his sleep, because he woke up early the next morning with his face pressed against Gene’s bare arm, and drool pooling on the sheets.

[tessatechaitea]

Justice Society of America #7 (1993)

The fantasy: old white men are the heroes. The reality: old white men are the villains.

A Facebook memory from my friend Doom Bunny in 2012 came up today that made me cry. Not sobbing or anything! It just made me feel loved and noticed and, sure, proud of my past self. I'm not good at earnestness so please don't mock me or I'll retreat back into the safety of cynicism and sarcasm!

Doom Bunny might have taken the advice a bit too far.

One of the defining moments in my life that helped shape me into a better, more empathetic person was when I killed a massive wolf spider that had gotten into my room and was headed for my gerbil's cage. I caught it in a huge jar to take outside. The spider was so massive you could hear its fangs clink on the side of the jar. I went to go release it outside and was struck by a sudden terror that it would come back. Not the kind of terror that involves life and death decisions. More like the kind of terror that is just a rush of creepiness and discomfort at the prospect of the spider coming back and crawling on my while I slept. So, you know, not terror. But I treated the uncomfortable feeling like terror and decided I should probably kill the spider. Now, if it had been a small spider, I, like millions of people every day, would have probably crushed it without a thought and gone on with my day. But this spider was massive, probably the size of my palm. It wouldn't be a simple swat and done procedure. I tried filling the jar with some kind of cleaner in the hopes of poisoning it but that didn't work. So then I took a stick or something and began smashing it. It didn't die easily. It struggled and it put up a fight and it took multiple attempts to really smash it while in the jar. And even before I had delivered the killing blow, I knew I had made a terrible mistake. This spider didn't deserve this death. This wasn't a struggle to live. This wasn't part of nature. This spider was struggling against the pettiness of one human individual. The spider's only offense: giving me gooseflesh. But once I'd maimed the spider, I had to finish the onerous job. I cried afterward. I sobbed. I mourned this wretched beast. And maybe that's why Doom Bunny's memory made me cry. But I didn't just kill the spider that day. I killed a part of me. Luckily, it was a part of me that was useless and selfish and a thing I was well rid of. Maybe, as a rational justification to make a bleak act I participated in seem more uplifting, I can take solace in the idea that the spider, in death, was able to rise above its natural station. It was the Jesus Christ of spiders, dying so that so many more spiders could live. Who knows how many hundreds or thousands of spiders survived because of this one? And not only that, it was this sentiment (and seeing a documentary on Japanese "fishing" of dolphins) which turned me into a vegetarian. So the spider not only saved many spiders but many other (arguably higher-tier! Is that bad to suggest?!) creatures. Now, I'm not a vegetarian anymore. I was for about ten years and then got, well, a bit lazy and maybe a little less passionate. I got older and dumber. But I'm not what you'd call a meat-eater! I prefer lentils over steak (which is an easy comment to make because I can't even remember the last time I ate steak. I never really cared for it before I went veggie. The main reason I liked steak as a kid was the steak fries soaked in a little bit of steak juice (you know, blood?)). When I eat meat now, it's usually chicken or turkey. Not great, I know. I probably need to get out there and murder a turkey so I can be reminded how fucking terrible it is to kill something with your own hands. But that's part of it, you know? I'm not against eating meat. But we're going about it all wrong. It's too easy and too harmful. We should probably develop a system where people can only buy live animals and must do the killing and butchering themselves. Of course then only sadists will have the option of a delicious chorizo omelette at breakfast! The point is, yeah, I still eat meat. But I also don't rationalize my eating of it! I'm wrong in doing so. It's better for the world if humans, who have a choice in the matter being sentient and rational beings, would choose to stop. I try not to eat it much but that's just a little bit of a little thing and it doesn't make me "less wrong." I'm still just wrong. And I'm tired. And I'm old enough to hope the younger generations do better while I just get the fuck out of the way. Who are all these old people fighting change?! Why do they need to get so worked up about a world they're not going to be part of for much longer?! Let it go already! Especially old people with loads of money. I don't get how they still need to be angry about everything! You're set, you dolt! If you don't want to participate, go live in your vacation house and don't participate. But certainly don't actively try to hamper change! Christ, you're just obstinate dumb ass fools! Did I rant enough against old rich guys to distract from the fact that I had some turkey tacos for lunch? I hope so! Anyway, I guess the rant about old people hurting the world is a good enough segue back into this comic book about old people hurting the world. Not that the JSA is actively hurting the world! But their old man foes certainly are! Plus, I understand if you're old and powerful and rich and immortal, how you'd continue to fight change. But then again, if you're immortal and you've seen how you can never fight change, generation after generation, perhaps by continuing to fight against change, you're just showing how stupid you are? The JSA might not be actively hurting the world but it's still troubling that they think they need to be an active part of it. Just retire already and let the young heroes take over! Maybe, as Alan and Jay wanted at the beginning, stay accessible as mentors. But don't be dicks trying to push your old timey beliefs onto the young heroes' new and modern attitudes! Especially the ones that are sex positive and enjoy showing a lot of skin in their choice of costumes. Hooray for change!

Enough with being earnest! Let's now pretend her dad's advice was sexual in nature!

Jesse wanders into a part of the island that's off limits and after being attacked by guards trying to detain her for trespassing, she decides she now has a right to trespass. That's how law works, right? If I'm falsely accused of murder, I get to do one free murder! Ted Grant has been taken into custody by the Bahdnesian government because he interrupted a boxing match and beat the crap out of one of the fighters. Just because somebody is in a ring boxing doesn't mean anybody can enter the ring and start punching them. That's assault and I'm all for Ted Grant being arrested. Asshole thinks he can do whatever he wants just because he thinks of himself as a hero. Well, no more, old white man! There are consequences to your actions now!

The Atom doesn't think it's wrong to interfere in another country's arrest of a foreign national assaulting one of their own. No, what would be wrong is exposing the Justice Society of America's plans to infiltrate and spy on this nation.

The Atom rushes off to tell Alan and Jay about Ted being kidnapped. They heard Ted was injured and taken off for treatment which is a lie. Al tells them the truth but tries to make it sound like it was unjust. "Ted walloped some creep in the boxing ring and the guards dragged him away." Yeah. Of course they did! Ted wasn't supposed to be in the ring! IT WAS FUCKING ASSAULT! By the end, when we learn that the nation's king or manager or president, St. Germaine, is some villainous creep, all of the Justice Society's actions will be justified. But I want to point out that they have no justification for anything but observing right now! It's like that time in Star Trek: The Next Generation when one of the Captains of a Federation starship begins blowing up Cardassian science stations and supply vessels. They might have been up to no good but there was no proof! Picard does the right thing, in the end, by arresting the captain. Sure, the asshole captain was almost certainly right about the Cardassians being up to no good. But there was no proof! You can't just blow Cardassians up or disappear people from the streets of Portland simply because you suspect them of being up to no good. Fucking assholes. Jesse Quick runs into Doctor Mid-Nite who has found the Bahdnesians and a whole lot of other islanders as well. They're locked in cages underground because they're too sick or infirm to work in the tourist trap topside. So I guess the Justice Society of America has a right to start tearing this nation down. I guess. They're just lucky their instincts were so dead on or else Ted Grant's temper would have started an international incident with a happy-go-lucky nation. Doctor Mid-Nite has a plan to free the people from their cages.

It's not like she can, you know, run at super speed to do the same thing that distracting them with her tits did.

If The Flash had run into Doctor Mid-Nite, would the plan have been for Jay to strut out from the dark with his balls hanging out? Although it was a terrible and unnecessary plan, it might be one of my favorite bits because now I know Liberty Belle loved flashing her tits for justice. Johnny Thunder goes on a day trip to the place he first got his Thunderbolt genie. He discovers that after he left the island with their genie, the entire place fell apart. See, now that's appropriating a culture! Being white and selling burritos out of a burrito cart is just called having a job. The rest of the Justice Society just hangs out until they can hear from Doctor Mid-Nite. That doesn't happen until he interrupts St. Germain's speech about how great and beautiful and the best his island nation of Bahdnesia is.

Oh! The days when you could describe a terrible country treating its people in the worst ways imaginable and the first thing you would think of is Nazi Germany instead of present-day America!

St. Germain's plan was to create a sham utopia and then find a job as a consultant with other governments. After he was offered a job, he would blow a nuclear weapon in the volcano and destroy the place. But when the Justice Society appears, he throws his plan out the window and yells, in front of everybody at his press conference slash job interview, "I've got a bomb in the volcano and I'll blow up the entire island!" So I guess that's his reputation blown! Like the guy in The Dead Zone who uses the kid as a human shield and ruins his entire political career! Sort of. Anyway, that's a thing I just remembered that seemed somewhat like what just happened here, so it felt like a smart thing to add. During the tussle, Ted Grant knocks the detonator out of St. Germain's hands and it sets off the bomb. The volcano explodes but it doesn't destroy the island until the Justice Society can completely evacuate it. St. Germain just looks on and shouts, "My utopia!" That guy might need to get his head straight to decide what he really wants out of life. A utopia? A consulting job? Revenge on the Justice Society? In the end, Thunderbolt reveals that the only actual Bahdnesian left is Kiku, the young girl who has become Johnny Thunder's sidekick. So I guess that's the mystery solved that could have been solved two issues ago if Johnny had just thought to ask Thunderbolt one simple and direct question. Justice Society of America #7 Rating: B-. St. Germaine was yet another immortal guy who was once a Nazi. I think there's some legendary St. Germaine that's supposed to be immortal or something but I'm too hot and uncomfortable in my office to do any research about it right now. There's a similar character in Warren Ellis's Castlevania on Netflix. And, no, I don't want to discuss Warren Ellis. I don't actually want to disucss the Justice Society of America either! At least I only have three more issues to go!

[bluboothalassophile]

wow blu! your "The Wife & Ex-Husband" it's really good, very complex and a mess but really good, as always jay with his love for women, but he loves too much women hehe what have you got yourself in, jay? oh this is going to be fun, a little drama but can't wait to see/read the next chap. :))

Hello,

I’m glad you’ve enjoyed the first chapter of Forgot to Love You, I’ve actually got a whole story going for it for the time being so I hope you continue to enjoy it! Here’s the second chapter, also able to be found here:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21209576/chapters/50517893

Not Ex-Husband...

Raven survived the rest of her night by the skin of her teeth, which was why she felt so utterly exhausted walking into her hotel room, peeling off her painful heels, and undoing her complicated Viking braids. Dolphin had had a lot of fun with Raven’s hair earlier today and she had just left her friend’s work in place. Gingerly peeling off the loose, soft, skimpy red dress she dropped it to the floor as she walked for her bed, collapsing on it.

Right now she was just immensely happy she hadn’t taken up her uncle’s offer on taking the guest room in his penthouse, she just wanted peace.

Rolling over she stared at the ceiling, pulling her covers up to her chin as she thought about tonight. Specifically her ex-husband was on her mind, it hadn’t been long ago when he had been on her mind last time.

‘So what’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?’ he had chuckled, pressing his glass to his bruised cheek.

‘Probably the same thing a place like this is doing in a guy like you,’ she mused.

‘Ooo! A Deadpool fan!’ he mused.

‘Obviously,’ she had laughed gesturing to her shirt; the crude drawing of Deadpool shooting Francis while screaming ‘Where’s Francis!?’

‘Well, love, it’s a pleasure to meet you,’ he offered his hand.

‘Raven,’ she had said as she shook his hand. His lips brushed her bruised and bloodied knuckles.

‘Jason,’ he smiled with his split lip. He was devilishly handsome.

It was only later, she thought bitterly, that she learned he was there trying to get over a heartbreak. His fiancée; Donna; had run off with his best man; Roy Harper, and Raven had watched it on the media. From the safety of her family ranch in New Mexico while she plotted out her next moves.

She had gone to Hawaii to study humpback whales with Garth. She had stayed with the Curry family for two years, and in that time she had mastered surfing, gotten over her heartbreak, lived on a boat, went swimming in the reefs, learned to snorkel, and scuba dive, and got to survive loosing her mom. Lucifer and Maze had been most sympathetic to her plight, but they didn’t know the whole story. Only that she had met a guy in New Zealand, fallen hard and fast for him and it was all a mistake. She had never told them she married the guy, or that she had married him in a drunken haze that she couldn’t remember.

Everyday since she had left was a struggle not to call Jason, not to turn around and go back to ruin his life. Raven couldn’t do that to the man, he was just too good for her. He didn’t even know how good he was, and that was what made it all the more painful in her mind. He didn’t know what she was capable of, or what she’d do, he didn’t know how far she could go to survive or how horrible she could truly be. They were friends, people who just clicked together like old friends, and it had worked. Jason had made her happy, and she knew she’d ruin him if she stayed. She ruined everything afterall.

Her phone buzzed which had her picking it up as she fought her heavy eyes and stared at the simple text from Jason.

-Can we grab some coffee tomorrow? We need to talk.

Simple, neat, to the point. He was always to the point. Raven looked at the clock, wincing at the time then she looked at the text again.

-Can’t do coffee in the morning, how about lunch?

She kicked herself for offering to spend more time with him, after all she was his vacation mistake.

-Sure, still like Thai?

-Yes.

-I got a place, want me to get you?

-Sure. I’m staying at LUX.

-I’ll txt before I come

-ok. Nite.

She dropped her phone before rolling over and staring out her window at the lights of LA. She had no idea why she was doing this. He was the ex-husband! They had parted, on good terms even. Though she supposed he had more questions for her because she had just left him with three things before she had run off.

Closing her eyes she saw that moment when she knew this was all a huge vacation mistake.

She had come rushing down to the lobby on the phone, negotiating with the airlines to get back to Colorado; Durango, where her mom was hospitalized. It had taken her an over a day, with multiple airlines, and her uncle fast tracking her money and getting her shortcuts, to get back stateside. Raven had jogged into the lobby to see him with a woman who looked like a gorgeous model.

The other woman; who she would later learn was Donna Troy, Princess of Greece, sister to the Queen; Diana Prince; was tall, almost as tall as Jason was, long curly black hair, and features of a Greek Goddess. Raven wanted to punch the woman in her stupid face, but knew she couldn’t, especially when the woman grabbed Jason, spun him to her and kissed him. Raven had bolted at that sight; because she knew she couldn’t handle that and she ran for a lawyer. Drawing up the divorce was quick and simple, because she and Jason had shared nothing and nothing was in each other’s name, she also laughed it off as a drunk mistake.

Once all that was taken care of, she had gone to her hotel, he wasn’t there, so she packed up. Leaving him with a brief note, the papers, and the ring she grabbed her bags and ran for the airport with her passport in hand. She had made it to her gate, barely, had her stuff mailed to her and made it to the States in the span of twenty-seven hours. Literally forty hours after she’d gotten the call from her aunt that her mom was in the hospital and her stepfather didn’t think her mom had much time.

~~~*~*~*~~~

Jason stood in his hotel, staring out at the city, smiling a bit at the text Raven had sent him saying night, and slipped it into his pocket.

He had never told anyone, but his grandfather, Alfred, that Raven leaving him had royally pissed him off. And even then, he wasn’t mad at her, he was mad with himself. Raven was, hands down, the best damn thing to ever happen to him at the second worst point in his entire life.

The day he was supposed to get married to Donna Troy, his childhood sweetheart, and first love, she runs into the room he was getting ready and demanded to know how he felt about her. Not the best timing, he got it, but him not giving her an immediate answer had her blurting out everything she felt. They’d been together for so long, even when they had both had wild affairs, or been broken up, that they just landed back together because it’s what everyone expected of them. They were expected of everyone, from around the world, and Donna said that she was tired of it. She wanted to know what they wanted, just them and not what the world wanted of them. Jason didn’t have an answer for that, because he had honestly never thought about it.

Donna Troy was his endgame.

Always had been.

When he was a PJ, when he was Bruce Wayne’s billionaire screw up, when he was the punk teenager, he had never thought about it. Donna Troy was just there, and they were the endgame for each other. Or so he had thought.

She had, in her frustrations and fury, blurted out that she’d been having an affair with his best friend; Roy Harper, for years, and that’s when he had started in on her. The only times he had ever dated anyone else or slept with anyone else was when he was certain they were not together. They both lost their tempers, she ran from the church in her wedding gown, with Roy in hand, and the media had exploded with it.

Jason, in his spiteful fury towards his family and fiancée had taken the honeymoon tickets and taken the trip. Two weeks into his running away attempt he had withdrawn a shit ton of cash, ditched his credit cards, and his former cellphone, taken his private passport, and left with nothing but his go-bag from France, and made his way to Australia. Somehow, and he still wasn’t entirely sure about how, he had landed in New Zealand, and the first night there; in some hole in the wall, divvy pub he had met Raven Rachel Roth.

She was in New Zealand, finishing her exchange program, studying to be a Marine Biologist to work with her best friend; Garth Curry; who was studying orca hunting patterns in New Zealand at the time. She loved to read; probably more than he did, which was a true feat in his mind; she adored New York pizza, rooted for the New York Mets, believed in Magic, loved dogs, and animals as a whole, wanted to help people, and was probably a bigger tea lover than Alfred. He thought her to be the most mesmerizing person he had ever met. She was beautiful, quiet, commanding and classy. She was classy as fuck when she was cursing like a sailor after kicking ass; she might be a pacifist, but she knew how to kick ass when the time called for it.

He found her to be the most interesting person he had ever met, though she was eerily quiet and gentle.

He didn’t know what it was about Raven, but they just clicked, it was like he had known her all his life with how they were. Which was the only reason when he had woken up with a naked Raven in his arms, and a marriage certificate he didn’t remember getting, that he didn’t freak out. While she finished her program, he sorted out his shit, picking up an odd job or two repairing boats, cars, and even a few planes. Raven hadn’t let him move in with her, her dorm was occupied by messy roommates, so he had let her live in his hotel room. He had been contemplating getting a flat so they could stay together and sort their shit out.

Though that all changed in the span of a day.

He’d been walking for his hotel when Donna had materialized in front of him. He had been texting Raven about dinner plans, intending to talk to her about their marriage and the next thing they should do. Her program was coming to a close, and he knew she had family stateside. He wanted her to meet his family, and he wondered if she wanted him to meet hers; she had talked animatedly about them, but also vaguely.

Donna was just standing there, dressed in cream, looking like a classic Greek goddess; not a single curl out of place as her dark eyes assessed him carefully for hints. He didn’t know what to think, brushing her off to try to escape, when she had pleaded to talk with him. Apparently, his family was freaking out because no one could find him, and she had hired a PI to track him down. Jason thought they were all being over dramatic, he was royally pissed, and hurt, and had every damn right to feel that way. Also humiliated, greatly humiliated.

But this was Donna and they were Donna and Jason so he couldn’t blow her off like he wanted to do. However, he would do anything to keep the Princess of Greece away from the woman he loved, because he did not need Donna to attack Raven. He knew she’d do it, Donna had done it to all his other exes in the past; Kara, Isabel, Artemis, Violet, so he wanted her as far away from Raven as he could get her. He’d been shocked when Donna had casually pulled him into a kiss; like muscle memory, but he didn’t kiss her back. Instead he had pushed her away and told her very firmly they weren’t do that again; ever, and if she thought differently, he’d happily escort her to the Greek Embassy and walk away. Jason had no problem walking away from her without talking to her, he had zero problems with it.

Instead they had walked, walked to a different, far more upscale hotel where his father was waiting for him with two of his siblings, and Alfred. Jason wanted to be pissed, he did, especially when he saw Roy, but he couldn’t find it in him to be pissed. He had Raven, and that didn’t make the world better, but it made him alright.

It had taken over a day of interrogation before his family was satisfied, he hadn’t been abducted, but they wanted to meet Raven. By the time he had finally gotten them to come around to the idea that he had made a friend who was not in the service with him, or someone they knew, and got them to want to meet her, she was gone. Hotel concierge had told him she had run out of here with her bags in a hurry for the airport, and that she looked panicked.

Jason had rushed up to their room to find nothing but the divorce papers, a note and the gaudy ring he had gotten her when he was drunk.

He had never felt so terrified as then, she was gone. Like she had never been there. All her things were packed and gone, not a stray piece of clothing or even the socks she’d stuff in between the couch cushions, a hoodie of his was also gone, and he didn’t know if she had done that intentionally or not. But whatever had called her off must’ve been important, because she’d have never left her program without reason. All he had was a note, the divorce papers, and that gaudy ring.

She had laughed at the ring, endlessly laughing and wore it on a chain around her neck, not on her finger; it was too big for her slim hands in her mind. Though she wore thousands of slim rings on her fingers, but not that one. That one was always worn around her neck on a chain. He hadn’t signed the divorce papers, he couldn’t, he didn’t know what went wrong with them to make her actually get them. The papers were straightforward, they had shared no assets, or joined households; they had been two independent people bound by a Catholic Captain; Daniel Cassidy, on a ship for whale watching, into the holy sacrament of marriage. Jason’s mom would’ve skinned him alive if she knew he had the divorce papers; as his mom had been Catholic and didn’t believe in divorce. That’s part of how he had become Bruce Wayne’s son actually.

But she was gone.

Her note was simple, straight to the point, and blunt.

Dear Jason,

Something’s come up, I must go, right now. I’m sorry. I don’t know what to do, but I feel this is for the best, it was a delight meeting you and I will always consider you my dearest of friends. But our time has come to an end, and I’m sorry. I wish you all the best. I’ll let you go, so I think it’s best you let me go.

Forever, with Love,

Raven

She had given him every out she thought he would need, but he couldn’t bring himself to sign those papers. Nor could he get rid of the note. He now wore her wedding ring on the chain, under his shirt, he kept her note neatly folded in his wallet, and the divorce papers in a folder in his suitcase; on the off chance they ran into each other and she truly wanted that bloody divorce.

He hadn’t looked for her, though he could easily track Garth down and demand to know where she was. Her line ‘I don’t know what to do’ always struck him as her way of saying she was scared, and she wanted to do this alone, the divorce was so she could do it alone. He wouldn’t file it though, he couldn’t.

With great reluctance he had followed his family back to Gotham. Dick was miffed when Jason bought a Mets mug, though Jason despised the Mets as the eternal rival of the Gotham Knights. Tim thought he was heartbroken over Donna and promptly tried to set him up on several dates with the help of Duke and Stephanie. Cass insisted he was sad and always tried to get him to talk about it. Damian thought he was dramatic and should take Donna back; which had had Jason punching his baby brother in the mouth, because he’d never go back to Donna. Terry, Helena, B Jr., and Tommy mostly thought he had a dark secret and tried to uncover it.

Jason had only told Alfred about Raven, and shown Alfred the photos, the proof that she existed; though she had tried to erase herself from his life pretty damn well. Alfred approved of her, and continuously tried to push him to hunt her down, even after Alfred had read the note. Jason thought Alfred had valid points, but he couldn’t.

Until Australia, he had actively not thought about Raven, until that terrifying call. Much to B’s frustrations, and his family’s fury, he had dropped everything at the drop of a hat and bolted. Alfred and Selina had arranged his flight.

She was gone by the time he got there, nary a trace of her.

It was B’s wife, Selina who had tracked her down and done a casual run in with her to confirm she was alive for him. Selina had run into Raven in Seattle, where she was at the time, dating a man named Garfield Logan, and living with a woman named Rose Wilson. She was alright, and in one piece, Jason had nearly collapsed at the news, but resolved to stay away from her so she could be happy. She was dating someone, she had built another little life for herself, and he wanted her happy.

It was the only time he had considered signing the divorce papers and letting her go fully.

He hadn’t though.

He could never figure out why. He could never get the nerve to call her, to reconnect, nor could he find it in him to sign the bloody divorce papers. He kind of hoped she’d find out and track him down to yell at him, but she hadn’t ever come. Five years and she had never come after him, it unnerved him until tonight.

Setting his drink aside he walked to his bed and sat on it as he thought over Raven and what seeing her had stirred up.

Tomorrow he would talk to her, tomorrow he would tell her they were not divorced and he would beg, on his hands and knees if he had to, beg her for a second chance. He would do whatever she wanted, but he didn’t want to let her go; never again.

Raven cursed God for creating morning, she cursed existence for it, and she cursed her Aunt for calling her about Passover plans, and if she’d make it to Long Island for the celebration with her grandfather and cousins. Raven had barely said sure before hanging up and cursing morning. Coffee was not her normal poison but after last night with Rose, Joe, Kyd, and Slade, she needed it. Glancing at the time she saw that it was almost time for lunch, cursing the existence of family, people, and general morning issues she stumbled into the shower. Once cleaned a bit, she twisted her hair up into a large bun pinned to her head with two heirloom hairpins. Her outfit was her Wright jersey, and jeans before texting her ex-husband she was ready for lunch with him while she sipped her coffee and walked out of LUX. Luci and Maze were not awake yet, so she didn’t have to deal with their interrogation; yet.

Jason texted that he’d be there in fifteen.

She just hummed to herself and sipped her coffee; wishing for the millionth time it was November or October so she could have pumpkin spice flavoring. But alas, it was February and not the time of year for pumpkin flavoring.

Jason pulled up in a black Audi, she got in before he could get the door for her and she sunk into the warm seat. Though she had a leather jacket, and didn’t get cold, she would admit she was exhausted.

“You look like death warmed over,” he remarked which had her glaring at him.

“Do you realize what a pain in the ass, not one, but three bridezillas are!?” she demanded. “I was up until three in the morning just trying to diffuse the flower crisis between Dad, Kyd and Joe! Then Alice calls me at eleven in the morning wanting to know if I’ll be home for Passover.”

“Really?”

“Wherever we’re going better have copious amounts of coffee because after lunch I have to go deal with the tailor.”

“Then I’ll take us someplace else,” he promised. “No Thai.”

“I want this wedding over with!” she whined.

“Could be a shotgun wedding they don’t remember,” he chuckled.

“That’s not going to happen,” she sighed regretfully. She was insanely happy for Joe and Kyd; especially because Joe had been so nervous about coming out as Pansexual, but Slade, Rose, Grant, and her had been prepared to be nothing but supportive; she still had the Pride banners shoved in her closet from the parade she did with Joe and Kyd last year. Though she was miffed at a lesbian trying to get into her pants; that had gotten ugly.

“Well, not everyone can be as fortunate as us,” he teased.

“Everyone else remembers their wedding,” she pointed out. “Also, if my family found out I got married but didn’t have a huge, traditional Jewish wedding, I think they’d perish!”

“You’re Jewish?”

“I love bacon,” she deadpanned.

He laughed. She forgotten how beautiful his laugh was; it wasn’t fair that he got to show up and remind her how beautiful and amazing he was. And it wasn’t fair that she couldn’t have him, Donna Troy was dating him again according to the tabloids; and she hated the Princess for it. But Jason deserved the best, and that was not her.

“Yes, my family is Jewish, my grandfather survived Dachau, his family was set to Auschwitz,” Raven answered.

“Damn, I didn’t know,” he said softly, his hand caught hers and his thumb gently rubbed her knuckles. “My mom was Irish Catholic,” he informed her.

“I bet our wedding would’ve been a riot then,” she decided with a soft laugh.

“Probably,” he chuckled. She withdrew her hand and wrapped it around her warm travel mug. “So the wedding, I didn’t know you had a brother.”

“I have two step brothers, and a step sister,” she answered honestly. “I have an adopted brother, too.”

He nodded as he drove them onto the freeway and started heading north.

“So how’ve you been Jason?”

“Fine, been nonstop work since New Zealand, I’m taking over the West Coast branch, Tim’s taking over the East Coast,” he answered. “I also have some international business I take care of.”

“That’s great.”

“I am just thankful to be moving away from my family finally,” he chuckled.

“You adore them and you know it.”

“That’s not the point, they’re overwhelming, other than Cat and Alfred.”

“Cat and Alfred?”

“Sorry, Selina is B’s second wife, and we call her Cat because she loves cats, and Alfred is kind of our grandfather.”

“Cool.”

“How about you?”

“Well, I move a lot, Garth and I still work together, with my brother Victor,” she answered. “My family gripes a lot that I’m not around enough because we travel all the time, but they get it. They’re supportive, even if that means a lot of Facetime calls.”

“That’s great,” he smiled; she saw it was a genuine smile which had her shyly returning it.

“So what about you? Anyone special?” she asked.

“Special?”

“Dating! I see the tabloids Jay,” she chuckled. “So you and Donna are you rebounding to serious again?” she questioned. She hated asking, mainly cause she still wanted to claw Donna’s eyes out, but the woman was a Princess, she was more than worthy for Jason Todd.

Raven didn’t notice his knuckles whitening on the wheel as they both stared at the road.

“No,” he answered softly. “I will never get serious with Donna again. We’re… we’re just trying to be friends, and it’s not easy,” he admitted.

“Being friends with exes is never easy,” Raven assured him.

“What about you?”

“Me?”

“You know, dating,” he chuckled.

She grimaced remembering her few failed attempts at dating. “No, not really. The last guy I dated had asked me out to make my sister jealous; it worked, they’ve been together for two years. And there’ve been a few dates, here and there, but no sparks or attraction,” she shrugged.

She didn’t notice him relax a little.

“Shame,” he decided neutrally.

“You know what I miss, and I blame you entirely for it,” she asked.

“What?”

“Sex,” she blurted out. He roared with laughter as they sped down the freeway.

“Really!?”

“Before you I had never had sex, because of you I have impossibly high standards for sex that no one will ever be able to meet!” she whined.

“I can solve that,” he offered.

“Maybe,” she shrugged dismissively; it’d never happen. Not with him. He was a galaxy away from her league.

“I missed you Rae,” he chuckled.

“Same,” she admitted with a smile. “So where are we going?”

“A place with sandwiches and coffee,” he promised.

“Oh Thank God,” she moaned. “Sorry, I haven’t eaten since yesterday afternoon, and I didn’t get a great nights sleep.”

“No need to explain Rae,” he promised.

“Well, it’s just…” she sighed as she rubbed her brow. This wasn’t about coffee and sandwiches with her ex-husband. “This isn’t just about having lunch with you Jason.”

“I kind of figured.”

“You did?” her head snapped over to study his relaxed profile.

“It’s not just lunch for me either Rae,” he said and looked over at her with a serious, guarded expression.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured. “For… for everything,” she sighed.

“No,” he said so harshly and firmly she just stared dumbly at him.

“What?”

“You have no reason to be sorry, for any of this,” he said. “You tried to do the right thing, I’m sorry I didn’t come after you five years ago so we could talk, a real talk, about this.”

“I…”

“No, let me say this because you talked last night and I need to say this.”

“Okay.”

“You met me after Donna had left me at the altar and ran off with my best friend, and brother in arms. And you helped me through a truly terrible, humiliating point in my life, and I never thanked you for that. You didn’t push or pry or try to make me feel things I didn’t, or were expect to. You were there, you were my friend, my wife, and I’m sorry I didn’t make you feel valued enough or safe enough to come to me for help when you needed it. I’m sorry you felt the need to run off on your own rather than come to me. And I’m sorry you saw Donna kiss me, and I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, Jason, it was a vacation mistake,” she shrugged.

“No, it’s not alright, Raven,” he said it firmly. “Donna was the mistake. You were not.”

“She’s the Princess of Greece, Jason, I’m… me, I’m the mistake,” she said confidently. She knew she was the mistake here, no way in a million years he’d have even stuck with her once they got back to reality, and she went trapezing off with Garth and Vic to study the ocean he’d realize what a terrible mistake they were.

“Rae,” he spoke softly and she glanced back at him. “You are the best damn thing that has ever happened to me. And we’re here.”

“I dibs the tuna sandwich,” she warned him as they got out of the car. He got the door for her, she nodded as she passed. He got them a table, it was only after the starstruck waitress left that he turned his attention back on her.

“Tuna is all mine,” he decided.

“That’s declaring war,” she warned.

“Perhaps,” he shrugged.

“How about we split two sandwiches, I’ll give you half my tuna for the crabcake!”

“Deal!”

“Excellent,” she chuckled. “And Jason, just so you know, you don’t have to lie to make me feel better about us.”

“I’m not lying,” he said.

“Sure you’re not.” She snorted and smiled as she put the menu aside and sipped her coffee. She still wanted pumpkin spice, she cursed autumn for being so far away.

“Rae, you and I, it was the best damn thing to happen to me,” he stated it firmly.

“You are surprisingly happy about us for an ex-husband, are you all this way or just you exclusively?”

“Well, it’s not an ex-husband thing, because that’s kind of what we’re here to talk about,” he said.

“How is it not an ex-husband thing?”

“Kind of like how this isn’t an ex-wife meeting,” he answered. “I never signed the papers Raven.”

She felt all the blood drain from her face as the waitress came over to take their order. He placed the order and waited for her to respond.

“You… you what!?” she sputtered dumbly.

“Never signed them, Rae,” he answered. “So technically, we’re husband and wife.”

“But… but…” she stammered dumbly not knowing what to say to that. “I… WHY!?” she hissed.

“Because,” he answered.

“That’s not a reason to stay married to a person Jason! Especially when I’ve tried dating other people!” she hissed. She was so going to Hell for adultery now.

“No, you didn’t know,” he answered. “But I couldn’t sign them or file them.”

“You should! You should right now!” she insisted.

“No,” he repeated calmly.

“Jason!” she hissed.

“Raven.”

“This is SERIOUS! If you don’t sign those papers, and people find out that… and… we’ll, the media will crucify you! And your family will join them!” she hissed.

“Let them,” he shrugged. “I was serious Rae.”

“I don’t even remember us getting married!”

“Neither do I, but nonetheless, we are,” he said levelly.

She groaned as she hid her face in her hands and wanted to tear her hair out of her head in frustration now.

“Rae, love, look at me,” he pleaded. She glared at him through the fringes of hair now cascading around her face. Oh she was pissed, the hardest thing she had ever had to do, even harder than saying goodbye to her mother or watching her family fall apart because of her biological father, was saying goodbye to the man she had married. And worse, she had known it was the right thing to do. Drunken mistakes should not be consequences for life, and she had been able to fix theirs with a simple divorce!

“I’m… I fixed our mistake! I did everything to fix it!” she snapped.

“I couldn’t sign the papers because I never could view it as a mistake,” he answered levelly. “And if you’re willing, I would like to try again.”

“Oh no,” she gasped. She could feel her chest tightening in panic, as her heart slammed in her ribs. “No. I… No, I can’t do this, no.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m a mistake Jason!” she snapped. “I’m a mistake and this marriage between us, only happened because we were drunk off our asses and, on a boat, somehow; and I still don’t know how we got on the boat because the last thing I remember is the pub! Also, you’re… you were, are, engaged to a Princess, how the hell can I compete with that! You’re American Royalty, Jason! Your Dad is the richest man in the world, and I… I’m me!” she sputtered.

“You loved me when you thought I was just Jason Todd, mechanic,” he pointed out.

“This isn’t about the money Jason,” she sighed.

“Then what’s it about?”

“You deserve better than me,” she stated.

“I think it’s the other way around love,” he said softly. “The day you left, the day Donna came to take me home, I was coming home to you, to talk to you about us getting a flat, and seeing where you wanted to go from New Zealand. If Donna hadn’t intercepted me, I’d have come back with you, immediately, no questions asked, no expectations. You’re my wife Raven.”

“Doesn’t mean we should be together!” she snapped.

“I think you and I got married for a reason, drunk or not, and I think we should give this a real shot,” he said firmly.

“Jason…”

“I would have called you five years ago if I wasn’t so damn scared, or hurt, and I would’ve come for you immediately, always regretted that I didn’t. So please, please, I’ll do anything for a second shot with you,” he said softly.

“Jason, sign the papers,” she pleaded. “You’ll… you deserve to be happy; I don’t make people happy.”

“How about, we date, try dating, and if it doesn’t work out, I’ll sign the papers,” he bartered.

Raven stared at him; she didn’t know what to make of that.

“A date?”

“Can’t a man ask his wife on a date?”

“I…”

“We didn’t do the whole dating thing the first time around, and I would like to remedee that this time,” he said levelly.

“We skipped straight to the marriage, and wild sex,” she muttered as they were served. They both waited for the waitress to leaven before she automatically swiped half his sandwich and he took half of hers.

“I missed the sex too,” he chuckled. “You broke my standards, no one else compares.”

“Oh Thank God That’s Ruined For You Too,” she laughed as she took a bite of her tuna sandwich.

“You ruined many things Rae, like tea, I still can’t figure out how you made that one tea to make me sleep, but I can’t remake it for the life of me. I’ve almost cried craving it,” he chuckled.

“You ruined waffles for me,” she warned. “I mean no one can make them right, I cried on my kitchen floor one morning I wanted them so badly. The chocolate chip ones with strawberries,” she moaned at the mere memory.

“Good book conversations,” he stated. “I joined a book club I was so desperate to talk books, intelligently, turns out that was mostly a gossip group; all four of the ones I joined.”

“Ha!” she stuck her tongue out at him for that, he had told them to join a book club when they had first married and enjoyed talking books. “I told you they weren’t what you thought!”

“Some of them must be actual book clubs but I haven’t found one.”

“Could be because you’re Jason Todd.”

“Very possible.”

“But we don’t have to be married to do things like that, I can give you the tea recipe and we can be friends who talk books,” she offered.

“Rae, it’s not just about that,” he chuckled.

“Sure it is, I’ll be your friend, but I don’t think I should be your wife,” she said firmly.

“Little bird, I’m not divorcing you, besides you need to keep the insurance,” he said firmly.

“About that, I should pay you back.”

“Don’t you dare,” he warned lowly. She stared at his fierce, guarded expression. “And don’t even think about changing me from your emergency contact!”

~~~*~*~*~~~

He didn’t want her to pay him back for taking care of her, she would never understand how much she had taken care of him. And when she brought it up it reminded him how neatly she had erased herself from his life, how she had promised to remove him as her emergency contact. That had actually been a fight between them when they were barely friends. A bar fight landed him in the hospital, and he had to call someone, apparently, they were going to call his grandfather when he convinced them to call the girl he had hooked up with the night before, Raven. Raven had been shocked but had come to help him get discharged, and the ensuing arguments had led to them agreeing to be each other’s emergency contact while they were in New Zealand. The wedding had happened after that by about a week.

“I…”

“You terrified me, Rae,” he stated. “I came back to the hotel room and everything of you was gone, including our photos. You just… you erased yourself from my life, and I swear I couldn’t take it if you removed me as your emergency contact. I’m your husband, I deserve to know if you’re in trouble.”

“Ex-husband.”

“I haven’t signed the papers, and they’re safely hidden away so you can’t make me,” he pointed out. He felt a bit smug about that statement as she glared at him.

“I signed them!”

“I know, and it still terrifies me that you could do it so easily,” he stated. He saw her flinch, and he knew. Just one look at her and he knew, that it hadn’t been easy for her. None of this was easy, but he got the sense that this was also his fault for waiting five years. He hadn’t lost her yet, but he got a feeling that he was precariously close to if he wasn’t careful. There was very little about her, what made her make her decisions, that he actually knew and if he wasn’t careful he knew he could lose her. She already seemed to hold a low opinion of her value, and she seemed skittish about having someone in her life who wasn’t family. Though the skittish aspect of her was always there, if he moved to quickly, or raised his voice a certain amount she’d jump, she’d flinch, and he remembered her nightmares, though very few, were very intense. Something had happened to her, before he had met her, something that made her skittish; made her this way, and he should’ve chased her five years ago to not let it manifest further, but he hadn’t. Things to add to his list of regrets.

“I did what I thought was best, for us, as people in a situation we didn’t sign up for.”

“I have a marriage certificate that says we did sign up for this.”

“Jason, I… I’m not the best person for someone like you,” she started.

“I think you’re the best person I’ve ever met, Raven.”

“Jason…” she sighed as she dragged her hand through her hair.

“Can you please just consider giving us a shot, a real shot?” he asked.

“I…”

“I would like to take you, not my guilt stricken wife, out,” he reiterated it. “I would like to take you out.”

“Like a hit or a date?”

“I’ll leave that to be a surprise.”

“I don’t like surprises,” she muttered.

“Well, then we’re a hell of a surprise,” he mused. “Please Rae. I would like to take my beautiful, estranged wife out on a date, have fun, and no expectations.”

“I gave you the divorce papers so we wouldn’t have expectations.”

“You gave us an out, and I’m not out yet,” he said levelly.

“Fine,” she threw up her hands in defeat. “I’ll go on a date with my idiotic ex-husband.”

He smiled in triumph and stole one of her fries.

“HEY! Hands off!” she snapped as she snatched her fry basket up.

“We’re married, we’re supposed to share.”

“Only until you sign those damn papers!”

“Never,” he chuckled. “So when are you free from family and wedding obligations?”

“You are not going to my brother’s wedding, just so we’re clear about this. You are not going,” she stated that firmly. There was a bit of hurt in his heart that she wasn’t even going to offer it as an option, but he was sure that in time he’d win her over. Doing so at her brother’s wedding was likely too much pressure, and would require them explaining that they were married; which he didn’t know if her family would take that well. Going off Lucifer’s reaction he would bet they didn’t even know.

“That’s fine,” he nodded.

“I’m free after the wedding. The wedding is February fourteenth,” she sighed.

“So can I take you for dinner on February fifteenth?” he asked levelly.

“Fine,” she nodded. “But I’m leaving with Garth and Dolphin on the twentieth, we’re meeting up with Vic on a job.”

“Where’s the job?”

“We’re going back to Hawaii to research reefs. Garth’s family is there and they want to be close to his family,” she shrugged.

“I thought he studied whales.”

“Well, he’s a marine biologist, there’s a solid job for him in Hawaii, same for me, and Vic’s already there, so we’re going there. Dolphin also…” she clamped her mouth shut then.

“Also what?”

“She’s pregnant, she wants to be close to his family, but I’m not supposed to tell anyone that!” she muttered.

“Congratulations to Dolphin and Garth.”

“They’re excited, I’m telling my family I’m leaving after the wedding,” she said.

He nodded, he was already trying to calculate if he could afford to head of to Hawaii for a bit to continue wooing his reluctant wife.

“I’m still going to call and text you,” he informed her.

“You don’t have to.”

“We’re friends, it’s about time we act it. And we’re husband and wife.”

“Fine.” She rolled her eyes, and he smiled; this was going to take a lot of work. That was fine by him though.

[sinceileftyoublog]

Top 50 Albums of 2019

The end of a year, the end of a decade. Lists are dumb fun, yes, but here at SILY, over the past five years, with our year-end lists, we have hoped to expose you to artists you may have passed over at any point in time, even if you do live under a rock and have never heard of Ariana Grande.

With contributions as usual from Lauren Lederman and Daniel Palella, here are 50 records from last year that we loved.

50. Greet Death - New Hell (Deathwish)

When I recommend Greet Death’s New Hell to people, it’s hard to convince them that what they’re about to listen to is actually something closer to shoegaze and, well, not the aggressive rock you might expect. But New Hell is intense in its guitar-driven sound and its lyrics. It’s an album of loneliness and wrestling with doubt, one that blatantly asks, “What do I do if I don’t feel like getting well again?” on album standout “Do You Feel Nothing?” Also impressive is the way Logan Gaval’s and Sam Boyhtari’s voices both duel with and complement each other as their longer songs build and build, enveloping you until you’re left with gentle guitar; take the anxiety and calm woven together in "You’re Gonna Hate What You’ve Done" as a perfect example. - Lauren Lederman

49. 100 gecs - 1000 gecs (Dog Show)

There is simply nothing that sounds like 1000 gecs, and this is no detriment to its frenzied brilliance. With a wide array of already existing of music that experiments with a sort of post-pop, post-internet mentality (PC Music, Vaporwave, etc.), and with the ease of access to digital production tools, it is truly remarkable to stumble into something that one can describe as unique. 100 gecs have the same maximal sensibilities of their PC Music colleagues/collaborators (label-head AG Cook recently put out a brilliant remix of single “money machine,” and they are close friends with umru), but their mission never seems to explore any kind of irony, nor parody of any of its numerous influences (which ranges from just about every MySpace-era niche genre). Rather, 100 gecs create a sort of fever dream that staggers wildly through all of the sounds they’ve come to love through the years. And while it seems their most common critique is that their sort of unabashed love for these cloying sounds of our teen years betrays a sense of actual earnestness, you will find through interviews, performances, and the overall image of 100 gecs that the work here is of pure bliss and joy. Dylan Brady and Laura Les make what they view as simple pop songs, and the flourishes, which veer into jarring and absurd, are just them smirking behind the scenes, like two savants on a sugar-high. 1000 gecs is a record I didn’t know how to process at first glance, but when I looked back on its prevalence in my listening habits (it was my #1 most listened album of the year across all platforms, with “money machine” being my most listened song), its infectiousness cannot be overstated. - Daniel Palella

48. Tony Molina - Songs From San Mateo County (Smoking Room)

For his longest album yet (of 14 minutes and 56 seconds), singer-songwriter Tony Molina scraped total gems from unreleased and unfinished material spanning from 2009 to 2015, demos and riffs that occupy the garage and jangle rock side of his output more than pop sheen. What stands out, as usual, is the way in which not only he packs a ton into minute-long ditties (the longest song, the 2-minute “I’m Not Down”, manages to squeeze in a bridge to a guitar solo) but uses the same simple elements to make totally different songs. Take the one-two punch of “Fallin’” and “Been Here Before”. The former sees a creeping guitar line segue into an explosion of power pop, whereas the latter starts where the former leaves off and tails at the end. Or maybe “Not The Way To Be” leading into “Can’t Find My Way” and then “Don’t See The Point”, fuzzy rockers that nonetheless occupy contrasting emotional territory. The songs on Songs From San Mateo County are introspective or bummed-out, and while a less-skilled artist would be unable to musically differentiate between the two moods, Molina can do so with a few riffs or words.

Read the rest of our review here.

47. Full of Hell - Weeping Choir (Relapse)

To think of the new album from Maryland/central PA grindcore band Full of Hell, Weeping Choir, as a companion album to their previous one, Trumpeting Ecstasy, is a bit misleading. While lead singer and songwriter Dylan Walker told me that he “was in the same headspace” when writing both albums, none of the band members, Walker included, wanted Choir to seem like a part two. In fact, it’s the band’s best record yet because it seems definitive and stands alone, showing the different ways the Maryland band can envelop you with brutal intensity.

Read our interview with Full of Hell’s Dylan Walker here.

46. dumb - Club Nites (Mint)

Given the aesthetic image put forward by dumb, from the minimal presentation of their record cover to the chiming jangle of their guitars, it is easy to lump them in with post-punk, a label that is trending more and more popular with the success of groups like Omni and Uranium Club. But there is a unique rambunctiousness that really shines through in dumb’s music—seeing them perform earlier this year, when the label of “post-punk” was brought up in conversation, one member noted that they thought of them more as just a rock band. The raw energy and hook-ready quality of their music backs this up—there is no navel-gazing or self-seriousness with this band. “Beef Hits,” from its first moments, rides on such an infectiously catchy hook and doubles down with sarcastic, snarling vocals, ending on a saxophone solo that somehow perfectly and cathartically captures the energy built through the song. Arbitrary as it may be, dumb simply seem to have too much carefree fun to care about their genre image. -DP

45. Joan Shelley - Like The River Loves The Sea (No Quarter)

The truth is often somewhere in the middle. On her fifth solo album Like The River Loves The Sea, Kentucky folk singer-songwriter Joan Shelley fades back and forth between sweet devotion and ultimately independent realism, whether looking at the seasons of a relationship or the changing earth that’s a muse for so many of her songs. Inspired by her home of Kentucky, recorded in Iceland, sounding like Laurel Canyon–Shelley has never been more attuned as she is here to the topography of place and how it affects how we live our lives.

Read our review of Joan Shelley’s recent Chicago show here.

44. Nilüfer Yanya - Miss Universe (ATO)

When I first saw the credits for Miss Universe, the long-awaited debut album from British singer-songwriter, guitarist, and composer Nilüfer Yanya, I thought it would be a case of too many cooks: There are nine different producers on the record (though no more than two on each song). Fortunately, the vision is singularly Yanya’s. Her malleable sense of composition and performance allows her to take even songs she wrote when she was 14 or 15 and make them totally new.

Read our preview of Nilufer Yanya’s Sleeping Village show last year here.

43. Shura - forevher (Secretly Canadian)

Though Forevher, the second album from English singer-songwriter Shura, is inspired by her long-distance relationship and life as a queer, non-religious person in today’s world, she wants people to recognize themselves in her music and stories. The album’s artwork, based on Auguste Rodin’s sculpture The Kiss, sets the context for a universal record, accessible by those of different backgrounds, interests, types of knowledge, and even levels of prudishness. Yes, Shura herself said that on standout “the stage”, when she sings, “we don’t wanna dance / we just wanna” and then doesn’t complete the sentence, that she wanted her parents to be able to listen to the album without blushing. This isn’t self-censorship or pandering; instead, Shura finds empowerment the more people listen. “d’ya hate me?” she asks homophobes on “flyin’”, winking, while borrowing keyboard lines from Elton John, one of the most mainstream-accepted LGBTQ+ people in the world, daring them to say “yes” with an army of supporters behind her.

Read our preview of Shura’s Empty Bottle show last year here.

42. Patty Griffin - Patty Griffin (PGM Recordings/Thirty Tigers)

If you read reviews of Patty Griffin’s albums or analyses of her songs, you’ll see writers make glaringly different assumptions about the perspective from which she’s singing or even what the song’s about. To me, that’s not so much obtuseness as it is Griffin’s strength at a songwriter. Her latest, self-titled album embodies this complexity perhaps more than any of her career so far. Co-produced with Craig Ross and laden with Spanish and Celtic instrumental influences on top of the usual blues and folk, it’s also her most instrumentally varied. Written during and after her successful battle with breast cancer, Patty Griffin is a statement of feminism and ultimately melancholy humanism, universal, global, and determined.

Read our preview of Patty Griffin’s show at the Vic Theatre last year here.

41. Hand Habits - placeholder (Saddle Creek)

Like many, I first became aware of Meg Duffy when I saw them steal the show with their shredding and guitar tones while playing as part of Kevin Morby’s band. Upon further research, I came to see their name pop up in the credits for some of my favorite guitar-oriented music of the decade, mostly unaware of their solo project Hand Habits. Well, with their second solo LP placeholder (and first recorded in a studio and with a band), Duffy has not only blasted beyond the label of “secret weapon”–they’ve established themselves as one of today’s finest songwriters. At once more concise and more widespread than its predecessor Wildly Idle (Humble Before The Void), placeholder puts on display Duffy’s wise observations on internal strife and relationships, at once personal and universal.

Read our preview of Hand Habits’ show at the Hideout last year here.

40. Ariana Grande - thank u, next (Republic)

With finger-snapping beats, skronking bass, and remarkably buoyant vocal performances, Ariana Grande’s topped herself mere months later. If Sweetener was Grande’s tour de force of empathy, thank u, next is everything at once: Over a year removed from the Manchester arena bombing that shook her, Grande looks back on simultaneous trauma, relationships started and failed because of it, and her quest for self-love, all in seeming real time.

Read our preview of Ariana Grande’s United Center show last year here.

39. Shannon Lay - August (Sub Pop)

August exemplifies so much that Lay does well. The surprisingly linear spontaneity of opener “Death Up Close”–which starts with a misstep and eventually features a Mikal Cronin saxophone solo–is contrasted by the flaneur of “Nowhere”, an ode to enjoying the circular journey without an end, where her voice travels in the opposite direction of the song’s lilting melody. “Will I ever see through?” Lay asks, but not too bothered, layered over drums and hand claps. She sees the humor and delight in the smallest moments: Gorgeous and simple standout “Shuffling Stoned” is a scene in a record store in New York City, a customer buying weed from his dealer as small spider crawls on his stack of records. Many people would want the spider killed, but Lay sees it as no less a sign of life than anybody else. Most remarkable is “November”, dedicated to the woman left behind, Molly Drake, the mother of the late Nick. “Molly did you feel the sting / Of November songs gone quiet,” she asks, again not expecting an answer but knowing that asking the question, embodying another’s state of mind, is what’s important.

Read our profile of Shannon Lay here.

38. Carly Rae Jepsen - Dedicated (School Boy/Interscope)

On Dedicated, Carly Rae Jepsen goes disco and sounds as risqué in her lyrics as ever, veering off the 80′s-inspired pop music of EMOTION in favor of something slinky and sleek. While love in all its excess and sincerity is still her driving force, it’s not necessarily as straightforward as her past hits “Run Away With Me” or “Call Me Maybe”. It’s celebrated in “Too Much”, and its inviting question, “Are you down?” It’s now an altered state on “No Drug Like Me”. It’s the self-love of “Party for One”, the desperate jealousy of “I’ll Be Your Girl”. Love is everything, and Jepsen’s pop music consistently captures that, whether dressed up in neon rose glasses or swaying under a sparkling disco ball. - LL

37. joni void - Mise En Abyme (Constellation)

Mise en abyme refers to putting a copy of an image within itself, but for the Joni Void album of the same name, it’s more like a story within a story. So it normally goes for Montreal-based producer Jean Cousin. Like his debut under the Joni Void moniker (he previously went by johnny_ripper), 2017′s Selfless, Mise En Abyme includes vocal samples of Cousin’s various friends and collaborators in music, though their output is wordless, their voices chopped and screwed and pitch-shifted out of recognition.

Read our interview with joni void here.

36. Mavis Staples - We Get By (ANTI-)

If you had told me that a singer’s new album contained the line, “All that we are is the living ghost of our youth,” Mavis Staples would have been my last guess as to who that singer was. Then again, the reflective, often somber nature of her latest great album We Get By makes sense: her sister Yvonne passed away last year, and she’s only six years removed from the death of her other sister, Cleotha. As such, she’s mourning again the absence of both of those women and her father, Pops. Combine that with the current political climate, one that Staples has spent her entire life fighting, and you start to become surprised that the album’s not straight-up dour. But Staples doesn’t do depressing: She finds beauty in the darkest moments, using them to raise up both herself and others.

Read our review of Mavis Staples’ Pitchfork Music Festival 2019 set here.

35. Better Oblivion Community Center - Better Oblivion Community Center (Dead Oceans)

The idea of a supergroup is a familiar one in the rock world, but often, there’s a feeling of it being a sort of manufactured corniness when you shove rock stars together on one album. But what about two songwriters with dedicated fans, one at the start of her career and the other more established? Better Oblivion feels like true collaboration between artists with deep respect for the other. Phoebe Bridgers and Conor Oberst may be kindred spirits. They excel in storytelling, placing you in the vividly formed world of their songs. Combined, this shines throughout their self-titled debut, a lovely collection of folk songs. The cool ease of Bridgers’ voice and familiar warmth of Oberst’s seems like a natural fit. Supergroups often come around for one album; here’s hoping that this project sees more than just this one. - LL

34. Orville Peck - Pony (Sub Pop)

From the opening, lone guitar of “Dead of Night”, there’s a sense of traditional country western that permeates through Orville Peck’s debut. Peck is playful in the way he contorts words (see “Spend a Johnny’s cash” on the first track) and iconic imagery from the genre, all with a voice straight out of some other decade, one that’d be at home over the crackly AM waves of radio or in the dark corner of a bar.

There’s plenty of the familiar throughout the album: banjo, lap steel guitar, the gallop of “Buffalo Pace”. But Peck’s a master at playing with the machismo and “traditional” masculinity we so often ascribe to rugged cowboys with no home and no name. There are horses and dusty roads. It’s tough and tender. And sure, technically anyone can ride off into the sunset, heading westward and feeling rebellious. But how many can reclaim that free spirit as a masked queer cowboy with a secret identity? - LL

33. Charli XCX - Charli (Atlantic)

If you follow Charli XCX on any form of social media, you know she’s not afraid to tell you how iconic she is with every release, whether an album, a mixtape, or a music video. Naturally, she opens her first official studio release since 2014 with a song called “Next Level Charli” and declares, “I got hard, I go fast, and I never look back.” And that’s Charli, always looking to level up. Her collaborations in particular are where she shines, equally carrying the spotlight she so effortlessly commands while elevating her partners, whether its Christine and the Queens on the near perfect “Gone”, Sky Ferreira, Yaeji, or the Haim sisters.

Sure, she veers into the more expected sounds of mainstream pop, taking the stunning “Track 10” from Pop 2 and morphing it into radio-friendly fare featuring everyone’s favorite, Lizzo. But that’s the beauty of Charli: She can make a mainstream hit from one of her most ambitious tracks, or she can make a song like “2099”, closing out her album with a sound that feels like it’s straight out of the future. - LL

32. Andy Stott - It Should Be Us (Modern Love)

The moods and worlds created through the records of Andy Stott reflect the grey scale that has become a signature for his album covers. This is not to say that they are one-dimensionally mechanical or bleak. Rather, Stott’s emotive power reveals itself in how he uses the cold sounds of dub and techno to reach into the ethereal and personal. Whereas previous records have dabbled with a sort of neo-futurism—Too Many Voices, for example, explores a sort of 80′s pastiche—It Should Be Us more readily embraces a sort of cracked techno veneer, focusing in on the broken quality he is known for injecting into his sounds. Synths and drums clip, distort, wail, and stutter—not as moments of transition, but as the central pieces of his songs. And while it does not have the apparent warmth or beauty of records like Luxury Problems, It Should Be Us is remarkably effective in creating an atmosphere that extends beyond dullness or despair. -DP

31. The Highwomen - The Highwomen (Low Country Sound/Elektra)

There’s a real thrill in the twelve tracks that make up The Highwomen’s debut album. Four stunning voices from country--a few Grammy winners, an Americana violinist who’s not afraid to get weird, a country songwriter with a stellar reputation--create a beautiful, heartfelt, and even funny collection of songs that explore what it means to be a woman in the past, present, and future. While “Redesigning Women” is a sweet first single, it only scratches the surface of the scope of these songs. “My Name Can’t Be Mama” is genuinely funny, and “If She Ever Leaves Me” is a stunning love song that belongs in the country pantheon. But the true thesis of the album is the title track, telling the stories of women from different eras, encompassing different struggles, and featuring Yola’s powerful voice.  

Their voices harmonize to round out the song, declaring “And we’ll come back again, and again.” It’s a powerful call to generations of women, and you can’t help but hope the Highwomen will return, too. - LL

30. Great Grandpa - Four of Arrows (Double Double Whammy)

You might not recognize Great Grandpa if you were only familiar with Plastic Cough. While that album’s catchy slacker-grunge tunes could inspire spirited, sweaty singalongs, it’s incredible to see what’s evolved since then into their latest release. It seems to make sense that the album opens with almost twenty seconds of silence before the band comes in, voices in harmony, a sweet sound to usher you in to this new, lush world they’ve created together. There’s the hopefulness of “Bloom”, the rippling calm of “Mono no Aware”, or the ache of “Split Up the Kids”. You can feel it in the stunning waver of vocalist Alex Menne’s voice in “Digger”. It’s an album full of reflection and self-evaluation, a band finding a new confidence in evolution. - LL

29. Julia Kent - Temporal (The Leaf Label)

Originally written for dance/theater, Temporal, the latest great piece of music from NYC cellist and composer Julia Kent, is one of the rare albums described as “haunting” that actually fits the bill. Consisting of just cello and synthesizer, the record sees Kent exploring textures and timbres you may associate with either her acoustic instrument of choice or the modes in which she processes them, but never in such a concretely spacial way.

Read the rest of our review here.

28. Drugdealer - Raw Honey (Mexican Summer)

Los Angeles collective Drugdealer’s second album of pop is another massive step forward for Michael Collins and company. Bookended by two gorgeous instrumentals, Raw Honey is as its title suggests: sweet without being forced. Whether Collins or one of many guest vocalists, the timbres of the vocals blend in with instrumentation that’s wonderfully melancholic and lyrics unafraid to be positive. “Nobody wants to feel they’ve got to hide themselves,” they sing on bouncy ear worm “Lost In My Dream”. In an era of musical scenes and constant debates on authenticity, Drugdealer successfully capture the essence of something they’re not, that you think on a surface level they’re simply trying to emulate, all through sheer musicianship and songwriting smarts.

Read our preview of Drugdealer’s Sleeping Village show last year here.

27. Julia Jacklin - Crushing (Polyvinyl)

But what’s powerful about Crushing isn’t Jacklin’s admittance of her emotions and thoughts but how she reclaims them. Ownership over one’s body–and one’s self–is a running theme throughout the record, starting immediately with opening track “Body”, a true story about her boyfriend getting the two of them kicked off a plane because he smoked in the bathroom. “I’m not a good woman when you’re around,” Jacklin realizes, planning action, “heading to the city to get my body back.” Slowly building around the simple statement, “It’s just my life / It’s just my body,” the song refuses to downplay the importance of Jacklin’s increasing sense of security. On “Head Alone”, she’s a step further: “I don’t want to be touched all the time / I raised by body up to be mine,” she sings confidently, pausing, and letting out a smirking, “hah,” fully knowing how ridiculous it is that she still has to say this in 2019. By this time on the record, she’s already spitting out mantras with ease: “Yeah, I’ll say it ‘til he understands / You can love somebody without using your hands.”

Read our preview of Julia Jacklin’s Schuba’s show last year here.

26. Art Ensemble of Chicago - We Are On The Edge: A 50th Anniversary Celebration (Erased Tapes/Pi Recordings)

“We are on the edge of existing,” proclaims Moor Mother (Camae Ayewa) on the title track of We Are On The Edge: A 50th Anniversary Celebration, the new album from The Art Ensemble of Chicago. It’s a statement that could not exemplify the collective any more aptly. Over the past five decades, the band and its various incarnations (the only founding members still active are Roscoe Mitchell and drummer Famodou Don Moye) have dominated the underground and the worlds of jazz to occasionally surface on the mainstream. But from the perspective of black humanism, it’s even more powerful. Earlier in the song, Ayewa declares, “We are on the edge of victory…After all that dope and dancing and drunkenness, we are on the edge.” She shares a litany of black oppression, turning “We are on the edge of existing” into a statement of disappearance rather than emergence. In the context of today’s America, it makes the journey to keep on existing and thriving even more radical, the context that makes We Are On The Edge an absolutely essential listen. Consisting of one disc of re-recorded and never-recorded works and new compositions, and another of a live set recorded at Ann Arbor’s Edgefest, it shows Mitchell’s composition chops and the band’s instrumental dynamism as results of black excellence.

Read our preview of the Art Ensemble of Chicago’s Jay Pritzker Pavilion show last year here.

25. Laura Stevenson - The Big Freeze (Don Giovanni)

The Big Freeze, the new album from singer-songwriter Laura Stevenson, combines the size, emotions, and power of her more rambunctious releases like Wheel and Cocksure with a newfound sense of sparseness, directness, and intimacy. She weaves personal experiences–of self-doubt, depression, and dermatillomania–with universal internal struggles, like the yearning for simplicity in an increasingly complex world. Recorded in her childhood home in Long Island during winter, with bits of strings and bass added later, The Big Freeze isn’t just the first Stevenson album to not feature her backing band The Cans, but the first album that feels like a solo statement.

Read our interview with Laura Stevenson here.

24. Sunn O))) - Life Metal (Southern Lord)

Their first of two albums last year, Life Metal was written with frequent collaborator Tos Nieuwenhuizen on Moog and eventually recorded with none other than Steve Albini at Electrical Audio here in Chicago. It was also the first Sunn O))) album recorded entirely to tape; the extra bit of hiss on the guitar tones adds a greater aspect of the physical realm than ever before. The warm hues of Samantha Keely Smith’s paintings that grace the cover art are akin to the timbre of the music. Slabs of synthesizer light rise to the surface between drone metal power chords on opener “Between Sleipnir’s Breaths”, as recordings of whinnying horses and layered vocals from Hildur Guðnadóttir provide a soft antidote to her ruminations on the impermanence of life. On “Troubled Air”, Anthony Pateras arranged and recorded pipe organ that provides a flat levity to contrast the pointed high tones of the guitars and childlike wonder of the triangle percussion. “Aurora” segues from the dark tones of “Troubled Air” but juxtaposes with it high-pitched, heavenly sounds reminiscent of the human voice, ultimately challenging you to find hope even in the squeakiest of guitar feedback squalls; like the live set, it eventually gives way to silence.

Read our review of Sunn O)))’s Rockefeller Memorial Chapel set last year here.

23. Joshua Abrams & Natural Information Society - Mandatory Reality (eremite records)

Even more so than Simultonality, Mandatory Reality, the latest record from guimbri maestro Joshua Abrams and his band Natural Information Society, doesn’t so much demand your attention as it naturally captures it. Recorded live to tape, it’s an exquisite piece of music that achieves canonical status through its references, yes, but more importantly, warmth through its depth. The track lengths–23, 39, 12, and even 6 minutes–allow the songs to journey, to build up and decompose, to establish and break a vernacular.

Read our review of Joshua Abrams & Natural Information Society’s Constellation show last year here.

22. Rhiannon Giddens & Francesco Turrisi - there is no Other (Nonesuch)

With Italian, Dublin-based multi-instrumentalist Francesco Turrisi, it appears that Rhiannon Giddens has met her match. The two are not only incredible arrangers, writers, and players in their own right, but their approach to music is nobly investigative.

Read our review of Rhiannon Giddens & Francesco Turrisi’s City Winery show last year here.

21. Big Thief - U.F.O.F. (4AD)

People, animals, bugs, hospitals, tenderness, intimacy–they’re all going to show up in a Big Thief album, and U.F.O.F. is no exception. At the same time, Adrianne Lenker and company are still redefining what “Big Thief album” means, and on their third (and 4AD debut), they up the expanse. If Capacity relied totally on Lenker’s world weary voice and nurturing-despite-desolate imagery, U.F.O.F. introduces into the studio fold that which makes Big Thief so arresting as a live band, namely the depth and versatility of Lenker’s voice and the band’s raw, yet celestial instrumentation. Only a singer like Lenker–and maybe Emmylou Harris–could be so affecting staying at basically one note for minutes, as she does on “Cattails”, and on the flip side, adopt an effective lower register on “Betsy”.

Read the rest of our review here.

20. JPEGMAFIA - All My Heroes Are Cornballs (EQT)

Barrington DeVaughn Hendricks is still getting used to verified life, but he’s not retreating. On his third studio album All My Heroes Are Cornballs, a highly anticipated follow-up to 2018 breakout Veteran, rapper JPEGMAFIA doubles down on what made him stand out: darkly humorous and direct socially aware lyrics, products of an intimate knowledge of both alpha and beta toxic masculinity, combined with production that switches on a dime between aggressive and dreamy.

Read our preview of JPEGMAFIA’s Bottom Lounge show from last year here.

19. Baroness - Gold & Grey (Abraxan Hymns)

Gold & Grey is filled with “first”s and “most”s. It’s Baroness’ first album with new guitarist Gina Gleason. It’s their most experimental, versatile, and improvisational record to date. It’s their most band-centric record. Such are details usually delivered in the press release for a hard rock band, ones that don’t change your conception of the littering noise of the record, but here, they ring true.

Read our preview of Baroness’ Durty Nellie’s show last year here.

18. Tyler, the Creator - IGOR (Columbia)

Flower Boy was not a fluke: Gone is the deep-voiced, fired-up Tyler, the Creator that was obsessed with shock, sex, violence, and The Neptunes. His new album IGOR, which chronicles the arc of a failed relationship–falling in love, getting obsessed, breaking up, falling out of love, trying to save a friendship–shows Tyler’s humanity through emotion, mirrored by the complexity of his beats and timbres. The album opens with a dark, blaring bass note before a marching drum beat enters. “They gon’ feel this one,” sings guest Lil Uzi Vert, and later Tyler and Solange (!), too. Lesser rappers and artists would make that line an ad lib. Tyler centers the entire record around it.

Read our preview of Tyler, the Creator’s Credit Union 1 Arena show here.

17. Angel Olsen - All Mirrors (Jagjaguwar)

The history of All Mirrors, Angel Olsen’s fourth studio album, already has a certain lore to it. Like Phil Elverum and many others before her, she went to record a raw, stripped-down album, in the small town of Anacortes, Washington, reflecting on many past platonic and romantic relationships. Afterwards, she recorded a lush, string-arranged version with producer John Congleton, arranger Jherek Bischoff, multi-instrumentalist Ben Babbitt, and a 14-piece orchestra, intending to release both versions of the album. Whether the first will ever see the light of day may remain a legendary “what if,” but the point is that Olsen decided the right way to hear these songs was loud and clear.

Read our preview of Angel Olsen’s Riviera show last year here.

16. Pile - Green and Gray (Exploding in Sound)

Pile is a band who has simply mastered dynamics in songwriting. Vocalist and guitarist Rick Maguire is known for balancing snarling howls with a controlled crooning that breathes life into their songs. Through powerful shifts from quiet builds to triumphant, distorted climaxes, Pile has lost no steam on Green and Gray. It’s not without its straightforward rippers, however—“The Soft Hands of Stephen Miller” is jagged and pointed, and obviously politically charged. Balancing these songs with moments of great calm, Green and Gray shows that Pile is still riding a powerful momentum from their DIY roots. -DP

15. PUP - Morbid Stuff (Rise)

Don’t let the production sheen fool you: Morbid Stuff is, like its title suggests, easily PUP’s darkest record. Throughout, lead singer Stefon Babcock shares tales of urban depression and anxiety, substance abuse, and self-hatred. For the most part, he does so, thankfully, with self-awareness and humor. “Your songs are getting way too literal / How ‘bout some subtlety for a change?” he jokes on nihilistic love song “Kids”. He then knowingly breaks his own rule to chide other pop punk bands for their self-centered attitudes. “Just because you’re sad again / It doesn’t make you special at all,” he sings on “Free At Last”, simultaneously decrying me-against-the-world attitudes while normalizing and de-stigmatizing depression. Sure, there are some truly bleak moments here, as on slow-to-fast drunken singalong “Scorpion Hill”, which ends with a significant other finding a depressed person’s gun, or the pummeling metal-adjacent burner “Full Blown Meltdown”, the most uncomfortably cynical confessional this side of “The Battle of Hampton Roads”. Yet, you relate to Babcock. On “See You At Your Funeral”, with a chorus to back him up, he screams to an ex, “You better hope / You’ll find someone, and you’ll try, but you won’t.” It’s the bad place we’ve all been to, knowing we’re better than that but not acting like it because of the state we’re in. Side-by-side with slow-burning closer “City”, when Babcock sings, “I’m weighed down in this city / Don’t want to love you anymore,” it makes you all the more weary. Morbid stuff, indeed. - Jordan Mainzer

14. Sharon Van Etten - Remind Me Tomorrow (Jagjaguwar)

Produced by extraordinaire John Congleton, Van Etten’s ditching of guitars for synthesizer is wholly natural, and more impressively, original, taking influence from reference points without wearing them on its sleeve. Moreover, the idea that Van Etten needed stark acoustic balladry or traditional rock instrumentation to help convey her emotions is, in hindsight, ridiculous. On Remind Me Tomorrow, no matter the instrumentation, she slays, showing her power as a singer and a lyricist from the record’s very opening.

Read the rest of our review here.

13. oso oso - basking in the glow (Triple Crown)

Like the best songwriters that toe the line between emo and indie rock, Jade Lilitri writes anthems for the downtrodden that embrace genuineness while avoiding cloying earnestness. His new album as Oso Oso, Basking in the Glow, has everything from lo-fi bedroom pop to stadium-size singalongs, all bound together by Lilitri’s ambition. “Always coming up short ‘cause you’re dreaming so small,” he pointedly sings on “Intro” over a jaunty acoustic guitar line. Dreaming–and performing–big is what he does for most of the rest of the record. Rocker “The View” is one of many instant classics, this one about being in love with someone apathetic while managing to avoid apathy about yourself. “Well I’ll grow, we’ll see / If there’s something good in me,” he plans, eyes toward the future.

Read our preview of oso oso’s Beat Kitchen show last year here.

12. Duster - Duster (Mudgutts)

The strange legacy of Duster is a shining example of the power of both cult fandom and the use of internet forums for preserving and re-birthing history. A band that was unique in timbre and in mood, its origins are in cozy, wobbly tape recordings and fuzzed out bliss. Through two excellent records in the late 90′s to early 2000′s, they carved out a special sonic lane for themselves and then apparently drifted into obscurity, but their method of affecting a sort of space-gazing wonderment with the methodical drift of slowcore gained them an ever adoring and growing online listenership. Through boards and forums like 4chan’s /mu/, many people who never could have grown up with them grew a sense of connection and rabid curiosity, painstakingly curating their most forgotten demos and recordings. Several years later, their reunion was a cause for unparalleled excitement for fans. The idea of seeing Duster live was almost daunting. Their live performance, and more notably, Duster, give a sense that this band was able to pick right back up where they left, however, wandering through a tangled haze of oddly tuned guitars and warm crackle just as they did before. “Copernicus Crater” is built on a foundation of a riff that feels so inherent to Duster, as though its simple repetition and haplessness could not have spawned from any other band. The entire record stumbles through these kinds of moments of enigmatic joy, like seeing an old friend, skewed by warbly fog. - DP

11. Vagabon - Vagabon (Nonesuch)

On the road after touring her excellent debut Infinite Worlds, all she had was a computer and Logic, and she took the opportunity to hone her songwriting and production, doing both entirely on the new record. What results is a far cry from the devastating indie rock of her debut. “Full Moon In Gemini” sports dancey, thumping percussion, “Water Me Down” sparkly arpeggios and a minimal techno beat. On “Please Don’t Leave The Table”, she combines cascading, washing cymbals with syncopated hi hats and brassy bass. “I’m still eating,” she says to someone on that song, completing the title command, demanding respect.

Read our preview of Vagabon’s Riviera set from last year here.

10. black midi - Schlagenheim (Rough Trade)

Another band who met at BRIT school who learned to play guitar from Franz Ferdinand? Yeah, but Black Midi transcend even the hype they deserve. The very fact that hours of jamming contributed to a few bars of songs on their instant classic debut album Schlagenheim is already legendary, and the band covers territory from noise punk to jazz to surf rock to Slint-esque post-rock to chaotically played and sung math rock and…I’m out of breath. “We won’t build to this code,” Geordie Greep sang on “Speedway”, a standout from Schlagenheim, the band’s statement of purpose denoting that they’re truly trying to do something new with all of the above.

Read our review of black midi’s Pitchfork Music Festival 2019 set here.

9. Octo Octa - Resonant Body (T4T LUV NRG)

Maya Bouldry-Morrison, better known as Octo Octa, has always encouraged a sense of love and community through her music and DJ sets. Her vision of the dance floor is unique and veers into the realm of spiritual—community building and self-love are key to her work, and Resonant Body approaches her concept of bodily connection and actualization through a more focused exploration of nature. Having recorded all of its contents in a cabin in New Hampshire, Resonant Body’s sound world still explores a familiar blend of house, rave, and techno, but there is an easily felt kind of spirituality and self-relinquishing that peeks through. Tracks like “Spin Girl, Let’s Activate!” build on foundations one may come to expect out of a big house track, but its progression is anything but mechanical, and its uplifting power is infectious and undeniable. Combined with subtler, more reflective ambient moments, such as “My Body is Powerful,” Octo Octa’s mission purpose of empowerment and healing is injected with a palpable potency. -DP

8. Sudan Archives - Athena (Stones Throw)

On her debut album Athena, violinist/singer Brittney Denise Parks--better known as Sudan Archives--directly explores and conveys her sexuality. Adapting church hymns and delivering classical music-inspired interludes, among honest songs of love and relationships, she manipulates the violin to convey all-encompassing emotions and physicality. “I realize I lost my mind,” she sings on opener “Did You Know?” next to staccato plucks. “Confessions”, on the contrary, features lush, weeping lines over a panning click beat. And violin textures provide even percussion on the resonant “House of Open Tuning II”. The best songs, though, are confrontational. “Do you wanna go play outside? Do you wanna go down?” Parks poses to a lover on “Green Eyes", a song that begins stark with a low-mixed flange effect but eventually juxtaposes synth and violins for maximum depth. And on the finger-snapping “Limitless”, towards the end of the album, she addresses someone changed for the worse by an unhealthy relationship. “What happened to your dreams? All you care about is things,” she asks, the alternate to this materialism the spirited love and lust she’s presented throughout Athena. - JM

7. Charly Bliss - Young Enough (Barsuk)

A Charly Bliss song is often an alchemic mix of danceable, driving guitar supporting lyrics that land like a sucker punch if you listen closely. Young Enough, the band’s second album, both taps into what they do so well and expands upon it, adding slicker synths and a poppier edge. “Blown to Bits” begins with droning, warm synth. “Chatroom” revels in a pop sound and bursts with the triumph of coming out of trauma stronger. If you managed to see one of Charly Bliss' tour dates for this album, you won't be surprised to see that the band's typical infectious energy is completely intact, a fury of guitars and flouncing skirts and white Doc Martens. But you may have noticed the shift in tone at "Hurt Me". The lights go soft, and Eva Hendricks' boundless energy becomes laser-focused. The show seems to shift, the lyrics repeated like an incantation: “Eyes like a funeral, mouth like a bruise / Veins like a hallway, voice like a wound.” It’s new territory for the band, showcasing Hendricks’ lyrical prowess in a different light. - LL

6. Purple Mountains - Purple Mountains (Drag City)

It is too easy when listening to the beautiful run of Purple Mountains to read its touching words as a farewell, but this betrays not only a deeper poetry, but a genuine effort on David Berman’s to come to peace with the world and his own demons. Though he struggled with what he referred to as “treatment-resistant depression,” his return to recorded music and his bravery in expanding his body of sonic work is an undeniable triumph. Having had the privilege of visiting a gallery in his tribute at Drag City--his long-time label and part-time home--it is clear the affect his humble kindness had on people. It seems those who knew him hang on to his every word, mannerism, and quirk. Even in his bleakest lyrics, Berman affects a sense of humor and wit that his fans have obsessed over for decades. His knack for Americana kitsch and ephemera, the way he speaks on the strangeness of consumption (“Margaritas at the Mall,” most notably, and in his declarative utterance of “The end of all wanting is all that I am wanting”), and his portrayal of isolation are just a few of the methods that make his songwriting so harrowing and instantly effective. Backed by members of Woods, the music behind his words hits harder than ever, without ever abandoning a kind of simplicity and directness he is known for. Purple Mountains is challenging in ways other records simply aren’t, exuding warmth and fear all at once, but never telling the listener how they are supposed to feel. Berman’s prose on his relationships with those in his life are made so tangible and relatable but are always treated with the complexity and reverence they deserve, and his legacy will touch listeners for a long time. - DP

5. Jamila Woods - LEGACY! LEGACY! (Jagjaguwar)

Yes, Jamila Woods’ stunning LEGACY! LEGACY! is a tribute to important artists of color. What makes it stand out among other tributes, however, is the remarkable way Woods is able to present how each figure has guided her. Take opener “BETTY”, about funk artist Betty Davis, a woman married to a far more famous jazz trumpeter who gets his own song later on. Woods explores the gender and power dynamic in the relationship and uses it to make a personal and universal plea: “Let me be, I’m trying to fly.” Fly, she does. On “ZORA”, over a hip hop beat, Woods succinctly declares in an all-time line, “My weaponry is my energy”, the drive and desire the catalyst in the noble goal to make her mark on the world as a black woman as opposed to while being a black woman. In various interviews surrounding the album release, Woods spoke about being inspired by black artists who perform and make art truly for themselves independent and often in spite of the race of the end consumers. “Motherfuckers won’t shut up,” beings “MUDDY”, referencing Muddy Waters adoption of electric guitar because white audiences would talk over his sets; “Shut up, motherfucker,” she sings inversely on “MILES”, “I don’t take requests.” But the percussive, jazzy “EARTHA” best encapsulates her aims of self-love and ultimate pride. “I used to be afraid of myself,” Woods admits before stating, “I don’t wanna compromise.” Ultimately, the refrain of, “Who’s gonna share my love for me with me?” is the mindset by which Woods approaches relationships throughout the record and then life itself. You can be a part of it, but she comes first. - JM

4. Mannequin Pussy - Patience (Epitaph)

On Patience, Mannequin Pussy’s hugest-sounding and best album yet, lead singer Marisa Dabice makes it obvious what she’s singing about, which works to the band’s advantage. Yet, the songs themselves and the feelings they describe, let alone exude, are complex. Produced by emo heavyweight Will Yip, the album features swirling, fuzzed out, guitars on top of meaty drum beats, and layered ascending vocals alternating with desperate, raw screams, a perfect concoction of sounds to mirror Dabice’s emotional turmoil.

Read our preview of Mannequin Pussy’s Lincoln Hall show last year here.

3. Black Belt Eagle Scout - At The Party With My Brown Friends (Saddle Creek)

You might expect an album called At The Party With My Brown Friends to have overt political references. For many people of color--especially queer and indigenous folks like Katherine Paul--existing in the party called life is an inherent political statement. The gorgeous record finds Paul finding solidarity with others; “We will always sing,” she declares on the opening track. So even when she’s simply singing about her own forlorn heart, confusing dreams, or going to the beach with a friend and making music, she’s doing so in a space traditionally dominated by straight white men. That’s not unique to Paul (neither is her excellent guitar playing stile, from slow scrapes and atonal riffing to reverb-soaked, dreamy licks, which I’d be remiss to leave out here), which is where “friends” comes in. At The Party With My Brown Friends is a record also for those friends, for anyone for whom society has forbidden self-expression. On emotional centerpiece “I Said I Wouldn’t Write This Song”, Paul sings, “Nothing ever comes when you want it to.” Of course, such a statement is exaggerated and absolute, and Paul knows that. The very song title sees her avoiding self-pity. But what’s important to Paul is being honest with herself in the moment; it empowers her and others. - JM

2. (Sandy) Alex G - House of Sugar (Domino)

Through a dazzling string of records—whose production methods have evolved from charming bedroom quality to ostensibly effortless polish—(Sandy) Alex G has come full circle with respect to his command over chaos. He has always dabbled effectively in auxiliary sounds, glitches, and vocal manipulation, but on House of Sugar, there is never a moment where any experimentation or stylistic left turns feel jarring or forced. That isn’t to say that this record is any kind of straightforward affair, but (Sandy) Alex G’s careful honing of his songwriting and curation craft has reigned all of the manic threads he is known for into a cohesive whole better than ever before. Single “Gretel” is emblematic of this mastery, toying with his signature granular pitched-up vocals, bending synths, cryptic lyrics, and above all else, stunningly affecting songwriting. Splicing the cryptic in with the readily apparent—“Hope,” for example, is hauntingly and unabashedly about a friend who died of overdose—(Sandy) Alex G’s vision for a narrative world that constantly flirts with reality and fiction is more actualized than ever before. - DP

1. FKA twigs - MAGDALENE (Young Turks)

I can’t think of an album that encapsulates not only last year but the last decade more than FKA twigs’ MAGDALENE. That it’s a stunning achievement in composition would be enough to top most year-end lists alone. But that it manages to combine and ultimately rise above the aesthetic and thematic trends in pop music of the last 10 years is what makes it an all-time great. Tahliah Barnett presents a journey of contemporary genres--ambient R&B, maximal noise, and even trap--in a story of the internal mind behind the external success. If many of the decade’s prominent hip hop artists, from behemoths like Drake to the emo stylings of Soundcloud masters, treated their songs like real-time diary entries, twigs explores the spacious, non-linear, borderline circular trauma of a broken heart.

The combination of Barnett’s voice and delivery, whether an instrumental coo or ASMR-like crispness, and production style is able to weave her narrative. “If I walk out the door, it starts our last goodbye,” she sings on choral, a capella opener “thousand eyes”, eventually giving way to foreboding, echoing percussion. With co-production from Nicolas Jaar, the song snowballs into a cacophony of bass and twigs’ skipping falsetto, a disconcerting introduction to a doomed relationship. The internal strife that twigs alludes to throughout MAGDALENE is “internal” in more ways than one: In addition to her relationship with Robert Pattinson falling apart (not to mention the very public racism directed towards Twigs from some Twilight fans), she also had fibroid tumors which had to be surgically removed. The record represents her emotional processing of these multiple pains. On “holy terrain”, which features production from Skrillex and Jack Antonoff and a verse from Future, she sings, “Will you still be there for me, once I'm yours to obtain? / Once my fruits are for taking and you flow through my veins? / Do you still think I'm beautiful, when my tears fall like rain?” This devotion as much a requirement for future lovers as it is an in-the-moment plea to her current one. The showstopping “mirrored heart” beautifully captures the inevitable fate of last-ditch efforts. Barnett’s gentle coo is offset by clanging production from Koreless. “For the lovers who found a mirrored heart / They just remind me I’m without you,” she sings. And the Oneohtrix Point Never-assisted “daybed” is a stunning description of depression, wherein things aren’t like they naturally are, twigs’ only friends the fruit flies buzzing around her pile of dirty dishes. 

It all leads to closer “cellophane”, the first single and music video released way back in April before MAGDALENE was even announced. The video shows twigs’ pole dancing, which she learned for the video; the song sports a piano rhythm over a quiet, beat-boxed beat. She keeps the words abstract: “And didn’t I do it for you? / Why don’t I do it for you? / Why won’t you do it for me / When all I do is for you?” The song is the best of the year and a timeless heart-breaker, one that again bends time: In singing about how he’s not doing it for her, she’s��doing it for her. - JM

[steamishot]

Weekend recap

friday - dropped my parents off in monterey park to go on their chinese tour trip with their friends. had to wake up at 5:10am and pick their couple friends up along the way because my dad offered. it was interesting hearing their conversations. my “auntie” was talking about how their friends bought big homes (3-4 rooms) but it’s extra work now that their kids have moved out. more work has to be done for cleaning and maintenance and it might have been a better idea just to get a small, one bedroom place. they talked about how now that they’ve reached 60, to focus on a decade at a time, and try to enjoy themselves from 60-70. once they reach 70, they can reevaluate again. 

on saturday, b and i attended the cambodia town film festival. my saturday was quite packed so i almost started to dread driving far out to long beach and questioned if i still even wanted to go. i also slept awkwardly the night before, so i had an uncomfortable stiffness in my neck all day. every time this neck stiffness happens, it affects my whole body and energy level. i was anxious because i left my house later than anticipated (bc facetiming with matt), and i get anxious when i’m late to events lol. finding parking was also hard too, which made me even more anxious. on top of that, i was afraid of running into my ex, any of his friends/family or anyone that i may know. 

anyway, we made it on time and caught a short film about a czech lady who longed to host a cambodian family after hearing about the khmer rouge. she empathized with them because her country went through something similar. the film was quite slow and it took some time for me to relax and get into it. i was also distracted by my hunger and thirst. luckily, during the break before the main movie premiered, we got to stop by the falafel shop next door and pick up some pretty good food/snacks! by the time we were back, i was more comfortable, relaxed and ready to enjoy the movie. i was immediately engaged in the movie, and it was very easy to follow and watch. the soundtrack was beautiful and parts of the movie were so heavy and emotional i wanted to cry. 92 minutes went by in an instant. we were grateful to be able to stay afterwards for a Q&A session with the directors, producers, and of course, ellen wong! i was really excited to see her in person, and she’s prettier in real life imo. the directors of CTFT were also there. one was praCh ly, a rapper who apparently was rumored to have a relationship with angelina jolie (i found out after looking him up). when the questions were open to audience, there was a middle age cambodian man who said, “this movie really touched my heart. thank you for making it. i want to know, where in cambodia did you film it?” it was like being in adult/post-college UKS and i had a sense of belonging to this community. there was also a panel afterwards, descendants of genocide survivors. 

b and i got a pic with ellen wong. initially, i was scared to go up to her because i wasn’t sure what i’d say. thankfully b is more courageous than i am and we got it. :) the first thing we said to her was, “we’re chinese cambodian too” and ellen goes, “ME TOO!”. it was my first time meeting/talking to a celebrity, and i’m glad it was her. i’ve seen her as knives chau in scott pilgrim, and thought she looked familiar/like she’s one of my people. never questioned it until recently. just learned a few months ago that she’s also teochew, chinese parents from cambodia, and started fangirling her since. lucky to have it play out like this. i drove home starstruck.

since my parents are out of town, i ate dinner at a thai restaurant with my uncle and grandma, then headed back home to prep/pack for paint nite at L’s place. b came over and we picked s up before heading over to meet L and LC. paint nite was therapeutic. great snacks and wine. L asked a lot of questions to kinda get to know everyone on a deeper level. we painted from like 7:45pm to 10pm and got kicked out of the common room when it closed at 10. at that point, most people were like 70-98% done. i was like 98% done lol. i admire L for being mature and having her shit together, and as i was leaning towards building that life for myself, i started becoming more annoyed at b, who is more wild spirited and all over the place. however, i appreciated b more last night. she’s definitely one of a kind and its nice to have her at parties because she does make things more fun. she even got us/L to go out to a bar (at which we only stayed like 30 min lol). i ended up getting home around 1am, which is late for me. it was refreshing to go out and see people at bars/nightlife, even though it drained me being in the environment. it’s nice once in a while to absorb others’ youthful energies and not be such a grandma all the time.  

sunday- even though i only had 6-7 hours of sleep, i woke up feeling good. my stiff neck went away and i got up to get ready for my UX dim sum event. i attended this event with my indian mama. the event was interesting and basically what we practiced in class. our workshop was a mix of those who have been to dim sum many times before/grew up with it and those who are first or second timers. we shared our observations, interviewed each other, and shared more/new observations. we tackled the problems in the design that we discovered, such as- how do we even know what each dish is? what’s in each dish? and we explored the cart system and difficulties of ordering. it was really cool to view dim sum in a new light. i don’t see any of the proposals we came up with being used in 626, where it’s predominately asian, but it might be useful in like chinatown, cerritos, south bay, etc where there the customers are less homogenous (i think). it made me realize how inclusive dim sum is. you go in, and there’s no instruction on how the system works. no friendly staff to be like, “is this your first time here? blahblahblah”. you just have to figure it out on your own, or rely on people who have been there before to teach you. 

in our table of 14 today, i sat in between my indian mama and a mexican/german UX researcher girl. it was my indian mama’s first time and the UX researcher’s second time at dim sum. part of what makes the experience fun and interesting is getting to see others experience dim sum for the first time. as a dim sum “veteran”, i also take on the role of the caretaker, explaining what each dish is to the best of my knowledge, and helping them out with chopsticks/grabbing food. 

design thinking is not easy. i still tend to be timid and not speak up in group environments, and i feel self conscious that i’m not contributing enough. i’d definitely feel more comfortable once i’ve seen and worked with the same people before, but i’m still shy at the beginning. from what i’ve seen today, your presentation skills/ability to articulate an idea well really matter a lot. the others in the workshop were able to make everyone laugh as they were explaining their ideas, whereas i was more serious and mousy - and therefore not very fun. oh well, i’m glad i did something out of my comfort zone today. :) made me happy to also be with my indian mama when she tried dimsum and half and half for the first time. 

[austinpanda]

Dad Letter 060219

2 June, 2019

Dear Dad--

Things are going okay here! I’ll take a look at that Vonnegut book. I don’t think it’s one I’ve read yet. I’m continuing to watch that Chernobyl mini-series, and continuing to enjoy it! This is despite the fact that last week’s penultimate episode was such an undiluted pisser. It really had some depressing parts in it! Part of that episode follows the team of three guys who were assigned to walk around the city of Pripyat (right next to Chernobyl) and shoot all the dogs and cats. Most were domesticated animals that were left behind when the citizens were evacuated. (I believe those citizens were also told they’d just be gone two or three days.) So you get to spend a lot of the episode watching guys go around whistling to summon all the local pooches, only to then terminate them with extreme prejudice (and a rifle). On the brighter side, they do dedicate themselves to reducing the animals’ suffering as much as possible. This is good for the mini-series ultimately--because it makes them more nuanced and less one-dimensional--and also necessary, because if they enjoyed killing everyone’s dogs and cats, they wouldn’t be sympathetic characters, and you wouldn’t want to keep watching unless something terrible happens to them.

But no, they’re actual sympathetic human beings, and they aren’t thrilled about having to do this job, so you end up liking them. And it’s a job that needed to be done; can’t have radioactive animals running about. And it’s the 80s in the Soviet Union, so of course everyone smokes cigarettes, which makes me want a cigarette. Also, note to self: If I ever live near a nuclear power plant, since they don’t make dogs that are impervious to radiation yet, just remember to take the hypothetical dog with me if they ever evacuate the town for any reason. I already know I’d take my one current pet (Samuel L. Jackson, cat) with me if Austin were evacuated for any reason.

It’s been a good week! My job has been less stressful of late, and our plan to move to a northern state has been moving in the right direction lately too. I now know how we break lease here, while screwing ourselves as little as possible. It seems that, if we break lease here, which means moving out any time before the end of November, they’re okay with that! They just expect 30 days’ notice, and a payment of about $2,450. That’s the “OMG MY ASS” news. The slightly better news is that the fee is cut in half if you agree to pay it before you move. So I now know that they can’t make me pay full rent for all the months I wouldn’t be living there, but they can make me pay a $1200-ish fee. I can kinda see that. I mean, that’s stupidly expensive, and fuck those guys, but if I can just pay a fee and give 30 days, that’s better than it might have been.

One thing I keep thinking about: I’m not a huge fan of never-ending car trips. I like being in unfamiliar places, and visiting places I’ve always read about, but the actual getting there (by car, by plane, etc.) can kiss my ass. If I move to Maine, it’s going to take three days just to drive there. Although, now that I’m about halfway through this paragraph, that part sounds less awful. Once I leave Texas, pretty much every place I go will be someplace I’ve never been before. I’ll get to see states I’ve only ever heard of, like Tennessee, (or Paris, France, or the surface of the Moon, for that matter)...part of me is still convinced these places couldn’t possibly exist in real life, so I have to go there and find out for myself. Then again, it’s just Tennessee, and I won’t be able to smoke cigarettes the whole drive, so...okay, yep, I’m back to being convinced that I’ll hate the trip. Ha! I’m precious.

But what the hell! I’ll also drive through Vermont; that should be cool. And I’ll go through Massachusetts, so perhaps I’ll see what Boston looks like. For the moment, though, I’m still working in the same place, and little has actually changed in my life, though I’ve spent the year gathering & stashing every cardboard box I could get my hands on. Also I’m making my resume. I fear it’s going to be a little heavy on the Progressive shit and a little light on everything else. My adult life has basically been university, black hole (had to live with Mom a while), move to Austin and get hired at Progressive in 1996, and that pretty much takes us up to the present day. This is partly why we want to move, of course. Austin does several things very well, but most of them are things I don’t like, such as live music, constant allergy issues, drinking on 6th street, jogging through the parks, and having a sweaty forehead. I hate all of that shit.

One thing Austin does right, which I shall miss, is movies. If you go to an Alamo Drafthouse Theater here in Austin, before every movie they show, they show a short reminder film telling you that if you talk during the movie, or use your cell phone, or arrive after the movie starts, they WILL politely kick your ass right out of the building with no refund. They’re serious as a heart attack about that shit. I’ve never seen them do it, because no one talks or uses their cell phone during the movie at Alamo Drafthouse, which, presumably, is part of why they like going there. It’s awesome. No one ever brought a crying baby to a movie at Alamo Drafthouse, because NO TALKING, dammit, and that goes for your baby, too. It’s all about making sure your movie going experience isn’t interrupted by the unfortunate carelessness of others. I don’t ever want to go to another movie theater after going to an Alamo Drafthouse.

There is a good youtube video of a drunk woman calling the theater to complain after being kicked out. I believe, at one point, she refers to our country as, “The Mag-nited States of America!” I’ll find it.

Found it! Here we go:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1L3eeC2lJZs

I’m going to finish updating my resume today, and prepare myself for the week ahead. Have a good week yourself!

[thinktwice222]

Last nite and tomorrow, last day’s post

Why the fuck am I like this.

Hung out with my coworker and his group last night.  Met some cool people.  Knew the bartender, friend of an old group that I hung around.  But I run hot, so I try to steer clear to avoid personal trouble, or what I consider trouble.  Drank some beer, stole their beer by accident because of course I was immediately overwhelmed and I didn’t care who’s was who’s.  Talked to some guys in the group, one kid I have definitely seen around but never talked to.  

The other person was a videographer which is really cool, got to talking to him.  Of course when I get talking about my art, it’s about me.  And because the history is difficult, and not only am I already really intense and thorough with my work, it ends up into me talking out a wall of information.  By the end there is no room for, ‘tell me about your work’.  The next part of the conversation is sexism in institutions.  

That and I touched my coworkers hand, but i think that’s okay.  If I remember correctly he has touch my shoulder and it isn’t a big deal.  I get really freaked out about instances like that because I know I am flirtatious and it kills me.  All I do is think about my mom and her flirtations, the ones that she shouldn’t have been doing because of very real implications. but maybe she was naturally like that and it was perceived in a bad light. Who fucking knows, that’s the problem.  And I have resided to not knowing, which is even more.

Question of the day is should I smoke? (today that is)

Mercury is cazimi the sun in  a superior passing, offering moments of clarity which I’m hoping to catch.  Those moments.... they can be something to look forward too..

Work is on Friday, I have the choice to pull a double then but it doesnt make much sense if I don’t finish the inked version of comic book project 1 and a solid sketch of comic book 2.  Both are due friday, I could either finish them tonight and email them late, or send them out friday night. Need to also paint my nails.

My xlr cable to 1/4″ jack is coming today, and my mic will be up and running.  Perfect time to have the house to myself. I’m probably going to sound bad, I know I don’t have my vocal strength but I should have a good range.  I have been really quiet since I graduated, most of my tallking just went to roost in my head.  I felt that much of my thought had only one listener, all the menial aspects of life and feelings to myself.  I hope I’m not too fucked up.

In my dream last night I had a date, but I thought it was my old bf.  Because I never made much eye contact in my dream I was not able to discern  it was a totally different guy that I went on a date with once (in the dream realm), he was really about me but he was weird.  I was a little shocked about the realization because I was relaxed, maybe aloof about sharing physical contact (aka letting my leg touch his and such), which I ended up pulling away upon realization.  Anyways the other half was he was always hanging out with his older brother, but it turns out the brother was actually dead and was just fucking around as a ghost. The were kids hanging around, I lived in a basement, and outside my room weddings and events could be thrown.

My stomach hates me now, but at least I can breathe out of one of my nostrils.  Trying to decide if I should crawl back in bed and not start my morning after writing this.  Sort of because I still feel like I have things to say.  Maybe I would have kept a diary if I could have written online in my youth.  The one journal I knew I had was placed up on top of the refrigerator at one point. That was the place of things kept away. I felt a lot of things when I was younger, I wouldn’t be surprised if I wrote those things down.  But also being raised by the catholic school I went to I think really put it in me to be ashamed that I had those feelings towards another.  

Maybe I should be apologetically myself here, make enemies or friends, or whatever and just move, far away and let this be my grave site.  I wish my practice was stronger so I had something to hide behind. My talking has a home in my head, but where is my pride to hide.

I hear a garbage collection truck passing so I’m getting offset on the quandary of if the trash or recycling needs to be taken out.

The videographer was talking about just continuing your work.  Great thing about art is that you don’t get too old for it.  He was talking about the age limit of some pursuits.  I agree, art is for the long haul. break time, I think a hangover might be catching up.

Okay, ended up smoking.  Watching the series called “episodes”.  It’s pretty funny, and its something to watch.  Still not ready to get to work.

[samuelpboswell]

5 Key ABM Trends for B2B Marketers to Track Heading into 2020

I’ve attended two B2B conferences in the past few months – B2B Sales and Marketing Exchange in Boston, and MarketingProfs B2B Forum in Washington DC – and at both, account-based marketing was unmistakably top-of-mind. A majority of sessions and conversations evoked the term in some fashion, matching the trend I’ve noticed online and in client interactions. A look at the Google Trends trajectory for “account based marketing” over the past five years reminds me a bit of the trajectory for “content marketing” in the five years prior. It’s only natural that B2B organizations everywhere are either adopting or taking an interest in ABM, because the strategy is founded on so many key pillars of effective marketing today: personalization, organizational alignment, and the focused pursuit of high-value customers. Understanding the state of ABM and where it’s heading is critical for any B2B marketing practitioner today. Based on what I’ve been picking up at these events, along with data shared in the newly released 2019 ABM Benchmark Survey Report from Demand Gen Report, here are five trends to focus on as we move into 2020.

5 Key ABM Trends to Plan Around in 2020

The fourth annual ABM benchmark study from Demand Gen Report, which surveyed more than 100 B2B business executives from various industries, ranging across several roles, serves to confirm and reinforce a number of trends we’re seeing in the world of account-based marketing.

1. ABM is B2B Marketing

Only 6% of respondents in the survey said they are not doing ABM yet in any form. Meanwhile, 50% said they’ve had their ABM initiatives in place for more than a year, while another 25% gotten started within the past six to 12 months.  When we covered Demand Gen Report’s 2016 survey on ABM benchmarks, only 47% of respondents said they had an ABM strategy, so clearly the practice has grown substantially in a span of three years. For me, this growth not only signals that B2B brands are increasingly conscious of creating content and experiences for specific buying audiences, but that those efforts are aimed beyond a singular buyer. After all, one of the major premises of ABM is acknowledging that different people with different viewpoints make up a buying committee, something that every B2B marketer needs to pay attention to on the go-forward.

2. Sales and Marketing Alignment is the Biggest ABM Challenge

Most companies report being in the earlier stages of ABM maturity, and it’s evident that sales and marketing alignment is a common barrier to progress, with a leading 46% of survey respondents citing it as their biggest ABM-related challenge.  (Source: 2019 ABM Benchmark Survey Report) This struggle isn’t unique to account-based marketing, of course, but ABM is uniquely positioned to help solve it. A strategic and sophisticated ABM program is built on orchestrated account selection, outreach, and nurturing processes. These strategies also tend to measure success based on overall results rather than getting bogged down in credit attribution, helping reduce friction and internal contention. Better alignment between sales and marketing can contribute to a successful ABM program. But the opposite is also true. Creating unity around such an initiative might begin with changing the way we talk about it. In his session at B2B Marketing Exchange (B2BMX) back in February, Oracle’s Kelvin Gee explained that his team prefers to remove the word “marketing” from the phrase because it can feel isolating and disconnected. “We believe words matter,” he said. “We just call it ‘account-based’ because we’re all in it together.” [bctt tweet="Rather than account-based MARKETING, we just call it account-based because we’re all in it together. @kgee #AccountBased #ABM" username="toprank"] Certainly, successfully achieving sales and marketing alignment has been a top challenge for brands for ages. But B2B marketers can be the change agents here, as Shahid Javed of Hughes Network Systems shared during his B2BMX session. “Marketing is a service provider to sales—sales is our customer. We need to be able to empower them and enable them to solve problems. We need to make them the hero in the buyer’s eyes.” [bctt tweet="Sales is our customer. We need to be able to empower them and enable them to solve problems. @shahidj #SalesAndMarketingAlignment" username="toprank"] For a framework to actualize sales and marketing alignment, you might start with this three-phase approach from Shahid:

Listening and Information Gathering (Engaging stakeholders and simply listening to what they have to say.)

Finding the Sweet Spot (Analyzing your data to create a mutually beneficial plan that can bring everyone together—and get C-suite buy-in.)

Empowering Execution (Making it easy for the sales team to get the marketing and sales collateral they need to be the hero for their customers.)

3. Sales Teams Are Driving Account Selection

When asked how they build and formulate their targeted account lists for ABM, a whopping 80% of respondents said this directive is led by the sales team. Here were the other responses in the report:

Firmographic: 68% currently using, 22% plan to use

Technographic: 35% currently using, 40% plan to use

Behavioral/Intent Signals: 55% currently using, 13% plan to use

Predictive: 26% currently using, 39% plan to use

It obviously makes a ton of sense for sales to be heavily involved with account selection – they know first-hand which types of accounts are easiest to work with and most likely to convert – but there is a clear opportunity for marketing to play a bigger role here, perhaps by taking charge with some of the other methods listed. Technographics (the analysis of potential accounts based on their current technology stacks) appears to be viewed as most promising.  As Ty Heath framed account selection during her talk on combining ABM and social selling at MPB2B: “It boils down to, what accounts do you think will be profitable long-term, will be pleasurable to work with, and do you think you can make a real difference for?” Several voices ought to be involved in reaching these conclusions. [bctt tweet="It boils down to, what accounts do you think will be profitable long-term, will be pleasurable to work with, and do you think you can make a real difference for. @tyrona #ABM #SocialSelling" username="toprank"]

4. B2B Influencers Aren’t Yet Being Widely Integrated

Speaking of clear opportunities, I was stunned by the graph below. Among six types of content and experiences listed for ABM usage, influencer advocate-related content was last in prevalence at only 29%.  (Source: 2019 ABM Benchmark Survey Report) As I wrote earlier this year, B2B influencers and ABM are a powerful combination. The focused nature of account-based strategies lends itself well to collaborating with subject matter experts who are visible to, and trusted by, the prospects you most want to engage. When you know specifically who you’re trying to reach, you can confidently identify niche influencers that your audience is likely to recognize and listen to. Research shows that people are more likely to trust technical experts and peers in their field than brand-driven messaging.  Seeing this synergy and opportunity, I’m excited for our team at TopRank Marketing to keep expanding our world-class influencer capabilities in the ABM space specifically. 

5. Quantity Is the Primary Measurement Focus for ABM

How are B2B marketing executives measuring the success of their ABM programs? Here’s how the responses shook out:

Net-new accounts engaged (60%)

Number of qualified accounts (52%)

Contribution to pipeline revenue (50%)

Win rate (50%)

Pipeline velocity (46%)

Account engagement score (41%)

It comes as no surprise that bottom-line numbers are being prioritized over relative rate metrics. Business leaders want to see results, and considering that 69% of respondents in the survey report that their account-based efforts are meeting or exceeding expectations, it seems those results are there.

Find Your Perfect Fit with ABM

Buzzwords aside, account-based marketing is a very simple and natural evolution for B2B marketing. Whether or not you want to attach the label, virtually every business that markets to other businesses should be adhering to many of ABM’s core principles. Looking to learn more about ABM and its fundamentals? Check out this primer from our own Josh Nite: What You Need to Know to Get Started with Account-Based Marketing.

The post 5 Key ABM Trends for B2B Marketers to Track Heading into 2020 appeared first on Online Marketing Blog - TopRank®.

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5 Key ABM Trends for B2B Marketers to Track Heading into 2020

I’ve attended two B2B conferences in the past few months – B2B Sales and Marketing Exchange in Boston, and MarketingProfs B2B Forum in Washington DC – and at both, account-based marketing was unmistakably top-of-mind. A majority of sessions and conversations evoked the term in some fashion, matching the trend I’ve noticed online and in client interactions. A look at the Google Trends trajectory for “account based marketing” over the past five years reminds me a bit of the trajectory for “content marketing” in the five years prior. It’s only natural that B2B organizations everywhere are either adopting or taking an interest in ABM, because the strategy is founded on so many key pillars of effective marketing today: personalization, organizational alignment, and the focused pursuit of high-value customers. Understanding the state of ABM and where it’s heading is critical for any B2B marketing practitioner today. Based on what I’ve been picking up at these events, along with data shared in the newly released 2019 ABM Benchmark Survey Report from Demand Gen Report, here are five trends to focus on as we move into 2020.

5 Key ABM Trends to Plan Around in 2020

The fourth annual ABM benchmark study from Demand Gen Report, which surveyed more than 100 B2B business executives from various industries, ranging across several roles, serves to confirm and reinforce a number of trends we’re seeing in the world of account-based marketing.

1. ABM is B2B Marketing

Only 6% of respondents in the survey said they are not doing ABM yet in any form. Meanwhile, 50% said they’ve had their ABM initiatives in place for more than a year, while another 25% gotten started within the past six to 12 months.  When we covered Demand Gen Report’s 2016 survey on ABM benchmarks, only 47% of respondents said they had an ABM strategy, so clearly the practice has grown substantially in a span of three years. For me, this growth not only signals that B2B brands are increasingly conscious of creating content and experiences for specific buying audiences, but that those efforts are aimed beyond a singular buyer. After all, one of the major premises of ABM is acknowledging that different people with different viewpoints make up a buying committee, something that every B2B marketer needs to pay attention to on the go-forward.

2. Sales and Marketing Alignment is the Biggest ABM Challenge

Most companies report being in the earlier stages of ABM maturity, and it’s evident that sales and marketing alignment is a common barrier to progress, with a leading 46% of survey respondents citing it as their biggest ABM-related challenge.  (Source: 2019 ABM Benchmark Survey Report) This struggle isn’t unique to account-based marketing, of course, but ABM is uniquely positioned to help solve it. A strategic and sophisticated ABM program is built on orchestrated account selection, outreach, and nurturing processes. These strategies also tend to measure success based on overall results rather than getting bogged down in credit attribution, helping reduce friction and internal contention. Better alignment between sales and marketing can contribute to a successful ABM program. But the opposite is also true. Creating unity around such an initiative might begin with changing the way we talk about it. In his session at B2B Marketing Exchange (B2BMX) back in February, Oracle’s Kelvin Gee explained that his team prefers to remove the word “marketing” from the phrase because it can feel isolating and disconnected. “We believe words matter,” he said. “We just call it ‘account-based’ because we’re all in it together.” [bctt tweet="Rather than account-based MARKETING, we just call it account-based because we’re all in it together. @kgee #AccountBased #ABM" username="toprank"] Certainly, successfully achieving sales and marketing alignment has been a top challenge for brands for ages. But B2B marketers can be the change agents here, as Shahid Javed of Hughes Network Systems shared during his B2BMX session. “Marketing is a service provider to sales—sales is our customer. We need to be able to empower them and enable them to solve problems. We need to make them the hero in the buyer’s eyes.” [bctt tweet="Sales is our customer. We need to be able to empower them and enable them to solve problems. @shahidj #SalesAndMarketingAlignment" username="toprank"] For a framework to actualize sales and marketing alignment, you might start with this three-phase approach from Shahid:

Listening and Information Gathering (Engaging stakeholders and simply listening to what they have to say.)

Finding the Sweet Spot (Analyzing your data to create a mutually beneficial plan that can bring everyone together—and get C-suite buy-in.)

Empowering Execution (Making it easy for the sales team to get the marketing and sales collateral they need to be the hero for their customers.)

3. Sales Teams Are Driving Account Selection

When asked how they build and formulate their targeted account lists for ABM, a whopping 80% of respondents said this directive is led by the sales team. Here were the other responses in the report:

Firmographic: 68% currently using, 22% plan to use

Technographic: 35% currently using, 40% plan to use

Behavioral/Intent Signals: 55% currently using, 13% plan to use

Predictive: 26% currently using, 39% plan to use

It obviously makes a ton of sense for sales to be heavily involved with account selection – they know first-hand which types of accounts are easiest to work with and most likely to convert – but there is a clear opportunity for marketing to play a bigger role here, perhaps by taking charge with some of the other methods listed. Technographics (the analysis of potential accounts based on their current technology stacks) appears to be viewed as most promising.  As Ty Heath framed account selection during her talk on combining ABM and social selling at MPB2B: “It boils down to, what accounts do you think will be profitable long-term, will be pleasurable to work with, and do you think you can make a real difference for?” Several voices ought to be involved in reaching these conclusions. [bctt tweet="It boils down to, what accounts do you think will be profitable long-term, will be pleasurable to work with, and do you think you can make a real difference for. @tyrona #ABM #SocialSelling" username="toprank"]

4. B2B Influencers Aren’t Yet Being Widely Integrated

Speaking of clear opportunities, I was stunned by the graph below. Among six types of content and experiences listed for ABM usage, influencer advocate-related content was last in prevalence at only 29%.  (Source: 2019 ABM Benchmark Survey Report) As I wrote earlier this year, B2B influencers and ABM are a powerful combination. The focused nature of account-based strategies lends itself well to collaborating with subject matter experts who are visible to, and trusted by, the prospects you most want to engage. When you know specifically who you’re trying to reach, you can confidently identify niche influencers that your audience is likely to recognize and listen to. Research shows that people are more likely to trust technical experts and peers in their field than brand-driven messaging.  Seeing this synergy and opportunity, I’m excited for our team at TopRank Marketing to keep expanding our world-class influencer capabilities in the ABM space specifically. 

5. Quantity Is the Primary Measurement Focus for ABM

How are B2B marketing executives measuring the success of their ABM programs? Here’s how the responses shook out:

Net-new accounts engaged (60%)

Number of qualified accounts (52%)

Contribution to pipeline revenue (50%)

Win rate (50%)

Pipeline velocity (46%)

Account engagement score (41%)

It comes as no surprise that bottom-line numbers are being prioritized over relative rate metrics. Business leaders want to see results, and considering that 69% of respondents in the survey report that their account-based efforts are meeting or exceeding expectations, it seems those results are there.

Find Your Perfect Fit with ABM

Buzzwords aside, account-based marketing is a very simple and natural evolution for B2B marketing. Whether or not you want to attach the label, virtually every business that markets to other businesses should be adhering to many of ABM’s core principles. Looking to learn more about ABM and its fundamentals? Check out this primer from our own Josh Nite: What You Need to Know to Get Started with Account-Based Marketing.

The post 5 Key ABM Trends for B2B Marketers to Track Heading into 2020 appeared first on Online Marketing Blog - TopRank®.

5 Key ABM Trends for B2B Marketers to Track Heading into 2020 published first on yhttps://improfitninja.blogspot.com/

[ntrending]

What to know about the new Samsung Galaxy Note10 and Note10+

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What to know about the new Samsung Galaxy Note10 and Note10+

The Note10 and its stylus, the S Pen. (Samsung/)

Earlier this year when Samsung released the latest version of its flagship Galaxy S phone, the S10, it actually unveiled four different models of the device. They ranged from the smaller S10e to the bigger S10 5G handset.

The company is continuing that multiple-phone-size theme for the first time in the Note line, by announcing two new Galaxy Note devices today. You’ll remember that the Note handsets are the phones Samsung recalled back in 2016 and then brought back in 2017 with the Note8. Now we’re onto the Note10. For the uninitiated, the most noticeable design difference between a Samsung Note phone and the Galaxy S phones is that the Notes have a stylus, called the S Pen, that’s housed within the device like a train parked in a tunnel.

Here are the top line features on the new Note10.

There are two models

Samsung is releasing two different models, the Note10 and Note10+. As you might imagine, the 10+ is the bigger of the two siblings. The Note10’s display is 6.3 inches across, and the 10+’s is 6.8 inches, which makes it the biggest Samsung phone and larger than any of the iPhone options. If you’re a Note user who likes wielding the S pen to make notes or doodles with, then the 10+ model will give you a bigger canvas to jot down your thoughts.

The Note10 has about the same size display as the screen on Note9, but the size of the Note10’s body has actually gotten a little smaller and thinner than the 9’s frame.

Both models start at 256 GB of storage, but with the larger one, you can also grab one with about half a terabyte—512 GB. The 10+ will also come in a 5G-enabled version. Both run off the same processor, a Snapdragon 855, but the battery on the bigger one is, not surprisingly, larger. Samsung says the Note10’s silicon, such as the CPU, will run faster than the previous-gen device.

Handwriting recognition

Last year’s Note packed in a new feature: using artificial intelligence onboard the smartphone to recognize what kind of scene you’re shooting (like food at brunch) and then customize the camera settings to ideally do justice to the French toast in front of you. This year, they’re using AI to do something different: recognize your handwriting and convert it to text.

Samsung has offered this before, but the company says that it works better now. Company representatives said that they’re using a new algorithm that they trained on over a hundred thousand handwriting samples to learn that a written “7” scratched in your handwriting becomes a “7” in text. (Training machine learning algorithms on raw data to get good at a task, like handwriting or image recognition, is a very common AI strategy.)

After you make a note with the stylus, it takes a couple steps to convert it to a text document, including Microsoft Word. When I tried it, it rendered “This is the Samsung Note 10+” as “This is the samsung Nite 10+,” but then again, my handwriting is pretty bad. Note10 users trying this feature out will likely quickly learn how carefully they need to write for the company’s algorithm to pick up their chicken scratch correctly.

The Note10 phones offer handwriting-to-text conversion courtesy of AI. Let’s hope your handwriting is better than this. (Rob Verger/)

Other features

Last year’s Note had two cameras on the back. The Note10 has three—an ultra-wide, a wide-angle, and a telephoto. That’s a similar set-up to what’s on the Galaxy S10. The front “selfie” camera is now 10 megapixels and positioned in the center of the top of the device.

The company also says they’ve made improvements to the way the device shoots video. One new tweak will allow the camera to use its microphones to zoom in on a specific scene you’re recording. For example, if you’re trying to capture a street musician, the device should be able to gather the sound of their music instead of the sidewalk chatter next to you. You can also add blur to video footage like you can with portrait-mode photos. And the S Pen now offers more in the way of camera controls via gesture, so you can hold the stylus in your hand and wirelessly perform functions like zooming and starting a recording.

Samsung has also made changes in how you can use your phone in conjunction with a PC. If you’re running a PC with Windows 10, you can log into your Microsoft account on both the computer and Note10. Data like text messages and photos will sync. For gamers, a system called “Play Galaxy Link” will let people run games from their computer on their Note10. And since the Note line has a reputation for being a good gadget for gamers, Samsung says it has created what it calls the “world’s slimmest vapor chamber.” That chamber helps cool the phone to try to keep it from heating up when you play games like Fortnite. The device will also us AI to try to boost the device’s gaming performance as it learns from you, Samsung says.

Oh, and it lacks one feature that another smartphone-maker famously removed in 2016: a traditional 3.5mm headphone jack. Instead, you’ll need to plug headphones into the USB-C portal in the Note10. The device will include headphones with that USB-C format in the box.

The phones go on sale for pre-orders on August 8, and actually will be in stores on August 23. Like many fancy smartphones these days, they’re expensive: the Note10 starts at $950, and the 10+ at $1,100.

Written By Rob Verger