#i will say for once after a while am excited for idle's album though

[cigaretteparfum]

anw i haven't really listened to I Feel except for Allergy and Queencard but both gave me this ... vague feeling of 2010s a-pop?? esp Allergy with its "eugh am so insecure why can't i be like everybody else" theming. i've never really been a pure pop aficionado though so not really sure, but i feel (lol) like there was an era of american pop where a lot of the songs talked about exactly that, prolly before it segued into Trainor's All About That Base that then kicked off the bodypos self-love pop era???? idk am just saying i get the sense that I Feel (or at least these two songs) doing an homage/throwback kinda thing.

[raleighcarrera]

falling

platinum | raleigh carrera x mc (cadence dorian)

a little while ago i posted about the idea of a soulmate au where the first words raleigh & cadence say to each other are tattooed on them their whole lives, and this... is that. (for @platinumweekend ❤️)

tags: @choicesarehard ; @empressazura; @emomoustache ; @natesewell ; @zigtheeortega ; @pixeljazzy ; @brycemaloliver ; @grigori-girl ; @dulceghernandez ; @bitchloveskcbaseball ; @withbeautyandrage 

~10.5k words | T

i.

the words appear in looping script on his thirteenth birthday, right on time. they curve along the inside of his bicep, innocently punctuated. what’s your name?

“you got lucky,” one of his older cousins tells him, later, when everyone in his family comes by for cake and to ooh and aah over his new tattoo, “you’ll be able to hide that with a shirt or a jacket easily.”

but raleigh sleeps shirtless every night for the next two years, even when it’s cold, so that the words are the last thing he sees with his head pillowed on his arm before he falls asleep, dreaming of the nameless, faceless person who will one day say them, wondering what their voice might sound like when they do.

ii.

she has a more difficult go of it.

being a thirteen year old girl would be miserable enough without the added pressure of the words that practically feel broadcast across her forehead, most of the time. everyone at school teases her constantly and ruthlessly: say something funny, cadence. go on. tell us a joke!

so it’s difficult not to resent the two words scrawled lazily across her collarbone and the person attached to them, especially in the mornings before school when she’s angrily rearranging her neckline and jewelry in the mirror while the bus idles outside.

very funny. she isn’t, really. she’s plenty of things -- determined and passionate and sensitive, definitely, but... no one’s ever found her particularly funny, before.

and no one seems to understand just how much the expectation of having to be funny, one day, is weighing on her, not even her parents, when she finally works up the courage to squeak out, “but how am i supposed to know what i should say?”

her mom laughs indulgently, like she’s already said something funny. her stomach sinks further.

“oh, sweetheart,” she tells her, “don’t worry, it won’t matter. you just will.”

iii.

people ask him about it. a lot.

it gets difficult to keep it a secret as things change around him, but raleigh’s careful to avoid slip-ups and paparazzi photos and he doesn’t say a word about it in interviews, even when he’s asked directly. he’s never seen without short sleeves on, at the very least, and he doesn’t even tell blair and cameron about it.

he sort of wishes he had, though, because as his life turns upside down and he adapts to a new country with a new set of rules and an industry that makes his head spin most of the time it starts to feel more and more confusing, those three words -- what’s your name?

everywhere he goes, thousands of girls blocking the street scream it at him. so how is it possible that whoever’s waiting to meet him doesn’t already know it?

and what does that mean for how the rest of his life is going to turn out? 

what if all of this -- the fame and the money and the notoriety -- is fleeting, and he’s only a few short years from being completely washed up and irrelevant? what if the day he’s meant to meet his person is so far away that he’ll be completely out of the spotlight, by then, with sunset skatepark playing reunion tours and him having spent most of his life alone?

it’s a lot of pressure, for someone who’s already working their way through such a serious adjustment, and most of the time it’s dizzying, thinking about the fact that there’s someone out there who’s supposed to be perfect for him, when everyone he meets seems determined to forget every word they know other than yes, so they can suck up to him as much as possible.

his teenage years fly by in a whirlwind of mistakes and regrets. there’s things he would’ve never dreamed would come his way, like world tours and more money than he can count and so many girls who know everything about him before they even sit down to dinner, but there’s more than that, too.

there’s all the ways the industry weakens his trust until it’s gone, all the people who try to use him for what he can do for them, all the times he stumbles until he finally learns to distance himself by cultivating a persona, by leaning into all the expectations of raleigh carrera and creating something so outlandish it doesn’t hurt as much when disaster follows him around because it’s supposed to.

he watches everything that surrounds him turn fake and plastic and puts his energy only into his music, coasting on the rest. the days are less exciting than when he first joined the band at fifteen; he’s a solo artist, now, and most of the time, he’s just trying to get through.

but chaos continues to follow him and eventually his notoriety is inescapable. his first solo album is self-titled and he somehow manages to get a trademark on the word raleigh, as if the name is now more his than anything that ever belonged to the state of north carolina, and part of him sort of expects the words stamped on his arm to change, once he hits one-hundred million followers on his social channels.

they never do, though, and when he’s alone, and the veneer he’s built up for everyone else fades away, he can’t help but to be fascinated by this person who just wants an answer to the question no one else would ever dare ask him.

iv.

college isn’t exactly the fresh start she was hoping it’d be.

she was a loser in high school and things don’t get much better for her even now that she’s with ‘her people’ at a performing arts university she can barely afford, even with two part-time jobs. 

shane is across the country at a proper state school with parties and a social life and lots of friends who aren’t her, and she’s failing her improv class, proving that she isn’t actually very funny at all. 

boys continue to not notice her and patrons in bars continue to turn away from her one-woman performance, her old acoustic guitar the only constant in a life that feels utterly, unbelievably pointless, most of the time.

it’s like she’s drifting through the days, putting her time in at college in the hopes that it’ll fortify her for what’s next -- her big break, the discovery that’ll get her out of that shitty small town she’s been trying to escape her entire life. she writes hundreds of songs about how lost she feels and hates every single one, dreaming of a time when things might be different and she doesn’t have to second-guess every single one of her decisions.

she doesn’t have much of a love life and tries not to think about that, either.

the person on the other side of those two words stuck on her collarbone is probably looking for someone self-confident, who knows who they are and is comfortable with that. they’re probably expecting to meet someone who has their life together, who, at the very least, has a plan.

they’re probably not expecting a talentless nobody screwup like her, someone who tries as hard as she can yet never seems to make anything work.

things don’t turn around after graduation, either. sure, she manages to find an apartment in a building that’s nice enough and uses the last of her savings on the deposit and trying to furnish it, but it’s only a few weeks of trying and failing to secure a regular paying gig performing before she’s back at smoothie star again, begging for her old job back.

and there’s nothing that makes her feel more like a failure than working the same shifts she had in high school. 

as she hums along to the radio on a random tuesday afternoon when the store is dead and there’s nothing to blend, she wonders what mr.-or-mrs. very funny would think if they walked in and saw her here -- twenty-three years old and flat broke, with a dead-end job and a one-bedroom apartment all she has to show for her very expensive and very useless bachelor’s degree.

that, and a notebook full of half-finished songs about relationships she could only ever dream about and an escape from the miserable small town she lives in that feels farther away with every day that passes.

she can’t imagine they’d be very impressed.

v.

raleigh’s life gets monotonous very quickly. the music takes a backseat to the scandals and for a while there’s a predictable pattern of cause trouble, clean up image, rinse and repeat.

there are girls in between the cycles to help him pass the time. some he likes well enough and some he despises, but for the most part his management gives their recommendations and he agrees and makes awkward conversation for an hour or two over brunch until it’s time to go trash something again.

things get particularly bad after one minor cruise ship hijacking incident. 

but in his defense, no one ever told him that breaking into the harbor and joy riding was a first-degree felony, worsened by the fact that he’d just so happened to crash the boat into the pier while he was trying to dock it. 

at least he’d been sober.

though a monumental fuck up like this felt sort of inevitable; everyone who knew him probably figured it was only a matter of time before he went too far. how could he not when he was always chasing the next high?

still, the image rehab tour that follows is far from what he’d call enjoyable. he has to cut off all his hair and play nice at industry parties and waste time standing around being seen at charity events he winds up just cutting checks for instead of helping out at.

on top of the miserable community service comes the pr bullshit his team so loves -- dozens of tv appearances back-to-back where he’s herded around all day like cattle, in and out of green rooms with crappy coffee and bad catering.

he has no idea that showing up to be a judge on one in a million is going to change his life. hungover and running late, he barely even makes it to the taping of the semi-finals, slinking inside the concert hall in middle-of-nowhere, usa with a headache and some choice words for whoever thought this was the best way to clean up his image.

fortunately, raleigh manages to make his way inside virtually unnoticed. his phone is buzzing angrily in his pocket -- undoubtedly his manager trying to encourage him to hair and makeup or some other absurdity -- but he ignores it in favor of ducking back behind the line near the auditorium doors, only barely catching the last few words of some catty confrontation between two contestants as he goes.

as one of the girls stomps away, he sees the other’s shoulders slump from behind. “guess i’m not making any friends,” she mutters.

it’s clearly said to no one -- not even to herself, really -- yet for some reason, he can’t stop himself from responding. “where i come from, that’s a good thing.”

the girl’s shoulders straighten, but she still doesn’t turn around. “i’m not trying to succeed at the cost of others.”

raleigh smirks, leaning back against the wall beside his guitar case. “you do realize you’re at a competition show, right?”

“of course, but...” her hair ruffles with what sounds like a huff. she’s still not facing him, staring off at where the other girl she’d been talking to had run away. “that doesn’t mean i’m not rooting for everyone here to share their music with the world.”

“what a sweet sentiment,” raleigh drawls sarcastically, almost feeling a little bad for her and her naivety. this poor girl is going to be eaten alive. “it won’t last.”

her body tenses, her shoulders tightening again. he can almost see smoke start to pour from her ears before she spins suddenly on her heel to face him. 

whatever sharp retort had been on the tip of her tongue gets swallowed with a blink as soon as their eyes meet. something like electricity crackles in the space between them, strengthening the invisible pull he’d felt when he first stopped behind her. instead, she only asks, “what’s your name?”

vi.

the man in front of her snorts. “very funny.”

a smile tugs at her lips. “very funny, that’s a weird name.” this is unlike her -- the quick comeback, the flirting. usually being face-to-face with a guy as good looking as the one talking to her now made her want to wither away and die, but something about the stranger standing before her sets her instantly at ease. “so, are you gonna tell me, or not?”

now it’s his turn to blink at her. a hand lifts to rub at his jaw. “huh. you really don’t know who i am, do you?”

cadence’s eyes narrow as she assess him. there is something vaguely familiar about that crooked grin, she’s sure of it. 

at the very least, it’s an excuse to stare at him, and she does, moving her eyes slowly over the tattoos poking out over his jacket collar, the line of stubble on his sharp jaw, the glint of mischief in his eyes.

her helpless gaping is interrupted by a sudden shrill scream. “oh. my. god! is that raleigh carrera?!”

everything clicks at once. as a wild group of girls corner him, she realizes where she’s seen that smile before -- on just about every tabloid cover known to man, plastered all over convenience stores and the internet with headlines about his latest bender. in fact, she’s pretty sure he was just in the news for something similar -- crashing a yacht or something else ridiculous like that, something that only someone as rich as raleigh carrera could have accomplished. 

then she realizes what he’d said to her, as soon as she’d turned to look him in the eyes. very funny. 

her heart stops. all she can do is stare wide-eyed at him as he dispels the girls clamoring for a selfie, snapping back to the present when he waves one large hand in front of her face. 

“sorry -- what?”

“i said, what’s your name? it only seems fair, now that you know mine, and all.”

“cadence,” she answers numbly, “i’m -- um, i’m used to your hair being longer.”

“cadence,” raleigh repeats, smiling at her, “so you do know who i am.”

“what do the magazines call you again? r&b’s time bomb? puerto rico’s hottest export? you’re kind of notorious.” she blinks at him, then admits, “i’ve heard your songs.”

“seen the tabloid covers too, eh?” the expression on his face suggests he’s almost proud of them.

this is surreal.

“didn’t you crash a yacht or something?” she asks, brain whirring into overdrive as she tries to process what’s happening. he doesn’t seem to have realized it yet, which gives her a moment to gather her thoughts, something that feels impossible when she can’t push the way he’d scoffed very funny out of her mind. 

“or something. insurance paid out a couple million in property damage, but...” raleigh trails off, brow suddenly furrowing. he stares at her silently for a beat too long, then slowly turns a dull red. “hey, what’d you say earlier, again?”

cadence wets her dry lips, trying not to panic. stay calm, she silently coaches herself. raleigh carrera is not your long-awaited soulmate and you are not doing this in line to audition for one in a million. “i said -- what’s your name? and then you said...”

oh god, this is happening. her teeth dig into her bottom lip as she fidgets with the neckline of her top, tugging it to the side so raleigh can see the two words on her collarbone. 

“very funny,” he mutters, “oh, jesus fucking christ. you can’t be serious.”

“me?” she demands, “you’re the one who --”

“next up,” calls a voice suddenly, cutting sharply through their argument, “contestant #9,276.”

her blood runs cold as she realizes that’s the number she’s wearing pinned to her shirt. she can feel herself start to sweat; how the fuck is she supposed to perform like this? she wants to throw up. why did this have to happen to her now? this was her shot -- her one fucking chance --

“hey, easy.” there’s suddenly two strong hands on either side of her shoulders, and she startles as raleigh stares at her from up close, closer than he was just a moment ago. “relax, okay? you’re gonna be fine. you’ve got this.”

“but --” she starts, then realizes her mind is racing too quickly to even articulate what she wants to say. she settles for shaking her head, eyes wide and panicked. “i can’t just -- oh my god, i’m going to throw up.”

“here,” raleigh directs, “take my guitar. prince gave it to me as a birthday present.”

prince?! she mouths hysterically to herself, as he flips the latch on his case open and pulls out the instrument. “how is this supposed to help me?”

“just trust me,” he says, giving her a gentle nudge towards the auditorium, “now go.”

she does, stumbling forward with the most expensive piece of equipment she’s ever held in her hands in her life alongside her, drawing in a deep breath as she makes her way onto the stage.

she can do this.

everything else will have to come after.

vii.

the thing is -- she’s talented. exceptionally so. 

he can tell she’s a little nervous, but maybe that’s just because he’s used to looking out for that sort of thing; he could probably recognize it more easily than the average person would. it probably has nothing to do with who they are, how he notices the nuances in her body language...

her belt is impressive. her voice is stunning, clear and uniquely melodic. his guitar looks spectacular in her hands, and cadence plays it like she’s been practicing on it her entire life. 

he tries his best to look nonchalant, feet kicked up onto the seat in front of him, but when she locks eyes with him from the stage he knows he hasn’t succeeded. raleigh’s breath catches, and he stares back at her, transfixed by the way her dainty hands cradle the neck of the guitar and strum the strings, how her lips purse around the long, emotional high note at the end of the song’s chorus.

she’s really very pretty. 

he’d probably be lying to himself if he said it doesn’t make him a little bit jealous and uncomfortable, watching how she and avery fawn over each other when she’s finished. he’s probably a much better suited match for her, clean cut and pristine as he is. 

he wonders if she’s disappointed that it’s him -- that it’s now, when she’s clearly on the cusp of something great all on her own.

it’s a lot to think about, and so he dips out of the auditorium before she finishes up, rushing outside with his heart pounding. it’s not until he’s halfway through the crumpled pack of cigarettes in his jacket pocket that raleigh starts to relax even an iota, and of course that’s when the stage door he’d left propped swings open wide and cadence’s sneakers hit the asphalt beside his boots.

“uh, you can’t just leave me with this thing,” she says, apropos of nothing, and as he stares at her he realizes she’s talking about his guitar, which she’s holding in one hand like it’s a dead fish. “this costs more than everything in my apartment combined, i’m sure.”

he shakes his head at her, laughing as his fingers flick ash from the cigarette he’s holding. “no way -- you should keep it. you two looked perfect together.”

she hesitates, looking down at the instrument again. he can see in her eyes that she’s torn; it’s obvious she knows the right thing to do is to refuse a generous gift from a stranger, but she wants to keep it, and already his mind is racing as he considers what else he could give her that would excite her like that -- a private flight, a tour of his penthouse, a million dollars. 

“are you sure?” cadence asks, without looking at him, and the hesitancy in her voice makes him realize how unsure she really is. she’s the one who’s wondering if he’s disappointed in her.

he licks his suddenly dry lips and drops what’s left of his cigarette to the ground, finding he doesn’t actually need the rest of it, anymore. “positive.”

viii.

they don’t actually get to spend a lot of time together, while she’s filming. she has to focus and it seems like she’s always busy, somehow -- not that she sees raleigh very often in the first place.

the days are spent rehearsing with avery and cramming in as much mentoring as possible, and when she can pull herself away from fiona’s lessons on image to get home at a reasonable hour she collapses into bed pretty much immediately, out like a light from the whirlwind of the day and hardly even aware enough to dream.

but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t think about him. she does, especially on the rare occasions she manages to catch a glimpse of raleigh walking around in the studio, or on one memorable evening she stays late in the auditorium to bang on the piano keys of the beautiful, enviable baby grand on set and startles to find him leaning in the doorway, watching her play.

it’s all a blur and wildly difficult to process; just when she thinks she has a grip on things she remembers the private moments she’s had with raleigh and her emotions tumble to pieces again as she lets the weight of the implications of what’s going on between them crush her completely.

one moment sticks out on her as being particularly worrisome, insofar as how it bodes for the rest of her life. 

it feels like something significant from the moment raleigh offers to help her warm up; they’ve hardly had a moment alone together in days and she still has absolutely no idea how she’s supposed to talk to him or what she should say, but for some reason the conversation flows easily and she hardly has to think about the (no doubt incredibly stupid-sounding) words coming out of her mouth.

“you’re going to kill it,” raleigh says finally, once they’ve worked through all the exercises in his arsenal, “you really don’t need my help.”

never in her wildest dreams did she ever imagine someone like him would say something like that to her. “you think?”

“i know it,” he answers confidently, shrugging his shoulders like it’s that simple. “and you should, too.”

there’s a moment of silence where they just stand there staring at each other, ignoring the restless murmuring of the crowd outside that’s waiting for him to slip into his seat at the judge’s table. she’s effortlessly lost in raleigh’s eyes, so fixated on the intensity of his gaze that she doesn’t realize he’s leaning in closer until it’s too late.

“insurance policy,” he mutters, before he kisses her, hands cupping her face gently. 

for a split second, she stands frozen, shocked totally still. then, her brain reboots enough to propel her into motion, and cadence gets with the program enough to wind her arms around raleigh’s waist and pull him closer and kiss him back, until her heart’s lurched up into the throat she’d just been warming up, pounding relentlessly.

they make out until the roar of the crowd is deafening -- until it’s impossible not to acknowledge it any longer. 

of course raleigh’s a life-ruiningly good kisser. why wouldn’t he be? why should any of this be easy?

it’s only a few simple touches, but raleigh’s mouth leaves her dizzy and lightheaded when she’s supposed to be concentrating on performing, and, independently of the way she’s blinking at him in stupid shock, cadence already knows she’ll never be able to kiss anyone else ever again without thinking about him.

“i have to get out there,” she gasps between desperate presses of their lips against each other, grasping ineffectively at his clothes while his fingers tug her hair out of shape.

“be late,” he suggests, “it always works for me.” 

but she’s not him. she’s not like him -- they have nothing in common. they come from different worlds; they’re two completely opposite people.

and yet every minute with raleigh is like coming up for air after being underwater for years, like the knots of guilt and shame and awkward embarrassment she’s carried around for her entire life without understanding why she has them are slowly starting to undo themselves, unlaced by his careful fingers.

they make it out there. eventually.

before she knows it, confetti’s raining down from the ceiling and falling all over her, and she locks eyes with raleigh from across the room to find his lips pulled into a genuinely affectionate grin -- lips that she’d just kissed for the first time a fucking hour ago and, seriously, what is her life now -- his eyes bright and excited. 

things just keep getting weirder and weirder, but the way they’re beaming at each other like idiots in a room full of thousands, broadcast on national television, too, makes her think things might be pretty great, too.

ix.

it sort of takes them a long time to getting around to talking about it -- the soulmate thing.

it’s not that he doesn’t try. he does, but she’s got a lot going on, these days: a big move and a new record deal and days filled with songwriting and nights out being seen. he’s still on his image cleanup tour, while she’s at it, so his fake smile stays fixed on his face throughout another boring week of restaurant openings and charity events and talkshow appearances before he finally gets the chance to spend some time with her again.

they text here and there, but nothing pans out until the stars align and they manage to slip out of the back door of a nightclub unnoticed together after a night of dancing too close for the comfort of her publicist while avery and the others cause a commotion at the front entrance to distract the press.

she goes back to his penthouse with him. he can’t remember the last time he brought a girl back to his apartment just to talk, and especially not one who spent the better part of the evening in a sparkly minidress grinding against him. 

but here they are.

“so -- how’s the city treating you?” raleigh asks, pouring them both a drink he doesn’t want from the bar cart in the corner of the room for something to do with his hands.

cadence shrugs from where she’s perched on the edge of his sofa, tugging at the hem of her dress. “good, i guess. it’s honestly all kind of overwhelming.”

“yeah,” he nods, passing her one of the glasses in his hands and taking a seat on the ottoman in front of her, close enough to see her face in perfect clarity but still maintaining a distance that he hopes is respectful. “i know what you mean. when i first came here after joining sunset skatepark everything felt so... huge.”

“totally,” cadence answers quickly, nodding in a way that’s almost aggressive. “i mean, there’s so much pressure to deliver an album right away, but i want it to be perfect, and the studio is so different from, like, writing songs in my room at home, and i... i guess i feel kind of homesick, but -- not for my hometown. i hated that place.” there’s hesitancy in her gaze when she asks, “do you know what i mean?”

“yeah,” raleigh says again stupidly, because the truth is -- he knows exactly what she means. cadence has just articulated something he could never quite put into words better than he’d even thought the sentiments to himself. “it’s like... nostalgia for something you don’t even want.”

“exactly,” she breathes emphatically, and then they’re kissing again, and she’s in his lap on the ottoman and he definitely brought her here to talk, for sure, but is it really so terrible if they get a little sidetracked on the way to their destination?

well -- they wind up making out for hours. so, there’s that.

it’s not part of the plan but it’s a hell of a side quest, memorizing the shape and feel of her with his hands while her lips pull every last bit of breath from his lungs, until he’s lightheaded and dizzy in a way no other girl has ever made him, before. it’s to the point where when he finally finds it within himself to push her away, he’s uncharacteristically nervous -- something that’s never happened to him before, not even on the night he lost his virginity.

“i really did ask you over to talk,” he says, voice hoarse.

cadence licks her lips and then beams at him, eyes sparkling. “i know.” she shuffles delicately back onto the couch, lingering in his lap for only a moment before pulling away entirely. he stuffs his hands under his thighs to stop himself from reaching out for her again. “sorry i haven’t been around more.”

“you don’t have to apologize.” raleigh shakes his head. “i should be apologizing to you, i feel like... i should be the one who’s around, to help you with all of this. or at least -- i want to be. i don’t know if i’ll be any good at it.” 

he blinks, surprised by his own honesty. he hadn’t meant to say all of that, but the words came up before he was cognizant of them and now they’re out there, and there’s no taking them back -- especially with the way she’s looking at him, all soft and sweet and happy.

“well, you don’t have to be good at it,” cadence murmurs, reaching out for his wrists and tugging his hands free so she can interlock their fingers effortlessly. they fit together like puzzle pieces. “you just have to be you.”

x.

her budding relationship with one of the biggest names in r&b doesn’t have much time to bud at all before it’s rudely plucked from the plant and stepped on.

she finds herself blinking at fiona in confusion as the words take some time to process. “you want me to do what?”

xi.

raleigh balks at his manager, shaking his head emphatically. “no,” he spits out, “absolutely not.”

xii.

“cadence, it’s not a big deal,” fiona tells her, very nearly rolling her eyes. “everyone does it. you go on a few dates, play up the relationship for some photos, social media eats it up -- boom, you’re a star.”

“i don’t know,” she answers hesitantly, mind drifting back to the photographers that have already been following her around, screaming about avery when she ducks into the car with him. things with raleigh are... new, and complicated, and do they really need to add public scrutiny into the mix as well? “i just don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“it’s a great idea,” fiona sighs, shaking her head. “all our focus groups agree. the label thinks it’s best, what with your single taking so long to put out.” she opens her mouth to protest -- it’s not like she’s dragging her feet on purpose -- but barely has a second to get a word out before fiona continues, “besides, raleigh does this all the time.”

her teeth bite at her bottom lip uncertainly. “he does?”

“of course. chantal clearwater? she was a pictagram model when they met, and now she’s opening shows at paris fashion week. it’s just business.”

it’s not, though. it could never be just anything, for reasons no one else knows about except the two of them, for reasons she’ll never tell. “well... what did raleigh say about it?”

xiii.

“i said no, frank.” he’s annoyed, now, and his manager knows it, raleigh’s arms folded across his chest and his eyes set into a glare. “n. o. no.”

“and i hear you, but is it really the end of the world? she’s exactly what we’re going for, and i know you already get along --”

“which is exactly why i don’t want to do this. so pick someone else. anyone else.” he’s not going to let his label turn her into one of the girls he has to be seen with for fake photos and mutually beneficial positive press. 

for so many years, he’s watched people fake feelings and use each other -- willingly participated in the using himself, too, more times than he can count. he never cared about any of it before.

but being with cadence doesn’t feel fake, and he doesn’t ever want it to. and he knows that if he agrees to this, everything he enjoys about spending time with her will disappear in favor of the ugly, plastic decay that’s eaten away at so many of his personal and professional relationships before. organic, genuine time with her will become strolls near celebrity hotspots, angling just right to help the cameras get the perfect shot. he’ll show up to support her at shows because her publicist called him, and their time together will become some manufactured narrative meant to push their labels’ agenda, until six months down the line they don’t even recognize themselves or what might’ve been if they’d done things a different way.

“look, there isn’t anyone else. her team’s already agreed to it, and i’ve got brunch set up for sunday. all you have to do is play nice for two fucking months, raleigh. is that so impossible for you?”

yes. already he feels a deep-seated desire to go somewhere and break something, to tear through the flower beds in central park with his motorcycle and wink at the cameras when they catch up to him.

instead, he storms out of the office he’s in, and into the sunlight, tugging the hood on his jacket up and melting into the crowd on the corner so he can be as anonymous as possible when he picks up his phone and calls cadence.

“hey raleigh,” she chirps as soon as she picks up, sounding far too cheerful for someone who’s likely had an equally as miserable early morning meeting on a friday. “guessing you heard the news?”

“can’t i just call you to say hi?” he grumbles, ducking his head as he strolls through the intersection with the mob of people crowded along fifth ave, turning down the next side street so he’s alone again, with no one following, just like that. 

“well, you can,” she teases, and some of the anger he’s carrying around with him fades, dissipating into nothing and evaporating like smoke. “but you’re not.”

“no, i’m not,” he agrees with a sigh, shaking his head. “you sound surprisingly cool with it, though.”

“should i not be?” cadence laughs, but he can detect a thread of nervousness in her tone. “i already want to hang out with you. we have the same friends and work in the same industry. we’re... probably going to go on dates anyway, so... how hard can this be?”

god. she has absolutely no idea. part of him thinks it’d be cruel to burst her bubble, but he should warn her, shouldn’t he? 

she sounds so optimistic about it, though. it’s hard to feel anything but hopeful when her voice turns up like that at the end. in the back of his mind, there’s a voice that’s not his suggesting maybe this time, things will be different. 

surely he knows better than to think something as ridiculous as that, though, right? 

“well, i guess it’ll be interesting, at least,” he muses, slowing his steps by the entrance to the subway. 

he’s going to lose his signal just as soon as he heads underground, and he’s not quite ready for that, yet.

xiv.

time with raleigh flies by. 

it doesn’t feel like they’re fake-dating -- they do everything she hopes he’d want to do with her anyway, like go out to eat at fancy restaurants and take walks through the park and bounce melodies for songs off of each other, facetiming late at night from their apartments or on the days he visits her and micah in the studio. 

he’s by her side for the release of her first single, and her first music video, and through it all, raleigh plays the role of the doting partner perfectly, holding her purse on the red carpet and feeding her paella at a strategically-placed outdoor table and fetching her coffee order when she’s too busy to stop writing for even just five minutes.

in the blink of an eye, it’s time to put out her album -- just like that. 

raleigh’s perfectly charming through that process, too. he shows up on time, says all the right things, and keeps a drink in her hand all evening long, so that when she’s finally done making the rounds and can enjoy herself after the entertainment and the networking and the schmoozing she’s giggly and touchy, doing her best to steal him away from the crowd.

“what were your other relationships like?” she asks, half expecting him to brush her off, though he’s always indulged her before. they’ve never really gotten this personal. “fake or... otherwise.”

“they’ve all been fake,” he shrugs, “and i can say with confidence that you’re the best one i’ve ever had.”

“really?” cadence smiles, chin propped up on her hand as she leans over the bar. “be honest. what did you really think, when you realized it was me?”

“what?” he asks, pushing the empty rocks glass in his hands around on the bar top, “you mean this thing?” he gestures at his arm, covered in expensive, custom tom ford, and the tattoo laying innocently beneath it.

“uh huh,” she confirms, “‘cause i was totally like oh shit.”

raleigh laughs, loud and wild, the sound swallowed up by the noise of the party around them. no one nearby is paying them even an ounce of attention, and it’s fun, to be anonymous at her own party, invisible to everyone in the room except for him. “i can imagine. i wouldn’t want to be stuck with me either.”

cadence shakes her head -- that’s not what she’d meant. but before she can protest, he rolls his glass between his palms and thoughtfully continues, “i guess i was a little surprised. it felt like i’d been waiting forever to meet you, so part of me was like, fuck, we’re doing this now? and i never thought it’d be someone so...”

“boring?” she suggests, eyebrows arching when raleigh’s expression immediately twists into one of disagreement, his nose scrunching up with distaste.

“no,” he huffs, “so... good, i guess.” she stares at him as he reaches for one of the waiting tequila shots on the bar, pulling it away from the line he’d set up for the crowd he’d been with before she’d tugged him to the side to talk, leaving the drinks untouched. raleigh knocks the shot back -- no salt, no lime. he’s had twice as many drinks as she has, and she’s definitely feeling them -- she has no idea how he’s even still upright, no worse for wear other than a few slurred words here and there. “but you just are. it’s like every song i’ve ever written was about you, and i just didn’t know it yet.”

the noise of the party fades in favor of the pounding of her heart, loud like a kick drum in her ears. she bites her lip and stares at him, watching as raleigh shakes his head at himself, dazed. “you okay?” she asks quietly, leaning in a little across the bar. 

raleigh’s quiet for so long she has to wonder whether or not he actually heard her. just as she clears her throat and opens her mouth to repeat herself even louder, he nods, reaching across the bar and squeezing her hand before dragging her back over to the line of tequila shots waiting for them to enjoy.

the night is a blur after that, and there’s patches of the evening that are fuzzy in her memory the next morning, but she knows she’ll never forget the gentle kiss goodnight raleigh gives her when he helps her stumble into the car back to her apartment at dawn.

xv. 

things go really well, until they don’t. 

they have a blissful six months together with more fun than he’s ever had with anyone. slowly, he learns every single thing about cadence and returns her openness with honesty of his own -- honesty that feels strange and unfamiliar but weirdly thrilling, in a way, made easier every time one of his stories pulls a laugh or smile from her. 

it seems unnatural, having a honeymoon period that goes on for so long. in the entire time they’re dating, he doesn’t destroy a single thing -- doesn’t even want to, which is the weirdest part of it all. 

there are some moments that catch him completely off guard. more than a few times, he hardly even recognizes himself, she turns him into such a different person. 

he doesn’t hate it, though -- just the opposite, in fact. raleigh realizes he’s really starting to like the carefree, far from jaded person he is when he’s with her, though it only hits him for real when he’s watching her storm away from him on liberty island, eyes fixed on the angry sway of her hips.

he stews on it on the long ride back to his penthouse; the game had, admittedly, been starting to wear on him. but he’d gone along with it because it was supposed to benefit her -- he’d agreed to the stupid public breakup and following the rules and not seeing cadence in public for the foreseeable future because it was what she wanted, and -- frankly, it felt like a stupid fucking decision.

not that it lasts long. he starts texting her just as soon as he’s done washing electralite out of his hair and doesn’t make it more than twenty minutes when they first see each other again at the moda gala before he’s sneaking off with her, ducking under the velvet rope that demarcates the planetarium as ‘off limits’ with her hand tucked neatly in his.

“maybe this is better,” cadence muses between sips of her drink, her eyes on one of the stupid glass exhibits he couldn’t possibly care less about. “now we can just be together -- no pressure. our relationship is ours again.”

their relationship. is that what this is? they’ve spent a lot of time talking about who they are and what they like and don’t like, kissing and touching and holding hands. throughout it all, he’s done his best not to buy into the ‘soulmate’ bullshit too heavily, but over the last few months it’s been hard to deny that there’s a reason he was meant to meet her, that she’s been changing him from the inside out.

“what’s on your mind?” she asks, turning towards him with an open look of genuine curiosity on her face, like she really wants to know. 

“it’s nothing,” raleigh answers at first, reflexively, like he has so many times before. no one has ever really wanted to know. but cadence’s eyebrows arch, and she waits, patiently silent, and then the words tumble out of him. “it’s just that -- my whole life, i’ve watched other people use each other. so many people are just interested in the concept of celebrity status. so i played the game. never trusting anyone.” 

he shrugs. a hand lifts to rub his jaw, and he looks back to meet her gaze just in time to see the little smile playing at her lips, like she already knows what he’s about to say. “but it’s different, with you. you make me not want to be that person anymore. when i’m with you, it’s the only time i feel anything real.”

“raleigh,” she murmurs, her expression flickering before her face does something that cracks his chest wide open. her eyes go all shiny and sparkly and her cheeks crease with a grin, and the way she laughs is so ridiculously joyful the hand he has stuffed in his pocket curls into a fist to stop him from doing something stupid. “i feel the same way. i just... this whole thing, i know it doesn’t always -- work out, but... with you i really want it to. i’ve never felt this way before about anyone, and i think...” 

there’s a pause as her lips purse thoughtfully, and then she says the words that make it impossible for him to do anything but close the distance between them and kiss her over and over again: “i think even without this tattoo it’d be you, anytime, anywhere.”

xvi.

being raleigh carrera’s (real, confirmed, 100%-authentic) girlfriend feels almost too good to be true.

raleigh is... everything she never knew she wanted in a boyfriend, wrapped up into one tall, dark and handsome package, with a loud, goofy laugh and a deep, sexy voice that sends a shiver down her spine whenever his mouth so much as lingers near her ear for too long. 

it turns out that, despite their differing status in the industry and her initial assumptions that they came from two completely different worlds, they’re actually on the same page about pretty much everything. she finds that the pressure of the word she’d held in such high regard for so long -- soulmate -- disappears entirely where he’s concerned because being with raleigh is just fun. 

there’s motorcycle rides and boat trips and hours up late talking about everything and nothing; facetime calls with his mom and shopping trips where the stores are kept open late for them so they can shop alone, in an empty boutique, like every teen movie she’d ever watched growing up.

there’s late nights in the studio and either of their apartments where they both noodle around on their guitars and improvise half-hearted duets, content to just work in the same orbit as each other for as long as possible.

raleigh’s texting one night on the couch in her living room when she plucks out the melody to who i’ll be on her old acoustic, sitting on the floor in front of the tv.

he looks up before the first verse is over. “what’s that one? it sounds good.”

“oh -- just a song i wrote in college,” cadence hums, already downplaying it as she lifts her shoulder in a shrug. “i got stuck, never finished it. ellis made me sell the progress for some other writer to finish.”

he frowns, pushing up onto his elbow. his phone is tossed carelessly somewhere among the couch cushions. “why?”

“because i was taking too long with the odyssey,” she sighs. “it was kind of my only option. it’s weird, though -- thinking about someone singing something that was so personal to me.”

“play me what you had so far,” he says, and so she does, hesitating for only a second before strumming the chords, singing the lines she had slowly. 

when she’s done, she looks up to find that raleigh’s slid to the edge of the couch, elbows on his knees as he leans in as close as he can get with the coffee table in his way. “okay -- that was beautiful. you should finish it.”

she shakes her head, setting her guitar down. “i can’t. they already sold it. and even if i wanted to... i don’t know how it ends.”

raleigh’s legs spread in invitation and she stands to walk around to the couch, slipping into his lap and leaning back against his chest. his hands are tender as he rubs them across her shoulders, sliding up her back before one lifts to brush a lock of hair back behind her ear, his pointer finger pushing her glasses up her nose affectionately. “maybe one day you can write something else with the same theme,” he suggests, and she tries her best to smile even though it feels like a dream lost, somehow -- a ridiculous thought, given that she pretty much has everything she ever wanted, but the way she feels all the same.

“maybe,” she sighs, the kiss he drops to her forehead a bandaid on a wound that’s been doing its best to heal for what feels like her entire life.

xvii.

he’s never brought a date to the vinyls before. 

there’s been plenty of after parties he’s stumbled out of with a girl on his arm, sure, but cadence is the first person to sit by his side during the ceremony, and he’s surprised by how much he likes having her next to him.

then again, he’s self aware enough to realize he’d like being pretty much anywhere, with her.

still -- the awards are a lot less boring with her around to kiss and stroke his hair and make snide commentary about the rest of the attendees with, and when she squeezes his hand goodbye to rush backstage and get ready for her performance he misses her instantly.

what happens next makes him endlessly regretful of the fact that he’s not backstage with her.

he rushes around just as soon as he can, pushing his way through security and frantically scrambling technical assistants to find her exactly where he thought he might, between ellis knight and fiona, looking lost with her head in her hands.

she seems equal parts broken and pissed in a way that tugs at his heartstrings and makes him a little bit proud. raleigh shoves through the crowd to get to her and slips an arm around her waist. he’s only caught the tail end of the conversation they’re all having, but he knows enough to know that “you can’t bench her. that’s bull.”

ultimately, though, it doesn’t matter how much they stomp their feet. she’s under contract, their hands are tied, and he walks away seething at the unfairness of it all, this shitty industry that’s turned on her when all she ever wanted to do was make music.

she cries in the car back to her apartment to pack her things. there’s no way he’s letting her go home to iowa or idaho or indiana without him, and he barks at his team over the phone until they agree to move his appearances around so he can make that happen, his free hand clasped tightly in hers until he physically has to let her go so she can unlock her front door with trembling fingers.

cadence tosses clothes haphazardly onto the bed and he silently and precisely moves to folds each piece for her, until she gives up and sinks down onto the edge of the mattress, defeated. 

wide eyes filled with tears lock onto his, and he watches her bottom lip wobble before she says, “you really don’t have to do this. come with me, i mean. i know i messed up, and -- you have so much else going on. i don’t expect you to --”

“i’m coming,” he states firmly, setting the sweatpants in his hand down and stepping closer to her, sitting beside cadence on her bed. “what happened tonight was fucked up, cadence -- it shouldn’t have happened at all. i’m not going to let you go through this alone.”

“but --”

“but nothing,” he says, and before the words have even left his mouth she’s falling into his arms with a soft sound of gratitude, mashing her face into his chest as she sniffles.

“thank you,” cadence mumbles, sounding so unsure of herself it makes him wonder if she’s ever had anyone show up for her when it mattered most before, or if that’s yet another thing they unfortunately have in common. 

xviii.

raleigh tries his best to cheer her up, but it’s still hard, feeling like she’s let the entire world down. her fans. herself.

there’s something embarrassing about showing raleigh her apartment back home and the person she was before she met him -- all the places she felt most uncertain and where she experienced some her worst self-doubt, the room that still has the smoothie star apron hung up in the closet.

but there’s also something exciting, about being totally off the grid with him. no one knows they’re here and there’s no paparazzi waiting to snap photos of them -- especially given the fact that they don’t leave her building for the first three days she spends moping around while raleigh orders all the takeout he can get his hands on.

it sort of reminds her of when they first met, and there was nothing to do but learn about each other, though now there’s a familiarity to him she relies on, a unique raleigh-ness that feels more like home than this shitty apartment ever did.

still, she struggles, and the weight of the world doesn’t let up until zadie shows up with her fanmail and avery does his best to make her smile with a beach trip and some fancy new toys and a day in the sun with a drink in her hand.

eventually it’s just her and raleigh again, out by the fire after everyone else has gone to bed. her stomach is full of s’mores and her cheeks hurt from smiling for the first time in weeks, and it’s a shock when she realizes she feels content, even after everything that’s happened -- almost as though things will all work out for the better no matter what happens next.

“oh my god,” she gasps suddenly, cutting off what raleigh had been saying as her eyes light up and she hastens to stand. “i’ve gotta -- i need to -- oh my god.”

just like that, she knows how her song ends.

recording it is a process, but raleigh calls in some favors and gets them studio time and agrees to be featured on the song even though she knows he’s still working through a sound change that he feels unsure about.

but it means a lot to her, having him crammed in the booth at her side, singing into the same mic. they sound almost unbelievably good together, too, raleigh’s harmonies on the words that finally resolve that lost feeling she’s been harboring her entire life making something deep within her wriggle up happily, wagging its proverbial tail.

the fact that raleigh remains by her side throughout the entire fight with her label, the long nights of despair agonizing over what her next move is going to be and even the moment where they decide to break into indio, of all places, means more to her than she can ever say. she feels markedly less nervous about the entire thing every time she turns her head to the side and sees him, right there next to her -- right where he’s been this entire time -- smiling encouragingly and squeezing her hand hard in his.

though it’s not until they’re up at the top of the ferris wheel that she realizes how precious what she has really is. it’s not until he looks her dead in the eye and says, with that same soft earnestness he’s awarded her since they first met at the one in a million auditions that feel quite literally like a hundred years ago, “cadence, everything you want is on the other side of fear. and i want you to have everything you want,” that she truly understands that’s what between them is special and rare.

not because of any tattoos, or any preconceived destiny. not because of who they are and their status and the fact that people take pictures of them when they’re out in public together.

but because of this -- all these real moments of genuine connection they’ve been fortunate enough to share since fate threw them into each other’s paths.

“raleigh, i love you.” the words are said easily, not a moment’s hesitation behind them. 

just before she crosses over in the cart to kiss him until they’re both breathless, raleigh gifts her the brightest smile he has and says, “i love you, too.”

xix.

the night is a blur from the moment he first takes the stage with his old bandmates to when he finally finds himself alone with cadence in a rundown old motel a few miles out from the festival in the desert.

he can’t recall ever being so happy, so of course he doesn’t remember every agonizing detail of the evening, though he does know he doesn’t feel the need to have a single beer with cadence around, twirling barefoot in the grass and giggling when she leads him up to the room they’ve borrowed.

afterwards, when they’re sitting on the roof together in the blanket they dragged off the bed, he reflects on the wild year they’ve had with her in his arms, fingertips tracing the delicate very funny scrawled across cadence’s collarbone.

he feels... free. completely liberated. like there’s absolutely nothing and no one that can get to him, now, like he’s untouchable, like he doesn’t care about a single thing that happens after today and how perfect things have been. 

“i think i’m actually freer than i’ve ever been,” he muses, where his lips are pressed into her hair, “i can take my sound in any direction i want.”

“i’m so happy for you, raleigh,” cadence returns genuinely, tilting her head back so he can see her upside-down smile. 

his arms tighten around her. “i’m so excited for what you’re gonna be doing, too. i’m excited for us.”

“yeah,” she sighs, “who knows what’s next, right? now that ellis let me out of my deal...”

he can hear the thread of worry undercutting the words. he shakes his head, hands rubbing up and down her arms. “you can worry about that tomorrow. for tonight, just enjoy the comeback. what you did out there was amazing.”

“what we did,” she corrects, and he blinks up the stars as he realizes she’s right -- they’re a we now. he’s part of a we again, after being on his own for so long.

the phrases bounce around in his head, unfamiliar and foreign. me and my girlfriend, he thinks to himself, cadence and i. we’re going to be late. we’ll be away that weekend. we just started watching that show. we, we, we. 

“what we did was amazing,” raleigh amends, the words slow to come out but feeling right all the same. “whatever we do next will be amazing.”

“absolutely,” cadence confirms, with conviction, like it’s something she believes wholeheartedly.

and though he has no idea what to expect or what it might be, a large part of him is inclined to agree with her -- she’s been right about everything else so far.

xx.

one year later, she’s finishing a set in berlin, the last stop on a sprawling european tour that had taken she, avery, micah and raleigh across the continent for dozens of performances to sold-out crowds of thousands screaming her lyrics back to her. 

if her contract with overknight had been a dream come true, signing to wilshere records is heaven incarnate. cadence’s trip through the u.k. with her new label is proof enough, and the chance to meet new fans with new stories to share that she could connect with is one she’s taken to with enthusiasm, the experience made all the sweeter by the fact that her favorite people get to be by her side throughout it all.

berlin’s crowd is one of the best, and she fully expects to end the tour on a high note, head banging to the last few notes of ‘knockout’ before raleigh’s planned entrance for the last song of the night, so they can sing the duet that’s closed out every show they’ve had on the tour together. 

when he struts out with his guitar, waving and grinning at the crowd, she can’t stop herself from smiling stupidly at him, just like she does every time she sees him join her on stage, every time she realizes that this is their life, that this is something they do every night, now.

though her grin falters when raleigh pauses in front of his microphone and asks, “berlin, do you mind if i talk a little bit before i start the song? no? cool, because i’ve got an important question to ask.”

her eyes widen. cadence’s mouth drops open and doesn’t close throughout the entire speech raleigh gives her, even though thousands of people in the crowd are filming every moment of her gaping like an idiot, snapping close-ups of her shocked face.

the arena practically vibrates with screams when he drops to his knee, popping the box in his hand open so she can see the giant diamond ring nestled inside of it. 

“so?” raleigh asks, and cadence can just barely hear him in her in-ears with the way her heart is beating frantically up into her throat, as wild as the crowd’s raging around them and then some. “whaddya say, babe? will you marry me?”

as if the answer could ever be anything but yes. she nods, laughing as she launches herself into his arm for a kiss that’s too grand to be given on stage, though that’s hardly going to stop her -- not tonight, at least. tonight, she’s okay with the whole world watching their every move, just one more time.

“oh, i don’t know if it’s going to fit,” raleigh jokes as the ring slides easily onto her left hand, amping up the theatrics for the fans still watching them avidly, even up in the cheap seats.

cadence rolls her eyes playfully at him. “very funny,” she praises, and the grin he offers her in return is so loving -- so knowing, with the secret that only the two of them share and every weird piece of their history included in it -- that it takes everything she has to shove him away so they can perform instead of dragging him down to the floor to kiss him over and over again.

clumsily, she flubs a few notes of love who i’ll be on her guitar. from across the stage, between the bridge and the chorus, raleigh jeers, “someone hasn’t learned to play with the extra weight on their left hand, yet, i see,” and when she flips him off while belting out the last lines of the verse, his raucous laughter is all the harmony the final few bars of the song needs. 

[sdottkrames]

@comfortember Prompt 15: campfire

Summary: Tony takes Peter camping to watch a meteor shower

Notes: I adore space. Stars and constellations are so fascinating to me!!

Fun fact: The Leonids is actually happening in two days, and I thought that was really cool, so I incorporated that into this fic.

Also: the song is Jupiter by Sleeping at Last. I've recently become OBSESSED and their album Atlas 1 (especially the space songs) have become my Irondad muse. So enjoy!

Read on AO3: Here

While collecting the stars, I connected the dots

I don't know who I am, but now I know who I'm not

I'm just a curious speck that got caught up in orbit

***

Make my messes matter

Make this chaos count

_________________________________

 Tony’s concentration on the book he was reading was interrupted by a scream from his wife. Even though he was retired, he always kept the nanosuit close by (old habits die hard), and he had his gauntlet up in an instant, ready to fight. Then he looked to the window and saw what had made her scream.

 He rolled his eyes. “Let him in, Friday.”

 “Sorry, Pepper,” Peter said as he climbed through the window, but his laughter made it hard to believe his apology.

 “Don’t do that, Peter! I might not have the heart condition Tony’s always griping about,” she shot a grin to Tony, who pretended to be offended, “but I would rather stay away from one.”

 “Duly noted.” Peter shed his coat and sauntered over to the couch, cuddling up to Tony with no embarrassment. There had been a time that the easy affection between the two seemed impossible, and Tony was forever grateful those times were long past them. He put his arm around the boy, pulling him closer and picking up his book again. 

 “What’re you reading?” Peter murmured.

 Tony showed him the cover, a book on astronomy and the physics of stars, and was surprised to see Peter’s face light up. 

 “I love astronomy!” he said.

 “Really? I used to, but I started to hate it. For obvious reasons. I was hoping that reading about it more might make me hate it less.”

 Peter hummed. “I probably should hate space, too, but it was always my thing with Ben. I guess I just refused to let it go.”

 Tony could understand that. He’d never had any particular connection to space, just an idle interest in it as a kid. He’d started looking down whenever he was out at night, unable to look at the black expanse above him without seeing destruction and death. His experiences in the wormhole were soon joined by red dust and grey ash that seared his skin with grief and guilt. He had even started hating the moon. 

 But Peter was back, and Tony was trying to work through his hatred of and anxiety from space. Hence the book.

 “You know, there’s a meteor shower tomorrow night. The Leonids. I’ve never seen one.” Peter sighed wistfully.

 They continued their night as usual, but the gears in Tony’s head had started turning. He had an idea.

 “What are you planning?” Pepper asked him skeptically that night as she got into her pajamas. “You have that look in your eye you get when you have an idea.”

 “I was thi-in abou ta-in Peer sta-azing.” Tony was brushing his teeth, so it came out garbled and unintelligible, but Pepper spoke fluent Tony nonsense, so she understood.

 “I think that’s a great idea. There’s that campsite close by that we took Morgan to that one summer. The stars were pretty spectacular there.”

 Tony smiled at the memory around his toothbrush, and retreated to the bathroom to spit so he could talk normally.

 “Yeah, that’s a good idea. Just for tomorrow night. You can handle things here, right?” He teased.

 Pepper rolled her eyes. “As if I don’t handle things all day every day.”

 Tony kissed the corner of her smile. “You’re not wrong.”

 ***

 Peter sleepily shuffled into the kitchen the next morning, grunting a greeting unceremoniously at Tony, who chuckled and put a plate with a pile of pancakes and some bacon in front of him. Peter perked up instantly at the prospect of food, and dug in with gusto.

 “I will never understand how you can eat that much.”

 Peter grinned around a mouthful of pancake, his cheeks sticking out like a chipmunk’s and forcing Tony to use every ounce of self control to keep from pinching them. He was sure Peter wouldn’t appreciate that. 

 “What can I say? I’m a growing boy!” Peter took a moment to swallow. “Thanks for the breakfast, by the way.”

 Tony's amazing self control apparently didn't extend to ruffling Peter’s hair. “Anytime, kiddo,” he said. rubbing the kid's curly locks. “So, I was thinking, Pete. You want to go see the meteor shower tonight?”

 Peter paused in his chewing, eyes wide with excitement and disbelief. “What?!”

 “Well, I just figured since you said you’d never seen a meteor shower, and I happen to know of a really good camping spot, that you might want to go.”

 Peter nodded, jumping up and crushing Tony into a hug, squeaking a thank you. The older hero squeezed him gently. “You’re welcome, bud.”  

 After finishing his food and putting his plate in the sink, Peter excitedly ran to his room to pack a bag for camping. It was a quick drive to the site, so they lounged around, watching a movie with Morgan and enjoying lunch as a family before they decided to leave.

 Once everything was packed in the car, they were off. They stopped quickly at a grocery store because Peter insisted on hot dogs. Tony was more inclined to order takeout and eat it by the fire, but Peter had insisted on roasting hot dogs over the flames, and of course s'mores because “what camping trip is complete without s’mores, Tony?” Tony was quickly learning he had no self control when it came to Peter, so he ended up agreeing.

 It was a quick drive, and Tony reveled in the easy conversation and camaraderie between him and his kid. He never got tired of just talking and spending time with Peter, and it definitely helped distract from the slight worry in his chest about spending a night staring at space.

 They pulled into the campsite and Peter stretched as he got out. Tony let him pull out the tent. Being Tony Stark’s, it was no ordinary tent. It was huge, for one; Tony was pretty sure at least six of the Avengers had stayed in it one mission. It also had the comfiest blow up mattresses, and a built in speaker system that connected to Friday.

 Peter took one look as they laid it out, rolled his eyes, and mumbled something about glamping.

 “Yeah, I know, Underoos, this isn’t the typical camping tent. But I saved the world, lost an arm, all that jazz. I think I deserve a little comfort.”

 Peter let out a laugh. “Mmmmhmmmm. Sure. Are you sure it’s not just cause you’re old?”

 Tony gasped in mock offense. “Insubordination. I’m eating all your marshmallows.”

 Peter didn’t look concerned as he hammered the stakes into place. “Uh huh, okay,” he grinned.

 They made quick work of the tent, and even quicker work making the fire. Peter made it a competition gathering firewood, and Tony called him a cheater for climbing up a tree to get some bigger limbs. 

 “Show off,” he muttered as Peter flipped from the top of a tree, landing perfectly. “You’re like a cat, kid.”

 Peter grinned, and they got to work making the fire. It blazed, warm and bright, and they roasted hot dogs and marshmallows as the sun sank lower and lower in the sky. 

 “Oh, Tony, look!” 

 Tony glanced up just in time to see a star streak across the sky, and he couldn’t help but notice it’s beauty despite how his heart started thumping in his ears. 

 A hand slipped into his, stemming the panic. 

 “You’re here. You’re okay,” Peter whispered, and Tony took a shaky breath. “Did you know that shooting stars are little bits of debris from outer space? They enter the atmosphere and burn up. Sometimes they end up falling to the ground, but usually they just burn and disappear.”

 Tony nodded. He had read that somewhere as a kid. Peter pointed to a group of stars.

 “That’s the constellation Andromeda. See that blurry spot in the middle?” Tony nodded again. “That’s an entire galaxy. It’s amazing how we can see it so well this far away.”

 Peter continued to talk quietly, spouting off facts that Ben had taught him or that he’d learned from class. A strange sort of peace filled Tony as Peter's voice swirled with the crackling of the fire, replacing the panic in his heart.

 “Tell me about Ben,” he whispered eventually.

 Peter let out a little sigh. It wasn’t sad, more wistful than anything. “He was the best. You know this already, but he was the reason I became Spider-Man. He was kind, he cared about everybody he met, and he always made time for me. He was my hero.” Peter paused, and his voice went quiet. “He would have liked you.”

 Tony sniffed back unexpected tears. When Peter first came into his life, he hadn’t known what he meant to Peter for a long time, but he’d known he wasn’t the kid’s dad and uncle, and he had been so worried Peter felt like he was trying to replace them or something. 

 “I’d’ve been honored, and know I would have liked him too,” he finally answered.

 “You know, you remind me a lot of him. There was always a huge hole when he died, and you obviously didn’t fill the hole completely. Only he could. But you filled a different hole. You made it easier." Peter squeezed Tony's hand. "You still do. I’m glad I have you.”

 All the fear, the sorrow, the worry, every mess he made and every bit of chaos that came with raising a child was worth it in that moment. He squeezed Peter’s hand, telling his kid thank you without saying it.

 The fire crackled, the warmth washing over them and creating such a sense of peace that, combined with Peter’s hand in his, made it impossible for Tony to feel scared anymore.

 And above them, the stars rained down.

[girlgrouptrash101]

Dating Poly!SooQi

Request: "Dating poly idle soojin and yuqi please ty!!!"

A/N: I know it's been a while so surprise!! I'm alive yeehaw 🤠 (p.s. 🦆)

- C

Soojin and Yuqi is probably a rarer paring but still a *chefs kiss* pErfect one

I honestly think this trip would be so much softer than anyone thinks

because you keep it calm and cool in front of everyone else

(except for Yuqi who of course can't help herself and is always hanging off either you or Soojin or literally anyone else nearby)

most PDA is reserved for when you three at home, because dating publicly is always super tricky and messy for idols

and Soojin just generally feels way more comfy with being a cuddly bab in the privacy of your own home

Spending around 95% of your time together trying to stop Yuqi breaking everything in a 5 mile radius of her

she can't help it if she's clumsy, it's just she gets so excited about even the tiniest things in life

and when Yuqi gets excited her arms go *flap flap* and her face goes :D and she has complete disregard for any fragile objects around her, including you and Soojin who usually get smacked with sweater paws or her ponytail

you and Yuqi teaming up to try and make Soojin blush like crazy - girlie acts so confident but really gets so flustered at even the slightest compliment from you or Yuqi

Whenever you're about to fall asleep and you're all cuddled up and just about to close your eyes, Yuqi always starts giggling or says something dumb

and then you and Soojin can't help but laugh, and then any thoughts of sleep are just pushed off for a while longer

Soojin loves kisses even though she pretends to dodge them when you and Yuqi try to give her any

but when you and Yuqi give up on trying she gets all pouty and actually puckers up because she was just being a grump and she secretly just wants to be kissed all day every day

Presents are always handmade!!! they both think it just means so much more,, plus it helps a bit when the money gets tight

that could be a photo album, a scrapbook of your memories together, jewellery, baking sweet treats,,, anything that you can get your hands on and make it into something meaningful is always so cherished between you three

gotta get that (G)I-DLE merch though am I right, like you always get first dibs on the nicest stuff

and it makes the girls so so so!!! happy to see you supporting them in their career when it took so much for them to debut

and now they are finally achieving their dreams, it means all the more to them that you're there every step of the journey too

If one of you is coming back late, the other two always wait up for them, you can't go to bed without all 3 of you, it just wouldn't feel right

plus y'all brushing your teeth together every night is so funny, one of you makes the others laugh and then toothpaste just gets EVERYWHERE

BEACH DATES

Yuqi always challenges you guys to a sandcastle building contest

plus Ice cream at the beach always tastes the best after a long day in the sun

Soojin sprinting away from the waves until you and Yuqi finally convince her to go in the water

and when she's not looking you dunk her into a wave and she gets so mad lol

When the local festivals are on they always have fireworks in the town and you go to see them with your girls every year

you sit out on a big patch of grass in a park, wrapped up together in a big blanket you brought from home

with hot chocolate from a nearby café as you watch in awe at the bright colours flashing in the sky

it takes you like 30 years to choose a movie that all 3 of you want to watch

and then when it actually comes on you get distracted by snacks and one of you makes a dumb joke and you start laughing and then you realise,,, oh shit the movie is over and we didn't even watch any of it

but you know what they say, time flies when you're having fun uwu

the most competitive board game nights ever

where you literally almost kill yourself playing twister because your left leg is like doing a loop around Yuqis head and her arm is under Soojin and Soojin's leg?? honestly we lost her an hour ago

almost breaking up with each other after a 16 hour long game of monopoly

!!! These two will never let you be sad, and they're always there to offer emotional support and the best hugs

and their favourite thing ever is coming back to your place after a long month of schedules and curling into your side

finally getting a good sleep and feeling like they're back at home again

basically two softies who just love you and each other so much,,,,, a fat uwu today ladies

NSFW From Here:

I would like to start this off by saying once again, Soojin is one of the hottest people on this planet idek why she has such an effect on me sis but like-

Also Yuqi's deep ass voice like sissssss 🅱️ls have mercy

the only time you ever hear Soojin be loud is during sex, she just can't control her moans when you get her going

Yuqi loves being cheeky and pissing you and Soojin off just so she can get pinned down to the bed and get absolutely destroyed

Yuqi is always the guilty one when it comes to checking you guys out, when she's turned on she'll already be undressing you and Soojin with her eyes no matter where you are

which often leads to her trying to get you both riled up in public, and it takes so much effort to restrain yourselves

more often than not you can't help but give in and find the nearest bathroom to get all of your guys' urges out

let Soojin ride your face you won't regret it trust ME

Contrary to popular belief, Yuqi wears the strap in this relationship

that sentence made me laugh

Soojin giving birthday lapdances>>>>>

always recording so many videos and taking so many pictures so you don't miss them too much while they're away ;)))

Y'all never knew about Soojin's choking kink until one day you got too into it and wrapped your hands around her neck and she went fEral

so now you and Yuqi always use that to your advantage whenever Soojin thinks she can get away with being quiet and reserved like she usually is

Yuqi being so loud and whiny without even realising like she's such a baby when she wants to be

flopping down onto your mattress afterwards as all 3 of you are like 'fuck'...... lmao

Yuqi pulling both of you as close to you as possible so she can kiss you both and hold you while you fall asleep

[mosylufanfic]

Name That Tune

Inspired by the pic that DP recently posted to Instagram of her and Carlos looking like a couple of badass rockstars.

Name That Tune

Over the sound of his piano, Cisco heard the front door open and the click of familiar high heels on the tile floor of his entryway. He didn't bother to call out. He was the only one who played this piano. She'd know where to find him.

Sure enough, his manager strode in a few minutes later, ferociously stylish in skinny jeans, silk blouse, high heels, and a leather jacket that was probably too warm for the southern California weather, but still looked like a million bucks. "Surprised to see you awake," she said, setting her leather satchel down next to her usual chair.

"Why wouldn't I be?" He noodled the same chord progression again, frowning. There was something off about it, but he couldn't figure out what.

"You had a late night last night." Caitlin pulled out her phone and tablet and laid them out on the black glass coffee table, all business as always.

"Of all people, you should know better than to believe what you see online."

"I don't," she retorted, waking up the tablet and checking something. Probably her schedule, or her to-do list with its hundreds of tasks and subtasks. "Ralph texted me."

"My driver ratted me out? Fired. Out on the street."

"I cut his checks," she said calmly. "So no. Not fired. And you were getting in at four, the morning before a performance. Did you even sleep?"

It wasn't an idle question. He'd been known to pull 48-hour stretches when the music grabbed him by the throat. "Yes," he said. "A few hours." He ran his fingers over the keys. "I'm fine. I'll take a nap later.”

"See that you do." She unfolded herself from the chair and strode over to his wet bar. He ignored the various clatters and thumps and kept banging away at the chords. He was no closer to figuring them out when she set a giant mug on the music shelf of the piano, with a coaster under it.

He picked it up and took a sip. Hot tea, lemon ginger with two squeezes of honey, just the way he liked it. He would drink at least three or four more cups before tonight's show. "Thanks," he said.

She shrugged and settled herself back in her chair with her bottle of kiwi strawberry sparkling water. He had no idea why she liked it - the stuff tasted like it had heard about kiwis and strawberries on the Internet once - but she did, so he always had at least a case in the house.

"Are you working on the new album or messing around?" she asked.

"Mmm. Working." He played the chord progression again. "This phrase won't get out of my head but I'm not sure what it's about. Thoughts?"

"You know I'm tone-deaf," she said.

He shrugged. "You know what you like, though. C'mon." He played it again, all the way through.

She listened, sipping her water. "It sounds like yearning," she said. 

He lifted his hands from the keyboard and looked at her. "Yearning?"

"You know. Like there's something you want but can't have."

He lifted the tea to his lips again to hide the hard swallow he had to take then. When he was pretty sure he had himself under control, he said, "So something just out of reach?"

She looked away for a moment. "More like . . . it's within arm's length, but you're not brave enough to touch it."

He stared at her. She cleared her throat and took another sip of water. "Or, you know. Something like that."

"Hey," he said, and she looked up. He pointed at her. "I'm the singer-songwriter around here, don't you forget that."

She smiled a little.

"But I gotta admit that's . . . that was pretty good." He pulled his notebook toward him and scribbled down a few of the things she'd said. The musical phrase that had been circling his brain started to grow and expand, verses, chorus, bridge . . . He grabbed his phone and set it to record, then played a few of the threads spooling themselves out, before he forgot them. 

Caitlin listened, sipping her water, her face calm and unreadable.

"Good," he said, ending the recording and taking a deep gulp of tea. "I can work with that." He got up from the piano, taking his tea with him, and went over to kiss her cheek. "Thanks."

"It's all you," she said, and picked up her tablet. "If you're at a good stopping place, we should go over your schedule for today." 

He shrugged and dropped onto the couch, setting his tea on the coffee table. "Hit me." 

She paused to glare at his coaster-less mug until he reached over and pulled one off the little rack. Then she picked up her phone and fired away like a Gatling gun.

"I'm going from here to the venue for last-minute logistics. You're due at three for a sound check and run-through. Allegra's arranging dinner from Sushi Ten for you and the crew."

He nodded. "Including the Legends?"

She checked a text on her phone. "The bassist is allergic to soy and shellfish, so he asked for another restaurant, but everyone else is getting an order."

Shellfish, Cisco thought, filing it away. And soy.

If this group did a good show opening for him tonight, they'd come with him on tour next month.  Of course, Caitlin or her razor-efficient PA would make sure there weren't any allergens on the bus or at any of the stops, but it was good to remember anyway.

"At seven," she went on, "you've got a meet and greet with fans, including the Make a Wish kid you requested. Names and details on your calendar. The show starts at eight and you'll go on at nine-thirty. Rolling Stone wants an interview after."

"Who's the reporter?"

She checked her notes. "Iris West-Allen."

"Good. I like her. She doesn't spring shit on me."

"Yes," she said dryly, "I like that about her too. So that should be half an hour, an hour. I'll catch her on the way out and confirm any details." She tapped a few notes to herself and looked up. "Am I arranging any backstage passes tonight?"

"Yeah," he said, taking a sip of tea. "Couple of cuties I met at the bar. They follow me on Instagram."

She raised a brow. "You have over two hundred million followers on Instagram."

"They posted a pic last night. It was really nice meeting them." He smirked. "Really nice."

She picked up her phone, scrolled through his mentions, and found the post he was talking about. "These two?" she asked, holding it up to show a shot of a good-looking young couple, with him in the center, all three of them smiling brightly. Behind them the bar was dark and crowded.

"Yep. Jake and Christy . . . something. Forgot their last name." He waved a hand. "And while you're at it, bump up their seats as far as you can."

"I'll take care of it," she said, tapping a note to herself. Cool and unruffled, she continued, "Gatorade and condoms in your dressing room or back here?"

Because she was looking at her phone and not him, he allowed his eyes to narrow a little. "Let's say both," he said, pushing harder. "See where the night takes us."

She didn't react. "Okay. I'll be by tomorrow at noon. You've got another interview at two. Entertainment Weekly, they're coming here. So don't wear yourself out with your Instagram cuties tonight." 

"Hawthorne," he said. "That's it. Jake and Christy Hawthorne."

"Good, that makes my job a little easier," she said, typing the name into her phone. "I'll have those passes waiting at the box office." She flipped the cover closed on her tablet and started packing it away. "Anything else you need before I go?"

He gazed up at her, thinking, your hands, your lips, your heart.

He shrugged and drained his tea. "I'm good."

She tucked her phone in its little outside pocket. "Don't get lost in the music," she said. "Remember to take that nap."

He checked the time. "I've already asked for a sandwich in an hour, and after that I'll crash for ninety minutes or so. I'll be there in plenty of time."

"I know," she said. "Text if you need me." She was off then, heels clicking on the tiles, voice echoing in the hallway as she delegated new tasks to her PA, door thumping closed behind her.

He stayed on the couch for a moment longer, telling himself it would be maudlin beyond belief if he went to the window and stared longingly after her sapphire blue car streaking down the driveway. 

The least she could have done was look a little jealous when he'd implied he was going to have a wild threesome with a sexy couple tonight after the show. 

Not that he was actually going to do much more than kiss Christy Hawthorne's cheek. This was her birthday present, her husband had told him in the bar last night, one that Jake had scrimped and saved his teacher’s salary for.

No matter what Cisco had implied, the backstage passes and upgraded seats were just something nice for a couple of fans that had been sweet and excited when they’d recognized him at the bar last night. He hadn't gotten the sense that either of them were open to a post-concert tryst, even with their favorite rock star. 

So he'd walk around backstage with them, make chit-chat, sign some things, and wave good-bye. And if Caitlin thought they'd done anything more in his dressing room, well then, that was her problem.

He peeled himself off the couch and went back to the wet bar to get another mug of tea going. He grabbed his phone off the piano on the way, listening to the recording he'd made. The things she'd said swirled around his head. 

Arm's length. Close enough to touch. 

That was good. That could be something there. He played a silent string of notes on the edge of the bar as his tea steeped, hearing them swim in his head, aching. Longing. 

Yearning.

If nothing else, unrequited love was great for his songwriting.

FINIS

[split-n-splice]

[Chapter Guide]

Chapter 3 - Trial

Once she’d caught up to the black SUV, more or less, Shilo was careful to keep her distance and her stalker just within sight.

Paranoia had her palms sweaty on the wheel and her brain buzzing, wondering if swapping the minivan for the Sloth had disguised her well enough or if the man was aware he was being followed now. It wasn’t the first time she’d ever followed anyone, but it was perhaps the first time she’d followed someone looking for her in turn, made evident when the suspicious vehicle took a leisurely pass through her neighborhood before making a beeline for a motel near the interstate.

She found a place to park just around the corner on the block across the street, crossing her fingers she was as inconspicuous as could be after following the SUV for half an hour or more.

A trusty pair of compact binoculars were found in the glove box. For once she was thankful that her brother was an overenthusiastic vigilante.

Shilo leaned over the back seat to peer through the rear window, focusing the binoculars on the henchmen climbing out of the SUV. They stretched, and after a moment of chatter among themselves, they dispersed to their respective rooms. The scowling blue man in the suit was the last to leave the vehicle, and she paid particular attention to the door he disappeared through on the second floor. Shilo branded the room number into her memory.

Deciding to give it some time before confronting the strange doctor, Shilo returned home.

She didn’t want to come off as too interested anyway, let alone desperate. One could never be too careful either, she supposed. It could still be a setup, some kind of trap, and she’d rather keep him waiting if that were the case. Soothing her nerves, she savored the idea of showing up unexpected later to catch him off guard. She’d love to instill a little unease by turning the tables, turning the stalker into the stalked.

In the meantime, she found herself home alone.

She wasted no time busying herself with stuffing an old black backpack with clothes and essentials. It was good to have a go-bag anyway. It didn’t mean she was leaving.

Yet she couldn’t convince herself it was just a precaution when she kept glancing out the window to the street below, expecting – hoping? – to see a black vehicle idling out front. Packing in anticipation was insane. Shilo shook her head but didn’t shake out the bag.

She still paused to contemplate what her most valuable possessions might be that she couldn’t bear to leave behind if she did act on a whim to run away with a sketchy stranger, as ludicrous as it was.

It was practically a reflex to consider family photos, but one flip through the album, and she froze at a rare surviving snapshot of a raven-haired beauty staring back at her not unlike a reflection, the only notable difference being the woman in the photo was happy. Like all other memorabilia, it was destined to never make it to her bug-out bag. It was a wonder the photograph had escaped her hot-tempered teenage rage at all until now.

“I am not like her,” Shilo swore to herself, watching the crumpled photo quickly burn to ash now in her palm.

She wasn’t abandoning or disowning her family for being mutants. She wasn’t afraid of them. She wasn’t skipping town for better things or because things had gotten difficult – her freak family had exceeded difficult ages ago. No, she was leaving because she was nineteen, she told herself. She was long past due for leaving the nest. That was all. Right?

“It’s not like I don’t love them anymore,” she grumbled, and grimaced the second it slipped out. If she was seriously considering a pole shift, then being tethered by things like love and family would just be giving herself a laughable weak spot. Right? Villains shouldn’t have those kinds of sentiments, right? She supposed she’d learn the ins and outs in time.

Was she really considering going through with this?

Deep breaths.

Shilo tried once more to reassure herself. “I’ll see them again,” she mumbled. “Hugo is smart enough and has the resources now to find me if he really wants to.” She paced her room with her bag, stealing another fruitless glance out the window. “He hasn’t looked for Mom yet, so he maybe won’t try too hard to find me either.” Maybe he’d accept her decision and let her go.

She thought her mumblings would make herself feel better, but they really weren’t helping. At all.

She struggled to push thoughts of abandoning her family and being forgotten like yesterday’s news aside in favor of focusing on the television for a while, hoping it would lull her to sleep so she could get some needed shut-eye.

But it didn’t, and when reality TV got grating, Shilo nearly hopped on her brother’s computer to search for Dr. Drakken in Global Justice’s database to dig up what she could on him, but she stopped herself. If he was the real deal, the search might tip off the organization supervising her freak family. Shilo grit her teeth and turned away from her big brother’s door. If he was the real deal, she’d have to trust Dr. Drakken enough to go into it blind, more or less. It was no big deal, she told herself. She took risks all the time.

She resumed her organizing and packing, dwelling over what qualified as essentials while trying to pack light.

It had been a way of killing time at least, but she couldn’t keep herself cooped up all day.

Despite keeping a hopeful eye out for him earlier, Shilo didn’t want to be caught leaving from the front door. Her stalker seemed to have a habit of stakeouts and prowling her street, so come noon, she slipped out the back door just in case to hop the back fence and cut through an oblivious senior neighbor’s yard, just as she used to whenever sneaking out in the uniform she’d grown accustomed to over the years, though she was undercover today, setting out as just a deceptively typical civilian.

She needed more evidence than smooth talk, a failed theft, and a car full of hired muscle to prove the doctor was dedicated to criminal ambitions. She needed proof he was worthwhile, not a wannabe. That he was someone exciting. Or at the very least, someone with the potential to be worth throwing her present life away for.

Catching a bus, Shilo soon found herself practically vibrating in anticipation, giddy with the notion of doing something bigger than petty misdemeanors. She hadn’t even done anything yet, and the thought was giving her a rush. On the off chance the guy was serious about outrageous domination goals, and on the off chance he had the guts and the brains to pull it off, maybe she could get close enough to sweep that victory out from under him, be it for good or for bad.

She was getting ahead of herself.

Shilo caught herself smirking to impractical daydreams and wiped the smile off her face in time to disembark near the interstate.

Even if the man couldn’t achieve his dreams, maybe he could at least give her the thrill of becoming someone notorious, she mused. Accepting his offer would be a place to start. She was sick and tired of playing by the rules. Sick of fighting for the greater good when she’d rather do anything but. She didn’t owe Go City or the world diddly-squat just because she was superhuman. She had to break the mold set for her sometime.

And that time felt like it was approaching fast, and it made her stomach flip.

She was as nervous as she was excited for what she was getting herself into.

Shilo reached her destination and ducked behind the hedge bordering the parking lot. She surveyed the motel. No loitering henchmen or Dr. Drakken in sight. No SUV either. She glanced behind her and all around the street for evidence of the scoundrels, but there was no sign of her stalker or his goons. So she turned back to the motel and scanned the doors to find Dr. Drakken’s, and after a nervous pause, she finally willed herself to make her move.

She straightened up and walked with purpose as she crossed the parking lot, as if she had business here. As if she might be staying here herself. As if she wasn’t up to anything shifty.

Shilo stopped outside her stalker’s room on the second story and listened carefully to the silence inside. She glanced back to be absolutely sure she hadn’t overlooked the SUV in the parking lot that was nearly empty, and composed herself to hide all traces – she hoped – of her nerves before knocking, finding herself hoping he was in. For good measure, she had a smug smile ready for him. She’d love to see the surprise on his face.

But there remained a dead silence, so she knocked a little harder. When there was still no answer, she pushed her disappointment aside and dug in the pocket of her jeans for a handy-dandy lock-picking kit and set to work. She couldn’t help casting a few distracted glances back toward the road for signs of the doctor’s rig.

It would have been faster and easier to blast the door open, but that wasn’t an ideal method when she didn’t want to be busted. Subtlety was key.

Soon enough, Shilo was inside. She tiptoed into the dark room. The only thing of interest was an old scuffed suitcase left at the foot of the tidy bed. Beyond the furniture and luggage, the room was bare.

She should have known not to expect it to look like the headquarters of a raving lunatic – it was only a motel room after all. The walls weren’t covered in blueprints or self-absorbed news clippings or scribes of a madman. At a glance, there was nothing at all she could use to accuse the man of criminal activity.

Which was disappointing, to say the least.

Chewing on a nail as she surveyed the room, she couldn’t help feeling a little stupid. Maybe one of the henchmen had paraphernalia? She kicked herself for not paying attention to what rooms they’d split up to, but made the best of her situation and let her investigation take her to the suitcase.

Shilo knelt down by it and weighed the odds of it being booby-trapped for a moment before deciding to take her chances. However, just as she reached for it, a shadow fell over her from the doorway. She whipped around with a startled gasp, warmth flaring in her palms as she clutched her green fire, reflexively ready for a fight. But the man in the doorway was at ease.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” Dr. Drakken clicked his tongue, watching her like a critical unblinking owl as she leapt to her feet. His gaze drifted down, her glow glinting off his glasses, inquisitive eyes shifting to her hands. “Looking for something?”

Given her uncertainty for her present safety, Shego was hesitant to extinguish her flame, but she let it burn out after a moment of the man waiting patiently. She didn’t like the curious way he was watching the plasma anyway, and didn’t want to prolong whatever satisfaction he took in studying it.

“Proof,” she answered curtly.

“Is that so?” A little smug, the peculiar man cocked his head at her, his brow arching. “What kind of proof?”

“That you’re really as bad as you say,” Shego clarified.

Dr. Drakken scoffed. “I’m only here on a simple pilfering mission, so I’m afraid you’ll find no further proof of my misdeeds and schemes here.”

When Dr. Drakken took a step in, Shego took a step back, hoping at the back of her mind that he’d take another step closer to clear the doorway so she could make a break for it without being snared by grubby blue hands. “What are you scheming?” she demanded instead. “Why are you in my city?”

Elbow in hand, he tapped his chin thoughtfully, making her skin crawl as he looked her over with a critical eye. “I’ll let you in on it if you do me an itsy bitsy favor,” Dr. Drakken bribed with a pinching gesture. When she curled her lip at him, he held up his hands in peace. “Just a little errand,” he added honestly. “Should be easy as pie for you.”

“Not interested,” Shego growled anyway. She gave up waiting and tried to push past him, but she nearly recoiled and lashed out in reflex when he barred the way with an arm to make her pause. She barely kept her fists to her sides.

His jovial facade was gone. “Thanks to you, my men failed their assignment,” Dr. Drakken explained bluntly, crossly. “But if you could get me the robotics programming data from those clever college brats before that rotten Global Justice confiscates it, that would be swell.”

Shego grit her teeth back at him and glared harshly, but he was unwavering. She didn’t put up with family blocking her way or smugly using a height advantage over her, and she sure as hell wasn’t about to put up with it from a stranger trying to employ her either. If she went along with anything, she was doing so on her terms.

So without thinking it through, without pausing to consider how it might affect her chances of getting out of this town or any other consequences, Shego grabbed a fistful of the blue man’s suit and swung him out of her way, throwing him back hard enough that he was knocked to his butt. She might not have had her big brother’s superstrength, but she was no weakling either.

“Let’s get something straight, Doc,” she leered down at him. “Don’t mess with me. I might be labeled a hero around here, but I can and I will leave you for a forensics team if you try to pull one over on me.”

There was an edge of nervousness in Dr. Drakken’s chuckle as he held up his hands, an appeasing smile worn on his face. “I swear, no tricks!” he said with a quiver of sincerity, taking her threat to heart while barely maintaining his confidence. “I want your help – not to harm you.”

Shego studied his face until he uncomfortably peered away. Once detecting that moment of weakness, she relaxed. She suddenly didn’t feel quite so threatened by him if he was so easily bullied into submission anyway. It was only when she gave a small nod and muttered, “Alright,” did he pick himself up and recompose himself.

The pallid man straightened his tie and smoothed his coat. “So. Shego. Are you up for the job?” he inquired. “Stealing the programming for me, I mean.”

She wasn’t ready to outright agree to anything quite yet, so she dodged his question with her own. “What do you need it for?”

“Robots, of course,” Dr. Drakken answered, his blithe demeanor returning. He came towards her as he explained, carefully guiding her out with an arm hovering behind her to urge her along. “They’re very special robots – I’m quite proud of them. I need them to be perfect.”

“Why steal? You’re some kind of expert, aren’t you?” Shego wondered. “Can’t you program them yourself?”

The blue man shrugged and offered his excuse, “For the sake of doing bad, first and foremost of course. Plus it’s easier and less time consuming this way, as opposed to making it from scratch.” He swallowed a little anxiously when the young woman’s scowl turned up to him. “Hnn. Okay. So I can build them alright, but programming – it's…certain aspects of it are not my forte,” he explained reluctantly with a few wild hand gestures.

Upon reaching the bottom of the stairway, Shego realized suddenly that although she was keeping pace, she was still technically following the man, and she didn’t quite like that. He wasn’t her superior yet. She didn’t have to follow him anywhere.

Falling back a step, she narrowed her eyes at his slick mullet for a moment before crossing her arms and scowling away resentfully, remembering there was no telling how long this creep had been stalking her, which she still didn’t appreciate even if it lead to his offer for a way out. But that was a villain for you. It was in the job description to be sketchy – targeting the presumably weak, stalking, thieving, and the sorts. By evil standards, the devious behavior should probably be appealing. And maybe it was, just a little. She wasn’t telling him off just yet anyway.

“You stalked me here, didn’t you?” she had to wonder.

“No, not this time,” Dr. Drakken admitted. “The crew and I had a change of plans, and I let the boys take the car. I was just coming back and what a surprise! There you were.” He turned an accusing frown on her before barking a laugh just shy of wicked. “It worked out, though, didn’t it? I didn’t have to go looking for you this time.”

“I guess,” Shego muttered, still holding herself as they strode out across the blacktop. “Um…I’m gonna…” She warily sidestepped away. “I’ll see you later,” she said as she left in a hurry the second she reached the sidewalk.

“What, don’t want a briefing?” Dr. Drakken called after her, perplexed.

She waved over her shoulder but didn’t look back at the strange man. “I’ll manage,” she assured him, her mind made up.

++X++

And manage she did.

She’d sworn to herself she wouldn’t wear her uniform again, yet here she was, dressed in a black turtleneck sweater on a warm day, oversized jeans hiding the lower half of the costume as she loitered outside on a mediocre college campus.

There was nothing impressive or renown about the place, and as far as she knew or cared, possibly the biggest news to ever be generated here was all due to Dr. Drakken’s goons yesterday.

Sneaking up to the building without drawing attention was effortless. She scanned for security cameras just in case as she found herself a nice blind spot in the shade along the east wall. No one paid her any mind as she leaned there to check her makeup in her compact. Just as soon as passerby had cleared the street and lawn within sight of her, she slipped out of her sweater and jeans, pulled her hair back into a neat ponytail, and tucked her civilian disguise under the shrubs. She donned her gloves, and though she hated it the most, she tied on her clownish domino mask as well to complete the look of the resident heroine Shego.

If she weren’t on a mission to steal under the guise of good, then being seen in public in her signature Team Go uniform would have felt like forfeit. A handful of loitering students turned their heads and raised eyebrows at her as she strode up the steps to the main entrance, and devious delight bubbled up in her chest when she heard some excited whispers. Those who didn’t detest her yet were so oblivious and in awe of their local heroine that the prospect of treason was all the more enticing.

For the first time in her life, she was happy to wear the uniform.

Shego calmly navigated her way back to the computer lab, passing through the halls like any normal person would – as opposed to blasting into the side of the building like Dr. Drakken’s showy idiot henchmen had yesterday. The door to the tech room had been busted off the hinges in yesterday’s skirmish when Shego had thrown one of Dr. Drakken’s goons through it. Though the glass and debris in the hall had since been swept up, there was still caution tape crisscrossing the doorframe.

Despite the destruction and a new gaping window filling the room with an abundance of glaring afternoon sunlight, the overhead lights were still operating and the room was still occupied. A couple of young men were sullenly putting their things back in order, a lanky boy who looked like he belonged on the basketball team returning textbooks to shelves and a stout pasty kid hunched over a brightly-lit table, sorting tiny pieces of shattered mini-robots into piles.

“Excuse me,” Shego called, knocking lightly on the doorframe.

Both boys glanced to her and a third techno-nerd bounced up from behind a desk, her hands full of cables. Her eyes popped wide and she dropped them with a heavy thump to cover her mouth. “Guys!” she gasped, looking incredulously to her companions. She sputtered something indiscernible before excitedly making out, “Team Go is here!”

But the boys weren’t impressed. They didn’t even look up, giving only a grunt and a shrug. Shego wasn’t surprised. The city was divided on the matters of Team Go lately.

Shego crossed her arms, a little self-consciously, a little nervously, and managed a small fake smile. “Actually, it’s just me,” she said casually, interrupting the girl before she could launch into introducing herself. “I was wondering if I could have a look around? See what those bozos stole? Or tried to steal?”

“They didn’t get away with anything,” grouched the chunky boy. “But they sure broke enough.”

“They’re not the only ones to blame,” added the tall boy, and he cast a dark glare towards Shego.

Oh, she would love to give them a better reason to loath her, but now wasn’t the time. “May I—,” Shego began.

“Come in? Oh, yes! Yes, please do,” said the spectacled girl eagerly as she came tripping and hopping out from behind the row of computer desks. The second Shego ducked under the caution tape, the young woman was bouncing to her side, giving off a puppy-like impression.

“Like Zack said,” she prattled on, “they didn’t steal anything. Mostly it’s just property damage. We think we know what they were after, but I don’t get why they’d want it. It’s not even finished yet, and it’s buggy, and—”

And Shego tuned it out.

Hands on her hips, she came to peek at Zack’s task of sorting miniature robotic parts with the aid of a magnifying glass and oversized tweezers. Some pieces squirmed and twitched like the limbs of insects.

“So, in plain english, what exactly were they after?” she wondered aloud, feigning ignorance. “Cricket robots?”

“Tyler’s drone project,” grumbled the mini-robo boy, not even sparing her a glance.

The tall boy Shego presumed to be Tyler shot an unappreciative scowl at Zack. “What is it you want?” he asked Shego icily, unquestionably still tart over the wreck she’d left their geeky little headquarters in.

“Classified,” she bluffed. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to take a look around in private. I just, you know, work best alone.”

“GCPD already took care of the investigation,” said Tyler suspiciously. “I’m sure you can get all your answers from them.”

“They aren’t even competent enough to keep yesterday’s lame-o thieves contained,” Shego shot back, the news alarming the young man. She rallied an air of authority that might have rivaled Hego’s. “I don’t trust the depth of their investigation. With those criminals at large, it’s imperative I gather what information I can on them so that Team Go can stop them. So if you don’t mind, please leave me to do my work. I’ll contact you later for questioning.” She gestured to the door, inviting them to take their leave.

The boys reluctantly ceased their tasks, exchanging looks. They did leave without another word to her, but they shot daggers at her as they left, grumbling to one another.

The girl, however, hesitated at the door. “Um, thank you, Shego,” she chirped nervously, still grinning gullibly. “If you need anything, I’ll just, uh, be in the library, so…”

Shego nodded and offered a smile, watching the geeky girl duck out and shuffle off after the boys. Nerds, she snidely thought to herself, and turned away to begin her phony investigation. She’d already learned from interrupting yesterday’s thieves that there were no security cameras installed in here, and that remained to be the case, allowing her to freely peruse the lab. She took a wild guess as to which computer belonged to Tyler, as it was the cleanest and tidiest of the three, the keyboard free of crumbs and technicolor animal stickers absent from along the edges of the monitor.

Just like yesterday, there were no plainly marked cases to rummage through, no stacks of CD’s or floppy disks set out to grab and go, so she made the assumption that he used his computer for its intended purpose: storing information. That was surely the target, and after all, it was what she’d caught one henchman trying to smuggle out under an arm yesterday.

No tools necessary, she knelt down under the desk to pop the hood to reveal the inner workings of the computer. A couple pulled plugs, and she squeezed the hard drive into her empty utility pouch. Why waste time trying to figure out passwords and burning disks when she could take the whole darn thing to Dr. Drakken? Let him sort that out, if he was such a genius.

It was too easy. Almost boring. If these weren’t a bunch of basic kids, she might have expected some kind of trap. Any future tasks she accepted had better be more exciting, she decided.

As she stood, she spied a small pillbox tucked beside the monitor. If it drew her eye, it was worth a closer look. In the tiny cubicles were three tiny square chips no bigger than a fingernail, and written on nothing fancier than masking tape, the label on the side read Beta Synchronizing Chips. Shego nodded to herself. That sounded about right if she was after some drone programming.

It looked useful enough, so without an inkling of guilt, Shego tucked it into a pocket at her hip. It couldn’t hurt. It might earn her brownie points to make up for knocking Dr. Drakken down earlier anyway.

[carmenlire]

Higher than the Big Trees Ch. 8

read on ao3

Humble Pride: The Duality of Alec Lightwood Out Magazine Feature, June 2018 Article by Andrew Bronheimer Photos by Connor Murphy

Alec Lightwood. Heartthrob to millions, artist extraordinaire, last year’s Paris Fashion Week surprise when he walked down the Armani runway in a truly delectable teal suit with suitably dramatic eye makeup. Lightwood’s been the talk of the town for over a decade now. He released his very first song a week before he turned sixteen and the rest, as they say, is history.

Lightwood’s illustrious career has spanned controversy and continents and just recently has earned him the title Entertainer of the Year just a few months ago-- for the third time. For those that don’t know, Alec writes all of his songs and can play a variety of instruments including the guitar, piano, drums, and the clarinet.

Alec has just wrapped up his latest world tour. 128 tour dates, over a million tickets sold, and an estimated 700 million dollars in revenue resulted in a sold-out tour for a triple platinum album that puts this superstar at the top of his game.

We don’t see him falling anytime soon.

Because I’m obsessive about making a good impression to my guests, I showed up to the little cafe we had agreed to meet up at half an hour early. It gives me time to review my notes and take a breath, opening my mind for first impressions-- both good and bad.

The cafe in question is cute. It’s full of bright colors-- splashes of crimson mixed with ribbons of turquoise gives the place a kitschy, bohemian air. The pastry display at the front of the shop is beautiful with fluffy scones and gigantic cupcakes covered with a mountain of frosting.

It’s turning towards evening and the golden light adds to the summer ambiance. I was just debating between a piece of raspberry swirl pound cake or triple chocolate muffin when the little bell above the door chimed and in walked the man of the hour.

Alec Lightwood is even more stunning in person, dear readers. He’s sporting a five o’clock shadow that makes his face a little more rugged and his patrician features look carved from marble. He’s wearing slim fit pants in an alluring olive green with the bottoms rolled up to show surprisingly delicate ankles for such a tall man.

His navy sweater is just right, offering a lovely contrast from the pants and working well with his coloring.

Lightwood slips his sunglasses off and tucks then into the neck of his sweater. His eyes sweep across the surprisingly empty eatery before landing on me. Immediately, I’m a little intimidated. Razor sharp hazel eyes that show a surprising intelligence and his giraffe-like height are a little overwhelming when you’re a foot shorter and not expecting such attention.

In the next moment, Alec smiles and it’s a warm, engaging thing that instantly makes everything more comfortable.

We chat for a few minutes before deciding to order. Alec orders a coffee drink that is at least ninety-five percent sugar-- a concoction with caramel, mocha and whipped cream. We both choose a few pastries-- Alec goes for the dark chocolate scone-- and we settle in to our little table. He’s patient as I set my recorder up and seems content to happily munch on his baked good, giving the impression that he’s not bothered that I’m a little scattered today, of all days.

Then we begin.

Out: So, Alec, welcome back home. How does it feel?

Alec: (Laughs). Thanks, man. It feels great. I’m a New Yorker born and bred and while I love traveling nothing quite beats being home and taking that first subway ride after a while abroad.

O: You just wrapped up your latest sold-out tour. How did it compare to previous tours?

A: This tour was definitely the biggest on any scale, whether it was tickets sold, venue capacities, or effort. The crew was amazing every night, putting together sets and making sure that everything went off without a hitch. And the fans, well, they just continue to blow me away. Their enthusiasm is unmatched. While grueling-- it’s the longest tour I’ve ever done and covered the most distance-- it was indescribably brilliant. I had the time of my life and I hope everyone else feels the same.

O: World tour, check. What’s next for you, Lightwood?

A: That’s the million dollar question. I have a few months before I start recording my next album. I plan to take this summer and write most of the material for that record. Plus, I want to enjoy some time off. It’s been a year since I was last in New York and I want to get reacquainted with the city and with my family.

O: So, both work and play?

A: Yeah, I guess so. There’s always that push to think ahead in terms of my career-- what’s the next step, where can I go from here. I’ll definitely be working this summer. I have a few writing sessions lined up with artists I really admire and I’m excited to see what emerges from them. An Arrow in the Dark was a huge phase of that career, though, and coming off that album cycle kind of just leaves me with a desire to sleep for a century (laughs). I’m using this time to recharge and make my seventh album the best I can, the best I’ve ever done.

O: Can you tease anything from the next album?

A: I think this album might surprise the fans a little. I’ve been at this for over a decade. I want to stretch my legs and experiment a little. I don’t know what will make it on the record, but I need to change things up or I’ll get stale and that’s the worst thing for an artist to become.

O: So, you’re doing something different? We should prepare ourselves for something a little out of the box when we think of Alec Lightwood?

A: I guess that’s a takeaway. I just want the fans to go into things with an open mind. I’ve lived a lot in the past two years and those experiences will probably show up in my next album. I’m looking for new shit, man. I don’t want to put any parameters on my art-- who knows what’s going to come out.

O: Speaking of living a lot, you’ve been linked to several men, including Emmy-winning Actor Jason Desker. Can I ask if anything is going on there?

A: Sure, you can ask. Doesn’t mean I’ll answer. But, truthfully, there’s not much to say. Jason and I met up at an after-party and the next day rumors were swirling around about the two of us. I can tell you, 100 percent truth, that I am single and unattached. I’m not in a relationship and I haven’t been in one for years.

O: But what about all of the rumors?

A: They’re just that. Rumors. False gossip and idle speculation.

O: No one’s caught your eye, then?

A: No.

O: Okay, then. There’s the truth straight from your lips. Now, Alec, you’ve been out since almost the beginning of your career, which began when you were a junior in high school. What can you share about your own experiences coming out during such a turbulent time?

A: I’ve known I was gay since I was a little kid. Absolutely no doubt about it. It took me years to learn the name for what I felt and even longer to reconcile that part of me with everyone else’s expectations. When my family asked if there was anyone special I had me eye on, I’d shrug and deny anything, offering that school and sports were taking all of my focus. My siblings knew everything wasn’t what it seemed, but they let me have that shield to hide behind until I was ready to admit to the world that I wasn’t straight.

At the very start of my career, there was a lot of contention between a lot of parties on what my image should be. I kept quiet for months and was well into my senior year of high school when I decided to make my public move. I was the captain of the soccer team and had been going out with one of my teammates for a few months.

I was just fed up with it all. I had a hit song on the radio and the whole damn school knew about the two of us-- it was almost an open secret. The guy at the time was in the closet but ready to come out and I was standing in his way. So, the day we won the state tournament, I kissed him in front of a few thousand people out on the field. IT was an incredible high and I don't think either of us could believe what I'd just done.

Shit was a little crazy after that. The media took to the story like a house on fire and things at school and home were a little hectic for awhile. But I felt a lot of relief and everything was worth it in the end.

O: That’s quite a story.

A: (Laughs). Yeah. It was dramatic as hell and I caught a lot of heat for it, but I was just tired, you know? I was a month from graduation and planning to go on tour right after that and it was almost like, it was now or never. So, I chose now. The moment I did it was a cathartic release. All that weight just dropped from my shoulders. That isn’t to say that things were smooth sailing, because like I said there were a lot of parties that were unhappy with me and my irrevocable decision. My coming out wasn't just for my own mental health or peace of mind-- it was a deliberate business decision that I knew would impact my career from the second I went through with it, but I haven’t regretted anything. If sharing the absolute terror and relief I felt helps anyone, then I have no problem talking about my story.

O: You have a lot of fans and are a role model to many of them, especially those in our community. Do you have any advice for them?

A: I’d say, just share your truth. That sounds like such after school special bullshit but it’s true. Even if you are straight or cis, you can still be going through things that are difficult to handle or acknowledge. Once you start living your best life, is when you start really living. There will be hate and ignorance and all that bad stuff but being free and unapologetic about it is a powerful balm to any insults or accusations that might get hurled your way. Remember, there’s nothing wrong with what you feel. You’re valid and it’s going to be okay.

O: Wise words, Alec. Now that you’ve been out for almost a decade, can you share your ideal man? Give some of us some hope (laughs).

A: I don’t really have a type, man. I like intelligence and wit and kindness. I’m pretty basic that way. I can’t explain what catches my eye because it seems to change every time. I’ve been with guys who were vastly different, from a broker in the London Stock Exchange to a drummer in a Brazilian metal band. I don’t limit myself.

O: So no teasers on who we might next see you with?

A: Not really. All I can offer right now is that I’m looking for someone who sees beyond Alec Lightwood in all capital letters. I’m just a guy and when I do fall for someone it’s going to be real. Who knows when that will happen but I’m in no rush. I have a lot on my plate and things will happen when they’re meant to.

O: With that last statement, let’s end things with a fun tidbit. What’s the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened on tour?

A: Embarrassing, huh? That’s certainly a different direction. There was that time in Dublin that I ripped my pants and my cartoon underwear showed for almost the entire concert and I didn’t know. But, I think I’d have to say that the most embarrassing thing that ever happened on stage was when I fell. It was an open arena and it was raining. Not too hard, but enough to make things slippery. I was in the middle of the dramatic chorus when I slipped like a cartoon on a banana peel. Everything was silent for a moment before I got my breath and stood up. By ass hurt like hell but I was only halfway through the set. I could feel my blush for the rest of the concert. It was awful.

O: And on that note, thank you Alec for agreeing to talk with Out Magazine.

We talked for a few more minutes, informally, before I had to leave for my next appointment. Alec was ushered by a photographer right after I left for the spread you can see in the following pages.

Lightwood is a powerhouse. He has the voice of a generation and a kind heart. He’s self deprecating and one doesn’t get the impression that he’s just another stuck-up celebrity out of touch with the average person. By all accounts, his fans are rabid over him and it’s not hard to see why. He’s a professional at all costs and is always engaging with fans on social media. With over eighty million followers on Twitter and Instagram, it’s undeniable that Alec has built an admirable foundation of support.

Watching behind the scenes videos and fan blogs, it’s obvious that there’s a rapport between Alec and his fans that not every artist is fortunate enough to have-- or cares enough to curate. There’s respect and love from both sides.

Alec Lightwood isn’t just a pretty face. He works as hard as his discography and grueling schedule indicates. The day we had the interview, Alec had a meeting with his record company board and met with the people at ABC for his Good Morning America appearance. His day didn’t end until almost dawn, as the photoshoot took hours after our sparse dinner. But Lightwood didn’t complain. A trooper, he seemed genuinely interested in our conversation and from what the photographer and wardrobe team told me, he took direction well and had fun with the shoot-- even though he had been up for almost twenty four hours at that point.

Alec Lightwood is an enigmatic man. He guards his life zealously. Everyone sees him stumbling out of clubs with a different guy on his arm every week. Everyone has seen his interviews and fans catch glimpses of the man behind the scenes, but that’s all they are. Brief looks into the private life of America’s favorite celebrity.

It makes one wonder about what lies beneath the surface. From our conversation, Alec had a wit and bluntness that’s admirable in the upper echelons of America’s darlings. He has a brother that owns an award-winning gym in Brooklyn with a mile-long waiting list and a sister that’s featured on countless magazine covers herself-- Isabelle Lightwood is set to appear in the Victoria’s Secret show in the fall and has racked up quite a following of her own.

This family is determined and, above all, generous. It’s been a pleasure watching Lightwood grow from the somewhat awkward teen to the self-assured man he is now, comfortable with his fame and the scrutiny of millions. This is the second time Lightwood has graced our Magazine’s cover and it’s always a delight. I, and the team at Out Magazine, wish Alec Lightwood all the luck on his next album. We can’t wait to hear it!

An Arrow in the dark, Lightwood’s sixth studio album and latest release, is out now and can be found online and in-store at a variety of merchants. See below for more details.

At the time of press, Chocolate Raspberry, his latest single, had sold over five million copies and was topping the charts at No. 1.

Word on the street has it that fans can expect another single to drop soon-- the acoustic and dark-toned Empty Hearts.

[clumsyclifford]

hello!! i am back and on desktop this time. the blog is just as pretty. alex + yellow = v v attractive jfc. this is a long one so buckle in.

to begin: i hope you have the most fun on your day road trip and sing your heart out to atl and taylor swift. i love driving long distances and idk just driving in general is fun. have the absolute best time MWAH

my birthday is in november!! november 23 to be specific. i share it with miley cyrus which is something i always found to be very cool when i was growing up and watching hannah montana. it also means i am a sagittarius and funny little fact i realized is that my best friend is a gemini. alex and jack are also a sagittarius and a gemini. from being 13 i know that tyler and josh from twenty one pilots are also a sagittarius and a gemini. something about sagittarius and gemini besties idk.

also yeah!! ao3 year in review!! it's a bit complicated to figure out at first and if you read a lot the finding pages thing can be pretty tedious, but it's def worth it once you figure it out. it gives you a lot of different stats about everything you read and it's pretty cool. now i am going to go look at your fics to remember my favs. you deserve the praise so i am willing to offer it. jeez you write a lot i respect the motivation sm. you write quite a bit of angst and i won't lie i try to stay away from angst so i haven't read your fics that seem super angst-y based on the tags. BUT there are still so many i recall reading and loving nonetheless. on a quick scroll-through: i usually don't read high school AUs but "paint me in trust (i'll be your best friend)" was super adorable and lovely. "thank god i'm yours" is one of my favs iirc. also i love love love "it's not always easy (but i'm here forever)" like yes please romanticize alex gaskarth i love it sm. "i won't be silent (and i won't let go)" and "i fell asleep in a city that doesn't" are both super fluffy and romantic and are favs of mine. in case you haven't picked up on it i adore very fluffy and romantic fics lmao. alright i am continuing to scroll and there are so many more i could list that i love but this section is getting quite long. just know if it's about a kitchen or hotel rooms being for lovers i probably read it and adored it and that pov is so valid.

waterparks!! will not lie i only really started listening to them about 6 months ago having been distantly aware of their existence for several years by being a fan of bands in the same genre. listen as long as you let yourself be vaguely annoyed by awsten is prevents you from being in love with him. follow him on any social media platform for like a day and you'll be sick of him typing in nothing but all caps within hours. simply do not romanticize him and you can keep yourself from falling!! so this is coming from a slightly fake parx fan, but some of my favs by them have been peach (lobotomy), crave, numb, fuzzy, violet!, you'd be paranoid too, and lowkey as hell. that is a very songs-from-their-most-recent-album-heavy rec, but whatever. i did give the disclaimer about being a fake parx fan.

yeah hayley does have 2 solo albums now!! petals for armor and flowers for vases / descansos. pfa is the one i didn't really like upon first listen but has grown on me. i haven't even listened to the second one in its entirety oops but we won't mention it. dead horse is good but simmer (pretty sure that was the other single??) just ain't it for me. the album has some lovely songs but it's just a hit or miss album all the way through. some favs of mine on it include pure love, taken, crystal clear, watch me while i bloom, and why we ever. it's sorta a storyline album about healing if that adds anything to it?? but anyways. i started listening to paramore around the time after laughter dropped and it grew to be one of my fav albums in existence. idle worship is probably one of my fav songs like ever. i def understand being slightly put off by bands with songs that make religious references (me with twenty one pilots' earlier music that makes a lot more religious references considering i'm not religious whatsoever) but i think i am blinded by being in love with hayley williams and just ignore it. idk that she's like super religious?? she's addressed believing in god and stuff a few times but she's def not the "rub it in your face" type and if she's making refs in music more recently then they're subtle enough i'm not noticing them. ik albums like brand new eyes had a lot more because it was shortly after that the band split and the songwriting process was essentially her and ex-bandmate co-songwriter arguing about their religious beliefs (turns out he ended up being super homophobic and transphobic all based on his religion so do with that what u will and thank the clown for leaving). i feel u on the "i meant to start listening to them" because that's essentially how i started listening to them. i told myself i was going to and then finally forced myself to do it. fuck falling for awsten knight what's more risky is falling in love with hayley </3

also yeah!! you've articulated my feelings towards tde. every song is so vastly different that it's hard to like it all. #1 fan is pretty decent though, and that's not just my bias about finding both ross and his gf hot and a cute couple and getting to see them together and ross half naked in a mirror in the video nope not at all. he's my fav himbo!! he has no personality!! no thoughts head empty!! i still love him and his strawberry-growing saga on twitter tho <3 the hazard of being in love with ross lynch since i was 12. girlfriend better be a fucking banger and there's quite a few already released singles in the tracklist so i have hope. i believe my show is in chicago on november 19 which is a thursday. kinda sucks since i intentionally bought the chicago tix nearly two years ago (the show was originally supposed to be april 25 2020. lol.) because the show was on a saturday and i have to drive 3 hours to get there. obviously i can't speak for them as tde but r5 shows always fucking slapped and i can vouch for them (realized i haven't seem them live since 2016?? 5 YEARS?? wtf) so if u genuinely like them. would recommend going to see them.

anyways. i have not listened to luke's solo album yet. i plan on it. this has gotten so long but i tried to respond in all areas and even organized it in different paragraphs this time (thanks being on desktop!!). hope you are well. hope you have a lovely day. hmm what's a little "going on in my life" fact. i got new glasses a few days ago and my eyes essentially said fuck off because adjusting to the new prescription has left me with eyes that hurt and occasionally slightly nauseous. here is to hoping my eyes get their shit together. mwah LOVE YOU TOO - the other bella/cubs anon/idk

okay hi hello. i have put this off because holy hell it's long but let's do it. i am putting a cut because this whole thing is long even without my answer

first: the road trip was super fun thank you!!! i am intrigued by this information regarding sags and geminis, we should do some scientific inquiry. enquiry. i don't know if there's a difference between those words.

aha! well i tried the ao3 year in review thing and i would say it had about 55% accuracy but still i agree it's fun to look back at that kind of stuff. and i feel you on the angst thing i go through phases of writing angst-heavy stuff and then writing very fluffy stuff and it is entirely based on my mental state buuuut i have lots of fluff and i'm glad you found it all and that you liked it yay <333 KITCHENS ARE FOR LOVERS i will die on that fuckin hill. hotel rooms as well but primarily kitchens.

dfgjhgdlfkhgdfmj honestly i dont use twitter enough that i would see his tweets enough that that would bother me also the fact that he tweets in all caps means that i just picture him yelling everything he tweets which i find absolutely hysterical so i don't think that would help. i have added these parx songs to my listen asap playlist and will get to them when i get a chance thank you i am excited also i already know lowkey as hell and it slaps super hard so im very much lookin forward to the rest of these. merci merci

YEAH simmer was the one i didnt vibe with. and honestly i feel zero compulsion to get into hayley williams as a solo artist. i just don't vibe enough to want to do that so i doubt i'll be listening to her anytime soon but maybe if i hear the songs in passing or get super bored one night, idk who can really say. but yeah christianity typically puts me off of music (speaking as a very jewish bitch) although there are notable exceptions in the cases of thomas rhett and the driver era. i'm just not attached to hayley enough to be like ehhh this doesnt matter. does that make sense

FAVORITE HIMBO PLEASE HGSDFGDFGKLFGJ i dont follow him on twitter but i have seen some interviews of ross and rocky and tbh they're great i love the way ross speaks like i like his speech mannerisms and i like his FACE and HAIR and. yeah. i think hes pretty. and i think he and 5sos SHOULD collab i think that would be sexy as hell. can you imagine that. oh my god can you imagine a ross lynch/luke hemmings collab. i'm not even really talking to you anymore bella because i know you haven't listened to luke yet and don't have a stake in it but if anyone else is reading this long ass answer. ross & luke collab. okay im going to move on and not think about that now. but i probably won't see tde unless i get a job this semester because i'm trying to stop spending so much money on big indulgent things like concerts likeee i was in a really good habit of not spending that much and then suddenly i got paid for one summer and i was just goin Crazy and i need to dial it back. plus i wanna see ajr and noah kahan equally bad so like. i have to make some calls about priorities here. it's Much to think about

good luck to your eyes i'm sure your new glasses are hella cute tho!!! LOVE YOUUUUUUU

[tjd-art]

My Top 10 Songs of 2018

(Honorable Mentions: mewithoutYou - Julia, Gouge Away - Subtle Thrill, Cult Leader - I Am Healed, Can’t Swim - What Have We Done?, Hot Mulligan - Wes Dault Can’t Find the Madison Falcon).

10. Light Years - Back Then from the album "Afterlife"

This song won't be the first on the list that makes it on here purely because I'm a total sucker for catchy pop punk choruses. Something about the way the verses sound like old-school, Blink-esque pop punk, but the chorus sounds a bit more like the modern take on the genre--it's appealing to me. The first time I heard the song, I totally didn't expect the chorus to go in that direction. It's a better song for it, because I wasn't totally sold on the verses until then due to the cliche lyrics. But it won me over, especially once the album released.

9. Basement - Slip Away from the album "Beside Myself"

I hope this doesn't end up being a slept-on song off the record. It's leaps and bounds the best the record has to offer in my opinion. I love Basement, but if there's one thing that holds them back (at least in my own personal taste), it's that they sometimes feel a bit too low energy, even when the songs seem like they should be high energy. There's just a bit of a ...Disconnect ... But with this song that isn't the case, this one's pummeling energy all the way through. The amazing bendy guitar lead that accompanies much of the song adds to that intensity.

8. Like Pacific - Self Defeated from the album "In Spite of Me"

This song had me excited for the album unlike I'd ever expected. As soon as I got some similar vibes to A Day To Remember (my favorite artist), I desperately hoped the rest of the album would stack up. Unfortunately the rest didn't stack up to this single, so I especially had to shout out this song since the simply decent album simply won't place too highly for me. This song shines as one of the best Like Pacific songs, the moody main guitar lick that the song begins with grabbing my attention right away.

7. Daughters - Guest House from the album "You Won't Get What You Want"

This song is one of the most effectively horrifying pieces of music I've ever heard that wasn't you know, just a straight up horror soundtrack. And this could be more horrifying than that still. On an album that is almost entirely made up of more of this type of fear-inducing music, this song stands out as the most harrowing in my opinion. And that's saying something. The final shouts of "I'VE BEEN KNOCKING AND KNOCKING AND KNOCKING... LET ME IN!" (1:13) are so nauseatingly panic-inducing that it strikes me as masterful. We're used to the most effective of horror movies not being for the faint of heart, well, this song is not for the faint of heart. And to end the whole album out, the song ends with some of the most peaceful (comparatively) sounds of the album. It's really got it all.

6. Idles - I’m Scum from the album "Joy as an Act of Resistance"

Have the people who say politics should be kept out of music ever heard a punk song? This song's a badass battlecry for all the snowflake over-tippering "scum" like Idles and myself to come together and become something, perhaps make change, together. There are several songs on the album that are perhaps tackling more specific problems and also deserving of being on this list (Danny Nedelko and Samaritans being other favorites), but I picked "I'm Scum" for its tune and having perhaps my favorite line on the album. This snowflake's an avalanche.

5. Snail Mail - Heat Wave from the album "Lush"

On first few listens of the album, it was "Full Control" that stuck out, but over time "Heat Wave" became the best experience on the album. Released in the summer, listening to Heat Wave actually began to sound like dragging along through like slow and lazy in the heat, and the sensory experience was all there. I just had to turn off the space-heater thinking about those times. It's one of those songs that feels steeped in nostalgia even though it's only a few months old. The climactic finish after the final chorus is where it shines, just when you think the song might be over, the energy comes back, "lush" and satisfying.

4. The Wonder Years - It Must Get Lonely from the album "Sister Cities"

This was my most anticipated album of the year. My one worry going into the album was that The Wonder Years might have a bit too much of the laid-back without the balance of the loud, driving force that is the other end of their dynamic spectrum. (Past songs like Cigarettes & Saints, The Devil in my Bloodstream being good examples of that balance). The Wonder Years is one of the most impressively dynamic bands in the genre, and I didn't want them to lose that. This song was the first on the album that blew me away in that regard. Incredibly sorrowful moments lie here, vivid imagery of being away in another city. On first listen I felt underwhelmed by the chorus, and it all sounded a bit too sweet. What I didn't realize was that was that it was all a buildup, and by the end it all makes sense when the words burst through "It must get obvious enough that I'm not ever gonna change." This songs flows incredibly, and I now love it beginning to end.

3. Tiny Moving Parts - Wildfire from the album "Swell"

TMP was never thought of as one of my favorites, just a band I liked. Songs like this changed that. This is another song I hope doesn't get left underappreciated. There is a joyous, yet bittersweet glow of this song and it permeates through all of "Swell." As sad as the lyrics can be, I feel a lot of warmth here. (Fitting with a name like Wildfire). It feels like the song has two halves, the almost bouncy feel of the first part in triple time, with what I'd call the chorus being the first highlight. Then there's the heartbreaking and anthemic second half that is impossible not to want to shout along to. I'll admit there's a corniness to some of the lyrics and the style of singing, but all of it is so endearing to me.

2. Jeff Rosenstock - USA from the album "POST-"

It was the first of the year 2018 when this song was released. USA was the first song I heard, and it really felt like a good sign. That it must be a good year for music if the first song I hear, the first song I knew to be released that year period, as this good. The song is almost too good to be the first song on the album, nothing after it even stands a chance (not that it isn't also great). With most of Jeff Rosenstock's songs on past albums being on the shorter side, it was interesting to hear what he could do in the somewhat lengthy 7 and a half minutes. Does the punk style work for that long? Well it does, and the result is a contender for my favorite Jeff Rosenstock song, and for approaching best song I've heard all year. It culminates at a peak somehow better than everything that happened prior, continuing with "We're tired! We're bored!" (But this time louder!) The feelings of being so dumbfounded, dejected, grief-stricken, exhausted after a certain election permeated still for so long that the meaning of the song seemed apparent even if it wasn't too obvious. It's an incredible punk anthem for the feeling of betrayal in the country we want to love. Et tu, USA.

1. The Story So Far - Proper Dose from the album "Proper Dose"

Remember what I said about catchy pop punk choruses? This one does it as good as it gets. I had my worries about this album in general, and none of those mattered when this opening track came through strong, hitting hardest with "all this time I want to give you back." There are a lot of incredible songs on this album ("Keep This Up" is good enough to tie with this song, both this that that being the most listened to songs of the year for me). But I went with the opener title track for having that completely irresistible chorus, the kind that makes The Story So Far a band I've loved and followed for so long, but also carrying a tone that carries through the album that this opens. That tone is of letting go of some of the ego that drove many of their past songs and looking at the hurt caused. The reconciliation with the hurt he may have caused was so refreshing to hear from this band. It makes the song both an unbelievably catchy--I'll say it--banger, but also a deeply heartbreaking cry about the time lost that could've been for loved ones, about life going by and wasting it on the proper doses of other things. Somehow it manages to effectively convey those longing feelings, while also begging for jumping around, shouting along, and some of that classic TSSF finger pointing (even if this time it's at yourself). It's a song that doesn't last long, but packs a punch and the simple yet effective melodies that I love this band for. It's a shining example of what they're like at their best.

So that's my Top 10 songs of 2018!

[ed-hale]

Music magazine Bandcamp Diaries just released an interview with Ed Hale, along with a review of the singer’s upcoming new album So For Real. Reprinted below. Ed Hale – So For Real Ed Hale is an artist with a genuine passion for appealing and personal music, which borrows from different genres and influences. The sound of his most recent studio effort, “So For Real”, echoes the depth of classic rock music with the edgy spark of modern alternative – Think The Beatles jamming with Rufus Wainwright, trying to cover a Coldplay song! Ed’s songwriting is richly nuanced, detailed and catchy, and “So For Real” offers an incredibly diverse creative scope, which speaks volumes about the artist’s fantastic journey through music and compositional vision. Based in NYC, one of the most exciting music towns in the world, Ed is all about pouring his heart into his music, but his tracks are fueled by more than just some awesome arrangements. The artist stands out with a really special approach to production, with a sound that feels clear and sophisticated, yet warm and organic. In other words, the tracks are super catchy, but there are multiple layers that make things a lot more interesting. In addition to the world-class production aesthetics, the album is also lifted up by the artist’s remarkable performance, displaying a very dynamic vocal style that brings energy and vibrancy to the table, seamlessly blurring the lines between different styles and ideas. This particular release is full of warmth and electricity, and it has a very positive and uplifting vibe, like it’s first track, the hit single “Summer Flowers”. Ed immediately stands out for his beautiful voice and for his uncanny ability to convey a lot of emotion in his phrasing. His vocal style and tone are a perfect match with the tracks on this album, making for a really interesting and engaging sound. We also had the chance to ask Ed a few questions! Check out our interview with him below: I love how you manage to render your tracks so personal and organic. Does the melody come first, or do you focus on the beat the most? Great question. Sometimes the melodies just appear in my head… Like idle conversation in the back of your mind. I’ll notice it and then try to work it out with an instrument. Kind of like listening to a radio in your head. Other times It’ll happen if I pick up some instrument and just fiddle around on it, a groove will start developing and I just follow that groove, curious where it wants to go, like catching a wave… but patiently, so I never force it… It’s more like I’m just surfing on that groove for the thrill of the ride, to see where it’s headed, hoping that something really cool will come out of it. Do you perform live? If so, do you feel more comfortable on a stage or within the walls of the recording studio? Yeah, I know, it’s been a while for us since we hit the stage. I LOVE being on stage with the guys. We’ve been together now for like 16 years… So we can pretty much read each other’s minds when we’re playing together. And I just love them as people, so I love being with them, no matter what we’re doing. But making music together definitely creates a really magical thing… And when the audience starts getting into it, that makes the whole vibe lift up to that whole other level, like when the mood in the place starts to lift up into this transcendent elevated place that’s very special. But you know, we’re definitely more album-focused than a lot of bands. I mean, we’re not kidding anybody at this point. We could have spent the last three years on the road like a lot of our friends did. But instead we spent it in different studios recording all these new tracks. LOL! We went in to record a “new album” and didn’t leave till we finished 38 tracks! So yeah I guess we’re just overly obsessed with trying to capture some incredible new treasure in the studio. But now it’s definitely time to get back out and reconnect with our tribe. If you could only pick one song to make a “first impression” on a new listener, which song would you pick and why? That’s a really hard question! I mean, I could pick a handful… But to choose just one? It’s a great question though. It makes you think…. The thing about us is that we don’t have one specific style we make… So if you try to pick just one song, you’re going to end up giving the impression that we make THAT style of music… Which of course, we don’t, because we’re all over the place stylistically. But if you had a gun and were like going to shoot me right now unless I answered you, I’d just shout out “Okay fine! It’s either the song “Caetano” or “Softening” or“After Tomorrow”! Those songs really still move me. And they’re not even new. And they’re not even our biggest hits. They’re from older albums… and kind of obscure to most people. But when I listen to them they still get me high, and give me chills. What does it take to be “innovative” in music? Man I don’t know… I get so wrapped up in that question sometimes and the guys have to grab my feet and start pulling me back down to earth, like “Yo yo Ed we’re not trying to invent a new physics equation here bro! We’re just trying to create beautiful music that other people can enjoy.” I get super into and excited about the whole “Come on guys! Let’s get in there and create something totally fresh and unique and insane sounding!!!” And that’s a good thing I think. As long as your bandmates can help balance you out. You know… To me, doing that all comes down to trying new things you’ve never done before. Man I wouldn’t be who I am today if I hadn’t started fucking around with the tuning pegs on my guitars looking for something new and fresh, out of just this totally frustrating boredom with how normal and same things were sounding all the time. I know it drives the guys crazy, because I have to bring like 8 guitars on stage because each one is tuned to a different open tuning I use. But just the SOUND that creates can be SO fresh and invigorating as an listener that it inspires you…. you end up writing something that you normally never would or could. It’s risk taking, that’s what I’m saying. You have to go in and take these huge risks. Even if you’re going to fail and it’s going to suck. And then also commitment. You can’t quit or give up when you’re out there on that ledge about to crash and look like an idiot. You have to be willing to keep on going once you start trying something new. Like all those beat-boxes and samplers that Korg makes, they’re not easy to work at first. They’re frustrating. But they’re fucking great if you stick with it and keep getting better at playing them. You can INNOVATE on them. Any upcoming release or tour your way? Well you already know about the new album about to drop, SO FOR REAL. That comes out in late August. And behind that we have two more that are ready. The one we’re really excited about is the BORN TO LOSE album, because that’s the one we went in originally to record. But it ended up turning out so dark and depressing that we stayed in the studio and kept recording. SO FOR REAL is like all the songs that had more of an upbeat pop feel to them. So we decided to release that one first, just to not bring people down. LOL! But BORN TO LOSE is really deep and thick. It takes you places emotionally. By the end you’re just mush. That’ll come out this fall. And then ANOTHER DAY IN THE APOCALYPSE is where we put all the songs that were more socially-political or intellectual or angry, like all the most shocking protest songs ended up going on that one. Just to preserve the vibe of the other two…. There was this artist who approached us after hearing the title of that song and she sent us this giant mural she had painted of the song’s title… and it’s super colorful and visually engaging, filled with all this apocalyptic and symbolic stuff. So we decided to use her painting for the album’s artwork and we actually worked off that visual of her’s and used it as inspiration…. I didn’t let myself get worried about what people would think about the lyrics. I just let it rip and said what I really wanted to, what I felt in my heart of hearts. And sometimes it came out pretty crazy, controversial I guess… But it’s very real. We’ll release the first single from that one pretty soon. Once SO FOR REAL comes out. Anywhere online where curious fans can listen to your music and find out more about you? I would say Facebook I guess ( facebook.com/edhalemusic ) It’s probably the best place, because it’s personal. There’s no bs there. It’s real. It’s me, being me and doing what I do. It’s not our record label or any PR company. So it’s a great way to have real connection with what’s going on every day. And a lot of fans like reading the Transcendence Diaries, where I blog. I try to post something there every day. via Ed Hale

[thebandcampdiaries]

Ed Hale - So For Real

Ed Hale is an artist with a genuine passion for appealing and personal music, which borrows from different genres and influences. The sound of his most recent studio effort, “So For Real”, echoes the depth of classic rock music with the edgy spark of modern alternative - Think The Beatles jamming with Rufus Wainwright, trying to cover a Coldplay song!

Ed’s songwriting is richly nuanced, detailed and catchy, and “So For Real” offers an incredibly diverse creative scope, which speaks volumes about the artist’s fantastic journey through music and compositional vision.

Based in NYC, one of the most exciting music towns in the world, Ed is all about pouring his heart into his music, but his track are fueled by more than just some awesome arrangements. The artist stands out wit a really special approach to production, with a sound that feels clear and sophisticated, yet warm and organic. In other words, the track is super catchy, but there are multiple layers that make things a lot more interesting. In addition to the world-class production aesthetics, the song is also lifted up the the artist’s remarkable performance, displaying a very dynamic vocal style that brings energy and vibrancy to the table, seamlessly blurring the lines between different styles and ideas.

This particular release is full of warmth and electricity, and it has a very positive and uplifting vibe. Ed immediately stands out for his beautiful voice and for his uncanny ability to convey a lot of emotion in his phrasing. His vocal style and tone are a perfect match with the tracks on this album, making for a really interesting and direct sound.

Find out more about Ed Hale, and do not miss out on “So For Real” and other releases from this talented artist:

https://www.facebook.com/edhalemusic/

We also had the chance to ask Ed a few questions! Check out our interview below:

I love how you manage to render your tracks so personal and organic. Does the melody come first, or do you focus on the beat the most?

Answer: Great question. Sometimes the melodies just appear in my head… Like idle conversation in the back of your mind. I’ll notice it and then try to work it out with an instrument. Kind of like listening to a radio in your head. Other times It’ll happen if I pick up some instrument and just fiddle around on it, a groove will start developing and I just follow that groove, curious where it wants to go, like catching a wave… but patiently, so I never force it… It’s more like I’m just surfing on that groove for the thrill of the ride, to see where it’s headed, hoping that something really cool will come out of it.

Do you perform live? If so, do you feel more comfortable on a stage or within the walls of the recording studio?

Answer: Yeah, I know, it’s been a while for us since we hit the stage. I LOVE being on stage with the guys. We’ve been together now for like 16 years… So we can pretty much read each other’s minds when we’re playing together. And I just love them as people, so I love being with them, no matter what we’re doing. But making music together definitely creates a really magical thing… And when the audience starts getting into it, that makes the whole vibe lift up to that whole other level, like when the mood in the place starts to lift up into this transcendent elevated place that’s very special. But you know, we’re definitely more album-focused than a lot of bands. I mean, we’re not kidding anybody at this point. We could have spent the last three years on the road like a lot of our friends did. But instead we spent it in different studios recording all these new tracks. LOL! We went in to record a “new album” and didn’t leave till we finished 38 tracks! So yeah I guess we’re just overly obsessed with trying to capture some incredible new treasure in the studio. But now it’s definitely time to get back out and reconnect with our tribe.

If you could only pick one song to make a “first impression” on a new listener, which song would you pick and why?

Answer: That’s a really hard question! I mean, I could pick a handful… But to choose just one? It’s a great question though. It makes you think…. The thing about us is that we don’t have one specific style we make… So if you try to pick just one song, you’re going to end up giving the impression that we make THAT style of music… Which of course, we don’t, because we’re all over the place stylistically. But if you had a gun and were like going to shoot me right now unless I answered you, I’d just shout out “Okay fine! It’s either the song “Caetano” or “Softening” or “After Tomorrow”! Those songs really still move me. And they’re not even new. And they’re not even our biggest hits. They’re from older albums… and kind of obscure to most people. But when I listen to them they still get me high, and give me chills.

What does it take to be “innovative” in music?

Answer: Man I don’t know… I get so wrapped up in that question sometimes and the guys have to grab my feet and start pulling me back down to earth, like “Yo yo Ed we’re not trying to invent a new physics equation here bro! We’re just trying to create beautiful music that other people can enjoy.” I get super into and excited about the whole “Come on guys! Let’s get in there and create something totally fresh and unique and insane sounding!!!” And that’s a good thing I think. As long as your bandmates can help balance you out. You know… To me, doing that all comes down to trying new things you’ve never done before. Man I wouldn’t be who I am today if I hadn’t started fucking around with the tuning pegs on my guitars looking for something new and fresh, out of just this totally frustrating boredom with how normal and same things were sounding all the time. I know it drives the guys crazy, because I have to bring like 8 guitars on stage because each one is tuned to a different open tuning I use. But just the SOUND that creates can be SO fresh and invigorating as an listener that it inspires you…. you end up writing something that you normally never would or could. It’s risk taking, that’s what I’m saying. You have to go in and take these huge risks. Even if you’re going to fail and it’s going to suck. And then also commitment. You can’t quit or give up when you’re out there on that ledge about to crash and look like an idiot. You have to be willing to keep on going once you start trying something new. Like all those beat-boxes and samplers that Korg makes, they’re not easy to work at first. They’re frustrating. But they’re fucking great if you stick with it and keep getting better at playing them. You can INNOVATE on them.

Any upcoming release or tour your way?

Answer: Well you already know about the new album about to drop, SO FOR REAL. That comes out in late August. And behind that we have two more that are ready. The one we’re really excited about is the BORN TO LOSE album, because that’s the one we went in originally to record. But it ended up turning out so dark and depressing that we stayed in the studio and kept recording. SO FOR REAL is like all the songs that had more of an upbeat pop feel to them. So we decided to release that one first, just to not bring people down. LOL! But BORN TO LOSE is really deep and thick. It takes you places emotionally. By the end you’re just mush. That’ll come out this fall. And then ANOTHER DAY IN THE APOCALYPSE is where we put all the songs that were more socially-political or intellectual or angry, like all the most shocking protest songs ended up going on that one. Just to preserve the vibe of the other two…. There was this artist who approached us after hearing the title of that song and she sent us this giant mural she had painted of the song’s title… and it’s super colorful and visually engaging, filled with all this apocalyptic and symbolic stuff. So we decided to use her painting for the album’s artwork and we actually worked off that visual of her’s and used it as inspiration…. I didn’t let myself get worried about what people would think about the lyrics. I just let it rip and said what I really wanted to, what I felt in my heart of hearts. And sometimes it came out pretty crazy, controversial I guess… But it’s very real. We’ll release the first single from that one pretty soon. Once SO FOR REAL comes out.  

Anywhere online where curious fans can listen to your music and find out more about you?

Answer: I would say Facebook –( facebook.com/edhalemusic ) is probably the best place, because there’s no bs there. It’s real. It’s me, the real me, being me and doing what I do. It’s not our record label or any PR company. So it’s a great way to have real connection with what’s going on every day. And a lot of fans like reading the Transcendence Diaries, where I blog. I try to post something there every day. ( transcendencediaries.net ) .

[mraesop-stories]

About Love

AT lunch next day there were very nice pies, crayfish, and mutton cutlets; and while we were eating, Nikanor, the cook, came up to ask what the visitors would like for dinner. He was a man of medium height, with a puffy face and little eyes; he was close-shaven, and it looked as though his moustaches had not been shaved, but had been pulled out by the roots. Alehin told us that the beautiful Pelagea was in love with this cook. As he drank and was of a violent character, she did not want to marry him, but was willing to live with him without. He was very devout, and his religious convictions would not allow him to "live in sin"; he insisted on her marrying him, and would consent to nothing else, and when he was drunk he used to abuse her and even beat her. Whenever he got drunk she used to hide upstairs and sob, and on such occasions Alehin and the servants stayed in the house to be ready to defend her in case of necessity.

We began talking about love.

"How love is born," said Alehin, "why Pelagea does not love somebody more like herself in her spiritual and external qualities, and why she fell in love with Nikanor, that ugly snout -- we all call him 'The Snout' -- how far questions of personal happiness are of consequence in love -- all that is known; one can take what view one likes of it. So far only one incontestable truth has been uttered about love: 'This is a great mystery.' Everything else that has been written or said about love is not a conclusion, but only a statement of questions which have remained unanswered. The explanation which would seem to fit one case does not apply in a dozen others, and the very best thing, to my mind, would be to explain every case individually without attempting to generalize. We ought, as the doctors say, to individualize each case."

"Perfectly true," Burkin assented.

"We Russians of the educated class have a partiality for these questions that remain unanswered. Love is usually poeticized, decorated with roses, nightingales; we Russians decorate our loves with these momentous questions, and select the most uninteresting of them, too. In Moscow, when I was a student, I had a friend who shared my life, a charming lady, and every time I took her in my arms she was thinking what I would allow her a month for housekeeping and what was the price of beef a pound. In the same way, when we are in love we are never tired of asking ourselves questions: whether it is honourable or dishonourable, sensible or stupid, what this love is leading up to, and so on. Whether it is a good thing or not I don't know, but that it is in the way, unsatisfactory, and irritating, I do know."

It looked as though he wanted to tell some story. People who lead a solitary existence always have something in their hearts which they are eager to talk about. In town bachelors visit the baths and the restaurants on purpose to talk, and sometimes tell the most interesting things to bath attendants and waiters; in the country, as a rule, they unbosom themselves to their guests. Now from the window we could see a grey sky, trees drenched in the rain; in such weather we could go nowhere, and there was nothing for us to do but to tell stories and to listen.

"I have lived at Sofino and been farming for a long time," Alehin began, "ever since I left the University. I am an idle gentleman by education, a studious person by disposition; but there was a big debt owing on the estate when I came here, and as my father was in debt partly because he had spent so much on my education, I resolved not to go away, but to work till I paid off the debt. I made up my mind to this and set to work, not, I must confess, without some repugnance. The land here does not yield much, and if one is not to farm at a loss one must employ serf labour or hired labourers, which is almost the same thing, or put it on a peasant footing -- that is, work the fields oneself and with one's family. There is no middle path. But in those days I did not go into such subtleties. I did not leave a clod of earth unturned; I gathered together all the peasants, men and women, from the neighbouring villages; the work went on at a tremendous pace. I myself ploughed and sowed and reaped, and was bored doing it, and frowned with disgust, like a village cat driven by hunger to eat cucumbers in the kitchen-garden. My body ached, and I slept as I walked. At first it seemed to me that I could easily reconcile this life of toil with my cultured habits; to do so, I thought, all that is necessary is to maintain a certain external order in life. I established myself upstairs here in the best rooms, and ordered them to bring me there coffee and liquor after lunch and dinner, and when I went to bed I read every night the Yyesnik Evropi. But one day our priest, Father Ivan, came and drank up all my liquor at one sitting; and the Yyesnik Evropi went to the priest's daughters; as in the summer, especially at the haymaking, I did not succeed in getting to my bed at all, and slept in the sledge in the barn, or somewhere in the forester's lodge, what chance was there of reading? Little by little I moved downstairs, began dining in the servants' kitchen, and of my former luxury nothing is left but the servants who were in my father's service, and whom it would be painful to turn away.

"In the first years I was elected here an honourary justice of the peace. I used to have to go to the town and take part in the sessions of the congress and of the circuit court, and this was a pleasant change for me. When you live here for two or three months without a break, especially in the winter, you begin at last to pine for a black coat. And in the circuit court there were frock-coats, and uniforms, and dress-coats, too, all lawyers, men who have received a general education; I had some one to talk to. After sleeping in the sledge and dining in the kitchen, to sit in an arm-chair in clean linen, in thin boots, with a chain on one's waistcoat, is such luxury!

"I received a warm welcome in the town. I made friends eagerly. And of all my acquaintanceships the most intimate and, to tell the truth, the most agreeable to me was my acquaintance with Luganovitch, the vice-president of the circuit court. You both know him: a most charming personality. It all happened just after a celebrated case of incendiarism; the preliminary investigation lasted two days; we were exhausted. Luganovitch looked at me and said:

" 'Look here, come round to dinner with me.'

"This was unexpected, as I knew Luganovitch very little, only officially, and I had never been to his house. I only just went to my hotel room to change and went off to dinner. And here it was my lot to meet Anna Alexyevna, Luganovitch's wife. At that time she was still very young, not more than twenty-two, and her first baby had been born just six months before. It is all a thing of the past; and now I should find it difficult to define what there was so exceptional in her, what it was in her attracted me so much; at the time, at dinner, it was all perfectly clear to me. I saw a lovely young, good, intelligent, fascinating woman, such as I had never met before; and I felt her at once some one close and already familiar, as though that face, those cordial, intelligent eyes, I had seen somewhere in my childhood, in the album which lay on my mother's chest of drawers.

"Four Jews were charged with being incendiaries, were regarded as a gang of robbers, and, to my mind, quite groundlessly. At dinner I was very much excited, I was uncomfortable, and I don't know what I said, but Anna Alexyevna kept shaking her head and saying to her husband:

" 'Dmitry, how is this?'

"Luganovitch is a good-natured man, one of those simple-hearted people who firmly maintain the opinion that once a man is charged before a court he is guilty, and to express doubt of the correctness of a sentence cannot be done except in legal form on paper, and not at dinner and in private conversation.

" 'You and I did not set fire to the place,' he said softly, 'and you see we are not condemned, and not in prison.'

"And both husband and wife tried to make me eat and drink as much as possible. From some trifling details, from the way they made the coffee together, for instance, and from the way they understood each other at half a word, I could gather that they lived in harmony and comfort, and that they were glad of a visitor. After dinner they played a duet on the piano; then it got dark, and I went home. That was at the beginning of spring.

"After that I spent the whole summer at Sofino without a break, and I had no time to think of the town, either, but the memory of the graceful fair-haired woman remained in my mind all those days; I did not think of her, but it was as though her light shadow were lying on my heart.

"In the late autumn there was a theatrical performance for some charitable object in the town. I went into the governor's box (I was invited to go there in the interval); I looked, and there was Anna Alexyevna sitting beside the governor's wife; and again the same irresistible, thrilling impression of beauty and sweet, caressing eyes, and again the same feeling of nearness. We sat side by side, then went to the foyer.

" 'You've grown thinner,' she said; 'have you been ill?'

" 'Yes, I've had rheumatism in my shoulder, and in rainy weather I can't sleep.'

" 'You look dispirited. In the spring, when you came to dinner, you were younger, more confident. You were full of eagerness, and talked a great deal then; you were very interesting, and I really must confess I was a little carried away by you. For some reason you often came back to my memory during the summer, and when I was getting ready for the theatre today I thought I should see you.'

"And she laughed.

" 'But you look dispirited today,' she repeated; 'it makes you seem older.'

"The next day I lunched at the Luganovitchs'. After lunch they drove out to their summer villa, in order to make arrangements there for the winter, and I went with them. I returned with them to the town, and at midnight drank tea with them in quiet domestic surroundings, while the fire glowed, and the young mother kept going to see if her baby girl was asleep. And after that, every time I went to town I never failed to visit the Luganovitchs. They grew used to me, and I grew used to them. As a rule I went in unannounced, as though I were one of the family.

" 'Who is there?' I would hear from a faraway room, in the drawling voice that seemed to me so lovely.

" 'It is Pavel Konstantinovitch,' answered the maid or the nurse.

"Anna Alexyevna would come out to me with an anxious face, and would ask every time:

" 'Why is it so long since you have been? Has anything happened?'

"Her eyes, the elegant refined hand she gave me, her indoor dress, the way she did her hair, her voice, her step, always produced the same impression on me of something new and extraordinary in my life, and very important. We talked together for hours, were silent, thinking each our own thoughts, or she played for hours to me on the piano. If there were no one at home I stayed and waited, talked to the nurse, played with the child, or lay on the sofa in the study and read; and when Anna Alexyevna came back I met her in the hall, took all her parcels from her, and for some reason I carried those parcels every time with as much love, with as much solemnity, as a boy.

"There is a proverb that if a peasant woman has no troubles she will buy a pig. The Luganovitchs had no troubles, so they made friends with me. If I did not come to the town I must be ill or something must have happened to me, and both of them were extremely anxious. They were worried that I, an educated man with a knowledge of languages, should, instead of devoting myself to science or literary work, live in the country, rush round like a squirrel in a rage, work hard with never a penny to show for it. They fancied that I was unhappy, and that I only talked, laughed, and ate to conceal my sufferings, and even at cheerful moments when I felt happy I was aware of their searching eyes fixed upon me. They were particularly touching when I really was depressed, when I was being worried by some creditor or had not money enough to pay interest on the proper day. The two of them, husband and wife, would whisper together at the window; then he would come to me and say with a grave face:

" 'If you really are in need of money at the moment, Pavel Konstantinovitch, my wife and I beg you not to hesitate to borrow from us.'

"And he would blush to his ears with emotion. And it would happen that, after whispering in the same way at the window, he would come up to me, with red ears, and say:

" 'My wife and I earnestly beg you to accept this present.'

"And he would give me studs, a cigar-case, or a lamp, and I would send them game, butter, and flowers from the country. They both, by the way, had considerable means of their own. In early days I often borrowed money, and was not very particular about it -- borrowed wherever I could -- but nothing in the world would have induced me to borrow from the Luganovitchs. But why talk of it?

"I was unhappy. At home, in the fields, in the barn, I thought of her; I tried to understand the mystery of a beautiful, intelligent young woman's marrying some one so uninteresting, almost an old man (her husband was over forty), and having children by him; to understand the mystery of this uninteresting, good, simple-hearted man, who argued with such wearisome good sense, at balls and evening parties kept near the more solid people, looking listless and superfluous, with a submissive, uninterested expression, as though he had been brought there for sale, who yet believed in his right to be happy, to have children by her; and I kept trying to understand why she had met him first and not me, and why such a terrible mistake in our lives need have happened.

"And when I went to the town I saw every time from her eyes that she was expecting me, and she would confess to me herself that she had had a peculiar feeling all that day and had guessed that I should come. We talked a long time, and were silent, yet we did not confess our love to each other, but timidly and jealously concealed it. We were afraid of everything that might reveal our secret to ourselves. I loved her tenderly, deeply, but I reflected and kept asking myself what our love could lead to if we had not the strength to fight against it. It seemed to be incredible that my gentle, sad love could all at once coarsely break up the even tenor of the life of her husband, her children, and all the household in which I was so loved and trusted. Would it be honourable? She would go away with me, but where? Where could I take her? It would have been a different matter if I had had a beautiful, interesting life -- if, for instance, I had been struggling for the emancipation of my country, or had been a celebrated man of science, an artist or a painter; but as it was it would mean taking her from one everyday humdrum life to another as humdrum or perhaps more so. And how long would our happiness last? What would happen to her in case I was ill, in case I died, or if we simply grew cold to one another?

"And she apparently reasoned in the same way. She thought of her husband, her children, and of her mother, who loved the husband like a son. If she abandoned herself to her feelings she would have to lie, or else to tell the truth, and in her position either would have been equally terrible and inconvenient. And she was tormented by the question whether her love would bring me happiness -- would she not complicate my life, which, as it was, was hard enough and full of all sorts of trouble? She fancied she was not young enough for me, that she was not industrious nor energetic enough to begin a new life, and she often talked to her husband of the importance of my marrying a girl of intelligence and merit who would be a capable housewife and a help to me -- and she would immediately add that it would be difficult to find such a girl in the whole town.

"Meanwhile the years were passing. Anna Alexyevna already had two children. When I arrived at the Luganovitchs' the servants smiled cordially, the children shouted that Uncle Pavel Konstantinovitch had come, and hung on my neck; every one was overjoyed. They did not understand what was passing in my soul, and thought that I, too, was happy. Every one looked on me as a noble being. And grown-ups and children alike felt that a noble being was walking about their rooms, and that gave a peculiar charm to their manner towards me, as though in my presence their life, too, was purer and more beautiful. Anna Alexyevna and I used to go to the theatre together, always walking there; we used to sit side by side in the stalls, our shoulders touching. I would take the opera-glass from her hands without a word, and feel at that minute that she was near me, that she was mine, that we could not live without each other; but by some strange misunderstanding, when we came out of the theatre we always said good-bye and parted as though we were strangers. Goodness knows what people were saying about us in the town already, but there was not a word of truth in it all!

"In the latter years Anna Alexyevna took to going away for frequent visits to her mother or to her sister; she began to suffer from low spirits, she began to recognize that her life was spoilt and unsatisfied, and at times she did not care to see her husband nor her children. She was already being treated for neurasthenia.

"We were silent and still silent, and in the presence of outsiders she displayed a strange irritation in regard to me; whatever I talked about, she disagreed with me, and if I had an argument she sided with my opponent. If I dropped anything, she would say coldly:

" 'I congratulate you.'

"If I forgot to take the opera-glass when we were going to the theatre, she would say afterwards:

" 'I knew you would forget it.'

"Luckily or unluckily, there is nothing in our lives that does not end sooner or later. The time of parting came, as Luganovitch was appointed president in one of the western provinces. They had to sell their furniture, their horses, their summer villa. When they drove out to the villa, and afterwards looked back as they were going away, to look for the last time at the garden, at the green roof, every one was sad, and I realized that I had to say goodbye not only to the villa. It was arranged that at the end of August we should see Anna Alexyevna off to the Crimea, where the doctors were sending her, and that a little later Luganovitch and the children would set off for the western province.

"We were a great crowd to see Anna Alexyevna off. When she had said good-bye to her husband and her children and there was only a minute left before the third bell, I ran into her compartment to put a basket, which she had almost forgotten, on the rack, and I had to say good-bye. When our eyes met in the compartment our spiritual fortitude deserted us both; I took her in my arms, she pressed her face to my breast, and tears flowed from her eyes. Kissing her face, her shoulders, her hands wet with tears -- oh, how unhappy we were! -- I confessed my love for her, and with a burning pain in my heart I realized how unnecessary, how petty, and how deceptive all that had hindered us from loving was. I understood that when you love you must either, in your reasonings about that love, start from what is highest, from what is more important than happiness or unhappiness, sin or virtue in their accepted meaning, or you must not reason at all.

"I kissed her for the last time, pressed her hand, and parted for ever. The train had already started. I went into the next compartment -- it was empty -- and until I reached the next station I sat there crying. Then I walked home to Sofino. . . ."

While Alehin was telling his story, the rain left off and the sun came out. Burkin and Ivan Ivanovitch went out on the balcony, from which there was a beautiful view over the garden and the mill-pond, which was shining now in the sunshine like a mirror. They admired it, and at the same time they were sorry that this man with the kind, clever eyes, who had told them this story with such genuine feeling, should be rushing round and round this huge estate like a squirrel on a wheel instead of devoting himself to science or something else which would have made his life more pleasant; and they thought what a sorrowful face Anna Alexyevna must have had when he said good-bye to her in the railway-carriage and kissed her face and shoulders. Both of them had met her in the town, and Burkin knew her and thought her beautiful.

[rockinchicagomag]

Nick Cvijovic’s Top 10 of 2017

Nick Cvijovic slings guitar in Chicago punk band, Butchered.

I always love the end of the year because every media publication puts out their top-whatevers for songs, albums, movies, etc. The problem I face every year is that I get super attached to albums that came out the year prior and then tend not listen to anything new throughout the year until the next best-of lists come out. It’s a ridiculous cycle that I am glad to have broken this year. While most of my top listens were all 2016 albums, I did make time for stuff that came out this year. Just a short disclaimer: it is unanimously decided that Damn. by Kendrick Lamar was the best record of 2017. 

I believe it is and everyone should believe it to be as well. It was an incredible work of art both in order and in reverse; however, my list does not contain it. My list represents the albums that meant the most to me throughout 2017 and albums that I will consider classics until the end of music. I played these albums endless amounts of times over the past year so I know what I like, I think. I whittled this list down from 35 different albums that I deemed my favorite and I still think ten albums is far too little to rank after this year’s offering of music. Whatever, here I go anyway…

10. Pulled Apart By Horses- The Haze // Mobina Galore- Feeling Disconnected

(Alright, I already have a tie, big deal.) Pulled Apart by Horses is a heavy garage-y band that brings so much more than your standard Ty Segall or whatever the flavor-of-the-week garage bands are in nowadays. The Haze is a perfect bar brawl soundtrack that reminds me of those early revival bands like The Libertines and the Fratellis, albeit with more fuzz. That’s what makes this record so good; there are tons of catchy melodies, great musicianship, and a liberal use of fuzzy guitar. It’s a simple formula that makes this album so much fun. 

[Recommended track: “Hotel Motivation”] 

Also tied with this record is Winnipeg’s Mobina Galore, who put out Feeling Disconnected, the duo’s debut album. I couldn’t believe these girls were a two-piece when I first listened. The songwriting is incredible and is perfect fare for any punk, but also has a hardcore vibe. These girls blew up too after this album, and deservedly so; touring with the likes of Against Me! and Propaghandi- both bands that are clear influences on Mobina Galore. 

[Recommended track: “Vancouver”] 

9. Zeal & Ardor- Devil is Fine

I’m going to quickly preface this by saying that I could have sworn this album came out in 2016 but Spotify says 2017 so screw it. Anyway, this album is the only good thing to ever come out of 4chan. Manuel Gagneux  is a Swiss-American musician who came to New York after fleeing his Swiss Army duties and decided to ask the cesspool of 4chan what kind of album to make. They responded to his request by saying black metal and the blues, although not in those words because it’s 4chan. Gagneux’s debut as Zeal & Ardor takes black metal’s typically buzz saw guitar and pairs it with his own rendition of Satan-worshipping delta blues chants. It’s seriously the most original metal offering that I can think of, becoming almost hypnotic during the call and response verses channeling old slave songs of the mid 1800s and then ripping your stupid head clean off when the screaming and instrumentation kick in, and then become almost danceable when the two are blended. I don’t know, I get too excited talking about this record, and there’s so much to dissect within it. While sticking to blues-inflected black metal, there is also lounge and EDM styled songs which break up the record wonderfully. It’s all so cool, dudes. [Recommended track: “Come On Down” ]

8. The Dopamines- Tales of Interest

I am a sucker for self-deprecating punk rock and Cincinnati’s The Dopamines have always done it the best since their debut in 2008. Nine years later they are still screaming about their jobs and being broke; typical punk rock themes. But they have great harmony and melody within every seemingly-three-chord song that really separates them from every other band within their genre. Tales of Interest is full of songs that are believable; what I mean is that there is so much feeling in every note, chord, and lyric that it never ever gets whiny. Couple that with the Dopamines ability to have awesome songwriting that can rip on one chord over and over without ever getting tiresome and you have a perfect Midwest punk record. The dudes also incorporate some super heavy metal riffing on a few of the tracks which makes this album the best for getting too drunk and yelling at the top of your lungs until your neighbors call the cops. Stupid neighbors, they’ll never understand. [Recommended tracks: “Ire” and “Kaltes Ende”] https://radgirlfriendrecords.bandcamp.com/track/ire-2

7. Woe- Hope Attrition 

I had the hardest time trying to decide to put Power Trip’s incredible Nightmare Logic or Bell Witch’s Mirror Reaper in this spot because both of those albums were very important this year, not just in metal, but in the mainstream as well. Hell, Pitchfork loved both. Well, the mainstream’s opinions are crap and Woe had the best metal record, and nobody was really talking about it. Hope Attrition came to my attention only a few weeks ago but I think I have listened to it once or twice a day since then. Black metal seems to be pretty repetitive stylistically recently (shoooooeeeeegggaaazzzeeee), but Woe brings an album that is equal parts epic and brutal. Sure, there are blast beats and guttural vocals, but Hope Attrition also throws in some high pitched screams, clean vocals, and interesting song structure. The guitars fucking wail too, and feature some of the coolest sounding solos I have heard in a long time. This album differs from a lot of black metal lyrically too, singing about real life evils of white supremacy and our nation’s ineptitude. It’s refreshing (for me at least) to have metal be topical, and to lean more leftist. None of it matters anyway because you think Mirror Reaper should have been on here. Shove it. [Recommended track: “No Blood Has Honor”] 

6. Rozwell Kid- Precious Art

One of the lines that begins this album states, “I’m down to my underwear because I through it all away in a Wendy’s trash can” and if you don’t think that is the best damn line ever than you are a moron. Rozwell Kid continues in the tradition of making guitar rock awesome again, essentially making a record that Weezer should be doing, but would get shit on for because it’d still be too weird for them. Precious Art’s themes are personal, but filtered through wit and loud dueling guitars. Songs thematically range from losing it, to romantic hangs watching UHF, to a song about wanting to be something else- specifically a dog. Everything Rozwell Kid does is a lot nerdy, a lot sarcastic, or a lot goofy, to veil deeply emotional writing but they never fail to keep the guitars loud as hell. [Recommended track: “Wendy’s Trash Can”] 

5. The Eradicator- The Eradicator

The first time I ever saw the Eradicator live was when he opened for Direct Hit! at the Double Door for the Wasted Mind release show. I had seen the sketch before (the Kids in the Hall sketch) and was incredibly excited to hear how one guy was going to base an entire set of songs off of one or two 5 minute sketches from an old TV show. The sketch is about a masked squash player trying to work up the ranks of his local D-squash league. He eats, breathes, and sleeps Squash, and the Eradicator embodies everything that this character was. I found out soon that not only are the songs hilarious, but they also shred. The Eradicator can get everyone in the crowd, even if it’s their first time hearing him, to sing along to songs about his quest to climb the D-squash ladder. The songwriting features a mix of straight forward punk rock to hardcore bashing but always stay to true to reminding the listener that football sucks, tennis sucks, baseball’s cool, curling rules, but they’re not the sports for him. [Recommended track: “I’m a Squash Man”] 

4. Metz- Strange Peace

What would any list of best albums be if it didn’t include Canada’s finest? A list not worth publishing that’s for sure. I was so worried that Metz would fall into a hole of making a softer sounding indie rock album, similar to Cloud Nothings new record, but am I glad that I was wrong. Also, of course they wouldn’t do that; they’re one of the loudest and most raucous bands around. Strange Peace is filled with wall to wall bangers, some coming in under a minute and some almost pushing the six minute mark. This record is sort of similar to their other albums, and that is what makes it great. Metz doesn’t need to change up their sound too much to keep any listener happy; they stick with the incredible drumming, thundering bass, noisy guitar work, and catchy yet screaming vocals. 

[Recommended track: “Mr. Plague”] 

3. IDLES- Brutalism

I got turned on to IDLES from one of my students, actually. Upon first listen, I was like, “what is this?” It was so out there from my normal tastes that I couldn’t stop listening. IDLES fills this album with simplistic musicality, akin to Plague Vendor or Protomartyr, but it’s in the vocals and song writing that really caught me. The songs on Brutalism are a collection of working class angst and sarcastic commentary on pop culture all almost spoken, rather than sung. That does not take away from the catchiness of it, though. All the songs clearly come from the heart and are brutally honest, anthems for those who are dissatisfied and bored as hell. I’d pair this record with whiskey and percosets at 8am after being laid off from your shitty job. [Recommended track: “Mother”] 

2. Japandroids- Near To The Wild Heart of Life

Japandroids has been one my favorite bands for a long time. I absolutely love how incredibly huge their sound is for being a two-piece, although with a butt load of amps. Japandroids had been relatively silent since their last album, Celebration Rock, which came out in 2012 to great reception. Everyone was fairly skeptical if they could repeat the anthems and sing-alongs that that album brought, but they totally blew everyone out of the water. This album may seem just like a regular rock album to some, but the songs are just so perfect to blast whether you’re having a bad day, a great day, alone, with friends, drinking, hungover, whatever. I can’t help but get chills when this album comes on; the dynamics are amazing and make you feel alive. If there was any single record that 2017 needed to feel better about itself, it’s Near To The Wild Heart of Life. [Recommended track: “In a Body Like a Grave”] 

1. ’68- Two Parts Viper

Josh Scogin is the best vocalist in hardcore; hands down. When his last band, hardcore heroes The Chariot, broke up, I was so disappointed that we wouldn’t have any new music from him in the future. Then ’68 dropped two tracks in 2014, followed by one of the most awesome albums ever, In Humor and Sadness. ’68 keeps with their untouchable blend of hardcore and rock and roll on Two Parts Viper, a sort of combination of The Chariots spastic riffs and songwriting, and White Stripes-styled two-piece heavy blues. Scogin’s lyrics really shine through on this album as well, coming off as spoken word at parts before the crushing guitar and drums bash in. Where there’s feedback on this album, there is Scogin’s poetry; where there is screaming, there is singing. This is one of the most dynamic records to come out in a long time, going back and forth from heavy rock-oriented riffs and grooves to chanting and Josh’s inimitable screaming, even throwing in the oddball sample in the middle of a song. There is nothing that comes close to ’68 in terms of style and I don’t think there ever will be. 10 out 10 snakes. 

[Recommended track: “Whether Terrified or Unafraid”]